#I am supposed to pretend none of this happened in front of my two eyes | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cherry-leclerc · 2 months

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method acting ☆ cl16

genre: series - humor, strangers to friends/roommates

word count: 4.1k

*can you guess what film it's based off of? i practically laid the answer out in front of you guys lol

ch. one ch. two ch. three ch. four ch. five ch. six ch. six

Chapter 3

Life, as you fear, is falling apart as you're confronted with a serious case of writer's block that puts your career on the line. As a solution, you're roommate helps you plan a solo trip to the Amalfi Coast for a much needed break but it doesn't take long for you to meet a certain Monegasque who lays passed out on the beach.

The Spaniard shifts uncomfortably before taking a step back. You had read all about him - of course you had - but how were you supposed to know he would be here? For sure you were drooling by how in shock you were, but you couldn’t find the strength to pick your jaw off the floor.

And then it got worse.

“Carlos, you won’t believe what I just saw! A Stormtrooper just got slapped by some ballerina! I mean he was kind of asking for it - he grabbed her and she just…” He mimics a dramatic strike as Carlos chuckles. “Best night of my life.”

The brown eyed man quirks a dark brow towards the lousy looking Super Mario. “This is my friend, Lando.” He leans closer to your ear. “He’s not normal.”

“Hey,” the Brit warns as he fixes his overalls, then blushes. “I-It was such short notice.”

Bewildered, you let out soft pants as you pat your chest over and over. The two men share a concerned look. “Are you feeling okay?” Would it be the worst thing in the world to bolt out the door and fly back home? Eyeing the entrance, you contemplate it for a bit but then you hear the familiar accent.

“She's yeigh high, won’t stop talking even if you beg her to…”

“I’m fine!” The pair flinch at the sudden burst. “I’m just going to pop out and take a breather.”

“There you are.” Your stomach drops. Charles raises his brows in a curious manner at the back heads of Carlos and Lando as you weigh your options. You can deal with this - pretend none of this was actually happening. But instead you do what you do best.

“Where are you-”

Pushing past the crowd, you make your way out the door. Once you take a step outside, you look both ways before shaking your head and running down the street. You receive weird looks, but don’t bother to care. There wasn’t an exact destination in mind, but anything was better than dealing with whatever that was.

Loud footsteps make your spine tingle with uneasiness as you turn around. And this has to be some sort of nightmare because a Stormtrooper, heist man, and Super Mario chase after you. You sprint faster, often taking glances back as Charles tries to catch his breath.

“Where the fuck are you going? Are you crazy?” he shouts as Carlos and Lando stop, immediately recognizing his voice. You stop dead in your tracks as Charles inches closer. Grabbing you by the shoulders, he shakes you harshly. “What’s wrong with you? You can’t just run off like that!”

“I-I…” You spot the two friends as they mutter at each other, walking closer. Feverishly, you shake your head, headache coming in strong. “I needed air-”

Cold eyes narrow down like knives. “That’s fine, but couldn’t you have gone through a more sane route?” You’re a blubbering mess, jumbling out non-existing words as the Monegasque wrestles to decipher them all.

That sounds just like Leclerc, or am I going insane? Lando murmurs as Carlos nods silently. Kind of, but we should help her. What if he’s just some creep?

The duo are about to reach you and your roommate when you land on what seems like the worst idea, but reluctantly, saves you. Tippy toeing, you throw your arms around Charles’ neck before pressing your lips onto his. He stiffens.

“Oh umm…so…they’re not strangers.”

The Spaniard’ eyes grow wide. “Definitely not. We should probably leave them alone.”

Making their way back to the party, you sigh with relief against the brunette’s pink lips as you relax your feet down onto the pavement. But this only leads to the green eyed boy to angle himself lower and continue the kiss. Pushing him back sharply, you shriek.

“No!”

He jumps with high alert. “Wh-what’s wrong?”

Rosy cheeks flush furthermore as you rub your eyes harshly. “This…this is wrong.” A beat. “I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

The Monegasque lets out a small laugh before running a large hand against his stubble. “But I thought-”

“I know,” you chant. “But it wasn’t the right thing to do. I got lost in the moment and that’s my fault, but we’re friends, Charles. That was…weird.”

His heart stops from your sudden burst. Bruised is an understatement. He won’t say he has a crush - God, it’s only been a couple of days of knowing you - but it would be an outright lie if he said a kiss hadn’t crossed his mind. But did you have to be so unfazed by it all?

A raw cough rings through the air, only soft music being heard as you two awkwardly stare at each other. “It was kind of weird.” A forced chuckle makes its way up your throat as you rub your arm. “I also got lost in the gist of it all, don’t feel too bad.”

“We’re good then?”

He nods, lips stretched out into a knowing smile. “Yes.”

You whistle. “Thank God. I wouldn’t want things to get…”

“Me too.” He winks teasingly. “Just answer me one thing; Was I any good?”

Unable to keep eye contact, you softly smack his suit. “What are you tal- I was.” He wiggles his dark brows. Stop lying. You gape at him. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore!” He chuckles.

“Do you want to go back, or?”

“Or.”

Unlocking the door, the Monegasque steps aside as you thank him, brushing past his tall figure and making your way onto the couch. “I don’t think I could ever party again. Might just have to accept my fate.”

The white cloud plunges down as he takes a seat next to your tired state. “Which is?”

“That I’m old.” You sit up straight as you point an accusing finger up at him. He tilts his head. “Correction - we’re both old.”

A hand slaps your mouth shut as you squeal against it. “I think it might just be you.” Yoomphtoofth, you muffle as you try to wiggle free from his strong grip. “Let me know if you disagree.”

Licking his hand, he yelps as he pulls away, immediately drying himself against your tutu. You smirk. “Asshole.” He narrows his eyes. Shrugging him off, you curl your legs up to your chest. “Truce?” Glaring at your hand, he questions it for a second before hesitantly shaking it. Tugging it towards your mouth, he lets out a high pitched squeak as you lick it.

“You’re a heathen,” he shrieks as you throw your head back laughing. Relax. You’ve already kissed me. “You kissed me, let's not forget.” You blush. Suddenly I’m feeling very tired. Off to bed I go.

Staring with slight amusement, he waves you off. When you come to a halt, sleepy eyes reconnect with yours. “I know you said it’s fine for me to keep the bed and you the couch, but I’m willing to share now that I trust you.”

A playful scoff escapes. “I’m flattered.” You stick your tongue out, aiming your ballet shoe at him. He dodges it before comedically scowling. “It’s fine, you can keep it. Hopefully it helps tend to your nasty attitude. You should seriously get that checked out.”

You huff, foot stopping against the wooden tiles. “And I’m sure you’re getting a hump back, so by all means stay in your microscopic couch.” Green eyes bulge out with worry as he runs into the room.

“On second thought, I think we should share!”

So he’s a cuddler. You learn so very quickly when he instinctively drapes his hand over your belly. You try to wrestle free for a while before you realize how nice it feels. A few seconds tick by before you drift off to sleep.

The strong beams that slither past the curtains are enough to shake the Monegasque awake. Groaning, he squints his eyes as he analyzes his surroundings. It takes a second for him to register how close you are, and even worse, how his arm lays over your delicate figure.

Flinging it away, he scoots back. You toss and turn for a while before you lazily rub your eyes. Was there an earthquake? Charles opens his mouth, then snaps it shut. You raise an expectant brow. T’was my imagination? “Must have been,” he croaks, a raspy voice bouncing off the walls. “How about some breakfast?”

After a strong counter argument on your behalf, he eventually complies and strolls out the door, set to get some breakfast for you both. It should have been for the best to tidy up the bed, clean up a bit.

Definitely not hunt for a small journal.

Guilt resurfaces as you open the side drawer, finding it empty. What were you doing? Charles has been nothing but good to you - he was someone you considered your friend. Maybe it was for the best, it was a bit too invasive.

Your tummy grumbles as you glare at the clock, time slowly passing by and still no sign of the Monegasque. Dragging your feet to the living room, you shamelessly plop onto the couch when you spot an oddly familiar item. The brown diary.

You can feel the way your eyes sparkled with merriment as a delirious laugh ringed past your dry lips. It had been dug between the pillows begging to be let out. To be skimmed through. Analyzed. Soft fingers trace the front cover as your breath hitches.

This doesn’t have to happen. You didn’t have to do any of this. You could be honest, admit what you’re doing, that you know who he is and how that would change nothing between you two, and that you needed this. He would understand. But the thin pages were luring you in by every passing second he doesn’t walk past that door. A tiny peek won’t hurt.

You can’t tell how much time has passed, but the moment you hear keys jingling, you hurriedly stash it back in its original hiding spot and rush over to the terrace overlooking Amalfi. Strong accent calls out for you as you holler back. With a sheepish smile, he hands you a box of crepes. Grazie.

His green eyes flicker with evident panic, though he tries not to show it. “Hey, have you seen a small journal by any chance? It’s sort of important.” As quickly as you started, you stopped munching and immediately started to choke. A large hand pats your back as you inch away as if he held a deadly disease.

“N-no I have not.” You brush your hair back, suddenly hot. “Is it that big a deal?”

The brunette shrugs but reluctantly nods. “I write down my feelings sometimes. Helps me cope with lots of things.” An appreciated and honest expression maps itself between his soft features. “Though I think I found a new outlet.” Your heart stops as he glazes over the open scenery. “Still, I should go look for it.”

Left hollow and sick, you burn with fury towards yourself. You should have let it go, but God, why did you have to ruin everything?

The day settles with a drive around town with a navy Vespa. Charles had bought it on a whim when you gushed over the idea of adventuring in true old fashion. Just like Princess Anne and Joe Bradley. Snuggling your head with a hideous helmet, you pout as he clicks it securely before working on his own. “This is not what I had in mind.”

He clicks his tongue. “Rather be safe than sorry.”

“This is only going to mess with my hair. I planned this outfit to perfection, Cha! And look!” You give him a quick twirl as he rolls his eyes at the dramatic gesture. “Now you’ve ruined it.”

“Just get on.”

Bumpy road makes you squeal with hysteria as you cling on extra tight around his waist. You can hear his croaky laughter as he swerves to avoid crashing into a fruit stand. Scusa! “You’re going to get us killed, and contrary to belief, I would love to live!”

“Would you relax? I know what I’m doing.”

Once you make it out of the busy village, you’re actually able to enjoy the ride. You even try to convince him to play a round of i-Spy with you, though that later backfires when you accuse him of cheating. You’re in the heat of your one-sided argument when he pulls into an abandoned church. Hopping off, you lay your arms firmly against your hips. “What is all this?”

It goes unannounced, but he quietly makes his way over to creaky doors. “Would you like to find out?” With a decent round of skepticism, you begrudgingly follow. I don’t see what there could possibly be in here. Why don’t we just go for ice cream? Bringing a finger up to his lips, he signals for you to hush. Doe eyes flutter with curiosity as he makes his way to the altar.

As soon as he kneels down, you awkwardly kick your leg around as you puff your cheeks. You hum slowly as you watch the way he remains still for a while, eyes closed.

“Should I let you have a moment, or…” Be quiet, he hisses. You weren’t necessarily religious but you figured you should give him some space. The sound of old wood crumbles underneath your feet as you walk down the steps. I fucking got it!

You gasp loudly as you recklessly spin around to find him pulling pieces of wood, clearly destroying the already grubby floor. “I’m not that close with the man up above, but I’m almost sure you can’t say shit like that in here, even if it’s abandoned.” You slap your mouth shut as his eyes glimmer with amusement. Heat rises up to your cheeks. “I’m also sure you can’t be doing this! It’s private property.”

“Who’s going to stop me?” he childishly murmurs as he continues with his careless task. “Ouch,” he yelps when a splinter digs through his finger.

“Serves you right.”

Glaring up at your smug figure, the brunette waves you over. “Instead of just standing there, you should help me.”

“With what? There’s nothing valuable here! What are you even looking for?”

With a minor annoyance, he fiercely kicks through the board as it lets loose as cracks. Thunder rumbles as you shake your head with disapproval. You’ve done it. You made God mad, I hope you’re happy. Only, he’s grinning ear to ear as he shows off a small box. You tilt your head with clear confusion as he dashes up to you.

“I can’t believe it’s still here after all these years.” There’s a trace of disbelief and adoration as he takes in the dusty package. There’s a whole galaxy shining within his watercolor eyes when he looks up at you. Your breath gets stuck in your throat.

Blinking rapidly, you gently run your finger across it, skin instantly becoming a dark shade of brown as you scrunch your nose. “What is it?” Your eyebrows arch into a sympathetic peer. “Oh no…did you bury a hamster or something like that in there?”

Tears well up in your eyes as you tap the wood in a downhearted state. “No, you ghoul.” He tenderly opens it up. Pulling out a golden pin, your eyes widen as The Prancing Horse reflects back towards you both.

“My father left this here for me.” You heart swells at the sensitive mention. Charles had told you about his fathers death a few nights ago, so you were still new with deciding how to react. “He said he would, and he did.”

“That’s really sweet,” you whisper, hand pressing against his broad shoulder. “What does it mean?” And it takes you a while to realize that you weren’t asking for your benefit, but rather because you wanted to learn more about the Monegasque. Any crumb felt like a feast to you.

It appears as if he’s playing the words in his head as he runs his thumb against it. “My dad helped build this church when I was 6. It helped bring in a bit of money for the family.” Your eyes glimmer attentively as you nod. “When I had time to get away from boxing…yeah, boxing…he would bring me and my older brother to carry wood. Arthur was much younger.”

His Golden Goose tapped against the brown ground for further classification. “Maman would get upset at him, saying we were just babies, but we didn’t mind at all.” A gray cloud paints his eyes as he twists his lips. “I’m glad we did that, now that I’m older.”

“You must really miss him,” you mumble, glassy eyes shining back at him. He lets out a sorrowful smile.

“I do.” A beat. “But what am I doing acting like I’m the only one who’s had it tough?” Dark brows form a sharp V as he signals to you. “Oh, because of you and your relationship with your parents-”

“I got that,” you scowl with a lighthearted glare. The corner of his lips lift. “But my situation is nothing compared to yours. Sure, my parents and I aren’t close - not enough for my liking - but at least they’re alive.” He flinches slightly as you cradle his face. “I-”

“I know,” he reassures you with a small smile. “He was the best. Always put his family first; his son's dreams were his priority.” He raises the golden pin. “One night after dinner, he mentioned how he hid a small horse somewhere in the church, so that when the time was right, I would go back and look for it. I was covetous, wanted it right there and then. So, I worked up the courage to ask everyone around if they had seen a horse. They looked at me as if I was crazy.” He chuckles.

“He found out and sat me down. Told me it didn’t work like that. My biggest dream was to own a Ferrari, just like everyone in Monaco hopes to. He believed in me, swore that if I worked hard enough, then I could do it. Only then would I know where the mysterious pin was.”

“Lorenzo, my older brother, knew there was a key for…” He signals sheepishly at the wooden floor, a lock hidden in plain sight as he blushes. “I guess I never really learned how to be patient. I barely figured it out a few days ago, when you kicked the cabinet door open.”

You gape. “It was jammed.”

He snickers. “It reminded me of something he had said after he painted the walls. Only the toughest can kick without feeling any regret. He would have loved you, that much I know.”

Flustered, you twirl the hem of your dress. “You’re saying I’m a horse?”

“You’re definitely abnormal.” Your shoulders droop. “All I’m saying is that you helped me find the missing piece. And that means a lot.”

“But you don’t own a Ferrari yet,” you retorted, even though only you knew, you knew the truth, but he doesn’t bat an eye, only clips the pin onto your dress.

“One day I will.” He winks. “Until then, you can take care of this for me.”

“Two more weeks, huh?”

Forcing a spoonful of gelato into his mouth, you pout. He struggles to digest the berry treat. “That’s kind of sad. I think I’ll actually miss you, Charles.”

His lips curl. “I know I’ll miss you.” Brown hair flows against the summer breeze. “But it doesn’t have to end like this. We can still see each other. Right?”

“Uh…”

He would find out eventually once the article was published and he would hold every right to hate you. To not want to see you again. Your lack of response has him pinching his face. “You don’t want to?”

Scrambling like a clumsy giraffe, you fidle with a nearby pillow. “I do! But when would we have the time?” You’re going to be too busy racing and hating my guts, you want to spit out when he beams back at you.

“I would make the time just for you.”

Your heart clenches. Could he just be honest? Open up to you. You would gladly do the same, but he needed to do this first to give you the courage to own up to your secrets. Lips part, then purse. “Charles, I-” A ring lingers in the air as he tips his head, giving to the go-ahead. Excusing yourself, you march into the sunny room.

“Yes, hello?”

“How’s vacation?” Eleanor’s rich voice enters your ears as you squirm.

“Vacation?” you squeak.

She sighs. “I’m obviously kidding. Can’t you tell that I’m kidding?” A nervous giggle flutters as you hum back at her. She continues. “Anyways, that's not what I called you for. I just wanted to check up on you.”

“Oh. My injuries are much better. Doc says I can have the casts removed in a week-”

“Let me rephrase. I wanted to check up on your work. Progress.”

“Of course,” you say. “I actually have it done. It just needs a few more rounds of proof-reading, but I’m sure I can send it to you by…” You stare at the calendar. “Two weeks.”

Eleanor clicks her tongue in disapproval. “No, I need it by Friday. Nothing past that.”

Your stomach lurches. “Eleanor, I can’t.” And why not? Biting down on your nails, you peek over to where the brunette sun bathes, or naps, you can’t tell. I need two weeks because by then I’ll be gone and won’t have to deal with a certain driver detesting me. You understand, right? But you don’t say any of that.

