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wherethewordsare · 3 years

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I’ll Stay with You

Hey everyone, a little up front, this is a major character death fic and nearly 4k long. Be advised. Content warnings include: Bloody and Injury, Fatal Injury, Major Character Death, and Implied misuse of potions. Please be advised before reading! Thank you!

There had been no warning. Only the sound of a sword being drawn above him woke Jaskier from an already fitful sleep. He just managed to roll out of the way, Geralt’s name already on his lips.

A firm arm wrapped around his shoulders, pulling him down to the ground as a volley of arrows whizzed overhead, close enough to ruffle his hair. His heart hammered as they stood, each taking defensive positions.

It hadn’t been the first platoon Nilfgaard had sent for his witcher and it wouldn’t be the last, but Jaskier would die on his feet before he let anything happen to Geralt. His own short sword connected with flesh and he yanked it back again before swinging for the next soldier. His form had gotten better and he had learned to fight, not just slash and hack under Geralt’s tutelage.

He wasn’t a witcher though. He wasn’t able to hear the notch of a bow and the release of an arrow as it flew through the throng and buried itself into his thigh.

Jaskier cried out but kept his feet. He still fought though he was growing faint and the hot wetness that was soaking the outside of his trousers was too much too fast. They needed to get away.

“Geralt!” He yelled and the witcher was there, his arm wrapped tightly around Jaskier’s middle, pulling him close.

“Hold on,” Geralt breathed against his shoulder. Magic vibrated in the air around them as Geralt let loose an aard, sending soldiers flying back from them and then another wave of magic as Jaskier broke the talisman around his neck.

A one way portal dropped them into another clearing miles north of where they had been. Jaskier fell to the ground, gasping as his fingers fumbled for the arrow that was still buried in his leg.

“Geralt, fuck, help.” He shook as he looked down. There was far too much blood. Even Geralt seemed to go pale as he looked down at the damage. Most of their packs were back where they had been ambushed. The only thing left to them was what Geralt had grabbed, Jaskier’s own pack with only his notebook, a spare shirt, and a salve for minor cuts.

“Hold on, Jaskier, hold on.” Geralt moved quickly, making quick work of the spare shirt, tearing it into strips and tying above the wound. “Here, take my hand,” he whispered, his voice gentle, his eyes wide with fear.

“Geralt- Geralt, dear heart. Listen…” Jaskier swallows and takes Geralt’s hands, lacing their fingers and squeezing as tightly as he can. “If I don’t make it, if you have to go on-”

Before he could finish his thought, Geralt pulled the arrow from his leg in one smooth motion. Jaskier screamed through clenched teeth, his body shaking from it. Geralt was quick to bandage him up, all the while murmuring softly to Jaskier.

“There’s an oversized bed with your name on it at the keep, you just have to stay with me,” Geralt said, his eyes never leaving the wound.

Jaskier took back Geralt’s hand after it was done with the bandages and squeezed it again, this time barely having the strength to press down into that firm palm.

“Always, dear heart, always going to stay with you.” He licked his lips and gave a wet laugh. It was now or never or he was going to go to his very early grave regretting it.

“I know where we are. This is the tail end of the path into the Blue Mountains. We’re so close I can smell Eskel’s goats.” Geralt was worried. He only talked like this with sick children and shriveled old women he couldn’t save.

Jaskier only swallowed and nodded. They set camp that night and in the morning began the long and painful trek into the mountains.

Three days. They had been on the move for three days. Every hour, Jaskier could feel his strength leaving him and every hour he tried to make Geralt face him, to hear the words he needed to say before…

Jaskier sat against a cave wall, shivering as sweat soaked through his shirt. His leg had been itching like mad since he had woken up and he feared that there had been more to that arrow than just steel. He wondered if Geralt had smelled it on him, if that was what was causing the Witcher to climb as quickly as they could into the mountains, to where there might be safety.

He looked across the small fire where Geralt cooked two winter-thin hares. He looked haggard with the closest thing Jaskier had ever seen to true fear on his witcher.

“Geralt?” He croaked, his voice cracking.

“Hmm?” Geralt didn’t even look up, seeming to instead find anything else to look at than Jaskier’s fading body.

Jaskier gave a sad smile and weakly patted the bedroll next to him. “It’s going to be cold tonight. Why don’t we have those for breakfast and you come get some sleep?”

Geralt looked up at him then, his face drawn into something he couldn’t interpret but took the rabbits off the flames and nodded.

He crossed the small space and slipped in next to Jaskier, pulling him gently down until they were tucked in the bedroll, his arms winding around the bard with barely a word. He felt rigid and unsure under Jaskier’s hands as he shifted, careful of the wounded leg.

Jaskier pressed in close to Geralt’s chest and timed his breathing to the sound of the witcher’s heartbeat under his ear. Geralt, for his part, wrapped his arms around Jaskier and held him close, burying his nose into his hair. He thought with a faint chuckle that he must have reeked but Geralt didn’t seem to mind, only pressing in closer.

Sleep came for Jaskier sooner than he thought it would. He did not dream, nor did he really notice the pain. All he could feel as he drifted off were warm, though chapped, lips pressing to his forehead and words he couldn’t quite catch.

They sounded like “Stay with me”.

When morning came, Jaskier couldn’t explain what he was doing standing near the entrance of the cave, looking in where Geralt was still huddled with his back to him. His head felt foggy like he couldn’t quite remember what it was he was doing.

“Jaskier?” Geralt called suddenly, “Jaskier!”

“I’m right here,” Jaskier took a step towards Geralt and found that his legs felt sound under him.

“Jaskier…” Geralt sat up, leaning over something in front of him, his shoulders shaking. “No, no no, you fucking idiot, no. Not like this, Jask, please.” There was panic in Geralt’s voice and he was on his knees leaning down.

Jaskier stood frozen behind him as he watched over Geralt’s shoulder, where he, Jaskier, lay, pale and blue-lipped.

Geralt leaned down, trying to breathe life into his body, Jaskier's name a chant on his lips between every curse and promise he could make. Jaskier touched his own lips as they seemed to tingle for a moment but then the feeling was gone.

Geralt only pressed against his chest a few times but seemed to quickly give up before gathering Jaskier into his arms, his nose pressing back into his hair.

“Jaskier, no. I’m sorry, I’m so… I…” There was a choking sound echoing in the cave and Jaskier realized it was broken sobs as Geralt only held his lifeless body closer.

“Geralt, dear heart, I’m still- You don’t have to be sorry, Geralt. You’re safe, that’s all I could ask for.” Jaskier came around the other side and dropped to his knees, his hands reaching out for Geralt as he sat there, rocking back and forth on the frozen stone floor. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. We weren’t supposed to end like this.” He wanted to scream.

“You were supposed to stay, Jask. You were supposed to stay with me.”

“Always,” Jaskier promised, “I’m always going to be here. I’m not going anywhere, Geralt. I love you, I’ll stay.”

Geralt laid his body down gently, bringing the bedroll they shared over Jaskier’s face. “I’m sorry I failed you. I’m sorry I got you killed.” He looked away, swallowing, tears streaking down his face as his eyes slid right over where Jaskier’s ghost knelt in front of him. “I love you. I’m sorry I never told you.”

Jaskier was sure if he still had a heartbeat, it would have skipped right before he shattered into a million pieces. There was nothing left for him to do but to keep his promise. He followed Geralt from that cave, watching as Geralt cast an aard that closed the entrance, burying Jaskier inside, his face completely void of any emotion as he did so.

The rest of the journey to Kaer Morhen was quiet, Geralt barely stopping to eat or sleep until he had finally reached the keep. Jaskier trailed behind him in the halls, catching the looks that Geralt missed from his brothers, from Vesemir, from Yennefer when she showed up with Ciri not three days later.

He followed his witcher into his rooms and watched as he drank himself into a stupor that still couldn’t bring him sleep.

“You don’t have to do this to yourself, Geralt. I’d die for you a thousand times if it kept you safe,” Jaskier whispered. He couldn’t brush back the silver hairs that fell into Geralt’s face as he slumped over his writing desk.

He looked down at the book that was open and recognized it as his journal. He was sure he’d blush if he could. It was a page towards the back that Geralt had opened to, where Jaskier had done a rough sketch of Geralt grooming Roach. It hadn’t been his best work, but he kept it with him anyways.

“Oh, you were never meant to see that,” he winced, sliding up onto the desk beside Geralt’s outstretched arm. He reached down as if to grab his hand and sighed when his fingers only managed to slide through it without so much as a twitch.

“Should have protected you, should have saved you. Always losing you,” Geralt slurred, his eyes closed. “Always losing the ones I should have protected.”

“Oh, dear heart,” Jaskier leaned his elbow onto his knee, wiping a hand over his face. He wondered how long he would be like this, not that he was complaining. He had promised. He was still going to follow his witcher.

The years slipped past them, Geralt witchering, Jaskier following. The only difference seemed to be that Geralt had finally found it in himself to start talking to Jaskier, only when Jaskier couldn’t respond.

That first season out, Geralt found a contract on a notice board.

“Looks like a cockatrice, Jask,” he murmured quietly, reading over the paper. “They’ll swindle me for sure, always with fucking cocatrices.” He gave a small smile looking up. “You know, the only time they didn’t was when you’d come flying at the alderman like a cockatrice yourself, all color and spit and barbs.”

“You always stopped me though.” Jaskier leaned against the board, his head resting on the worn wood as he watched Geralt fondly. “I worry you’ll never see a proper payment again unless you find another bard.” The idea twisted something where his chest used to be. Geralt travelling with anyone else always seemed to do that, even before his untimely demise. “But at least now I can follow you into battles without you having to worry about me getting hurt, eh?”

Jaskier followed Geralt like he always had, trailing behind him as he met with the alderman, to his room at the inn, watching as he checked over his potions.

“Come back in one piece.” Jaskier winced at the old habit that hadn’t seemed to die with him.

“Stay out of trouble while I’m-” Geralt turned and frowned at the empty room. “Right then.” He only growled and slung his swords over his back before stalking back out of the room.

They had stopped on the edge of a ravine and Geralt looked down the craggy face, scowling. He downed his potions without a second thought and began the climb down.

And then-

Jaskier was suddenly back in the room at the inn, Geralt with his back to him, grunting as he curled in on himself.

“What the fuck just happened?” Jaskier asked. He came around the other side of Geralt. There was a nasty cut along his arm but it wasn’t anything Geralt couldn’t handle, he knew.

“Bollocks! Really!? Finally, a way to follow you into battle and, what? I can’t? Why?” Jaskier threw his arms in the air in frustration.

Geralt made a low sound, the needle shaking in his hand as he stitched his arm. His eyes kept flicking up to his potions, lined across the low table. Jaskier looked him over, watching the last of the toxicity fade from his veins.

“You know, I keep asking why am I here, but I’m starting to wonder.” Jaskier tried to run his hands through the muck that still clung to Geralt’s hair, sighing as his fingers simply faded through him. “Am I here because you’ve chosen to let me haunt you?” He clucked his tongue. “Foolish witcher, let me go. You don’t need to punish yourself.”

“Hmm.” Geralt stood, crossing to the basin to wash away the remaining blood on his arm and hands.

Jaskier climbed into the bed and waited for Geralt to take his usual position beside him. He sang quietly as his witcher drifted off into his usual restless sleep, Jaskier’s name never far from his lips.

And so it went for several seasons, Geralt fighting battles Jaskier could not witness, only able to linger beside him when the nights grew quiet and Geralt would try to drown himself in women and liquor and the desperate pace of travel.

After one fight, Jaskier returned to find Geralt hunched over his potions, muttering to himself as he pulled one from the bag with surprisingly shaky hands.

“What are you doing? Did you not kill the beast?” Jaskier was kneeling in front of him, unable to reach out, unable to be heard. He looked between the bottle and Geralt’s face and frowned.

“I see,” he whispered softly.

It had been a long time at this point and Jaskier was realizing that the only time he was not with Geralt was when Geralt didn’t think of him, so far only when he gave himself over completely to his witcher senses and instinct.

“Does thinking of me hurt you so deeply, Geralt?” If he were able to cry he would. Instead all he could do was look on as Geralt slowly uncorked the bottle. “I do not blame you for wanting to outrun your ghosts, but please. Not like this.”

Geralt brought the bottle to his lips and for a moment it felt like his eyes had flicked to Jaskier’s, wide and wounded. He pulled the bottle away, corking it and shoving it back into his bag.

“You’d think me a coward, I know.” Geralt pulled out his flask instead, taking a hard pull of the White Gull he kept with him constantly now.

“Still the bravest man I know.” Jaskier smiled sadly.

As years went on, Jaskier noticed he was starting to lose time. Slowly there would be a day missing where he started with Geralt in one place and ended up somewhere else completely. Usually when he would appear again, Geralt was already settling into a room or brushing down Roach, idle things that let the witcher’s thoughts wander.

“Would you have written new songs by now? You’d be what, sixty?” Geralt hummed. “You’d hate old age, vain as you are- were.”

“Oh, back to this are we? Haven’t been insulted in a while. Though kind of you to say sixty. I think we’re coming up on eighty easily, dear heart.” Jaskier murmured fondly, leaning against the stall to watch Geralt work.

The time between these moments was clearly growing. Every time he saw Geralt he looked more worn, more weary. New scars were cropping up between his visits. He especially hated when he came back to find Geralt sewing himself back together after a particularly bad fight or when he was being chased out of various towns.

It felt like that was when he thought of Jaskier the most, when there was no one there to defend him. No one to care for him. He showed in the moments Geralt felt most alone in the spaces Jaskier used to fill. His gaunt face still holding the same disappointed scowl it always did when villages turned on him. Jaskier knew it made Geralt feel like a monster. It filled him with a rage so powerful, it nearly vibrated the medallion on Geralt’s chest.

“You’re not, Geralt. I know you’re not! I wish you listened to me then or could hear me now.” Jaskier pleaded, pacing in front of the witcher, his arms thrown wide. “You’re still a hero.” He would have wet his lip the way he used to if he could feel it. “Still my hero, witcher.”

“Maybe they’re right. I just bring death wherever I go.” Geralt murmured as he set up camp.

Jaskier felt himself slowly fade, flickering as Geralt knelt for meditation, every breath blurring his vision until the void took him again.

It was dawn or maybe dusk, but all Jaskier knew was that it had been a long time since Geralt last thought of him. There were too many scars along his wiry arms where his sleeves were pushed up, his feet dangling into the water of a stream. He sat on the edge of a rock, his head in his hands.

Jaskier went to say something and found that he couldn’t, his mouth opening and closing but no sound came forward.

“A hundred years,” Geralt swallowed. “A hundred years and I’ve forgotten the sound of your voice.” He sounded wounded, his voice cracking with sorrow and age. “I’d give every single one of them back if I could just… remember.” He pressed his palms over his eyes and shook. “The world keeps changing, and you’re still gone and I’m still here.”

Jaskier dropped to his knees beside Geralt, his hands reaching out to touch the man that would not let him go.

It was his hands that caught his attention. They were barely shadows at the ends of his arms. Jaskier looked down in silent panic as he realized he was fading. Geralt was forgetting him. A mixture of relief and agony tore through him. All he wanted to do was scream but all he could do was sit there in silent horror as he watched Geralt fall to pieces.

Rest, witcher. He thought, swallowing down the silent tears he was no longer able to shed. Rest, my love, your path is almost at its end. Do you know all the good you’ve done?

Geralt took a steadying breath, looking up and out over the river, his once brilliant yellow eyes dulling around the pupils.

I’ll stay, Geralt. I promise. As long as you’ll have me, I’m going to stay. Jaskier silently promised. He leaned forward as though to press his forehead to Geralt’s shoulder. He could have sobbed when the world tilted and he simply passed through him, unable to even comfort him from the other side.

Beside him Geralt took another breath before pulling his feet from the stream. He turned and gathered his swords and once more, there was nothing.

Time had lost meaning. There had only been brief fleeting moments where Geralt seemed to remember his bard, unable to perceive the ghost that followed him still. Jaskier’s own memory was starting to grow fuzzy. Why was he here? Why did he want to protect this man sitting alone by the fire? Where was his voice?

He remembered having a lute and a book of songs and an amazing adventure filled with heroics and heartbreak, with destiny and death. He could remember the taste of wine and the smell of sea salt and the feel of a calloused hand cupping his cheek as he laid in a cave decades upon decades ago.

Jaskier stood in the door of a dusty stone room, the window overlooking a mountain range he could not name.

“Toss a coin to your witcher,” came a voice, cracked and ancient and so very very tired.

Jaskier followed the voice to a pile of deteriorating furs. He knew that face, scarred and weathered as it was. He knew that song. Something in him flared as he reached out with almost solid fingers.

“Geralt?” He whispered.

The pile rose with a shaky breath and then the man, the witcher, his witcher, drew no more breath.

“Oh dear heart, you took so long.” Jaskier chuckled sadly. “I’m so glad you thought of me. I’d never be able to live with myself if you died alone.”

“Can’t live with yourself anyways,” came a rumbling voice from behind him.

Jaskier whipped around and gasped. Geralt stood only a few strides away. His body whole again, the scars faded to fine silver lines, like threads of moonlight caught under his skin. Around him was a warm glow and it called Jaskier home like a beacon.

“Geralt!” Jaskier stood frozen on the spot.

“You stayed.” Geralt hummed, taking a small step forward.

“You asked me to. Besides, what was I going to do, let you go on without me?” Jaskier laughed, his arms itching to reach out, to see if he could just…

“Stubborn,” Geralt growled but there was no heat to it as he stalked closer.

“Yes you are, dear heart. Come here.”

“Two hundred years, Jaskier.” Geralt took another step, his chest seeming to heave.

“You took so much longer than I thought you would.” Jaskier shot back but he was grinning.

“Jaskier.” It was the same old warning bite that Geralt used when he was treading on thin ice.

“Hello.” He was beaming. The room around them had been dim when he appeared but now it seemed to glow.

“Hard-headed.” Geralt surged forward, his arms wrapping solidly around Jaskier, lifting him easily as he buried his face into Jaskier’s neck.

“Are you going to kiss me, witcher or just keep throwing-”

He was cut off when Geralt pulled back just far enough to crush their mouths together, warm and perfect and bright as the sun.

“Absolute bastard.” Geralt smiled as he pulled back, pressing a soft kiss to the corner of Jaskier’s mouth.

Jaskier laughed, throwing his arms around Geralt’s neck. “I’ve missed you too.” He felt tears, actual tears slide down his cheeks as he clung to Geralt. The room around them seemed to vibrate as they clung to one another, filling with a warm light once more before falling forever dark again, the wind whipping through where they once stood.

They say deep in the Blue Mountains, if you are brave enough, there is a keep that once belonged to the witchers of old. For many years, they said it was haunted by the ghosts of all the ones the witchers had lost.

They say Jaskier had stayed. He had stayed and waited, doing in death what he had done in life; following his witcher. That only when his witcher followed was he able to finally leave, hand in hand.

But that is only if the stories are to be believed. The ghosts of the witchers have long since departed, only staying as long as they were needed.

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier #cw: blood and injury #cw: fatal injury #ghost jaskier #lonely geralt #cw: main character serious injury #cw: violence #cw: blood #life of a witcher #geralt feels guilty #promises kept #sad geralt #bittersweet ending

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broadwayandnetflix · 3 years

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Slow Down - Bill Hader x Reader

Warnings: Language

Theme: Fluff + 1/4 of Angst

Summary: Hi I’ve literally been binging all of your fics and I didn’t know if you were still taking requests, but I was wondering if I could request an imagine with Bill Hader where the reader is sick and passes out at SNL and Bill helps them and takes them home

Word Count: 4.1k

A/N: Ahh thank you so much for your patience @bduchrnskei I really hope you enjoy this fic and it met your prompt expectations. I absolutely loved writing this one amongst all of my evil schoolwork, but what can you do?

Living in a small-sized New York City apartment was not all that it’s cracked up to be. Whether it’s the heavy traffic and clutter of construction that never halts or the extreme temperatures during any season.

In this case, in particular, winter.

Or, more specifically, in this case, your heater broke, and it had become like an iceberg within your apartment space. As stated by your landlord, the repairmen were supposed to come on Saturday night, and as of right now, it was Thursday.

So bundling up had to do, in a way, you kind of missed the heater’s incessant rattling, as it had become a sort of a white noise these last few months.

You hadn’t been in New York City for very long, a little under a year, maybe? It wasn’t like you to pack up and move randomly to the Big Apple, but after clearing a spot as a new cast member with Saturday Night Live. It was most certainly a must.

Ever since you were little, you’d always had a knack for making others laugh or just getting to see someone smile. Saturday Night Live became your goal, and to secure it was like winning a million dollars. Even if it meant having to endure New York’s extreme seasonal changes.

This week was no different in the typical workflow; you were technically a new cast member. So the number of sketches you had been in was significantly limited. Still, you loved it nonetheless, with the lack of skits that you had been in lately allowed you to get to know your cast members more.

Specifically, your other recurring cast members like Nasim Pedrad and Jenny Slate, the three of you would often meet up for coffee on Sundays. Taking the time to decompress and discuss your favorite sketches of the week. It was nice to have a group of people you could relate to and find solace in, especially when the weeks became stressful or exhausting.

And oh boy, did your week’s become exhausting, especially on Saturdays. You shuddered at the thought of dress rehearsal as it stretched late into the night; losing sleep was worth the excitement.

You looked at the clock, it was nearing close to four in the morning, and you still had been awake at this point. Maybe it was the cold or the thousands of thoughts swirling through your mind, much like the snow accumulating outside.

