#this was going to be up yesterday but I took a detour to draw another purple guy one hundred times instead

[housesalad]

molly molly molly!

#critical role #critical role fanart #mollymauk tealeaf #I adore him but I’m not drawing his coat. bless #this was genuinely such a joy to draw you don’t understand #I know his hair is not this long but.. what if it was #this was going to be up yesterday but I took a detour to draw another purple guy one hundred times instead #mwah #my art #cr2 #mighty nein #digital art #artists on tumblr

[jimlingss]

Until Yesterday

➜ Words: 10.4k

➜ Genres: 75% Fluff, 22% Angst, 3% Smut

➜ Summary: You and Taehyung are hopeless as you are hopeless romantics. But five months after tying the knot and saying "I do", you're hospitalized after a car accident with him. But upon waking up, the doctors tell you that you don't have a husband.

➜ Notes: Inspired by the movie The Vow (2012) and a bit of The Notebook (2004). This is purely an indulgent fic for all my hopeless romantics out there, so it’s a bit different from my usual!

cr.

Marriage was nothing like they told you.   It’s true that not much has changed from when you were dating or engaged, that merely the title of your relationship has slightly altered, but you have no regrets doing it at all. They always told you to wait until the honeymoon phase was over — that you'll find yourself tired and driven crazy by him. They told you to wait a few years down the line when you’re not having sex anymore and you’ll be so sick of each other, it’ll be like living with an awful roommate-child than being a couple in love. You’ll be bored when something becomes a normal routine, they said.   But it isn’t like that at all.   If anything, you’re more in love with Taehyung than ever.    “We should put the couch right here.”   “Well, we need to buy a couch first, Tae.”   “Didn’t you like the leather one we saw today?”   “I mean...I didn’t love it and it’s a bit pricey, don’t you think?”   “It’s fine. Leave it to me and the bank account!” The blonde grins and pats his own chest and it only garners your scoff. “I’ll take care of you. It’s the least I can do.”   “I make the same as you, idiot.”   It took years of hard work and dedication for the two of you to get to where you are, to have landed your dream jobs and built your dream house together. But of all the sweat and tears, you wouldn’t trade the outcome for anything else.    The house was newly built in a developing neighbourhood, the scent of cut wood and paint still lingering in each room. The white picket fence surrounds the seashell home with the dark brown roof, glass windows large and bringing light into the open concept structure along with the skylights. It has the cherry wood door reminiscent to that of your old dollhouse and a swing out back tied to the tree that Taehyung wanted. It was all the two of you could’ve ever dreamed of and you’re eager to move in, to bring in your furniture and allow this home to grow with you.   “Why is the master bedroom larger than I remembered?”   Taehyung’s laugh echoes down the hall and you hear footsteps becoming louder against the wooden floorboards. “Maybe the construction team came in during the middle of the night and expanded the room for us for free.”   “Yeah maybe,” you playfully quip back at him. “Maybe they’ll consider expanding our backyard too, so we can put that marble fountain in. It might cost more than this house, but you said I could trust in you and the bank account, right?”   Taehyung peels you off of him when you glue yourself to his side and giggle. Batting your lashes at him has little effect. “Fountain is still a no-go, sweetheart.”   You grin at him and waltz to the adjacent room, peeking your head into the modest space. “We still need to decide what to do with this spare room, Taehyung. If we want to turn it into another bedroom for when your mom visits or maybe an office.”   Suddenly, arms wrap around your waist and you ease as your husband props his chin on your shoulder. It’s one of his many habits of his that you love. “How about we save it for a nursery?”   The corner of your mouth quirks and you turn your head. “Are you sure?”   “As sure if you are.”    You spin around in his arms to plant a kiss against his mouth — one where Taehyung steals the opportunity and deepens it, catching you off guard. He pulls you in by your waist when you threaten to pull apart and he smiles at the whimper that comes out of you.   When the pair of you finally part, you’re unable to resist the smile that spreads into your cheeks and your arms loop around his neck. “Kim Taehyung, aren’t you blessed? There’s no one I’d rather have a baby with than you.”   His mouth forms into a rectangular grin. “You shouldn’t tempt me when we’re going to be late for our reservations already.”   “Late?” Your lips fall and you check your watch before your eyes grow wide.    Taehyung laughs and strolls behind you as you rush out, grabbing your coat and screaming at him to get the car started.   It’s another one of those date nights. One where intimate conversations are shared over a candlelight dinner. Until Taehyung accidentally catches the tablecloth on fire and the candlelight is removed by an exasperated waiter and the intimacy in your discussion ends up with him doing something dumb and water nearly spewing out of your nose from laughing, and the other patrons are glaring at the ruined atmosphere.   Still, with a generous tip paid, you leave full and happy.   “Anything you want to watch tonight?” you ask as he’s driving. It’s peaceful with the roads emptier at this time of night and the radio playing some generic pop song in the back. You count the lamp posts that pass by.   “Hmm...how about we do something else tonight.”   Your head turns. “Like what?”   Taehyung steals a glance at you and smirks. “I was thinking that we would drive back to the new house and break in that mattress we just got. Maybe get that kid you were talking about.”   You scoff, looking straight out the windshield as you feel your face heat. Even after so many years with him, he still knew what to say to affect you. “It’s not that easy, you know, and that mattress is still wrapped in the living room.”   “It’s fine. Better start now than later. And it’s our house, we can taint it however we want to.”   It doesn’t take much for you to agree — and you do so in the midst of laughter.   You shamelessly stare at Taehyung’s profile, the strands of his blonde hair that desperately needs a trim, his long lashes that you’ve always been envious of, the slope of his nose and his thin lips that always knows how to kiss you right. Taehyung’s thick brow cocks when he notices your blatant staring, but you don’t care. You’re just filled with joy and at a loss for words at how he’s with you.   He’s yours.   The two of you are too wrapped up in one another to pay mind to the car behind you. To the piercing beam lights. The wheels that screech against the asphalt. The sheer speed of the vehicle and recklessness of the intoxicated driver.   So when the rear of the car is slammed into and you both lurch forward into the intersection of the road, it’s a shock.    //   The white fluorescent burns your eyes.    It’s hard to see and you can’t feel your body. Not even your fingers that begin to twitch. You’re disoriented and delirious, not sure what day it is, how long you’ve been out, where exactly you are. It’s all muddled in your mind. All you can discern is a constant rhythm of beeping beside you and the odour of disinfect filling your senses. You’re scared — but you’re overwhelmed with the thought of Taehyung.    Taehyung.   You jolt in your spot and the rhythm of the machine quickens until it’s like an alarm, sounding aloud and making you panic even more. But then there’s a rush of people entering the room, white coats and scrubs checking the machines and lines hooked up from you.   “Ms. Y/N, I am doctor Jeon.” There’s a man looking down at you and you blink blearily at him. “You’ve been in a coma for three days now. Is there anyone we can call for you?”   “M-My husband,” you cry out with a parched throat.   The doctor looks to the nurse but she frowns and shakes her head. “The patient doesn’t have a husband.”   You don’t have a husband?   At once, sobs wrack through your entire body and you thrash despite the aches in your bones and your ankle wrapped in bandages. The doctor and nurse are alarmed and you choke out the words— “I-Is he okay? Is he dead?”   “Ma’am,” the doctor calmly says, “you were the only one injured on the scene.”   Before you can utter a word, a man comes from the doorway. His hair is dark, matching the hue lined underneath his exhausted eyes. His features are soft and evidently tired like he hasn’t slept in the past few days. You don’t know who he is but he stares right at you — and then a relieved smile draws upon his features, one that is too comfortable and familiar.   “Y/N?” His voice is deeper than expected and he closes the distance. The nurse is visibly confused, but he quickly introduces, “I’m her partner, Min Yoongi.”   You recoil back before he can touch you, even when the hurt comes across his expression.    “I-I’m sorry.” You don’t know who he is. “I think you have the wrong person.”

It’s hard to cope — your entire universe has been flipped upside down and you don’t know what to think. Suddenly by opening your eyes, your entire life has been swept from underneath your feet. Everything that you loved and cared about is gone. And you’re left alone to deal with it.   “I-I remember being with my husband. We were driving back from dinner and planning to take a detour to the new house, but then a car rear-ended us and we were brought out into the intersection,” you recall.   But the doctor’s brows furrow. “I see. Well, I can tell you that you weren’t in a car accident, Ms. Y/N. You were injured after falling down the flight of stairs at the subway station. You’ve been in a coma for three days.”   It doesn’t make any sense and you squeeze your temples. But it hurts. Everything feels like a dream, like you’re floating and not truly grounded in reality. Your surroundings are hazy and you wonder if this is just a hallucination — a very frightening one, a world where Taehyung doesn’t exist.   “What year was the car accident?” the doctor asks suddenly and you exhale, trying to remember the date.    “It was late January of 2016.”   “Ms. Y/N, it’s 2020 right now.”   It’s a shock through your system. At first, you sputter, choking on your own spit. The doctor is kind enough to give you a moment but when you press your hand to your chest, you wince at the bruises around your wrist. Then you open your mouth and close it, finding yourself rendered absolutely speechless. Your brain is melting into itself and you have an urge to get up and scream.   “What?”   “It looks like you have a four year memory gap,” Doctor Jeon says as if he’s prescribing you with cold medication and if you weren’t bedridden, you might just throttle him to the floor. “It’s okay, these things happen with your sort of injury. It should be fine and only temporary. You can get your memory jogging again after looking at mementos, pictures, or talking to the right people.”   “Anyways, we’ll keep you here for a few more days just to monitor that head injury, but it looks like your ankle is healing nicely. There’s no cause for concern, really.”   The doctor ends up leaving and you repress the urge to cry again.   You don’t know where Taehyung is and you miss him.   //   Your so-called partner appears days later to help with your hospital discharge and pack up your belongings. You learn his name is Min Yoongi and that he’s two years older than you are. He works as a car mechanic in a shop and you’ve apparently been with him for a whole year.    Yet, you can’t help but stay guarded, watching him from the corner with your arms crossed while you try to decipher his impassive expression. The man is quiet, but not in an angry or frightening way. He never asks you questions, makes demands out of you or once appears exasperated with your distant behaviour. He seems gentle somehow.    You wonder what your relationship with him was like.   “T-Thank you,” you murmur as he packs the slippers he had brought for you into the duffle bag.   Min Yoongi turns his head and the corner of his mouth pulls into an oddly warm smile. His voice is husky when he says, “You don’t need to thank me. I’m just happy to see you walking around again.”   You’re taken aback.   You aren’t used to receiving this kind of love and affection from someone other than Taehyung and from a stranger no less. It makes you unsettled. Conflicted.   The car ride is smooth. Yoongi helps you into your seat and buckles you in without making you speak much of a word. You’re not sure where you’re going, but you spend your time looking out at the window and taking in what you’ve missed for four years, or rather what your mind no longer recalls.    Luckily, it seems like the world hasn’t changed too much.   The streets are familiar, lined with lamp posts and bike racks. There are different billboards and some buildings you don’t recognize, but it looks like many things have stayed the same. The street names, avenues and boulevards, the people jogging and walking their dogs — it hasn’t changed.   “Hey, Tae—”    Except for the person driving beside you.    You turn your head and blood drained from your face, realizing that it’s not your husband you’re sitting beside. “N-Never mind.”   There’s a moment of quiet.   Then Yoongi’s lips part. “It’s okay.” He glances at you and your eyes meet. “It’s okay,” he repeats with a small smile that makes you even more burdened.   The apartment is modest yet cozy. A living room with cushions out of place and souvenirs on the shelves next to the television. The kitchen is to the left, cups in the sink and refrigerator haphazardly filled with take out boxes. It’s lived in, full of memories that you don’t have. But above all, you notice there’s only one bedroom and there are male belongings assorted with yours.    Shaving cream. Gel. Cologne.    “You live here?” you ask Yoongi, coming to the living room where he was giving you a chance to look around for yourself, perhaps hoping that you would remember something.   “We live together,” he corrects with a tiny smile. “But it’s okay. I’m planning on staying at a friend’s place, so you don’t have to worry about me being here if that makes you uncomfortable.”   “You…” Your mouth opens before closing, startled at how considerate he is. “You don’t have to. I mean, this place is yours too. It seems unfair if I kick you out. You should...stay.” Yoongi smiles and you shy away from his attention. “I...might not be comfortable sharing a bed with you though…”   “Okay.” He nods. “I can take the couch.”   That night, you lay awake in the foreign bed, unable to sleep and staring at the ceiling. It feels like you’ve been asleep for four years anyways, although it’s technically only been three days.    Your brain is swimming in confusion. You’re not sure what to think. One moment you were with Taehyung and the next, you don’t have him beside you anymore and you’re with someone else.   Taehyung….   You reach over to the nightstand and switch on the lamp. A dim yellow light softly fills the room and you begin to truly investigate your surroundings. On a pinboard near the door are pictures of you and Yoongi, selfies taken where you’re both smiling with one another, one of you at a carnival and another at an aquarium. The vanity drawer holds jewelry that you don’t recognize, perhaps ones that Yoongi had bought for you. Your phone contains grocery lists and miscellaneous notes that make no sense. There’s nothing on your social media, no connection, nothing once you search his name up. All you discover is work-related things in your calendar, more pictures of you and Yoongi and affectionate texts between the two of you.    There’s no trace of Taehyung whatsoever.   But when you dig into the closet and find a box at the top shelf hidden away, your answer is found. It’s inside a box of paperwork — school awards, certificates of achievements, evidence of your first paycheck, your birth certificate, social security papers, and divorce papers.   You and Taehyung got divorced in April 2018.    Two years and eight months after getting married. And it’s been a year and ten months since.   The paper crumples underneath your hands and you gather your knees together on the floor as quiet sobs break through you once again. You don’t know what happened. Where it all went wrong.   //   When morning comes, you hope the swelling and redness of your eyes from crying so much isn’t noticeable. If it is, Yoongi doesn’t say anything and only regards you with a gentle smile.    “I was going to stay home today, but I thought it might be overwhelming for you,” he says before you can protest otherwise, “so I’ll be at work. Take it easy, okay? You can call me anytime you want for anything. My number is in your phone.”   You nod. “Thank you, Yoongi.”   His smile is sweet. “I already told you, it’s not a problem.”   But half an hour after Yoongi leaves, you prepare for your own departure. Hobbling with your weight on one foot and off the one with your injured ankle, you grab a coat and the car keys laying on the counter. It takes a moment to figure out which one is your vehicle in the lot but you find it after pressing the panic button. It looks brand new — apparently recently repaired and the reason why you had to take the subway and how you got your head injury in the first place.   It might be wrong to leave without giving a warning to Yoongi, especially when he’s so worried about you, but you can’t stay idle at the apartment. You can’t sit still. You need answers.   You drive to the house — turning down the familiar streets and roads before coming into the neighbourhood that feels like you had been in just a week ago when it’s probably been years.   But you don’t recognize it anymore. It's more developed than you last remembered. What once were empty lots have other homes built. All the sidewalks are paved, there’s an elementary school down the avenue, a new playground that shines, neighbours that have moved in.   What hasn’t changed is the house itself.    There’s still the white picket fence that surrounds the seashell white home, a shade you had personally picked yourself when building it. The roof is a dark brown and the front door cherry wood. The glass windows are large with baby blue curtains and you wonder if there’s still the swing in the backyard….   You get out of the car, feeling your emotions swell up to your throat and your eyes becoming watery as you gave upon the house. This was the place you had built with Taehyung. The place you both had planned to live in for years. The place you wanted to raise your kids, grow old and retire in.    It was perfect. The combination of your dreams.   Where did it all go wrong?   You close the distance, limping up the path to the door and knocking on it. After a moment, you ring the doorbell properly. But even then, there are no answers and you notice that the Kim nameplate under the mailbox is gone.   Of course. It’s been over four years after all.   You cross the street back to your car again, but not before catching sight of a woman bringing groceries up her driveway and towards her own house.    “Um, excuse me.”   She turns at your voice, brows lifted.   “Do you happen to know who lives there?” You point to what was once your home.   But unfortunately, she shakes her head. “Sorry, I don’t. I know that house has been sold a few times and the owners have recently changed again.”   “Oh. Thank you.”   It’s hard to leave the house behind you, but you keep your foot on the gas pedal and drive, never glancing out the rear-view mirror in fear of bursting into tears again.   You still have more questions than answers, so your next destination becomes downtown where Taehyung’s engineering firm is. The two of you had met in school, back when you were awkward and chasing after your ambitions of being a chemical engineer like your aunt while for him, he wanted to take his childhood lego dreams to the max and become a civil engineer.   Your neck hurts to look at the top of the skyscraper, the many windows reflecting the bright sunlight into your eyes and blinding your vision. If there was any place where you could find Taehyung, it would be here.    It’s his dream job. What he had wanted for so long and legitimately cried when he found out he got a position at. You remember that day, how proud you felt of him for achieving such a goal.   But when you approach the receptionist at the lobby’s desk, her response only fires the confusion further.   “Sorry. We don’t have a Kim Taehyung working here. Are you sure you’re not mistaken?”   You miss him. And you wonder at what point, he wasn’t a part of your life anymore.   //   In an attempt to find Taehyung, you contact your friends and work your way down your list of contacts on your phone. They’re happy to hear from you, some even knowing about your accident and asking if you’re alright.    But when you ask about Taehyung, they tell you that they haven’t spoken to him since the divorce. That they’ve lost contact. That the months leading up to it, the two of you were distant from them and they’re unsure of the reasons for what had happened. It was frankly unexpected.   “You always told me it wasn’t any of my business, dear,” your mother says over the phone. “You actually got quite upset when I asked, so after a while I didn’t anymore. Do you want to talk to your dad? He’s watching the news right now.”   “No.” You press your temples, holding in your sigh. “It’s fine.”   Frustration overwhelms you.    No matter where you turn, you can’t seem to get the reasons for yourself.   You can’t find him.   “Is the take out okay?”   At once, you’re snapped out of your thoughts and you lift your head to meet kind, cat-like eyes staring at you.    “It’s good,” you try to smile and nod.   He seems to sense how disconnected you are. “I’ll learn how to cook. I know you like carbonara, so maybe I can find a recipe this weekend and try to make it, so we don’t have to eat out all the time.”   You stare at the man across from you.   How tired he seems, his dark hair shagging in front of his forehead, his downcast head facing his food as his fork scrapes against the bottom container, never quite taking a full bite. Yet whenever your eyes meet, his plump lips always tugs into a small smile and his eyes crinkle.   “I’m sorry.”   Yoongi’s brows lift at the sudden apology. “What for?”   “For not remembering you.” Even if Min Yoongi is a stranger, you can feel how intimate the pair of you used to be by the photographs you’ve seen, by the way he still regards you. You feel guilty for not being able to return his affections.   “It’s fine. It’ll come back with time, right? Don’t stress out about it too much. It won’t do you any good.”   “Yoongi.” You have his attention by the way you say his name like he hasn’t heard it uttered from your lips in quite a while. “I went searching for my...ex-husband today.”   It’s foreign to call Taehyung that. It’s unsettling and makes you uncomfortable.   But your eyes never divert from Yoongi’s. “I need answers.”   “I know,” he murmurs in a low voice, still playing with his food. As intimidating as he might appear on the surface, you’re quickly learning how considerate and soft-spoken he really is. “And I want you too. I don’t want you to have any regrets. I want you to know you’ve made the right choice by being with me.”   Your heart squeezes at his thoughtful nature and you sigh lightly before stuffing your mouth with some of the noodles, trying to alleviate the tension. “You’re a good man, Yoongi.”   He chuckles, gummy smile emerging for the first time that you can recall. “Maybe that’s why you chose me in the first place.”   //   The avenue is nostalgic, a street that you and Taehyung spent many dates at with its cheap street food and cute stores. And when you were both working, it was the halfway point between your workplaces and where you’d meet to have lunch on those special occasions. A few things have altered from when you remembered them, the stationery shop closed and that ice-cream parlor changed into a pancake café instead. But for the most part, it remains the same.   You aren’t sure what you’re doing here.    Of all your ways and methods in searching for Taehyung, even you know that it’s unlikely you’ll find him on a Tuesday morning at such an obscure location. But it’s where you’re drawn too, where your body told you to go and your mind followed.   Otherwise, you’re not sure what to do anymore or how you should contact him. You wonder if it’s too drastic to drive hours away to visit his mom on the off chance that she’s still living in the same place after four years. If she moved, the journey would be for nothing. But even then, if you somehow found him and reached out, would he even be willing to talk to you?   A sigh escapes your parted lips. You tilt your head up to the sky, wondering where on earth he is. And in your reverie, you fail to notice the strapping brunette humming to the music he’s listening to. Not until your shoulder collides with his as he’s walking the opposite way.    But instead of an apology spilling from your mouth, you’re interrupted by a call of your name—   “Y/N?”   It's shock that has taken hold of his expression. His hand rips out his earphones and the loud music becomes silenced from his world. With the way he looks at you, it would be like he’s seen a ghost. A stranger from his past.    In your mind, it’s only been a week since you’ve seen him. And you’ve been missing him so much.   On sheer instinct, you wrap your hand around his wrist, afraid to let go. “Taehyung.”   //   It’s awkward, the stiff air almost suffocating your lungs. You’re sure that the first date wasn’t even as bad as this. But you don’t mind whatsoever, even if he’s shifting uncomfortably at the intent way you stare and how it makes him break out into a sweat. Even if Taehyung hates you now, as long as you can see him like this, it’s enough to bear.   Taehyung clears his throat, diverting his vision elsewhere. “So….you look like you’ve been well.”   “Not really,” you murmur.   Taehyung is still a man of intense habit. His drink order hasn’t changed, a cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings. At the same exact coffee shop since you were dating. And he’s taken the same table in the corner of the shop too, the spot of your many study dates.    It’s these habits that have led you back to him.   “I heard you weren’t working at the engineering firm anymore,” you say after another tense pause.   Taehyung’s brows curiously raise. “I haven’t been working there in years. You knew about it.”   “Did I?”   He’s wary that you can’t recall. “Yeah….”   “What are you doing now?”   “I’m in animation.”   Your eyes widen, surprised. “I never knew you could animate— well, I knew you could draw, but you never even watched much animation.”   Taehyung shrugs. “It’s a good fit. I didn’t know I’d like it either until I tried.”   Your expression softens, a tender smile pulling into your cheeks. Taehyung’s gotten older but in a refined way. His hair is back to its natural colour, a few wrinkles set into his skin but his features are sharper and less rounded and boyish. He seems less mischievous and irresponsible too, a little more mature and quiet. Or maybe he’s reserved because you’re his ex-wife.    The thought makes you nauseous.   He sips his drink. “So...what have you been doing?”    “Not great. I recently got into an accident, Taehyung.” That seems to grab his attention and his eyes become rounded while you brace yourself. “Apparently I fell down a flight of stairs at the subway station and I was in a coma for three days.”   “Oh shit. That...must’ve sucked. I...I’m sorry to hear that.”    “I’m fine now.” You pause, clear your throat. “But the last thing I remember is us, Taehyung. We were planning to spend the night at the new house and we got hit by that car…”   “I remember.” He nods slowly and murmurs, “But the accident wasn’t that bad, Y/N. We were only bumped.”   “I don’t remember that,” you tell, earnest eyes connected with his that makes him believe you. Even after all this time apart, Taehyung can still tell when you’re lying and telling the truth.    Your voice raises in pitch, in frustration and exasperation. “And...and I’m trying to understand how this happened. I’m trying to understand how we…..how we ended up divorced.”   Taehyung’s brows furrow and he fiddles with the paper cup. “What’s there to tell? We fell out of love.”   “That doesn’t make any sense!” Your shrill voice garners the attention of other patrons, but you don’t pay mind to them. “We got married and were planning to have kids and we just built a house in a new neighbourhood—”   “We lost that house.”   Taehyung doesn’t look at you. His downcast head allows his eyes to stay on the floor. He looks small — shoulders slugging and frame slumped.   “I lost my job and then we lost the house. It went downhill from there and one day, you couldn’t do it anymore and packed your bags. You were the one who divorced me, Y/N.”   You’re stunned, unable to get a single word out at the revelation he’s given you. An answer to your questions that you had never expected. That you didn’t want to hear.   Taehyung’s eyes are saddened and he never once meets your gaze. “You’ll remember sooner or later. I’m sorry this happened to you, Y/N. I really am. But it was still nice to see you.”   He gets up before you can protest, leaving as fast as he came into your life again.   //   Yoongi arrives home visibly tired, his hair in a disarray and his navy workwear stained with oil and grease. Still, he greets you with a warm, sleepy smile that you still aren’t used to.   “I saw my ex today,” you tell him during dinner, breaking the silence by deciding to be open and honest. It at least alleviates some of the guilt weighing on your chest. “I found him coincidentally.”   Yoongi’s eyes flicker up, peeking at you. “How did it go?”   “It didn’t help. I’m still confused.” You can’t understand why you would ever leave him, even if you lost the house and he lost his job. It didn’t make any sense. “Do you know anything about the divorce, Yoongi? Did I….ever tell you anything?”   “You told me that he was pathetic,” he informs but without any malice like he’s simply stating facts. “He was unemployed for two years and didn’t get off his ass to find a job. Hey, your words, not mine.”   The corner of your mouth curls even when you’re still stupefied.   “Are you alright, Y/N?”   An exhale leaves your lips. “I’m not sure.”   That night, you find another box in the closet while alone in the bedroom. There are pictures of you and Taehyung from when you were younger and just friends, small mementos like movie tickets and keychains won at arcades while you were dating, and photographs of the wedding day, the two of you with enormous smiles and swollen cheeks.   But they’re buried underneath your belongings with Yoongi.   //   His expression is one of repulsion, like he bit into a lemon or something bitter. But you don’t pay any attention to it.   “What are you doing here?” Taehyung is incredulous to see you in the morning, standing in the same café as if you own the place.   “I’ve been waiting since eight,” you complain and he repeats his question with increasing skepticism. You suppose it’s not everyday your ex-wife is waiting to run into you, so you don’t blame him for his apprehension. “I’m trying to understand how the two of us got divorced. I know this is probably really weird since for you, I’ve shown out of nowhere after two years.”   “You think?”   You ignore his playful quip. “But for me, my last memory is still going on that date night and getting into that car accident.”   Before Taehyung can utter a word, the barista is calling him as the next person in line. “Can I get—”   A cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings.   “A cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings,” he says without missing a beat and your mouth tugs into a smile. Lots of things may have changed in the time that you no longer remember, but the fact of how constant he is comforts you greatly.    You wait with Taehyung at the counter, feeling his eyes glancing at you every so often. When your eyes meet, he realizes he’s been caught staring.    “Once I remember again and make sense of the situation, I’ll leave you alone,” you say even if it hurts, but the last thing you want is to be burdensome to Taehyung. “I just want to understand and get over it and move on like you have.”   Taehyung sighs, never saying a word.   He picks up his drink and you follow along with him, quietly as to not disrupt the comfortable silence between the both of you.   He walks down the street and enters the modest grocery store, beelining to the deli to pick up a ham sub. But he notices your quirked brow. “What?”   “No.” You shake your head. “Just reminds me of uni. You used to eat those too. Same brand and everything.”   The man scoffs lightly, but he knows. You’ve pointed it out to him many times in the past that he has a tendency to stick to specific habits — the odd quirks that you once said you loved about him.    “Like what?” he had once asked when you mentioned it.   “Like you always put your beverages on your left side and you chug half a glass of water before going to bed and you always close the entire toilet when you’re done going to the bathroom and you have the same brand of cereal every morning and after you sneeze, you always scratch your nose every time,” you had said in the midst of giggles and then lifted yourself up to plant a kiss on his cheek. “Don’t worry. They’re cute and it’s part of why I love you.”   The two of you walk together down the street. The early morning air is crisp and chilly, slightly nipping at his nose. He grips his drink still steaming to warm his hand and Taehyung can’t help stealing a glance at you, wondering if you’re cold too.   “How’d you get started into animation?”   “Huh? Oh. Well, if you really want to know then after you packed your bags and dumped me, it was a pretty good wake up call.” Taehyung laughs as if he’s recalling a funny memory, but then his expression softens, touched with sorrow. “I decided to get myself picked back up and get a job. They liked my personality enough at the interview to give me a chance. At first I didn’t know what I was doing, but I learned and I like it a lot.”   He turns his head when your silence is prolonged.    But his eyes widen when he finds your tender smile. “I’m happy for you, Taehyung.”   And you really are — even in spite of him not technically being a part of your life anymore.   //   The next day, Taehyung is not any more impressed to see you there at the café.    You enthusiastically smile and wave at him. And when the barista calls the two of you in the line, you have no hesitation. “Can I get a cappuccino with extra whipped cream and chocolate shavings? And just an iced americano for me.”   Taehyung eyes you when you pay and stroll to the other counter to wait. “Don’t you have a job to go to?”   “I’m still technically in recovery and it’s not like I can work if my head’s a mess.”   Taehyung scoffs lightly. “What do you want to know this time?”   He can tell by the look in your eye that there are questions on the tip of your tongue. And when you take out a whole laundry list like it’s things you need to buy at a grocery store, a rectangular grin plasters on his face. Taehyung wouldn’t expect any less of you.    “Hey, I was thinking about it all night, alright? I was afraid I was going to forget so I wrote it down.”   He leans over to look at the list but you move away. “Don’t peek.”   “Okay, okay.” He laughs and gestures for you to start.   “First question. What did I say before I left?” You look at him, eyes meeting his. “What were my exact reasons for the divorce?”   He hums a low note, staring off into the distance. “I don’t remember well. You called me a motherfucker though,” Taehyung chuckles and becomes solemn. “Probably something along the lines that I’ve stopped trying and that you were leaving. There was a lot of crying and screaming. I…..don’t really like to think about it.”   There’s a pause and you clear your throat, paper in your hand crinkling and forgotten.   “Why didn’t you ever do anything to stop it?”   A sigh leaves his lips and he runs his hand through his hair. “I don’t know. Maybe because I’m an idiot. But it’s not like I could’ve forced you to stay with me.”   “I’m sure if you had said something, I would’ve stayed.”   Taehyung’s smile is meek and sad, not at all like how it usually is. You wonder just how much you hurt him, how much you hurt each other. “A lot can happen in two years, Y/N.”   A lot can happen in the two years they were apart too.   “Have you been seeing anyone?”   “No. I haven’t,” he says.    It’s a question that tumbled out of you, one not on the list.   //   The evening comes and you hear the front door open and shut. Immediately, you call out from the kitchen, “Hey!”   Yoongi emerges from the hall with another tired smile. “Hey.”   “I got takeout for us,” you say while heating said food up. “How was work? Busy again?”   “A little.” The man comes closer to see what you’ve bought but before he’s able to assess, he mindlessly leans in and plants a soft kiss against your cheek. You instantaneously freeze, the muscles in your body becoming rigid and tense, and Yoongi realizes. “I’m sorry. It’s a bad habit.”   He pulls away, disheartened and guilt wells up in your throat. “It’s okay.”   Yoongi nods and he shrugs off his coat, walking back towards the hall to hang it up, but you stop him before your conscience can berate you, before you hurt him further—   “I saw him again. This morning.”   He halts. He stands still as you watch his backside.   The both of you know who you’re referring to.   “How was it?” Yoongi inquires hesitantly as if he’s not sure if he even should.    “It was good,” you murmur. “I got a few more answers.”   His head turns, the black strands of his hair sweeping against his forehead. Yoongi’s gentle eyes are glossed over, his tone low and husky as he quietly asks, “Can’t you get answers without seeing him?”   “I…..I’m sorry, Yoongi.”   You divert your vision, but from the corner, you can see the way his mouth curls gingerly.   “It’s okay.”   But you know that it isn’t. It’s unfair to him to wait for your memories to return, for you to continuously see someone of your past as he waits for you to come to love him as you once did.   The man retreats into the darkness and you feel guilt overwhelm you.   //   When Taehyung wakes up, does his daily routine and heads to the café, he opens the door and expects to see you. Standing there, waiting for him as if you were the owner or a barista working full time.   “Are you sure you’re not healthy enough to go back to work?” He grins, brows lifted and almost impressed at how adamant you are.   “No.” You loll your head to the side. “I’m still feeling tired.”   Taehyung scoffs lightly, noting that you always show up earlier than he does. “Tired, huh?”   “You must be tired too. Your shirt is inside out.”   “What?” His line of sight follows to where you’re pointing and Taehyung looks down to see that his shirt is indeed inside out. He groans in embarrassment as you laugh.   “Did you not notice?”   He doesn’t answer, grabbing his drink from the counter once the barista calls his name and he books it out of the shop. But not without you following behind him and still giggling.   “Are you sulking?” You quickly catch up to him and quirk your head almost to his shoulder. “I’m just teasing, Tae. It’s not that noticeable.”   “You noticed it.”   “Well I’ve always noticed everything about you.”   He clicks his tongue in feigned annoyance and stops, making you halt on your heels. “Don’t flirt with me, woman. Didn’t you say you were seeing someone?”   You scoff, continuing to walk and this time, he’s the one who follows after you. “Who says I’m flirting with you? I think you’re terribly mistaken and quite frankly, full of yourself.”   Taehyung grins. “It’s not my fault I was born this handsome and have so many people regularly flirting with me.”   “Uh-huh. You’re beginning to sound like Seokjin.”   “He’s not half as handsome as I am.”   You burst out laughing, knowing that your old friend would probably throw a fit if Taehyung openly fought him for the position of most handsome in your group of friends. “I beg to differ.”   “Then why didn’t you marry him back then?”   “Should’ve,” you sing-song much to Taehyung’s chagrin.   The pair of you stop in front of his building, the destination of every morning journey. You know this is where you’ll have to leave him off and see him again tomorrow, wait for just these ten minutes of conversations and banter. But unusually, Taehyung doesn’t bid you farewell right away. He doesn’t run away with his tail in between his legs, shooting you a playful glare over his shoulder.   Instead, he stops with you and smiles. Taehyung lingers on the sidewalk with you.   “Y/N…” He gazes at you.   Your eyes connect with his warm irises and something lodges in your throat, an emotion that only seems to come with him. “Hmm?”   There’s held silence—   “There’s a bug in your hair.”   “What?!”   His palm slaps your forehead before you can flail, not enough for it to hurt, but enough that you’re stunned. You lift your hand to rub the spot and at the same time, a rectangular grin spreads into his face. Taehyung laughs childishly. “Kidding.”   “Are you five years old?!” you shout but it only eggs him on more.   “Sorry, sorry.” He bats your hand away and his fingers come to rub the spot for you instead. “I’m pretty sure it was your face cream and not a bug.”   The proximity is closed. You can feel his breath against your face, count his thick lashes, draw constellations through the tiny freckles around his nose.   You swallow hard, feeling the heat rise into your cheeks and Taehyung catches it. For a moment, his eyes linger against your lips and yours follows down to the dip of his cupid’s bow to the corner of his mouth. There’s a thick tension between the two of you, a kind of intimacy not found between a pair of old friends on a normal morning. It’s a kind of longing that you recognize in Taehyung’s gaze as it’s similar to your own…   You lean in to close the distance completely. But then Taehyung abruptly pulls away.   His vision is diverted to the ground.   All traces of mischief are gone. His mouth has fallen into a straight line, brows knitted together as if he’s in physical pain. “What are we doing, Y/N?”   He doesn’t wait for a response. Taehyung turns and walks away while the knots in your chest constrict you. But you run after him. You take three strides before he can vanish from your life — like what you found when you woke up in that hospital bed. The thought of that returning is terrifying.   “Taehyung!”   “No!” He turns around to face you, shutting you down before the way you call his name can affect him. You’re taken aback by the hurt etched on his expression. “It took me two years to get over you and even now I’m still not over you,” he declares angrily and your eyes widen. “And then you come out of nowhere to make a mess out of my head, playing these games.”   Your brows furrow, upset at his accusations and you shout back at him, “What games?!”   “I know that the moment you remember again, the moment you get over your stupid fucking amnesia, you’re going to dump me!” Taehyung swallows hard. “You’re going to make me go through all of that again. It’s downright cruel, you dense woman!”   “Don’t call me dense!” Without conscious decision, tears begin to shed down your face and you shake your head. “You know that that isn’t my intention.”   “I know.” Taehyung sighs. “But it’s going to happen anyway.”   The pair of you look at one another and then the doors to the building open. A tall man with dimples comes out and is absolutely bewildered at the ruckus. He’s seemingly familiar with Taehyung, perhaps a colleague of his. “Is something wrong, dude?”   “It’s fine.”   “Who’s this?” the stranger asks curiously, smiling at you.   “She’s my ex-wife.”   The man is caught off guard, eyes becoming rounded. “I didn’t know you were married.”   “Yeah, well, I used to be.” Taehyung peeks at you in a silent farewell and you watch his backside leave.