“You said it was an exclusive. I need this,” she warns, subtle threat lacing his voice. “We’re talking about one of the most sought-out drivers in all of Formula One. Do you realize what this could do for your career? If you nail this right in the eye, you might even become my right hand. And you know it’s only up from there, sweetheart. Friday.”

“Friday.”

That same night, the sound of your digits hitting the keyboard are the only thing being heard. Charles tries to sneak a peek, but when you cry out stating you were helping a friend get over a break up, he took a step back and scrolled through his phone.

Stellar job…The most…Amazing…

A frustrated growl escapes you as you fist your hands. Taking a look, Charles can’t help but grin. Often misunderstood, the 26 year old deals with lots of… “Argh!” His eyes widened.

“That bad, huh? What did he do to your poor friend?”

“What?” you rudely retort, but quickly try to ease your breathing. “Right. Um. Yeah, men are shit.”

“Of course we are,” he replies warmly. “How about you take a break? If you’re getting too riled up, you won’t do her any good. Just refresh and come back to it. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it.”

But the blank space has you stressed as you circle back to what Eleanor said over the phone. You had perfect this. “I have to do this. Help her, I mean. Now.”

“You’re too kind.” It’s as if a loving glow towers over his face as he sits at the edge of the bed. “I admire that.”

“You do?”

“Mhm. But seriously, let's go for a walk.”

Despite the sun setting, he of course wears his famous Raybans and a Boston hat lounged over his curly hair. His killer mullet was rolling in as you licked your lips at the dreamy sight.

Wait. No.

With a secretive glance, you find him whistling an unknown tune. Though he wears the darkest shade of sunglasses, you can still feel his warm gaze. Though his luscious hair is draped with an old hat, you can still distinguish his shampoo scent. His body next to yours is enough to make your inside flip as you shake your head abruptly.

This was Charles. Just a friend. A friend for the time being, at least. There was no room to form a crush now. You settled on the fact that he was just merely attractive. That you can do - admit.

“I was serious about what I said earlier today. I will visit you wherever you are.” Green eyes flicker over to you. “You’ve become one of the most important persons in my life. A good friend to have around.”

Your heart for some reason shatters as you squint your eyes at the golden sun. “Right after Amelia and Roman, you are someone I consider a friend, too. I’m glad we met.” A peaceful silence lingers between you two as your heart thuds against your ribcage. “Charles-”

“I know you read my journal.”

taglist: @blueflorals @starmanv @coolio2195 @lovrsm

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justagalwhowrites · 2 months

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Yearling - Ch. 30: Blood

Joel and Tommy run into trouble on patrol. A continuation of Yearling ch. 1-29 found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller x Female Reader

Warnings: Canon-typical violence. Plot points from TLOU2. No use of Y/N. Minors DNI 18+ Only

Length: 7.5k

A/N: Hi y’all, I’m stashing this whole chapter below a jump because it’s been brought to my attention that the major event of this chapter is less common knowledge and more of a spoiler than I really realized it was. There is a major plot point for TLOU2 below. I’m sorry I didn’t tag the whole fic that way (going back to update that now) and I apologize if this spoiled things for people who were trying to go in blind. This is the first chapter with any big overlap and if you want to bow out now, I totally understand. My DMs are open if you want to know more without full spoilers and if there’s a way to keep reading without knowing the plot of TLOU2.

AO3 | Chapter One | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

“Dina kissed me.”

“What!” You yelped and Ellie’s eyes went wide before she clamped a hand over your mouth.

“Shhhh!” She looked around, her breath rising in front of her. But the only people out right now were inside the stable, a good 50 feet behind you and far enough away that you doubted any of them heard you, even if you were loud. “Jesus, Bambi…”

She released your mouth and you tried not to giggle.

“Sorry,” you whispered. “Good for you, kiddo! Told you not to count the girl out because she also fucks men…”

“There’s no way she meant it,” Ellie rolled her eyes. “Get real.”

“Why not?” You asked, brows raised. “Why shouldn’t she mean it?”

“Because she’s Dina,” Ellie said, as though that explained everything. You just looked at her and she rolled her eyes again. “She was just trying to stir shit up because her and Jesse split up…”

“Uh huh.”

“And I was convenient,” she finished. “That’s it, that’s all it was…”

“And you know this because you asked her, I’m sure.”

“Fuck off,” she snapped. “Look, I didn’t drag you out here to figure that shit out…”

“You sure about that?”

“I dragged you out here,” she said, ignoring you, “to try and figure out what the fuck I’m supposed to do now.”

“Kiss her again,” you shrugged. “That’s what I’d do…”

“I’m being serious!” She hissed at you. “I have to go on patrol with her in like half an hour, what the fuck am I supposed to do?”

You sighed and smiled a little, putting your hands in the pockets of the coat Joel had given back to you that morning. He said he hadn’t been wearing it but it had to have been hanging close enough to things he did wear and it smelled a bit like him.

“First, you need to calm down,” you said gently. She looked like she was going to snap at you but you silenced her with a look. “I know it’s hard but regardless of how you want this to turn out, try not to be in your own head about it, OK? She’s still your friend and I’m guessing you want her to stay your friend, right?”

“Duh.”

“So eloquent,” you said and she rolled her eyes. “Look, you have two options. You can pretend it never happened and see if she brings it up or you can be up front about it and ask her.”

“Is there a way to bring it up without looking like a desperate fucking loser?” She asked, brows raised.

You shrugged.

“Tough line to walk but I think you’ve got it in you.”

“Jesus…”

“Ellie,” you took her shoulders and made her actually face you. “It will be OK. Might be awkward for a bit but it’s not the end of the world. I promise. You can talk to her. She’s your friend for a reason and it’s because you’re kind and you’re smart and you’re funny. Even without the help of Will Livingston. None of that shit changes just because you kissed. Alright?”

“Yeah,” she said, dropping her head to your shoulder with a heavy sigh. You put your arms around her and gave her a little squeeze but when she pulled back from you, her eyes were narrowed. “You’re in a weirdly good mood.”

You frowned.

“No I’m not.”

“Uh yeah, you are,” she said, stepping back and looking you up and down as though she she were inspecting you. You just raised your eyebrows at her, expectant, when her mouth dropped open for a moment before she shifting to a shit eating grin.

“Ellie…”

“You fucked Joel!”

“We need to have another conversation about the fact that what happens between my legs is none of your business,” you muttered, turning her around to head back toward the stable.

“No we don’t,” she said. “This is great, you two have been so depressing the last few months…”

“We have not!”

“Please,” she rolled her eyes. “You were basically dead for weeks and Joel barely left the house for who knows how long.”

“That… was less recent,” you said. “And it’s not your job to worry about us so let’s just…” you stopped just short of the stable doors. “How did you know?”

“Know what?”

“About…” you lowered your voice. “Joel. Not that I’m admitting to anything.”

She smirked.

“That coat’s been hanging in his front closet since you left.” You looked down at yourself and groaned. Her cocky smile grew. “You wanted the coat again. Bingo.”

“Well just… keep it to yourself, alright?” You said, heading for the door. “I have no idea how to handle this with Savvy yet so cool it for bit. Please.”

“I can keep my mouth shut you know,” she said as you opened the door to the stable and she went in. She opened her mouth to keep talking but Dina came up to her, smiling, and she froze instead.

“Hey Ellie,” she smiled a little bigger before looking at you. “Bambi, good to see you.”

“You too,” you said, clapping Ellie on the shoulder. “Have fun out there.”

She glared at you over Dina’s shoulder and you just shrugged and winked at her before taking care of the final things you needed to before getting everyone out the door on patrol.

You seriously considered, for a moment, taking Joel’s hand and just dragging him back home when he told you that you’d be going out separately. Things with him were so raw and delicate and new again. Neglecting it for two days felt dangerous somehow, a tension setting into your limbs before you and Julie headed out.

You were always last to leave the stables, always waiting until you knew the rest of the patrol was situated even though you knew Olivia could handle things just fine without you. She smiled - a vaguely amused look on her face - as you went back over everything for the third time.

“I promise, it’s all good,” she said eventually. “Please go focus on killing infected and staying safe and leave managing the horses to me.”

On the way out of town, you stopped by where the working dogs were kept and asked if you could bring Gatling along, Julie looking a little skeptical as the dog jumped on Renaissance and settled between your legs, her head draped over your bicep.

“Used to ride like this with her all the time,” you said, kissing the top of the dog’s head. Gatling licked her lips once and curved her body into yours as you sat back in the saddle to make sure she had room. “I’ll let her down once we’re good and underway, she’ll keep up. She’s great at spotting infected and I’m guessing she could be a great patrol dog once we get her adjusted to working with more than just me…”

“She definitely looks like she can hold her own,” Julie said, watching as Gatling started scanning the horizon, her ears perked and listening, ready to jump off your horse and run down any apparent threat. “What kind of dog is she, anyway?”

“She’s a Belgian Malinois,” you said, giving her a scratch behind the ears. “They were police and military dogs before. She saved my ass from infected more than once and she kept my girl alive when I couldn’t…” You kissed her head again and she turned to lick your cheek before going back to watching for threats. “She’s a good girl.”

“Good to know I’ve got someone out here who can really watch my back,” Julie teased lightly. “Not sure I trust you to do it…”

“Why not?” You asked, gaping at her. “I’m a great shot, keep you alive no problem…”

“You forget I saw you trying to show Ellie and Savvy how to shoot a basketball that one time,” she smiled a cocky smile. “You barely hit the backboard…”

“OK shooting a basketball is a completely different animal,” you waved her off. “Where it counts, my aim is solid. Saved Tommy once.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true,” you said, nudging Renaissance a little faster. “Ask Joel…”

“Joel, hm?” She brought her horse alongside yours. “Things happening there?”

You tried to hide your smile but felt the edges of your mouth curve up, anyway.

“Good for you!” Julie said. “Both because you’re my friend and I want you to be happy but also because I like being right and goddammit, if I’m going to get shot down for a man of all people at least it’s a man I was right about.”

You laughed a little before you remembered you had things weren’t just magically fixed with Joel yet.

“Do me a favor and don’t mention it to anyone?” You said, looking down at Gatling. “I need to tell Savvy…”

The dog looked up to you at the mention of her name and you gave her a small scratch.

“Oh, right,” Julie winced a bit. “Yeah, that might be rough.”

“Yeah,” you sighed heavily. “I need to figure out a way to do this without losing both of them. I can’t do that again, I just… I can’t.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she said gently. “It will be OK. Just have to believe it, it’ll happen.”

“I’ll do my best,” you smiled a little at her. “How’s shit with Karen, by the way?”

“Oh God,” she laughed. “I’m not sure how much I should tell you…”

The patrol was easy enough until the snow started flying. It was still, the two of you talking, Gatling sometimes running ahead and acting more like a puppy than you remembered her being before, making you smile. It felt like if she could be like this - young and free and more than what survival had made her - so could Savvy. She would get there someday. You could get her back and make her understand once she was ready.

Once the snow picked up, you and Julie decided to hunker down instead of pressing on to what was meant to be your final spot for the day. Though you were pretty sure you were only an hour or so shy of it if the weather weren’t working against you.

“OK this is bullshit is what this is,” Julie said as she stomped snow off her boots and shook it out of her hair. You laughed a little as you got a fire going in the fireplace of the old house you’d reached for the night. It was just at the edge of a small subdivision, a spot you’d ridden past before but never spent much time in. The two of you had gotten the horses settled in the garage and Julie had done a quick walk around the immediate area to make sure there were no threats before coming in to settle for the night. “White, fluffy bullshit.”

“Not getting you in the holiday spirit?” You teased. “Thanksgiving is coming up, Christmas right after that…”

“Yeah, I’m already counting down until spring,” she said, shucking her coat and joining you by the fire. “I can only live with this for so long.”

“I kinda like it,” you said as the fire caught the larger log and you watched it start to go up. “I like that seasons actually change here. It definitely made it easier to mark the passage of time when I didn’t have a calendar.”

“Well I guess when you put it that way,” she sighed dramatically and you laughed. “But now that you’re in Jackson, we’ll keep you straight on the passage of time. The snow can go.”

Julie had brought a bottle of whiskey from the Bison - “A perk of the job,” she said - and you were reminded of sleepovers when you were in high school when you and your friends would swipe booze from your parents’ liquor cabinets and get drunk around a bonfire.

“I feel like we’re going to regret this in the morning,” you said, snug in your sleeping bag on the floor as the fire dimmed, head fuzzy and limbs tingling from the alcohol. Gatling’s head rested on your stomach.

“We can just sleep in a bit,” she scoffed and you heard her adjust on the couch. “What are they gonna do, fire us from patrol for running late? Doubt it.”

You laughed a little.

“Guess there’s not much to contend with out there right now, anyway,” you said, closing your eyes. “Been quiet as hell all day. Doubt it’ll change overnight.”

“It’d better not,” she said, sounding sleepy. “Better not be more snow, either.”

You laughed once.

“Better snow than infected,” you said. “Or raiders.”

She didn’t respond and the room was quiet for a moment before you heard a soft snore coming from the couch.

You laughed and then sighed, pulling a hand from the sleeping bag to scratch Gatling behind the ears. She sighed and curled up tighter to you.

“It’s gonna be different when we go back,” you whispered to her, absently stroking one of her soft ears. “You can still come home with me, though. Maybe sleep with Savvy instead for a bit. I’m sure you miss her.”

You tried to think about how to tell Savvy about Joel. It would have been a hard conversation under any circumstance, you thought. Not one you’d ever thought you’d need to have when you’d started caring for her. The idea of being with anyone long term then had been so foreign it hadn’t even crossed your mind. After Marisa, you’d given up on that. Just the occasional lover when there was a woman around who was interested as she was passing through had been enough.

But Jackson was different. Joel was different. You had safety and security in Jackson and you loved Joel in a way you’d never thought you’d find, especially not after spending so long alone. But how could you tell Savvy something that you knew would hurt her? How could you tell her anything at all when she hadn’t spoken to you in weeks?

“She’s gonna come around, right?” You whispered to Gatling. You felt her lick her lips and sigh against you. You closed your eyes but left your hand on the dog. “I’ll get her to trust me again. I will.”

When the pounding on the front door woke you up, you were barely even aware you’d been asleep. But it was daylight outside and Gatling was standing near the front door, crouched low and snarling.

“Wha…” Julie lifted her head, a groggy look on her face.

“I got it,” you said, head spinning as you shoved your way out of your sleeping bag. “You stay put.”

“Thank fuck,” she groaned, dropping her head back on the couch and draping her arm over her eyes. You laughed and shook your head, going for the door.

“Gatling.” The dog looked up at you, ready to obey. “Heel.”

She fell back from the door and went to your leg, still tight against you, as you opened the door.

“Glad I found you,” Gene, Jesse’s patrol partner said, pushing past you into the house without waiting for an invitation. “It’s a mess out there…”

“That’s why we stopped here for the night,” you said, leaving the door open and nodding to Gatling, who immediately ran outside to pee. You waited by the door and let her back in, the dog sticking to your side again.

“We can’t be that late getting out of here,” Julie grumbled, sitting up and pinching the bridge of her nose. “Not that it’s not just a blast to see you, Gene…”

“We’re missin’ people,” he said, more to you than Julie.

“What?” You frowned, crossing your arms over your chest, the after effects of the alcohol suddenly fading fast. “What do you mean we’re missing people, who are we missing?”

“Joel and Tommy,” he said. “They never made it where they were supposed to last night and we can’t find ‘em….”

“They probably stopped for the night like we did,” Julie waved him off. “Did you not see the weather last night? It was a shit show…”

“Probably,” Gene nodded. “But they’d have made it there by now and we didn’t see them comin’ back down, either. No sign of ‘em. Ellie and Dina weren’t where they were supposed to be, either, but we at least found a fuckin’ trail for them, sent Jesse on to get them back in one piece…”

You were already moving to put your boots on, heart pounding, Gatling giving you a small whine. You put a handful of jerky on the ground for her and refilled her water dish before you started packing up your sleeping bag.

“I’m sure they’re fine…” Julie said, actually sitting up in the sleeping bag now, her legs pulled into her chest and watching you closely.

“We should split up,” you said, pulling on your coat. “Cover more ground…”

“Don’t know if that’s smart…” Gene began but you cut him off.

“I can handle myself,” you said, harsher than you’d really meant to. “I’ve got Gatling, I’ve got my guns, I’ve got my axe. That’s all I had for 20 damn years and I made it just fine then. If you’re worried, you and Julie can stick together but I’m not gonna sit here and talk about how to minimize risk when they’re out there dealing with who knows what…”

“Bambi,” Julie said gently, getting off the couch and taking you by the shoulders. “It’s OK.”

“No,” you shook your head. “It’ll be OK when I find him in one piece, then it’ll be OK, I’m not…”

“Gene and I will go one way,” she cut you off. “You and Gatling go the other. We’ll cover more ground. OK?”

Gene sighed, looking between the two of you.

“You got a death wish, don’t make me stop you,” he said gruffly. “Gonna go get my horse some water, we can head out.”

You watched him go, a nervous energy coursing through your body.

“Hey,” Julie said, taking your face carefully in her hands and making you look at her. “It is OK. It’s Joel and Tommy. They’re very, very good at this. They’re OK.”

There was a pinch of tears at the back of your throat that you had to fight to swallow past. She took your hands, giving them a squeeze.

“I can’t lose him now,” your voice was thick. “I just got him back, I can’t…”

“I know,” she said softly, a sad smile on her face and you were struck, for a moment, by just how pretty she was. She pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, her lips lingering on your skin for a second, before she pulled back. “We’ll find him. We will.”

“Thank you,” you nodded and took a deep breath, one tear slipping free, before looking down at your dog who was watching, ready and waiting.

“Gatling, heel.”

She moved to be immediately with you and you went to the garage, quickly saddling your horse and mounting up. You called Gatling up and she settled at the front of your saddle, already watching for incoming threats with her ears perked as you set off.