Work was gonna be a bitch tomorrow.

You sneezed at the thought, sighed, and made sure to set your alarm before letting sleep take over.

You awoke with a headache and a blaring alarm that was erupting from your phone. Groaning, you shut the phone off and tried to ignore the incessant pain protruding from your forehead.

Swallowing some painkillers, you got dressed, grabbed your keys, and headed to work. Totally not picking up a coffee and a breakfast sandwich on the way.

“Why good morning Y/N!” Jenny chirped as you walked into the room, still rubbing the sleep out of your eyes.

“You sound oddly chipper, what happened?” you said as you put down your stuff, eyeing her curiously.

“She got some sleep, that’s what happened.” Nasim replied, nursing a cup of coffee in her hands, giving you a sleepy smile.

“Lucky duck,” you murmured, instinctively reaching for your coffee as well. It coated your throat nicely, you sighed in content.

Jenny only smirked before starting up another conversation with Nasim; you let your eyes wander across the room. Everyone in motion, working hard to make sure shit got done. That’s the thing about working at 30 Rock; no one ever really stopped moving.

One thing that you still had not gotten used to was Monday’s. The grueling and exhausting twenty-four hour stretch period of planning and concocting up sketches. It was a scary feeling, as if you could ever compare to everyone else.

Every now and then, a pitch you threw into the ball pit would get picked, the tiny butterflies in your stomach reminding you why you did what you did.

Your eyes landed on a particular figure as he strolled into the room. His hair beautifully tousled, eyes half-open, and shirt resting ever so comfortably upon his chest. You diverted your eyes quickly, only to feel yourself begin to sneeze.

Fuck, for the love of all that’s holy, please do not sneeze in front of Hader.... too late.

He looked up, meeting your widened eyes, and gave you a soft smile. It lingered for a bit until Andy swept up from behind and hugged him along by the arm. For a second, you could’ve sworn he was gonna look back, but Andy had appeared to say something.

“Bless you!” Nasim and Jenny said in unison.

You mouthed thanks and leaned back against the wall, replaying the scene over and over again.

“Thinking about Hader again?” Jenny asked, following your line of sight, as she nudged you in the side playfully.

“Jenny! Not too loud, he might hear you.” you frantically whispered, a stern look aglow in your eyes.

“Oh honey, it’s so obvious.” Nasim chimed in, Jenny nodding eagerly in response.

“Plus he’s too far away, you’re more than safe Y/N, I think it’s cute that you like him. All the more reason to make fun of you.” Jenny says quickly before she is shoved by Nasim.

“I’m joking! I’m joking! Okay maybe not fully joking.” Jenny yelps, giving you a wicked grin.

You groaned, rubbing your hands over your eyes in embarrassment. It was so bad, crushing on cast members, but man, was he handsome. Although you had denied it, a lot of your favorite sketches from the past weeks always seemed to involve Hader.

It was not like it was gonna go anywhere; you two barely spoke, and plus you’d probably be a mess if you did. Every now and then, though, you’d often find Hader sitting beside you at table reads. His laugh is always so goddamn infectious, and Jenny and Nasim eyeing you playfully like schoolgirls.

God, you were a mess, and it seemed like everyone knew it. Maybe even Hader knew; let’s hope he doesn’t.

“You know Y/N, I’ve never seen Hader as shy as he is when he’s around you. I mean the man literally sniffed my hair yesterday,” you quirk a brow, “But- but with you, he’s soft” Nasim’s voice crowds your thoughts, and you instantly look up to meet her in disbelief.

“Bullshit.” you retort, trying to ignore whatever attempt she was trying to make.

“Girl, you’ve kind of got a point. He’s not as jokey as he usually is whenever he’s around you Y/N.” Jenny adds, only to be interrupted by Lorne calling for a meeting.

Ah, how could you forget? Dress Rehearsal. While these days didn’t run as long as the others, they were equally draining and stressful. The three of you walked to Lorne’s office just in time as the rest of the cast stood beside you.

You felt yourself to begin to shiver unexpectedly, hugging yourself tightly. Since when was 30 Rock so cold? You felt Nasim look at you questioningly, and you shrugged her off.

Lorne had discussed the skits’ arrangements for the day, murmurs of excitement beginning to spread like wildfire around the room. Everyone just itches to get out and see if their sketch would succeed or bomb.

You took your seat in the audience as the sketches would come and go, meeting your cues whenever necessary. At the same time, your painkillers had seemed to wear off as your headache only seemed to get worse.

You made your way backstage to find the building’s first aid kit, only to brush past another coworker. That just so happened to be Bill Hader.

You opened your mouth, but nothing came out, slowly clamping it shut; his eyes met yours in slight confusion before softening slightly.

“Woah, hey Y/N, everything okay? You were in kind of a hurry there.” he asks; you could barely meet his eyes as they searched yours for any sort of response.

“Oh,” you gulped, “Yeah I just have this crazy headache, um I was just looking for the first aid kit.” you say, shifting the balance on your one foot to the other.

His eyes widened before nodding quickly as if he was just reminded of something. The butterflies in your stomach crescendo as he quickly rested his palm upon your shoulder. You didn’t even know how to act, your body practically freezing at the contact.

“Actually to save you the trouble I have some painkillers upstairs in my dressing room. Not that I have like tons of drugs, but it’s no problem with me if that’ll help your headache.”

You quickly nod in response, trying to hide back a small smile before following him up several flights of stairs. God, you hated being so shy around Bill; it wasn’t like he was some mean old jerk; he was oh so genuine and thoughtful.

The two of you halt at a labeled Hader door; he looks back at you almost to check if you’re still there. Opening the door, he led you in, giving you a quick smirk, before crouching down and digging through the contents of his bag.

You had realized that this was the first time that you had ever been in a specific cast member’s dressing room. In particular, Hader’s room was neat and tidy, but you could see bits and pieces of his character sticking out. You couldn’t help but smile at it all, so caught up in the intricate details you didn’t even notice him get back up.

“Y/N, you good?” he asks; you focus your attention back on him quickly.

His hands outstretched, one holding a bottle of Advil and the other clamped tightly around a water bottle.

“Oh, um yeah. Thank you so much you have no idea how much I appreciate you for doing this.” you say rather quickly, but Hader doesn’t seem phased by your awkward nature.

You reach for the bottle and water, fingers gently brushing against his. The two of you looking down at the contact before parting ways.

Hader clears his throat, and you feel your stomach begin to tighten. Slipping two pills into your mouth, you unscrew the cap and down it carefully.

“You nervous about tomorrow?” he asks while placing the pill bottle back within his bag.

“A little I guess, I mean I tend to get nerves closer to the show. I’m sure at this point though, you’ve become an expert at staying calm.” you reply, his gaze falling towards the floor.

“Oh my god, I’m a wreck Y/N. This show is so stressful it eats at me every week, no matter what. I mean, clearly I’m doing something right and Lorne’s not gonna fire me, but, my anxiety gets so bad.” he says quickly. His eyes widened, and his posture became slightly tenser than before.

You couldn’t help but soften your gaze; you had no idea that he even went through this every week. Even now, with the buzzing tension in the air for tomorrow night, you couldn’t imagine what he was going through. Let alone the fact that he made the time to help you out.

“I wouldn’t have ever noticed,” he looks back up at you. “I mean, you’ve always just looked so...confident. I just can’t even begin to imagine what’s that like, every week constantly. I’m so sorry you have to go through that.” you quietly admit.

He shakes his head quickly, putting out a hand almost as if he was trying to stop you.

“No, no, it’s fine. Thank you though, it’s awfully sweet to hear that. Especially from someone like you.” Hader’s eyes filled with such warmth.

Was Hader blushing? Or were you losing it? Probably losing it.

“Oh about that headache, everything okay up in there?” he murmurs, stepping just a tad bit closer to you.

“It’s probably nothing, but I do appreciate the help.” you look back at the door, “We should probably get back? Right? Don’t wanna miss our dress.” you say quickly.

Hader nods within an instant, eyes widening at the realization of how long you two had been gone for. He led you to the door, giving you a quick smile before he ran out, murmuring something about a skit that had something to do with the guest host.

You giggle softly, heaving a contented sigh. It definitely was gonna be a long day, and you could’ve sworn that the temperature had just dropped.

Strange.

You couldn’t have stumbled into it until at least one in the morning, but sleep had been desperately calling your name. Oh, how you missed having a regular sleep schedule; it would make mornings less of a struggle.

Except this morning was different, or more so than you were used to. The headache that had arrived less than twenty-four hours earlier was now ten times worse. Your body ached, and you couldn’t decipher if the bed was too hot or too cold.

This was torture, and quite possibly the flu, not to mention, you had the show tonight, shit. You practically sprang upwards before feeling the instant aftermath of that decision settling in. It felt absolutely criminal to leave those sheets as you groaned and grimaced your way towards your kitchen cabinet. Eyes barely opened while you blindly searched for the thermometer you had kept.

One quick temperature check later, you were running a low-grade fever. Shit, shit, shit, shit. I mean, you couldn’t miss the show, right? It just didn’t seem plausible, or maybe it did?

You frantically wondered while your fingers grazed over the Google search bar whether going to work with a low-grade fever would be beneficial?

Every answer didn’t really seem to fit the unrealistic expectations that you had set for yourself. Still, one disgusting shot of Dayquil later, you were out the door.

The day went by in a haze, and the headache never really did seem to falter. It was almost like yesterday in a sense, but seeing Hader waltz into the room made you smile. He smiled back.

Of course, Jenny and Nasim knew something was up; they always did. It wasn’t like Lorne was gonna fire you for missing one show; it was the flu. Except, you had made it this far, how bad could it possibly go?

The lights were too bright, far too bright for you to even think properly, and your fever was sure burning up. Or maybe it wasn’t, you always had to ask others around for that sorta assistance. Except, this was the primary night of the week and you weren’t gonna ask a cast member to feel your forehead.

Imagine if Hader did, Y/N, please stop being a dork.

You found solace in a large water bottle, but it didn’t do much to help the way your body ached miserably. You looked like a mess, you felt like a mess, but this was the big leagues.

The last time you had checked, the previous performance of the musical guest had been underway. Which meant you had survived, but the exhaustion that had been ever-growing was begging for you to lay down.

The floor looked so good right now, yeah, just for a hot second, ugh why is everything burning up?

Slowly closing your eyes, you let yourself press up against the wall, except there wasn’t a wall right there, and down you went with a thud.

Bill had been anxious all night, of course for the show, but for you in particular. You usually always looked so put-together, but tonight something about you was just off. It was beginning to rub him the wrong way.

“Andy, do you notice anything strange about, um, Y/N over there?” he said, trying to muffle the concerned edge that rested within his voice.

“Y/N? Oh that new cast member you like?” Andy replied without much thought, earning a stern look from Hader.

“She’ll hear you, god man you sure can be loud. Whatever, she just looks kind of off man, I’m a little nervous for her.”

Andy’s gaze softened just a tad until something caught his attention out of the corner of his eye.

“I mean normally I would say that she looks fine and you’re just crushing, but I don’t think that is normal.” Bill’s gaze instantly locked onto the same thing, which was you fainting onto the floor.

His body going rigid before ultimately bolting upright, he wasn’t gonna catch you in time. Still, he definitely was gonna help if he could. Although he most definitely wasn’t the only one, other stray coworkers who happened to be backstage stood, jaws dropped.

There you went, tumbling to the ground, and Bill couldn’t help but feel his heart drop. Maybe that headache was worse than you had let up. He felt guilty for not speaking up sooner, but there was nothing he could do now.

They called a medic on the site, trying to keep it discreet as possible. It was a live show; he didn’t think it would be professional if broadcasted that shit.

He tried to fill in all of the details of how you had been acting the past few hours. It felt like he couldn’t do much to help, but he didn’t wanna leave your sight. It was odd; something about you really drew him in, leaving him reaching for more.

Plus, at this point, the last thing he had to do was go on stage while they rolled the credits. Bill was optimistic that this would count as a good reason.

He watched anxiously while the medic’s placed you upon a stretcher, his feet following without much thought. They wheeled you out to a waiting ambulance; he gulped at the thought of you having to be taken to the hospital.

Surprisingly they allowed him inside the ambulance; he was so convinced he’d be forced to wait until god knows how long. The vehicle provided seats off the side, allowing him to catch his breath and try not to worry about his current state.

That is until he saw you looking back groggily at him; now, this was definitely normal, as the medic had explained. He just didn’t see it coming; you blinked a few times, looking around at your surroundings.

“Hey, saw you took a little snooze there.” he teased, his gaze never leaving yours.

The ambulance rattled slightly, and you gasped a little before focusing your attention back onto him.

“Is this an ambulance? What happened?” you sat upright, feeling ten times worse, trying to piece together precisely why you and Bill Hader, of all people, were in the ambulance?

“Y/N, you fainted. The doctor’s said you’re burning up, they’re taking you to the ER.” he explained carefully, as you groaned in frustration.

He cocked his head slightly, clearly not expecting that response.

“About that, yeah I think I have the flu, I had a low-grade fever this morning.” you admitted sheepishly, not even daring to meet his gaze.

“I’m sorry what?” he exclaimed, his eyes as wide as literal saucers. “Lemme get this straight, you went to work, with the flu?” you nodded, and he ran his hands over his face.

“Listen, I didn’t wanna disappoint Lorne. I mean it’s the night of all nights.” the words came out softer than you had intended; Hader practically melted.

“Oh, did you really think that Lorne’s gonna get pissed at you for having the flu? Oh sweetie, you know your health comes first right?” his words falling ever so sweetly off his lips.

You could barely look at the man, let alone control the multitude of butterflies that jolted in your already queasy stomach. Not to mention that he even thought to tag along, you nodded, not saying a word, focusing on his blue eyes like they were a safety net. Until you closed them, letting sleep overtake you.

You awoke once more to the sounds of machines beeping, people going from room to room, and an incessant tapping of one’s shoe.

This was most definitely the emergency room, your eyes scanning its surroundings until they landed on one person in particular. He looked exhausted, more so than you did, and you felt awful given the time it was at night. In fact, it was practically morning.

“You’re still here,” he sat upright, rubbing his eyes, “Thanks for sticking it out, Bill.” you tried to give him the most genuine smile you could possibly muster.

“Of course, I mean I overheard the doctor anyway. You’re cleared to go when you wake up, and definitely have to get some rest. I already spoke to Lorne.” you gaped, but he only stood up.

“Bill, what did he say?” you whisper.

“That you should listen to the doctor, and me.” you raised a brow. “Okay maybe he didn’t say me, but you get the point?” he exclaimed as he helped you get out of the bed.

The two of you walking towards the desk in which you had to sign out some papers, the pen unsteadily perched upon your fingers. Bill’s hand holding securely upon your back, in hopes you wouldn’t stumble. In reality, just being near him set your heart aflutter.

“Now I’m taking you home, but first I was thinking I could get you some soup for home. That sound good?” you could only look at the man in pure awe.

“You don’t have to do this Bill, really, I mean you’ve already done enough.” you gulped, only to see the man give you a smirk, his eyes glinting at you mischievously.

“Soup it is.” his hand clamping against yours, he led you out of the hospital and into the cold streets of New York City.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the little soup shop he’d been talking about; it was cozy and apparently open twenty-four seven. Against his offer, you paid for two soups that looked the most delicious and cupped the cups while strolling back to your place.

“How do you think you got the flu?” he asked gently, looking at you with curiosity.

You had to try not to laugh; I mean, at this point, it was your fault, you subjected yourself to the tundra in your bedroom for the past few nights.

“Well, my heater has been broken for the past few nights. I assume that’s how I got it.” a smile aglow upon your face, giggling at Hader’s shocked expression.

“It better be fixed tonight when we get to your apartment complex. That’s ridiculous, Y/N.” you kept giggling, and soon he joined in with that gorgeous laugh of his.

You enjoyed your time with Hader even though internally you felt like shit; he made it so much more bearable. The air was light between the two of you, he made it easy to open up, and you wanted to know so much about him.

God, wait till you let Nasim and Jenny know about this night. They’re so gonna flip; you just knew it. Not to mention, the big looming ‘I told you so’ that was so coming your way.

“This is it.” he came to a halt, admiring the quaint little building that you happened to call home.

“You do know I’m not leaving until that heater is back on, right?” he ordered, but underneath his serious tone, you could see the concern.

“Oh come on Hader, let’s go see.”

The two of you taking the steps at a time, your body wanting to collapse, but you couldn’t let him know. He stood beside you while you inserted your keys into the lock, twisting it, before walking inside.

“What’s that rattling noise?” Hader wondered aloud.

A huge grin meeting your lips, you looked at him in pure delight, and he soon got the memo. His eyes widening before heaving a sigh of relief, only to halt.

“You call me if you need anything okay? Get some sleep, and um, stay warm. That’s an order, you hear me?” you could see his performance wavering as he tried desperately not to laugh.

“Yes, Sir.” you saluted weakly, but he only began to break instantly.

You really did love that laugh.

Thanks, Bill, for everything, really.” you said as he turned to head to the door, stepping up on your toes to give him a quick kiss on the cheek.

His face instantly turned red before trying to compose himself as he walked away. You watched while he left the residence, giving you one last smile.

You awoke in a drowsy stupor that next morning to a text message from an unknown number.

Unknown Number: Want me to bring you some coffee and breakfast? - btw, this is Bill. Hope this l wasn’t too creepy. I ain’t no stalker.

Maybe: Bill: ps. How do you like your coffee?

Bill: ps.s yes or no?

You fell back on the bed with such a shit-eating grin, only to groan in response to the mistake you had just made.

You: Yes

#@broadwayandnetflix #bill hader imagine #bill hader x reader #bill hader x you #bill hader #fluff #angst #snl #Saturday Night Live #andy samberg #nasim pedrad #jenny slate #2021

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yesmooshoe · 4 years

Note

6) (i) from the AU list for ironhusbands? 👀💖

You’ve got a date tonight and you asked for advice on what to wear but I’m so in love with you and damn you look good in the outfit I picked out for you.

“Rhodey Rhodey Rhodey! I need help!” Tony cried out as he burst through the front door of their drafty apartment.

Rhodey’s head shot up to look at him, but he didn’t move from the nest he’d created on their couch. He was wrapped in several blankets with a few large stacks of books and notebooks surrounding him. Mid-Terms started next week, and he had a lot of material to get through.

As Tony stumbled over some of Rhodey’s books on his way into the living room, he finally noticed all of the shopping bags that Tony was carrying.

“Did you get a haircut?” Rhodey asked, seeing that his friend’s usually unkempt hair was freshly trimmed and styled.

“Yeah, and I got a bunch of new clothes. I have a date! An actual date! And all of my clothes are trash and I’ve got no idea what to wear so I went to the mall and just like bought everything that looked cool because I just really want her to think I’m cool.” Tony rambled as he dropped the bags to the floor and started tearing through them.

“Wait, hold up. You have a what?”

“A date!” Tony said with a big smile.

“With who?” Rhodey asked as he closed his book, realizing that this was going to be a thing. Tony didn’t date. If he wasn’t at the apartment he was either at class or in the robotics lab, and he didn’t really have any other friends.

Until this year, at least. Tony was 17 and finally the same age as some of his fellow classmates, so Rhodey had noticed him being a bit more social. Still, Rhodey felt very protective, and while he’d never admit it out loud, he kind of missed having Tony all to himself.

“Uh, Amy Lin? She’s a freshman! And she’s on the robotics team and she’s just super cool and smart and we were sitting outside today and she was like 'hey do you want to go out sometime?' and I was like 'what do you mean, we're already outside.' and then she laughed and was like 'no like...go out. On a date.' and I just felt like such an idiot and I didn't know what to say but eventually I managed to say yes I think and well now we're going on a date! And I have no idea what to wear, you gotta help me. Everything I own is ripped or has burn holes from welding or is covered in grease and who knows what else and I just want to look good."

Rhodey resisted the urge to tell him that he'd look good in a paper bag, and did his best to swallow his own jealousy before he started helping him look through the bags.

The crush on Tony was very new.

Two years ago Tony had just been this quiet, nerdy kid who didn't know how to do his own laundry and was afraid of his own shadow. This year though? This year he was just different. Over the Summer he'd grown a few more inches, gotten his braces off, discovered contact lenses, and overall just came off as more mature and confident. Rhodey's jaw had literally dropped when he saw him for the first time at the beginning of the semester, and ever since then he'd been struggling with a lot of feelings.

"Uhh, ok. Well first of all, where are you going?" Rhodey asked as he pulled out item after item, which ranged from a leather jacket to a tuxedo, so he wasn't sure what the vibe was going to be.

"Bowling."

Rhodey just laughed. "You bought a brand new tuxedo to go bowling? Is that what you rich white people do?"

"I...I mean, I don't know. She mentioned maybe getting dinner at one point and I think I just panicked like what if she wanted to go somewhere fancy instead of bowling and all of a sudden and I just started grabbing everything I could possibly need." Tony explained, sounding a bit exasperated.

"Dude, take a deep breath. It's going to be ok."

"I know I just...I want to do everything right. I want her to like me, ya know?"

"She will! She already does. She asked you out, didn't she?"

"Yeah but...I don't know. I don't know what to do. I'm just not used to this. People liking me. I’ve always been so much younger than everyone at school and no one ever talked to me and I always just feel like I missed out on learning how to be a normal teenager. I don’t know how to date." Tony admitted, being way more candid about his feelings than Rhodey was used to.