When Taehyung wakes up, does his daily routine and heads to the café, he opens the door and then his breath catches in his throat. He doesn’t know why disappointment seems to overwhelm him when you’re not there and he wonders since when he expected you to be in the first place — standing there, waiting for him.   He stands in line by himself. Makes his order by himself. Picks up his lunch by himself.    Taehyung walks to work alone.   And every so often, he unconsciously glances to his side and then sighs when he catches himself. He’s not sure why he keeps anticipating you to be with him. Why he allows himself to feel frustrated when he remembers you’re not here.   You’ve become Taehyung’s habit.   And now you’re gone.

There’s a timid knock at the door.   A moment later, it cracks open. “Hey, dinner is ready….” Yoongi’s puzzled to find you standing on a stool, reaching to the top of your closet but he smiles, glad to see you lively again. “What are you doing? Do you need help?”   “It’s okay.” You grab the album you were reaching for and wipe off the layer of dust that covers it. “I just remembered I kept old albums up here. Jeez, it’s so dusty.”   Yoongi’s brow lifts. “You remember?”   You nod, smiling at him. “I do.”   The album is flipped open and you step off the stool to sit on the edge of your bed. Yoongi watches you for a moment and exhales softly. “Well, I’ll leave your food on the table.”   You thank him and he takes his leave, shutting the door.   You guess no matter how bad your relationship with Taehyung got, you never had the heart to throw away or burn the photographs. And you’re glad. The photographs of your wedding day are still in tip-top shape, images showing the pair of you glowing in the sunset with his arms wrapped around you. You remember that wedding dress and that suit of his that had to be tailored twice. You remember being late to the ceremony and having to run with Taehyung who snuck out to see you beforehand even though he wasn’t supposed to...…   There are also photographs of your honeymoon, a vacation to the Caribbean, and another trip of Europe that you went on during your university days. But above all, there are photos of the pair of you in front of the newly built house. Proud and ecstatic. The seashell white home with the dark brown roof and large windows and skylights standing tall behind you two. Ready to house your future.   Some things change but these memories won’t.   //   The sprinklers spritzes across the freshly mowed lawn, a sputtering hiss that leaves a mist in the air. You step up the stone path to the cherry wood door, noticing the golden nameplate under the mailbox, but you don’t dwell. In your haze, your closed fist comes to steadily knock at the door.   It swings open.   Inside, you find someone with warm eyes, brunette hair and a boxy smile. He encapsulates the sunlight itself, so bright that it’s hard to discern who exactly it is. But you feel like you know. Like you had known before you even knocked and the door opened.   The man calls your name.   And you’re shaken awake from the beautiful dream. And you wake to an empty bedside, tears welling up in your eyes. It’s the middle of the night, darkness surrounding you and weighing heavily against your body. But you fight against it and rip the covers off of your body, grabbing a cardigan off your chair and rushing down the hall.   Yoongi is stirred from the noise and gets up from the couch.    “Where are you going?” he asks in a husky voice, running a hand through his hair that’s sticking in all directions. But the sleepiness leaves the man as he watches you shake your head, struggling to put on your shoes with tears in your eyes.   “I-I need to go, Yoongi.”   But for the first time, he reaches out.    Yoongi’s hand clasps around your wrist to stop you, having an inkling that you might never return. “I won’t let you.” His foot is finally placed down, but the decision has long been made.   “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”   “Don’t say that,” he desperately pleads.   “But I am. It’s unfair to you. That I’ve treated you this badly while all you’ve ever been is patient and considerate and understanding. But I don’t want you to wait for me anymore.”   “You’re not going back to your asshole of an ex-husband. He was horrible to you.”   “Yoongi, what do you expect me to do?” It’s a genuine question that you ask. You’re at a loss and the words choke out of you, but you had these feelings the moment you had awoken in that hospital bed. “I love him.”   The pause draws on and you lower your gaze.   “It’s not fair for you to wait for me to love you instead. I’m in love with Taehyung.”   Yet in spite of your words, Yoongi still pulls you into him. He wraps his arms around you and squeezes you tight as if you might vanish between his fingertips. You come to realize that you never gave Yoongi a chance to express his love to you — you never kissed him or held him despite how long he waited.   You feel him tremble against you. The man who you had woken to presses his face to your shoulder, his quiet tears staining your thin clothing. You return his hug, arms lifted around his torso and grasping him close. You remember who he is. You know well.   He’s Min Yoongi, the man who you loved.   After a moment, he releases you. “Go.”   You nod. “I’ll always be thankful to you, Yoongi. More than you’ll realize.”   //   The car door slams shut.   You cross the street, approaching the house that still stands tall on the quiet suburban street illuminated by lamp posts. You’re not sure what you’re doing here at this time of night and you know you’ll just be disheartened when you see another family inside, living in the space that was meant for you and Taehyung. But you needed to see it.   It’s your home. What you made with Taehyung. Physical proof of your planned devotion to one another.   The house is dark and you assume that the people inside are long asleep. So you take a moment to gaze at it, heart aching inside your chest, and after ten minutes, you turn to walk away and leave your home behind. But then a car drives down the road. It’s a modest vehicle and as you wait for it to pass to cross the street, it instead pulls into the driveway of the house.   The headlights turn off. The engine dies. The car door opens.   And you freeze, watching the person emerge.   “Taehyung?!”   The strapping brunette man is unmistakable. He’s dressed in his work clothes, casual sweater and black trousers, his leather crossbody bag slung across his torso. He looks tired from what you can see with the glow of the many street lights, his hair messy and eyes weary. But he still has the energy to be shocked at your sudden presence.    Shocked as if he’s been caught in the act. “What are you doing here?”   You speak on an exhale. “Y-You bought the house back again?”   He bought it after the two of you lost it. Even when there’s no reason to.   Not unless it still holds sentimental value. Not unless the memories held in there were ones he still cherishes. Not unless he still loves you.   Taehyung murmurs your name, “Y/N…”   You run to him, closing the distance, throwing your arms around his neck. And you kiss the silly man breathlessly, pressing your mouth against his and swallowing the groan that leaves his lungs. His arms wrap around your back, holding you close and quickly reciprocating. His head tilts and his tongue slips into your mouth, drawing noises out of you like when you were young and still exploring one another.   But it’s a kiss of sadness and longing — yet still sweet even after so much time has passed.   After a handful of seconds, Taehyung pulls away.   “W-What are we doing?” He shakes his head, letting go of you.   But you grab hold of his hand. “I still love you, Taehyung. I love you.”   His earnest eyes search yours. “How….how do I know you won’t just remember why you wanted to leave me. How do I know it won’t happen all over again? We’re still the same people, Y/N. It didn’t work once.”    “I don’t care,” you spit at him desperately. “To me, it feels like it was until yesterday that we were still married and in love. And right now, right now I still love you, Taehyung. I miss you. I don’t care what happened, that you lost your job, lost the house and started to feel bad about yourself and gave up on us.”    Taehyung’s eyes are rounded and his lips part. “You….remember?”   You nod. “I have gradually for a while now.”   Bits and pieces had fallen together the longer you spent with him, the more you looked at pictures and mementos, and searched your memories. They were loose puzzle pieces, moments of time, until you fit them together to create a whole picture. To finally understand why things happened the way they did.   And you can finally recall the downward spiral of Taehyung all those years ago. How he abruptly got laid off, losing his dream job that he had worked so hard to obtain, how the two of you lost the house when your sole income was no longer enough and how depressed he became about losing that home. How he sat at his desk for two years in the dark, playing games and wasting time, giving up on searching for a job and refusing to get himself help in his poor mental state.   You remember how he ignored you until you felt like his mother and couldn’t take it anymore. How he pushed your sanity enough that you had to walk away before you were damaged.    But in spite of all that has happened…   “I still love you.”   He’s an absolute shit, but you love him.   Without being able to blink, Taehyung tugs you in by your waist and he presses his lips against yours, holding you close to him. You smile against his mouth before your hands lift to cup his cheeks, cradling his face as he deepens the kiss. It’s desperate, hungering to make up for lost time, fulfilling the yearning that has dwelled between the pair of you each time you spoke.   Taehyung kisses you like he’s missed you more and the pair of you barely manage to break apart to stumble into the house.   “I can’t believe you bought this place back.” It’s a whirlwind, nostalgia slamming into you as you step into the foyer. You’re overwhelmed with emotion, feeling a staggering urge to start crying.   “Had to do a lot of negotiating, but I did it,” he murmurs proudly, happy to show you how he’s picked himself up, how he found another passion and followed the path, that he’s no longer so pathetic. “All on my own too.”   “Taehyung…”   He kisses you again, less gentle than before. He’s merciless, hands placed on your hips and your back arches into him until the force of his body causes the two of you to fall backwards onto the floor. Taehyung catches your head so that it never hurts and he hovers over you, leg between your knees while he peels off his coat.    “I’m sorry,” he says softly, gazing into your eyes. “I never got to tell you that. I’m sorry for hurting you.”   You nod, grasping at his forearms that’s next to your head and he takes the opportunity to lean down. Taehyung lay pecks against your cheek until he moves his way down to suck bruising kisses into your neck. You cry his name, writhing against him as he palms your breast and leaves his marks all over you.   Taehyung eats you out on the cool tiled floors of the foyer entrance, filling the house with obscene sounds that make you embarrassed. But you can’t complain, not when you’re sobbing his name and your fingers are sinking into his hair.   You end up cumming all over his swollen lips and chin, and you bat at him when he grins and says it’s delicious. Before Taehyung can completely ruin the mood, you grab him and with little warning, his cock sinks into your cunt, head poking right at the entrance of your cervix. You feel full and he begins to pound into you, satisfying that itch you’ve had for so long.   Taehyung makes you look at him the entire time and as you hold him, it hits you just how much you missed him. Tears leak from your eyes and it only eggs him on to be rougher. His fingers sink into the meat of your thigh and his mouth leaves hickeys down the valley of your breasts to admire later. You cum again and then he presses his pelvis into yours and cums in you as well, painting your walls in white.   Despite being sweaty and sticky, Taehyung kisses you again and the two of you hold one another. He’s sweet and affectionate until he starts to push his cum back into you with his fingers when you begin to leak.   “Now you’re not even trying to hide the fact you want me to get pregnant.”   The man mischievously grins. “Last I checked, it was yesterday that we wanted kids.”   You burst out laughing, unable to argue with that but…. “We’re not even married anymore. What would your mom think?”   “She would probably cry tears of happiness if she knew we were together again. And marriage…” He interlaces his hands with yours. “We could make it happen again. If you want.”   You nod. “I do.”