You pushed Renaissance harder than you should have through the deep snow, trying to reach some part of Joel and Tommy’s patrol path so you could find some sense of where they might have gone.

It wasn’t long before you found the path cut by a group of infected. A large one, judging by the footprints in the snow. You didn’t see a sign of Joel or Tommy but the swath of disturbed snow and brush from the hoard as so thorough you doubted you’d be able to tell if two horses had come that way, too. And, knowing Tommy and Joel, they’d have tracked the infected…

You looked higher for a moment, above where people would disturb branches and realized some branches on trees were clean of snow - too high for a person to bump on their own but just the height a tall man on horseback would hit.

“Goddammit,” you muttered, steering Renaissance in that direction and pushing her on.

The horse was breathing hard and heavy when you reached a mansion outside the normal patrol area, fully gated with piles of dead infected outside. You looked through your binoculars and saw tracks from the horses leading inside. But something about it set you on edge. Something wasn’t right.

You commanded Gatling down and tied Renaissance to a tree that provided at least some shelter.

“Back soon,” you said quietly, giving her a scratch and offering her an apple from your pack. You made sure your weapons were loaded, rifle at the ready, handgun and knife at your hip, axe across your back. Gatling looked at you, licking her lips once, waiting for a command.

“Gatling, heel,” you said. “Hunt.”

She latched onto your side like glue, crouched lower and keeping her mouth closed and you moved as quickly as you could for the gates of the mansion.

There was no one guarding the place that you could see but you closed the gate behind you. If that had been enough to keep infected out before, you weren’t about to argue with it now. There were signs of plenty of people here, footprints of various sizes all heading for shelter inside. You tried not to think about the fact that you might have to torture information out of someone who left those footprints. If they had taken Joel and Tommy’s horses, you’d have to work quick to find what they knew so you could get to them. Torture could be the best option and, if it meant saving their lives, it was a price you were happy to pay. Because they had to still be alive, they had to be.

The mansion was dark and almost eerily still. It reminded you of some of the places you’d visited when dropping of horses you’d trained to be trail animals for rich assholes before the outbreak, the trappings of extreme wealth couched in some idyllic, fictional version of the wild west. People who in places like this couldn’t handle the real thing. Real wildness would chew them up and spit them out.

You crept through the house, looking for some sign of people, too afraid to call for Joel and Tommy and potentially bring down who knows how many people on you when you heard it, an agonized cry in a voice you knew, one you knew better than almost anyone else.

“Joel,” you breathed, and you were running, Gatling at your heels.

You knew that you should stop, assess, try to form a plan but he screamed again and you plowed ahead. A plan didn’t matter, all that mattered was one thing: getting to Joel.

You had to get to him.

He had to be OK.

He had to be.

***

Joel knew what it was like to die.

He’d come close enough enough times over the years. Even before the apocalypse began he had a few near shaves. A fall off a ladder at a job site and the thought of “this is it” as he crashed down, the contemplation of what would happen with his daughter if he was gone, if he’d done enough to make it that she would be OK. A car accident that knocked him out and disoriented him enough that, for a moment in the hospital, he thought he was dead.

The times since had been different, more acute. For a while, it felt like dying would have been a mercy. There was some innate biology that kept his body pushing to survive when his mind saw death as a welcome outcome when he got stabbed or shot when he was taking what he needed to survive or getting the shit kicked out of him when he got overrun smuggling.

This, though, was something else. He didn’t want to die anymore, not really. He had you and Ellie and even Savvy. He had a reason to live now - live, not just survive - and he wanted it, wanted that life that was hanging there, so tantalizingly close on the horizon as heat of his blood pooled around him.

He still wasn’t entirely sure what happened, how he’d ended up here like this. He’d reached the girl he’d seen through the binoculars as she damn near got bit, he’d shot the infected and pulled her up just as its teeth were getting close to her neck.

“We gotta move!” Tommy yelled, shooting another infected.

Joel gave the girl a once over as quick as he could.

“You bit?” He asked. She was panting for breath but shook her head. “Got a gun?” She nodded. “Good, let’s go.”

He tucked her behind him and led the way, trying to find a way through and out. There were dozens of infected, riled up and searching for something to sink their teeth into, desperate for someone to turn.

“Shouldn’t be this damn many!” Tommy yelled as they scrambled back toward the horses. “Why are there this damn many?”

“Worry about that later!” Joel snapped, dragging the girl along behind him. She stopped and shot two that were getting too close for comfort and, even in that moment, Joel could appreciate that she was a good shot. “We have to get the fuck away from here, try and lose ‘em…”

“Think we can get all the way back to town?” Tommy asked, reloading his gun.

“Hell no,” Joel shook his head. “Need to find somewhere else to hole up…”

“My friends,” the girl said, looking between the two of them. “We’ve been staying at a mansion, not far from here. It’s got a fence around it, we’ve got the perimeter secure, if we can get there we’ll have help…”

Joel and Tommy looked at each other. It was unlikely a girl this young would be running with raiders, more likely a group just passing through as they headed for the coast from a QZ. Tommy shrugged and Joel looked back to her.

“Right,” he said. “We’ll head there, we got horses outside, you can ride with me and just tell us where to go. I’m Joel, that’s my brother Tommy, we’re from a settlement a few hours from here…”

“Joel,” she said, something shifting in her eyes when she said it.

“Right,” Joel said, not paying much attention. That seemed stupid, now. But he’d been so worried about Ellie, about you, about getting out of there to make sure you both were OK. “What’s your name, kiddo?”

“Abby,” she said, an odd twinge in her voice. “My… I’m Abby.”

They made it to the horses by the skin of their damn teeth, infected at their heels the whole way.

The kid was right, at least. The mansion was secure, her friends clearing the area with molotov cocktails, infected burning just outside the gates.

“Jesus Christ that was close,” Tommy laughed, clapping Joel on the shoulder. “Fuck, ain’t come that close in a while…”

“Couldn’t get a good look at ‘em,” Joel said, looking back at the burning bodies. “See any bullet holes? Any sign they might have run into the girls?”

Tommy’s giddy smile over surviving faded and he gave Joel’s shoulder a squeeze.

“I’m sure they’re alright, Joel,” he said. “Shit, Bambi’s a deadeye. And you taught Ellie everything you know. They probably didn’t even come across these fuckers and if they did, they’re fine. They’re fine, both have made it through worse than a few infected…”

“We should get inside,” Abby said, looking more at one of her friends than at Joel. “Now.”

Things seemed normal then. Tommy was trying to get the group to come back to Jackson, Joel was worrying about you and Ellie.

And then they introduced themselves to the group and it shifted. Just like it had with Abby, the change sudden and sharp.

“Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or somethin’,” Joel said, thinking it was a joke. His mind was still elsewhere, still on you, still on Ellie, still on making sure you both were OK. He wanted to be back in Jackson, back in his quiet house, back in bed with you, pillows actually brought up from the living room and you close enough that he could trace little patterns over your soft skin.

“Because they have.”

He didn’t even see the shot coming, didn’t have a chance to warn Tommy to run, his brother on the ground - unconscious? Dead? He wasn’t sure - before he could even think. Joel screamed as the bullet tore through his leg and he went down, straining to get to Tommy through the pain but they swarmed him, these kids his brother had just been trying to talk into coming back to Jackson. They held him down, his back to a wall as Abby knelt in front of him, her face twisted into a snarl. She looked so different than she had when he’d first spotted her, alone and afraid and cornered the way he was now.

“Joel Miller,” her teeth were gritted, the rifle tight in her grip.

“Who are you?” He managed, pulling against the people at his arms, people who looked like kids, fucking kids.

“Guess.”

“Look,” he grunted and gave his arms a yank but they thrust him back against the glass. “Don’t know what I did to ya but I know I didn’t do it on purpose. Done a lot of shit in my time but I don’t hurt kids and you’re a bunch of kids…”

“You kill my dad on purpose?” She pressed the barrel of the gun to his chin. “You slaughter a whole hospital of people who were just trying to save humanity on purpose?”

Joel’s stomach dropped. Of course. Of course saving Ellie would come back for him. Of course now that he finally had a life that was worth living it was getting ripped away for the one thing he couldn’t regret.

“I did what I had to do,” he said, trying to free himself again, even though he knew it was futile. “But it was just me. Do what you need to do, make whatever speech you got saved up, but leave my brother out of it.”

She squared her jaw, a look of disgust on her face as she got to her feet. She shoved her gun into the hands of the man - barely a man, almost still a boy, Joel thought - beside her.

“Tourniquet his leg,” she snapped. The others looked around, hesitating. “Do it!”

She stalked off as another girl obeyed, Joel trying not to scream through the pain as she tightened the belt around his leg. His head was still spinning when she came back into view, a golf club in her hands.

“You don’t get to ask me for a damn thing,” she looked at him with so much rage, so much hate that, for a moment, he pitied her. That someone so young was so angry and in so much pain, that her father had cast his lot in with a bunch of child killers and paid with his life, leaving her alone, was tragic. “And you don’t get to rush this.”

She jerked her head toward the people holding him in place and they looked at each other for a moment before stepping back. He tried to move but his leg was fucking useless and Abby swung the club, catching him in the arm before she forced him all the way to the floor with a pained cry.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d been here now. Consciousness was hazy. So was the feeling in his limbs. At times, it was like he was floating, far outside his body and somewhere far softer and warmer and kinder than here. Part of him was back in his living room, almost a year ago now, on Christmas Eve when it was just you and him and he buried himself inside the hot clutch of your body by the glow of the holiday lights. He was lost in the feel of you, so soft and warm below him. He wasn’t sure he’d ever felt closer to another person in his life, lacing his fingers with yours and looking into your eyes as you came. He’d promised to take care of you then and he’d meant it, he’d meant it so far beyond that moment inside of you, he’d meant it for the rest of his life he’d take care of you.

He just hadn’t thought it would be so soon.

At least, he thought, he’d made things right with you. At least he’d gotten to tell you that he loved you again, at least he wasn’t dying wondering if you could ever have forgiven him. At least things were right with Ellie, at least she’d loved him again and she’d let him love her the way she deserved to be loved. At least she had you and Savvy now, people who would love her that way, too, and make sure she was OK. She was going to need someone to make sure she was OK when he was gone, she was so stubborn and she tried to be so much stronger than she needed to be. She needed someone. So did you.

At least he’d get to be with Sarah again. She was so much closer now than she’d been before, barely out of reach now, somewhere quiet and safe and peaceful. Just far enough away that what was happening now couldn’t reach her. At least she wasn’t seeing this. At least you and Ellie weren’t seeing this.

Something shifted in the room, the club not landing on Joel’s body again, chaos drawing him back into his body again.

Everything hurt, like he’d been put through a meat grinder. He wasn’t sure he’d ever hurt this much, at least not physically. Every breath was pain. He’d been lying here long enough that some of the blood pooling around his legs had gone cold.

There was a vicious snarl, the crack of a gunshot and he realized, suddenly, what happened.

“Gatling!” He could barely adjust his head enough to see where you were. Your rifle was on the ground but so was the only other gun Joel remembered seeing in the room. Your axe was tight in your hands as you threw one of the men back with a roar. You kicked the guns at your feet behind you and pointed to Joel and snapped your fingers. “Guard!”

The dog ran to him and crouched around his body, hunched low, snarling and barking. You screamed and Joel struggled to see what was happening, tried to get up but he was only able to make it a few inches off the ground before he collapsed back down, his body too broken to properly obey. You were so close, you were in trouble and he tried to focus on it. He had to get you out of here, he had to take care of you, he’d promised to take care of you. He was supposed to protect you, that’s what he was built to do and he was failing.

“Gatling, bite!” Your command was more of a shriek, sharp and fearful.

The dog shot away from him for a moment, a snarl followed by a pained wail and Joel could see enough to make out that the animal had tackled someone near you as you scrambled to your feet, more of them coming for you. Joel tried again to move but his injured leg gave out that time, collapsing below him before he could put even half his weight on it.

“Gatling, release!” The screaming stopped and he heard another snap. “Guard!”

The dog went back to him, snarling and snapping and

“Bambi!”

Joel turned his head too quick to the door, his neck screaming in pain, to see Ellie standing there, her eyes wide.

“Ellie!” He yelled through gritted teeth.

“Go!” You screamed at her, bringing your axe around, swinging wide on another person coming for you, just catching their arm. “Get help, get Jesse! Go!”

You circled toward the door, axe up, daring any of them to try to follow her.

“You’re not a part of this!” Abby prowled toward you. “Don’t make me kill you, too.”

“He’s a part of this so I am, too,” you panted. “If you wanna try and kill me, you better do it quick and you better be damn sure you do it right because the second I’m down, that dog will rip your throats out one by fucking one. She’s done it before, I’ve seen it. You’ll have to kill me - which she won’t take lyin’ down - and get to the guns behind me to take her down. She works quick, hell of a lot quicker than me. If you’re fightin’ both of us, you don’t stand a chance. You that confident? I am. So is she.”

Gatling snarled as if on cue.

“Other option is to get the fuck out of here,” you said. Joel could just see you around the dog, blood dripping from your side, lip split open. “We got backup comin’, we’re from a settlement of hundreds and we’ve fought off raiders and infected for fuckin’ years, think we can handle a band of fucking children without much trouble. This worth dyin’ for? Right now, I got your death warrant. Up to you if I sign it.”

“Abby,” one of the men said. “Let’s go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” She snapped. “You want to just go? Now? Let him live?”

Gatling snarled again.

“You’re runnin’ short on time!” You growled, teeth clenched tight. “Now or never!”

“You lost control of the situation,” the man hissed. “We’re not all dying for your fucking revenge mission.”

She turned toward Joel and he watched the hatred and the rage move through her. He watched her think about bringing the club down one more time, just to see if she could land a final, killing blow before the dog struck hers. She moved a fraction of an inch toward him and Gatling adjusted, a vicious bark and a snarl ripping from her.

“He wouldn’t want you to die for this,” the man said quietly, so low Joel doubted you could hear. “And Miller probably won’t survive this, anyway. It’s done. Let’s go.”

“Fine,” she bit out, throwing the club aside. Joel tried his best to follow her with his eyes, praying that she wouldn’t go for you. Once the people had moved away from him toward you and the door, you called Gatling to you, the dog standing between you and the aggressors, snarling and threatening. They left, watching you closely, without a word.

The door closed and you dropped the axe, grabbing a gun from behind you on the ground and limping for Joel, blood dripping down your leg.

“Joel,” you fell to your knees beside him. He tried to say something but all that left him was a pained moan. “You’re OK, I’ve got you, you’re alright…”

“Tommy,” he managed, panting for breath. “Check… Tommy….”

“OK,” you said softly, brushing his hair back from his forehead. “Gatling, guard.”

You snapped your fingers and pointed to Joel again. The dog obediently came and positioned herself between him and the door, body like a coiled spring ready to attack. You went to Tommy and checked his pulse before adjusting him. Joel heard him groan and you said something he couldn’t quite make out before you were back to him, a bag with you this time.

“They’ve gotta have something in here,” you said, ripping through the contents.

“Baby…”

“Tommy’s alright,” you said, glancing at Joel before going back to the bag. “He’s comin’ around. Ellie will be back soon, she’s bringing help, it’s going to be OK Joel, it is…”

“Baby.”

“Hush.”

You found what you were looking for, a bag with some medical stuff inside. You set it nearby and looked over Joel’s back, wincing as you did.

“Need to look at the front of you, too,” you said. “I’m going to roll you over, alright?”

“Baby…”

“Shut up, Joel.”

Your hands shook and he cried out in pain as you moved him onto his back, flinching when you saw his leg.

“Jesus,” you whispered. “What’d they do to you?”

“Baby,” he said again, managing to lift a hand enough to almost reach your face. You took it, gently guiding his bloody palm the rest of the way to your cheek as you leaned down into it. “You’re bleedin’.”

“Oh,” you looked down at yourself. “It’s fine, I’ll be fine…”

“Need to take care,” he had to stop for a second, grinding his teeth through the pain as it wracked his body. It took him a moment to catch his breath. “Care of yourself. I’m… I can’t make it back, not like this…”

“Shut up, Joel.”

“Promised to protect you,” he said, brushing his thumb over your cheekbone. “Lemme do it.”

“Protect me later,” you said, setting his hand down and ripping the bag of medical gear open with your teeth. “Going to put bandages on your leg, see if we can let the tourniquet off, save the leg…”

“Baby.”

“Shut UP, Joel!”

He watched you work for a moment and you felt farther and farther away with every breath. He could feel himself fading and he wished you’d just stop, that you’d take care of yourself and just hold him while he could still feel you.

“Need you to look after Ellie,” he said as you wound bandages around his thigh. “She’s gonna act like she doesn’t need anyone but she does and…”

“And she has you,” you cut him off with a glare. “So it doesn’t matter.”

You released the tourniquet on his leg and it was more of a relief than he’d expected it to be, the pain of it fading to a dull enough roar that he’d forgotten it was there until the weight of it was lifted.

“Gotta get this spot at your side, too…” you adjusted his shirt and leaned over him and he got a better look at your own side, a bright red splotch growing on your shirt, a long gash going from your ribs down toward your stomach.

“You’re bleedin’, sweetheart.”

“I know,” you said. “Getting you fixed up first…”

“Baby.”

“Joel, I swear…”

“Need to get you and Tommy back,” he needed to stop for a second to catch his breath, the rise and fall of his chest straining his ribs. “Can’t… can’t die knowin’…”

“You’re not dying here,” you snapped, your voice thick. “I just got you back, you’re not dying here, you’re coming home and you’re going to be OK and…”

You sat back, looking at the spot on his side that you’d just bandaged, wiping your nose on the back of your wrist as you did.