"You don’t have to worry about that anymore. Just go out and have fun. Be yourself."

"I’m just afraid she’s going to see what a huge nerd I am and change her mind."

“You guys are on the robotics team. You’re both nerds. It’ll be fine.

“I just -

“Tony.” Rhodey Interrupted. He hated when Tony got like this, and something in him just snapped. “Stop being so down on yourself. You’re funny and smart and sweet and you tell great stories and you’re so enthusiastic about your work and about learning new things so that you can change the world. You’re incredible. And I’m sorry that no one in your life has ever told you that before, but it’s all true and if she sees what I see then...then she’ll love you, ok?”

Tony was just staring at him like a deer in headlights, and Rhodey immediately knew that he’d said way too much. He just hated when Tony got like this, and he wanted him to just see how great he actually was.

“Rhodey I…” Tony started, clearly unsure of what to say in response to that, and Rhodey’s stomach just dropped. Had he completely fucked this up? Had he made everything weird? There was nothing weird about telling your friend that you love him, right? Even if you did happen to have a huge crush on that friend?

They were both silent for what felt like forever, though in reality it was only a few seconds.

“You’ll be fine. Anyway. So when is this date?”

Tony glanced down at his watch. “I’m supposed to meet her in 45 minutes.”

“Well, then we’d better get to work.” Rhodey said as he stood up and grabbed an armload of clothes.

They made quick work of it, just putting Tony in jeans, a red t-shirt, the leather jacket, and a fresh pair of Chuck Taylors. They were a little quiet at first, but soon they found their way back to the joking and teasing they were used to. As Tony stood in the hallway trying to fix his hair the way the lady at the hair salon had told him too, Rhodey just stood back and admired his work. There was nothing spectacular about the clothes, but they were new and clean and fit him well. And the leather jacket was driving Rhodey crazy. As he watched Tony from behind, he wanted nothing more than to grab him, pin him against the wall, and have his way with him.

There were a million reasons why he shouldn’t do that, especially since he was literally about to leave to go on a date with someone else. With a girl.

“How do I look?” Tony asked, spinning around and giving him a big smile.

“Great.” Rhodey replied simply, resisting the urge to say hot. He didn’t want to make anything else weird.

Tony seemed unsure, but looked at his watch again and took a deep breath. “Right. Well, I gotta go. Thank you. For everything. Don’t study too hard, all right?” He said with a little smile before taking one more look at himself in the mirror and then heading out.

Rhodey tried to focus on studying after that, but he just couldn’t. He was jealous, he was embarrassed, and most of all he was horny. He took care of the latter problem a few minutes after Tony left, but after that he just laid on his bed and started at a crack in the ceiling while a million thoughts raced through his head.

This crush on Tony was stupid. Tony obviously wasn’t gay, right? And being gay in the Air Force sounded like a not-so-great idea anyway, so Rhodey really had to work on resisting these crushes if he ever wanted the chance to fly. Still, he couldn’t get that image of Tony in the leather jacket out of his mind, nor could he get over how jealous he felt.

He figured that the best way to get over it was to distract himself, so he got up, took a cold shower, ate some dinner, and settled in back on the couch to watch TV and wait for Tony to get home. Despite the jealousy, he wanted to hear about the date and how it went. He just wanted Tony to be happy, and if dating Amy made him happy, then he’d do his best to be enthusiastic about it. At least on the surface.

Not long after Rhodey settled on the couch Tony came home and immediately plopped down next to him.

“Hey, you’re home early. How’d it go?” Rhodey asked, genuinely shocked that he was home. It hadn’t even been two hours, and he was just glad that he hadn’t decided to jerk off again.

“Yeah, it was fine. I mean, I had fun. We bowled and had some pizza and then sketched up an idea on a napkin for a bowling robot that we might try to build next week.” Tony said as he stared at the floor while fidgeting around with his zipper. “And then like, we were in the arcade part. Playing pinball. And she kissed me.”

“Well hey! That’s good, right?”

“I don’t know. It was weird. I mean, I’ve never kissed anyone before so I’ve not got much to compare it too. But like, it was like kissing my sister. If I had a sister, I guess. I don’t know. Just didn’t do much for me.” Tony admitted quietly, and Rhodey had no idea how to respond to that. Luckily, Tony kept talking. “And then it was a little awkward and she said that she didn’t feel like bowling anymore so we turned in our shoes and then she said that she thought that maybe we should just be friends.”

“Oh. Well shit, that sucks man, I’m sorry. But this is only your first date, there are plenty of other girls out there! There’s even at least 1 more on the robotics team, right? I’m sure you’ll find someone that makes you feel that spark.” Rhodey said as he put his hand on Tony’s shoulder. He just didn’t want him getting too down on himself.

Tony just looked up at him and smiled, and it was a look that Rhodey would have to file away to use later. “Thanks. Yeah, it’s fine. She still wants to be friends, so that’s good. Friends are good. I’m gonna go change, ok?”

“Sure.”

Tony stood up to head to his room, but then stopped and hesitated for a moment.

“Tony? You all right?” Rhodey asked as Tony turned to look at him. He was quiet for a moment, like he was searching for what to say.

“Are you doing anything Friday night?” Tony finally asked.

“No.” Rhodey answered, confused.

“Do you - would you be interested in like - going out?”

“W-what?” Rhodey stuttered out as his heart started pounding. This wasn’t actually happening, was it?

“Go out? Like...on a date? I guess? Unless I read that whole situation earlier wrong.”

“I…” Rhodey just trailed off, completely taken by surprise by all of this. “Um. A date?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Uh...ok. Yeah. We can do that, if you’re sure.”

Tony nodded. “I’m sure. Been thinking about it all night.”

“Oh.”

“Ok, so. It’s a date, yeah? Dinner? Movie? I don’t know, that’s what people do, right?” Tony said as he shoved his hands deep into his jacket pockets.

“We’ll figure something out.”

Tony nodded again and turned to head to his room.

“Hey, Tony?” Rhodey called out after him, causing Tony to stop and turn to him. “Whatever we do, promise me you’ll wear the leather jacket.” Rhodey said with a confident little smile, finally regaining a bit of composure.

A huge grin spread across Tony’s face, like he was finally relaxing too. “All right.”

Rhodey was terrified, but also so excited that he couldn’t imagine focusing on his notes anymore. After Tony disappeared Rhodey ran straight to his room and to his closet, desperately looking through all of his clothing. Nothing seemed good enough, so he figured he’d have to take a trip to the mall himself tomorrow. He wasn’t sure he could look as good as Tony did in the leather, but he could certainly try.

#rhodee #ironhusbands #tonyrhodey #rhodeytony #james rhodes #tony stark #mooshfics #hello tony looks very good in leather jackets and rhodey agreeeeeeees #asks

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hyrule-kingdom-updates · 3 years

Text

Zelda burst into the room, arms full of metal plates, gears, and screws. Astor just sighed.

“What is it you want this time?”

“I have an idea!” The young princess let her items drop onto the old carpet with a thud.

“Another one?”

“Mmhm!” She quickly ran up to the windowsill, eyeing one of the hanging gyrospheres. “Can I have that? I want more metal. Pleaaaase?”

“Sure.” He didn’t even look to see what she was pointing to.

Zelda hopped up on the windowsill, jumping to try and reach the device, but to no avail. It seems time has not granted her that much advancement in height. She turned back to Astor.

“Can you grab it for—?”

“No.”

“Uggggggh.” Zelda hopped back down, going back to her pile of scrap. “Fine, but I’m stealing one of your journals.” She plucked one of the tattered blank books from the floor, and started jotting notes inside of it.

Astor clicked his tongue. “I’m not here to be your source of raw materials.”

“I’ll have you know that this stuff was procured by a third party!”

“That Sheikah bard you mean?”

“Yeeep!” Zelda started sorting through her belongings, mumbling stuff about legs and swords.

After a few minutes of concerning whistles, whirrs, and clangs, Astor finally looked behind him.

“Alright, this isn’t a workshop, what is it you’re doing? What exactly is this ‘idea’ you had in mind?”

Zelda held up what she was working on, a metal husk in an ovular egg shape. “I’m gonna make a time machine!”

He raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“I’m gonna access a universe where the Calamity is defeated! Then, we’ll ask the people there to help save us!”

Astor studied her up and down for a long moment, before giving another tired sigh and turning back to his papers. “That’s not gonna work.”

“Sure it will!”

“With that cannon scrap? Please. At the very least you should be using Sheikah technology.”

Zelda stopped fusing some metal plates together for a moment, looking up at him. “Well? What’s the difference? They seem sorta similar.”

“Difference? Tsk.” The seer kept sketching, a bit more roughly this time. “Well what you have there is some metal scrap, old armour plates, and forgotten canon ball pieces.All made by our generation, our ignorance. Sheikah technology is infinitely more advanced, with millions of years of advancement behind it. And out of the two, it would be the more probable one to have the capabilities to power such an impossible device.”

“Really what does it run on?” Zelda bounded up to Astor’s desk to see what he was working on. She didn’t need to stand on her toes to see, and he seemed to be less guarded about it around her in recent weeks.

He was sketching some weird device, a circular orb, with jagged discs around it like gears. It sort of looked like an astrolabe, or a gyrosphere, but also…

“Is that a Giant Ancient Core?” Zelda asked. “This why you stan Sheikah technology?”

“Stan?”

“It’s a word that that old orator guy told me once. Before the whole jail thing.”

Astor turned his head and locked eyes with her for a moment, though he didn’t say anything immediately.

“What?”

He just shook his head. “Yes, it’s an Ancient Core. A special one.” He pointed to the further end of his desk near the wall. There sat the very device he was sketching, and Zelda’s eyes glittered in awe.

“Can I have it??? That’d be super cool for me to pow—”

“NO!” Astor suddenly rose from his desk, snatching the astrolabe into his arms. He started pacing around the room with it. “This isn’t for children to mess with! This is important. I have to keep it safe. I have to act quickly now if I want to prove it true. I have to—” He turned back around to Zelda, who had slowly been backing away from his sudden outburst.

She worriedly looked him up and down for a moment, and the seer then took a shaky breath. He set the astrolabe down on a high shelf. “....Sorry. You can’t have it. It’s technically not mine.”

Zelda was quiet for a moment longer, before she dared to speak. “You’re both a lot nicer, and a lot meaner now, you know that? It’s really weird. Ever since...” She trailed off.

Astor felt his shoulders slump, before quickly shaking his head and scowling. “Well I’m not your friend. So I’m not partial to your opinions of me.” He turned back around, taking up his old sketch of the astrolabe. Zelda was able to catch a few handwritten notes about “mulice” and “soils,” although she wasn’t sure she could read his handwriting that clearly.

“...Mr. Astor…?” Zelda asked.

“Mm. What.”

“I just wanna say that...I’m sorry I always bother you.” She looked down, fiddling with the loose threads on her sleeves. “I know that….you’re always working...because I’m not a good princess...you’re always working on finding a way to stop the Calamity, like me.” She then clapped her hands together. “Soooo, that’s why we should work together now!”

Astor cleaned up the rest of his desk before giving another long sigh. “I’m not stopping the Calamity, Princess.”

“Whaaa? Then what are you doing?”

“I’m accepting it. I’m seeing what options there are within the destruction. And you should too.” Astor shoved some rolls of parchment into his pocket.

“You should come with me, Zelda.”

She scratched her head. “Hm? Why’s that? You going somewhere?”

“I…” He paused for a moment. “I found an option, but it’s more than that, I…” He looked at the ceiling, clicking his tongue, before he settled on his words. “There’s a lot of things wrong, around us, that the Calamity can actually get rid of. So, I’m going to go help steer things in the direction I desire.”

Zelda pouted. “I like my plan a lot better. My plan has an egg! Plus, it doesn’t involve leaving the castle and my friends and family.”

“Mm, well, I suppose that’s our key difference then.” Astor paused, pushing his hair behind his ears. “It’s as simple as this, Zelda. You either adapt and grow smarter, changing for how the world is and always will be,” He locked eyes with her. “Or you keep trying to cling to your impossible dreams, and you die.”

Zelda didn’t even bother entertaining the dilemma. She simply flopped back to her metal trinkets. “Well, the world didn’t seem so permanent and unchangeable when it came to technology, did it?”

He opened and closed his mouth for a moment, before grimacing, and heading for the door, taking the astrolabe with him. “I don’t know why I bother, childhood naivety is too powerful these days.” He put a hand on the doorknob.

“So where aaare you going, Mr. Astor?”

The seer turned the knob, but didn’t pull. He turned once more to the young princess, a grim expression on his face. “I can’t say. But are you sure you don’t…?” He trailed off, before seeming to answer the question himself. “Nevermind, it’s impossible. I had just hoped I wouldn’t have to…” He glanced back at Zelda’s metal egg. He let out a huff.

“When you inevitably pursue your doomed plan, make sure you research into Sheikah Technology, understand?”

The princess suddenly skipped across the room, beaming. “Sure thing! But wait, I can come with you, actually, if it’s just a quick trip—”

“No. I hate children. I hate you. And I hate your parents. Haven’t you used your ears around these parts? I’m despicable and unpleasant, and you’re a true fool for even hanging out in this wretched place.”

The princess bit her tongue, rocking back and forth on her heels. Finally, after just a second or two of thought, she cocked her head to the side. “I don’t think you’re that mean!”

Silence. The liar opens the door.

Astor gave her a final frown. “Well you’re wrong. Hopefully, I’ll make you see that someday.”

#???#Assivus Hartell #long ago and long away #Didymos Astor #Princess Zelda Mallory Hyrule #hku spoilers

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paintedwithapalette · 4 years

Text

Presenting a lovely commission I recently received from @wingbladeweaver1357 of Naminé and Kairi from my Memories of You fanfic where they’re twin sisters! I’m absolutely in love with it!

Decided to write up a quick snippet to go along with it as well that may or may not show up in the future of Memories of You itself! Enjoy!

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

Memories of You: Naminé and Kairi

Word Count: 1,383

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

"Knock, knock," Kairi called. "Dinner is served."

Kairi backed into Naminé's room with her hands preoccupied with a tray of grilled meat and curry rice. Naminé sat at her desk, lost in her own world as a zest of inspiration compelled her to look over her work with a great amount of scrutiny as she scribbled into her sketchbook.

"Thank you," Naminé replied, her eyes unmoving. "Smells great. On the bed is fine."

Kairi paused. Did she hear right? For the first time in weeks, Naminé’s voice didn't sound like it was desolate of all life and energy. "So, I suppose asking you to come downstairs and eat at the table with us like a normal family for once is out of the question?"

"What was that?" Naminé asked, not tearing her eyes away from her drawing.

"Never mind," Kairi said tiredly, complying with her sister's earlier request and set her dinner on the mattress. "Just promise me you'll at least touch your dinner this time?"

"Don't worry, I will. And I'll be at breakfast in the morning. Promise," Naminé assured her offhandedly. Kairi couldn’t claim to be convinced. She had heard it a million times before. "If I don't show up, I'll do your chores for a month."

"Deal. I’ll hold you to that, you know.”

Before leaving, she stole a stealthy glance at Naminé and took note of her seemingly more animated posture. It was far from the first time she had seen her sister absorbed in her own world. But this time, something seemed different; whether it was the way her pencil scraped against the paper sharply, or the way she chewed her lip, or the slightest bounce etched in each of Naminé's movements. It was a subtle something that only a sister of sixteen years could pinpoint.

Kairi peered over Naminé's shoulder to get a glimpse at whatever kind of artistic spectacle was in the works. "Soooo, whatcha drawin'?"

"H-Hey! Do you mind?" Naminé was quick to press her sketchbook against her chest. "You know I don't like when people look."

Kairi raised her hands in a show of no ill will. "Sorry, are my unrefined commoner eyes tainting your latest masterpiece?"

"Why, yes. Yes, they are. Glad you understand."

Kairi scoffed. "No need to get uppity. I was just curious because you seem a bit more excited than usual."

"Excited? What do you mean by excited?" Naminé chuckled nervously. "I'm not excited. Who's excited? Are you excited? Can I not just be immersed into the wonderful world of art without arousing baseless accusations of this so-called excitement?"

Kairi snickered at the transparent façade. "Subtle."

Naminé frowned. "Don't you think your food is getting cold or something?"

"Funny, I was just about to say the same thing to you." Kairi giggled at the dirty look from her sister and headed for the door. "Fine. I can take a hint. I'll be downstairs if you need anything."

When Kairi turned towards the door, Naminé gave a look of gratitude and returned her focus to her sketchbook. However, when Naminé was least expecting it, her sketchbook was quickly swiped from her work station. With eyes on the brink of popping out of her skull, Naminé looked over to find Kairi making a mad dash towards her own bedroom with a most evil cackle trailing behind her.

“Kairi!” Naminé cried, immediately rushing out of her room to give chase.

“Sorry, little sister, but I couldn’t resist,” Kairi called, her eyes running over her sister’s sketch as she sped walked down the hall. It was an impressively constructed piece of Roxas with an insurmountable amount of attention to detail resulting in an insanely accurate depiction of the boy in question. “Aha! Just as I suspected.”

“Kairi,” Naminé shouted, her voice coming off more whiny than anything. As Naminé chased after her sister, she couldn’t help but remember when Roxas took her most embarrassing doodles of hers when she was little, teasing her all the while. What was with these two and their incessant need to humiliate her? “Give that back!”

“But this is so good,” Kairi said as she entered her room. Naminé hurried inside soon after and sprinted towards her sister with the intent of tackling her to her bed, but Kairi simply raised a hand to catch Naminé’s face, ignoring her muffled moans and whines as she pathetically reached for her sketchbook. “No wonder you were so focused. It’s like... almost a photograph.”

“Thank you very much. Now hand it over.”

Kairi gave it one last look, a wide smile spreading, before handing it back to Naminé. The bespectacled girl held it close to her chest protectively and adjusted her glasses.

“Look, I know I might look like a bit of a weirdo,” Naminé started, “but it really was just an excuse to practice portraits. That’s all.”

“Mmm hmmmm,” Kairi mummed in disbelief. “If that’s the case, why choose Roxas?”

“Because, uh...” Naminé stumbled. “I-I like his hair?”

It wasn’t a lie, anyway.

Kairi smirked, shaking her head as she set her hands on her hips. “Little sister. Have you not learned your lesson that your lies hold no weight over me, your true evil overlord?” She gradually began to speak in a dramatic tone.

“Would you please stop calling me your little sister? We’re only minutes apart.”

Kairi grabbed Naminé by the shoulders and shook her. “Your meager attempts at diverging the topic of our current discussion do not sway me, woman! I know thine heart hath a penchant for the boy who hails by the name of Roxas and your denies are futile!”

“And stop talking like that. It’s starting to freak me out.”

“Just admit it,” Kairi said, her voice returning to normal. “I’ve admitted to you about how I feel about Sora. The least you can do is return the favor. Don’t you trust me?”

Naminé eyed her up and down with scrutiny. “Do you really want me to answer that question?”

Kairi rolled her eyes. “Do you like Roxas? Yes or no?”

Naminé bit her lip as her eyes moved all over Kairi’s room in an attempt to avoid that gleam of anticipation of hers. “I... maybe, okay? Maybe. Now, will you leave me alone?”

Naminé hurried towards the door, but Kairi read her like a book and swiftly stepped in front of her as she blocked her exit. “So, you admit it!”

“I said maybe.”

“Which basically means you want to bear his children!”

Naminé felt a blush sneak up on her at the accusation. “W-What...?”

Kairi snaked one of her arms around Naminé’s shoulders. “Hee hee! You wanna know what I think?” she asked, her voice returning to normal.

“After that comment you just made, not particularly.”

“I think you should give it to Roxas as a gift.”

“Kairi,” Naminé said plainly.

“I’m serious. You know how much he loves your art. I’m telling you, he’d fall head over heels for you!”

“T-That’s not really the point,” Naminé said, her eyes running over her sketch. “Isn’t it kind of creepy? Drawing somebody without their permission?”

“Maybe if you didn’t know the person, but we’re talking about your friend, remember? Our friend. A friend who adores everything of yours he’s laid his eyes on. Also, helloooo? His birthday is coming up next week. The time is now!”

Naminé’s look of uncertainty didn’t waver much, her eyes repeatedly switching from her sketch to her sister’s hopeful eyes. “So, you’re saying I wouldn’t look like a creep if I gave this to him?”

“Not at all! You should give Roxas more credit. He’s not some judgemental jerkface, and you know this. He’d be thrilled. Just have a little bit of courage and I’m sure it’ll all work out.”

Naminé still looked unsure.

“How about this,” Kairi continued. “I’ll be right there beside you when you give it to him. If you ever get discouraged, I’ll be right there to nudge you in the right direction.”

“I don’t know about this, Kairi...” Naminé whispered, lifting her sketchbook over the bottom half of her face to hide her quivering lips. “Are you sure this is a good idea?”

Realizing that Naminé was beginning to warm up to the idea, Kairi noticeably brightened and clenched her fists.

“I’m positive!”

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

If you’re interested in seeing more of their sisterhood, feel free to check out Memories of You on ff.net! It would mean the world to me!

#namine #kairi #kh commissions #kh fanfiction #wingbladeweaver1357 #commissions #kingdom hearts

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broken-clover · 5 years

Text

Goretober Day 8- Obsession

Man, I’m like...double late. Well, better late that never! And hopefully the nest ones should be short to balance all this out. This is one of the prompts that specifically made me choose this list! I had an idea ahead of time and I’m glad I was able to use it.