It’s another chance. Another do over.   You wonder if you had never lost your memories and tried to chase them down, if you would’ve ever reached out to Taehyung again and reignite the spark between the two of you. Had you not found him again, you wonder if you would’ve known that he’s picked himself again and returned to the man you fell in love with. It’s hard to say but those things are yesterday’s problems.   Today, you look towards the future.   “Wake up, sleepy head.”   On any other day, you might kick him in the knee for waking you up on a weekend, but it’s been so long that you don’t mind whatsoever. Taehyung’s mischief is world’s better than waking up to an empty bedside or to someone you can’t genuinely love as much.   “Ugh.” You open your eyes and immediately slap a palm against his mouth. “Don’t kiss me. Morning breath.”   Taehyung peels your hand off, grins and smooches you anyway. You laugh and quickly reciprocate.   When it’s all done and over, he snuggles into you. “You know…” You’re wrapped in each other’s arms and you slowly blink awake, glad that you’ve finally woken up with him beside you. “...those brown walls in this room are going to have to change.”   Taehyung laughs. “Happily.”   There’s nothing been more certain of. You want to spend tomorrow with Taehyung and the day after that and the day after that.   Until eternity.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #taehyung fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung fluff #taehyung smut #yoongi angst #yoongi fanfic #throw away your logic y'all #and indulge in some hopeless romance

[tsarisfanfiction]

End of Blue: Chapter 1

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Angst Characters: Gordon Tracy, Scott Tracy, Tracy Brothers