“Gotta take care of yours now,” he said, eyes tracing the spot at your side. But you shook your head.

“Outta gauze.”

“Baby…”

“It’s not that bad,” you sniffed. “I��ll just… hold pressure until Ellie gets back. It’s OK, you’re gonna be OK, I can’t….”

“Here,” he ground his teeth, breathing through another wave of pain. “Lay… lay with me. Cut side up, keep the blood from flowin’ too easy.”

You looked at him for a moment before nodding and lying delicately next to him. He adjusted as best he could so he could see you, touch you. You’d been hit in the face at least twice, one of your eyes swelling shut and your lip split open. But you were still beautiful, so damn beautiful.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he said softly.

“Joel…”

“Wanted… wanted so much more time with you and the girls,” he said quietly. Your skin was soft, so soft it seemed like the sensation of it might be the only thing holding him to the earth. “I’m so sorry we’re not gettin’ that…”

“Stop talking like that,” you were crying now, not making any attempt to stop it.

“It’ll be OK sweetheart,” he said. “You’ll… you’ll be alright. Ellie’s gonna need you, keep an eye on her for me. Keep her outta trouble. Savvy, too. She loves you… she’ll… she’ll come around…”

“Joel,” you whispered, reaching out to cup his face, your fingers in his curls, one of the only places on his body he wasn’t bleeding.

“I’m so happy we made things right,” he said, his eyes searching yours. He wondered, if he watched you closely enough, if he could bring the precise color of them with him wherever he was going. “I love you so damn much, sweetheart. Need you to know that, OK? I love you.”

“I love you too,” you breathed. Your skin was so soft and your breath was warm on his skin. “I love you. I love you.”

You said it again and again. It was the last thing Joel heard before he passed out.

Next Chapter

A/N: Hi y'all ❤️

Again, begging for you to trust me, OK? OK.

I do love you but... feel free to yell at me in the comments or in my asks or DMs. I'll be responding to asks about the last chapter soon now that this one is up.

Thanks for going on this crazy ride with me!! It truly means the world.

Taglist: @ashleymsnodgrass@planet-marz1@kalea-bane @juneswonderlust@ilovepedro @h-annahayy @starstruckmusiciansartghost@beccerjune@mumma-moonchild@netonetoneto@mellymbee@purplelye@n7cje@flugazi@evyiione@randomhoex@aliengirl99@orcasoul@reds-ramblings@pedropascalsbbg @fupoola @tinypotatothing @knopes-waffles @lilmizmoz @ayamenimthiriel@jenispunk@panda-pascal@sarap-77@flugazi@your-slutty-gf@daniegraceg@partyofone3413@cumberpegg@noisynightmarepoetry.@fifia-writes@grumpygrumperton @srmacaroni @txlady37 @bigboiseason123@ashleyfilm

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #yearling #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller x oc #tlou2 spoilers

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divinemare · 9 months

Note

Hello!! I loved your fic Back to December (love the Taylor Swift reference) and it had me in tears. Is there any way you could write a Liam x reader where they meet on the day on the parapet and then become friends and it slowly turns into a friends to lovers situation? I love your writing and I can’t wait for more Fourth Wing fan fics <3

thank you so muuuuch! you’re so sweet, and thank u for your request!

sorry if this took so long, but I did my best so I hope you like it!

Snow On The Beach

FOURTH WING ONE SHOTS: Liam Mairi x reader

summary: well…need I to explain it? Snow On The Beach - Taylor Swift ft. More Lana Del Rey, duh

tw: none

“It’s gonna be ok, it’s gonna be ok, it’s gonna be ok…”

You repeated over and over again trying to calm the nerves in the erratic beats of your heart.

But was it? You were about to cross the parapet, the most fucking deranged way of welcoming students into their first year. Yet you had actively, willingly chose to be here, to do this.

“Why am I so impulsive,” you murmured under your breath, whining internally about the series of bad choices that had led you to this very moment in your life.

It had all begun with your awful, hating sisters making a passive-aggressive comment about how you couldn’t actually ever survive becoming a dragon rider, how you wouldn’t even survive crossing the parapet to begin with. They were two of the best healers with the best ranks, coming from a long family of the best healers; in the best ranks. All your family had ever done was try to brainwash you into becoming a healer, but you had never actually found the profession interesting at all, you had been obsessed with dragons since the day you learned to talk.

But you had just read about dragons, you had never actually seen one up close, only when they occasionally overflew your city, but that was it, that had been the closest you had ever gotten to a dragon in all your 20 years of life, how were you supposed to survive bonding one? Yeah, you had made a biiig mistake.

First it had been your sisters comments, then everything went downhill when your ego got bruised and offended, and that same day you sent your application to Basgiath for the Riders Quadrant.

An now you were here after your stupid, impulsive decision to shut your sisters mouths up, in the line of stupid people that were about to cross the stupid parapet.

“Hey,” someone touched your arm, but you were so focused in your prayer to the Gods you did not noticed the guy standing in front of you talking, so you jumped in surprise by his touch.

Good Gods, those were some deep blue eyes.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t meant to startle you,” his smile was just as beautiful as his eyes, and just as beautiful as his blond hair as well.

“No worries, I’m just in a perpetuate state of paranoia right now,” he laughed slightly, and you couldn’t help but smile at the deep rich sound.

“You dropped this,” he extended you something, and you looked down at his palm.

You couldn’t help but grimace at the awful necklace that stared right back at you. It had been a “gift”, supposedly.

“You can keep it, my big sister gave it to me, and I’m not entirely sure that she didn’t curse it to give me bad luck,” the guy lifted an amused eyebrow, and you sighed in defeat. “Forget it, I guess I will know if it’s cursed when I fall into my death hearing Malek’s and my diabolic sister’s laugh in my head,” but just as you were about to take the necklace from him, he snatched it back, and you stared up at him with a furrowed brow.

“Now, we don’t want that to happen, do we? I’ll keep it and clean the bad vibes off it for you until you cross the parapet safe and sound,” he put in his pocket, and you couldn’t help but look at him with confusion and amusement at the same time.

“And how do you pretend to do that, exactly?”

“With my charming good vibes, of course,” you stared at him with an eyebrow raised for a second in total silence, but then inevitably laughed out laud.

You saw the guy’s smile lighting up as you tried to cover up your laugh with your hand.

“Liam, by the way,” he extended his hand towards you again, this time with the purpose of introducing himself.

“That’s such a sweet name,” Liam arched an eyebrow with a pleased smile on his thin lips.

“Well thank you, and may I know your sweet name?” You extended your hand to him to go for a shake, and he immediately accepted it with his.

“Y/N.”

“Y/N,” he breathed when you both released each others hands, like tasting your name in his mouth.

“Next,” you both heard someone say behind Liam, and your gazes, that had been held on each other, finally turned towards the guy behind.

Liam’s face fell instantly pale, and you saw how he sucked in a breath for a split second.

You peaked over his shoulder to see the guy standing in front of Liam, and you saw, hands down, the most intimidating man you had ever seen in your life.

In the most arousing way, for some strange reason.

The guy’s face flinched just a split second as well, and you didn’t got to read the looks in their eyes before Liam gave his full name to the man and rushed away, looking back at you and winking an eye before stepping into the parapet.

The weather outside had to be fucked up today, seems like your sister had done a really good job cursing that necklace.

“Name?” The intimidatingly hot guy asked, and you took your eyes away from the blond hair of Liam to set it on the guy’s onyx eyes.

Your eyes couldn’t help but drift to the tattoo peaking out of his shirt.

“Last chance to take a step back,” the dark-haired guy, the Marked One, said.

Through your mind crossed every passive aggressive word your sisters had said, the look of disappointment in your parents eyes when you told them you would not become a Healer. And then, before you could stop your mouth or think outside your pride:

“Y/N Y/L,” you replied, sucking in a breath.

The guy nodded slightly, and the other guy beside him wrote your name on the list he was trying to protect from the rain.

“Good luck,” you saw sincerity in his harsh onyx eyes, and with one last nervous, but thankful smile, you turned around from him.

You took a deep breath, braced yourself, and stepped onto the parapet.

…

You were so close, so so close, you could already see the end of the parapet, feel it, yet the wind was making those last steps harder than the whole way.

Liam’s blonde, wet hair was the first thing you noticed, then his encouraging smile, and then his hopeful eyes.

He stood near the entrance, as if…as if waiting for you.

When you arched your brows slightly, and he deepened his smile, you confirmed it; he was waiting for you.

“You did it, seems no curse is strong enough to stop you,” when you finally stepped into safety, his words were the first thing that greeted you.

With the inicial panic, and overall fear of the parapet finally over, after you gave your name to the girl with the beautiful red hair, you were able to take him in completely. And Holy Gods, your mouth went instantly dry at how gorgeous that man was.

His intense blue eyes, his white sideways smile, his ruffled and wet blond hair, his wide, big shoulders and muscular arms, his height…Gods he was tall. And…and that rebellion relic. You hadn’t seen it before, hadn’t noticed it at the beginning of his wrist and disappearing under his sleeve.

He noticed your eyes lingering on it, and his cocky demeanor immediately changed into an uncomfortable one. You hadn’t meant to make him uncomfortable, it’s just that you had never interacted this much with Marked One, your parents had always told you Marked Ones were awful people, rude and brutal and violent and dangerous. But this guy had been the opposite to all those words they had used to describe him. It didn’t surprise you tho, that your parents had only been full of venom and no truth at all.

Then you started laughing, out of the blue. You just laughed out laud, making everyone around you turn to look at you as if you had grown another head. You may as well have, for how insane you were looking right now.

“I’m sorry,” you tried to say over your laugher. “I’m sorry, I just…I…” But you couldn’t stop laughing.

Liam raised an eyebrow in utter bafflement, but his lips slightly twitched upwards in amusement when you couldn’t help but put a hand on his chest to support your shaking body.

He laughed slightly with you then, your laughter being contagious, and both of you laughed with everyone around you starting to worry you had already lost your marbles.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…oh, my mother is going to have a heart attack,” you laughed, tears already streaming down your face. “And my sisters, good Gods, my sisters are gonna choke in their gasps!”

“Are you ok?” Liam asked with amusement, raising a blond eyebrow.

“I did it!” You beamed.

“You did,” he nodded.

“I did!”

You had survived the parapet, you had actually survived. And it felt so damned good.

“Here, I cleaned the bad vibes for you,” Liam took out your sister’s necklace and gave it to you.

You thanked him, and sighed while looking at the horrible thing.

“At least we’ll know how to recognize your body with this,” those had been your sister’s words, accompanied with faked sorrow and a quick hug.

You looked at Liam with a smile, and then turned around, walking again towards the edge of the end of the parapet and tossed the damned thing out.

“It can rot in hell, for all I care,” you said going back to Liam’s side, and sighing with deep relief.

Liam laughed, and you both made your way to where cadets were being gathered now.

Your new life started right here and right now, and you couldn’t have been more grateful than to start it with a mischievously handsome new friend.

…

“Ouch!” you complained as the healer cleaned your bloodied lip.

“Sorry,” the tiny guy apologized, and you sighed as he continued to clean one of your many wounds.

The mat had been brutal today, probably the most brutal you’ve had so far. Ivana Harlow was a ruthless, massively tall girl who had already killed two of her opponents on the mat, and today, she had almost kicked your ass back to your mother’s womb as well. Luckily for you, Liam had taught you just the right way to break someone’s leg, and even tho every inch of your body was in pain right now, at least your pride was intact.

“Where is she? Is she ok? Can you please let me see her?” A voice you had grown to know so well spoke behind the closed door of the treating room.

You tried to stand from the stretcher, but your body instantly protested in waves of intense pain that made you moan.

“Told you to stay still,” the healer warned you, and you huffed and ok.

The door flew open seconds later, and an extremely concerned looking Liam entered with panted breaths.

“Are you ok?” He sighed in partial relief when he saw you awake, and you tried to smile without a grimace to calm his worries down.

“I’m fine.”

“She’s not,” the healer answered, and you shot him a look that he ignored.

“She’s not?” Liam’s worry came back in a second.

“I am,” you said again, but he was now not paying attention to you but to the healer.

“She has a broken rib.”

“Nothing a mender can’t fix,” you tried to say to calm Liam a little, but his face had already gone pale.

“And a broken ankle.”

“Again, a mender.”

“And her stomach was one punch away from bleeding internally.”

“But it did not happen!”

“And-”

“And can you stop? Before he passes out,” you signaled Liam with your head, who looked so pale you started to worry he may replace you in this stretcher.

“I’ll leave you two,” the healer said, disposing of the bloodied cotton with which he had been cleaning the blood off your lip. “Don’t try to stand up,” he warned you with an accusatory finger, and you only nodded and murmured your thanks.

When it was only you and Liam in the treating room, you smiled at him.

“I’m fine, I am,” he sighed and rubbed his eyes, approaching you with a frown of worry in his beautiful face.

“When Ridoc went to look for me and told me Ivana had left you passed out I ran. I should’ve been there, I’m sorry,” you shook your head and went to grab his hands with yours.

“You had other things to do, besides, Ridoc’s an overly dramatic idiot, I didn’t pass out. Besides, you would’ve been proud, I broke that bitch’s leg after she broke my rib,” Liam finally laughed slightly, and you smiled at the sound.

“I am proud,�� your smile turned into a slight blush, and he let go of one of your hands to take it to your cheek and softly, being extra careful not to touch the red spots that were already turning purple, rubbed sweet circles in it.

“Thank you, for what you taught me,” you said to fill that beating gap in your chest that was making it really hard to breath.

You’ve been lately feeling that way around Liam, specially since he’d been changed to the Flame Section, and you’ve stopped seeing each other as much since then. But every chance he got, he looked for you, and you were grateful he hadn’t yet forgotten about you.

But now every time you got together was even more special than the last one, every training session or glance across the dinning room or time together during class. It hadn’t been until you stoped having him next to you every time that you started noticing the effects of his absence. You missed him more than you thought you would, and you realized you probably liked him more than you thought you did.

It was complicated, he was your friend, and there were yet a lot of things he hid from you, you knew for the way he stoped himself while speaking sometimes or avoided certain topics.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N, you know I would do anything to…” Again, as he now usually did, he stoped himself.

“To what?”

He didn’t answer, only stared into your eyes with his deep blue ones. Every time he looked at you, you felt like you could drown in his ocean eyes and you wouldn’t mind one bit. But you couldn’t explain that, because he was your friend, and nothing else. Or at least he had never hinted he would be up to being something else at all, and you’d seen him flirt, a lot.

“Liam, to what?” You insisted a little more, and when he lowered his head, you released his hand and moved your head away from his other hand.

“To keep you safe, Y/N, I would to anything to keep you safe.”

You stared at him with an open mouth, not knowing exactly what to say, or think of his words. He looked so unlike him with his serious expression and tormented gaze, you couldn’t help but to grab his hand and squeeze it.

“I know,” you murmured in a low, much rasp voice you thought you had at the moment.

“You scared the shit out of me,” he got closer to you, drawing circles in the back of your hand with his thumb, and making your heart stupidly speed up.

“I know, I’m sorry,” he wasn’t looking up from your hands, but he got slowly closer to you until your legs instinctively parted to let him get between them.

“She could’ve killed you, she has already killed opponents,” his other hand went to cup your cheek again, and you felt how the air got trapped on your throat as his intense blue eyes met yours.

“But she didn’t.”

“You broke her leg,” he stroke your cheek delicately, and you couldn’t help but to close your eyes and lean into his sweet touch.

“I did,” you confirmed with a devilish grin, and Liam let out a shaky breath, like he was too having trouble breathing this close to you.

“Gods, Y/N, I can’t believe you’re doing this to me.”

You arched your eyebrows in confusion and pursed your lips, unable to think with clarity at all.

“What? What am I doing now?”

Then Liam backed away from you, so far that you couldn’t reach him now. Suddenly you felt too cold, too unprotected of the harsh breeze that went between you two. You were absolutely confused and out of words, his eyes now didn’t let out a single feeling for you to try to read, and before you could get words out of your already opened mouth, he spoke.

“Get some rest, the mender should be here in no time,” and just like that, he was gone.

What the actual fuck. You asked yourself as you stared at the door with an astonished expression, and a disappointed, turned-down heart.

…

You were fine now, after a week of rest, the pain had completely disappeared, and your energy was back at the top as you excitedly tied the laces of your riding boots, getting ready to finally be able to go on a ride without the ultimate danger of your pain making it way too difficult to hold on. It had been Luainthr, your dragon, who suggested you didn’t step a foot on one of his scales before you fully recover. He had been worried for you, even if he wouldn’t straightforwardly say it.

The door of your bedroom sounded with three simple knocks, and so you strapped your last dagger on your boot before you stood up from your bed and walked towards the door.

Once open, Liam’s tall frame and beautiful eyes looked down to yours, and you abstained yourself from frowning as he took a deep, nervous breath.

You hadn’t seen him since that day in the treating room, when he had you left so abruptly with a knot on your heart and head.

“Liam, what-”

“I made you this,” he didn’t even let you finish speaking when he handed you a little wood-carved necklace.

You almost gasped at the beauty of the hand made magnolia.

Your favorite flower.

“Liam, this is…” You looked up at him with stars of gratitude shining in your eyes, making him smile as well. “Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. To replace the cursed one, I guess,” you couldn’t help but laugh while putting on the beautiful necklace.

Magnolias symbolized endurance and perseverance, both things you had clung onto so tightly since you got here. In one of your late night talks, you had told Liam about your love for magnolias, you hadn’t thought, tho, that he remembered up till now.

“Liam…” You said with a sigh, watching as his shoulders were tense and he sucked in a breath, there was something bothering him, you saw how his blue eyes mimicked a relentless ocean and knew immediately something was up with him. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m sorry,” he said with a sigh, finally getting something he apparently really needed out of his chest. “For how I left the other day, and for not coming to visit you. I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“Why did you leave like that?” He looked away from you, only giving you more reasons to be curious. “Liam, what is it?”