Today I’m using Zappa and S-ko! Though not in the way you might expect. In a sense, this is kinda-sorta an AU based on Misery (I hate Stephen King, but Kathy Bates is a phenomenal actress and the film was excellent) with a few differences. Hopefully you like how it turned out! I’m going to bed!

Cold.

Everything was cold, and everything hurt.

Why did it hurt? He couldn’t think. It was hard to see. There was nothing but white.

And cold.

And Pain.

He’d been...where had he been? What had he been doing? Why was he outside in the first place? The storm was supposed to be-

The storm. The blizzard. He’d been trying to drive home after the powerlines fell down and knocked out all the electricity. They couldn’t do any computer work without power.

But he was supposed to have been going home, why wasn’t-

The ground seemed to open up underneath him before he could answer the question. It dumped him out into something soft, but somehow even more blisteringly cold. He would have recoiled from the sensation, but he felt too tired and and it hurt too much to move.

Something warm brushed his side, so foreign and odd from everything else that he wondered if it was really there. He didn’t have much time to think about it, however. The world seemed to decide that he’d spent enough time awake for the time being and pitched him headfirst into unconsciousness. He wasn’t sure if it was an annoyance or a relief.

++++++

Zappa awoke to a similar white, but this one wasn’t freezing cold. Actually, he felt quite warm and comfortable where he was. His head was still swimming and something was throbbing in pain, but it all felt so much more bearable when it wasn’t so cold out.

A smear of something ash-black edged into his vision. It was difficult to discern at first, but as he blinked to clear his vision, it turned into long, dark hair, framing the face of a person that he definitely didn’t know.

As soon as the thought crossed his mind, Zappa stiffened up in panic. The stranger took note of it, and pressed a hand gently against his chest.

“Easy, there. You’re okay.” It was a woman’s voice, quiet but slightly raspy. “Your car crashed nearby, but I pulled you out of it. You’re safe with me.”

It wasn’t much to go off of, but she certainly seemed kind. Not that he could do much in his current state anyway. He dragged himself up to sit on the bed she’d put him in. One arm felt tender as he put pressure on it, and he found the whole limb wrapped up in bandages.

“Popped your wrist right out of place.” The woman explained. She reached over to pull the blanket back, and he winced at the sight. Though it had been splinted up and mostly bandaged over, his right leg was still twisted oddly, and the white fabric was soaked through in a few spots. “Banged this up pretty badly, too. But I think the concussion’s eased up, and for the state your car was in, I’d say you’re pretty lucky to have made out with just that. Don’t worry, though. I’m a nurse, I know how to handle this kind of thing.”

She seemed to have thought of everything. Zappa couldn’t help but be impressed. “Thank you very much for your help, I’m not sure what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up.”

“It’s no problem at all! I’m glad I could help you out.”

“You’re very kind, ma’am.” He smiled gratefully. “Um, I guess I should introduce myself, I’m-”

“Oh, you don’t need to tell me! I already know!” She cut him off, expression growing giddy.

“Huh?”

“You’re Zappa! The famous paranormal researcher! How could I not know who you are?”

Zappa felt his face going red. “I-I’m not, really-”

“Oh, don’t be so modest! I’ve read every single one of your monographs and dissertations, you’re amazing!” The woman was practically bouncing in her seat. “My name is Sadako Yamamura, and I’m your number-one fan!”

“Y-you’re too kind.” He turned away in embarrassment. “I-I just write theoretical stuff. It’s not really as interesting as practical magic-”

“But your theories are just so well-detailed!” Sadako shook her head. “I’ve never seen a writing style like yours, everything is so organized, and you think of things that nobody else would ever think of! I’ve never understood anyone else so well since I read your texts!” She clasped her hands together. “So really, it’s an honor for me to be able to take care of you! I feel like such a lucky woman to be able to meet you at all!”

He’d gone absolutely tomato-red, burying his face in his hand. Sadako giggled quietly. “Oh dear, don’t make yourself faint. Would you like some water? Or some soup? I’m sure you’re hungry…”

Sadako seemed like a very kind woman. Zappa found himself warming up to her as she milled around making lunch. She seemed the chatty type, which was a tad odd, considering that she seemed to share the house only with herself.

“It’s not all that lonely.” She said, stirring a pot on the stove. “It might be a quiet place, but the scenery is very beautiful. I like the snow.”

He stared out the window with a little frown, watching the blizzard continue to rage on outside. “I can’t imagine it would be safe to try and drive anywhere.”

The woman shook her head. “Afraid not. I think the phone lines got knocked down, too. I can't seem to get a call to anywhere.” Her expression grew dismayed, until she put a smile back on. “But that’s okay. You can stay here and rest up until the roads are clean.”

The idea of being stuck where he was felt worrying, but she did have a point. The weather was far too bad to try and go anywhere, and it would be a death sentence to try. He’d barely made it out the first time, he didn’t need to press his luck at all.

Something warm settled into his lap. Sadako sat down in the chair next to his bed, carrying a bowl of her own.

“I hope you like tomato!”

++++++

Zappa had been very lucky to end up where he was, staying in the home of someone so kind. Miss Sadako seemed ready and willing to do anything he could have asked for, and even more than that. Not that he would have, he was a guest, after all. But she seemed insistent to do an extremely thorough job in looking after him. Every day, she checked the bones, redid the bandages, checked his temperature, offered painkillers, tossed on more clean blankets, and gave any sort of assistance that she could manage, whether he asked for it or not.

That...seemed to be the only problem he could name. He couldn’t help but be slightly distubed at her lack of a sense of personal space. Complaining felt rude, but Sadako had to reservations in patting his hand, ruffling his hair, or looking over the injured limbs without much of a warning. Maybe that’s just how people were around here? It didn’t seem impossible, but it also didn’t do anything about the uneasy feeling it gave him.

At least he was able to take his mind off of it by discussing paranormal theories. Sadako was a bit of a casual theorist- which he’d only been able to barely make out in between her praises of him. The blizzard had lightened, but the roads were still covered in snow and any attempts to make a phone call accomplished nothing, so they’d opted to try and stay occupied until then. His arm had healed up a bit and the swelling had gone down, so he could hold a pencil and sketch out some diagrams while they conversed.

“It’s all still theoretical, mind you, but it is very possible that the Backyard is not a fully separate dimension as we’ve thought up until now. Instead,” he sketched out a few new lines on the sheet of paper, and held it up for her to see, “I’m wondering if it’s, in a sense, overlaid over the world we’re in now, just sort of ‘adjacent’ to our reality, close enough that it can interact with ours but we can’t visually experience it the majority of the time.”

“Oh, that’s brilliant!” Sadako clapped her hands. “You’re really brilliant! I never could have thought of that, not in a million years!”

“I-I’m sure you could have.” Zappa replied. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. Besides, I can’t prove anything yet…”

“‘Not yet,’ though! I’m sure a genius like you will figure everything out super-quick!”

He wanted to insist that he really wasn’t as bright as she was giving him credit for. But the feeling of a hand sliding over his made him stiffen up.

“Zappa,” Sadako said, “what do you think of me?”

That took him even more off-guard. “You seem like an incredibly kind woman, a very clever one, too.”

She seemed unsatisfied with his answer. “What do you think of that, though? Do you like that in a woman?”

Realizing what she was trying to say, he blanched. “Oh. Uh, m-miss Yamamura, I barely know you. I-it’s not that I dislike you, or anything. I’m just not exactly doing the whole ‘dating’ thing right now.”

It was enough to get her to calm down, though it didn’t diminish the suspicious look in her eyes. “I’m not sure I understand. Have you met someone already, or…?”

“Well, yeah, actually.” He smiled sheepishly. “I’ve got a boyfriend at home. His name’s Randy.”

“Oh.” Sadako replied, stiffening up. “I-I didn’t realize you were...taken.”

Zappa waved her down. “Hey, it’s alright. I tend to keep my personal stuff to myself, nothing wrong with you. I just hope he’s not too worried about me…”

She laughed again, quietly, shaking off her embarrassment. “Haha, I’m sorry, that was silly of me. Got a bit in over my head. It’s everyone’s dream to fall in love with their idol, y’know? I wasn’t really thinking.”

He’d thought that would have been the end of it. If Sadako had gotten the hint, she would have backed off on all the touching and learned to respect boundaries a bit better.

That was wishful thinking.

“Alright, easy...have you got your balance?”

Zappa wobbled awkwardly on a pair of crutches, trying to figure out how to orient himself so he could take a hop forward. Sadako had insisted that he at least try it out, to see if he could manage enough of an impromptu walk while his leg was finishing up on healing.

“I’m not sure if I can get this.” He admitted, trying to find a way to keep balance to he could swing his arms. “H-how do I- ah- !”

A familiar pair of warm hands caught him before he could fall. “Gotcha. Are you alright?”

With a bit of maneuvering, Zappa managed to stand up again. “I’m fine. Thank you for…”

Though he’d managed to stand up straight again, Sadako didn’t let go. Actually, he could feel her touch sliding across his skin. Her hand came to rest on his side, sliding down a bit too low for his liking.

“Your hand, can you put it a bit higher?

Her eyes shone with innocence. “Hmm?”

“Sadako.” Zappa snapped. “Please stop touching me.”

“Huh? Oh, sorry.”

He watched her let go, then step away to stand across from him. “Okay, let’s try this again, alright?”

That seemed fair. He tried adjusting the crutches again. “You said the plow gave you the all-clear, right?”

She nodded. “Yes. The phone lines still aren’t quite functional, but the roads are safe.”

“Excellent. Does that mean I can go home today?”

Sadako flinched as if he had just slapped her across the face. “What?”

Zappa tilted his head. “It’s been a long time. If I can’t call them, then nobody knows where I am right now. I’m sure Randy and my co-workers are worried about where I am.”

She took a step closer. “Y-you don’t have to leave already, you’re still not well yet! You- uh, you shouldn’t go out like this! I’m sure we’ll be able to send a call soon, you can tell them you’re staying- !”

“Sadako.” He hardened his tone. “I appreciate your kindness, and I don’t mind compensating you for it. But I want to go home. It’s alright if you don’t want to go the entire way, but can you at least drive me to the nearest police precinct?”

After several moments, she slumped over in defeat. “Alright, I can do that. Let’s...let’s head out this afternoon, okay? I’ll make lunch, and then I can drive you home.”

Zappa finally let his expression soften. “Thank you, Sadako.”

By the time he had managed a few steps on the crutches, she called him in for food. Vegetable soup and bread, both steaming warm.

“It really was a pleasure to be able to get to know you, Zappa.” Sadako seemed to have cheered up a little. “Not everyone gets to meet the people they admire, and I guess it’s pretty rare to have your idol be an amazing person in real life, too. It really means a lot just have been able to meet you.”

He still felt a bit averse after what had happened before. “I’m glad I was able to live up to your expectations. I’ve never met a fan before.”

“How’s the soup? It’s a new recipe I’m trying.”

It was very good. He hadn’t been especially hungry in the first place, but the taste made it hard to stop eating it. “It’s delicious. Can I ask what you put in it?”

“Not really anything special,” she said. “Garlic, bay leaves, bit of…”

Anything after that faded into incoherency. Zappa braced himself against the table with one hand, feeling an odd dizziness suddenly strike him. The walls shifted, threatening to knock him out of his chair if he couldn’t stay balanced.

“Zappa?” Sadako’s voice was somewhere in the distance. “What’s wrong?”

Everything was on fire. Oh god, he was burning alive! The heat of the soup had been comforting, but it had spiked into a blazing pain all the way down, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to gasp for air or simply throw everything back up.

The heat and dizziness was overwhelming. He could just barely recognize that he’d fallen out of the chair and hit the floor before he blacked out.

++++++

The feeling of warm softness was familiar. The world still felt too hot, and when he finally managed to peel back sticky eyelids, the room was blurry.

“Are you awake?”

The voice sent a shot of ice directly into his spine. Zappa tried to sit up, but he found that he lacked the energy to do so, and he immediately sank back down, whimpering in the intense heat.

“Easy, there.” Something cold brushed his cheek, and Sadako’s face came into view. “You gave me quite a scare, passing out at lunch like that. You feel so warm, can you tell me where it hurts?”

It hurt everywhere. But when he opened his mouth to speak, all that came out was a sticky, incoherent sound of pain.

“Oh no,” she cooed, with the same saccharine tone that he was all-too-familiar with, “poor dear. I guess the food must not have agreed with you. Don’t worry. I’ll make sure that you’re nice and healthy before you go home. I wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to you. You mean a lot to me, you know...”

#obsession #writing #goretober #goretober 2019 #guilty gear #Zappa

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niall-is-my-dream · 5 years

Text

You & Me - Part Twenty (last part)

So here it is! The last part!

Thankyou to everyone who has read, liked and reblogged this fic. It means alot to me. Thankyou to @for-fucks-sake-h and @niall-talk for their support and advice.

Hope you like the ending. Let me know what you think! Em x 😘

2900 words

Christmas/New Year's 2017

Callie's POV

Christmas Day had been great with your family, your Mum had cooked an amazing dinner. You'd laughed with your cousins and watched films in your comfy clothes for the rest of the day. You even managed to get a Skype call in with Niall.

Boxing Day was a busy one too. Tom and Claire came over and some of your parents friends. A cold buffet was served as you had a couple of drinks and played cards until late.

You were actually really nervous when your Dad dropped you off at the airport the next morning. You'd met Maura and Bobby before, but this felt like a much more grown up and important meeting with them.

After Niall gifting you a very expensive guitar and calling you the love of his life in his speech the other night, you'd realised how serious the relationship had got. It had sort of crept up on you, the busy life of travelling and touring kind of covered it up. Not that you were complaining, you loved Niall and you knew he loved you too.

If you looked back over the last month, all the signs for it has been there. It wasn't so much as giving things up for each other, more adapting both your lives to include the other one in it. A natural progression from friends to lovers had occurred, although to be honest Niall felt like one of your best friends. But you wouldn't tell Bex that.

You were friends who shared a love of the same music, laughed at the same films, joked with each other. But you were also partners who cared deeply for the other and it physically hurt you to be away from him, a dull ache in your heart. He had slotted into your life easily and you couldn't imagine it with out him.

*********

"Being in an honest, sincere, and committed soulmate relationship helps you to become a better version of yourself. You have to push yourself beyond your comfort zone, beyond your limits to find your better self.

Even though we tend to think of soul mates as a symbiotic union; soulmate relationships can be rough at the beginning. They can be like two jagged edged puzzle pieces trying to click into place. Sometimes it looks like you do not fit together at all, but soon after a little bit of twisting, turning, and flipping the pieces around, you feel the moment of the perfect click. It's a feeling deep in your soul, that says, this is the right one.

Often soulmates appear in disguise. You might not be physically attracted to each other when you first meet, but there is a mysterious force pushing you forward that tells you this is "the right one" for you."

(Quote from June Silny on life hacks.org)

**********

The flight is short from London Stansted to Dublin, just 1 hour 25 minutes. You had barely got comfortable in your seat, before the crew announced you would be landing. Storing away your sketch book back into your bag, you buckled up your seatbelt ready for the descent.

Niall had told you he would be outside the terminal waiting for you, hiding in the safety of his rental car. Your phone rang as you went through the sliding doors, pulling it from your pocket when you got outside, you smiled brightly as you saw it was Niall.

"Hey you!" You said as you answered your phone.

"I love how much you smiled when you saw it was me petal." Niall replied.

You looked up and down the pick up area and saw Niall's car waiting in one of the bays. He smiled when he saw that you'd noticed him.

"Get that bum of yours over here now, I need a kiss." He added.

"Sure thing boss." You replied and then hung up the phone and dragged your suitcase to his waiting car.

Niall hopped out and helped you put your suitcase in the boot of his car before opening the passenger side door for you. As soon as he had sat himself in the driver's seat, he leaned across the centre console, his hand coming up to your cheek. You leaned across to, fisting a handful of his hoodie and pulling him closer.

"I missed you." You whispered as you closed the gap between you both, kissing him gently.

"Missed you to sweetheart." He managed to whisper against your lips, that he didn't seem to want to stop kissing.

"Come on Horan. Let's get going." You said as you reluctantly leaned back in your seat.

"There are some services just as we leave, I need to pop for a wee." He smiled.

"No worries babe, is it far back to Mullingar?"

"Just over an hour."

"Not too bad then."

When Niall pulled into the services five minutes later, he leaned over and gave you a quick kiss and asked if you wanted a coffee from the Costa Coffee shop inside.

"That would be great, and a muffin to please."

"Usual choice?"

"Yes please."

"Won't be long, love you."

"Love you too." You replied with a wink.

Niall practically held your hand all the way back to Mullingar, only letting go when he needed to. Even though you had caught up with each other at least twice a day on the phone and sent numerous text messages while you'd been apart, you still had loads to talk about.

The journey back to his Mum's was a chance to have a bit of alone time, since you'd be surrounded by both your families for the duration of the trip.

He put on some music, Hozier blaring through the speakers, both of you singing away as you cruised down the motorway.

Niall's Mum's house was packed on New Year's Eve. Lots of their friends and family had made it over for the annual party they liked to have. Chris, Niall's Step Dad always did a spectacular fireworks show apparently, and you were looking forward to it.

Your parents, along with Tom and Claire had arrived yesterday afternoon and had settled in well with Niall's family. Maura had asked your Mum for advice with the food for the evening's party, and your Mum had practically beamed at being involved. The pair of them had even exchanged Christmas gifts with each other.

You found yourself sitting next to Niall's Nanny chatting for quite some time, her telling you some great stories about Niall as a child.

"Enough of that." Niall had said to her as she began another story.

He topped up both your glasses with prosecco before helping his Nanny into the garden to get her comfortable for the fireworks. Chris had set up all the garden furniture and patio heaters. There was a large fire pit as well, to keep everyone warm. You made sure his Nanny had a place near the warmth and helped her cover her legs with a fleece blanket. With just a few minutes left until midnight, everyone else gathered out on the patio in the garden, finding themselves a spot by the warmth too.

As the countdown began, Niall wrapped his arms around you from your seat around the fire pit. You cuddled up close to his chest, feeling completely content with him. When the clock hit midnight, everyone was cheering and hugging each other. Chris set off his fireworks and the sky was lit up with colours.

"Thank you for an incredible year Petal." He said, your faces mere inches from each other.

"No, thank you. Next year will be even better." You replied kissing him gently.

As you sat cuddled up watching the firework display, you thought about how much had happened over the last year. You'd travelled extensively with Niall, the band and the crew all over the world. He'd celebrated having a massive hit single with Slow Hands, followed up with a tour and a number one album.

When you had been texting each other back in July while you were both on vacation with friends, you hadn't expected anything apart from a bit of flirting. Finding out that he developed feelings for you had been a shock. Crushing on Niall hadn't been difficult, but you never thought in a million years that he would be secretly thinking of you as more than a friend too.

Everyday that you were together was a new adventure. Everyday your relationship and connection grew stronger. Even the stress of Saskia Jones couldn't break you both. The restraining order had remained even with the news of her supposed relationship with Jasper Littlewood.

Since the morning of Kim and Sam's visit to Nialls house in L.A. with the news that Saskia had been stalking Niall and yourself, you had been 100% honest with each other at all times. The news that she had text him saying she would ruin him and been hard to swallow. It had been beating Niall up inside, he hadn't wanted to scare you away.

But you had been true to your words with each other, no one would break you. Not even Saskia Jones.

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

13 months later

February 2019

A week after arriving back in L.A. and you still felt like shit. You were pretty good at getting over jetlag, but you knew it must be something more. You felt absolutely exhausted, your face was pale and you had been sick quite a few times. Niall had even attended the Grammys after party without you.

Niall was in the kitchen when you came downstairs after your morning shower. He had been to the gym and then to the grocery store.

"You ok babe?" You asked giving him a quick kiss as he put the food into the fridge.

"Yeah, are you?" He said his eyebrows raised.

"Still feel a bit sick, must be something I've eaten. Can't think what though."

"We've eaten exactly the same stuff over the last week." He replied smugly. "So I picked you up something from the store."

He put his hand in one of the bags and took out a box and placed it on the kitchen counter.

A pregnancy test.

"Niall........I'm not pregnant. I think I know my body well enough to know that." You said, completely baffled by his assumption.

"Oh yeah, you think? Had your period lately?!"

You cringed at the topic of conversation. You weren't embarrassed to talk about stuff like this with Niall, but it wasn't exactly something you felt needed to be spoken about. Until you did the math in your head and looked up to see his smug face again.

"Fuck, I'm ten days late." You mumbled out.

"I know. I worked it out this morning while I was running on the treadmill."

"You were thinking about my period schedule while on a treadmill?!"

"Was just trying to work out if we'd eaten anything different, went back over each day to try and decide what it could be that made you so sick. Then it dawned on me, that you're late."

"It's probably just the stress of moving into the house and getting everything sorted for it."

You had recently become the proud owners of a beautiful house in a leafy suburb in London. You began discussing moving in together when you were on the world tour last year. You'd been together just a year at that point, but both of you were reluctant to spend the nights apart. Not knowing where your favourite hoodie was and constantly forgetting stuff was getting annoying for you both.

Niall had also surprised you over the holidays by asking you to marry him in front of both your families at his Mum's annual New Year's Eve party. You had been shocked but had instantly said yes, your parents had all known about the proposal as Niall had asked your Dad's permission.

"Go in the downstairs loo and wee on the thing then." He said excitedly.

You hesitated slightly, the box felt heavy in your hand.

"I love you." He whispered, but it did nothing to ease your nerves.