Thunderbird One’s dead in the water.  Scott Tracy isn’t responding.  Rescues never feel the same when it’s one of their own they have to save.

~~~ Once again, you can all thank, or blame, the wonderful @gumnut-logic for this thing.  Two seemingly unrelated vague conversations have ended up culminating in one of my specialties - yup, another Scott!whump, as though I haven’t written enough of these already (no such thing as enough!).  Not sure how frequently this is going to be updated - or how long it’ll be.  I know what Chapter 2 is going to do and I know there will need to be at least one more chapter after that, but muses do weird things.  Title has been snaffled from Beast in Black’s “End of the World”, make of that what you will.

“Gordon!”

John appeared in front of him, looking not quite his usual calm self.  For John to be showing that, even to a brother who’d learnt to read his nuances, meant that something was very, very wrong.

Gordon’s hands inadvertently tightened on the controls of Thunderbird Four as he held the sinking ship steady while Alan did the evac in Thunderbird Two.  This sounded like terrible timing.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, skipping all the quips he’d make if it was just a regular check-in.  The loss of John’s fantastic poker face and resulting prickles down his spine told him it was far from one.

“How long until evac’s done?” his space-residing brother asked.  An unusual question from their Eye In The Sky, but with Thunderbird Five under annual maintenance, the ginger didn’t have all his usual data.  Not even half of it.  Maybe that was causing the panic, but it was just that – annual. Nothing unusual, if universally disliked.

“Alan’s clearing the last of them now,” he said.  “But I’ve been asked to hold the ship steady until the GDF get here; they’re suspecting something’s-”

“Screw the GDF,” John interrupted, and woah something was really niggling him if he was getting that obviously frantic.  “The first instant you can let go of that ship, get the hell back to Two.”

That was not John-typical at all.  Gordon’s squid sense almost exploded.

“What’s happened?” he asked. “John, where do I need to be?”  He was running through scenarios but he couldn’t think of a single reason John would be hurrying him like this.  Not unless-

“Thunderbird One’s down.”

Shit.  “In the ocean?”

“North Pacific.”

That was the other side of the world.  Two hours, easy, until they got there, and they didn’t even have Virgil to get all the juice out of his ‘bird, what with the collection of broken bones he’d acquired on the last rescue.  Gordon forced his hands to relax before he inadvertently gave Four a command he didn’t mean to.

“Scott?”  Thunderbird One was watertight, she should be able to hold out as long as she wasn’t too deep.  As long as whatever had taken her down hadn’t compromised that… What the hell even took her down?

“Not answering.”  John always looked a shade or two off through the holograms, but Gordon suspected that this time the too-pale skin wasn’t entirely a trick of technology.  “Too much of Thunderbird Five is still offline; I don’t have telemetry.  Brains and EOS are working as fast as they can, but it’ll still be a few more hours before she’s fully back online.”

Gordon was just grateful enough of her was online to register One’s crash.

“Have you told Alan?” he asked.

“He knows you need to get to the North Pacific yesterday,” John answered.  “Not why.”

Alan was going to be furious at being left in the dark, but Gordon understood why.  He’d have to fill him in on the flight over.

“We’ll get there,” he promised, because there wasn’t another option.  They had to.  “Give me updates as you get them.”

“F.A.B.”  It was a reluctant acknowledgement, but they both knew John was almost useless until Five was fully online.  “I’ll update Tracy Island.”

Gordon did not envy him that task one bit.  Virgil was going to freak out.  Badly.

“That’s the last of them, Gordon,” Alan broke in.  “John says-”

“On my way,” Gordon interrupted – okay, so he was a little frazzled, too.  Sue him.  It wasn’t every day he had to rescue his eldest brother from an unplanned watery landing.  “John told me.  I’ll fill you in on the details when we’re on the way.”  He released the ship and shot back towards his floating module as fast as Thunderbird Four could handle.  “Don’t wait for me to get out of Four.  Grab the module as soon as I’m docked and go.”

“What about the crew? We need to drop them off, remember?”

Gordon had forgotten about the crew.  “Any of them need the hospital?”  A high-speed spin and he was in position for the cable to draw Thunderbird Four up the ramp.

“No, but-”

“Then they get a joyride in Two.”  Clunk, and the docking began.  Maybe he shouldn’t be authorising a nice round trip for a bunch of sailors, but it was already a two hour journey and they had no idea how badly Scott was hurt, or what sort of damage One had taken.  Gordon had salvaged downed planes before.

They weren’t pretty.

“Gordon, what-”

“Module’s ready for retrieval,” he interrupted, mostly because he didn’t want to answer the inevitable question just yet.  “Haul me up and punch it.”

“F.A.B.”  Alan sounded far from happy, but the familiar noises and rocking sensation of module retrieval began.

Despite his instinct being to run straight to the cockpit and fill Alan in, thereby making sure he was indeed going as fast as Two could go, Gordon took his time with his post-dive checks.  Thunderbird Four needed to be in top condition for the next rescue, and he refused to jeopardise Scott’s safety by fluffing the checks on the ‘bird that was going to save him.

She was, thankfully, just fine.  No warning lights, no errors, scratches or scrapes.  Thunderbird Four was more than ready for the rescue.

Now they just had to wait until they got there.

“Explain,” Alan ordered the moment he entered the cockpit.  The rescued crew were also looking at him attentively, although thankfully none of them seemed to mind the detour.  Gordon ignored them as he sidled into his seat and began checking their flight data.

Alan was a good kid; he’d heard punch it and taken it for the order it was.  Thunderbird Two was travelling at top speed, hurtling through the skies towards her drowning sister with everything she had.

Still, there was always room for a little more, and Gordon flicked a few switches.

“Gordon!”

“Thunderbird One’s down,” he admitted.  Behind them, he heard the unified gasps of shock from their passengers.  “John can’t raise her, and we have no telemetry.”

“In the ocean?” Alan asked. He didn’t sound like he believed it. Gordon just hoped he wasn’t going to go into shock when it sank in.  Hell, he hoped he wasn’t going to go into shock when it sank in.

“Yup.  No more data, no idea why, no contact.  We just know she’s down.”

Despite already reportedly being maxed out, Thunderbird Two sped up.  Gordon knew Virgil hated it when Alan or Scott treated her like their own ‘birds and pushed the limits, but he suspected they might get a pass this time.

Speaking of their grounded older brother…

“Gordon, Alan!”

Virgil looked awful. The pyjamas and general ‘injured person’ vibes – including at least one visible cast and general mummification by bandages – aside, it was entirely too obvious that he’d been filled in on what little they knew.

“Receiving you, Virgil. Any way this girl of yours can go any faster?” he answered.  “Alan’s trying, but he’s not you.”

“Hey!”

“Make sure you get there in one piece!” Virgil demanded.

“That’s the plan,” Alan promised.  “Anything from Scott?”

Virgil’s face tightened, panic and frustration both clearly etched onto his face.  It hurt to look at – Gordon knew he wanted nothing more than to be where Alan was right then, getting every last scrap of speed out of his ‘bird.  Gordon wanted him there, too, and not just for piloting.  Virgil would have a plan, but most importantly, Virgil had the best medical knowledge.  If Scott was hurt – not really an if if they weren’t getting any contact from him – Gordon wanted the best man for the job.

The best man was currently stuck in the infirmary with too many broken bones to be of any practical use even once they got Scott home.  Gordon and Alan were just going to have to make do with their lesser qualifications.

“Nothing,” Virgil growled, as though the word physically pained him.  It probably did.

“Maybe he’s just out of range while Five’s down?” Alan suggested hopefully.  They all knew that wasn’t likely, but Gordon wasn’t going to be the one to shoot it down.  Not when he wanted to believe it, too.

“I’ll try pinging him from Two,” he said instead, both for something to do and in the vain hope that Alan might be right – never mind that geographically they were further from Tracy Island than Thunderbird One was and their comms were working fine.

“Is there anything we can do?” the ship’s captain asked from behind them.  “I know we’re not you guys, but if there’s anything…”

Gordon was so glad they weren’t kicking up a fuss.

“Accept our apologies for the extended trip,” he shrugged.  “Otherwise, there’s not much anyone can do until we know more.”  He opened the line to Thunderbird One.

It connected.  Normally, he’d call that a good start.  Now, it just filled him with dread, because it meant comms weren’t down.

“Thunderbird One from Thunderbird Two,” he called.  “Scott, are you receiving?”

Silence.

On the other line, Virgil looked almost as pale as John’s normal holographic visage.  Whether that was the pain from his injuries, or something less physical, Gordon didn’t dare guess.

“Scott!” he tried again. “Thunderbird One, do you hear me?”

Nothing.  Not even a flicker of visual or a semi-conscious groan of pain. Nothing at all.

The thought crossed his mind that Scott wasn’t even in her.

“John, how soon before you get the cameras back online?” he asked.  The ginger head popped up to accompany Virgil’s over the dashboard – Gordon’s earlier observation had been right.  Their faces were both the exact same pallor.  It wasn’t a good look on either of them.  Beside him, Alan wasn’t looking too hot, either.  He didn’t dare think about his own appearance.  “If we can’t raise him, we can at least try and see what we’re dealing with.”

The line had connected, and he hadn’t heard water.  Hopefully that meant she wasn’t leaking and Scott was still comfy and dry, but Gordon wanted to be sure.

Needed to be sure. The rescue would be a lot more complicated without that sort of information.

“Cameras are online, but Thunderbird One’s are turned off right now.”  John’s face was the picture of frustration, and he wasn’t doing a very good job at hiding it in his voice, either.  “It’ll take a little longer before I can access them to turn them on, but EOS is making it a priority.”

Scott never let any of the rest of them turn their internal cameras off.  From now on, Gordon was going to enforce that rule for Thunderbird One, too.  If John and Virgil didn’t beat him to it.

Beside him, Alan was sitting in silence, staring ahead as though if he glared at the world hard enough, he could discover the secrets of teleportation.  Gordon really wished it worked that way.

Sadly, teleportation didn’t exist, and they were having to do things the slow way.  Not that Two was slow, but she certainly wasn’t fast enough.  Not today.

The minutes crawled past like hours.  With Alan firmly in control and channelling Scott’s inner-speed demon as much as the big green ‘bird would allow, there was little for Gordon to do except periodically try to hail Scott, getting ever more concerned as silence persistently responded. He could understand a black-out for a few minutes, but it was – he checked the time – at least an hour since John had contacted him and there was still nothing on the other end of the line.

Virgil was still there, hovering in his bed-bound state and periodically throwing his own frantic calls Scott’s way. Gordon hadn’t even tried to tell him to leave it to them, reminding him that there was nothing he could do.

No-one knew that better than Virgil, after all, and his frustration at his helplessness was steadily mounting the longer the silence persisted.

With no solid information on what they were going to find – external access cameras, which Scott hadn’t turned off, were merrily showing nothing but water and the occasional sea life investigating the strange intruder – Gordon turned his time towards planning.  Plans for an intact Thunderbird One, plans for a leaking Thunderbird One, plans of extraction depending on the severity of Scott’s condition.  He might be going in blind, but he wasn’t going to be going in unprepared.

“Coming up on the co-ordinates now.”  Alan broke through his planning – this scenario involving Thunderbird One somehow stuck and unable to be airlifted – to give him the heads’ up.  His younger brother had been far too subdued the entire flight, and Gordon just hoped he’d be able to keep it together a while longer.  Thunderbird Five wasn’t online enough to have remote control access yet.

And she still didn’t have telemetry, which John was panicking over more and more as Scott continued to be non-responsive, or control over Thunderbird One’s internal cameras.

“F.A.B.,” Gordon responded automatically, getting up from his seat and heading straight for the module and his Thunderbird.  She was just as he’d left her – fully prepared for the next dive – and he settled into the cockpit with ease of experience.

This was just one more rescue.  One with limited information and a brother’s life on the line, but still just one more rescue.  He could do this.

He had to do this.

Pre-dive checks were completed, all systems green and raring to go.  He wondered if she was as anxious to get to her sister as he was his brother.

“Ready for module deployment,” he reported, and barely a moment later they were falling, crashing into the water and rocking for a moment before they stabilised.  “Alan, see if you can get a scan of Thunderbird One’s condition.”  It wouldn’t be as good as a Thunderbird Five scan, but immediately overhead, Thunderbird Two should be able to get something.

Thunderbird Four slid out of the module and under the surface to the tune of his brother’s “F.A.B.” Nose pointed down and sonar active, he pushed her as fast as he dared towards the location they had for the downed Thunderbird.  It wouldn’t be exact – Thunderbird Five’s maintenance downtime crippling the accuracy – but Gordon had enough faith in it to trust that he was at least in range.

Sonar registered the craft just as Alan called him.

“Scans show one life sign,” he said, and Gordon knew he wasn’t imagining the relief in his younger brother’s voice – mostly because he felt it, too.  One life sign meant Scott was alive.  Whatever state he was in, he was alive.  “But Thunderbird One’s been taking on water.  Scans suggest she’s half-flooded.”

That was not such good news. It had to be a small leak, if it was only half after two hours, but with Scott still not responding, he had no idea if his brother was wearing his helmet.

Flooding also meant she was going to be heavier to lift, but the amount of water meant it would be too risky to deploy the tube to link the two craft and attempt to evac Scott into Four. He sent one more ping at the downed Thunderbird, hoping against hope that Scott would answer this time.

He didn’t.

Getting visual on her was a muted sort of relief.  On the one hand, Scott was found, but on the other, Thunderbird One was not supposed to be nestled on the seabed.  It just wasn’t right.

Her wings were still closed, implying she’d been supersonic, and the nose cone was crumpled from the impact with either the water or the sea floor.  Perhaps both.  Gordon suspected that was the source of the leak, but he was more interested in the way she wasn’t entirely belly-down.  Rolled ever so slightly on her side, he should be able to get some sort of visual through the viewing window.

“I’ve got eyes on her,” he belatedly reported.  “Her nose is damaged but otherwise she doesn’t look too bad.  She’s not quite belly-down, so I’m going to go EVA and see what I can see through the viewing window.”

He just needed to see Scott. See that he was okay, see if he had his helmet on and if it was intact.

“Be careful,” John warned. “Your suit won’t hold for long at those depths.”

That was normally Virgil’s line, but Virgil had gone silent.  Gordon would worry about that later, once Scott was safe.

“I just need to check his condition,” he said, tipping backwards into the airlock.  “I won’t be long.”

Compared to Thunderbird Two, Thunderbird One always seemed small.  Somehow, in the wide expanse of the ocean, she looked big.  Crashed machinery instead of sleek ‘bird.  The thought made him shudder as he pushed through the water, heading straight for the panel of window he could see.

Thunderbird One’s emergency lighting was on, dim and shrouding most things in shadow.

It was enough to see that Scott was slumped in the pilot chair.  Definitely unconscious, and also not wearing his helmet, because that would have made Gordon’s job too easy.

It wasn’t enough to see why.

He banged on the glass, in case the vibrations could do what persistent comms couldn’t and rouse his brother.

Nothing.

The water was up past Scott’s boots; Gordon couldn’t see how far but his brother was at least partially submerged.

“Alan, we’ll need the lifting bags.”  There was no way he could safely get Scott out until they were on the surface.

“Coming down to you now.” It was Virgil who responded, deep voice full of determination.  Gordon suspected he’d demanded the remote controls for them.  “How is he?  Can you see him?”

“I can see he’s still in his seat,” Gordon answered.  “Not wearing his helmet, so I can’t evac him until she’s lifted with all that water in her, and still not responding to anything.  It’s too dark to see anything else.”

“Any sign of what brought them down?” John asked.

“Nothing,” Gordon admitted, and that concerned him, because what could bring One down – especially with Scott piloting her?  “Only damage I’m seeing so far is from the landing.”

“Lift bags incoming,” Virgil warned, and he looked up to see the yellow bags descending.

With one last look at his unmoving brother, eerie with the emergency lighting playing over the water inside, he peeled himself away from the viewing window and swam up to meet them, making sure they were firmly attached to the Thunderbird.  No room for error.

“Ready to deploy.”

He swam back to Thunderbird Four, slipping back inside and into the cockpit to watch as the bags inflated and slowly, slowly, peeled the downed ‘bird off of the sea floor.

The ascent seemed to take forever, and Gordon kept pace the entire time, peering through the viewing window as best he could to keep an eye on his brother.  There was no movement at all, no reaction to the way his Thunderbird was rising back up to the surface.

If not for Alan’s report of a life sign, he would have been fearing the worst.  As it was, he was still terrified that something was badly wrong, although with Thunderbird One mostly intact, he wasn’t sure what. There shouldn’t have been anything to knock him out.  Certainly not for this long.

The moment they breached the surface, he latched on to her with Thunderbird Four’s arms and once again left his ‘bird.  Gecko gloves gave him the grip he needed to scramble up to Thunderbird One’s dorsal hatch, and with a quick manual override – that thankfully worked – he dropped down into thigh-deep water inside the Thunderbird.

“Scott!” he called, ignoring frantic demands from his brothers that he update them.  He’d update them when he knew what was going on himself.  Thunderbird One rolled gently with the water she was floating on, somewhat stabilised by Four but not entirely.  Not until clanks told him Alan had fired grapples to lock on.

He waded his way towards the pilot chair, eyeing the way Scott was slumped and already mentally running through all the possible reasons for his unresponsiveness.  A hand on the shoulder of the seat – not his brother until he knew injuries – and he pulled himself the rest of the way until he was in front of Scott, and-

Oh shit.

He must have said it out loud, because suddenly there were three brothers in his ear – loud and frantic – but he only had eyes for his white, white brother.  None of his theories, his suspicions, had been right. Not even close.

Blood-soaked bandages wrapped around Scott’s abdomen, but it wasn’t those that had Gordon’s teeth grinding in a mix of fear and fury.  No.

It was the knife buried hilt-deep.

tbc...

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #gordon tracy #scott tracy #john tracy #alan tracy #virgil tracy #end of blue

[brandyllyn]

In our own image... (29)

Chapter 29

(Poe Dameron x OFC)

Other chapters... My Masterlist

Word count: 2000. Read it on AO3.

Rating: Mature (NC-17) language. sexual content. PiV sex.

Poe ignored K-0’s comment.

Kina was in his arms and kissing him like her life depended on it and that was all he had wanted from the moment this night began. From the moment he had opened his eyes with his head in her lap and it was like she had never left. His body was pulsing with adrenaline and he wasted no time when he guided them to the bunks, pressing her down onto the mattress and covering her body with his. She shifted with him, parting her legs so he fit between them, nestling in like he had never left.

He didn’t want to talk. Talking was where things had gone wrong earlier and whatever had happened to change her mind - he had absolutely no desire to get involved in another long discussion about free will. Not when he could run his hand under her shirt and cup her breast in his palm and feel her push all of that soft skin into him. The door had been open while they were gone and the air inside was warm enough that he had no hesitation in sitting up and pulling her shirt over her head, tossing it to the side before stripping his own off.

He wanted to look at her, wanted to take in the sight of her flushed golden skin and those rosettes that framed her body so perfectly but her arms were reaching up to him and he sank back into her embrace with a low moan. The metal on her arm hit his shoulder and he turned his head with a glare, reaching with one hand to release the translator cuff and tuck it above her head.

That was better. Now, when she reached her hands around his neck there was no cold press of metal. Just her skin and his skin and the tactile slide of the one against the other. He dropped his mouth to her neck, licking across the markings there, rocking his hips into the juncture of her thighs until she was gasping and her hands tore at the fastenings to his pants. It took him barely a heartbeat to be rid of them, pulling her own off.

It was no longer just skin to skin. It was skin meeting skin and his hardness pressing to her softness. Her wetness. She was so ready for him he had to bite his lip to stop himself from rutting against her thigh until he came like a teenager. On second thought, it didn’t seem like she’d mind. Her back was arching under him, her hands pulling him close, her hips canting at just the right angle that the head of him slid inside of her.

"Fuck, I wanted you to come first," he mumbled into her lips and she huffed a laugh, her legs wrapping around his waist and pulling him down. He sank into her, every inch of his flesh cradled by her.

"I want to come with you."

Maker he wanted that too. He moved inside of her with slow measured strokes. Drawing himself out until he nearly left her and then sinking inside until there was no more of him left to give. He bracketed her face with his hands, kissing her and making love to her, barely even noticing the sound of a door sliding open or the soft yawn from the hallway.

She noticed though, her eyes going wide and she pushed on his shoulder with one hand. "P-"

Footsteps, padding softly, the sound of the refresher door sliding closed. They stared at each other with wide eyes and Poe was thankful that whoever that was had no need to pass by their berth. As one they turned their heads and looked at the wide open door.

Poe shifted, feeling himself pull out of Kina’s body and she made a small distressed noise. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and then reached out with his foot, pressing the door panel so it slid closed. The room was lit only by dim orange light, making her seem even more ethereal. He ran his fingers over her temple, across one eyebrow,

"Now where were we?" He grinned down at her and she shifted beneath him, welcoming him back into her body with a pleasured sigh and the softest brush of her lips on his. He had missed her. One day he would tell her. One day he would tell her how he hadn’t slept for days after she had left, missing the feeling of her in his arms. His heart aching for the soft way her laughter breathed life into a room. The way her hands had moved so delicately and competently along the parts of her work. He would tell her one day when she was able to hear it.

For right now, those hands were on him, digging into his back and he shifted on his knees, changing the angle of his movements inside of her. Her lips parted, her eyes fluttering closed, and he pressed further inside of her.

"You said with me," he mumbled into her neck. "If that’s what you want it’s gonna have to be soon."

She nodded, biting her lip and staring at him with wide eyes when he pulled away to study her face. He smiled, cupping her jaw in his hand. "Yeah? Soon?"

She nodded again and he let his control go, picking up the pace of his hips and thrusting his tongue into her mouth. Her body met his, arching into every snap of his hips, tongues tangling inside his mouth. When he felt her go rigid he groaned, felt her muscles tightening around him and he spilled himself inside her with a harsh rumble of her name.

He didn’t want to move. Her hands were tracing patterns onto his back, her body soft and warm beneath his. Being this close to her was… it was peaceful. Right.

They probably still needed to talk but he didn’t want to, would rather hold himself inside of her and gather her body as close to his as he possibly could. So that’s what he did, carefully rolling them both to the side - not letting their joining end - and wrapping her in an embrace so tight he worried she might not be able to breathe.

He needn’t have bothered. Her answering embrace was just as needy, her hands clutching him close and her lips brushing his. He shut his eyes and let sleep finally overtake him, every part of him that could be touching every part of her.

They woke still wrapped in each other’s arms. Kina’s breath ghosted against his neck and he took a moment to just look at her. To trace his fingers along the rosettes by her ear. She blinked at him and he smiled, pressing a soft kiss to her lips.

"Good morning beautiful."

"Morning," she whistled and her nails raked into his hair. He moaned and leaned into it, almost purring at the sensation. He heard her laugh and grinned as he rolled her beneath him, nuzzling under her neck and making dire threats that only caused her to laugh harder.

It was another hour before they left the berth.

Poe kissed her fingers before they parted ways, her to find Rey and him to the cockpit to check the systems. He couldn’t help the slight bounce to his step as he ducked into the small space, nodding at Chewbacca as he dropped into the co-pilot’s seat.

"Peace of the Day, Dameron."

"Good morning to you too," Poe was practically whistling as he rotated through the flight systems, everything looked good. Barring no further detours, they were due to arrive back on base early tomorrow. Out of curiosity, he checked on the heating system but whatever mess the droids had made of it, the system was functioning optimally now. He noticed that Chewie was looking at him and he gave the Wookie a rueful shrug. "The droids decided to play with the heating yesterday."

Chewie grunted and looked away. The reaction made Poe pause, "No questions? Comments?"

"Like what?"

Poe turned and narrowed his eyes. "You don’t want to know why the droids might mess with the systems?"

A rough cough. "I do not."

Poe stared at him for a moment longer before turning forward. "I see." He let the words sit there before saying, "You were in on it."

"I was not," Chewie roared, turning fully to Poe. "I told them I did not like deception but they-"

"Who?" Poe cut in, "Who did you tell?"

Poe put on his best Command face as he walked into the Commons, arms crossed and leaning against the doorframe while he took in the room. Rey and Finn were playing dejarik, Kina and K-0 at the workstation in the corner. BB-8 saw him first, the droid rolling hesitantly towards him and giving out a low whistle.

"Friend Poe?"

"It has come to my attention," he began and hid a smile when everyone turned to look at him. "That there was a massive conspiracy of which Kina and I were the victims." Kina met his eyes and winked, and Poe had to work to keep his face straight while he frowned at Rey and Finn.

Finn tried to bluff. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

Poe glared at the man. "Chewie gave you up."

Finn cursed and Rey patted his hand. "Didn’t figure there was any harm," she shrugged, looking at Kina.

"We could have died," Poe pointed at her. Every living organism in the room rolled their eyes at him. Hell, even K-0 did. Only BB-8 seemed to take him seriously.

"I am sorry Friend Poe!" BB-8 spun so fast he wobbled. "It was not my intention I assure you!"

Poe met Kina’s glare and pushed off the wall with a huff, squatting next to his friend. "I just don’t like it when you lie to me Beebs."

BB-8 spun and leaned his weight to Poe’s knee. "I will never do it again."

Cracking a smile he rubbed along the droid’s sensors. "That’s all I needed to hear buddy."

He stood and gave the two at the dejarik table a pointed glare and dropped into the seat next to Finn. "You’re losing."

"I know I am," Finn grunted.

"If you move your-" Poe started to say but he was interrupted.

"Do you want to finish this?" Finn snapped.

Poe didn’t get a chance to respond, Chewie ducked through the doorway with a loud yawn and a stretch. "What’s for lunch?"

Somehow, through a unanimous decision, it seemed it was Poe’s turn to scrounge up a meal. Which he did with minimal fuss and a bit of Rey’s help to go through the storage bay. He was still getting everything moved when he caught Kina’s conversation with Chewie.

"We’re following the old Farrekkian trade route?"

"That’s correct."

"That’s great, can we make a side trip? We’re going to go right by Centares and you can drop me off."

Poe’s eyes cut to Kina quickly but she wasn’t looking at him. She had a wide smile and was fully turned towards Chewie. The Wookie did glance at him before giving her a nod. Poe dropped the packets of food on the table and turned back to the storage, brushing past Rey on the way. Inside, he kicked the corner of a crate, cursing to himself when the crate didn’t move but his big toe began to throb.

He wasn’t sure what he had expected. Kina had already left him once, there was no reason to think she was back to stay. She certainly hadn’t said anything to that effect. Just because they had slept together again it didn’t mean that she wanted more with him. He knew that.

Really he did.

But he’d thought… He’d thought maybe things were different now.

"You okay?"

He didn’t look at Rey. Just propped a forearm on the storage crate and pressed his forehead to it. "Would you believe me if I said yes?"

"Probably not."

He sighed. "Didn’t think so."

The muffled sound of her footsteps moved closer. "Want to talk about it?"

"Not really."

She didn’t say anything more, but he could see her feet when she leaned next to him, her presence comforting him while he tried to convince himself that he could let Kina go.

Again.

.

Chpt30

#poe dameron #poe dameron x ofc #poe dameron / ofc #star wars sequels #star wars fanfiction

[banshee1013]

Suptober Day 10 - Sweet Rides

OMG I GOT ONE DONE ON TIME (well, sorta, HAHA).

I finally managed to keep myself to a pencil drawing only, still took me 4 hours but I’m pretty pleased with it.

Then I stayed up until 1:30am finishing the fic - which was supposed to be a FICLET - 2k later! Oops.

Anyway, here’s Day Ten! Now to figure out what to do for tomorr... uh, later today, haha.

====================================

Overall Title: The Road Less Traveled

Overall Rating: Mature (may change to Explicit, we’ll see how it goes)

Tags: Castiel/Dean, mention of Sam/Eileen, Post-Season 15, ExAngel!Cas, MostlyRetiredHunter!Dean, Road Trip

(Note: all ficlets are unbeta’d. At the end of the month, I’ll wrap up whatever I manage to get written, clean it up, get it beta’d, and post to AO3. So please pardon any mistakes!)

========================================================

CHAPTER FIVE - SWEET RIDES

Words: 2026

Dean’s fingers drum a one-handed beat on the steering wheel, keeping time with John Bonham coming over the speakers. His other hand, resting on the bench seat next to him, is loosely entwined with Cas’. 

After their rainy weekend interlude at Rufus’ cabin, Cas has been extra hands-on; never out of contact with Dean in one way or another for very long - and Dean has zero complaints with this development.

Giving a quick squeeze, he disengages his hand from Cas’ and flips the turn signal, sliding over to the lane for I-5 North. 

Cas up to this point has been focused on the passing scenery with half-lidded eyes and soft smile, quiet and seemingly lost in thought. Dean had squeezed his hand a few times during the eight hour drive from the cabin, checking to see if he’d dropped off, but every time Cas had turned to him, returning the squeeze; the look in his eyes full of love and warmth, and Dean will do anything to keep Cas looking at him like that. 

This time, Cas turns to him, but his eyes are now full of curiosity. 

“I-5 North? I thought you wished to go south after we reached the west coast?”

“Thought we’d make a pit stop first.” Dean smirked to himself, recalling the conversation with Sam yesterday when he’d called to check in and found out they were headed to Seattle. 

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

“Seattle, huh? Helluva drive just to get some Starbucks!” Sam snorted, his voice echoing slightly with the speakerphone on so he can sign the conversation to Eileen.

“Haha, Sammy. No way am I getting Starbucks in Seattle - that’s like going to Italy and getting McDonalds.” Dean paused, glancing over his shoulder toward the bedroom, the Cas-shaped blanket-covered lump in the bed still unmoving, and silently cursed himself for not setting his phone on silent. 

He desperately wanted to be back in there with him.

“So, everything alright? I gotta go, things to do.” More like someONE to do…

Sam did not sound convinced but didn’t push the issue. “Nah, all good here. Eileen and I are back at the bunker and just wanted to make sure you didn’t end up in a ditch somewhere.” Sam chuckles at his own joke, then continues, “Hey, I know where you should go… y’know, when you get to Seattle.” 