“Because…” He blurted out, seeming to struggle with his words.

Watching Liam flustered like this was something you had never expected to see. He was overly confident, cocky. He flirted his way out and in of everything. He was the best cadet in your year, the best fighter, simply; the best. But here he was, at your door, all flustered and appearing to be a wreck of nerves.

“Because I had to leave you,” there was a certain pain in his eyes that made you feel a crush in your own heart.

“Why?” Your voice was more of a whisper than you anticipated.

“Because I didn’t wanted to kiss you when you were like that, and I desperately wanted to.”

The words struck late in your head, and your eyes widened as they finally did.

You saw it then, how he so desperately wanted to kiss you now too, but you hadn’t said it yet. That you wanted it just as bad.

So you grabbed him by the collar of his jacket and dragged him inside your room, closing your door with your boot before you pushed your lips to his.

His hands wrapped around your waist immediately as yours grabbed both sides of his face. And the most wild, desperate kiss you had ever given took all the rational thoughts completely out of your head.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he moaned in a rasp voice when you both needed some desperate air, nipping your lower lip and making you moan as well.

“Took you long enough,” your voice was just as shaky and out breath when you spoke.

Liam smiled in your mouth, and kissed you deeply again, once, twice, grabbing the back of your neck and tilting your head up, stroking gently but somewhat so possessively your jaw.

“It sure as hell did,” his low voice sent a shiver down your entire body, the sound reverberating in yours, causing heat to rush from the top of your head to the tips of your toes, curling them up, and building an insufferable pulse between your legs.

And he made sure to make up for all that time after that, bringing you to the depths of a pleasure you never thought possible before you had him worshiping every inch of your body.

#fourth wing #fourth wing fanfic #fourth wing fic #liam mairi #liam mairi fic #liam mairi fanfic #xaden riorson #violet sorrengail #the empyrean #rebecca yarros

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treasuringizu · 2 years

Text

-empty night

⇝ izuku midoriya x reader | fluff / sprinkle of angst | izuku midoriya being a dork

⇝ word count: 1.2k

⇝ a/n: it's like i can't write any drabbles less than 1k now😭

⇝ synopsis: izuku is late to your date, but when he shows up you can't help but forgive him.

it’s 9:45 p.m when you look at the clock for probably the thousandth time in the past two hours. he was supposed to be here at 7:30.

you check your phone, and you see notifications from socials, one from your friend, and random apps — but none from the person you want to see the most.

the nice waiter that’s been serving you (you pretend you don’t see his pity glances) refills your glass of water, taking your empty plate of fries. when you check your phone again and there’s still nothing there, you decide that’s when it’s time for you to finally leave instead of hoping for him to show up.

and then you’re walking down the sidewalk, shivering because you forgot to bring a coat, and wallowing in your own sadness. well, a mixture of sadness, disappointment, and maybe anger.

you’ve checked all the news cites to see if anything serious had happened to him, called and texted the man in question but received no answer, and you even called his own friends to try and figure out what was going on, but you got nothing. you just hope that he’s okay at least, and that he had a good reason for standing you up — one that hopefully did not involve any violence.

you’re checking your phone again, dumbly wanting there to be something new like it could have happened in less than a minute, when you see the crackle of green lighting in the night sky.

deku.

izuku.

he lights the darkness up with his quirk, piercing through the sky with god-like speed. you're watching him as he descends to the ground, landing in his stance a few meters in front of you. you blink, and then all you can see is a blur of green as he breaks into a full-on sprint — on the fucking sidewalk.

you can feel your eyebrows shoot up to your hairline, and you know your jaw is on the ground as you watch the pro hero you’re in love with run past you, your clothes flapping in the gush of wind as a result of his speed, fallen leaves flying randomly.

he’s long behind you now, and your brain doesn’t even process anything that just happened as you blink slowly, mouth still open to catch flies. it’s only when you hear his footsteps coming back this way that you turn around, and there he is, jogging towards you. his pace has decreased, enough that you can see him clearly and not just a blur of green lighting.

he’s looking around, searching for something as he continues, and then he spots you. you manage to get your mouth closed by the time he’s almost in front of you, slowing down until he’s standing before you.

you’re staring at him as he wipes sweat from his forehead. he doesn't even look tired from his whole ass marathon, but he’s all disheveled; his curly hair is sticking up in all different places, probably from the flight and then the fucking sprinting, his clothes are wrinkled, and his eyes are wide.

he tries to straighten his appearance — dusting off his shirt and pants, running his fingers through his hair in an attempt to fix it, but the action only makes it worse. his mouth opens and closes multiple times like a fish, trying to find the words to say when all that comes out is a measly- “hi!”

the greeting is accompanied by a sheepish smile that falters when all he gets in return is a frown from you. your mouth opens, but you don’t even get anything out before he breaks down into a babbling mess.

“i’m sorry! I’m so, so, so, so, so, so sorry. i really am! you see — a lot happened - i was in my meeting, counting down the minutes until i could get out of there to finally go and see you, it was all i was looking forward to the entire day, really. but then, the meeting ran over and i tried — i really tried to get my way out of there but you know how they are, so it didn’t work no matter what i did. and when the meeting finally ended, it was already a little late so i rushed home to change and get ready for you, i wanted to look nice and stuff, but i was already a little late. i forgot to call or at least text you through all that drama,”

his hands are now waving all around him in animated gestures as he continues, “by then i was like an hour late, and by the time i was halfway to the restaurant i realized that i had forgotten my phone at the agency so i couldn’t even contact you. and thennn as i was flying, this lady was calling out for help, so of course, i rushed to help her, only for it to end up being her cat stuck in a tree. i tried to get it over with as soon as possible but then she cornered me and practically forced me into her house to give me some coffee as thanks, and i didn't have the heart to tell her that i absolutely hate coffee so i forced it all down. when i left her house it was already dark and i knew that i was beyond late to our date and again, i'm so, so, so, sorry about that even though i know all of this isn't a good excuse for standing you up. i just - i,"

izuku stops in the middle of his sentence, shocked when you wrap your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest and effectively putting a stop to his ramblings.

you breathe him in, nuzzling your cheek against his body, admiring his scent and relishing in his presence. he says your name in a soft murmur, wrapping his own arms around you, the weight strong and heavy.

"i'm glad you're okay," you say.

his head settles on top of yours. "i'm sorry."

"you should be." he tenses, and you think he's about to remove his arms from around you but you squeeze him tighter, smiling into his chest. "only you would stand me up for a grandma. she better have been hot.”

he huffs through his nose in a laugh. “you’re definitely hotter.”

your heart warms, and all the feelings you had earlier melt into contentment now that he's actually here. "keep up with the compliments and i might just forgive you." you let go of him - grinning at the soft whine he lets out - and instead grab his hand, intertwining it with yours.

"I'm still so, so, sorry though. i never meant to leave you there like that."

your hands are swinging back and forth, and you look at him to see him frowning at his shoes like they personally offended him. giving his hand a chaste kiss that makes his cheeks bloom in pink, you reassure him, "stop apologizing, dummy. it's okay, i know you didn't do it on purpose. besides, you saved a cat, which earns you some brownie points."

izuku gives you that grin, the one that can make rainy clouds go away. "that's true." he pauses, bending down to give your cheek a kiss. "i love you"

"love you too, stupid."

#izuku x reader #deku x reader #midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #mha x reader #bnha x reader #izuku #deku #bnha imagine #izuku imagine #izuku fic #deku fic #.izuku #.fics #.kc writes

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ladywindmasterr · 1 year

Text

Jiang Cheng did his best to not press his fingertips together, something he did when he was nervous but had to avoid in order to appear more serious, especially at that moment, when he was discussing something important.

“That's why I came to see you, Daozhang. I don't know why this is happening to me, but I hope that you know what is happening to my core…” The he sect leader said, looking at Xiao XingChen's blind and covered eyes. As if he was going to realize...

"It has come to my knowledge that you are-... that you were the shidi of Wei WuXian, my martial nephew. Please, you don't have to act so polite with me" Xiao XingChen smiled, in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Jiang Cheng closed his eyes momentarily when the cultivator mentioned his brother-… Wei WuXian. An indescribable feeling flooded his chest, and he couldn't exactly determine if it was negative or positive.

It had been two years since his death, but Jiang Cheng could see his blood-smeared body disappear over the edge of the cliff every time he closed his eyes. With clarity. Especially his expression.

No.

“As you wish, Daozhang. So, do you have any ideas?"

XingChen only moved his face so that his eyes were facing the ground.

“I don't know, Sect Leader. Those symptoms could mean many things… There really are many possibilities,” the cultivator wandered aloud.

Jiang Cheng's brow furrowed .

"Many possibilities"

...So there was for sure at least one with a bad ending.

"But since you've come to see me specifically, I think you have an idea of what could be happening. Am I wrong?" Xiao XingChen carried on.

He, in fact, wasn't wrong.

Jiang Cheng had been searching, relentlessly searching every library he could set foot on. Although he had found several possibilities, there was one that, although it did not seem very likely, was the most accurate due to his symptoms.

“Daozhang, I think it has something to do with the legacy of Baoshan Sanren's students. I came looking for you because you are one of the few that are still out there, and also are quite famous in the cultivation world for it.

Xiao XingChen nodded gravely.

"I supposed. Everything you've told me... The energy full episodes, the burning feeling inside you, the crashes that follow... Sounds very similar ike what I had to endure"

"I have a question, Daozhang" Jiang Cheng couldn't contain his doubt "It's just that I've never been a student of Baoshan Sanren nor am I a descendant of any.

Xiao XingChen seemed curious about it, which was good for Jiang Cheng. If he was curious, he would help him sort it all out.

"Well, Sect Leader, it is not necessary to study with the Master or descend from someone who has done it... There are cases, very rare, in which she manipulated a Core that later had that reaction. Had your ever...?"

The question was hanging in the air. Had he ever been injured so badly that he had been taken to none other than Baoshan Sanren?

“During the Sunshot Campaign…” Jiang Cheng began. It was going to be complicated. He sighed

"You may have heard about the annihilation of my clan in the hands of the Wen. They kidnapped me, and in an attempt to extract information, they ripped my Core out."

"Oh"

Even with the top of his face covered, surprise was visible on Xiao XingChen's face.

"Wei WuXian took me to see Baoshan Sanren. We pretended that I was him and asked her to restore my core. It went well, so that's probably it."

Jiang Cheng relaxed as he connected all the dots. He finally knew where it all came from, apart from the fact that if Xiao XingChen, who had also suffered from it, was in front of him, it meant that he would not die or anything worse

However, the aforementioned did not seem to be very sure about anything. Instead, he seemed even more curious.

"Are you completely sure that the one who helped you was my Master? I don't mean to call you a liar, but..."

The tranquility that had been in Jiang Cheng's mind was gone as quickly as it had appeared.

"But?" He allowed himself to get a little impatient.

Xiao XingChen moved his head to the side.

"Well, I think Baoshan Sanren is not capable of doing that."

Jiang Cheng's impatience turned into disbelief.

"What?"

"That's right, Sect Leader. I'm sorry, but my master is not capable of such a feat. What's more, she is incapable of even doing slightly easier things. For example, when I asked her to heal my dear Song Lan's eyes, she couldn't. She could only exchange my... Oh."

Xiao XingChen suddenly went completely still. He pursed his lips, as if trying not to say something. That only angered Jiang Cheng, who just wanted to hear about his strange condition.

"What's happening?"

Xiao XingChen did not reply.

"Daozhang?"

Nothing.

Jiang Cheng could feel his frown growing more pronounced

“Xiao XingChen!” he yelled, forgetting all etiquette. The rising anxiety in his chest was about to burst.

"Jiang Wanyin, are you in a headspace where I could give you information that could possibly hurt you?"

'What kind of question is that?'

The change from formal title to courtesy name had not gone unnoticed by Jiang Cheng, who could only imagine the severity of the situation or the circumstances that had provoked such a change.

"Right now, the only thing I want is to know what is happening to me. If I have to get a bit scared to achieve it, then so be it."

Xiao XingChen sighed. He didn't seem to know how to put whatever thoughts he was having into words.

"Just to make sure, before saying anything to you, could you let me touch your wrist for a moment?"

Jiang Cheng was even more confused.

"Of course?" The sect leader stretched out his arm, wrist up, in the direction of the cultivator.

Xiao XingChen just grabbed it without another word and spent a few seconds with his fingers sliding over his wrist.

He withdrew them, an indescribable expression on his face.

"Sect Leader, are you completely sure that it was Baoshan Sanren that you saw?“

"What's the point of asking that question again!?”

Jiang Cheng had already totally lost his patience, and his fists were clenched tightly. Xiao XingChen seemed not to want to mince words.

"I'm not asking just because I want to. From what I can feel... Jiang Cheng, the golden core inside you is that of your brother's"

Jiang Cheng was about to respond with the "I don't have a brother" he was used to when he realized.

Wei Wuxian.

...

No. There was no way.

Jiang Cheng herad himself muttering a weak "What?" to the man in front of him, who only repeated what he had previously stated.

"You have Wei WuXian's golden core"

Jiang Cheng looked at him, with a shadow in his eyes and his whole body shaking.

"It's a lie. It's a lie. It's a lie. No one can rip out a golden core and stuff it inside another person. There were no doctors with Wei Wuxian, it couldn't have happened, without any…"

A female face framed by soft dark hair and a Wen robe appeared in his mind.

Wen Qing.

No. No. No. It isn't true. Everything is a lie. You are making it up.

Wei WuXian wouldn't have done that, never. He was so proud of his cultivation. There was no way, he wouldn't have been able to use suibian!

Another image appeared in his mind. Wei WuXian, in his last months of life.

With not even a sword scabbard dangling at his hip.

Jiang Cheng heard himself scream, and felt his trembling hands cover his wet eyes.

He felt someone touching his shoulder and speaking to him, but he paid no attention.

He only thought of everything that Wei WuXian had sacrificed for him.

Everything that his brother had sacrificed for him.

And now it was gone. He didn't have his brother, his sister, not even the peacock or his parents. Only a baby nephew that would grow without parents.

He was alone.

SO. UM. YEAH.

Credit for this amazing idea goes to @mikkeneko

I'm so glad I was able to write this!! Even thought it's a bit ooc mainly because I've never written any mzds fics or anything lol.

Also, keep in mind english isn't my first language and excuse any weird grammar/spelling

#Luz writes sometimes #mzds #Mo dao zu Shi #Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation #Jiang Cheng #xiao xingchen #Mzds #Mzds fic #writing #Luz rambling

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storyofmychoices · 8 months

Text

Between Coffee & Cases: an unexpected day

[Trystan Thorne x Lilah Rose Masterlist]

Pairing: M! Trystan Thorne x Lilah Rose (F!MC) Book: Crimes of Passion II Word Count: ~800 Rating/Warning: General (no warnings)

Synopsis: Lilah is pouring over the clues they've uncovered, looking for the missing piece, when Trystan surprises her with a special offer.

Lilah's suite had become a whirlwind of organized chaos, strewn with case files and crime scene photographs. Her mind was fully absorbed in the intricacies of the two murder cases in Drakovia that had been overwhelming her life for far too long.

A soft knock on the door disrupted her concentration. She glanced up to see Trystan standing there, a warm smile on his lips. "Hi."

Lilah's eyebrows knitted together. She hadn't expected to see him. Despite herself, she suppressed her smile. "What brings you here, Your Highness? I thought you were needed for Kingly duties tonight."

"This is where I'm supposed to be." He reassured her, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. He held out a large steaming cup of coffee. "I thought you could use some fuel to keep you going."

A sarcastic smile pulled on her lips. "Thanks, I hadn't noticed the dark circles forming under my eyes after staring at these files for hours."

"You make a very beautiful raccoon," he teased. Trystan handed her the cup, his gaze lingering on her with a mix of admiration and affection.

Lilah accepted his offering. She settled back onto the floor amid her scattered materials, taking a grateful sip of the coffee.

Trystan sat beside her, captivated by her dedication and brilliance. She was something special. Every prospective bride his mother paraded in front of him was missing one thing. They weren't her. He brushed a stray strand of hair behind her ear, planting a gentle kiss on her temple.

She shook her head slightly, raising an eyebrow. "I appreciate the caffeine boost, but don't get any ideas about distracting me."

He feigned innocence. "Oh, I'm focused, too." His fingers turned her chin gently toward him.

"I'm not sure we're focused on the same thing." She bit back her smile as she met his gaze. He was still there. Her Trystan. In these moments, it's all she saw. If only they could leave now, head back to New York and pretend none of this ever happened. If only, her smile faulted.

Trystan held up a small, green velvet box between them. "I have something for you." Before she could respond, he opened it to reveal a snake signet ring on a long chain. Intricate inscriptions adorned the inside of the ring, written in Drakovian. Lifting the ring from the box, Trystan draped the chain over her head, allowing it to rest around her neck.

"It's my family's ring," he explained, a softness in his voice. "Each of us has one. It signifies our family and status."

"Of course, it does." And just like that, Crown Prince Trystan flickered to light again. "Why am I wearing it?"

A gentle smile played on his lips as he watched her turn the ring over between her fingers. "Because it's important to me. This ring is believed to protect the wearer, to ward off harm as long as it's close. It's never supposed to leave my possession, but with you, I know it's safe. You have no idea what your presence in my life means to me. You are the most important thing to me."

Her guard wavered as she absorbed his words. Her eyes filled with a vulnerability she had worked hard to keep locked away. "I don't know what to say..."

"Don't say anything." He leaned in, pressing a lingering kiss on her lips. "Happy Birthday," he whispered against them.