Five minutes later and you sat on the bathroom floor not wanting to look at the little white stick resting on the edge of the sink. The allotted two minutes was definitely up by now, but you were too scared to look at the result.

A knock on the door behind you made you jump in shock. You moved away and opened it, Niall's eyes landed on you sitting on the floor.

"So.....?" He asked.

"I haven't looked."

He knew you were worried. That boy could read you like a book. His face however was pulled into a massive smile as he looked at the leaflet from the box and then checked to see whether the stick had one or two lines.

"It definitely isn't something you ate. We're having a baby!" He said, the excitement evident in his voice and his beaming smile.

"You're not angry or worried about it?!" You blurted out.

"Of course not! I asked you to be my wife less than 6 weeks ago. We have just got a date to move into our dream family home. Yeah, I would've preferred to have gotten married first, but this is happening now for us."

You sat on the floor in complete silence. He had been thinking about a possible pregnancy for the whole morning, you just ten minutes.

He was so happy with the news, the smile however was soon disappearing from his face.

"Why are you not excited?" He asked the worry evident in his voice.

You stood up on your feet and reached out to him. His hands moved to your waist, yours landed on his chest. His eyes were confused you could tell straight away. That was until a smile crept up your face.

"I hope the baby is as beautiful as you." You whispered.

His lips met yours and you grinned and giggled as the excitement took over.

***********

One year later

February 2020

Musician Niall Horan 26, spotted browsing the aisles of his local Waitrose in London today with his cute 5 month old daughter Ava Elizabeth.

Niall Horan was spotted out in the capital today with his daughter. Craddling baby Ava close to his chest as she slept in her baby carrier, he left everyone swooning at the check out as he gently kissed her head while he waited to pay.

The former One Direction star has had an amazing few years since the band went on hiatus at the end of 2016. He spent 2019 writing and releasing his second album that went straight to number one in 44 countries. He and his personal guitar technician, Callie Brown became parents to Ava back in September and were rumoured to have got married over the Christmas holidays in his native Mullingar. Niall was spotted with a white gold wedding band on his finger as he picked up supplies for the family.

The couple who have been together for two and a half years are often spotted together out in London or near their other home in L.A. They were first linked when they were spotted sightseeing in New York back in October of 2017.

Niall, who never normally confirms anything regarding his dating life, has relaxed that a lot in the last few years. Callie had appeared in numerous posts on his social media and they've walked the red carpet together a few times. Most recently when he attended the American Music Awards in L.A back in November, where he picked up 2 awards.

Callie looked stunning in a long black strapless dress just two months after the birth of Ava. Niall looked lovingly at his fiancee and the mother of his child as they posed for pictures and were interviewed.

Seems he's come along way since his brief relationship with Victoria Secret Model Saskia Jones. A source close to Saskia said that she had become tired of Niall's fear of commitment, so had ended things with him. Seems unlikely now that was the reason for their break up, considering his current relationship status.

Maybe the rumours of her being a nasty piece of work are true. A news article published in May of last year described Saskia's strange behaviour when Jasper Littlewood ended their short lived romance. He reportedly had to ban her from the E News studios after she turned up very single day.

Everyone in the industry knows how humble and down to earth Niall Horan is. No one has a bad word to say against him and his wife Callie. His fans absolutely adore her, describing her as the best thing that has ever happened to him.

It would seem that she, along with their daughter Ava, are the best thing to ever happen to him. Niall was recently interviewed by Radio One DJ Greg James about his up coming world tour, which kicks off in two weeks. When asked if he was planning on having Callie as his guitar technician still and if she would be accompanying him with their young daughter on tour he said,"I don't go anywhere without my girls."

Anyone else swooning?

I know I am!

Tag list

@niallersdirtylaundry

@youvegotyourvictory

@fireawayniall

@sugarwithlilspice

@juicyfruitlove

@ihearthemcallingforyou

@klairelavarias

@lizziespidiepridie

@irishfireandice

@someoneunimportantxx

@awomanindeniall

@loulouloueh

@sing-me-a-song-harry

@niallergirl1d

@niallspeachybooty

@roseytattoo

#Niall #Niall Horan #Niall fan fic #Niall fan fiction #Niall Horan fan fic #Niall Horan fan fiction #solo Niall #flicker sessions #one direction #Niall fluff #Niall smut #emily writes

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resbang-bookclub · 5 years

Text

AMA Transcript: Unrequited

Next up, @infantbluee, @kallie-flower, @nori-wings and @thiefofblood (Souly on Discord) came to answer questions and spread the love for their Resbang, Unrequited! Here’s some of what went down:

Q: How did you guys come up with this idea? I remember you threw a ton of ideas around and settled on this one. Can you take us through the process? >:)

kallieflower: Oh god. We went through SO many different ideas. We wrote like what? 40k for our first idea before we scrapped that?

b l u e: Then like 30k for the next one that we also scrapped.

kallieflower: WE KEPT TRYING TO WRITE SHORT THINGS BUT IT DIDN’T WORK. Soma just does not work as shortfic.

b l u e: Even our final bang ended up being a 40k two-shot lmao.

Q: So what was it about this final idea that made u guys decide, YES, this is it???

kallieflower: The first idea was a Madoka Magica AU that exploded into a mess because magical girl worlds take a loooooottttt of work. The second fic also exploded into something big.

b l u e: We were going to stick with it though. We were. We had it all ready for check-in and everything. But then like two days before, kallie went, "okay so I love our fic idea and all but what about this." Me, on three hours of sleep: "I effing hate you." Then we stumbled through our first 3k and sent it to the mods like the gremlins we are.

kallieflower: We didn’t expect it to get so big either but c’est la vie. Chloe almost killed me like 48293783 times during the process but I think we managed alright.

b l u e: You're lucky I love you so much.

Q: Did you guys start writing straight from the beginning of the fic or did you write a specific scene first?

kallieflower: Actually we didn’t start from the beginning haha! Or well, our idea didn’t start from a plot. We just wanted to write Maka cursed. We wanted to write her with no inhibitions in love, like she might’ve been had she not been so hurt by her parents’ separation. And since there are witches in the SE universe, we had fun with that instead of making it an AU.

Q: Do you write linearly at all or did you jump around a lot?

b l u e: Surprisingly yes. Aside from my dream sequences.

kallieflower: Your dream sequences were our pit stops. We just had to actually do the writing to get there.

b l u e: Hahaha our writing process was.... Unique.

kallieflower: That’s one way to put it lmao.

nori-wings: It was a mess, but we love it.

b l u e: WE are a mess so it's just us in fic form.

kallieflower: God yeah. For one thing, this fic was like 90% chloe with me just making her do crazy things I wanted to happen.

nori-wings: And 5% of what the artists wanted to happen.

b l u e: YEAH hahaha that was kallie too tbh. She was like, "me as a witch would not understand anything about my magic at all and would curse people for kicks, so let's do that."

kallieflower: We would have a general plot of how we wanted to go and what points we wanted to hit. Chloe would start to write it, but then I would be like “WAIT WHAT ABOUT THIS.” And then she would pretend she thought I was a total nuisance but we all know she’s too soft and sweet to ever say no to anything. Also our artists were such a LOVELY help too.

b l u e: We wanted as much of their input as possible and we wanted to make this as much of a collab as we could. The train scene at the beginning of the third chapter was all nori because she was mad at us for only torturing Soul and wanted Maka to cry too.

Q: Nori/Souly did you have a favorite piece of art to make?

the monkey chain (soul): The skating scene was my fave. I also accidentally changed the part in the fic with the skating since I didn't ask what kind of skates they were supposed to be kfljgdf.

b l u e: LMAO it's our fault though!!!! We were Too Slow.

nori-wings: Black*Star dragging Soul and Maka is my favorite, it was super fun to draw.

b l u e: When you sent the first wip of that, I think I cried for days. It was better than my dreams. You were both so fast GOD, it takes me seventeen years just to sketch a pic.

kallieflower: For real tho. We don’t deserve artists.

nori-wings: They are exaggerating, it was a quick sketch that I made on a post it lol. It took me a week to draw it in digital.

the monkey chain (soul): I had free time since we moved and were without internet for a night so I had a ton of time to finish my pic.

Q: Did you have trouble meeting the deadline?

kallieflower: Trouble is putting it lightly lmao. We died. Many times.

b l u e: I don't trust fast writers. Clearly they are superhuman. It wouldn't have been hard if we didn't spend so much time drowning in memes and shitposts that we neglected to write.

kallieflower: I blame the internet.

Q: Were there any scenes that you guys really struggled with writing?

b l u e: The beginning, definitely. Everything else flowed out pretty quickly, but the beginning made us want to cry into our pillows and smash our keyboards.

kallieflower: I think there was a period of time where Chloe was like, “I will physically pay you money to write this scene so I don’t have to.” But yeah, the beginning scenes were definitely hardest to write. I think we rewrote them like a million times.

Q: Nori and Souly, was there a part of your art that was trickier to do?

nori-wings: I think painting Soul and Maka's kiss, because I wanted to use as few colors as possible and I played a lot with shading, or at least I tried haha.

the monkey chain (soul): Uhhhh not really for me? My pieces were relatively simple and probably the most issue I had was drawing Maka's skates and figuring out what Soul would be wearing.

b l u e: I cried when we got paired with souly.

kallieflower: Chloe literally fangirled to hell over getting souly as our second artist. And we were very lucky to get nori as our artist too because we already became really close friends through the zine and talked all the time. Our resbang just gave us an excuse to move all our blabber to a personal server lmao.

nori-wings: Yeah, they asked me to be something like a beta but I ended up being their artist.

kallieflower: We joked about it beforehand too and were SO happy it happened. We were so blessed with support and love this year. We never would’ve finished without the help of our artists and betas.

nori-wings: They are making it sound nice, but we wouldn't let them drop out.

kallieflower: LMFAOOOOOO. Nori likes to be sassy but she’s one of the softest of us all

b l u e: We legitimately would've dropped out if not for our artists.

kallieflower: “Do it for our artists” was our mantra through the whole process when we wanted to quit. Peer pressure makes diamonds, maybe.

b l u e: I mean, it didn't feel like that when we were bullshitting our way through our next 5k before each deadline, but it be like that sometimes.

Q: What was your favourite scene to write?

b l u e: My favorite to write was definitely the nightmare demon scene.

kallieflower: Because she’s a sadist and likes angst. Chloe likes to make people feel pain so her favorite scenes were definitely the angsty ones.

b l u e: FDSJFKDSF

Q: For errbody: what do you feel like you improved/grew in this resbang, writing and arting-wise??

kallieflower: For me, I definitely grew in writing skills even though I didn’t end up writing much of this bang (chloe, bless your soul for carrying me this year lmao) because chloe is SO GOOD at writing that it made me want to be better, learn better, do better.

b l u e: Kallie made me work harder than I ever have my entire life and it paid off SO MUCH. I very much only ever write ventfics.

the monkey chain (soul): I feel like I Peaked with Maka's outfit in the skating picture, like I don't pride myself in outfit design much these days but Maka's outfit came out so good. I didn't expect it.

Q: Were there any parts of Unrequited that really pushed you out of your comfort zone?

b l u e: Writing with someone else was such an experience.

kallieflower: We definitely had to compromise a lot in terms of writing. Like I wanted Soul to walk in on Kid touching Maka’s scar and Chloe immediately said “fine, but only if we make Kid a gardener” and if that isn’t a super fair trade off, idk what is. Chloe and I work so well together so that was easy. And we like a lot of the same things.

b l u e: There was a little adjustment [with adapting to different writing styles] but not much, because despite what kallie says, she's actually so freaking smart and talented it actually makes my eyes water.

Q: If you had the time to do something differently, what would you do and why?

b l u e: Everything. Jk no but really. There's just a lot I wish we could've elaborated on. And more suffering to be had of course. I just wish we had more time to elaborate on Spirit and Maka's mom.

kallieflower: Oh god yeah. Maka did not get enough of a backstory in the manga or anime and that makes me sad always.

Q: What made you both decide on the outcome of the curse? Did the witch know how it was going to affect Kid?

b l u e: We actually knew the outcome from the very beginning when we decided what kind of curse it was.

Q: Okay SO one last question for the crew. What is next!!!! >:)

nori-wings: Next collab is me writing and Chloe as my artist. (She just doesn't know it.)

b l u e: FDHDJFKSDDSF

kallieflower: OMG PLS HAHAHA. I’d be all over that collab. Chloe is working on a soma longfic she won’t let me beta because she’s Secretive. And I am trying to work up the energy to use my keyboard again after the hell that was finishing Resbang.

Thanks to the crew for stopping by! Stay tuned for more transcripts!

#resbang book club #rbbc #rbbc 2018 #resbang 2018 #unrequited

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lavenderblossom74 · 5 years

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*Quick note: This is set after Season 3 Episode 2 "Weredad"

CHAPTER 1

It was actually kind of weird when you thought about it. Because somehow Marinette confessing her love for him and then him rejecting it and then both of them agreeing to just be friends had somehow brought them closer together.

Adrien was just so comfortable being around her as Chat Noir. Whether he hung out with her as she drew sketches, or she used him as a model, or she fed him freshly baked sweets, or they played video games, or he tried out new puns and she pretended to not like them… it was just an atmosphere of peace.

And inevitably, he'd also found out there was a guy she liked. She'd let it slip on accident and he'd endlessly grilled her on it while at the same time trying to think of who it could be and wondering if Adrien knew him.

It could've been someone from another class. Or someone who didn't even go to their school.

But he grilled her anyway, teasing her with "Wow, Princess, am I that easy to get over?"

She'd stuck her tongue out at him, "First of all, I liked you for all of like less than a week and it was more like a 'Oh Chat Noir, he's a cool and nice dude – and you'd better not let that inflate your big head even more. Plus it was more like a superhero crush."

"And a cat in shining armor crush too?

"Sure, Chat, that too."

He'd nudged her shoulder with his own, "And do you plan on letting him know in the same fashion you let me know?"

She'd laughed incredulously at that, "Right, as if that would ever happen. I wish I had that type of courage." Then her voice took a more serious tone, "If he were to reject me, I don't know if I'd be able to stay friends with him and I just…"

This had caused Chat Noir to furrow his eyebrows as he thought about this, "So your love for him is not just a crush but more like my love for Ladybug?"

Hugging herself, Marinette had softly whispered, "Yeah"

He'd never in a million years thought that her love had applied to him…

Thunder rumbled in the distance and rain began to fall in heavy sheets. Chat Noir wrinkled his nose in distaste at the sky – as if today hadn't been bad enough already.

He'd been laughing with Marinette at school as they'd remembered Nino saying some corny line to Alya. Then Lila had approached them, a smug smirk resting firmly on her face. Both his and Marinette's laughs had quickly dried up after that.

"Oh hey, you two! Watching you from afar one would think you were a cute couple. Of course when you get closer, that's proven untrue. Sad, isn't it Marinette?"

At this, Marinette stiffened and Adrien found himself frowning. "Leave her alone, Lila."

"Oh no, this is something you have to hear, Adrien. You see, it's something Marinette has been hiding from you for quite some time now."

Marinette abruptly stood, her bangs falling into her face and obscuring her eyes. "Stop it, Lila."

"Stop what?" Lila answered with false innocence. "Afraid I'll tell Adrien you love him?"

The floor beneath Adrien's feet seemed to fall away as his brain struggled to process Lila's words.

"Oops, I guess I just spilled your little secret."

Adrien felt like he was underwater and everything was muffled. Marinette… Marinette loved him? He was the guy she'd talked to Chat Noir about?

He pulled away from his swirling thoughts and forced himself back into reality. He watched Marinette's whole body tremble as she whispered, "Why? Why would you-"

Lila shrugged casually, "Why not? It was time you found out your petty love is unrequited."

Adrien set his jaw, "Lila, that's enough."

"Is it? Tell me I'm wrong then. Tell me you like her back. Tell me, Adrien."

And he wanted to, just to wipe that stupid smirk on her face and strike back after all the pain she'd clearly caused Marinette. But he couldn't. His heart wouldn't let him because it would be a lie and Adrien didn't lie. He wouldn't renounce his Lady nor would he hurt Marinette further.

His silence caused Marinette to freeze for a few precarious seconds before she bolted away.

Adrien chased after her, unsure of what he would say but knowing he had to try something!

But Marinette was fast and Adrien eventually lost sight of her. Instead he began making his way towards the bakery but Nino intercepted him on the way there. Apparently Marinette was now with Alya and she had specifically asked not to see Adrien.

And so hurt and confused, he'd transformed into Chat Noir and stalked across the rooftops, desperately hoping that Marinette wouldn't be akumatized. Not sweet, heart-on-her-sleeve Marinette. A couple hours had gone by and nothing had occurred but still Chat Noir refused to leave.

Which brought him to where he was now. Soaking wet and shivering yet still staring at Marinette's balcony with a heavy heart.

And suddenly he was on her balcony, not even aware that his feet had begun to move. Then the trapdoor opened and there was Marinette, her eyes puffy and her face sickly pale but regardless still dragging Chat Noir into her room.

Giving him a towel and a good scolding of "Kitty, you'll get sick! Aren't cats supposed to hate rain, anyway?"

Bringing him some hot chocolate and a fresh batch of cookies because "I'm not sure it's a good idea to give you so much sugar but you look pitifully sad all wet so here you go."

Sitting down beside him in silence for a few minutes before he finally had the courage to ask, "Princess, what's wrong?"

Because of course, he had to pretend to be clueless, pretend he didn't know he was the reason her heart was hurting.

"I-I… the guy I liked found out I liked him. And well, he doesn't like me back." Her voice broke, "Which is stupid because I kind of already knew that but- but now it feels real and- and-"

Chat Noir had to work around the lump in his throat. "I'm sorry, Princess."

Her lips curled into a watery smile, "It's okay, I guess. I actually kind of feel bad because he probably feels horrible right now. And it isn't his fault – we don't choose who we like, we just do. But at the time I was hurting and I asked not to see him and knowing him he probably feels guilty but it isn't his fault! Our hearts love who they will and sometimes they love people who don't love us back and I can't change that. But it still hurts."

At this, she leaned her head onto his chest and began to cry. He wrapped his arms around her and held her because that was all he could do.

How did he fix this?

AN: This is my first Miraculous Ladybug fanfiction and I am super excited! Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoyed! Reviews are very much appreciated :D

~LB

#miraculous ladybug #marichat #adrienette #fanfiction #miraculous fanfiction #reveal fic #Adrien is no longer clueless #but that's just because Lila spells things out for him

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maiji · 6 years

Photo

@logicheartsoul Thank you so much for the kind words ^^ And certainly - thank you for your interest and for asking! I love working with ink so I’m happy to talk about it :D

How I got into it

It's only been in the last maybe five or so years that I've actually started to pay more attention to art supplies. In the case of ink, it really started with fountain pens. Long story short, one of my professors was really into them and let me try one of his vintage pens, and I was vaguely interested. Then my best friend really got into them, and I tagged along to a fountain pen show (shoutout to Scriptus Toronto!!). From there it was a slow burn over a period of months from “this is neat” to “WOWWW OKAY I GUESS I’M REALLY INTO THIS NOW”. It was a (relatively, for me) quick entry once I discovered the online fountain pen community. These people are incredibly passionate, highly articulate, and best of all, document EVERYTHING. I found the ink reviews especially spectacular and that’s probably what hooked me the most.

A few other things that helped in the appeal factor:

I have a tendency to grip writing implements excessively hard and exert a lot of unnecessary pressure when writing or drawing with more conventional pens (ballpoints etc.) A number of people mentioned that fountain pens helped them to alleviate this because generally you don’t need/want to apply pressure when using them. I’ve found it has helped.

I've always been interested in forms that combine words and images, and this merges literary and artistic worlds in a very clear way.

I’ve been on a long personal journey of wanting to incorporate much more Chinese/Taiwanese/East Asian heritage and cultural traditions into my work. Thus, I've been gravitating towards things emphasizing brush, ink, water, elements of calligraphy and... not sure if spontaneity is the word I want, but things that help me overthink less when I draw, and get better at letting go.

How I work with ink

My (main) tools

Fude de mannen: This is basically a fountain pen that mimics a brush for Asian calligraphy. It has a bent nib that enables you to change stroke thickness by varying your hand angle. I love this pen so much I got a second one so I could have a different colour; the washi tape helps me tell which one it is. You can see more of it in the video interview I did with PindotPress.

Brush pen: A pen that is a brush. lol. A number of companies make them; I use the Pentel Pocket Brush because it's the first one I tried and I liked it a lot. It's smooth, has great line variation, and the tip has yet to fail me. (Although the cap started falling apart, hence all the tape on my first one lol.) I currently have three: one for permanent black, one for permanent red, and one because I couldn’t resist buying a coloured version of the pen (I have Diamine Earl Grey in it right now).

Glass dip pen: These dip pens are pretty but what is super awesome is that they are super easy and fast to clean. I can quickly switch between multiple colours of bottled inks. The grooves in the nib hold ink, so you need to slightly turn the pen as you go to access all the ink. You can also get a wider stroke by slanting the pen and using the side of the glass nib. It's not that easy to control your lines, but I actually like this because it creates a lot of happy accidents. And “oops well damn" accidents, but like I said I’m trying to cultivate the whole “learn to let go" mindset.

Waterbrush: Basically a brush that carries its own water reservoir. I’ve used a few different brands but I find I like the Pentel Aquash small the best. Some people fill them with ink like a brush pen, but I’ve not really done that. (I did it once with a different brand that was harder to open/refill and I got mad.) I use it to paint with the inks.