Dean sighs - now that he knows nothing is wrong, he’s tempted feign a bad connection and hang up - but he’s genuinely curious to find out what Sam is going to suggest. “Yeah? Do tell.”

“You should get some Dick’s.”

“Hahaha very funny, “ Dean growls, and moves to hang up when Sam yells, “Wait, WAIT!”

“WHAT?” Dean grimaces at the volume of his voice and glances over at his shoulder again. Cas stirs and rolls over but doesn’t wake. “What?” he says again, quieter.

“I mean, you should go eat a Dick’s.” Sam giggles, and Dean hears Eileen's soft laugh in the background.

“Okay, that’s it. I’m outta here.” Dean pulls the phone back from his ear once again and starts to hang up when he hears Eileen’s voice - “Dean, wait!” 

With a mighty sigh, he puts the phone back to his ear and hears a smack in the background; an open palm against muscle and cloth, followed by Eileen’s voice:  “Stop BEING a dick and tell him.” 

“Okay, okay. You guys are no fun.” Sam speaks into the phone again. “It’s a fast food place out there. ‘Best burgers in America’ according to Esquire Magazine.”

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

Cas’ brow pinches in confusion and it’s still the most adorable thing ever. “Pit stop? Why are we stopping for pits?” His eyes narrow. “Are they peach pits? Do you need to distill cyanide from them?”

Dean can’t help himself - he outright guffaws. “No, no cyanide, why would I… I mean, we’re making a detour, stopping somewhere here in Seattle before heading south.” 

“Ah, very well then.” Cas tilts his head. “Is it for coffee? I hear Starbucks is headquartered here, I suppose acquiring some from the original source might be interesting.” 

“NO Starbucks… seriously, why does everyone…,” Dean pauses, then carefully schools his face into a serious expression, “We’re going for Dick’s.” 

“EXCUSE ME?”

“BURGERS!” Dean manages to gasp out as he gets the laughter under control. “It’s a burger place Sam told me about. ‘The most life-changing burger joint in America’ or so Esquire Magazine would have you believe.” Turning to Cas, he arches an eyebrow. “I’ll be the judge of that.”

                                                ~~~ *** ~~~

“What the… Cas, I think I’m gonna be sick.” 

No, it wasn’t from the burgers - Dean hadn’t even gotten to those yet. He’s not even sure if they can. 

As they pulled into the parking area for Dick’s Drive-In, he had slammed on the brakes, Baby coming to a sudden stop with a squeal of rubber on pavement at the sight before him.

The parking lot was full - of Impalas.

Black 1967 Impalas to be exact. DOZENS of them, all in a row.

Some had their trunks open, the inside of the lids decorated with devil traps and wards. Others had green coolers nearby, identical to the one in his backseat. 

The squeal of tires had drawn the attention of the people gathered around, and one in particular waves and makes his way over to them.

“Oh shit, no no no…” Dean mutters, then quickly plasters on a wan smile as the guy approaches his window and leans on the sill. 

“Hey there, I”m Davis, President of the Seattle chapter of the Supernatural Haunted Impalas club.” Dean glanced down at the man’s outstretched hand, briefly considers peeling rubber out of the parking lot and reluctantly decides against it - the last thing they need is a APB out on them for decapitating a guy in full view of witnesses - and takes the guy’s hand. 

“hi, uh… De.. Daniel. I”m Daniel… uh, Dan, and this is… “ Releasing the guy’s… Davis’... hand, he turns to Cas, eyes wide and imploring. 

Thankfully, Cas gets it. “Calvin,” Cas says, taking Davis’ hand and giving it a solemn shake - up and down, twice, and a quick release - “You can call me Cal.” 

Davis blinks, then gives them a broad smile. “Nice to meet you boys. We’re all just parked over there, find a spot and come say hi!” He leans back, his smile widening. “Nice cosplay, by the way - Dean, I presume, and you must be Endverse Cas, am I right?” He throws fingerguns and a wink before turning to head back to the group.

“We should leave… yeah, we should definitely get the HELL OUTTA HERE…” Dean looks over his shoulder, trying to figure out the quickest way to bail on the situation; but just then, a loud rumble erupts from Cas’ stomach. 

“Dean…” Cas sighs. “I’m very hungry, and you promised me a life-changing burger.” He gestures at the group, many of whom are now actively watching them. “And they’ve already noticed us. We might as well go and order the burgers, and then make an excuse to leave.” He drops puppy-dog eyes to rival Sam’s, and Dean knows he has no recourse but to go through with the charade - at least long enough to get a burger.

“FINE. We’ll order the burgers, make nice with locals while they’re cookin’, and then get the hell outta Dodge.” 

Dean pulls into a spot at the end of the long line of Baby Wanna-Be’s. No sooner had they climbed out and closed the doors, a bubbly brunette bounces over to them. 

“Hey guys, you look great! And wow, your Baby is GORGEOUS! What’s her name?” She claps a hand over her mouth in dismay. “Oh, of course, I shouldn’t assume gender. What’s your Baby’s name?” 

Dean’s lips part but nothing comes out, at a loss for words - then, “Baby.” 

The bouncy brunette blinks, then nods, the smile returning. “Uh, great! Awesome!” She extends her hand. “I’m Brittany, and this is my girl, Gertrude,” indicating the Impala parked next to them. 

Dean has to admit - Gertrude is in great shape. “Hi, Brittany, I”m De… Dan.” He passes an admiring gaze over the car. “She’s beautiful.” 

Brittany blushes fiercely. “Thank you so much! She’s my pride and joy.” 

Dean can’t help but grin - he gets it. “I know how you feel.” He starts toward the car, his interest piqued now.

Cas grabs his elbow. “Dean… uh, DAN,” he stammers. “We should order our food first.” 

“Oh, right! Of course.” He turns back to Brittany. “Give us a moment? We’re starving.” 

Brittany nods like her head is on a swivel. “OH of course! We’re not going anyway, go feed your boyfriend!” She turns back to Gertrude and strikes up a conversation with another couple. 

They make their way to the order counter with no further distractions and order their food, both choosing the “Dick’s Deluxe” with fries and milkshakes, then wander over to the group of Impala owners. 

By the time their food is ready, Dean is genuinely surprised at how much fun he’s actually having - the Impala owners are friendly and really know their cars, the pride of ownership evident - and Dean can’t help but respect that. However, they of course are also just as fanatical about Chuck’s books, which Dean struggles to hide his discomfort with. 

As they head back to the counter to pick up their food, Dean turns to Cas. “I dunno about all this, Cas - they’re really into Chuck’s books and they have no idea what a tool he was.” His head drops with a sigh. “Should we tell them?” 

“No, Dean.” Cas looks back over his shoulder at the group, their laughter and happy voices carrying across the parking lot. “They’re happy; the books have brought them together, given them friendship - a family, even.”  He shakes his head. ‘Chuck used those words to manipulate you, but they have no power over you - over US - anymore. This way, they serve a good purpose.” 

Dean blinks - he hadn’t thought of it that way. Of course Cas is right. 

“Yeah... and look at all the sweet rides that came from them!” 

                                                ~~~ *** ~~~

They gather their food order and head back to say their goodbyes, but the group appear to be packing up anyway - trunks being closed and coolers returned to their backseats. 

Davis approaches them. “Hey guys… we’re about to head out, but we’re only going over to Golden Gardens Park to watch the sunset and hang out around the fire pits. You’re welcome to join.” He nudges Dean with his elbow. “The group’s really taken a shine to you,” he says with a bright grin, “and your Baby, of course.” 

Dean turns to Cas, throwing an arm over his shoulder. “Whadda ya say, sweetheart? Our first sunset…” he shakes the bag of food in his other hand, “and dinner on the West Coast?” 

“I would love to, Dean.” Cas’ eyes are bright, his smile soft and warm and Dean really wants to kiss him right now, but… company.

“Adorable,” Davis says, hands clasped in delight. “I love how you two stay so in character.” 

                                                  ~~~ *** ~~~

The last rays of the sun slip behind the Olympic Mountains, but Dean is watching Cas watch the sunset. 

He’ll never get tired of the look of wonder on Cas’ face when he experiences new things. 

Or for that matter, the sounds he makes, either. Listening to him moan through that admittedly fantastic burger was downright pornographic. 

He places a hand on Cas’ fire-warmed cheek and turns him away from the dimming horizon.

Damn the company. He’s gonna kiss his boyfriend.

He tastes the salt from the fries, the sharp vinegar of the pickles, the rich savory flavor of the burger, the lingering sweetness of the milkshake. 

He tastes the unique flavor of Cas and relishes it. 

Cas threads his fingers into the hair at the back of Dean’s neck and tilts his head just so and oh, it’s so, so good. 

He hears a few giggles and more than a couple “awws” and pays them no mind. 

He’s way too busy thinking about a completely different type of sweet ride.

#suptober20 #Day10 #art #fic #destiel #saileen

[patchwork-panda]

If A Moment Is All We Are (10/?)

AO3 link: HERE

Genre: Romantic Drama/Comedy

Pairings: OC x Dazai, OC x Kunikida.

Story takes place after S2-S3 of the BSD Anime and follows OC’s adventures as she joins the ADA and solves cases with the detectives and falls in love with Kunikida and then Dazai (Dazai will be endgame).

TW for this chap: description of a corpse

“Soooo? How was it?”

Saeki Mei grinned at me from behind the counter.

Just like she had yesterday, Mei greeted me the moment she saw me walk inside the convenience store and as we struck up another conversation, I began to see why the regulars became regulars. Mei had a way of bringing out the fun in people and I was really starting to like her. With just a few words, she’d almost made me forget all about the fact that every lead we’d chased down today turned up nothing.

“Pretty good,” I admitted, smiling back as I put my purchases down on the counter, “My coworkers really liked the sesame bread. Thanks for the suggestion.”

“No problem!” Mei crowed. “I’ve been working here for so long, I can proudly say I’ve eaten one of every type of snack we stock. If you need more recommendations to get on your grouchy mentor’s good side, I am always happy to help.”

“Sure, thanks.”

Although, if I were to be honest, I wouldn’t say I was trying to get on Kunikida’s good side. It was more like I was trying to stay off his bad side...

“Vegetable juice?” Mei asked curiously as she picked up the bottle of green juice I’d placed on the counter.

I nodded.

“He... he said I needed to eat more vegetables. I hate to say it, but he’s right...”

Mei put down the bottle of juice and looked at me, the beginnings of an amused smile tugging at her pink-gloss-coated lips.

“Sounds like he means well,” she said shrewdly. “Is he this nice to everyone at the office?”

“Well, I wouldn’t call it being nice,” I mused, tapping my chin, “It’s just his way of mentoring me while we’re working on this case—”

I stopped talking abruptly. Mei was looking a little too entertained for my liking and in an instant I figured out why. My face grew hot.

“Wait, no—it’s not what you think—!”

“Sure, it isn’t,” Mei drawled, her grin widening.

She propped her elbow up on the counter and leaned forward.

“He’s hot, isn’t he?”

“Mei-chan!”

As Mei hid a small snicker behind her hand, I couldn’t help thinking back to yesterday at the cafe and how those girls had been eyeing Kunikida as he sat there, all calm and composed, his gray-green eyes serious as he studied his notes—

I shook my head to put a stop to my train of thought. Nothing good could come of this kind of talk—nothing!!

Frantically looking around for something—anything—that could change the course of the conversation, I tried to look away from Mei only to find my eyes being drawn to the brightly colored scrunchie in her hair. Either she hadn’t been wearing it this morning or I had been too tired to notice it.

“That’s a really nice scrunchie you’ve got there!” I exclaimed, pointing at it, “Wh-where’d you get it?”

Mei frowned. Clearly she wanted to keep asking what I really thought of Kunikida (not that there was anything to say) but she humored me and turned her head to the side so that I could see it more clearly.

“This?” she asked, pointing at it. “It’s actually for my volleyball game later tonight. One of the other girls loves matching gear and made us these. Cute, right?”

As she shook her head, I saw that several orange bows and a couple of pom-poms were sewn into it, making for a vivid pattern of orange, white and black that moved whenever she did.

“It really is!” I said, and I meant it.

Mei beamed.

“I’m actually wearing my uniform under my clothes right now,” she continued, “I tried to get out of my shift entirely but the manager said I could only leave thirty minutes early for it, so I changed ahead of time. I’ll really have to hustle if I want to get to the station on time.”

“What position do you play?” I asked, determined to make her forget about why I was purchasing vegetable juice. I didn’t know too much about sports but I once had a friend who played back in high school and more recently, I’d started keeping up with a sports manga featuring high school volleyball players. Thankfully, my efforts seemed to be working. Mei puffed out her chest and grinned.

“Libero! It’s how I got this!”

She rolled up her sleeve and showed me a spot near her elbow, where a darkened streak of a scar sliced up her arm. She looked like she was about to tell me the entire story when her phone suddenly buzzed in her pocket, indicating the end of the shift.

“Crap! I gotta go!”

At once, she threw off her apron.

“Bye, Manager!!” she shouted as she dashed out from behind the counter, “Thank you for your understanding! I’ll come in early to open up tomorrow morning to make up for this, okay? I promise!”

And in response to Mei’s call, an old woman poked her head out from the stockroom area and raised her arm to wave.

“See that you do!” she shouted as Mei pelted out the front doors into the night.

But to my surprise, Mei suddenly doubled back and banged on the storefront window by the door.

“Kyou-chan!” she exclaimed, pointing a finger at me, “Make sure you come back tomorrow morning, okay? We have fresh red-bean buns coming in and I want to know more about your mentor! It’s a promise, alright?!”

“Okay!” I called back as she ran off again.

Chuckling, the old manager picked up Mei’s abandoned blue apron off the floor and held it in her slightly wrinkled hands.

“That Mei-chan,” she sighed, turning to me. “You’ll have to forgive her. She’s excitable but a good girl and whenever volleyball’s not on her mind, an excellent employee.”

“I know,” I said, laughing a little myself as I took the bag of bread and juice (receipt already in the bag, wow) off the counter. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back.”

And so, I returned to the convenience store at seven-thirty the next morning, with enough cash in my pocket for at least two or three red bean buns and a smile on my face.

But as soon as I got close, I realized something was wrong. The lights were off and the shop seemed to be closed; the bread delivery guy was standing there, outside next to his truck, with a clipboard in his hand, scratching his head. And it wasn’t just him. A few people were gathered around the front of the store, trying to peek into the windows and checking their watches. One of them shrugged and went on his way. As he did, he passed the old manager from last night. She was walking down the street towards her store and as I jogged up to her, she took one look at the darkened storefront and opened her mouth in shock.

“Manager—” I started, but she put up her hand.

“Excuse me just a moment, sweetie,” she said, taking a pair of keys out of her hand and going to the delivery guy.

As I watched her, my thoughts began going down a dark and twisted road...

Saeki Mei. Late twenties. Pretty, vivacious, athletic and well-liked. A reliable employee who left for a volleyball game last night and didn’t come in to work the following morning...

It was too similar to the case I was working on.

I could feel my anxiety slowly build as I watched the manager and delivery guy briefly exchange words; a shadow crossed the manager’s face for a brief moment and in an instant, my stomach tied itself into a knot. The manager signed the clipboard and unlocked the front doors and while the delivery guy went back to his truck to grab his bread, I approached her once again.

“Mei-chan... She didn’t come in this morning, did she?”

The manager sighed and shook her head. As I watched her brows furrow in thought, the knot in my stomach tightened.

It was almost exactly two weeks since the last disappearance and Saeki Mei was nowhere to be found.

***

“No bread today, Kusunoki-san?” Atsushi asked as I dropped in at my temporary desk (they were letting me borrow Kyouka-chan’s desk while she was out making deliveries today).

“No,” I sighed, rubbing my eyes. “I... couldn’t get any. When I passed by the convenience store this morning, it was still closed up.”

“Closed up?” Atsushi asked, his eyebrows drawing together thoughtfully. “I haven’t been there before but... is that unusual?”

I nodded.

Last night, Mei had definitely said she was going to be in early and she seemed like the kind of girl who kept her promises. And with the way the manager had reacted this morning when Mei hadn’t shown up for her shift...

My stomach tied itself into a second knot.

“Oh, Kusunoki-kun. You’re here. Good.”

Kunikida hung up his cell phone as he passed me on the way to the printer.

“The police departmen asked to borrow you to do a sketch for them. There was a burglary a couple districts over and they weren’t able to get any surveillance footage.”

He picked up the printout and handed it to me.

“I’ll give you the address, so go check it out when you’ve got a minute—”

Kunikida frowned. His eyebrows knitted together as he looked at my face.

“Is something wrong?”

“Huh?” I squeaked. “Oh, no, nothing’s wrong!”

Trying to shake off the sense of unease I’d walked into the office with, I slapped a smile on my face and held my hand out for the report. I had, after all, promised Kunikida I would do better and I was going to, no matter what.

“Let me see the address. I’ll go right away.”

It was probably too early for me to worry, anyway...

Taking the printout from Kunikida, I grabbed my things and set off for the station marked on the map, leaving a concerned Atsushi and Kunikida to exchange a glance as I left.

***

The sketch job turned out pretty easy. I was lucky that the clerk on duty had a pretty good look at the burglar’s face and so I finished with time to spare. Enough time to take a little detour on my way back to the Agency, so I hopped onto a different bus line on my way back and decided to swing by the convenience store.

As I got off my bus and headed back in the direction of my apartment, I thought about the possible reasons Mei had not been in this morning. Maybe she’d just overslept for once in her life—she was human, it happened to all of us. Or maybe she had exhausted herself at her game last night and had to rest at home. Or maybe she’d gotten injured going after a ball and was in the hospital and couldn’t text.

Or maybe she had gotten kidnapped like the other women and was being held in a dark room somewhere...

Shuddering, I shook my head to clear away the bad thoughts.

I could say for sure that nobody in my neighborhood had gone missing so far. Hopefully, that would still be the case. It could just be a horrible coincidence that Mei was around the same age and build as the other missing women and that it was essentially two weeks since the last disappearance...

The convenience store came into view and as I looked at the now-familiar store front, I couldn’t help thinking that surely Mei had come back by now and was standing behind the counter or loading boxes as usual. If I just walked in through those doors, I’d see a cheerfully smiling Mei, wearing her apron and ready to start chattering about my coworkers again.

The doors slid open with a soft whoosh as I approached.

“Mei-chan...?”

But she wasn’t there. Instead, the old manager looked up from Mei’s usual perch at the counter and nodded slightly in greeting as she saw me arrive.

“I’m sorry, young lady,” she sighed when she saw my face fall. “I can’t seem to get a hold of her. But she’ll turn up, I’m sure she will.”

She didn’t sound very convinced herself...

I felt my stomach clench painfully and hoping it was more due to hunger than anything else, I went to the bread aisles where I picked up a few of the plastic-wrapped red bean buns. The last item Mei had recommended to me.

I took them to the counter along with another bottle of vegetable juice.

“Maybe she’ll call later?” I said hopefully.

The old manager looked at me for a moment.

“I certainly hope she does,” she replied, taking my purchases from me and ringing me up. “Ah, these.”

She smiled gently.

“For some reason, it feels a little like buying this might summon Mei back,” I admitted, taking my bag.

She nodded.

“Hopefully. Hopefully.”

It wasn’t the manager’s fault that I left the store in a worse mood than when I came in. Nor was it anyone’s fault that I remained distracted throughout the morning. However, when I bit my cheek for the third time while I was trying to both type and eat my bread, Kunikida had had enough.

“What’s going on, Kusunoki?” he asked, turning from his laptop to me as I winced and rubbed my cheek. “There’s clearly something bothering you.”

“Huh? No, there isn’t.”

“You really expect me to believe that?” Kunikida sighed. “Come on, out with it. Whatever is on your mind, it’s costing you productivity. Now talk.”

I sighed as well.

“It’s probably nothing, but...”

As I told him about Mei and my concern at her disappearance, in light of the recent kidnappings, I couldn’t help but think about how strange this felt. I had just been talking to Mei about Kunikida last night and now it was the reverse; I was talking to Kunikida about Mei. But as I spoke, Kunikida’s expression grew cloudier and cloudier until he suddenly pulled out his notebook and started jotting things down.

“I think you should trust your instincts more, Kusunoki-kun,” Kunikida said, “This is indeed troubling.”

He flipped through the pages until he found what he wanted and presented me with the schedule for today.

“The store isn’t very far from us and I had a client cancel their last meeting at the end of the day today, so why don’t we go and check it out? It’s entirely possible this isn’t related to our case at all, but given the circumstances, I think it’s a good idea to at least investigate.”

He went back to his computer.

“At the very least, the missing persons case is the only major case you’ve been assigned to so far and you’ll be working with me for it. So if someone related to Saeki decides to open the case with us, you can take it on your own, or look into it pro bono off of work hours if you wish.”

He looked at me.

“Sound good?”

He was taking this seriously. Maybe I wasn’t crazy after all.

Relief flooding through me, I smiled.

“Sounds good. Thank you, Kunikida-san.”

Kunikida immediately turned away. He started fixing up his glasses again.

“No need to thank me. It’s a part of your detective training after all.”

Training or not, I was grateful. I went back to eating my bread and I didn’t bite my cheek again for the rest of the day.

***

“I see. Thank you for your time.”

As the sliding glass doors of the convenience store slid closed behind us, I could feel Kunikida’s eyes on me. I probably looked every bit as worried as I felt. Rather than calming me, the third trip to the convenience store rattled my nerves even more and based on what we uncovered, even Kunikida was starting to look concerned.

It turned out Mei lived alone. She moved here from the countryside and rented a single studio not too far from the convenience store. The only known contacts she had in the area were her volleyball friends. Unfortunately, neither we nor the manager we spoke to had any idea who they were or how to get in contact with them. The only thing we could do for now was set off for Mei’s apartment, using the address she’d filled out on her employment application, and hope that she would show up eventually. That was the best case scenario. The worst case scenario was something I really didn’t want to think about...

I stopped walking.

“Hey.”

Kunikida’s hand was heavy but comforting on my shoulder.

“It’s still been less than twenty-four hours since she was last seen,” he said. “I know you’re worried but you should try not to think too pessimistically about this. I know it doesn’t look good but it almost feels like a bad omen, to act like she’s unreachable or dead.”

I felt his hand drop as I looked back at him. I tried to smile.

“That’s a good point.”

Kunikida sighed.

“Don’t let any one single case consume your thoughts if you can. It’s not good for your mental health... For now, let’s just treat this as we would any other case. Let’s look for leads however we can and follow them.”

I nodded and let my gaze trail absentmindedly towards the river. I found myself counting the leaves that washed by as Kunikida talked. But then something big and dark emerged from water just beneath the walkway and out of curiosity, I went to the railing, leaned over and looked down.

My hands flew to my mouth

“And you never know,” Kunikida continued, “maybe something will turn up—”

“K-Kunikida-san!”

I jabbed my finger at the water below.

“What is that?!”

As Kunikida rushed over, we saw the thing bob and flip onto its side.

It was a body. The body of a young woman with long, dark hair.

I screamed.

***

How many corpses had I seen in person now?

There was the guy who had tried to meet me for a movie back when I was a student. Then there were the two security guards Akutagawa had slain in the gallery... and now there was Taneda Mayu, the second of the missing women to vanish. Why did it feel like I had seen so many more...?

Oh...

I clutched my arms even more tightly about my shoulders as Kunikida finished talking to the police officers nearby.

It was because I had forgotten to count all the people I’d seen in my visions but hadn’t met in real life. Mrs. Yamazaki had been the only one to survive her impending death.

I watched hollowly as Kunikida nodded briefly to the officer and came back towards me. The instant we realized we were in the presence of a dead body, Kunikida had called the police and they’d come rushing over and fished the body out of the river. They had to first prod it until it was unstuck from its position near the edge of the canal and then one of them had to jump in and haul the waterlogged corpse to shore. As the police closed off the area to terrified pedestrians, the one in charge immediately made a beeline for me and Kunikida and wanted to talk to us about the recent kidnappings.

I didn’t think I would ever be able to get the image of that bloated corpse out of my memories. All four of the missing women had been beautiful. Taneda Mayu had been slim and athletic, with an elegant figure and long legs that looked fantastic in the tennis skirts she loved so much. The only resemblance that thing bore to Mayu was the mass of long, silky black hair that trailed down to her waist; even the skin color had changed with rot and the passage of time. The coroner had yet to arrive but I could overhear the officer talking to Kunikida mumbling something about how Mayu had likely been dead about three to five days judging from her physical condition. Given the manner in which we found her body, the police suspected she had been either drowned or asphyxiated; there were strange marks on her neck, suggesting that someone had either choked her or held her under the water until she took her last breath.

“They’re going to interview everyone who was nearby within the last couple hours,” Kunikida said quietly, tucking his hands into his pockets as he sat next to me on the bench. “But I doubt they’ll find any real suspects. There aren’t any traffic or security cameras for this particular area and people have been moving in and out of this street for some time now.”

He sighed heavily and put his head in his hand.

“Kusunoki-kun.”

I turned to him.

“I know what I said before, about not using your Ability unless we really needed to, but the nature of the case has changed.”

He took his head out of his hand and looked at me, his green eyes blazing in the light of the setting sun.

“This is no longer a kidnapping case—we’re looking for a serial killer. And we’re going to need your Ability if we’re going to find him before the next body shows up.”

#kunikida doppo #kunikida #kunikida x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungo stray dogs #fanfiction

[countrygrlswrld]

It’s OK to go slow

This is going to sound cheesy—I know, because it sounds cheesy to me—but I feel some connection triggering in my soul when I paddle board. Hear me out. I hate to claim my “Native Americanness” because frankly, that’s just DNA, though I know DNA is powerful. Whatever it is, it’s something, something that draws me in and gives me peace and satisfaction.

As I try to dissect what it, is aside from my Native roots, roots that were never nurtured, I land on another highly probable factor: Speed. The slowness of it all. I’m drawn to slowness, and not just because I’ve always been last in a footrace. I’m drawn to slowness because it forces you to stop and look around.

Yesterday as I was paddling the Don Pedro Reservoir, I spotted some commotion in the water. At first glance, I assumed it was a few ducklings until I got closer and spotted heads instead of duckling butts bobbing up and down out of the water. I realized it was four river otters. They dove and ascended in a kind of breaststroke looking for fish on their descent. A couple of them glanced my way in curiosity as I kept my distance. I’ve seen sea otters try to tear each other’s faces off before so I wasn’t keen on getting too close. I imagine they feel the same way I feel when someone invades my personal space, which is to say cagey and throat punchy.

For the same reason I bathe in the joy of paddle boarding, I enjoy biking and running, especially while traveling. I just think you see so much more than when you’re in a car. I’ve run all over the world, but I distinctly remember a run in Germany when we were staying outside of Munich for Oktoberfest. I ran, vaguely knowing my route and ended up slightly lost, but not really. When I finally found the familiar sign I was looking for—Edelweiss, which was easy to remember considering my obsession with “The Sound of Music” growing up—all was well again. What I remember more than getting lost were the glowing red vines growing over a gate in all their autumn splendor, the Bavarian-style architecture of windows and doors that resembled something out of a Grimm Brother’s tale, and just watching perfect strangers start their day. It reminded me of that opening scene in “Beauty and the Beast” when Belle is waltzing down the cobblestone streets greeting everyone in the village.

It’s not just the slowness, but it’s also about being exposed, in the elements. Wind in your hair. Feet (or tires) to the ground. Pine tree musk in the air. Not only does your body get a workout on foot, pedal or paddle, but your senses awaken. My most recent bike rentals were in Australia on Rottnest Island and in Anchorage, Alaska—two very different places, but the feeling of freedom and slowness was the same. On Rottnest, Spank and I circled the island stopping wherever we liked and parking our bikes in the sand for detours to secluded beaches and swimming holes. We navigated around quokka and took in every shade of blue-green the sea had to offer. When I was soloing in Anchorage for almost a week I rented a beach cruiser from my Airbnb for the day and rode the Tony Knowles Coastal Trail. If you really want to take your time on a bike, you’ll rent a beach cruiser—and pray for no hills. Thankfully, I went clockwise and avoided most of the uphill sections of the trail.

My need for dialed down speed also explains my affinity for places like Chicken, Alaska, where life comes to a much-needed screeching halt. Not only can you slow down to admire the changing colors of the leaves in fall, but your calendar is a blank slate. You have time to be with one another, invest in relationships and just sit around a campfire and bullshit. This is what travel—and life—is all about.

Aren’t we all looking for more of this slowness in our world today? I mean, just look at our love and obsession with sloths. Sure, they’re cute and cuddly (I know because I’ve had the great pleasure of cuddling one in the Amazon!) but even more so, they are slow, and we are jealous. For Christmas, my mother-in-law gave me this cute sloth magnet that says, “Don’t hurry, be happy.” I just love that. Happiness is slowing down and taking it all in. Don’t be afraid to take it slow.

Check out my travel memoir, Country Girl: Letting Love and Wanderlust Take the Reins, available on Amazon and Kindle.

#takeitslow #travel #traveltips #sup #biking #running

[justlookfrightened]

Locked out, Part 21

Start from the beginning here:  Part 1

Read previous installment here: Part 20 

The next morning, Eric awoke to the sun slanting through Jack’s blinds, Jack’s pillow vacant beside him. He stretched his arms above his head, pointing his toes towards the foot of the bed and took inventory. His head was clear -- the last of three gin and tonics had been at about six p.m., leaving him only slightly tipsy and with plenty of time to sober up before he went to sleep. His muscles were almost stiff from sleeping so long and so deeply. Usually when he stayed with Jack, they woke up together, either to go running or engage in other physical activities.

They had indulged last night, when Eric had herded Jack to bed as soon as they got back to the condo, and said, “You want me to show you how good my hands are?”

Which sounded ridiculous now, as he replayed it in his mind. He was still feeling the effects of the alcohol then, he supposed, so that could be an excuse. But he probably didn’t need one, because Jack had responded … enthusiastically. And at length.

The rest of the barbecue had been fine, despite the vulgar jokes and constant chirping. Eric thought Jack had been a little worried about that, but after sharing a locker room -- and the Haus -- with Ransom and Holster and Shitty (good Lord, Shitty! Out to prove you could have a filthy mouth without being misogynistic and heteronormative) -- Eric had been more than up to the challenge. What he was worried about was feeling a sense of disapproval, or that Jack’s  teammates were uncomfortable with him, or with the idea of him and Jack being together. In a way, their teasing was reassuring.