Her tender expression twisted to confusion. "It's not—Is it?" She turned away quickly, grabbing her phone, reading the date—August 27. "I didn't realize."

Trystan's smile remained gentle as he took her hand. "I know you're not one for celebrations, Lilah. But you deserve to be remembered." His thumb brushed over her knuckles.

A whisper of gratitude escaped her lips. "Thank you."

"I love you, Lilah."

Her reply was lost on his lips as she kissed him. "I love you, too."

As they parted to catch their breath, matching smiles on their faces, Trystan had one more surprise. "We can stay here—" He gestured to the case files before her. "I am happy to get you as much coffee as you need."

"But?"

"If you are interested, there may be a romantic dinner for two waiting in my suite," Trystan continued, "with a triple chocolate cake... extra chocolate, just for you.... no candles. no singing. no pressure... unless you want your own very special serenade. It's up to you. I'm here for whatever you need today."

"You make a very tempting offer," she considered.

"The dinner, cake, or the serenade?" His brow rose curiously.

"Oh, the cake for sure. Chocolate and coffee, you sure know the way to my heart... or stomach?" She smiled as she accepted the hand he offered her, lifting her off the floor.

"Then shall we go?"

"I'd like that." She nodded softly. "And, Trystan?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

He wrapped his arm around her, pressing a kiss to the crown of her head. "It's my pleasure."

Thank you so much for reading. I hope you enjoyed this rushed attempt at a birthday fic. I saw her birthday coming, but clearly neglected it to just now. I don't feel like Lilah is big on birthdays and celebrations. It just reminds her what she's missing. I think Trystan would try to bring her joy on her special day, even if it's just the two of them.

#trystan thorne #trystan thorne x mc #crimes of passion #choices crimes of passion #crimes of passion choices #playchoices #choices game #choices book club #lilah rose #trystan x lilah #lovealexhunt #fan fiction #august2023

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fallingforunrealisticromance · 2 years

Text

By your side. Forever - 11th doctor x reader

A/N: i guess disappearing for months on end is my new thing!! Anyways, HI! What are peoples thoughts on david tennants glorious return to doctor who??

Summary: Based on S5 Ep3 Victory of the Darleks

Warnings: None

***= time skip

Requests

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

We stood on the roof looking out onto a version of London I'd only ever seen in the picture of a history book - WW2 England. We could hear the planes above us as we gazed at the Zeplins floating across the city.

"I can't believe it" I said, almost in a whisper

"Can't believe what?" The doctor turned his gaze towards me.

"I'm in London. World war two London! I mean this is insane. You do know i literally wrote an essay on this exact time period to pass my history GCSE and now here i am!" I laughed taking in the sights

The doctor beamed at me. "It is pretty cool, isnt it"

"Even cooler that you seem to be best pals with the prime minister. Which you failed to mention when i asked you to tell me about yourself i might add." I said, jabbing him with my elbow.

"Well, in all fairness, it slipped my mind." He replied whilst fidegting with his bow tie.

"It slipped your mind?? How exactly do you forget your friends with one of the most influential men in british histor-"

But my remarks were cut short as suddenly a Nazi plane was shot down above us. More like incinerated. My heart stopped. My blood ran cold. I would know that electric beam anywhere. Instinctively The doctor grasped my hand, threading his fingers through mine. My grip was as strong as his. We were frozen in fear, the gravity of the situation collapsing in on us. They can't be here. Not now.

"Please. No" I begged. The doctor pulled my closer to him as he marched over to Winston.

"What was that? Where the hell did that come from?" His voice was low but the fear and anger that ran through his was evident.

"I told you Doctor, I'm willing to win me this war, by any means necessary. And Bracewell has provided with a solution." He gestured to the man standing above us.

I wanted to run. I wanted to drag the doctor back to the TARDIS, fly away and pretend it never happened. But I couldn't. Our fears were confirmed by the sound of metallic wheels appearing from behind the wall of sandbags. My stomach dropped.

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

"No..." The doctors breathing sounded panicked, his voice quiet as if he wasn't aware he was speaking out loud. We were back inside now, yet still the daleks were here.

"No you- you can't be here. I destroyed you. How are you here?" His tone was increasing. He fidgeted with his hands in an attempt to calm himself down which was failing miserably.

"HOW ARE YOU HERE" He bellowed, moving towards the metal monster in front of him.

"I am here to serve you." The robotic voice replied.

"NO! No you are my ENEMY. YOU WANT NOTHING MORE THAN DESTRUCTION" He yelled.

"I do not understand" The robot looked around.

I stood back, watching the doctor with a heavy heart. I knew what this meant for him.

"Doctor please would you calm down." Winston churchill said looking rather confused.

"Calm down? How the hell am i supposed to calm down when you have a DARLEK planted right in front of me" His eyes flamed with rage as his chest rose as a hurried pace.

"They are not darleks they are my ironsides!" Bracewell insisted but the doctor ignored him.

"No matter what I do. No matter how hard I fight. They always come back. Always. They still remain while i lose everything." The doctor began pacing up and down, running his fingers frantically through his hair.

"Doctor." I called. He continued to pace

"My planet, my people.

"Doctor" I tried again, moving towards him.

"Rose, oh god Rose. Her family-"

"DOCTOR" I shouted, standing in front of him with my hands planted firmly on his chest, causing him to look up at me. The eyes I was met with were not the kind, loving brown ones i'd grown so fond of - rather a panicked cloud of despair.

I placed my hands on his shoulders in order to keeping him steady.

"You are okay." I stated.

"No. None of this is okay. No matter what i do they always come back. I can't-" He looked utterly broken. My heart hurt for him. "I can't lose anything else. Not to them." He admited, looking at the floor.

"I know. I how terrifying this is for you. Look at me." I said, my tone soft. His eyes raised once again to meet mine.

"You are not alone. I was there with you at canary warf." He flinched slightly at the memory. "And I am here with you now." I reached my hand down and linked it with his.

"I am not leaving you. This isn't a burden you are expected to carry alone. Whatever you decide, I will follow you. You have the strength. You can do this." I said hoping he would understand the sincerity behind my words.

He gazed back at me, the panic having been replaced with a sense of fascination. Slowly, he raised his free hand to cup my face.

"You are the one thing i've come across in this world that is a genuine beauty to know." His words took me by surprise, causing my cheeks to flush red. No one had ever showed me such kindness in their words.

Before I could recover from what he'd said, he leant forward bringing his lips to mine. His arm wrapped around my waist, pulling me flush against him. My arms wrapped around his neck, threading their way through his soft hair. His lips moulded against mine moving in perfect rhythm. He kissed with such genuine love and passion it took my breath away.

Eventually we pulled away from each other, my forehead resting against his. My lips already felt empty without him. I was grinning like an idiot as I opened my eyes and peered up at him.

"I've been waiting for that." I whispered, chuckling slightly.

"I didn't realise quite how badly i wanted to do that until just know." He replied, smiling twice as hard.

An awkward cough came from beside us as Winston shuffled uncomfortably. The doctors face flushed red from embarrassment as if he'd forgotten where we were.

"Oh don't be so british, Winston. I'm sure this isn't the first time you've witnessed a kiss or two." I said, winking at him.

The doctor laughed as he pulled me into his side once more, his arm firmly around my waist. I turned back to him before glancing at the Darlek disappearing down the corridor. I was just as scared as he was. Everything in me was telling me to run, take the doctor to safety. But that wasn't us. We helped. We saved people. We stayed.

I looked up at the time lord. "Ready to save the world?" I asked with a grin.

"You bet." He replied, grabbing my hand and pulling me out of the room.

God was i in love with that man.

#doctor who #the doctor #doctor who fan art #11th doctor #eleven #11th doctor x reader #11th doctor x you #matt smith #matt smith x reader #timelordgifs #time lords #tardis #bbc doctor who

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kiryoutann · 1 year

Text

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

I appreciate the likes, replies, and reblogs! Thank you so much. If you like what I do, you can consider donating to my Kofi. Once again, thanks so much!

Sanlyre flower proved effective to neutralize the poison. After Kusanali ordered the healers to collect it from the rain forest, it was crushed before being given to the villagers following to your suggestion. From this case, apart from academic scholars becoming interested in experimenting with looking for pesticides that have minimal effect on nature, Forest Watcher pays more attention to each agriculture in Sumeru.

You swept your eyes around you with a smile. Although still in the process of recovering from grief, the village of Gandharva was once again bustling with young children running around healthily. Kusanali approached you and stopped to stand next to you.

“A heartwarming sight, isn't it?”

You give her a nod. "Very." You agree with her.

"The people of Sumeru... I would trade anything to see them smile forever." Her voice is soft, full of sincerity that makes you turn your face to her. Kusanali did the same, giving you a small smile after. “Surely none of this would have happened without you. I am truly indebted to you and His Highness Prince Childe.”

"I just do what I believe to be right." You replied back, fixing your gaze on the laughing children surrounding Childe. “After all, how can I do nothing when it concerns them?”

Following your eyes, Kusanali land her green irises on Childe. The children obviously adored him. Two of them were dangling around his legs while one was being carried on his shoulder, they all had large smiles on their faces. She returned her attention to you when she heard you giggle.

"His Highness is very good with children." She commented, watching a proud smile plaster on you.

“He is.”

"He really loves you too."

Kusanali saw your smile fall as you turned to her as if she had just cursed you. Her brow furrows above her green eyes, almost reflecting the expression on your face. You almost want to deny it but, you realize that is exactly how it's supposed to look like.

"Ah," you gathered the words in your head. "We are husband and wife after all.”

Kusanali isn't known as the Goddess of Wisdom for nothing. Although you pretend to blush from her comments, you will not always succeed in hiding what is truly going on between you and Childe. Unlike most people, Kusanali can read you more than you think.

How complicated your relationship is. In front of people, you both act like a loving married couple—thinking it was just a deception. While in the truth, you really do love each other.

However, though she is eager to help you in clearing the fog, she knows this is something that only you and Childe must deal with. With a small smile that adorns her face, Kusanali hopes that you won't be too late to realize that.

The diplomatic visit ended the next day. In the morning, the maids are already busy loading your and Childe's belongings onto the carriage that will take you to the port to return to Snezhnaya. You were busy getting ready in your room while Childe was in Kusanali's study.

"I have prepared it as you requested."

Childe turned to Kusanali after she finished speaking. He landed blue eyes on the white cloth, which was lifted to reveal a single flower with shining petals emanating a color he loved.

“Ramon, one of Sumeru's most exquisite blooms.” Kusanali said

"Good."

Kusanali told the servant to wrap the flower in extra fabric. After he confirmed it was safe, she ordered it to be carried onto the carriage with extra care. She once again turned to Childe.

"You have done a lot Sumeru, yet, all you asked for was a single flower?" To be sure, she inquired.

The man turned to face the window, making his figure a silhouette. He caught sight of you standing not far from the carriage, chatting with the Sumeru nobles who would be bidding their farewells to the two of you later.

"I intend to place it in a garden." he told her.

Before Kusanali could respond back, a knock on the door made them both turn to Dmitri who entered after being invited. After bowing to her, he hurried to Childe's side while holding something small in his hand. He handed the Prince a handkerchief, and Kusanali saw the needlework on it.

“Yarrow flowers.” she smiled. "Do you know the meaning of that?"

“Bravery.” Childe responded with certainty.

Something cracked a smile on the girl's face. "Did you know there's another meaning to that?" She asked.

For a few moments, Childe was silent in thought.

"Peace?" He tries, but she shakes her head. "Hmm.. friendship?"

A laugh escaped her. “Please try to guess again, Your Highness.” She says.

He hesitated before saying, “Love?”

Her green eyes sparkled with enthusiasm. "Almost." She watched Childe let out a breath before giving him the answer,

"Eternal love."

Childe froze in place the moment Kusanali spoke those words. He looked around for signs she was lying to him yet, all he found was a gentle smile that lifted her round cheeks. Kusanali repeated exactly the same sentence.

Eternal love.

A love that makes 'forever' seem insufficient. The kind of love that never ends, a love so strong that nothing in the world can erase it—not even death. If another universe actually did exist, perhaps it would even be able to travel through time and space to be found again.

Kusanali landed her gaze on the handkerchief that Childe was firmly holding. "I assume the handkerchief was given to you." When she said that, the memory of you giving it to him flashed through his head.

“I wonder which meaning she embroidered for you.”

At that time, Childe thought the meaning of the yarrow flower you embroidered for him was your wish for his courage—after all, you gave it on the first day of the hunt. But now that Kusanali had said that, he too was left wondering.

For the first time, Childe wished his presumption had been incorrect.

Kusanali turned around towards the door with a satisfied smile. She has played her part to push you both.

At the front of the Surasthana palace building, you turn when you hear the sound of footsteps. Childe and Kusanali came out followed by Dmitri and Alhaitham. You excused yourself from your conversation with the nobles and went over to them.

“Lord Kusanali.” You greet her.

“Your Highness.” She turned to the stagecoach that was ready. “To having to part ways with you is such a terrible thing."

“I hope this separation is not forever. Know that we will treat you at Snezhnaya just as wonderfully as you have treated us these last several days.” You bowed to her, "Until we meet again, Lord Kusanali."

The girl's hand cupped yours. “Please,” Her big green eyes looked at you before she continued, “call me Nahida.”

Definitely not what you were anticipating. Even so, you welcomed her request with a big smile. Another friendship in the making—one you hope will help you achieve your goal of making the world a little bit warmer.

“I hope we will meet again, Nahida.”

Your conversation concludes with Childe holding out his hand to you, leading you to your carriage. After the servants closed the door for you, you gave Nahida and Alhaitham—who, surprisingly, smiled at you—one more glance.

Not long after, the horse-drawn carriage sped off, bringing this diplomatic visit to an end; taking you both back to Snezhnaya.

“Ensure that it is well implanted."

As soon as you reached Snezhnaya, Childe dismounted the carriage and gave an order. The maids nodded and carried the cloth-covered object carefully. You let go of his hand after your flat shoes stepped on the ground.

"What is that?" you ask.

“Ah, that?” Childe smiled. “Ramon Flower.”

Your brow furrowed, "Did the Lord give it to you?"

"No, I requested it."

A pause. "I didn't realize you were an admirer of flowers." You remarked.

"I like the color."

When he turns to look at you, you feel like he's been looking into your eyes for too long so you're the one who turns your head to Dmitri who is busy arranging for the maids in charge of unloading both of your belongings. However, that didn't last long as the confidant then made his way towards you and Childe.

"Forgive the interruption, but the tax meeting is about to begin." Dmitri informed him.

Childe sighed, "I still have a lot of work to do, huh?"

Dmitri quickly nodded. “That's true, but,” –his serious face turned into a grin the second he landed his eyes on you–“perhaps if you give His Highness a word of encouragement, he will be able to get through this long day well.”

“A word of encouragement?” you ask.

When you turned your gaze to Childe, you didn't expect his expression. Blue eyes are fixedly unwavering onto you behind slightly arched brows. Underneath his rosy cheeks, his pink lips pouted slightly as he silently waited for something.

Wait, was he really waiting for it?

You looked up at Dmitri and noticed that his face was quite similar to Childe's, except that instead of pursed, his lips parted wide as he stared at you with hope he didn't hide. You hold in a sigh and give the two of them a fake smile.

"Your Highness, please don't trouble Dmitri."

The 'word of encouragement' that came out of your lips broke Childe's expectations. His lips curved downwards. “Those are your words of encouragement?” Childe protested.

You intended to hold back your laughter at first, but it's difficult now because he looks just like a grumpy deer. The more you laughed, the more his brows wrinkled. You want to pinch his puffy cheeks.

“God,” you wiped your tears while suppressing your laughter. "I'm sorry, that was funny."

Even though Childe was irritated, his chest warmed up after hearing you laugh. It's better than everything, it's more beautiful than everything.

"Then, let me try it once more." You said.

The world held its breath for that fleeting moment when you broke out a smile in the middle of Snezhnaya's summer. It chilled his heart like cold water on the hottest day, it quenched his thirst like a traveler who has just found an oasis after a long journey through the desert; yet, at the same time, his chest swells from how much you make him feel like he's the only one receiving sunlight.

“Please do your duty well, Your Highness.”

Childe will choose your voice over any instrument. Childe will appreciate those words over any poetry. No musician could make him like this, no poet could make him like this. Only you, you alone.

If it wasn't for Dmitri waking him up, he would already be an idiot standing in front of you with a red face. You watched your husband's back move away, waving at Dmitri mouthing his thanks to you.

“Your Highness?”

Your head turns to Laura, "Laura, what's wrong?"

"I wanted to inform you that your older brother is here on a visit."

Your brows went upward in surprise when you heard it. "Shiva?" You see her nodding yes to your question. "Where is he now?"

“He is in a meeting to see His Majesty the King.”

It wasn't unusual for Shiva to meet a ruler from another country—considering he would be the one to inherit the throne to become the next emperor of Liyue—but, you'd be quite surprised he didn't tell you about his arrival some time before this. Your feet carry you into the palace of Zapolyarny followed by your ladies-in-waiting. You walk down a long hallway but, stop when you encounter a familiar figure.

“Brother?”

The long-haired man turned to you. Shiva looked at you with a smile on his face and afterwards approached you to give his sister a closer greeting.

“I thought you were speaking with His Majesty.” You tell him.

"I thought so too however, his confidant stated he was still talking to the others. More time for me to explore." He examines you from head to toe, making a facial expression you don't understand. "I'm shocked you're doing well here."

Your brows furrowed with distaste, "What are you implying?"

“I thought your bastard of a husband—"

"Brother."

You interrupt him with a glare, glancing sideways warning him not to be disrespectful since your maids are right behind you (plus, one of them is Childe's spy). Shiva put his hands up in surrender, yet you could tell he'd do it again because of the way he smirked afterwards.