Pencil I got for free: Unless I really am just doodling, I usually draw base pencils of some sort, even if it’s just a very rough, light sketch or a quick thumbnail on another sheet of paper. Every so often I get an inquiry asking what special kind of pencil I use, but I’m afraid they’re just normal pencils rolled with recycled newsprint. I got free samples like a million years ago and I have been using them forever. (I think I’m finally down to my last three.)

Eraser: I’ve been trying a few different ones but it takes me forever to work through an eraser. You want it to be able to pick up the lines without requiring you to scrub and take the ink too or destroying the fibres of your paper. This one actually works pretty well. If you’re really curious you can see the non-destroyed packaging here! lol

Toilet or tissue paper: Something to pick up the water. This is my "undo button” in real life when I’m painting/using the waterbrush. Also I drown everything with water so it’s very important.

Ink swatches: Every time I get a new ink I make a sample and add it here. It’s great for colour palettes and when I’m looking at other inks and trying to decide whether to get it or not (e.g., is it different from everything I already have? My definition of “different” is very generous...). I don’t actually have all these inks; some were samples from friends. I’ve found I tend to gravitate towards very complex, nuanced neutrals. (This sounds so sophisticated but when you see them all it once it's like. Oh. Apparently I like shades of grey, brown, and other hard to classify "muddy" or in-between colours lmao. But more on that in a bit.) Lately I've been getting glittery inks because they're fun and they add a magical dimension to the physical piece.

Here is my current selection of inks - on the shelf to the immediate left of my laptop and my head as I am typing this right now. The box at the bottom left is all the samples.

My approach

In my mind, I broadly classify my approach into two categories: “dry” and “wet”.

"Dry" - ink only, no water. I have pretty unsteady hands and hate "inking" - if we think of inking as an exercise in achieving a "clean", controlled line drawing with consistent line width/stroke thickness, neatness, etc. So I love pens that support me in what I think of as controlled loss of control - wide variations in brush width and stroke character. Brush pens and fude de mannen pens are perfect for this. They have lines that offer a wide range of dynamic, organic, and textural opportunity. My Inktober illustrations fall into this category. A few examples below, followed by links to the full set.

Inktober 2017 - fude de mannen

Inktober 2018 - brush pen

"Wet" - Basically I blob water around. Depending on when I do it (before, with/during, after the application of the ink), you can get different results. The water causes the ink to bleed, semi-watercolour-like, and can be used for shading, environmental effects etc. For obvious reasons, this works best with non-waterproof inks (which the vast majority of fountain pen inks are), but you can do this even with waterproof inks. Just let the ink hit water before it has a chance to soak into the paper and you can get cool effects :D. And you can also do it with other pens too, not just fountain pen inks. Examples:

Tiles of Toronto urban sketch series

Raizen and Hokushin doodles

Arikoto from Ooku

As you might imagine, this is really great for on-the-go drawings, because you just need a pen (or a couple of pens) and a waterbrush.

The “wet” approach is also where the very complex inks that look "boring" (greys, taupes etc.) are just complete magic. When the dye elements separate, other colours emerge, and you get really wonderful textural effects and rings of colour where the ink pools and dries. Diamine Earl Grey is a colour I've mentioned several times that I LOOOVE because it separates into blues, browns, purples, even pinkish tones. It's a gorgeous ink. You can see some examples and closeups here.

Another colour that does this really powerfully is Sailor Rikyucha. It’s a dark tea brown-green that separates very easily into pale blue-greens and more and has amazing tonal and textural qualities. The Tendril Wreath illustration here really shows this.

For the most part I look at things I like and then experiment to figure out what happens. After working with the same tools for a while, you get a sense of how the different elements might react and respond naturally. The Genjimonogatari series employs both dry and wet extensively and is an example of the experimenting and playing I’m doing - I keep finding new aspects to the inks I thought I knew, and making “interesting” mistakes. And trying to fix them as I go with varying levels of success, haha. But I’m always learning!

One more thing about this hobby

I feel compelled to finish with some talk about the pure aesthetic appeal, or the MULTIPLE LEVELS OF FUN I get out of these inks. Not just the colour, not just how the ink behaves, but... the name of the ink as well! Some inks do this more effectively than others. Similar to how the presentation of a dish is part of the experience, the name of an ink adds so much to my enjoyment of it. My least favourite ink names are [standard adjective]+[standard colour name]. My favourite ones are really convoluted with literary and poetic references, I just love them hahaha. Asian fountain pen inks I find tend to do this especially well - partly because of how much you can pack into how few syllables, I suppose. It makes me sad that a lot of sites don’t include the original names, often referencing them with just a number, though I understand it is difficult to translate. But I learn a lot with these names as a starting point! For example, Zhenjing, which I mentioned recently in the Kurama “Light” illustration, took a bit of back and forth with my parents to look up the source and then to interpret the complex line of poetry. It was a fun and fascinating exercise.

A great name can’t save an ink I don’t like, but a good name elevates an ink I do like even more, and it can be really inspiring for making stuff. For example, take Pen BBS Mirrorflower Watermoon. I adore the colour of this ink - it's a very subtle grey-pale green with silver flakes. I used it heavily in the Hokushin fanart “Northern Deity” (you can see it here with photos of the sparkly).

The name is actually highly recognizable if you're familiar with classic East Asian literature/poetry. I read it out loud to my parents with no context other than "this is the name of one of my favourite ink colours" while they were eating dinner and they both said at the same time, "I know this! DREAM OF THE RED CHAMBER!" lmao. It's a very Buddhist idiom or phrase referring to the illusory nature of things, likening it to the reflection of a flower in a mirror or the reflection of the moon in water.

I hope this was interesting and helpful! ^^

#art supplies #logicheartsoul #replies #reply #fountain pen ink #ink #waterbrush #brush pen #fude de mannen #art by Maiji/Mary Huang #how I work #process

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gentlemanmendes · 6 years

Text

Beauty Behind the Madness | 14

a/n: I will be posting a part of bbtm each day until it is finished. previous chapters can be found in my masterlist under Beauty behind the Madness

14:

Now that I look back at it bringing Layla home with me was probably the worst idea I had ever come up with. After having sex I had expected her to leave but she didn't, instead she stayed in bed and clung onto my arm like a leech. When Miranda had rocked up to do our assignment Layla had sat with us in the dining room and kept talking about rubbish to distract us. It had become too much even for Miranda to handle so she had left and told me she would just email me the rest. So instead Aaliyah had sat with us, reluctantly , in the lounge room and watched a movie.

Now it was five in the afternoon on a Saturday and she still hadn't left. She was really beginning to bug me. Layla had never been one of those annoyingly clingy girls which was making me wonder why had she been acting this way since yesterday afternoon.

Thankfully my parents wouldn't be getting in until late tonight meaning that I had from now until then to find a way to get rid of Layla. Everywhere that I went she would follow and it was beginning to drive me insane.

As I got out of bed I made my way to the window pulling on my tee shirt just needing to put as much space as I possibly could between Layla and I who was sat on my bed watching me with prying eyes.

The last thing I had expected to see, which shouldn't have come as a surprise considering this was once a normal thing , was Arleigh sitting on the front steps of the house her sketch book on her lap and her fingers gripping a pencil that seemed to be attacking the page before her, a cup of coffee next to her.

Not being able to help it I allow a smile to take over my face as I watch Arleigh. This had once been her Saturday morning ritual, and now she was finally doing it again. Was she becoming herself again?

Looking through the kitchen window I had found Arleigh seated on the front steps of her house and hurried over to see her. Mr Axle and Arleigh had left not long after I had dropped her off on Friday afternoon and considering I hadn't seen the car in the driveway yesterday or this morning I'm positive that they have just gotten home. Without hesitation I hurry out the front door and down the driveway to see Arleigh. The last time we had seen each other things hadn't actually gone as well as they should have.

"Hey." I greet once I'm seated next to her. She doesn't respond and I can't help but wonder if she is still mad at me for what happened on Friday afternoon. Just as I'm about to open my mouth and apologies Arleigh starts crying.

"I'm sorry." She whispered as she covered her face with her hands. In panic I wrap my arms around her and pull her into my chest.

"No don't cry, it's not your fault, I was kind of an ass." I admit wanting nothing more than for Arleigh to stop crying. She shook her head and mumbled a 'no' that was muffled by my shirt as she continued to sob gripping onto me tightly in hopes of comfort. Not knowing what else to do, I hold her tight and kiss her forehead every now and then.

To be honest I never really knew how to act around Arleigh when she cried, she always seemed so fragile and broken when she cries causing me to feel hopeless because I know that there is nothing I can do to help. But right now sitting here with her sobbing into my chest I realise that the best thing to do is allow her this chance to let it all out.

Eventually she had managed to calm herself down and pulled her face out of My chest but kept close with her head against my chest as my arms stayed securely wrapped around her. She was looking down the driveway at nothing in particular when she started talking.

"My dad took me to Newtown." She sighed as she ran a hand through her hair hoping to push away the few strands that were sticking to her tear stained cheeks.

"Where you lived before you moved here?" I couldn't help but interrupt. She had only spoken of the place she had lived before she moved next door a handful of times and most of those times had been when she first moved here.

"Yeah." She nodded her head in response as she used the sleeve of her shirt to wipe away the tears that were still falling.

She took in a deep breath and let out a shaky one as if she wasn't ready to say what she wanted to say. In hopes of encouraging her I began rubbing small circles on her back. This seemed to work as she leaned further into me.

"We moved because my mum died, my dad hated the me,oth and moved somewhere else." She breathed out uneasily as she choked on more tears. To say that I was shocked by her confession would be an understatement. "Yesterday was her birthday, she would be forty this year. My dad took me to see her grave for the first time, I hadn't even gone to her funeral because he wouldn't let me. Since he had let me go see her for the first time I assumed that he would finally tell me how she died but he refused to and forced me in the car and back here."

All this time I have hated Arleigh for her highly built walls and constant secrets but now I realise she had ever right to. Only now do I realise that she has true horrors in her past that I would never understand. She had lost her mother and didn't even know what had happened to her. She didn't have something as simple as closure.

So many questions were running through my mind but I didn't know how to ask them or if I should ask them. Arleigh was finally letting it all out, right now wasn't the time to interrogate her.

"He never used to be like this. We were a very happy family but when my mum died he changed so much. I lost both my parents and I don't even know why or how." She continued to sob.

Not knowing what to say I allow my head to drop to her shoulder as I let out a deep sigh. I want to know what had changed, why is she telling me all this now but obviously it isn't the right time.

"I want you to help me find out." For the first time since I got here, when I look to Arleigh she is looking back at me. My insides clench at the sight of how broken she looks and I promise myself that I will help her no matter what.

***

Turning around abruptly I make my way back to my bed and attach my lips to Layla's. She seems thrown off by my sudden action but is quick to react.

To be honest I can't remember how man rounds we went or how long we lasted all I know was that for hours I kept trying and trying to forget Arleigh until I realised I couldn't. I needed to finally except the fact that there is no possible way for me to forget Arleigh because I don't want to. For the last six years she has been my best friend and girlfriend for three and a half of those years. I saw her every single day and I wouldn't have had it any other way. A part of me doesn't want to forget Arleigh because I still have hope that things will return to what they once were. How am I supposed to move on when I am still clinging on to the past?

A knock came at my bedroom door followed by the door swinging open. Aaliyah hurries into my room only to let out a horrified scream causing me to cock my head to see her.

"Ewh, I just saw your butt!" She cried out.

"Aaliyah get out!" I yell as I try to cover myself from my sisters eyes. I heard the door slam shut and when I looked back at where Aaliyah had been standing I find that she was gone.

"Arleigh's here to see you." Aaliyah calls through the door causing my whole body to freeze. Did I hear Aaliyah wrong? I must have. Arleigh wouldn't come to see me, she had no reason to. She has a restraining order against me. Why would she approach me?

However without hesitation I jump up from my bed and pull the closest thing I can find on which is a pair of old grey sweatpants and a dirty white tee shirt. When I pull open the door Aaliyah is still standing there and seems shocked by how quick I was. Following her down the stairs attempting to fix up my messed up hair. Sure enough when I am down stairs Arleigh is standing awkwardly in the entrance hall right next to the door as if she was making sure she was close enough to an exit if she needed to escape.

Once I am in plain sight and Arleigh's eyes fall on me I stop running and walk slowly. I don't know what to say or how to approach her. A million thoughts are running through my mind and it feels good. I'm excited.

With one more step I'm standing right in front of Arleigh looking down at her, my heart is fluttering and I want to confess to her how much I have missed her. I want to cry and tell her that I'm sorry for what I did and everything I put her through. I just want to wrap my arms around her and hold her close. She stares back at me blankly adding to the pressure. This is my last shot and I can't afford to mess it up.

Just as I open my mouth to speak heavy footsteps from upstairs can be heard hurrying down the stairs. Both mine and Arleigh's gazes turn towards the stairs where we find Layla hurrying down with nothing but one of my tee shirts on. Layla is about to approach us but Aaliayh who is standing at the end of the hall, hiding hopelessly behind the wall ears dropping, pulls her to a stop. Quickly I turn back to Arleigh to find her looking else where. I want to know what is going through her mind. I want to apologise and tell her that Layla means nothing to me, that Arleigh is all I ever think about. But instead I stay silent. I don't know how to speak, or how I would say it.

"Um, I need your help." She mumbles sheepishly as she keeps her attention on the floorboards. When I don't respond she finally looks up at me again and continues. "Mitch is drunk and he showed up at my house. I need him gone before my dad comes home. He will go crazy if he sees Mitch." Arleigh's voice is a lot softer than I remember, she also seems more timid then she used to be. Well at least around me she was always a little more laid back and confident.

It's Saturday. Meaning Mitch went to his parents today and is now drunk. What doesn't make sense is why would he show up at Arleigh's place? The only time he ever stepped foot in that house was that night. He has no reason to go back, besides he hates Arleigh. Maybe this was his plot at seeking revenge.

Still unable to find my words I nod my head and follow Arleigh out the door sliding on an old pair of sneakers that I had left outside by the door.

Just as we are making our way down the drive Layla comes after us but I tell her to go back inside. I don't want her around Arleigh, or me while I am with Arleigh.

The walk is a tense silence but I still can't help but feel giddy about the fact that Arleigh came to me, she still wants to come to me! After everything that happened we might still have a chance.

As we walk through the house painful memories fill my mind of that night,I hadn't been in this house all that much and the strongest memory I have is of me running through these halls hopping to get away from that dreaded mess that I had caused. I try to push the thought away as we make our way to the lounge room where sure enough Mitch is sprawled out on the lounge looking as though he was about to pass out. Pulling him up I can't help but groan in irritation at the situation. Why did Mitch have to be such a wreck? As a kid he was great and sure he might have been a bit of a dick in middle school but now he's a full blown wreck of an asshole. He was becoming worse and worse to deal with.

As I walk through the front door Aaliyah gives me a questioning look when she notices I'm pulling along Mitch. Mitch hasn't set foot in this house for six months, she probably thought we weren't friends anymore. Well we are barley friends now compared to when we were kids.

tag list: @honeypotmendes @illuminatedestiny @youllbemineandillbeyours@justanotherfangirl272 @clarissityy @bianca-warriorwriter

#shawn mendes #shawn mendes imagines #shawn mendes imagine #shawn mendes angst #shawn mendes story #shawn mendes series #shawn mendes fanfic #shawn mendes fanfiction #shawn mendes x ofc #shawn mendes fic #shawn mendes fiction #shawn mendes oneshot #shawn mendes fluff #shawn mendes blurbs #shawn mendes blurb

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bloomsoftly · 7 years

Text

can’t get you (out of my head)

a thank you/birthday fic for @phoenix-173. happy birthday, lady! ❤️❤️❤️

pairing: darcy/bucky (wintershock) rating: g (mild cursing) word count: 6041

(a million thanks to @ragwitch for her mad beta skills. xoxo)

The twins met her at the front door, which wasn’t particularly unusual. When she peered closer at their little faces, however, she could see that Wanda’s eyes were still red from her tears, and her cheeks were all ruddy. She clung to Darcy’s legs, not even waiting for her to drop her backpack by the door. Pietro was hugging himself, eyes on the floor. “Hi, guys,” she greeted, reaching out to Pietro with a cautious hand. Most of the time he loved to cuddle with her, but on bad days he tended to need a little extra space. When he folded himself along her hip without hesitation, she breathed a silent sigh of relief. “Is everything okay?” Pietro nodded against her hip, but didn’t speak. For once, it was Wanda who took the lead. She pressed herself along Darcy’s other side and mumbled into her hip, “Can we go to the park, Darce?” Above their heads, face tilted to the ceiling so they couldn’t see her, Darcy closed her eyes in worry. She hummed noncommittally. “Where’s Miss Ella?” Their foster mom should know what was going on, at the very least. At her question, both grips tightened against her clothes, and she had to gently pry them loose. That was one question answered. They stayed behind as she walked down the entryway, two tiny, forlorn figures in the cold light of a fall afternoon. Ellen was bracing her cell phone between her shoulder and her cheek when Darcy walked into the kitchen. She turned slightly at the sound of shoes scuffing against the tile, smiling absently in Darcy’s general direction. “Hold on a second, Marsha.” Cupping her hand over the receiver, she said, “Hey, Darce. Can you take the twins to the park or something? They've been driving me crazy ever since they got home.” She didn't wait for an answer before turning back around. “Sorry, girl. No, not the little ones. That was the teenager. No, I know, the joys of parenting—” On that note, Darcy decided it was best if she went ahead and left. Sighing a little, she turned back the way she’d come. “Sure. I'll take the kids to the park.” She didn’t wait for the older woman to respond; it would be a waste of effort, anyway. Luckily, the kids lost some of their anxiety as they walked down the quiet streets. Wanda even skipped a little as she tried to keep up with Darcy’s stride. Her brother was still a little clingier than usual, although there was a faint smile on his face by the time they actually got to the park. As was their routine, they headed straight for the swings. She'd come here often enough with them that they'd all worked out a system. They might only be seven years old, but the twins had a very keen eye for equality and proportions, and wouldn't hesitate to let Darcy know if she was pushing one of them a little too often. Pietro got bored faster than his sister, and pretty soon he was zipping around the perimeter of the playground, arms stretched wide and making zooming airplane noises. Darcy watched him from the corner of one eye as she pushed Wanda on the swing. Checking to make sure the little girl was still entertained, she tried to broach the sore subject from earlier. “Wanda…do you wanna tell me what happened earlier that upset Piet and made you cry?” A faint sniffle drifted up from the little girl’s general direction, but she didn't look up at Darcy. “Not really.” Which meant that there was no way she was going to tell her anything. If Pietro was the daring, reckless twin, Wanda made up for it with her stubbornness.

“Alright.” She huffed a resigned laugh and decided to try again—with the other twin—later. Speaking of which, Pietro zoomed past them, deeper into the park. “What's that?” he yelled, taking off at a sprint. Muffling a curse, Darcy plucked Wanda from the swing and they took off after him. The little girl giggled as they ran, laughter echoing through the empty air. “Piet, what are you doing? You're not supposed to run off like that! Oh—” She came to a screeching halt, realizing exactly what her little brother had gotten himself into. He was staring up at the bemused, sweaty form of Bucky Barnes, the running back on her school’s football team. He was breathing hard, propped up against a tire— the kind that professional football players used in the movies. She stared like an idiot, completely dumbstruck. Bucky stared back, equally silent. A soft clearing of the throat had Darcy turning around. “Hey, Darcy.” “Steve!” She spun with a relieved smile, glad that her tongue had finally come unglued from the roof of her mouth. “How are you?” “I'm good,” he replied with a gently mocking grin. “Those are odd clothes to be wearing for a run through the park.” Looking down at her skinny jeans and chunky sweater, Darcy huffed. At the reminder, she turned to her little brother. “Piet, you know you can't go running off like that.” The boy scuffed his shoe against the grass and scowled. Sensing an oncoming tantrum, Wanda abandoned ship and headed straight for Steve, climbing up onto the bench next to him to peer over his shoulder. Bemused, he tilted his notebook so that she could see whatever he'd been drawing before they’d rudely interrupted. The sweet, considerate action earned him a grin and a pat on the cheek from Wanda, and Darcy had to stifle a smile. She turned back to Pietro and Bucky, only to find them in a strange kind of standoff. Bucky looked amused, thankfully, while Pietro stared up at him with a strange mix of defiance and awe. As Darcy stepped closer, Bucky’s eyes darted to her. “I'm sorry we interrupted your workout, Bucky,” she said, ignoring the way his eyes widened at her use of his name. Had he thought that she didn't know who he was? Because if so, that was ridiculous.

(read more link here)

“No, that’s okay,” he replied with a grin. It was a little dorky, and she was embarrassed that her heart raced at the sight of it. After a year and a half, she was supposed to be over this stupid crush—she’d never even talked to him before. He glanced away before she could figure out what to say next, back toward Pietro. With a friendly smile, he leaned down so that he was closer to the little boy’s level. “Hi, there. I’m Bucky.” Pietro’s frown was mulish, and again Darcy wondered what had happened at school. He wasn’t usually this hostile, not even to strangers. Huffing, he rolled his eyes. “I know. Darcy said your name like five seconds ago. Are you deaf or something?” “Pietro!” Darcy stared at him, aghast. He flinched away from her angry stare, but Bucky drew the boy’s attention back to him with a mild laugh. “Yeah, I guess she did, didn’t she? I was just trying to be polite. Your name is Pietro?” Ducking his chin, the little boy nodded cautiously. The older boy squatted down to bring himself to Pietro’s level. Worried that another rude comment was about to be made, Darcy hovered close by. She tried not to get distracted by the way the dry, cool sweat was causing goosebumps to break out over Bucky’s naked torso, but it was tough.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Pietro.” He stuck out a hand between them, waiting patiently as the younger boy eyed him up and down. Eventually, Pietro stuck his hand out to shake.