Today Shitty and Lardo were coming down, at Jack’s invitation. It should be more low-key than yesterday, and Eric had no worries about how they would react to his sexuality; Shitty was the first person he’d come out to, and Lardo had known he was gay from the day she met him, and both of them were among his best friends. Maybe he had a few worries about Shitty keeping his clothes on, but Lardo was usually able to contain him.

Eric rolled over to look at his phone. Nine o’clock. He had slept late. No wonder Jack had gotten up without him. He sat up and then shuffled to the bathroom, relieving his bladder and brushing his teeth. Then he pulled on shorts and T-shirt from his duffel before going to the kitchen to make coffee.

Jack was on the couch, headphones on, watching something on his laptop, so Eric detoured in that direction. He leaned over the back of the couch to drop a kiss on the top of Jack’s head, just because he could.

Jack jerked so violently that Eric was nearly rewarded with a bloody nose.

“Ouch!” He stepped back, rubbing at his face.

“Shit, Eric, I’m sorry,” Jack said. “You startled me.”

“No kidding,” Eric said, coming around to sit next to Jack. “My fault. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. What’s got you so absorbed anyway?”

The laptop screen was playing something in black-and-white, something military. Another documentary?

“Nothing, really,” Jack said, closing the screen. “I’ve seen it before. Is your face okay?”

“It’ll be fine, although the situation begs for a joke about how hard-headed you are,” Eric said.

“C’mere,” Jack said, wrapping a hand around the back of Eric’s head to draw him close and fluttering delicate kisses over his nose and cheeks. “Better?”

“Getting there,” Eric said. “I’ll make coffee.”

“I’ll do it,” Jack said.

“Then breakfast,” Eric said.

“I ate,” Jack said.

“Really ate? Not just a protein shake?”

“Bananas, blueberries and yogurt,” Jack said. “And peanut butter on toast.”

“Fine,” Eric said, following Jack into the kitchen. “Then breakfast for me.”

Eric poured some blueberries over yogurt and made his own peanut butter toast. He had just started eating when Jack set a mug, complete with cream and sugar, at his elbow.

“What’s your plan for this morning?” Jack said. “I already went for a run, so whatever you need I can do.”

A run, then breakfast -- with the dishes already cleaned up -- and a documentary? “How early did you get up?”

“Around 6?” Jack said. “I couldn’t go back to sleep, but you seemed tired, so I didn’t want to wake you. I showered in the guest bathroom so you could rest.”

“Aww, sweetpea, you could have showered in your own bathroom,” Eric said. “But thanks for letting me sleep in. We should have enough time to go to the market -- I just need a couple of things.”

Jack remained quiet as Bitty finished his breakfast, rinsed his dishes and put them in the dishwasher, then dressed in something slightly more presentable.

At the farmers market, Bitty picked up a flat each of strawberries and blueberries for pie and some fresh rosemary and thyme for the turkey breast he planned to cook on the grill.

Jack pretended to be watching his documentary while Bitty prepped the turkey and vegetables and assembled his pies, but Eric caught Jack stealing glances at him whenever Jack thought he wasn’t looking.

One the turkey was on the grill, the strawberry pie was chilling and the blueberry pie was in the oven, Bitty plopped himself next to Jack.

“What’s the matter?” he said. “I’m not getting the feeling you’re mad at me, exactly, but something is bothering you.”

“Not really,” Jack said. “I’m just a little nervous about your friends.”

“Wait -- what?” Eric said. Because the idea of Jack (professional athlete, almost definitely multimillionaire, best-butt-in-the-NHL Jack) being nervous about meeting Shitty and Lardo was laughable. Sure, they were both phenomenal people, both had awesome bullshit sensors, but they were among the most accepting people Eric had ever met.

He said as much, and Jack said, “I know. You’ve said as much before. But they’re clearly important to you. What if they don’t like me? Or what if they think I’m not good for you?”

‘Do you think you’re good for me?”

“I try to be,” Jack said.

“I hope you’re not trying too hard, Mister Zimmermann,” Eric said. “I want it to be easy for you. Because it’s easy for me to be with you.”

“Being with you is easy,” Jack said. “I have fun skating with you, and baking with you, and, well, everything else. But I want you -- and your friends -- to know how important you are to me,” Jack said. “I don’t want to mess this up.”

“You won’t,” Eric said. “I promise. Look, Lardo went to the Haus with you to get my hockey cookie cutters to surprise me, right? She wouldn’t have done that -- especially without warning me -- if she didn’t already like you. And if I like you, and Lardo likes you, then Shitty is almost guaranteed to like you.”

“I know, and I know you came to the barbecue yesterday, and you were a good sport about it all,” Jack said. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Then don’t worry about them,” Eric said. “I’m gonna get the vegetables ready to put on.”

On his way to the sink, he picked up his phone and texted Lardo and Shitty.

Be nice. He’s really nervous about meeting you.

Half an hour later, Jack’s phone rang.

“They’re on their way up,” he told Eric, and opened the door.

The next sound Eric heard was Shitty’s voice.

“Jack Laurent Zimmermann, you magnificent specimen of a human being! Shitty Knight, but you knew that. Bring it in, brah!”

Lardo appeared, making her way around a befuddled Jack.

“You have to be careful when you tell Shitty to be nice,” she said.

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

Tagging:  @thehockeyhaus @cow-mow@communistchexmix@falling-out-girl  @whatnowpunk@wikihowpunk @zimboniiiiii  @butterflyimportantstuff @ladyaulis@delicatelycrispyblizzard @cyn2k @eyesforeverwithpride @bookbelle494

Read the next installment: Part 22

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #locked out #my fic

[dragoncat223]

Chapter One: Snow

A/N: so this is the thing I wa talking about yesterday, go ahead and read if you want!! I was kind of just blowing off steam, and this happened. Hope you like it.

When you looked at Snow, you would not think he was a spy. He was tall and well-muscled, and moved with the grace of a trained fighter. So, one may assume his occupation to a guard for royalty, a swordsman, or a mercenary, maybe. In another life possibly, but in this one, the teen was currently hidden in the shadows. He watched. He waited.

“Did you hear the Lake Base was raided last week?” one guard said.

“Oh yeah, I heard everyone drowned. They threw people into the lake with their hands and feet tied to stones, right? Bloodthirsty savages,” the other replied, shaking his head. Snow rolled his eyes and moved on, but it wasn’t their fault. They only repeated what they thought was true. Traveling from shadow to shadow, the boy caught snippets of conversation.

“Oh please, John is totally cheating on Aubrey with Kevin. I saw them making out in the hall by the dorms last week!”

“The captain said the shipment would come in two night’s time.”

“That one always jams. Here, let me.”

Finally he found what he was looking for. Snow slipped from a rafter to the top of a large bookshelf, making himself comfortable in the small space. There were only two men in the room. Between them was a large table, covered in maps. One man was young looking, in his late twenties perhaps? His dark, slicked back hair shown in the dim light. The other was in his late fifties, maybe early sixties. His hair was covered in an olive green hat, but you could still see his grey stubble. To Snow they’d be known as Steve and Bob, respectfully.

“We’ve checked here,” his boney fingers pointed to a spot on the worn out map, “and here, but found nothing,” Steve was saying. “Commander, we’ve scoured the area in a fifty mile radius. Either they are moving around or we have to widen our search area.”

Or they’re just smarter than you, Snow thought.

“Let’s not forget the those of which we are dealing with, Captain. They must be using some kind of magic to hide from us. No matter though, Princess Diane’s machine will be coming in two weeks time. Until then, we’ll keep searching on foot. Thank you, Captain Granite. You are dismissed,” Bob instructed.

Snow climbed back up to the rafters and made his way to the window he came through. His chose a long path tonight, risky and dangerous, but it let him hear more snippets of conversation.

“I hear it has spikes.”

“Laura told me she liked this!”

“Fuck! Okay, that hurt!”

“That tree looks weird. Has that tree always been there?”

Most of it wasn’t important, but still interesting to listen to. He liked to make up stories around what he heard. But that was for later.

These people thought they’d thought of everything, and yet missed one window. Well… several windows; and a spy, but we can keep that as our secret for now.

Exiting through the window, Snow dropped to the ground in front of a woman in full uniform, a gun strapped to her hip. “You get what you needed?” She asked.

Snow nodded. “Anyone suspect you?”

The woman smiled. “I’m up for a promotion.”

“Good. Now, I heard something about a device that Princess Diane made. You have anything on that?”

“There are only rumors, but I’ve heard something about it being able to suppress lay lines.” Snow grimaced and gave a curt nod.

“Thank you, Cam. Devin sent a letter with me.” Snow pulled the folded paper out of a pocket and handed to the dark skinned woman. “I know it wasn’t my place but some color caught my eye and I saw the picture Ein drew. It’s very cute.”

Cam smiled sadly at him. “Thank you Snow. Keep my boys safe, yeah?”

“Yes, ma’am. See you next week.” Cam nodded, pocketed the letter and walked back into the base. Snow slipped back into the darkness and made his way to the meeting spot. The others should be there already. The teen rounded a corner to see that yes, luckily his team was all there. Well everyone except… “Where’s Dahlia?”

“Told you,” some one hissed, and he swore he saw money change hands. “Sir, Dahlia took a small detour while scouting. She-“

“Is right here!” A voice said gleefully. A blessedly familiar voice. Snow spun around to see his sister standing there with a long, rolled up piece of paper in her hands.

“Gods damn, Dahlia, what the hell is that?”

“Oh you know,” the girl said, crossing one leg over the other and rolling her eyes to the side playfully. “Just the blueprints to the base.”

Snow sighed. “Just because you got that does not mean you are off the hook. I’m telling Blossom when we get back,” he turned to the rest of the group, “Let’s move out.”

They began walk back to the glider. Dahlia crossed her arms and muttered something about it being unfair. Snow rolled his eyes. She’d been fighting as long as he had, but gods did she act like a child sometimes. Though I guess you can’t really blame her; she was only fifteen after all.

The group found their glider and climbed onto the smooth surface. Snow a small amount of ice grow in his hand and shaped it into a key. There was a small hole in the vehicle and the ice mage inserted his new key and twisted. The engine purred to life as walls and windows formed around them. Seats fizzled into existence and the group sat. Snow discarded his creation to the hot ground below, where it would melt out of existence in a few minutes. A control panel formed last and Snow inputted the sequence that would take them home.

The glider began moving and Snow took his seat. They all faced in, towards each other. There were only five of them, six including Dahlia, though she was not a permanent fixture there. There was Zach, Robin, Rose, Calvin and Snow himself. “Report. There’s talk that Princess Diane has a new machine that suppress magic. We need more info on that. What did you find?”

“I was in the tech section this week, sir,” Rose began. “We got lucky and they were on a video call with princess herself.”

Snow leaned forwards in interest. Little was known about the girl. Just that she was young, brilliant, and the leading scientist in Powerless’ side.

“She looked about fifteen or sixteen, brown hair, blue eyes. I’m willing to bet she’s short, though it was hard to tell-“

“Rose.”

“Right. They were talking about the machine. She said that it would only be able to affect a one hundred mile radius. Currently it’s only a prototype, so only one exists. The princess is going to field test it and fine tune it here.” The woman paused, suddenly nervous.

Zach gestured for her to continue. “She will be here in two week’s time sir.”

“Blossom will be interested to hear that, thank you. Robin, go.”

“Section 7 is being transferring back to the capital. They’ll be gone within a week. I suspect they are sending troops home because they are beginning to become doubtful that we are even here.”

Snow nodded. The 7th section was the last and smallest of those that were located on the base.

“Good job. Zach, you were in the mess hall this evening. What did you find?”

Zach smiled mischievously as the rest of the squad leaned in. Was this really necessary? No. Was it entertaining? Hell yes. “Well sir, in section 3a Hudson cheated on Ben two weeks ago right? Well there’s this new guy who just transferred to the base, Arthur, who seems to have caught Ben’s attention. In section 4c Melissa and Mary broke up last week and now Melissa is dating Mary’s brother, Sam.”

He rambled on about the gossip he’d picked up for the next five minutes. Really, the shadow mage did his best work in the cafeteria. Seemed to enjoy it too. A little too much maybe, but Snow wouldn’t worry about that. For now he would listen and laugh with the others.

After a while, the vehicle slowed to a stop and the walls disappeared around them. The group stood and the chairs faded away. To any onlookers, it would look like they’d stopped in some abandoned spot on the arid plain. Snow nodded to Dahlia, who lit up. She always loved this part. The short haired girl leapt from the smooth surface of the glider to the hard dry ground below with excitement. “Stand back,” she instructed, not facing her comrades, ever the dramatic, “It’s about to get hot.”

She took a deep breath, and Snow knew she closed her eyes in concentration. She’d be fine, but on rare occasions, his sister didn’t have the best control over her power. Finally she threw her arm up, into the air in a long arc, palm outstretched. Brilliant flames followed the path of her hand, giving a moment of light to an otherwise dim evening. Snow allowed himself a small smile of pride. With the display of Dahlia’s power, the air shimmered, but not just with the heat of the flame. They had entered the shield that hid their camp from anyone without a mage with them.

They’d been here years, longer than Snow had been alive. Both his sisters and he himself had been born there. The rebel group had found these ancient ruins and made it their own. Buildings made from old, crumbling sandstone, repaired with new blocks and steel beams. Some prefered to keep the new products out of their homes and repaired holes with enchanted cloth, making them waterproof and unable to burn. Their camp was large, hundreds living here. Some were fighters, some just seeking shelter with their families.

There was a crowd to greet them. A little boy ran up to him, and jumped at him. Snow picked him up and let the child wrap his small legs around his waist and arms around his neck. “Snow! Snow! Did you see my momma? Did you give her my drawing? Did she like it?”

“Yes Ein, I saw your momma. I gave her your drawing and she loved it and says she misses you very, very much,” Snow responded, with a chuckle.

“Good to see you back safe Lieutenant,” said the boy’s father, stepping up to take the boy off his hands.

“Captain.”

“How is she?”

“Up for a promotion.” The subtext in the news was not subtle. She’s safe. Don’t worry.

“I have to go report report to the general. See you in the morning.” The man nodded and carried the little boy off. Dahlia was off talking to her own group of friends, all talking over one another.

Snow imagined them asking things like, “Where you scared?” Or “Did you see the armory?”. Dahlia had a wide smile on her face as she talked just as fast. It was times like this, that he hated to pull his sister back home. But it had to be done.

“Dahlia!” Snow called. His sister snapped to attention and turned toward him. He jerked his head in the direction of their house and she nodded.

“Coming!” The fire mage took a moment to say goodbye to her friends and rushed to catch up with her brother.

They left the crowd behind in favor of weaving through the maze of crumbling, half repaired buildings.

Next

#Snow #Dahlia #mine #fiction #i wrote a thing #:)

[themurphyzone]

World’s Greatest Dad Ch 3

This counts as my holiday story for the year.

Ch 3: Malls and Dolls 

Vanessa was an impatient bundle of energy. Her snow boots thumped against the seat as Heinz drove into the parking garage. He made sure to pay close attention to the road, because he didn’t want an accident preventing him from becoming the World’s Greatest Dad. 

“That van’s leaving, Dad!” Vanessa pointed to a black van that was backing out of a handicapped space. 

It was tempting, but Heinz was evil. Not inconsiderate. And like any other driver, he preferred not being towed and fined. Charlene would never let him hear the end of it. 

“Not that one, sweetie. We gotta keep looking,” Heinz said, another evil idea taking root in his head. A Parked Car Away-inator would be extremely useful in the future. Or maybe just one that specifically targeted monster trucks. 

Oversized wheels screamed ‘look at me, I’m a jerk and can run you off the road when I feel like it’ anyway. 

Vanessa pouted, resting her hand on her cheek. Heinz was losing patience at finding a parking space too, though he hoped Vanessa wouldn’t pick up on it. He wanted to be her role model, and role models didn’t gripe and complain about how busy the parking garage was during the holiday season. 

He was certain he’d already set numerous bad examples for her. Which made it all the more important for this day to go smoothly. 

Park car, enter mall, find toy store, buy doll, make Vanessa happy, gain title of World’s Greatest Dad in less than ten steps. 

The epitome of easier said than done, really. 

It took fifteen minutes for Heinz to find an empty space that wasn’t handicapped, limited time, or blocked by inconsiderate shoppers who couldn’t park within the lines. Unfortunately, the empty space was on the last floor of the parking garage, which exposed them to the bitter cold. 

Given his usual luck, Heinz would probably have to dig the car out from a layer of ice and snow.

“Got your gloves?” he asked. 

“Yes.” 

“Scarf?” 

“Yes!” 

“Hat?” 

“I’m dressed! Can we go already?” Vanessa demanded, throwing open the car door with enough force that it almost crashed into the neighboring vehicle. The cold swept in, and Heinz quickly pulled on his gloves. 

Heinz double-checked his coat pocket, taking special care to ensure that his wallet and car keys were in there. When was the last time he’d been this careful with his belongings anyway? 

Once the car was locked up, they headed toward the elevator. Vanessa complained about Heinz holding her hand the entire way, but he wasn’t risking her slipping on the ice. 

The elevator took its sweet time. Vanessa folded her arms, either from cold, frustration, or a combination of both. She leaned against Heinz’s legs as if trying to leech off some of his body heat. 

His body type prevented her from getting that, however. 

“So does Carrie McGuffin come in more colors or is it just one style only?” Heinz asked, trying to make conversation. Anything to distract them from the cold. 

“You like saying her name wrong,” Vanessa said. 

Heinz shrugged. “Eh, Jerry, Perry, Aries, there’s a lot of rhyming names out there. Hard to keep track.” 

The elevator finally pinged, Vanessa perking up at the sound of the bell. The doors slid open, and Heinz had to grab Vanessa to prevent her from being run over by a woman with a trolley full of Christmas packages.

“Keep your kid out of the way,” she snapped, storming to her car in a huff.

Heinz glared at her. “You know, when I take over the Tri-State Area, your house and livelihood are the first things I’m destroying.” 

“Dad, you better hurry!” Vanessa shouted. 

Heinz managed to squeeze into the elevator before the doors shut, still thinking up various ways to rain down vengeance upon that woman for almost running over Vanessa. 

“How come you’re always saying that stuff?” Vanessa asked, finally breaking the silence. The elevator was moving slower than Heinz would’ve liked. 

“Saying what stuff?” 

“The Tri-State Area. I don’t think you could be mayor.” 

Great vote of confidence there, Heinz thought. 

“When I do take over, you can be heiress. A Doofenshmirtz Dynasty sounds pretty appealing, don’t you think?” 

Vanessa shrugged. “Don’t know. Can I still have my friends?” 

“Depends. I’ll have to make sure none of them are interested in dating you first,” Heinz admitted. His own romantic history was lackluster at best and a flaming trainwreck at worst. Vanessa was actually much better at maintaining friendships than he’d ever been, but that just made him more worried that someone would emotionally harm her.

While there was no risk of getting hurt if you didn’t get close to someone, it wasn’t the kind of thing he felt comfortable teaching Vanessa.

Heinz breathed a sigh of relief when they finally made it to the ground floor of the parking garage. He didn’t fully understand why he wanted the Tri-State Area so badly, and he always came up empty when he tried to articulate his reasoning. 

Vanessa would be more concerned about finding her doll. 

Heinz held her hand, keeping her close so he didn’t lose her in the crowd of holiday shoppers. He held his breath through the perfume department, guiding Vanessa past the giggling packs of women and men who were struggling to decipher the various brands. 

Vanessa coughed, waving the air in front of her face once they were safe from the onslaught of aromas. “Where’s the exit?” she asked. 

“We’ll find it, don’t worry,” Heinz said. “Hopefully the rest of the mall doesn’t smell like ant pheromones and pollen.” 

“Do you know what ant pheromones smell like?” Vanessa asked. 

“No, no I don’t. Why would I know something like that?” Heinz said hastily. Thankfully, he could make out the entrance to the interior mall from his vantage point. “We’re almost there! Let’s go before they sell out!” 

Vanessa scrutinized him as they headed for the directory. “You’re lying.” 

Heinz coughed. “I’m not lying! When have I ever lied to you, sweetie?” 

“You told me babies came from a magical doonkleberry patch.” 

“You were five and you randomly sprung that question on me,” Heinz argued, figuring that now would be a good time to change the subject. “Anyway, where do you wanna head first?” 

Five stores. They’d gone through five different toy stores and found nothing. Dozens of children were proudly displaying their brand new stuffed animals, video games, and toy vehicles. 

Yet Vanessa was empty-handed. 

And the World’s Greatest Dad title was slipping beyond his reach. 

“There’s plenty of other dolls out there,” Heinz said. “I can get you one of those. What about the one that comes with the brushable horses? Seems like it would be popular enough.” 

Vanessa crossed her arms. “I don’t want brushable horses.” 

Heinz scanned the directory again, trying to remember which stores they’d already checked. “Just a suggestion. You can think about it. Okay, we aren’t going back to the one with the talking hyena mascot. That’s for sure.”

That toy store had the worst selection Heinz had ever seen in his life. Even Drusselsteinian toy stores had more variety. And those only sold branches and mushrooms!

Dolly’s Dollhouse didn’t carry Mary McGuffin either. Which was strange, considering ‘doll’ was in their name twice. It was a very blatant case of false advertising. 

The third store was more video game-oriented, and the last two catered to the young boy crowd. 

As he debated cutting his losses and accepting that he’d never be the World’s Greatest Dad, Vanessa pointed to the name of a store. 

“Unlimited Two?” Heinz said in confusion. “That’s a toy store?”

Vanessa nodded. “A lot of girls in my school have Unlimited Two clothes. And they sell toys.” 

Just what he needed. A brand name store. That’s what he deserved for not paying attention to the trends among today’s youth. 

But it wouldn’t hurt to look, right?

“Dad, let’s go! It’s gotta be in that one!” Vanessa exclaimed. 

According to the map, Unlimited Two was located on the other side of the mall. His legs were going to be really sore in the morning from all this walking and banging into oversized shopping bags. 

Vanessa’s energy returned, and she was trying to run off with renewed vigor. But Heinz kept a tight hold of her hand. He didn’t want to lose her in the crowd. 

The headlines he’d read yesterday flashed through his mind, and that made it all the more important for Heinz to not lose her. He didn’t want Vanessa making front page news because some wacko wanted a doll too.

“Almond brittle! Limited holiday edition!” someone called. 

Unable to resist, Heinz walked over to the booth. 

The vendor’s smile looked absolutely forced, probably due to the strain of the season. “Buy a box and sign up for our online membership! Ten dollars to join and we’ll send you coupons for our products via email.” 

Her intonation was seriously creeping him out, so he quickly paid for two boxes of almond brittle and got out of there before she could ask him to do anything else. 

“What a creep,” Heinz muttered. “I couldn’t resist almond brittle. Best snack of all time. You should try it sometime. Come on, Vanessa. Let’s go find that Ari McGuffin.” 

No response. 

“Vanessa, I know you’re probably mad at me for making that detour but it’s not gonna happen again. I promise,” Heinz said. 

“Who’s that man talking to, Mommy?” 

“Walk away, Johnny. Walk away. We don’t speak to crazy pharmacists.” 

“I’m an evil scientist, lady!” Heinz yelled at their retreating backs. “Get your occupations straight!” 

Heinz cursed his poor impulse control when it came to almond brittle. 

Vanessa was nowhere in sight. She must’ve run off when he was distracted by the vendor. Running a hand through his hair, Heinz took deep, shuddering breaths. 

She could be anywhere. Even outside the mall. This place was a labyrinth! 

“No, this can’t be happening. Okay, it is happening. Vanessa’s on her own cause you just had to buy some almond brittle. I can’t help it. I like almond brittle. Yeah. Okay? Okay,” Heinz murmured, drawing more curious stares from passersby. “Focus, Heinz. You lost your daughter, you get her back. What are you gonna tell Charlene if she finds out? Um, hi. Yes, I lost our daughter because we were looking for a doll and I got distracted by some almond brittle. By the way, could you start calling hospitals in the Tri-State Area to make sure Vanessa wasn’t admitted to them?” 

Heinz slumped onto a bench to catch his breath, tearing a nearby pamphlet to shreds to get his frustration out. Before he could rip apart the next strip, a pair of words caught his eye. 

Unlimited Two.

He was holding a map of the mall layout! That was it! That’s where they were going!

Heinz broke into a sprint, dodging strollers and not caring if mall security was going to be on his tail for this.

The bright neon letters of Unlimited Two were in sight. It felt like an eternity, but he made it. 

Forcing himself to slow down, Heinz took a deep breath. The sections closest to the front were clothes and hair accessories, all of which seemed too colorful and bright. He spotted a shelf full of large stuffed animals in the back, and figured that would be his best chance. 

He rounded the corner, breathing a sigh of relief. Vanessa was here. 

She was safe. 

“Vanessa! What were you thinking?” Heinz scolded, reminding himself to choose his words carefully so she didn’t run off again. “You could’ve gotten hurt, or kidnapped, or something else! You know better than to pull something like this! What would your mother-” 

Vanessa wasn’t defending herself. Strands of brunette hair were plastered to her face. Heinz cut off his tirade, deciding to save it for later. Heinz gently brushed her hair out of her eyes. 

When he pulled away, his gloves were slightly wet.

Her eyes were tinged red. 

She was crying. 

Wordlessly, Vanessa pointed to the display in front of them. 

Mary McGuffin! The Lovin’ ‘n Laughin’ Muffin! $13.99! 

But the display was empty. 

Unlimited Two is just my parody of Justice, or Limited Too as they used to be called. I got a few Webkinz from that place. It’s one of those interior mall stores. The stuff there is mostly for young girls. Kinda expensive too. 

I like making them suffer. I’m not sorry. 

#phineas and ferb #world's greatest dad #heinz doofenshmirtz #vanessa doofenshmirtz #fanfiction

[ashlynncoy-blog]

Misfire: Recovering Part VII

So... in honor of my beginning to un-fall off the face of the planet: I had this already written. I’m not sure when the next chapter will be done, but a little bit of happiness can go a long way, and we all could probably use some this week.

Have some words.

Of all the admirable traits a person might possess, Leia Organa had never been lauded for her patience. Her ability to appear patient, sure—but the people closest to her knew that she was one of the most easily frustrated and occasionally volatile persons one might come across. Those who knew her well knew the princess’s legendary cool façade was just that—a façade. And her ability to keep it up eroded more and more with every passing moment.

By the end of the third day waiting for Han to make some contact with her, Leia was sure her mask of wellness had vanished altogether. She was just so sad. And confused. And bewildered. Han had said he needed a minute. But it had been three days. Was he re-thinking the whole thing? Had he decided she wasn’t worth the hurt? The fear and melancholy were beginning to consume her.

She’d done everything she could to make sure nothing like what had happened between Han and her sentry droid would ever happen again. She’d checked with Embassy personnel, the Ministry of State, the Senate office buildings, and everyplace else she could think of to be sure any orders Isolder might have issued had been rescinded. All she could do now was wait for Han to come back.

She’d told him to take all the time he needed—and she’d meant it. But she hadn’t imagined he’d take this long. Her ability to push through was waning. She’d begun to question herself. Should she reach out to him even though he’d asked her to leave him be for a while? Should she call Chewie or Wedge or any other of their mutual friends to check up on Han, to make sure he was staying away of his own volition and not due to some unforeseen complication with his health? Leia knew she wouldn’t be able to go on much longer like this.

She was sure those around her could sense her general state of distress. Her staff had begun leaving her be for longer and longer stretches, only daring to interrupt her in the most pressing of circumstances—and even then speaking in brief, hushed sentences and offering their apologies for every disturbance. Something was going to have to give, and Leia wasn’t sure what it was.

This was the kind of thing she would normally have talked to Luke about, or Winter. But Luke had sent her a message saying he was headed back to Dathomir, and that he’d likely be out of touch for weeks, and Winter was still under deep cover for the Intelligence Service. There was no one she could talk to.

But she knew what Luke would say if she could reach him. He’d say she should meditate, search her feelings, look for answers in The Force. And since she could see no better solution, she decided to try it. She left the office early and instructed the embassy staff she was not to be disturbed until further notice

“Yes, that means dinner service. I don’t have any appetite anyway.”

Her hair was already out of its queue by the time the lift deposited her on her floor, and her shoes were off the moment she was inside the door. Her dress was over her head in time to be dropped onto the bedroom floor as soon as she crossed its threshold. She tore off her stockings on the way to her closet and un-fastened her earrings with one hand while plucking a shapeless house dress off a hangar with the other. Leia threw the dress on over her head, tossing the earrings onto her dressing table to deal with later.

She took a quick detour to her small kitchen for a glass of water before beginning. She’d learned the hard way that these exercises sometimes took hours, and that deep breathing for that long tended to leave her feeling parched when she came out of her meditations.

Leia set her water down on an end table, threw a cushion from the sofa onto the floor, and sat down. She wasn’t sure this was going to work—she felt far too addled to successfully execute a Force meditation. But Luke had told her more than once that those were just the moments she could use the centering effects of the practice the most. So she took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and reached into The Force.

And was immediately startled by the sound of her door buzzer.

Leia scrambled to her feet and charged toward her front door, ready to give whomever happened to be standing there a right piece of her mind and then make them listen in while she called down to the reception desk to give them an even greater piece of her mind for letting someone up in the first place.

When she opened the door, she was wearing the scowl that her father had once joked reminded him of Emperor Palpatine. But when the panels slid open to reveal Han Solo standing in her doorway, Leia forgot what she had been angry about.

“Han,” she gasped, launching herself forward to embrace him. Leia squeezed her eyes shut as she pressed her face into his chest, breathing deeply, trying not to break down right there in the corridor.

Han grabbed hold of her, wrapping his arms around her as tightly as he was able, drawing in one slow, deep breath after another as he rested his cheek on the crown of her head.

“Come in,” she finally said with a sniffle. She stepped backward just far enough for him to follow her in through the door.

“I can’t stay,” he said softly, “but I wanted to see you.”

Leia nodded.

“Okay,” she replied. “I’m glad you came.”

Han took her hand and led her through the vestibule and out into the sitting room. If he noticed her shoes on the floor, he didn’t say so.

“I’d have come by a lot sooner,” he said, “but I had a little episode. I blacked out day before yesterday. Best anyone can tell, I was out for a while.”