“Prince Shiva!”

The deep voice of the new person echoed throughout the hallway. You and Shiva turned to the King who was beaming in your direction, behind him Duke Maxim and his secretary trailed behind. He nodded accepting the bows of the ladies in waiting behind you before stopping right in front of you.

“Please excuse my tardiness,” He chuckled, shaking your brother's hand. “the Duke enticed me with the red wine he just brought from Zhilchik.”

That last sentence made you and Shiva turn to the handsome man next to him. He bowed politely, greeting you and your brother. You flashed a faint smile in return, hoping it was enough to hide your awkwardness as the tea party incident that ended in disaster replayed in your brain.

“No problem. My sister keeps me entertained with rather interesting conversations.”

From your mention, the King turned his attention to you. “That reminds me, how is Sumeru? Has the Lord treated you well?” he asked.

You give him a deep nod, “Of course, Your Majesty.” You then continued, "The Lord looks forward to meeting you on our next diplomatic visit,"

The King's thunderous laughter almost startles you. He smiles behind his bushy beard, giving you a light pat on the arm. "Is that true? In that case, I really ought to make time for it..” He slipped it in between his laughs. "Are you available? Come have tea with us."

"Ah?" You glanced at Shiva before turning back to the older man with a nervous laugh. “I can't possibly do that. This is a meeting between Your Majesty and His Highness Prince Shiva.”

“This is not a formal occasion. Besides, I want to hear about your visit to Sumeru.” He says.

“I agree with His Majesty.” Shiva replied, not taking your side.

"So it's decided then," The King raised a broad smile as he snapped his fingers to summon his secretary to his side. “Vlad, add one more chair for Princess (Y/N). Wait, make that two! Duke, you promised to have tea with me, right?”

Maxim smiled and replied, “Of course, Your Majesty.”

In the end, you sat at the same table with the King, the Duke, and Shiva at the sumptuous table set up. Unlike the tea parties you usually organize and attend, the lack of flowers on the table constantly reminds you that you shouldn't be here. You feel insecure afraid of preventing them from discussing about crucial diplomatic issues.

The servant poured the tea carefully into the three cups, bowing after he finished. You stare at the brown color that reflects you in it. The sweet aroma of tea greeted your nose.

“I ordered the cooks to prepare the most delicious tea here. Though, I don't believe it can compare to Liyue's.”

To prove his point, the King entwined his fingers around the cup's handle and brought it to his lips. He took a sip, but, rather than having a satisfied expression, he furrowed his brows before coughing hard. Hurriedly, he quickly put down the cup to cover his cough with his fist.

The King took the handkerchief next to his plate. However, instead of subsiding, the cough was worse than before. You and Shiva turned to each other.

“Your Majesty, are you alright—”

Before you finish your words, your gaze catch the color which then stains the handkerchief in his hand. Your eyes widen as you watch the liquid dripping from his lips and landing on his shirt, tablecloth, and cup.

Blood. Lots of blood.

The coughing got worse as the background noise grew louder. Vlad rushed to run to the King before he hit the floor. Your back feels cold, but for some reason you can't look away from watching the tea spilling from the cup.

Déjà vu.

Your hands are shaking just like when you drank the poison that was actually meant for Lumine. Even though your heart is racing, the absence of the burning sensation in your throat is what makes you realize that you haven't taken poison.

Why, then, was the King now writhing in agony on the floor?

You stiffened in your seat until Shiva pulled your hand away from the table. Meanwhile the maids and guards had been running to summon healers. Vlad was clearly perspiring as he continued to call out to the King in hopes of receiving a response.

“The tea has been poisoned!!”

Duke Maxim's loud voice startled you. The tea has been poisoned? You don't know what to think. Shiva took you in his arms hoping it would calm you down.

“The tea has been poisoned!! The king has been poisoned! Maids! Quickly throw away this tea!”

But how? Incidents like this—why didn’t you see any of this?

Despite your erratic breathing, you try to calm your mind while hoping that the ringing in your ears subsides. You glanced at the teacup, then at the bloodstains and then at the healers who had barged in through the door and immediately checked on the man who was now unconscious.

Then, it hits you.

Your fingers trembled as they peeled off the others. Your breath catches at the end of your throat. Shiva's hand that should comfort you has never felt so foreign.

Shiva.. did he do this?

"Maids!! Hey! You heard me?! Throw this tea away!”

Tea, coughing up blood, loss of consciousness. You experienced all of that after swallowing the poison he put in Lumine's cup. But, if he really is the brains behind all this, what drives him to do it? And why do you feel his chest as pounding as yours?

One of the healers broke your train of thoughts by breaking the most shocking news that then reverberated through the room,

"The King.. he’s gone."

AbbyBianx, ness

@thelovelydiviner @r0ttenhearts @tsunotaro-san @yguchild @a-random-bored-person @ajaxstar @dandelimoonus @deemayaz @sxztus @meiraloves2dmen @bananazzzen @sugarxbxby123 @httpmitsuya @kaiyoschaos @ganyuzuri @enviouspeanut @justreadings @nat1203 @creamiepudding @childes0nlywife @hieraethx @r0se-r4men @cyn9 @bluelovesleep @sucrosia @undecidingfate @funicidals @geozhong @chipzho

If I wrote your username wrong, please let me know TT_TT For those who can’t be tagged, please make sure the setting for "Allow this blog to appear in search results” is turned on.

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scented-morker · 2 years

Text

wc. 1.27k, pretty much pure fluff, idol!jake x idol!reader, part of the swifting series but super short so I’m sorry about that… no warnings really

It was getting harder, you realized. Harder to be at the same place as Jake and pretend to be strangers, or at the most friendly colleagues. To see him in interviews and award shows and pretend you don’t kiss away his frowns and hold his hand late into the night.

“Now, yn, there has been a lot of speculation around your romantic life, would you like to comment on that?”

You would like to comment on it, very much so. You’d like to tell them how head over heels you were for your boyfriend and how happy you were with him. You’d also like to comment on how negative comments about you only made him upset and for that reason specifically fans needed to back tf up.

However, the staff behind the camera gave you an almost imperceptible shake of their head and you had to once again give a noncommittal answer.

“I don’t really have anything to say on that front, none of us are under a dating ban anymore so it could happen, but right now I’m just focusing on our wonderful fans and our new album coming out thursday!”

You could tell no one in the room was convinced, and the interviewer actually glared at you for dodging their question, but your manager gave you a thumbs up and you continued on with the interview.

“Why are these interviewers so nosy?” Yeji fumed after the show. “They kept grilling us about personal stuff when we were supposed to talk about the album.”

“I mean it might have to do with the fact that yn and Jake can’t be in the same building without looking like lovesick puppies,” Ryujin started, quickly recovering from your leader's glare, “but still yeah, totally out of line.”

You were about to retaliate, already having the “we literally don-” out of your mouth when you entered your dressing room and spotted Jake on one of the couches.

He immediately perked up, jumping out of his seat to grab you into a hug.

“Babe what are you doing here?” You squeal in surprise, grabbing the sides of his face in your palms.

“I wanted to surprise you, we’re on a break from practice right now and I knew you were here.” He smiles, placing a quick peck on your cheek so as to not break the “No gross PDA” rule your members had made especially for the two of you.

“What was that about not looking like lovesick fools for each other?” Lia giggled as the girls made their way around the room.

“Hey I said we didn’t look like lovesick puppies! Not lovesick fools. We definitely are those.” You admit, and the girls roll their eyes.

“She just spewed some garbage about how she has no romantic life and is focusing on the album. How does that make you feel Jake?” Yuna teased.

“I mean yesterday I almost kissed Sunghoon because the company said rumors about me being gay were better than rumors about me having a girlfriend.” Jake admitted sheepishly, and you couldn’t help but burst out laughing.

“Now how am I supposed to look at him at MusicBank on Friday without thinking about the fact that he almost kissed my boyfriend?”

“Sorry babe, priorities.” He shrugs.

A timer goes off on his phone, and he dejectedly pulls it out.

“I need to leave now, I’m sorry.” He apologizes.

“It’s okay, I get it. Thanks for coming, do good at practice and I’ll call you tonight okay?”

He nods his head before heading to the door, you following closely behind.

“I’m going to kiss my boyfriend now so if you guys don’t want to see, please look away.”

“Hey no pda!” Chaeryeong yells.

“I’m giving you a warning! It’s only public if you watch!” None of them turn away and you glare. “And there will be tongue just to be clear. Very affectionate display-y.”

The girls groan and look away, and Jake just shakes his head. It was truly just going to be an innocent peck, but he understood how much you hated people seeing your intimate moments. Probably another gift the idol life had given you.

Your relationship was your own, and in an industry where nothing is private, it was nice to have some solace, especially in the form of your cute Australian boyfriend and his soft lips.

“Okay, bye for realsies now, I love you.”

“Love you.”

You watch as he pulls his mask and hood on, ducking out of the room and heading towards the side door. You know all of the paparazzi are going to be at the back one waiting for you and your members.

You still find yourself letting out a relieved sigh when he texts you.

No cameras spotted. One guy saw me but he thought I was Jimin from BTS so 🤷🏻‍♀️ we’re all clear, talk to you later <3

“You’re disgusting.”

You can only laugh in response, chucking a throw pillow at Yuna and finally sitting down to get your performance gear removed.

“I hate these award shows!” Jake huffs out for the billionth time.

“Stop saying that, I know you love doing fancy new routines and putting on crazy performances.”

He sighs in defeat.

“Yeah, but I hate having to see you all pretty and impressive and pretend I’m not completely in love with you.”

His words cause heat to rush to your face, and you avoid his eyes as you look down at the tie he has crooked and sticking out weirdly.

Wordlessly, you start fixing the accessory, retying it before smoothing it out and brushing off his shoulders. Jake watches you with fond eyes, loving the domestic-ness of your actions, even if he didn’t forget your lack of response to his previous statement.

When you finish your ministrations on his tie, Jake grabs your wrists in his hands, causing you to look up at him.

“I really mean it. I’m in deep.”

You can’t help but smile, leaning in to press your lips into his, only separating to mumble “I’m head over heels,” before immediately reconnecting, savoring the sweet moment with your lovely boyfriend.

“Okay lovebirds, break it up,” It’s Jay, and you finally pull away from your boyfriend, smiling when he chases your lips. “It’s time to walk.”

Jake pouts as his friend escorts him to their van where they’ll enter the red carpet, your group following shortly after. Close enough that people would remember the rumor of you two dating, but far enough that Jake couldn’t stare at you the entire time, exposing the truth to everyone with eyes.

However, it’s not very worth it when later that night the camera man lands on Jake while you’re performing.

Head to toe dressed in full leather, you send a smirk and a wink at the camera after you perform your piece of the interlude, a fight scene with someone in a mask.

The first notes of Mafia in the Morning play, but the camera is focused on Jake, his mouth hanging open and eyes cloudy as he stares straight at you.

It takes Heeseung elbowing him rather aggressively for your boyfriend to finally close his dropped jaw, zoning back in and realizing what just happened.

“I’m sorry,” he mouths when you walk back to your seats after your performance. He follows it up with a text to your phone.

You just looked too good 🥺

You can’t be mad at the boy, especially after he sends you his big lovesick puppy eyes from his table.

You shake your head before texting back.

It’s fine.. Everyone just might know we’re dating now and surround us like vultures.

His response is almost immediate.

Good thing I know places we can hide.

Such as?

The next one has you giggling like a schoolgirl, and your members all roll their eyes, even if they do have smiles on their faces.

Stairwell, ten minutes.

Also, you’re coming home with me tonight

#enhypen scenarios #enhypen jake x reader #enhypen jake scenarios #enhypen jake fluff #enhypen jake oneshot #enhypen jake #swift.series #enhypen jake drabbles #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots

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beerecordings · 2 years

Text

Werewolf AU - Part 3

“Your AA coordinator called me. And then your therapist.”

Chase can't really make eye contact with him as he says this. Dammit, he knew they would all ring up the only local werewolf rehabilitator the second he stopped showing.

“Who even told them I got turned?” he grouches, shifting in his seat.

“Probably the courts, Chase. They're hyper-observant about new wolves. What stopped you from going, man? I thought you liked your therapist, at least.”

“I don't want anyone to see me right now,” he mutters. “Feel like they can't help me now anyway.”

“Whether or not that's true, you have to complete the programs for custody court, don't you? Isn't seeing the kids still your goal?”

Chase curls his hands around his arms, mouth drawn.

They're sitting out front of Sean's office for their one-on-one before class, watching the cars zip by. And no, he doesn't want to chase them – although, to be completely fair, he's been feeling kind of desperate to go racing after anything these last few days. He must be cooped up. Not going anywhere for five days can do that.

Or being a werewolf. It's one of those two.

“I just don't like the way everybody looks at me, now,” he confesses. “How am I supposed to get group support in AA when everybody's staring at me like a freak?”

“Some of them must be nice. Surely.”

“None that I've heard from. Everybody just ignores me. It's like I'm not even a person anymore.”

“Aw, brother.”

Sean gets up just to lean down and hug him. Chase sighs and squeezes him gently back, setting his head on his shoulder.

“You've not been drinking though,” Sean says proudly. “That's great.”

Chase's stomach turns. Yeah, he's not been drinking. Instead, he cuddles up with that stupid scrap of fabric and pretends he's a goddamn prisoner again. Leave it to him to find the one thing more pathetic than getting repeatedly blackout drunk for his new hobby.

He needs to just give that scrap to the police. He knows that. He's known that from the first time he hid it against his body in the hospital, swearing he had nothing else from the crime scene, and that he couldn't recall very well what the other wolf smelled like, except something electric. He knows the police don't always work werewolf cases very well, but he has heard of them hiring werewolf PIs just to track a scent across the city and catch a perp. Maybe that could happen if he would just hand the thing over.

But he hasn't been able to bring himself to do it yet.

“I'll tell the court about your AA, ask to have that on hold until you complete this program.”

“Oh, Sean, please, that would be awesome.”

“There are conditions! You gotta keep going to therapy. Try it with your current one a little while, and if you really feel like the relationship's broken, I'll help you find someone who works well with wolves. And if I smell a whiff of alcohol on you, I gotta tell the judge in my report. I won't like doing it, but I will, Chase, seriously.”

“I'm dead serious about staying sober, man, I swear.”

“Okay. Then don't worry about AA, but you better go see the shrink. Gotta prioritize getting better, alright, dude?”

He hears something slide above them, and the smell of lemon hits him from meters away as he looks up to see the other new wolf poking his head out of the window of Sean's living space.

“I'm making coffee. Do you both want some?”

“It's like six in the evening,” laughs Chase.

“We're pretty nocturnal around here,” Sean shrugs, at the same time as the upstairs wolf shouts, “And what's it to you?”

“Fine, then, I'd love some,” says Chase.

“Me too,” calls Sean.

Henrik grunts and pulls his head back inside, closing the window behind him.

“He looks better.”

Sean grins. “I think he's healing pretty well. The anxiety over all the wolf stuff is his biggest issue now.”

Chase gets that.

“It is like six, though.” Sean looks at the pavement and towards the other side of the house. “Let's go inside and see if Jackie and Marv are waiting.”

They head inside, but the office is quiet. Henrik's coming downstairs with three mugs delicately in hand by the time Marvin pushes in the door. He's not scowling or sulking this time, but Chase can't help but think he looks a little gaunt. Sean must think it too.

“Marv, you okay?” he asks, sitting up.

“What? Yeah.” Marvin looks around at the three of them, unsure of himself in a way he wasn't last week. “How're you?”

“Good. We were waiting for the pair of you. Where's Jackie?”

Marvin's scent poisons with alarm so fast it makes Chase nervous too, shrinking down in his chair.

“He's not here?”

“Do you see him?”

Marvin turns and looks out into the alley like he's waiting for Jackie to appear from thin air, but there's nobody there.

“Marv,” says Sean flatly.

Marvin whips back around.

“I definitely did not get in a big fight with him in the five days since our last meeting.”

Sean mutters something that's either a curse or a prayer under his breath. There's a terse pause as he gazes at the floor for a moment, teething at his bottom lip.

“It's not worth yelling about,” he growls finally. “You know you fucked up.”

“But he – ”

“Marvin, don't finish that sentence unless Jackie's actually in the wrong.”

Marvin stares at him, blinking. He doesn't finish the sentence. After a second, he seems to deflate like a bouncy house, shoulders slumping.

“I thought he would still come,” he says unhappily.

Sean beckons him inside. “He doesn't have to be here. Sit down, let's have some coffee.”

They drink coffee and Sean – after a ramble about how good the body of the coffee is, whatever that means – starts talking about the transformation from human form to wolf form, which Chase supposes they have to get ready for, since the full moon will no doubt come faster than they know.

“It's painful?” asks Henrik, hunched in on himself in the couch with his head drawn back like he could turn into a turtle more easily than a wolf.

“It's only painful when it's forced,” says Sean patiently. “If you're not ready for the full moon, it can hurt bad to shift. But when you control your transformation, it isn't painful. It's very hot, like you're suddenly molten, and I've heard turned wolves describe it as feeling really weird, but to us, it's just another way of being. And eventually, it will be for you too.”

Chase hides in his mug for a second, sipping at his drink. Right... he's not sure he's buying the idea that it can possibly not be painful. The first time, with that wolf, the one who turned him... yeah. Yeah, that hurt. But it's true that he wasn't in control. He didn't have a choice at all, didn't even know what he was doing. He thought his bones were snapping in half. The memory almost makes his eyes water.

It didn't get much better once he did turn. He was already so panicked as a human, and then as a dog – well. That's how he ended up whimpering for that other wolf to comfort him, so far out of his mind with new instincts and pain and fear that he couldn't cling to anything else. Henrik turns to look at him on the couch, blinking, and Chase realizes he must smell like nervousness again. He tries to focus back into whatever Sean's saying, savoring the grounding heat of his coffee.