“Maybe we should let Bucky get back to his—” she trailed off, not sure what to call it, but the boy in question shot her a quick grin and shook his head immediately. “No, it’s okay. I needed a break anyway.” His attention immediately drifted back to Pietro, leaving her to awkwardly stand there. Deciding that she didn’t need to referee their bonding time, Darcy turned to head toward Wanda and Steve. The little girl was watching him as he sketched, tongue stuck out in concentration as if she was the one with the pencil pressed to the page. Other than a glance in her direction every now and then, Steve ignored the intrusion. A slight grin tugged at the corner of his mouth, though, so at least she wasn’t being a total nuisance. As Darcy plopped down on the bench, Wanda abandoned her observation post and came around to sit next to her. Steve’s eyes darted up from his drawing, but the little girl was completely focused on Bucky and her brother. Trust gained, Pietro had moved on to quizzing Bucky about his exercises, while the teenager bore his curiosity with grace.

“He got his name right,” Wanda said, glancing up at Darcy to make sure she'd heard.

She had, although she had no idea why that was important.

“What?” With a tiny huff, Wanda slid across the bench until she was halfway in the older girl’s lap. Rolling her eyes, Darcy heaved her up until Wanda was fully settled across her legs; even after several years with her; the twins had trouble asking for what they wanted outright. Leaning against her older sister, content to settle in one place for the moment, Wanda repeated her simple statement.

“He got Pietro’s name right.” There was a weight of importance to her words that Darcy didn't understand—until all of a sudden the lightbulb went off and she understood what Wanda was trying to tell her. Squeezing the young girl gently, she murmured, “Have the other kids been giving Piet a hard time?” Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve's head shoot up from his drawing, but she ignored it. At Wanda’s nod, she sighed.

“I'll talk to him, sestrica.” Her horrible accent made Wanda giggle, as she'd intended. “But the kids who make fun of your names or your accents are just mean, scared bullies. Okay? There's nothing wrong with you. It's them who are the problem.” Wanda shifted, hiding her face against Darcy’s neck. Across the field, Bucky looked over at them in concern. Darcy met his eyes over Wanda’s back and smiled. After a moment of hesitation, gaze darting between her expression and the defensive posture of the girl, Bucky tentatively smiled back. Pietro followed his gaze and immediately stopped working on the exercises Bucky had been teaching him.

“But it's not fair, Darce.” Her voice hit a high wine, and Pietro’s eyebrows furrowed when he heard it. Darcy’s heart clenched, and she could only whisper a soft, “I know.” Not for the first time, Darcy wished that Ellen was more interested in being an actual mom to the kids. Instead, soothing the distraught child would fall to her. She was supposed to be a child herself, she thought with a healthy dose of self-pity. Not that she'd had the opportunity to be one for many years. They said their goodbyes quickly; both Pietro and Darcy could feel a full-on Wanda meltdown coming, and it was always best to be home for that. Steve, having overheard the quiet conversation between the two girls, let them leave with nothing more than a commiserating smile and a soft wave—which Darcy was pleased to note that Wanda returned. But as they turned to go, Bucky deliberately stepped into their path. Not threatening, but enough to draw her attention. “Everything good, Darce?” Stubbornly suppressing a shudder at the way the nickname rolled off his tongue, she nodded and hummed. “Mhmm. It's just time to get these little munchkins home before they get too tired.” “I'm not a munchkin,” Pietro grumbled as he took her hand. Wanda didn't say anything at all, which only served to prove Darcy’s point. Darcy ruffled her brother’s hair but didn't say anything. Bucky shifted uneasily in front of her, and she curiously glanced back up to catch his eye. “We were—are, uh—are gonna do something later. Maybe grab dinner or something? If you want to come.” It took her a second to realize he was inviting her to hang out with them some more, and the question made Darcy’s heart soar. When she didn't respond right away, Bucky added, “Stevie’s gonna be there, too, of course. It'd be the three of us. If you want.” She opened her mouth to say yes—don’t shout, Darce, act cool, oh my god this is the best thing that has ever happened to you—and then Pietro shifted against her hip. Realization swept over her, and she had to close her eyes for a second to hide the tears of frustration that were gathering at the corners of her eyelids.

“I’d love to—but,” she sputtered, coughed, then tried again, staring at the ground. “I wish I could. But I can’t. I’m sorry.” With her eyes lowered, she didn’t see Bucky’s reaction to her words. His face was frozen when she dared to look up; the silence had stretched too long. “Right. Right, of course,” he finally said. She wanted to explain, to spill everything about Ellen and Wanda and Pietro, but she couldn’t. She refused to hurt the twins’ feelings or make them feel like a burden, not even to save her social life. “See you later,” she murmured, stepping around him. He didn’t say anything at all. The trip home was quiet, the silence heavy. Instead of going out to dinner with Steve and the boy she’d been crushing on for almost two years, she made dinner for Pietro and Wanda and made sure to sit down with them afterward. In a soft tone, she talked to them about the bullies at school; as gently as she could, she repeated what she’d said to Wanda to her brother (and resolved to put a thought or two into Ellen’s head—something that would get the woman over to their school to do something about it). They cuddled for hours afterward, until the twins dropped off to sleep curled around her. As she stared down at their peaceful faces, Darcy couldn’t bring herself to regret her choice. Still, she couldn’t hold back a lonely tear or two as she drifted off to sleep in her own bed, several doors down from the kids who relied on her so much. -:- Unsurprisingly, after their fun afternoon with Steve and Bucky, the twins pestered her to take them to the park almost every day. Every time she caved, the teenage boys were there: Bucky working up a sweat with his conditioning workouts (that, Pietro had informed her haughtily after several more visits to the park, was the proper term for it) and Steve sketching away at his bench. Honestly, Darcy didn't even time their playtime at the park to match the boys’; well, at least not after their first return visit. She might've lingered a little too long on her hair and her clothes as she faced the prospect of seeing Bucky again. When they got there, though, he barely spared her a second glance. Oh, he did the polite hello and the wave, even offering up a tight-lipped grin, but he turned away to Pietro immediately. She was left to trek over to slouch next to Steve, who was staring at his friend with something akin to exasperation. Steve was sweet, though. He put up with her novice questions about drawing and showed her some of his work. Over time, she lost herself in the conversation, no longer quite so focused on ignoring the fact that Bucky was ignoring her. She was so immersed in it, in fact, that she jumped in surprise when Bucky plunked his workout gear on the table with a loud thump. “It's time to go, Stevie.” From her position at his shoulder, Darcy could see the tips of Steve's ears burn red with anger. Deciding it would be smart to head home before she and the twins got caught in the middle of an argument between the friends, she stood up and checked the time on her phone. “Oh wow, you're right. Wanda, Piet, it's time for us to go home. Thanks for putting up with me, Steve.” Ignoring the tension between the friends, she smiled and clapped him on the shoulder as she passed. “It's no problem, Darce. I like hanging out with you.” As she passed, Darcy offered a slight head nod to Bucky, her feelings still hurt from his brush off. “See you around, Bucky.” “See ya,” was his gruff response. Then, before she was even out of earshot, “Really, Stevie? ‘Darce’?”

Humiliation and anger mingled in her chest at his tone, and she resolved to get over the last holdout of her crush as quickly as possible. It wasn’t supposed to hurt like this. -:- The next four or five times they ran into the boys weren't much better. Bucky ignored her very existence while Steve went out of his way to make her feel welcome. The combination was more than enough to give a girl whiplash, and more than once she wished she could've fallen for Steve instead of his best friend. The last straw, though, was when Bucky started talking about another girl at their school. “Peggy? Now that’s a girl worth talking to. Hot as hell, and one of the smartest women I know. If you’re not gonna ask her out, Stevie, I might. Just imagine—” “On that note, we’re going to go.” Maybe she should apologize for cutting him off, but Darcy’d had quite enough. She stood up abruptly, packing the twins’ snacks back into her backpack. They stared at her in confusion, then slowly followed suit. Bucky fell silent for half a second, staring at her with a strange mix of anger and satisfaction. “What, Lewis? Don’t have the balls to hear nice things about another girl? That’s not very feminist of you, is it?” She whirled on him, leaning into his space with a seething anger so potent he jerked backward. Another time she might’ve laughed or crowed with triumph (she wasn’t some timid little girl, she knew how to spit fire). Instead, she met his eyes squarely and let him see her disgust. He swallowed heavily in the face of it. “The twins are seven. Seven. And forgive me for assuming that you were about to start talking about Peggy Carter’s assets and what you might do to them, if you got the chance. Which, by the way, would never happen. She’d never give an asshole like you the time of day—not with the way you talk about girls. So, yeah. I’m leaving. I don’t want to risk the chance that Pietro will turn out like you.” Her voice was low and icy, soft enough that she knew the twins wouldn’t overhear. A myriad of emotions flitted across Bucky’s face—shame was a predominant one, she noted with satisfaction—but Darcy didn’t stick around to hear what he’d say next. With a final parting glance at Steve, who was staring between them with horrified fascination, she took the kids’ hands and walked away. “Let me know if you want to hang out sometime, Steve.” The implication was clear—they wouldn’t be coming back. -:- Once her initial anger had faded, Darcy’s biggest worry was having to explain to the twins that they wouldn’t be going back to the park for a while. Help came from an unexpected corner, however; Ellen fell into one of her great-mom phases, where she was one hundred percent dedicated to meeting all of the kids’ needs. Even Darcy’s, which the teenager generally tried to avoid at all costs. In this case, though, it was a good distraction for Wanda and Pietro. By the time they even thought to ask about the park again, a month had gone by. Their renewed interest in Steve and Bucky was brought about by the Queen of Meddling herself, Natasha. Nat was a little older than Darcy—another foster kid who’d been in the system, though she’d since turned eighteen and transitioned to adulthood as flawlessly as she did everything else—but they’d been best friends as long as Darcy could remember. Wanda and Pietro loved her, and she had a knack for showing up exactly when Darcy needed her the most. When she rang the doorbell on a blustery day in October, mischievous smirk firmly in place and Clint shaking his head frantically over her shoulder, Darcy wanted to slam the door in her face. It was too late; the twins had already spotted their beloved Auntie Nat. In less than ten minutes, she was leading a mutiny. “Steve says you’re avoiding him.” “What? No, of course I’m not.”

The twins glanced back and forth between them, like they were watching a tennis match. “Oh, really? According to him, you talked about hanging out with him but now avoid him everytime he tries to say hello.” “I do not!” Nat’s expression was flat and disbelieving, and she slowly quirked an eyebrow. “I don't…always?” Catching on to the game, Wanda blinked innocently. “Are we going to the park today to see Steve?” On cue, Pietro perked up. “And Bucky, too?” Clint shot Darcy a commiserating look but shrugged, pulling his best ‘I tried to warn you’ face. Half an hour later, they were at the park. She'd dragged her feet as best she could, but there was no stopping Nat—especially when she had Wanda and Piet on her side. Darcy's last hope was that in the month or so that she hadn't been to the park, Steve and Bucky’s routine had changed and they magically wouldn't be there. Things always seemed to work out in Natasha's favor, though, and Darcy had learned long ago never to bet against her. Sure enough, the boys were at the park. They turned in the direction of the noisy group as soon as they rounded the curve of the path. Steve's face split into an immediate welcome, and he dropped his charcoal to the paper and stood to say hello. Bucky, oddly, looked a little shy. He met Darcy's gaze for the briefest of moments before glancing away. She ignored it; having spent the last month forcing herself to get over her crush, Darcy wasn't interested in analyzing Bucky's every move. Instead, she moved toward Steve. “Hey, Steve. I'm sorry for, uh, everything.” She waved her hand in a vague motion through the air, hoping he'd understand what she meant. “Things have been a little…busy…lately.” “Uh-uh. Really busy.” His flat look could rival Natasha’s. Seriously, they were both that talented. “It had absolutely nothing to do with my best friend being a royal jackass the last time you guys came out to the park.” She floundered for something to say—anything, really, that wasn't an outright lie or a confirmation of how badly Bucky had hurt her feelings. Help came from an unexpected quarter: Darcy was saved from having to answer by Wanda, who was clearly anxious to go through all of Steve's drawings. “Stevie, what new drawings do you have? I want to see everything.” With the loss of a couple teeth, Wanda had recently developed a slight lisp. It was adorable, and Steve absolutely melted when he heard it. Sensing an opportunity to sneak away, Darcy made her way over to Clint. Nat’s boyfriend was a bit dorky, but an easy guy to be around. She especially liked that he didn't feel the need to fill the silence; they sat together on the bench without a word, watching the others. Pietro had joined his sister in examining Steve's art (they were oohing and ahhing over the drawings, and Darcy even thought she heard a critique or two thrown in there), abandoning Bucky to an intense conversation with Natasha. They sat quietly for a long time, a silent oasis between the cheerful noises of Steve entertaining the twins and Bucky and Nat’s quiet bickering. Darcy and Clint were sat on the opposite side of the bench, so she couldn’t hear what Nat was saying to Bucky. Neither of them looked happy, although they were standing awfully close. Shooting a curious glance at Clint to see if he was bothered by his girlfriend’s proximity to the other guy, Darcy discovered that he was already looking at her with wry amusement. “Careful there, Darce. Your jealous face is showing,” he said, voice low enough that no one would overhear. He knocked his shoulder into hers gently. “I’d almost think you like Barnes, after all.” She sputtered and stuck her nose in the air. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” “Mhmm.” He rolled his eyes, laughing outright as her eyes drifted back to the other pair. It was ridiculous—and jealous, he was right—but she couldn’t seem to help it. This time, it wasn’t just Clint who saw her. Bucky was already looking in her direction, and his eyes widened as Darcy’s gaze met his. He took a faltering step in her direction, and she immediately looked away. When she snuck another look, she caught sight of Natasha’s expression.

Her friend looked irritated at Bucky’s lack of attention, until she followed his gaze to Darcy. Behind his back, her face adopted a smug look. Clint saw it, too.

“You’re in for it, now,” he murmured. He opened his mouth to say more, but fell silent as a shadow crept over them. “Heya, Darce.” Bucky plopped down in the seat next to her with an easy confidence that was belied by his uneasy expression. “Bucky.” She turned back to Clint after offering her terse greeting, but he was already moving away. “Sorry, Darce. Nat wants to talk to me about something. Hey, Barnes. Don’t be a dick.” And with that warning, he sauntered off in the general direction of his girlfriend. Thanks, Clint. Darcy snuck a glance at Bucky and was surprised to find that a dull flush was creeping across his cheekbones. “So, uhh—hey.” He rubbed a hand across the back of his neck, no longer the cool, arrogant boy he’d been the last time she saw him. It was a nice change, quite frankly. “Hey.” Her wariness was clear, she knew, because his face fell as she uttered the single word. “Listen, I’m—I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Darcy. You were right and I was rude last time you were here. And, uhh—I had no right to take my bad mood out on you that day.” He fell silent, fidgeting with the hem of his shirt as he waited for her to respond. “Yeah, you were a dick.” He sucked in a breath, but she wasn’t done. “But we all have those days. We’re cool, Bucky.” “Yeah?” His smile could serve as a backup type of solar power, she thought. Which was a dumb thing to think, but she couldn’t seem to help it. She lost all chill when he looked at her like that. “Yeah.” “So, uhh—” Whatever he was going to say was cut off by the sudden arrival of Natasha, who plopped down in Clint’s recently-vacated spot. “Darcy.” Bucky rolled his eyes as Nat claimed her attention, but didn’t say anything against it. “Yes, Nat?” “Clint and I are gonna grab dinner later. You in?” “I can’t,” she replied slowly, narrowing her eyes at her friend. Nat knew exactly what Darcy was doing after the park, because she had been responsible for taking care of the twins almost as long as they’d been living with Ellen. Even when their foster mom was in her super-mom moods, Darcy was responsible for making sure Pietro and Wanda had dinner almost every night. Natasha even helped out every now and then, which was why she was suspicious. So, unless her friend had suddenly developed amnesia… Nat stared at her, assessing, then rolled her eyes in realization. “Ellen still won’t spring for an actual babysitter, huh?” It was an act, that much was clear. But why was Natasha acting? With her back to him, Darcy didn’t see Bucky stiffen and close his eyes in pained realization. She did spot Wanda and Pietro, though, as they tuned in to Nat’s question. She hadn’t bothered to lower her voice, too caught up in whatever point she’d been trying to make. “I happen to like making dinner for Wanda and Piet, Natasha.” Nat’s gaze shot back to her—she’d been staring over Darcy's shoulder—at the use of her full name. She blinked in the face of Darcy’s palpable anger; it clearly wasn’t part of whatever plan she’d concocted. The twins’ feelings were more important than figuring Nat out, though, so Darcy stood up from the bench without another word to her. “Speaking of which, it’s probably time for us to head back, kiddos. Dinner won’t cook itself.” The twins were quiet in their goodbyes, and Nat finally understood what she’d inadvertently done. As a former foster kid, she knew how sensitive the children could be. She murmured a quiet, but sincere, apology in Darcy’s ear and gripped her shoulder lightly. Darcy squeezed back: it was a mistake, but an honest one. Luckily, it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed with a home-cooked dinner and some cuddles before bedtime. She said goodbye to Bucky and Steve, too, though she hardly noticed. Her full attention was on her munchkins and their needs.

-:- After that trip to the park, Darcy’s routine shifted again. The tentative truce with Bucky bloomed into a true friendship, until they spent most of the time at the park talking and laughing with each other. When Piet wasn’t convincing Bucky to help him with his ‘conditioning,’ of course. Steve watched the pair of them with amusement but never accused her of stealing his best friend, so Darcy figured he was alright with the new development. If anything, he seemed to encourage it. Darcy found herself with new lunch companions at school—the three of them piled into Bucky’s car to snag some food during their lunch breaks. From there, it seemed natural for Bucky to offer to drive her home from school. It wasn’t very fun to ride the bus as a senior, so she agreed immediately. And although the trips to the park continued without a hitch—Steve, Bucky, Darcy, the twins, and sometimes Nat and Clint—Steve started riding home with a friend more and more often. She pulled him aside one day, wanting to make sure she wasn’t intruding, but he’d only waved her off. Apparently, Sam and Bucky were frenemies and Sam got a little jealous if he didn’t get to spend enough time with Steve. Which was a little strange for a platonic friendship, she thought, but didn’t say anything. And then one day Darcy overheard people gossiping about her relationship with Bucky. They weren’t even being mean—the girls were talking about what a cute couple they made, and had no idea Darcy was in one of the bathroom stalls—but it completely threw her for a loop. She hadn’t realized—hadn’t even allowed herself to hope. She was still thinking about it as she walked out of her classroom to find that Bucky had been waiting for her to get out of Physics. It had become routine, now, for him to fall into step beside her and her lab partner. Normally she only half-noticed his presence as she and Jane dissected the major points of Mr. Selvig’s lesson. Today, though, all she could think about was the rumors, about the way they looked to everyone else in school. Jane squeezed her arm and offered a commiserating grin, then drifted off down the hallway to meet her boyfriend. She and Thor were sickeningly cute, and he drove her home from school every day. “Hey, Bucky,” she said belatedly, tucking a curl behind her ear. “Hey, Darce. How was physics?” With a quiet chuckle, she told him about her teacher’s latest absentminded silliness—Mr. Selvig was a genius but very loopy, and a great favorite amongst the students—and asked about his day. They chattered about little things, nothing important, as they made their way to the parking lot. Darcy felt as though every eye was on them, even though they weren’t doing anything different from any other day, and chastised herself for being skittish. The drive home was easier. When it was just the two of them, she felt more comfortable basking in his easy affection and good humor. As they pulled up to her house, though, the air got awkward and heavy. “Wait.” She paused in the act of unbuckling her seatbelt, staring down at his hand on her arm, before looking up at him curiously. He pulled it back immediately, reaching up to rake a hand through his hair nervously. Running his tongue over his bottom lip—do not get distracted, Darcy, now is not the time—he opened and shut his mouth a couple of times, working his jaw in frustration. “Bucky? Are you okay?” He nodded, then coughed. Then licked his lips again. “Yeah.” Wincing a little as his voice cracked, he shook his head and tried again. “Yeah. Umm. Umm—what are you doing for dinner?” “Making it for the twins, as always. Did you want to come in?” Bucky and Steve had done that a couple of times, joined them for dinner, though Ellen’s over-the-top flirting had made them unbearably uncomfortable. “No, uh, that’s okay. Thanks. What about Saturday?” “You mean, what am I doing for dinner on Saturday?” He nodded, but didn’t speak. She was starting to get a little concerned at the look on his face. Her heart thumped erratically in her chest, but she was afraid to hope. “Well, I guess the same thing. The twins have to eat, and I can’t count on Ellen to feed them.” “You could count on Steve,” he blurted. “Yeah, I could. But I don’t have plans, so…” “But if you did have plans. You could count on Steve.” “I could,” she agreed, examining his face. “I’m making a mess of this, aren’t I?” He sighed, scrubbing a slightly-shaking hand over his face. “A little.” Darcy took his hand, prying it away from his face so that she could see his expression clearly. He twisted it mid-motion, so that his palm slid against hers and their fingers tangled together. Her breath caught in her throat, and she could barely hear his next words over the blood rushing to her head. Hope beat its battered wings against her lungs. “Darcy. Would you like to go out with me on Saturday? I’ve been wanting to ask you for months. Since before my stupid punk ass comments in the park.” Before she could even respond, he blurted, “I’ve had a crush on your for years, and I just—I just—yeah.” It felt better than she could’ve imagined. A grin split across her face, and it found its mirror in his. They smiled at each other like complete idiots, holding hands across the console, before she remembered that he was still waiting on an answer. Hunting for courage, she leaned across to place a lingering kiss against his cheek. His eyes tracked her movements, and he froze at the contact. She didn’t even think he was breathing, and she nudged his ribs lightly as a reminder. “I would love that, Bucky. See you tomorrow.” He finally sucked in a breath as she unbuckled and slid out of the car. The window squeaked as it rolled down. She grinned and turned back. A guarded happiness shone in his expression, as if he was afraid to hope. What a pair they were. “You mean it, Darce?” “Yeah, dude. I’ve had a crush on you, too. A couple of years, in fact. So let’s not screw it up, okay?” Blowing him a kiss, she turned back around. She couldn’t help but add an extra sway to her hips as she walked, not that she thought he’d mind. “We won’t!” It was the last thing he said before the door to her house open and the twins spilled out to greet her. Pietro and Wanda had been watching for her arrival, and they tumbled out the door with excitement, all bundled up and wanting to go to the park to see their Steve and Bucky. Well, their Steve. Her Bucky.