Leia bit her lip. She’d been afraid something like that might have happened. Although she had to admit to herself that hearing it now made her feel a little relieved. Because she was sure she’d been even more afraid that there was no explanation for why he’d stayed away so long other than his not wanting to see her.

“Are you all right?” she asked, gesturing for him to have a seat on the sofa as she bent down and replaced the cushion she’d tossed onto the floor back onto its rightful place.

“Yeah,” he replied, taking the proffered seat but not letting go of her hand. “It happens sometimes. They say it’s from stress—or from other things. I don’t know. But this was a bad one, I guess. I sort of… lost a whole day, and then they had to do a bunch of tests and stuff. Anyway, it kind of dawned on me how long it’d been since the other night and I just wanted to come and see you.”

“Ok,” Leia said. She bit her lip and shook her head. “Is this…” She took a deep breath and started again. “Is this too much for you?” she asked. “Because if our trying to be together is doing harm to your recovery….” She wasn’t sure what the end of that sentence was going to be. Luckily, she didn’t have to finish it.

“No,” Han interrupted firmly. “No, it’s good. Actually, they say it’s all good. I’m building new neural pathways—whatever that means. And even if it wasn’t,” he said, “I wouldn’t trade you for a working brain—not in a million years.”

That remark made Leia smile.

“Well, it’s a good thing you won’t have to,” she replied. She scooted closer and leaned her head against his shoulder.

Han lifted her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles firmly. He heaved a heavy sigh as he leaned his cheek against her head.

“I want to announce our engagement,” she said then, sitting up just enough to look him in the eye.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” she replied.

“I’m not sayin I’m opposed,” he said, “but I think your mom wants to do it all together—a big brouhaha: a press conference, a reception. What’s the rush?”

“I just don’t want anything like what happened the other night to ever, ever happen again,” she replied. “And there’s no way to know who all Isolder got to. I’ve done what I could. I’ve told everyone I could think of that I don’t care what Isolder may or may not have told them. You are to have the same access to me and my spaces as Luke or my parents. Even tonight,” she said, “I gave the front desk strict instructions that I wasn’t to be disturbed, but they let you up anyway.”

“You did?”

“I did. But that’s not enough. I have no idea who Isolder might have given that directive to. Where might he have given that order that I haven’t thought of yet? And I just think, if our engagement is public, then maybe anyone he did talk to will re-think their position on following it. I still can’t believe he did that.”

“Oh, I can,” Han said back. “He did a lot worse than that.”

“What do you mean?” Leia asked, sitting up a little straighter. She was already angry enough with Isolder she’d been tempted to call and ream him out. What had he done to Han that she didn’t know about?

“A lot of stuff,” Han said back with a shrug. “Did you know he offered me some shiny new fighter ship if I’d agree to leave you alone and let him have you all to himself?”

“I did not,” she replied. “And when you didn’t take it,” she surmised, “he systematically misinformed everyone he could get to listen—saying you were harassing me or upsetting me or what have you and that I needed to be protected from that.” Leia shook her head and pursed her lips. “I want you to know I’m furious with him for this,” she said.

Han shrugged.

“I told him I was gonna fight for you and he decided he was gonna fight back, and he was gonna win. And he did win.”

“Only because he didn’t fight fair,” Leia said.

“You think?” Han asked. “You think if he hadn’t fought dirty things might have turned out different?”

“I do,” Leia replied. “I think he did all those things because he knew.”

“He knew…?”

Leia nodded.

“He knew what we had was real,” she said. “He got an up-close look at the two of us together and he saw that it was just a matter of time—that we’d been apart and were figuring out what it meant to come back together and that as soon as we’d had some real time with each other, he’d never have stood a chance.”

Han smiled at her then. He reached over and pulled her to him.

“No chance, huh?” he asked.

“No chance,” she replied.

Han bent his face to kiss the top of her head.

“I like the sound of that,” he said. “I like that a lot.”

#misfire verse #ashlynn's fic #a little better anyway #giving the angst a tiny rest

[paradoxicalpatton]

Coffee and Flowers

Title: Coffee and Flowers (Only temporary!) Summary: Patton is a father who runs a flower shop across the road from a small coffee shop. He decides to start getting a daily coffee every morning and immediately falls for the cute barista. Pairings: Logicality, background Prinxiety. Trigger Warnings: None, will edit if necessary. Chapter: 2 Word Count: 2091 Taglist: @my-happy-little-bean @toujours-fidele @preyed-llama @a-valorous-choice @milomeepit @ironwoman359 @painfullybisexual @princey-in-a-feminine-way @sassysoysauce @headachechris (Let me know if you want to be added or removed!) Author’s Notes: I procrastinated writing this for god knows how long but I hope y’all enjoy it! Chapter Excerpt: They entered the warm store, the cool breeze leaving them as the door closed slowly. Patton walked up to the counter, feeling Thomas’ hand tighten around his own, he always got nervous going to new places.

Previous Chapter || Next Chapter

“Dad! You wouldn’t bee-lieve what I learnt today!” Patton was restocking some daffodils when Thomas came running into the store, his smile bigger than ever. Thomas rushed into the back room, dumping his backpack on a stool by the door and grabbing the apron his father had made for him, before running back out to Patton, asking him to tie it for him. Patton knelt down so he could help Thomas tie his apron, it had taken him months searching tutorials on how to make one and he spent hours learning how to draw the perfect bumblebee, however, Thomas cherished it either way. As the two ran the store Thomas told Patton everything he’d learnt about bees, like how bees have two stomachs, or how they have five eyes, and Patton hung on to every word he said. Eventually it was time to close up shop, both Patton and Thomas moved quickly, packing away the items that needed to be stored in the back room overnight, and emptying the register. Before they left Patton picked Thomas up, sitting him on his hip, so he could flip around the ‘Open’ sign, it was Thomas’ favourite part of the afternoon. As they left the store Patton glanced over to the coffee shop, catching another glimpse of the handsome barista.

As well as being a good shop owner, Patton was also an excellent cook. Of course he couldn’t make a lot of things but the stuff he did know was definitely tasty. Thomas loved helping his father whenever he could, so when dinner time came along he was bouncing off the walls with excitement. Patton usually had Thomas wash the vegetables, help mash the potatoes, or even set the table. Neither of them minded that it was just the two of them, it gave them more time to spend with one another. On nights when Thomas was feeling anxious or a little sad they would build a pillow fort in the lounge room, watching countless Disney movies after making homemade pizza. Tonight, however, they were making spaghetti, both of their favourites.

“Hey Thomas?” Patton had placed the bowls down on the small dining table, sitting next to a happy Thomas.

“Yeah Dad?” Thomas glanced up at Patton, cutting of the conversation he was having with his bee plushie that sat on the table.

“Do you remember Mrs. Davidson?” Thomas nodded vigorously, Mrs. Davidson always gave him lollies when Patton wasn’t looking. “Good. Well, she suggested that we sell your flower pots in the shop. Do you think you could paint more if I gave you extra pocket money?” Patton spoke hopefully as Thomas ate his dinner, the sound of Thomas’ spoon falling filling the room.

“Really? You wanna sell my pots!” Thomas began bouncing happily in his seat, his smile spreading from ear to ear.

“Of course, but only if you’re ok with it.” Patton leant forward, cupping Thomas’ cheek in his hand.

“Yeah! Can i paint bees on all of them?” Thomas grabbed his bee plushie and hugged it close to his chest, smiling at his father.

“You can paint whatever you want on them, kiddo!” Patton grinned as Thomas hugged him, the plushie squished between them. Eventually Thomas pulled back, allowing them both to eat their dinner, most of time Thomas would talk about bees and how he wanted to help them.

“Dad?”

“Yes Thomas?”

“Why are you so happy today?” Patton stared at Thomas, a stunned look on his face. What was he supposed to say to that? Oh it’s nothing, just the cute guy at the coffee shop. He couldn’t say that to Thomas, he was his son!

“No reason, I just had a joke stuck in my head!” Thomas watched Patton as he played with his pasta, not believing what he was told.

“But you always have jokes stuck in your head. Was it another boy!” Thomas leant forward, his eyes sparkling as he spoke. How was Patton going to tell him? He couldn’t, not after- not after the last one.

“No, no, it wasn’t a boy. I just love learning about bees!” This, of course, caused Thomas to forget about their conversation and start ranting about bees again. Patton wasn’t concerned so much about Thomas knowing he was gay, he just didn’t want Thomas to see him hurt again. Before Patton had adopted Thomas, he’d dated a guy named Dorian. Dorian treated Patton like a king, whispering sweet nothings to him, saying he loved Patton. Then he tore Patton apart, he ruined him. He manipulated Patton and broke him in ways he couldn’t understand. It took Patton years before he could feel safe around anyone but his best friend, and even then his friend left him to pursue Broadway. But he has Thomas now, he had someone who loved him and depended on him, he had to protect his son. And if that meant hiding the fact that he thought a guy was cute then that’s what he would do. Thomas knew he dated Dorian, he knew that Patton liked boys, he just didn’t know how broken his father really was. And Patton was going to keep it that way. The two finished their dinner in peace, washing up their dishes before heading to bed early.

The next morning was eventful to say the least. Patton had decided that after having to clean up Thomas after he was sick last night that the tiny bee enthusiast was staying home. Thomas did not like that one bit, usually he would love to stay home and help Patton in the shop, but once again his teacher was teaching the class about bees and Thomas wanted to be there. So it had shocked Patton when he was shaken awake by Thomas, who was dressed and ready for school. It took him half an hour to convince Thomas that he wouldn’t be missing out on much, plus Thomas knew more about bees than anyone in his class. Eventually the two left for the flower shop, they’d decided to walk that day since Thomas’ car sickness wouldn’t help with the flu he already had. Before they opened ‘Once and Floral’, Patton had detoured across to the coffee shop. If he had a sick Thomas with him then he would definitely need a coffee to keep him focused, well, that and he kind of wanted to see the nameless guy that had plagued his thoughts. They entered the warm store, the cool breeze leaving them as the door closed slowly. Patton walked up to the counter, feeling Thomas’ hand tighten around his own, he always got nervous going to new places. The barista looked up, doing a double-take when he realised who was in front of him. But of course, the man was straight, he had a child for god's sake! What made him think he had a chance? Nonetheless, he still gave Patton a small smirk, the corners of his lips barely lifting up.

“Good morning, what can I get for you today?” Patton tore his eyes away from the menu, daring to look at the man in front of him.

“Uh- hello again, you wouldn’t remember what I ordered yesterday would you?” Thomas squeezed his dad’s hand, rocking back and forth on his heels as he did.

“How could I forget, you were the one who’d forgotten their wallet.” Patton felt his cheeks heat up, ok, so the cute guy remembered him, who cares. Patton, obviously.

“Oh yeah, sorry about that. I’ve got it today though!” Patton grinned as the barista let out a soft chuckle, it sounded just as beautiful as he looked, it was deep, and a little raspy but boy did Patton want to hear it again.

“Alright, one tall caramel macchiato, is that all?” By now Thomas had wandered off to the pastry cabinet, he knew his father wouldn’t buy him anything if he was ill. Patton nodded to the question and paid for his drink, reminding the barista one more of his name, ‘Oh, just Patton again!’, before spinning around to find Thomas. But he was not prepared for who he’d seen next. Thomas was jumping up and down around a tall man who wore a white jacket and knitted red wool scarf, just like the scarf Patton had knit for his best friend all those years ago.

“Roman?” Patton stepped forward, both Thomas and the mystery man turning to look at the person who spoke.

“Hey Pat, you didn’t miss me too much did you?”

In that moment time had stopped, and Patton had forgotten about Thomas and his new crush. He rushed forward, melting in the warm embrace he’d longed for for years. Roman wrapped his strong arms around the shorter man, immediately remembering everything they’d been through. First loves, first heartbreaks, they were each other’s first kiss, Patton was the one who helped him rehearse for every play, and Roman was the one who helped Patton buy his flower shop. Logan watched along from behind the coffee machine, looks like the cute dad did like guys, except he already had a boyfriend. He was finishing Patton’s coffee when Virgil walked in, jumping up to sit on the counter in front of his nerdy brother. The two talked about Virgil’s studies as Logan shuffled over to the pastry cabinet, placing a blueberry muffin on the plate he was holding. Thomas’ eyes lit up as he saw the barista walking towards him, Patton’s coffee and a muffin in hand.

“Caramel macchiato for ‘Just Patton’-” Logan placed the coffee on the table the other three were sitting at, turning to look at the bouncing child behind him. “-And a blueberry muffin for you.” Thomas’ smile widened as Logan put the plate down, a small smirk tugging at his lips.

“Oh, I didn’t order a muffin, there must be a-” Patton glanced up at the still nameless man he was crushing on, and boy was he more handsome up close.

“No, no. It’s on the house, I noticed him staring at the cabinet earlier.” Logan let out a quiet chuckle, remembering how cute Thomas had looked a few minutes ago.

“Uh, thank you then, Mr.?” Patton stared into his chocolate eyes, awaiting the reveal of the beautiful barista.

“Woods, Logan Woods. And your friends are?” Logan felt himself heat up as he looked at Patton, noticing the freckles that were sprinkled across his nose and cheeks.

“Ah yes! This is Thomas, he’s my son, but you already guessed that. And this is Roman, you didn’t know his name?” Thomas moved over in the booth seat his was kneeling on, letting Logan slide in next to him.

“No I’m afraid I didn’t, he prefered the name ‘Prince’.” Patton let out a laugh as Roman looked at the father with a shocked look on his face.

“What’s so funny pouty mc specs?” Patton turned to look at Roman, failing to contain the giggles.

“Of course you still go by Prince, you’re so dramatic.” Roman cried out, throwing his hand across his forehead. As the two argued playfully back and forth Thomas tugged on the sleeve of Logan’s shirt, successfully gaining his attention. Logan looked down at the boy who was holding out a bit of the muffin he’d broken off, Thomas grinned as Logan took the offering, nearly moaning in delight at the taste. Blueberry muffins were definitely his favourite. Once he’d finished the small piece Thomas tore one off for himself, before offering another to Logan, which he gladly accepted.

“Sorry about that Logan, Roman can get quite passionate. I hope Thomas hasn’t been a bother.” Patton looked over to Logan and Thomas, smiling at the two sharing the muffin.

“Oh no he’s-” Logan finished eating the remaining muffin in his mouth before speaking again. “-Pardon me. But yes, Thomas was fine, not a bother in the slightest.” Before Patton could say anymore Virgil walked over, sitting himself on Logan’s lap. Throughout the coffee shop cries of protest could be heard from underneath Virgil as Logan struggled to push him off. Patton watched and felt his heart sting, of course he had a boyfriend.

“Anyway, thank you for the muffin but we should go open up shop. Come on Thomas.” Thomas slipped under the table crawling out the other side and grabbing his father's hand.

“Stop by anytime Ro.” Patton leant down, kissing the top of Roman’s head before leaving to his own store.

As much as Logan hated to see him leave, he loved to watch him go.

#Thomas Sanders #Sanders Sides #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Virgil Sanders #Roman Sanders #Fanfic #Fanfiction #My fic #Logic #Morality #Anxiety #creativity #coffee and flowers #Logicality #Prinxiety #Platonic analogical #Platonic royality #Platonic LAMP #thatsthat24 #Sanders sides fic #Flower shop AU #Coffee shop AU #Human! AU

[nyxwordsmith]

"Who- who got a dog?" "I thought we could use the company." "we already have SEVEN!"

Um, did someone ask for some LAMP with workaholic Logan getting a new dog? No? Well, that’s what I got from this one!

Warnings: Shouting, Swearing

Word Count: 1,917

Genre: A tiny bit of angst, followed by nothing by FLUFF. (Gawd, I write a lot of fluff on here, don’t I?)

It had been a really long day. Work seemed todrag on forever, presented with problem after problem, idiot after idiot. Thepainkillers he’d taken to stave off his headache was wearing off, and that dullache worsened with each sway and dip of the bus.

The only word that truly came to mind, wasweary. And even though he knew it would do no good, he couldn’t help but tensehis jaw, clenching his teeth and hopingfor some peace and quiet once he got home.

Given the dreary weather outside, Logan doubted that very much.

Still, there was always a chance. And it wasthat tiny flicker of hope that kept Logan’s eyes trained resolutely on thewindow, searching for the landmarks he needed before he pressed the button tostop.

The air outside the bus wasn’t much warmer,but the fierce wind bit into every exposed patch of skin it could find. Hewrapped his arms around himself in his thick coat, pulling his scarf up tocover his mouth as he walked, head low as he strode down the pavement.

The walk home wasn’t that long, but with thebuilding migraine, weariness of a long day and the bitter cold, Logan felt likeit took years.

His eyes lit up with new life when he saw hisyard in the distance, and his step quickened slightly as he hugged himselftighter. Home was so close. Familiar faces and hot chocolate and warmth…soclose.

The familiar sound of soft barking beyond thefront door grated a little against Logan’s already pounding head, but he took asteadying breath and slipped the key into the lock. His frozen hands struggledto work the lock, but the warm air that flooded over him immediately easedmuscles in his neck and shoulders.

It was an improvement, but not by a lot.

He paused just inside the door to shed hisjacket, hanging it off a nearby hook and draped his scarf over it. A small,furry body bounded to his ankles, sniffing eagerly at his pants and Logan’spotentially good mood slipped away.

Lips pressed into a thin line, he strode tothe commons, the tiny dog in tow by his side. It stopped with him as Logan tookin the scene before him, eyes flashing with his barely contained frustration.

Virgil was perched on the counter, legs drawnclose as he hissed at a barking German Shepard. He was the first to notice Logan,looking up with an apologetic and concerned expression, batting at the barkingdog again before trying to shuffle away from the edge of the counter.

Patton was on the floor, buried in many otherdogs, giggling loudly as he played and pet them, his glasses pushed up into hishair. Roman was laying along the couch, another smaller, older dog draped overhis chest and stomach.

Roman noticed Logan before Patton, his eyeswidening slightly when he saw Logan’s clenched fists at his sides. “Lo-“

“Who-“ Logan ground his teeth, regretting itwhen his head thundered loudly, but his tone softened slightly, “Who got a dog?”he gestured to the small dog sitting by his ankles, looking up at him curiously.The edge in his voice hadn’t gone away, and Virgil frowned at Logan.

Patton giggled as he carefully pulled himselfto his hands and feet, pushing his glasses properly over his eyes, “I thoughtwe could use the company, Lo!” he cheerfully answered, getting to his feet andbrushing hair off his pants, “And he just reminded me of-“

Patton finally looked up at Logan, who didn’tlook well in the slightest. The corners of his eyes were pinched, his jawmuscles flexing, hands curled into fists at his sides.

“We already have seven!” Logan shouted, his patience at an end, “Why would you get another dog?!” the tiny dog at his feetlowered it’s ears slightly, but didn’t seem deterred by Logan’s outburst, “Thisis by far-“

Patton clasped his hands together, holdingthem at his chest, “He has a calm temperament.” Patton offered, somehowmanaging to cut Logan off despite his gentle, soft tone, “I thought he would besuited for your needs.”

Logan’s eyes widened for a moment, before theynarrowed and he sharply inhaled. Patton knew the signs of a migraine when hesaw them, but knew that he was also the subject of Logan’s current ire.

Roman was slowly shifting his older companiononto the couch, gently draping him in a blanket as he got to his feet, “My needs?” Logan ground out, “I don’tneed a dog!” his temper was flaring dangerously, “I just need some fucking qui-“

Gentle hands snaked around his waist, cuttingoff Logan’s imminent tirade as he stiffened. Warmth pressed against his back, achin hooking over his shoulder and Virgil’s long fingers reached up to loosenhis tie, “Bad day, Lo?”

Logan growled between his grit teeth, grabbingVirgil by the wrist and trying to turn his head to the darker man. “No, I’mjust-“

“Migraine?” Roman’s large, strong hands cuppedhis chin, turning his attention up to the towering giant of a man. Logan’s eyesflashed, but Roman kept his gaze soft and fond, carefully and gently working atthe muscles of Logan’s jaw.

“Well, yes, but-!”

“We’ve got you, Lo.” Patton gently ran a handthrough Logan’s hair as he passed, “It’s okay.”

The world was very suddenly so much quieter andwarmer than before.

Virgil hummed softly against his neck, “It’salright.” He whispered, “We know you’re only a little miffed about the dog.” Hepressed a gentle kiss to his neck, just under Logan’s ear, “We’ll talk about itwhen you’re feeling better, okay?”

He wanted to be angry. He wanted so badly tojust…push them away and run to his room. He didn’t deserve this.

“How about we get you off your feet, hm?”Roman asked gently, that adoring look still shining in his vivid green eyes.

He didn’t deserve this.

Tears shone in Logan’s eyes, frustration andguilt pulling at the corners of his mouth and twisting them downward. Virgilsoftly massaged just under Logan’s ribs, reminding him to breathe.

“C’mon,” Roman gently pulled, Virgil pushedand Logan drifted forward, “That’s it, sweetie.”

Before Logan realised, Roman was gentlypulling off his tie and unbuttoning his collar. A tear slipped free, rolling downhis cold cheek and Roman paused to gently swipe it away.

He didn’t deserve them.

“It’s alright.” Roman pressed a soft kiss tohis forehead, “Shhh.” Logan hiccupped, the tiniest of whines escaping him.

“We love you.” Virgil murmured softly from hisshoulder, “So much.”

All the frustration, all the guilt and all thepain finally broke free of Logan then. Under the undeniable truth that he was home and they loved him, he slumped back against Virgil, who was more than readyto catch him.

Tears streaked down his face, hand coveringhis mouth as he tried to muffle his sobs, vaguely aware that Roman was still looseninghis shirt, untucking it and loosening his belt.

“That’s it,” Roman murmured, “Let it out,sweetheart,” The stronger of the two men glanced up at Virgil and nodded, thepair working together to get Logan to lie down, “Let it all out.”

Virgil was quick to prop Logan’s head up in hislap, taking Logan’s glasses and running his fingers through Logan’s hair as hehid his face in Virgil’s stomach and cried.

Roman gently kissed Virgil’s temple, drawing asmile from the darkly dressed man before he ushered the dogs into another roomand went to help Patton in the kitchen. Logan eventually calmed down, Virgil easedhim onto his back and started massaging the tense muscles in his jaw and neck.

Patton returned with an array of tea, hotchocolate and washcloths, some cool and some warm. Roman had detoured to hisroom, returning with Logan’s favoured blanket and pillow.

And eventually, as fatigue rushed over Loganand the pain started to ebb, he whispered a soft apology which was quicklyaccepted. Eventually the dogs were let back in, a movie turned on with thevolume low and they all settled in together to cuddle.

And the tiny dog that had set it all off hadcurled itself in Logan’s lap, breathing slowly and deeply, as Logan drifted off,gently petting it’s back.

The next morning, the tiny dog woke early,blinking around the room and stretching on his new master’s lap. Its ears roseto the sound of an alarm, turning to Logan and putting his front paws on Logan’schest.

He grumbled softly in his sleep, head onVirgil’s shoulder, but the tiny dog yipped quietly, whining as Logan’s eyesslowly drifted open.

The dog yipped again as Logan’s eyes driftedto the blurry black mass, and he gently rested his hand on it’s head as herecognised the alarm going off on his phone.

A small smile spread on Logan’s face, maybe aneighth dog wouldn’t be so bad after all.

The new dog seemed to recognise his sentiment,leaping off his lap and racing to the coffee table as Logan slowly pulled himselffree of the cuddle pile he’d been a part of on the couch the night before. Atiny yip at his feet had Logan crouching and a pair of glasses were droppedinto his hands.

Suit his needs, indeed.

Logan scratched the dog under the chin,slipping his glasses on and smiling at the tiny thing, as it circled and ledhim toward his phone. Seemed as though Virgil had put it there the nightbefore.

When he saw the texts and missed calls, hesighed dejectedly, before he felt a small fluffy body step over his socked feet.

Logan crouched, scooped the dog onto one armand straightened as he dialled his bosses number. He sat as the phone rang,letting the new dog sit on his lap as he stroked the black fur, “Logan? Are youokay?”

He looked down at the new dog, “I actuallymight need today off.” He answered, voice gravelly and cracking. The dog seemedto smile at him, gently licking his fingers a few times, “I’m not feeling well.”

“After yesterday? I’m not surprised.” His bossanswered with a good-natured huff, “You kept most of the damage under control.Let us handle the rest.”

“Thank you. And I’ll be away from my phonetoday.” The tiny dog started wagging his tail in approval.

Patton would have been proud.

“Very well. Get well soon, Logan.”

Logan scooped the dog back into his arms andturned his phone off, before venturing into the kitchen. It’s small, warm bodywas the contact he so desperately craved, and he didn’t seem to mind beingcarried at all.

There was an added bonus it seemed.

He yipped, and Virgil cursed softly behindhim, before snaking his hands around Logan’s waist, “Glad to see you’re feelingbetter.” He whispered.

Virgil reached up and scratched the dog behindthe ear. “Yes, I am. Thanks to you all.”

He felt Virgil’s smile against his back, “Goingto work?”

Logan pulled a mug out of the cabinet forVirgil, “No.” Virgil lifted his head in surprise, “It’s appropriate for me tobond with my new pet, is it not?”

Logan could hear the grin on Virgil’s face, “Yeah.”Virgil squeezed his waist, pressed a kiss to the back of his neck and sighed, “Yeah.”

Tag list: ​ @onehundredphans​@xxfluffypandazxx@irish-newzealand-idian-dutch @ princeyandanxiety @ alyssadashrub @red-the-ruler @a-blog-just-for-sanders@fandoms-n-ship @meginoi @eye-of-terrific

#tyler answers #prompt #fanfic #sanders sides #worhaholic!logan #new dog #logan sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #tylers fic

[talktogyu]

4 Walls // Seventeen - Wonwoo

GENRE: college!au \ angst + fluff

WORD COUNT: 1185

PROMPT: Wonwoo always comes back around.

A/N: A continuation to Q&A

REQUEST: Hi petal!!! I really love all the stuff that you write and i wanted to request something, i hope i'm not bothering you. I was wondering if you could do a svt vernon and wonwoo imagine (if you can't write for the both of them then choose one) when they call you clingy or annoying and you feel really bad and then they apologize, something really long (just if you can, and also kinda angsty but with a fluffy ending), the storyline is up to you. Have a nice day and thank you for taking requests💕

“I can’t just tell her,” he rolled his eyes. “You know she won’t understand.” Wonwoo loved his friend, but at times Sunyoung was quite dense. Despite his stiff reply to her, she continued chattering over the phone. “But you’re so head-over-heels for her. Must I remind you that you actually spent half an hour fixing your hair before your lunch date yesterday.” He sighed, not able to stop his cheeks from flushing; he did indeed spend that long preparing for their past outing. “Plus, you guys have been dating for almost a year now.”

“But still…” Wonwoo whined, but tapered off, checking for his language notebook. Earlier that day, the TA chasticed him for his lack of responsibility when he left it in the lecture hall. “She’s going to break it off when she finds out. Our relationship is going to run thin and it’s going to stress her out if she doesn’t dump me immediately. You know how persistent (Y/N) is, and when she starts suspecting things it gets really annoying.”

You detoured back through the hall, deciding to head to your car instead. You were dissapointed. Not because Wonwoo called you annoying, but because he believed you wouldn’t respect his privacy on whatever secret he was keeping from you.

Wonwoo continued shifting through his backpack, visibly relaxing when he spotted the notebook. He looked up, searching through the mobs of people for a familiar set of eyes. The ones that’d sparkle upon seeing him waiting in front of his class. She’d cling to his frame, waiting for him to steal a chaste kiss before planting another on the top of her nose.

You sighed, identifying your parked car. A long nap would put you at ease. You hated that Wonwoo thought you were so nosy, but you also couldn’t stop your thoughts. What could he be hiding that was so bad, you’d break up with him? Rolling back your shoulders, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Now wasn’t the right time to confront him. You were incredibly tired after pulling an all-nighter and you just-

“Babe?”

The footsteps echoed in the parking structure. A pair of arms took the liberty of wrapping themselves around your waist. He tugged your wrist.

“Did you forget something?”

You witnessed the corners of his lips pick up before he puckered them. The fact that you had to, with difficulty, restrain yourself from yanking him by the collar of his t-shirt and pressing your lips to his, made you only more frustrated with Wonwoo. Mustering up everything you could manage in your zombie-like state, you removed his hands. His expression dropped at your sudden action.

“Wonwoo, please. I’m really stressed right now and I didn’t sleep.” His lips melded into a scowl.

“Look (Y/N), if you’re going to be like this maybe we should just end it here.”

Your eyebrows raised at his harsh tone. What the fuck was wrong with him? First of all, he had called you annoying, even if it wasn’t directed at you. Secondly, upon receiving your cold response to his neediness, he suddenly feels the need to break up?

“I don’t know why you’re like this right now, but I don’t think either of us are in a state to be reasonable. Let’s talk tomorrow, when we’re feeling a little-”

“You don’t get it do you? I put so much on the line for you, but you can’t even give me your fucking time? I’m genuinely over your shit, (Y/N).” He headed back into the campus building.

It was your turn to roll your eyes while starting your car. You really couldn’t care at this point. Boyfriend or not, you just needed sleep.

||||||||||

He trailed his gaze up your legs until they disappeared under the hem of your skirt. He admired each distinct feature of your face, framed by loose locks of hair. But your eyes rolled back. Wonwoo screamed when your dainty figure began coughing up blood. He shot up from his bed before he could see you collapse, laying motionless on the floor.

His blanket stuck to him from all of the sweat, and his breathing wouldn’t slow. It felt too real. He instinctively scrambled for his phone, dialing your number.

||||||||||

Falling asleep at 3pm seemed to be the best decision you’ve made yet. At least it did at 3pm. Now you sat up at midnight, not sure what to do with yourself. Heading to the kitchen for a cup of water, you were frightened when someone began bombarding your door bell. You cringed at the thought of it being some drunk off of the streets, or worse, a murderer. Creeping towards the door, you were relieved when you only saw Wonwoo through the peep hole.

He was shaking. You scoffed at the thought of him getting drunk after the fallout the two of you had yesterday. But the longer you observed, you noticed the flowers that he clutched. He was scared. Scared of losing you? You couldn’t be sure, but it hurt to see him so feeble.

You cracked the door open. He stayed silent. The red that stained his sharp cheekbones was the only evidence that he’d been crying. You took the bouquet from his trembling hands and moved to place it in water. He idled as you filled the vase, gazing around your apartment as if it were his first time seeing it. You exhaled.

“Wonwoo, I-”

“Baby,” he sputtered out. He came closer, surprised when you made no move to leave. Gripping the counter on either side of you, he continued to stare at the tile-floor. “Baby, my foreign language professor is giving me to opportunity to study abroad and he wants to send me to some far away college, but I know you said that you don’t do long distance relationships.”

You placed one hand on his chest and the other on his jaw, barely grazing your lips against his. He moved to grip your waist as he licked at your bottom lip. Sunyoung was right when she said that Wonwoo was totally whipped for you.

“I don’t get it,” he stuttered out with his gravelly voice, pulling back. “Why aren’t you mad?” Wonwoo’s eyebrows knitted together causing you to giggle at your boyfriend, making him more confused than he already was. You bit his lip and tugged, drawing a whine from him. Your fingers met his lips when they tried to follow yours.