#wintershock #darcy x bucky #darcyland #thank you fic #happy birthday nix!

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stripestheboar · 7 years

Text

Day 27 - Mettalphys (Undertale)

I like these two.

Pairing: Mettalphys (Mettaton/Alphys)

Word Count: 1,308

Alphys hummed to herself softly, picking up her pencil to make a few more lines on the sketch, occasionally looking back up at the TV to get a glance at the tall, slim cartoon characternok screen. It was nice, but… it wasn’t exactly what she was looking for. If she knew her friend, she knew he was a bit more picky than the average monster. She erased a few unsatisfactory features, letting out a sigh as she pressed play on the anime, deciding to just watch the rest of it before finishing the rough draft.

Just as she was getting into the epic fight scene, she heard something move somewhere. She paused the episode on her computer, still for a moment. Had she really just heard that? She stared at the direction of the noise in silence, listening closely. Sure enough, there was a bump in the upstairs lab where her bed was. Her soul sank for a moment as she stared up at the escalator. One of the amalgamates must have gotten loose, for that was her only explanation.

Steeling her nerves, she got up and grabbed a scoop of dog food in a cup, slowly making her way to the quickly moving escalator. He got on, her fear rising as she dreaded what she would find upstairs.

As soon as she reached the second floor, she looked around wildly for the culprit, but there was none to be seen. She wasn’t fooled, though, since he amalgams were more than talented at disguising themselves as anything they wanted; she just needed to see which item had a copy. She began scouring the upper floor, looking for anything suspicious or out of place. She found it quicker than she though, however, because out of the blue, a book flew from the shelf. She screamed in momentary shock, watching the book float around instead of dropping, twirling in the air like it had been possessed by a- oh.

“Ooooh, Aaaalphyyyyyys!” the book sang in a mock-ominous cry. “When is my boooody reaaaaaady?” Alphys just dropped the cup with a relieved and tired sigh. “By god you s-scared me,” she breathed. “Wh-what the heck is wrong with you?”

There was a laugh and the book dropped from the air. Soon enough, the familiar rectangular robot wheeled up the escalator, hands on his sides. “Sorry for the crude joke, darling,” he chuckled, “but what else can I do when all you do is sit around watching your cartoons?” Alphys gave a little huff, bending down to sweep the spilt dogs food back into the cup. “I’ll have you know that the cartoons I watch are strictly for research,” she defended. “Uh huh,” Mettaton spoke, unconvinced as he crossed his arms. “Alphys, hon, that may work for every monster under the ground, but the day I start falling for it, too is the day I no longer want to live.” Alphys gave a grimace as she made her way back to the first floor. “Now now, I’m serious this time,” she insisted, watching Mettaton follow her movements from the upper balcony.. “It’s ideas for your new body, I swear. In fact, I’m almost done with it! I just need to plan out parts, and that’s it.”

She quickly threw the cup of dog food into the bag, scurrying back over to the desk to grab the sketchpad to show Mettaton. The robot was already making his way downstairs at that point, and casually glided over to the computer with crossed arms. Alphys took a look at the poor sketch she had made and instantly felt a bit embarrassed by it. Art looks great up until you show it to others. Still, she showed her friend the drawing, and he paused, taking he booklet into his hands. He stared at it for a while, and Alphys could immediately feel sweat begin trickle down her face within a mere minute.

“It looks great,” the robot said simply, handing the sketchbook back. She looked dumbfounded at the comment; with how picky she knew Mettaton to be, it was a rarity for him to like something unless it was absolutely perfect. “Wait, really?” she asked, as if testing to see if this was some kind of joke he was playing again, despite jokes not exactly being his forte. “Five years we’ve known each other, darling,” he replied. “I’ve expected you know enough about me to know what I like. However, it could use a bit of work on the shoulders. And the legs. I want them long. Very long.” Alphys gave a quick nod and began jotting them all down with a slight smile, glad there was progress being made.

Mettaton looked over at the computer casually as he thought of more ideas. He was immediately drawn to the thin cartoon human paused in the air. It looked similar to the drawing he had just been shown. “Is this that ‘research’ you were on about, darling?” he asked, his curiosity at a small peak. Alphys looked up from her book and suddenly gave a large smile. “Y-yeah! That’s Saru, an android with human features that has difficulty fitting in with human life! However, he finds a love of dancing, and it shows that- spoilers- just because he’s a robot doesn’t mean he can’t feel or be happy and-“

“Alphys.”

“S-sorry!” Alphys quickly apologized, a blush spread across her face. “Got a little carried away, huh? W-would you like to watch?” Mettaton turned his screen back to the lizard monster, silent for a moment. “Fine. I suppose I can watch a movie. Just this once.”

Alphys gave a nervous laugh. “Uh…. It’s not a movie,” she explained. “It’s a show. In fact, I’m on episode fifty-six, so there’s a ways to go.”

“Wait, someone made fifty-six episodes of this junk?”

“Aaaactually there’s a hundred and sixty-two, but I swear it’s really really good!”

“Alphys, I’m not watching a hundred and sixty-two episodes of your trash!” he exasperated, before letting out an exhale. “Just start from here, okay? I’ll go as far of this.”

It wasn’t much, but Alphys would take what she could get, eagerly continuing to play the episode. She grabbed her unfinished cup of noodled, beginning to shovel a bundle of the pasta into her mouth in excitement at the episode. As it continued to play, it was clear Mettaton wasn’t all that into it, mostly though his uncharacteristic silence. The show soon got to an exciting point, and Alphys was practically bouncing in her seat in excitement that the character finally got together with the human college professor.

“Alphys,” Mettaton suddenly spoke up, catching her attention. “Hmm?” she hummed, thinking he was going to take the time to tell her how trashy the episode he was watching was. She heard it a million times before, and this would be no different.

“I know I don’t say it often but…. Thank you,” he told her, surprising her. “You’re doing all this for me and… well, I’m not the most grateful of colleagues.” There was a pause. “Thank you for helping me achieve my dreams.”

Alphys was definitely taken aback, but couldn’t help but smile as she felt her soul flutter at the rare occurrence. “Hey, we-we’re friends, right? All I ask is that you don’t forget me when you become famous,” she giggled.

“Oh believe me, I won’t, darling.”

They sat in silence for a few moments.

“You know you don’t have to pay me back by sticking through this, right,” she told him.

“Oh thank god,” he gasped, wheeling away almost immediately. “See you at my next show, darling!” She gave a small laugh. “I’ll be in the front row, Metta,” Alphys promised. With that out of the way, she went back to watching her anime by herself, but she knew she wasn’t alone.

#Mettalphys #Mettaton #Alphys #Undertale #utshippingpridemonth #shipping pride month #Day 27 #Coonfics

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hard-satin · 7 years

Text

Weaponized (4.07)

Masterlist

“Where’s Lydia?” Kira asked as she, Scott, Malia, Stiles and I stood in line for the PSAT. I was still mad that they made all the juniors come to school on a saturday for this stupid test.

“She took it her freshman year.” Stiles informed Kira who was looking around for the redhead.

“Does that mean I could have taken it some other time?” Malia asked him angrily.

“Malia, you studied harder for this than any of us.” Scott reminded her.

“Yeah, Jamie only studied with me once a week and she just happened to know everything. So even though I studied the most that doesn’t mean I’m going to do good.” She argued.

“Well.” Stiles told her.

“Well, what?” She asked him.

“It’s do well, not good.” Stiles corrected her.

“Oh, god!” Malia exclaimed even more anxious than before.

“Look Lia. I don’t know what it is about me but I can just hear some information and it stays with me. Not everyone is like that, but you’re still going to get this done.” I assured her.

“Why?” She groaned.

“You’re doing this, because while we’re trying not to die we still need to live. If I survive high school, I’d like to go to college. A good college.” Scott told her.

“It’s only three hours. We can survive three hours.” Kira pointed out.

We walked in one by one. We had to place our fingerprint on the test. Then we took a couple pencils and handed over our cell phones. There wasn’t five seats close together but we tried to pack into a close area to each other as we took our seats.

Kira, Scott, Malia, and I sat across the front row, with Stiles snagging the seat directly behind Malia. I listen patiently to the instructions the proctor gave. Then he turned to Lydia’s mom who was one of our proctors and asked where the other proctor was.

“It’s coach, he’s not exactly punctual.” Mrs. Martin informed the man. She excused herself to call coach. She came back a couple minutes later.

“I can’t find him, but Mr. Yukimura is upstairs grading papers. Do you want me to try him?” She asked.

“We have to start. We can ask for his assistance during the first break.” The man told her. He leaned over the desk and pressed a button on his watch before looking up at all of us.

“You may now open your test booklets and begin.” He instructed us. The sound of turning pages filled the air as we all began the test.

We weren’t even a whole minute into the exam before the girl sitting behind me collapsed to the floor. I groaned internally, this wasn’t looking good for the rest of us. This was the one weird thing that always meant our day would end up a struggle for survival.

“Sydney! Are you alright?” Mrs. Martin was quick to the girls side.

“I’m alright. I just got kind of dizzy.” The girl assured her. Mrs. Martin took a hold of her wrist.

“How long have you had this?” She asked the girl looking at something on the inside of her wrist.

“Mrs. Martin, do I need to stop the test?” Our head Proctor asked her.

“No, it’s fine. Everybody stay in your seats. I’ll be back in a minute.” SHe told us before heading up to the front and retrieving her phone.

“Nobody leaves the room.” She told the head proctor. I looked to the other members of the pack, they seemed as confused and concerned as I was.

“Get back! No! Do not come in here! Get back outside!” The screams came a minute or so after Mrs. Martin left the classroom. We all ran out to see what was wrong.

“Back to your seats now. Please.” She instructed us calmly, but her chemosignals were wreaking of distress. All the students filled back inside, but Scott and I stayed by the door to listen into Mrs. Martin's phone call.

“I need the number for the CDC. Yes the centers for disease control.” I heard her say into the phone. Scott and I shared a wide eyed look of panic.

Men in yellow hazmat suits were at the school within the hour. They set up plastic bubble rooms for some of the students in the test room. They put up tarps so that we couldn’t see out of the window.

“I bet they think it’s smallpox.” Stiles told Kira, Malia and I as we sat on the desks that had been pushed aside.

“Not likely. Smallpox was eradicated worldwide in 1979. We’ve only managed to completely eradicate two viruses in history. The other was rinderpest. It killed cows.” The head proctor of our exam told us in a uniquely creepy way.

“So we should be comforted by that, right?” Stiles asked him.

“Unless it’s something worse.” The man pointed out. I let out a small chuckle at his weird mannerisms.

“Whatever it is they’re taking it pretty seriously. There’s a lot of cars and trucks out there.” Malia told us. I listen in, catching the sound of a very familiar voice.

“Noah’s with them.” I told Stiles.

“I should probably call him.” Stiles said standing up and rifling through the box of cell phones on the desk.

“Don’t bother. They would have shut off any access to outside communications by now. No cell service, no wifi, no starting a panic. Looks like we’re all just going to have to wait here and see what happens.” The creepy man told him. I looked to the girls, worry etched into my face.

“Kira, do you ever get the feeling that Scott and Stiles aren’t telling you everything?” Malia asked as we stood in line. I looked at my friend in confusion. She had asked me something similar one night when we were studying.

“What do you mean?” KIra asked. Now it was her I looked at with curiosity. Her heartbeat had jumped. Was there really something that the boys had been keeping a secret.

“Like they hide stuff.” Malia elaborated.

“I think if they did they would probably have a pretty good reason.” Kira said carefully. She was definitely hiding something.

“Do you know what they’re in the bag under Scott’s bed?” Malia cut to the chase.

“What? No. I’ve never been under Scott’s bed, or in it, just on it. Wearing clothes.” Kira stuttered. Something was definitely up. I would have to remember to grill the boys about it later. Most likely Stiles he was the worst at lying to me.

“Kira Yukimura.” The tech called for Kira to step forward and give blood. Kira eyes the needle.

“I don’t like needles either, but I promise this is going to be fast.” The tech assured her. She pressed the needle to Kira’s skin, as soon as it made contact it became electrified. The tech dropped the needle.

Malia and I pulled Kira away in the mess of the other tech’s trying to get the one that was dealing with Kira out. We brought her to the bathroom where Stiles, Scott and Mr. Yukimura already were. Scott's eyes were flickering between their normal brown and alpha red. Malia and I had started sweating. Something was happening to us.

“Obviously the virus is affecting you three in a way that isn’t happening to anyone else.” Mr. Yukimura concluded.

“You guys have to stay out of sight. We have to quarantine you, form the quarantine.” Stiles told us. I looked at the claws that Malia couldn’t control as I ran my tongue over the fangs in my mouth that I couldn’t make recede.

“Yeah, but where? What if they get violent? Like on a full moon.” Kira asked looking between the three of us.

“We shouldn’t stay in here. Not a locker room.” Stiles pointed out.

“A classroom is not going to hold us.” Malia added.

“What about the basement?” Kira offered up as a solution.

“Too many ways out.” Scott shot the idea down.

“We need something secure. Somewhere nobody could find us.” I said as my breath started to become laboured.

“The vault. The Hale vault. The Hale’s always have an escape route. Like their house. There has to be another way in.” Stiles told us before running from the locker room.

Stiles returned with a blueprint of the school. He pointed to where we knew the first entrance was and sketched out about how big the vault was.

“I suppose if there was a second entrance it would probably be in the basement.” Mr. Yukimura therorised.

“It’s got to be somewhere in the west corridor.” Stiles told us before he collapsed. Scott caught him and propped him back up.

“It’s happening to you too. You’re getting sick. You all are.” Mr. Yukimura told him as he looked at the rash that had popped up on Stiles arms.

“I don’t feel sick.” Kira told her dad.

“I think it’s affecting you differently. Neurologically. I found your test answer sheet in the pile with the others.” He told her spreading out the crumpled paper on the table. Kira’s pencil marks were all over the paper.

We all raced down to the basement. Searching until Stiles found the second entrance. We gathered around it with no way in. The cracks in the wall made the shape of a triskele.

“It’s like the entrance outside. It only opens with claws. Anyone’s claws right?” Stiles asked looking to Scott.

“I’ll do it.” I volunteered stepping forward.

“No! Actually I think Malia should try.” Scott told me. I furrowed my brow at him.

“Why me?” Malia asked.

“Yeah.” I added wanting to know the answer to that question myself.

“I don’t have control and I don’t want Jamie stuck with her claws out either.” Scott told her. It was convincing enough, but something still didn’t sound right.

“Okay. I’ll do it, but first tell me what you’ve been hiding from me.” She told them. The boys looked between each other, neither one of them saying a word.

“I know you think you’re protecting me but I can handle it. I know I’m on the list.” She finally told them. They looked relieved. It seemed more like she had given them a cover up then provoking them to tell her the truth.

“Yes.” Stiles said in a way that made me certain there was more to it.

“So how much?” She asked them.

“How much what?” Stiles asked her.

“How much am I worth?” She asked.

“Four million.” Scott told her.

“Are you okay?” Stiles asked her.

“Yeah. Scott’s worth twenty five, Jamie’s worth twenty, Kira’s six. They’ll take you guys out way before me.” Malia told them before stepping up and opening the vault. I chuckled at her relaxed attitude.

“It’s progress.” Stiles muttered to Scott and Kira who were less amused by Malia’s statement.

The vault door opened and we all walked into the Hale vault.

Kira paced the floor as I snooped around. Malia had fallen asleep in Stiles arms and Scott was sitting in a box. We were less than inspired for a solution. I had a feeling if we didn’t think of one soon we would all die. Werewolves couldn’t get sick, so whatever this illness was it was meant for us.

“You know this is where it all started. The money was sitting right there. A hundred and seventeen million in bearer bonds.” Stiles told us as he pointed to the now empty safe.

“How do you even change bearer bonds into cash?” Kira asked as she messed with a jar of weird looking leaves and mushrooms. Se handed it to me when I came over to investigate. I looked it over and gave it a sniff. I reeled back, it was strong and weird smelling. I put it back on the shelf.

“The bank I guess. They just let it sit here the whole time collecting dust. You know bearer bonds are basically extinct.” Stiles told us.

“Why does it matter?” Kira asked him sitting down beside Scott.

“You know how many problems that money could solve?” Stiles asked her.

“For you?” Kira asked him.

“Me, my dad, Eichen house and the MRI bills are crushing him.” Stiles confessed.

“Why didn’t you tell me I have money saved away for me from my parents.” I told Stiles.

“Dad would never accept that from you.” Stiles told me.

“Mom does this thing where she writes down all the items in our budget. How much they cost. Then she adds it all up and figures out how long we have until we lose the house.” Scott confessed. I hung my head. Scott got up and went to the door to listen. Stiles followed him over so I went to sit at Malia’s side. Kira sat on her other side. Malia’s head eventually found its way into my lap. Kira and I were leaning against each other. Propping each other up over Malia.

Stiles came over to tell her that he was going to go out and try to figure out what was going on. He wrapped his jacket around her as she shivered.

“You’re coming back right?” She asked him.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d never leave you behind.” Stiles assured her. I watched him walk out the door. Malia’s head was back in my lap before it closed behind him. She was still shaking and there wasn’t much I could do for her. So I held her, and I held onto hope that somehow we would all make it out of this alive.

Malia struggled to sit up as she pulled a piece of paper from Stiles coat pocket. She unfolded it before us.

“Is that the third part of the deadpool? I haven’t seen it yet who’s on it?” I asked her as she sat up.

“Malia!” Scott called out in warning. She looked up at him.

“I can’t see. I can’t see anything.” She told him as she started to shake. I took the deadpool from her hands but the words on the paper were a blur. My vision faded completely a few seconds later.

“Scott! It’s in the vault. It’s called reishi mushrooms. It’s in there with you!” Stiles yelled at us from outside the vault. I struggled to my feet at Stiles words. I remembered the jar Kira had picked up earlier. I couldn’t see but I knew it was right across the room from me. I stumbled blindly in what I hoped was the right direction. I reached out with my sense of smell that had been weakened but was still there. I grabbed hold of the shelf as I bumped into it. Mostly to keep me from tumbling down. I felt around and my hand closed around the jar. I unscrewed the cap and grabbed the strong smelling contents. I forced some of it in my mouth. I chewed and swallowed it down.

The effects were near instant. My sight coming back to me and then my strength. I wasn’t one hundred percent but I was strong enough to save my friends. I went to Scott first. I shoved some of the tea down his throat. His eyes opened as he sputtered but I held my hand over his mouth making sure he swallowed it all. I put some in the palm of his hand.

“Get this to Kira.” i told him helping him to his feet and pushing him in the direction of his girlfriend before I made my way to Malia.

I forced the mushrooms down my friends throat and nearly sobbed as her eyes shot open. I pulled her to me. Scott cured Kira before opening the door for Stiles. AS Malia hugged me I heard the crinkling sound of paper between us. I pulled away and looked down at the third part of the deadpool as it fell into our laps. My eyes widened as I scanned it over. The second name down was Malia Hale followed by the number four. Malia looked like she’d been shot.

Stiles ran inside and knelt in front of her. I realised then that this truth was what he’d been hiding from her. I honestly felt betrayed too knowing that everyone had kept this from me.

“Hey are you okay? Malia? Malia?” Stiles asked reaching out to touch her shoulder. Malia grabbed his wrist and pulled his hand away from her. SHe stood up leaving the list behind. SHe took my hand and pulled me to my feet. She kept her hand firmly in mine as she led us both from the vault. She left the others behind without a word.

Malia led me out of the basement and away from the crowd of people upstairs into the locker room. She pulled me in and closed the door behind us before rounding on me.

“You didn’t know?” She asked tears in her eyes. I could only shake my head as my heart broke for her. She seemed relieved that I was as clueless as she was about her true heritage. She wrapped her arms around me and we clung to each other as she sobbed into my shoulder.

#stiles stilinski #scott mccall #malia tate #malia hale #kira yukimura #lydia martin #the chemist #natalie martin #coach finstock #teen wolf

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