“I’ve never wanted a long distance relationship, but I think I’m willing to try.”

“For you.”

He met your gaze for the first time that night and molded his lips onto yours, angling his jaw to deepen the kiss. Your friends and his alike acknowledged the fact that Wonwoo was quite smitten with you. But what they didn’t know is that you were just as hooked. No matter how hard you pushed away, you always ended up falling for Jeon Wonwoo again.

- sungkyun

#talktogyu writing #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #seventeen #seventeen scenarios #seventeen imagines #seventeen smut #kpop #kpop scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo smut #seventeen hoshi #seventeen woozi #seventeen s.coups #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen joshua #seventeen mingyu #seventeen dk #seventeen jun #seventeen the8

[taekookismylifeline]

(yoonseok) - trust my heart when it beats for you

ao3: (x)

Summary: Jung Hoseok has had an awkward Thing for Min Yoongi for four years of his school life. He is certain that the only thing that gets in the way of them and everlasting love is the fact that Min Yoongi doesn't know he exists, but that all changes due to one drunken text message: a pick-up line. Ready to flee to another country under a false identity in mortification, he finds himself ruining their blossoming friendship and confessing when Yoongi asks why Hoseok had tried to flirt with him. However, things take a turn after his confession when Yoongi starts to (awkwardly) flirt back.

Pairings: Yoonseok, Taekook and Namjin

Chapters: (1), (2), (3), (4), (5), (6), (7), (8), (9), (10), (11), (12)

Chapter Thirteen -  look at me like you used to. i miss it. i miss you

Yoongi hadn’t expected a response and he didn’t receive one. Morning dawned bright and early on Monday morning which contrasted heavily with the trepidation churning inside of his stomach. The first thing he did was check his phone as he did every other morning but his routine was dismantled when seeing no messages from Hoseok fill up his notification wall.

He shouldn’t have been so affected, he knew this, but he was. Hoseok had managed to break in and occupy a space in his heart in barely a span of three weeks. He wasn’t sure if he was just easy to break as a person or if he was simply made to be broken by Hoseok. It was just cruel that the only person who could make him feel something more, supply him with a whole new range of emotions, was the one who he had to push away.

Even Jeongguk hadn’t messaged him, but Namjoon had. ‘Hey, how’d it go yesterday?’ He couldn’t bring himself to reply.

He got ready for school and took the bus as usual, blocking out the ruckus of the children in the years below him with his music, music that he and Hoseok had shared a mutual interest in. Yoongi had to shake himself, bringing him away from his thoughts by looking at his phone and finally replying to Namjoon, he was talking about Hoseok as if he were dead which was definitely not the case when he would be seeing Hoseok in first lesson.

Oh crap. A double period alone with Hoseok was the last thing that he needed right now. Due to his sudden state of panic his composed message to Namjoon came out a little more desperate than he had wanted. ‘awful. Can you kill me please so I don’t have to suffer two hours with H?’

He received a reply almost immediately. He climbed down from the bus before opening the message, keeping his head down as he walked into school. ‘whoa, what happened? Did he do something?’

Yeah, Yoongi thought to himself, he made me realise how crappy of a person I am. He didn’t dare type this out, though, for he knew that he would be on the receiving end of a pep talk. He detoured and took a route away from the basketball court as he knew that was where Hoseok met up with his friends at the beginning of school, and more recently at breaks and lunch, too.

‘It wasn’t him, it was me. It’s easier just to forget about all the romantic stuff, it’s too much pressure. I messaged him this and he didn’t reply and I have 2 hours of History with him in the morning.’

Namjoon must have been waiting on the chat for a response because he messaged back straightaway. ‘I’m almost there. Meet you at the bench around the back?’ And so he did, Namjoon approached him a few minutes afterwards. Yoongi didn’t think he had ever felt so much relief; Namjoon was advice and support personified, and that was all he needed right now.

“So, tell me, what’s brought this on?” Namjoon asked once he had sat down. “Last week you were all about this, talking to Hoseok all the time to see if you felt that way about him, and now you meet up and suddenly nothing? What happened?” How could Yoongi have forgotten? Along with support and advice came an intrinsic sense of knowing that Yoongi had something to hide.

Yoongi shrugged, trying to meet Namjoon’s searching eyes. “Nothing, really. It’s just... I don’t know, I don’t really know anything about Hoseok.” That part wasn’t true at all, Hoseok had been more than happy to spill his entire life story to Yoongi. Yoongi now knew all of the spats between Hoseok and Taehyung that Hoseok could recall, and also precious memories of his childhood, like how his mum had purchased an assortment of stuffed toys for him but then found out they would be worth a lot in the years to come so he was banned from touching them. “I figured that even if I date Hoseok, we wouldn’t last; Hoseok will find someone else.”

Namjoon surveyed him before turning away to look at the vast field of grass in front of them. “How do you know that?” He asked softly. “I don’t believe that in the last week you’ve learnt nothing about Hoseok. If that were true then he wouldn’t mean anything to you, but he obviously does seeing as you asked me to kill you so you don’t have to face him.” He cracked a smile, Yoongi stared intently at the ground, hating that Namjoon could see right through him. “So, please, tell me what happened.”

Yoongi exhaled harshly through his nose, so harshly that it made his eyes water. “He kissed me,” he muttered. Namjoon nodded as if he had foresaw this event, which wouldn’t be particularly surprising. “Afterwards I knew that I wouldn’t be enough for him, he’d move on easily, so I told him that we should stick to being friends. It’s simpler that way.”

“Simpler for who?” Namjoon turned on him, making him feel trapped. His chest restricted and it was difficult to draw breath. “I don’t see how this could be easier for you. I know you, Yoongs. You’re in deep and I can tell that Hoseok’s made an impression on you. If you really felt only friendship for him, you wouldn’t have let him kiss you. You’re a good guy, too good to lead someone on which – without giving him the real reason – it looks like you have.”

A surge of self-loathing ran through him, twisting his insides and mangling them together. It was typical of him to do something which he thought to be right only to have it blow up in his face. He had undoubtedly hurt Hoseok with his selfish actions, allowing Hoseok to kiss him and then to rip himself away, lying through his teeth and saying that Hoseok meant nothing to him, nothing more than a friend.

Yoongi valued friendship, of course he did. Friendship was an important part of his life after he had learnt that he couldn’t breeze through life solo, he needed companionship. He was happy to have Hoseok as a friend, blessed even, but he wanted something more. He wanted heated glances, a singular touch or a glimpse of revealed skin to ignite a passion in his veins, he wanted to be looked at like nothing could replace him.

He wanted to be Hoseok’s and he wanted Hoseok to be his.

This revelation should have been startling, but he wasn’t the least bit shocked. This conclusion must have been thrumming under his skin, one with his flesh and blood.

“Oh, I fucked up,” he admitted.

Namjoon chuckled and shook his head. “You did what you thought was right.”

“Yeah, which was wrong.” He ran his hands over his face. “Tell me what to do. How do I fix this?”

“Do you know what you want?” Namjoon asked him in a serious tone.

“Yes.” Hoseok, he added silently. “How do I tell him?” Now time was creeping forwards, he was avidly aware of how close he was to being near Hoseok again. That thought alone was enough to thrust his heart into a frenzy.

“That’s up to you. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to write a script,” Namjoon lightened the mood slightly. “You just need to express yourself clearly. You’re good at writing your thoughts out, but you’re also good at free-styling. You should be fine.” And with those words of wisdom, the school bell rang, initiating the jittering of Yoongi’s nerves.

“Thank you,” he said just as Jeongguk jogged over to them, his school bag rocking dangerously on his shoulder and a grin practically bursting off of his face.

“Guys, guys, I have so much to tell you!”

“You’re gonna have to save it, I’m afraid,” Namjoon stood up and grinned. “You can tell us at break, I’m thinking that Yoongi will have some news for us by then.”

Jeongguk shot him a curious glance but apparently he was too elevated by his own news, most certainly about Taehyung, to inquire as to what Namjoon was talking about.

Registration seemed to drag on but the last few minutes sped by and suddenly Yoongi was signing in for History and had positioned himself in the library in the same seat where Hoseok had invited him out after school. It seemed like much more than a week had passed and he felt like he had aged considerably since then, or perhaps it was because he was devoid of Hoseok’s youthful energy.

Hoseok took a considerably long time to show his face at the library but when he did Yoongi wished that he hadn’t made an appearance at all. A paranoid fear took hold of him, gripping at his lungs causing his breathing to be limited. He kept his eyes glued to the keyboard when he sensed a figure place itself onto the couch. The only thing he expected was to hear the pounding of his rapid heartbeat and the stilted typing of the keys, he did not plan on Hoseok clearing his throat and addressing him.

“So, Yoongi.” Hoseok’s voice did not sound calm at all, if anything it sounded slightly hysterical, with his voice breaking at the end of his speech. Yoongi steeled himself before flicking his eyes over to Hoseok. He was smiling. Painfully. Almost comically. “I just want to tell you that I received your message and it was awfully rude of me not to reply.”

Yoongi felt his eye twitch. ‘Awfully rude’? Was the Hoseok in front of him from another dimension where it was the norm to use speech from the 18th century? “It’s okay, I didn’t expect you to,” he said honestly, hoping that upon hearing him speak Hoseok would drop the terrifyingly wide and unnatural smile that littered his face. “Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that-” Before he even got the chance to pluck the next sentence from his heart and breathe it into the air, Hoseok interrupted him.

“It’s okay, Yoongi. I understand! You said it yourself, you don’t like me like that, and if I weren’t too respect that, I would be an idiot. So, from now on, there’s to be no more flirting, or kissing, or anything like that, okay?” Now Hoseok didn’t look as comical, Yoongi saw through it to find that he looked dejected. Yoongi was sure that his heart had just folded inside out as an agonising fire spread throughout his chest as he saw the turmoil in the darks of Hoseok’s eyes.

“I’ll get used to it, I’ll get over it! So, I wanted to tell you that I’m more than happy to be friends, after all, we have to spend a whole year together!” Hoseok sounded convinced. He sounded fine with the fact that their ambiguous relationship would be labelled as friends and nothing more, even though he had been the one to tell Yoongi that he liked him, told him that he was beautiful. It hurt. He hurt.

Hoseok offered him his hand, Yoongi stared down at it listlessly. Hoseok’s words were still resonating in his ears, scraping against his ear canal.

“You haven’t changed your mind again, have you?” Hoseok laughed, but it was nothing like his usual laugh which was loud and filled with good feeling. This laugh was stale, cold and cruel. Just like the air of the bus stop in which he had ripped himself away from Hoseok. “Friends?”

He blinked away the tears forming in his eyes, blurring his vision. Hoseok’s hands were soft in his, and cold, it was as if he was still standing at the bus stop and Yoongi were in the protective layer of the bus, feeling trapped by his own self-loathing.

“Friends.”

If Hoseok heard the wary defeat of Yoongi’s voice, he didn’t comment on it. Hoseok snatched his hand away once it had felt Yoongi’s warmth.

Yoongi found himself wishing for the cold that Hoseok carried, just to have a part of him.

#yoonseok #yoonseok fanfiction #yoonseok fanfic #yoonseok fic #sope #sope fanfiction #sope fanfic #sope fic #taekook fanfic #taekook fic #namjin fanfic #slow burn #bts angst #bts fanfic

[writingdreamy-blog]

Loss of Yesterday, Looking forward to Tomorrow ch 13

Fandom: The walking Dead

Pairing: Rick/OC

Warning: Some swearing

Note: One of my favorite lines is in this chapter :D

The night continued to draw on, that was until they heard a deafening gun shot. Making both Eva and Carl jump.

"What the hell was that?!" Eva yelled as she shot to her feet, ignoring the fact that Carl heard her curse. "Gimme that" she snatched the binoculars from Carl's hand and put it to her eyes. She pushed Carl behind her, as if that would somehow protect him.

Lori was first up the stairs, she grabbed Carl, "Is everything alright?" she asked, scared.

Eva shook her head, "I don't know…."

She handed the binoculars to Lori, "look for yourself" Lori did what she did, and saw exactly what she saw… nothing. That was when Eva noticed that Carl had ran out of the room. She saw him running across the field. Lori had yet to notice.

"Wait!" Eva yelled, Lori then noticed Carl running, "My baby!" she cried as she dashed down the stairs.

Lori and Eva were caught up by Hershel who held the women at arm's length. "What happened?" he asked.

"Carl slipped out! He's outside!" Hershel frowned as he readied his gun. They all understood the urgency. Eva held Lori back also, "Stay in here, I'll go get him."

She slipped on her jacket and good shoes. Flying down the stairs she briefly saw Glenn and Daryl around the corner. All that was left out there was Rick, Shane and Carl.

Eva came face to face with Carl and Rick, they were walking back towards the house. Nonchalantly talking.

"Oh thank God, we heard the guns!" she sighed. Rick sighed, knowing that Carl who had found them, was in for some trouble.

"Lori is scared out of her wits! We saw Carl running towards the gunshot!"

Rick sighed as he turned towards Carl, which was when his eye caught the herd coming towards the three.

His jaw dropped as he grabbed his boy close and grabbed Eva’s arm. "Oh my God! Go, go, go!" he ushered the two to run towards the barn.

"We have to get to the house!" Carl urged, "Tell the others!"

Rick crouched low and whispered, "We'll never get through that way!"

"I can!" Eva replied.

Rick shook his head, "No, stay with us." Rick grabbed Carl's shoulder, "You two, stay close. Go!" he rushed them towards the barn. They secured the door. The sound of the walkers converging on the door and the wood groaning under their weight made Eva panic, she couldn’t see a way out and flashbacks of when she had the gun to her head when she was at the school kept flitting threw her mind.

"We're surrounded!" She cried out in anguish. Her eyes spotted the dried patch where her best friend had died. Eva began to hyperventilate.

Rick grabbed her arm this time, "Calm down! We're not going to die today!" He helped a little as she tried to ground herself.

They could see the walkers face through the slots in the barn, they were already trying to tear it down. Rick looked around, trying to find a way out of the mess they were in. He saw jugs of gasoline. "We're going to burn the barn down. That will attract the walkers, and we can get out safely. Quick! Grab a jug and pour it on the hay" he instructed.

Carl helped his dad, while Eva hesitated. "C'mon Eva!" Carl urged. It was too late.

"Oh Shit, ok. Up there! Hurry!" Rick urged Eva and Carl up into the rafters.

"What about you?" Carl asked, facing his father. Panic creeping into Carl also.

"I'll be right there." Rick tried to sooth Carl, he then handed him a lighter, "Drop the lighter when I say. We'll stop some of them from reaching the house. It will distract the others, this will give us a chance to make it back."

Rick got to his son's eye level, "You can do this" he encouraged his son. "Carl, I love you."

Eva, who was already in the rafters choked up, Rick was telling Carl this…. Because there was a chance they wouldn't make it out alive. " All right, go, go, go" He urged his son up.

Eva grabbed Carl once he got up, she wrapped her arms around him. They watched as Rick hit the doors, drawing more attention to him. The most heart pounding part was when he flung the doors open. Before him was at least thirty walkers. He was riling them up as he shuffled backwards toward the ladder. He hurriedly climbed the flimsy ladder. Once he got up he instructed Carl to throw the lighter.

Everything was engulfed in flames, the heat rising quickly. They were trapped. They could hear the cars outside. Maybe they would get out of this alive. Eva shuffled towards the barn window. "Okay, we might be able to jump if they keep them distracted enough."

Eva saw that the RV was coming towards them. They may be able to jump onto it safely. Rick waved Jimmy over, "Hey! Over here!" Jimmy parked as close as he could. Rick hopped onto the conjoined roof that kept the hay dry and some tools at the ready. He offered his hand to Carl who took it easily. Eva shook in her boots. There was a considerable jump to make, especially when you're scared witless, that she wasn't quite sure she could make. Her vision was blurring. She grabbed the wooden pillar for support.

"Eva! You have to jump!" Rick screamed. Eva shook her head, afraid. "Eva! Damnit! Do it now!"

Eva shook her head again, she could feel the heat of the flames licking her back. Rick inched forward and grabbed her arm, forcing her to jump. His hand not letting go he jumped onto the RV with Eva second and Carl third.

Eva could heard Jimmy's shouts of pain, she knew he had been bit, and most likely being eaten alive. Her stomach dropped. She couldn't save him, what would Beth think? Rick was first down the back ladder, he kicked a walker away from them.

He shot the one that fell, and another one that was coming towards them. Eva urged Carl down before she came down. The walkers that were caught on the fence reached for them. One caught her sleeve. Rick yanked her to his side. "Pay attention!"

Eva gulped in air as she nodded. Rick covered them as they ran. Eva took a quick detour to grab a tool. The pitchfork felt like a much needed shield in her arms, any weapon would have to suffice, but a pitchfork was preferable the best option.

Rick was not happy that she had left his side, "Damnit Eva, don't leave my side!"

Eva showed him her pitchfork, "I can defend us better now."

Eva could hear the shotgun as Glenn took out some walkers close to them. Eva ran behind Rick and Carl, trying to keep them safe. Eva hit a walker dead in the face, she kicked the corpse away from the three.

Rick took note that Eva was actively attempting to keep them alive, with her behind him and Carl sandwiched between them, Carl was probably the safest he will ever be.

Eva could see in the distance that the group was getting off the porch, they were going to make it to safety, which included Mom. Her heart warmed, even if she didn't survive her mother would. That put a spring in her step and an extra incentive to survive. Two walkers approached from the side, they were targeting Rick and Eva. The two adults took the walkers out quickly.

Rick was running towards the cars, they could possibly make it. They just needed to make it to the cars. "C'mon! We have to make it!" he ordered. He could see the blue pick-up truck lurching off the dirt and away from the farm. He could only hope that Lori was in one. There were only a few cars left.

The van was swamped with walkers, which left only about two or three cars left. The deafening sound of the shot gun told the three that Hershel was still on the farm, still defending the farm. They had to save him too!

"Rick! There's Hershel! We have to save him!" Eva pointed to Hershel, a walker was coming upon him without him noticing. The three ran to his aid. Rick shot the walker point blank. "Where's Lori? Did you see Lori?" Rick asked as he came closer to Hershel.

"And Mom! Did she escape in the truck?" Eva asked, holding Hershel's other shoulder.

"I don't know what happened, Rick. They just keep coming. It's like a plague, they're everywhere." Hershel looked to Rick. That foreboding feeling sunk inside Eva's gut.

"LORI! Did you see her?!" Rick growled, his patience was already thin, between keeping two incompetent people alive, and not knowing where his wife was, you couldn't fault him for having his temper flare now.

"No!" Hershel replied again, his face fell at the sight of his home being engulfed in flames and the undead.

"We have to go now!" Rick said, realizing that he might have lost his wife not once but twice now. "We have to find Mom and the others."

He shot a walker coming too close to them, "It's my farm!" Hershel feebly protested.

"Not anymore!" Rick sighed, He began to pull Hershel, Eva and Carl ran behind Rick, "C'mon! C'mon!"

They came to the old four door truck, Hershel was still attacking walkers, they didn't have the time! Eva already jumped into the back behind the driver's side.

"C'mon!" Hershel goaded them on, he attacked the one that advanced with the butt of his shotgun.

"HERSHEL!" Rick yelled, he wanted to leave now.

Hershel jumped into the front passenger side, Eva held Carl as they drove off. She could feel the boy sobbing into her side. She wanted to cry too, she could feel her throat closing up and her eyes watering. It was terribly hard to choke down the despair and tears.

Rick raced down the drive and onto the main highway. He didn't care for potholes nor any other bump in the road, once they got a reasonable way from the farm Rick slowed down and surveyed the emotion damage that was inside the truck. By now Carl's tears had dried up as he looked aimlessly forward. Eva's arm was around his shoulder. Eva in turn was staring out into the inky blackness, only illuminated by the moon. He could see the silver tracks of tears streaking down her face. Hershel was trying to get whatever last look of his farm, even if they were long gone.

The mood was dismal, two of the four inhabitants had everything they had ever held dear go up in flame and death. Their only hope was that their group survived.

"Where… Where do you think the rest of them met up?" Eva asked after a while, her voice cracked.

Rick shook his head, "I might have an idea."

He circled back to the highway, back towards home. This is where they lost Sophia the provisions they left still sat on the hood of a car. Carl and Rick exited the truck. Eva didn't want to step foot into a place that was not safe. Hershel left the car also, leaving Eva to herself in the car. She watched the men talk, she watched Rick comfort Carl the best way he knew how and for a moment Eva wished Mom was with them, to do the same. She wrapped her bare arms around her torso, feeling cold and vulnerable.

She hoped Mom was safe with the other people, she could really use a hug at this moment. She watched Carl walk away and away from the visual protection of Rick and Hershel. She jumped into action, trying to quell the rising depression that was threatening to swallow her. "Carl! Wait!" she followed him. He went to look at other cars, to get provisions.

They walked a few cars back. "Leave me alone!" Carl hissed over his shoulder, "I can do this myself."

Eva stuck pretty close to him, "I know, but I can use a friend right now. That was my home too you know."

Carl paused for a moment but didn't look at Eva. "Sorry."

They opened a door, Eva popped the trunk while Carl looted through the glove compartment. Inside the trunk was a blanket and a couple bottles of water. "Hey Carl, I found some water. Let's bring it back to the truck. I'm sure we'll need this."

Rick accompanied them a few minutes later, the wordlessly worked through a few cars, not enough to get a good sweep but enough to take a few necessary items. Soon they heard the telltale sounds of the groans of a walker, maybe even two. Rick wordlessly instructed Eva and Carl to hide. He prepared his gun, they were forced to just hide. They didn't want to attract the herd that may just be a mile or so away.

"I don't know how much longer we can stay here" Hershel whispered.

"I'm not leaving without Mom" Carl said as he turned to his dad, to get some sort of confirmation.

"So, we're just gonna walk away?" Rick asked, trying to make Hershel understand they needed to stay. "Not knowing if my wife, your girls are still out there?" Rick gestured to both of them. "How could we possibly live with that?"

"You've got only one concern now- Just one… keeping him alive." Hershel said softly. "Nature may be throwing us a curveball, but that law is still true." Rick seemed to ponder this a moment. They were both right. Hershel looked to Eva beside him, "Beside, we can survive on our own as we wait for our own."

Eva looked flabbergasted, she didn't want to separate from Rick but neither did she want to completely forget about her mother.

In the end, concern for Carl won out, Rick sunk to his knees before Carl. "Carl." He pleaded, "It's not safe here. I'm sorry."

Carl looked angry, which quickly broke down into tears.

"We'll--"

Eva shushed Rick, "Wait! I can hear something" the group of four stopped. They could hear the rumble of a motorcycle in the distance. They all looked to their left, surprise and relief flooded their face. Daryl and Carol idled up to them.

Followed by the blue-grey Hyundai covered in blood and guts. Behind that, the old beat up blue pickup truck. Hershel looked overjoyed, almost at a loss for words. Eva quickly looked around for her own familiar face. The happy reunion felt like a miracle. Rick shook Daryl's hand. Maggie from out of nowhere ran up to her father and hugged him fiercely.

Carl ran up to Lori as she ran to him. She scooped the boy into her arms and showered him with kisses Rick followed suit and hugged his family. Eva's eyes swept the group, waiting for Mom to pop out of any of the cars.

While everybody was overjoyed around them, Eva began to visibly deflate, was mom hurt in the back? Why wasn't she coming out to greet her?

"Where'd you find everyone?" Rick asked as he stood, he took a head count of who was here. Nine people in total, they were missing a few people. His eyes fell onto Eva who once again looked like she was holding back tears. Her mother didn't make it. It was dawning on her that Eva was now an orphan. he was partially listening to what Daryl was saying.

"well, those guys tail lights zigzagging all over the road, figured it has to be Asian, driving like that" Daryl remarked with a wiry grin.

"Good one" Glenn sarcastically replied. Despite the sarcasm, Rick could tell he was happy.

"Where's the rest of us?" Daryl asked, by now Daryl realized that their group shrunk considerable, especially now that no cars were following.

"We're the only ones who made it so far," Rick replied.

"Shane?" Lori asked, as she stood. It drove a knife through Rick's heart when she uttered his name; the wound still fresh. Rick shook his head to his wife.

"Mom?" Eva whispered. Lori looked to Eva, Beth and T-Dawg shook their heads.

"She was pulled from my grasp" Beth whispered as she was cradled in Hershel's arms.

"We couldn't save her" Lori added. Eva sighed, her head hung low, she shuffled back towards the car, telling them she needed some time to herself.

The group watched in sadness as Eva jumped into the car they had arrived in. They could hear the barely restrained screams coming from inside. Beth wanted to go comfort Eva but Hershel kept a grip on his youngest child, now was not the time. Every person had their own way of greving.

The rest of the group asked about those who they had lost, Andrea, Jimmy, and Shane. None of that mattered to Eva who was in the pit of despair. Eva pulled the blanket up to her chin. Her chest tightened. The group decided to continue heading south. Eva barely registered that Rick, Lori and Carl had entered the truck, she closed her eyes, trying to block out the world. Her thoughts were in chaos.

Lori turned to Eva, she knew the girl wasn't asleep. "I know you may not want to hear this Eva. But, your mother's death, it saved all of us. We were able to get away from there because of her."

Eva's dull eyes looked to Lori's brown ones, "Thanks. But if you don't mind. I'd rather not talk about it." She turned away, "I'd rather she not have died for others."

The group continued to drive till dark and their fuel tanks on empty. The needed a place to lie low for the night. They found an old broken home, the bricks held off the cold for a small bit. They all crowded around the small fire. It was an awkward time. Rick had informed the group they were all infected. Everybody who dies will come back as a walker, nobody was safe.

Everybody was tense that night, it was doubtful that anybody would sleep. Every sound startled Beth, every crunch made Carl jump. The supposable peaceful sound of the waterfall didn't put anybody at ease.

Eva could hear Carol mumbling to Daryl, telling him that they were not safe with Rick around. Eva sighed, she didn't like Carol, she viewed her as a weak woman, but was she any different?

Daryl brushed Carol off, telling her that he was okay with Rick. Carol was trying to turn Daryl against Rick by calling him a henchman.

Daryl of course saw right through this, asking Carol point black about what she wanted. She wanted a man of honor, Rick of course had that. Carol just didn't see it.

Hearing that, Maggie began to talk with Glenn, "I think we should take our chances."

Hershel reprimanded Maggie, "Don't be foolish. There is no food, no fuel, no ammo."

The trees cracked. Eva sat up straight, the possibly drowsiness left her.

"What was that?" Beth asked.

"Could be anything." Daryl replied, he stood up and readied his bow. "It could be a raccoon, possum."

"A walker?" Glenn asked. Rick appeared from the other side, also intrigued by the sound.

Carol began to panic, "We need to leave. What are we waiting for?" she asked.

They tried to pinpoint the noise. Rick looked to his group, "The last thing we need is for everybody to be running off in the dark." He shifted his stance, "We don't have the vehicles and no one's traveling on foot."

Another twig snapped.

"Don't panic" Hershel said to Beth as he squeezed her arm.

"I'm not" Maggie defended, "I'm not sitting here, waiting for another herd to blow through here. We need to move" Maggie urged.

Rick turned to his group, "No one is going anywhere" he left no room for argument. Everybody looked at Rick incredulously, didn't he see the danger?

"Do something." Carol challenged.

"I am doing something!" Rick shot back, "I'm keeping this group together. Alive." he pointed to Carol which was also dangerously holding the gun. "I've been doing that all along. No matter what." He turned towards the group, Eva could tell he was angry, "I didn't ask for this. I killed my best friend for you people! For Christ's sake!" He yelled, even if it was in a hushed tone.

Carl looked at his father, his jaw nearly to the ground. He didn't know. Lori held Carl in her arms, if not a little tighter than before. Nobody knew how to react, they didn't know that Rick had killed Shane.

Rick could read the group easily, "You saw what he was like, how he pushed me, how he compromised us, how he threatened us."

Eva stood, the cold night penetrated the blanket she was holding. She was going to say something in Shane's defense, but found nothing.

Rick continued, "He staged the whole Randall thing, led me out to put a bullet in my brain. He gave me no choice!" Eva gasped, she didn't want to hear more, and she reckoned that nobody really wanted to hear more, "He was my friend, but he came after me." At this point Carl was sobbing into his mother's shoulder, she rocked Carl to try and calm him. "My hands are clean." Rick defended.

"Maybe you people are better off without me." Rick concluded, "Go ahead." He gestured to the woods, "I say there's a place for us, but maybe—maybe that's just another pipe dream. Maybe I'm just fooling myself again, why don't you go and find out for yourself?" he asked, looking towards the woods. Partly for effect, partly it gave him a second to scan the perimeter. "Send me a postcard!"

He urged the naysayers to leave, "Go on, there's the door." Nobody moved, they were stuck in stunned silence, "You can do better? Let's see how far you get." Rick looked to Carol, knowing that she was talking behind his back. She looked scared, and stunned. "No takers? Fine. But get this one straight, you're staying, this isn't a democracy anymore." He shook his head, his speech was done. People looked to one another for support. Nobody moved. Rick walked away. They were all staying.

The night drug on, the cold settled into everybody. Eva sat by the fire. Her eyes may have been focusing on the fire but her mind was miles away. The fire began to die, Eva's mind was made up.

She needed to leave. She noticed that most people were asleep. Daryl was on watch. Eva stood and stretched her body. Bones popped and her muscles screamed. She walked toward Daryl. He eyed her suspiciously, she wasn't on watch.

"Hey, Daryl."

"Hey" was his curt reply. They both knew what was going to happen. "You leaving?" he asked.

Eva nodded, "Yeah. I need to go back, get some closure."

Daryl shifted his stance, "its suicide. Besides, your last attempt at closure nearly got you killed."

Eva shrugged, "Yeah. If you see me as a walker, please burry me by the biggest tree."

Daryl nodded, "We'll see you around." Daryl refused to acknowledge that she might die. She took her pitchfork from the bed of the tuck. She took one look back at her family, her group. She could stay and never have closure, she could remain with them. But she couldn't. She turned back the way they had all came. She began to run. Needing to get as far away as possible before sunrise.

Once the sun arose, Rick was first to wake. He did a head count and noticed that they were down a number. His shoulders tensed, one person was gone and he knew who it was. He clenched his jaw, angry that she had left. He didn't think that she would leave, he would have bet that Carol would leave; but not Eva.

#the walking dead #Rick/OC #Rick Grimes #One of my favorite lines #ricktatorship