“I can't explain how very well,” Sean admits. “It's instinctual. But I will help you get in the right headspace if I can. So! Let's go try it out. There's a wolf-friendly park about five minutes down the way.”

“Wait, tonight?” Chase laughs incredulously. “Um. It's barely the half-moon.”

“Don't need the moon to shift. She's just there to make sure you're doing it at least once a month.”

He thinks his jaw has actually fallen open. He feels Henrik turn to look at him and Chase looks back immediately, exchanging a startled look with him. Thank God he's not the only newbie here.

“Sean, I'm not shifting tonight,” Henrik says, voice tripping over itself. “I'm not well. My shoulder is still bad, and – ”

“You haven't shifted at all yet, huh, Schneep?”

The doctor shakes his head quickly. “No. I'm not up for it. During the full moon, we can do it then.”

“No way. My job is to get you ready for the full moon so it doesn't hurt, man. Come on, the both of you! To the park! Marv, you ready for a run?”

“Desperate for one,” Marvin admits, sitting forward in what might be the first hint of excitement Chase has ever seen from him.

“Are we actually doing this?” Chase gapes, clinging to his chair for a second. Sean growls playfully and advances on him, snapping a pretend bite at his neck before grabbing his hands and pulling him up.

“Yep! Come on, being a wolf doesn't sound cool as fuck to you two?”

“Sean,” comes the doctor's voice again, terse. “I am not doing this.”

“We're at least going to the park. Good to know your safe spaces in this town. Come on.”

Chase slinks towards the door, giving the outside world a cautious sniff before following Marvin into the fresh air. Henrik hasn't followed, though.

“What's his deal?” asks Marvin dryly.

Chase glances at him askew. “I haven't spent any more time with him than you. But can you blame him if he's nervous? Not like we asked for this.”

Marvin shrugs. “Nope. But he'll have to come to terms with it at some point.”

Sean is talking to Henrik inside, but the doctor hasn't gotten up from his chair. Finally, there's a change in Sean's voice.

“Henrik. We're going, now. Come.”

Henrik actually whimpers. Sean's there a second later, hooking his arm around his shoulders as he gets him up and out the door. The new wolf really does look like a dog with his tail between his legs in that moment, and Chase has nothing but sympathy for him.

The walk to the park is quiet, Sean keeping his arm wrapped around Henrik, who doesn't pull away. He doesn't seem less nervous by the time they make it, though.

Chase is kind of delighted by the park, despite his expectations. He's always known there were werewolf-specific parks, but he's never been to one. He's all for everybody sharing spaces, but somehow the places where the wolves run had always sounded like places that were meant to be just for them, and he didn't encroach on that. Besides, most parks just look like little sections of forest left alone wherever they've survived.

Something's different about it now that he's a wolf, though. It smells good around here, all grassy and fresh, but also somehow just open, warm, safe. There are lots of smells of other wolves, and he's gripped so ferociously by the need to go rub his back against some of the trees that he's actually moving towards them before he realizes what he's doing. It's not a completely unique instinct for him by now – embarrassingly, he's been finding himself rubbing his face into his mattress and blankets with increasing frequency. Sometimes he even just sort of shoves against his walls, spreading something intangible and purely his against his house, his space, his territory. Luckily no instincts to pee or anything weird. Oh, boy, will that happen? Probably not, right? Maybe he'll ask Sean, to be sure.

He confuses himself so much, these days.

There's also a very large NO DOGS ALLOWED sign, which is making him giggle. He points to it and looks at Marvin.

“Yeah, very funny now,” Marvin says. “Wait until somebody brings a real dog too close to you and you find yourself growling at Sparky and Clifford like they're challenging your territory.”

Chase clears his throat and stops laughing. He checks out the little area they're in while Sean continues to talk with the other new wolf, but a few minutes pass, and now Henrik's scent is so anxious it's making Chase physically sick. It makes him feel like there's something crawling up his back, and he finds himself pacing and shaking his head and shoulders like he can get the bad feeling off. He needs to run, suddenly, or to rub up against the trees like he wanted to before, or to circle around Sean and Henrik until that smell stops.

He realizes Marvin is watching him curiously, but Chase doesn't have the presence of mind to stop acting weird. When he catches Marvin's gaze, though, the wolf just gives him a smile, and a moment later, a smell like smoke and comfort drifts from his direction, soothing and sure of itself. Chase stops pacing and blinks at him. He's about to say something when he hears Sean give a low sigh.

“Okay, man, okay,” he acquiesces, clapping Henrik's shoulder. “Not today, then. We'll work on it some more in our one-on-one.”

“Or never?” offers Henrik.

Sean finally laughs again, shaking his head. “My poor guy.”

He leaves it there, stepping towards Marvin and Chase. “How about you, Chase? Ready to shift again?”

No. But if Henrik's really not up for it, he feels like he has to cover for him, somehow.

“Okay,” he says, albeit reluctantly.

“Marv,” Sean calls. “Stick with the doc, okay?”

“What? Sean, I want to run!”

“Dude, you can run anytime. I need to help Chase and I am not leaving Schneep alone in the park with a bunch of strange wolves running around.”

“Cause he'll cry?”

“Watch it, Marv.” Sean raises his eyebrows. “Dude. Make an effort with him. Go.”

“Fine,” sulks Marvin, and Chase gives him an uncertain wave goodbye as Sean takes left down the path that goes around the park, and Marvin and Henrik go right.

“Ready?” asks Sean.

“Like, now, now?” squeaks Chase.

“Take your shirt off if you don't want it to tear.”

Chase swears on repeat, pulling his shirt off, and Sean does the same. “I – like, I'm doing this, right now? You didn't tell me how!”

“You'll know! It's instinct.” Sean strips his pants off as well, and Chase looks away, embarrassed. “We're just going to start running, and it'll come to you.”

“Running in my fucking boxers through a public park?”

“Americans are so obsessed with nudity. Trust me, no one in this park gives a damn.”

“Okay, I take it back. I can't do this.”

Sean grabs his hand. “You shifted in an abandoned warehouse with nothing but your own fear to cling to, Chase. Out here, there are dozens of pleasant smells, lots of wolves, fresh air, plants everywhere, and two rounded miles of pure fucking freedom. Chase. You can do this. I know you can.”

How many times has he tried to convince himself he could do anything over the past year? Resist another drink, post a video that actually gets views, be a better dad, get Stacy back, survive the night. He's failed on repeat, failed a lot of things this past year. After a while, it started messing with his self-confidence, and that's when everything fell apart: when he had to stop posting completely and vanished from the internet, when he spiraled with the alcohol, when they went to court for the first time and he could barely keep it together.

What if he can't do this, either? What if it's all just words, and this will be the final failure: he can't control the lycanthropy, so he can't see the kids, so he can't go on.

“I'm just asking you to try,” Sean continues, and he's closer, now, holding Chase's hand. The warm smell of him is such a comfort, and Chase wonders if this is how Sean got to be doing the work he does: if he's just such a naturally reassuring person that he found himself helping everyone he could, because sometimes, it feels like he's the only one who can. “If it doesn't work out, we'll keep trying, until we get it right. I won't let you fail, Chase.”

So maybe he can't really trust himself. But Sean – this wolf he met only a month ago, this wolf who held his hand in the hospital before he even knew his name – he trusts Sean.

“Alright,” he says. “Let's do this.”

Before he can change his mind, Sean yanks him forward, and they're running into the trees. Chase lets out a breathless laugh despite himself, sprinting along after him half-naked in his stupid Nike's and boxers, branches cracking beneath their feet.

They run.

It does feel like freedom. And when Sean breaks his grip on his hand and his body changes, it's so natural for him that he doesn't even break his run before the man disappears, and a brown wolf with red hints is loping in front of Chase like nothing has changed.

Chase's heartrate is up; his eyes are torn between where he's stepping and the wolf in front of him, the closest he's ever seen a shifted werewolf other than the one who turned him. It doesn't feel scary like it did then. It feels... familiar, in a way. Like coming home to somewhere he's never been before.

He realizes he's shifting once it's already halfway done. It doesn't hurt or scare him. Even his shoes and boxers are just sort of kicked off, undramatic, and he crashes onto his side, but that doesn't hurt either.

He's different.

Sean circles back towards him, tongue lolling from his mouth. Chase sits up in the underbrush, blinking.

He knows these paws, the same ones that scrabbled at the floor of the warehouse as he whined and struggled, crying in low whimpers and howls. He knows the new feeling of his spine, the way he arches vertically instead of horizontally, because he remembers bowing to that wolf as he bit at his throat. He knows this fur, because the warmth was his comfort; his own smell was what he clung to.

Now the sun itself seems to have a warm smell, and the trees and grass seem full of good things. His hearing! He's been so focused on his sense of smell since his turn, but now, as a wolf, his rounded ears can pick up on movement for miles. He can hear his own heartbeat, and Sean's too, steady beside him.

Sean barks and nudges him with his head. Chase blinks one more time, pulling himself to his feet.

The world feels new like this.

The world feels... right. Good. Changed, but for the better. He lifts his snout, opening his mouth to let the smell of the park in all the better, and he feels his tail start to wag.

This, he thinks, for the first time since turning into a werewolf, is the coolest shit that has ever happened to me.

And then he's off like a shot, yowling with excitement, and Sean follows after him, barking cheerfully. They run. They run!

The floor of the forest is good, crackling as they move, the smell of everything is good, the sun is good! He leaps at Sean and makes him yelp as he tackles them into the earth, barking instead of laughing as they roll around together, and when Sean snaps at his tail, Chase arfs in mock fear and goes running away from him, letting him chase after, and they run, and run, and run. He hears other wolves, but they all keep their distance in this park, like a mix of instinct and the human love of music is keeping them all in some sort of rhythm with each other, smells curving in and out of each other, sounds ringing through the forest. He runs til he's heaving for air, and even then, he's still leaping and bounding in circles.

If he was a human, he thinks he might be crying with excitement. Why was he scared of this? Why did he let that other wolf make him scared of this?

Some Alpha, he thinks with a sudden ferocity. My pack shouldn't treat me that way.

The thought itself is a victory, sweet as rosemary shrub in the wintertime.

They find their way to a pool of water in the park, a little dirty and undersized for the amount of wolves that use the park, but it's still cool. Chase leaps in, splashing around and letting it soak into his fur, panting. Sean sits down on the bank of the pond and rumbles at him, and Chase knows the sweet smell coming off of him is contentment.

Chase looks at himself in the pool.

It doesn't even feel weird. It doesn't look weird. It doesn't surprise him. This wolf – this person shifted into dusty fur and brown eyes, wearing the face of an animal – this is him.

He just didn't know it until this very moment.

The sun is warm against his fur. Freedom. Not failure, but victory.

It smells like fresh air and soft earth.

He likes it.

#werewolf au #this chapter titled: you guys ready to actually see a wolf?#bee writes

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fizzingwizard · 10 months

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Things that happened this week

A pigeon sometimes hangs out at my apartment and starts making noise around 5 am. On Thursday, it not only started making noise, but it went on nonstop. Such a racket. It was raining, so it spent a longer time on my balcony. Actually, when I looked outside at 7, it was still there, taking shelter right above my washing machine. By then it was quiet, so I opened the door... nothing happened... closed the door... pigeon flew away. Idk.

Played "We're going on a lion hunt" (youtube video) for my class. Every year it's a big hit, but this year's class is the most mesmerized. It's the first time I worried they might be legitimately scared, rather than just having fun pretending. Of course, if even one kid was really scared, I wouldn't make them watch. But they were having fun, they just are more expressive than other classes. One kid had his hands covering his mouth and eventually his eyes. When I checked on him, he was laughing. Another girl started saying "Scary! no no!" so I asked if she wanted to hold my hand. Not only did she hold my hand, she came riiiight up close to see the video better hahahaha.

The understaffing has reached critical levels. I did overtime twice this week. My coworker was supposed to have a day off, had been approved and everything, but at the last minute the manager asked her to make it a half day because there was no one available to cover her. We have help from other campuses almost every day. Today, after the kids woke up from nap, I was supposed to be in a room with three other teachers... none of whom are ECE teachers or work at my school regularly. I was able to switch one of them out for a sub who used to be one of our regular classroom teachers, so I trust her. But if she'd been subbing somewhere else Idek.

Have a student who I think I've mentioned before, his parents are super overprotective. Although now it seems to be mainly the dad's issue. Dad's been keeping his kid home on days that he doesn't have to work. I don't even understand what he's upset about, although I'm told it began last year when his kid went outside, and then had a fever later in the day (???). What does he want, to keep the kid indoors his whole life? He won't meet and talk to us about his concerns. He sent a condescending letter with a list of requirements for caring for his son, all of which we were already doing. We have simply started doing them more (ie. when the kid doesn't actually need it - like changing his shirt every day even if he doesn't get sweaty). It does not impress him. This kid has seizures when he has a high fever, and when it happened last month we followed his chart meticulously. What did the parents do? Complain that their kid was "just hot," come pick him up at their usual time, and then go out to eat. When they got home, kid had a seizure. Guess who's at fault? Us, because... reasons??? Again, we did EVERYTHING we were told to do by his doctor and parents, so. I'm not sure, but I get the impression the parents think we should have given the kid his medication. But as none of us are doctors, there are only certain circumstances where we can give meds, and those are stipulated, again, on his chart. At the time, the criteria for us to give meds wasn't met - the whole reason for informing his parents so they could take him home and care for him themselves. Despite the fact that this was the approved plan by everyone concerned, parents still think we should have been able to miraculously prevent this. Another time his parents complained that we weren't wiping his nose. Yes, we are, every five seconds. It just so happens that one time out of the hundreds that they picked him up, his nose had gone two minutes without being wiped while teachers cared for you know all our other kids. We have made a very obvious point to wipe his nose in front of his parents since then. Today, I had been up and down literally nonstop wiping lots of kids noses. I'm not exaggerating at all. And this kid has the runniest nose of them all. I had literally just wiped his nose and thrown out the tissue when I turned around and saw it was running again. So I asked him to go get me another tissue. The tissue box was right there, the kids help themselves all the time, and all he had to do was grab a tissue and bring it to me bc my legs were freaking exhausted. Of course, this is when his mom decides to show up. XP She couldn't arrive during the 99 other times I'm running around after her kid with a tissue, only during the 1 time I ask him to get his own tissue. She immediately grabs the tissue from him and wipes his nose herself. Idek. I'd love to show her the video of how all I've done in in the last half hour is run around wiping noses, but I know it wouldn't make a difference even if I could. In this family's opinion, only their kid matters. Dad wants to pull the kid out of our school. I love the student, but to be rid of the parents, honestly, I'm not gonna fight it too hard...

#work

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whumpingwithclara-alt · 2 years

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Lost in a Dream?

Omg I haven't written for this in so long... I'm sorry to everyone who actually cares about my writing haha. Thank you to @whumpmasinjuly for getting me to actually write this chapter. Everything is still in chronological order. Thanks if you all read it!

No longer in captivity...

tw: Disosiciating, referenced rape but no details, starvation, sleep deprivation, body pains, hypothermia, numbness

Previous // ~ Jack Series ~

Jack was walking on cold pavement, everything around him had a slight shine from recent rain. The air was fresh and cool. The sun had set, there was still light, yet the world was quickly turning to darkness.

The air hummed a melody he used to know. The business of it. Of people going here or there.

There were adults on dates, hand-holding and giggling. Children running around, their parents trying to keep them in toe. Teenagers, older and younger than him, a group, ran by. Holding skateboards, a couple of them were further behind, on their boards to catch up. He flinched away, their laughter too loud and smiles too bright.

He kept walking on, swearing he could hear music...

In front of him was a red restaurant with white symbols. Perhaps another language, something in his mind tried to reason.

The restaurant door opened as a sweet-looking family left, and the aroma from inside filled the air. It smelled heavenly. He hadn't eaten for a couple of days and his stomach growled angrily at him.

If only he could control the food portions he was given. He'd be good! He'd be so good he wouldn't take much, just enough to keep his blood pressure ok. Just twice a day, he'd even skip Lily's cookies.

He found himself walking over before freezing mid-step. Hand resting above the door handle.

What... am I doing?

Where am I?

He looked at his half-dead reflection before the realization came to him. It was just a dream. He let out a weak laugh.

Just a dream. None of this was real.

Yet, it was a break from the pain and suffering. A time to think about a better place. Then again, he was breaking the rules.

Stop being ungrateful.

Stop trying to escape somewhere else.

Stop pretending you could be normal again. You never were and you neve-

"Excuse me." A gruff voice behind him. "Are you going inside or aren't you?"

"I-I'm sorry, S-Sir." He quickly pulled away from the door.

He rolled his eyes and grunted as he walked past him.

Jack's head raised at the smell from inside. He was so close.

Why not? Why don't you escape and give in, just this once?

The voice in his head was so small.

But it was so strong.

Too strong.

And he pushed the door open.

And he walked inside.

And for just one small, victorious moment he stood tall.

Who was he to act so confident? So proud?

He was quickly slouching again, hiding in the corner of the room where the lights were dim.

A waitress grabbed his arm and led him to a table when he failed to realize he was supposed to follow her. Her touch felt nice, like something he could trust. Someone he could lean on...

She was pushing him into a booth.

His mind went empty again, things happening around him. It was a dream he couldn't quite catch it. And when he came too, he saw a heaping bowl of ramen was placed in front of him, steaming hot.

"Enjoy! If you need me, call me over." She looked sympathetic to him. He didn't know why.

He picked up the fork and lightly tried to pick up the noodles, which slipped. Frowning down at the plate, he didn't wanna eat one or two at a time. He looked around desperately before seeing someone with chopsticks. Looking for his own but did not see any sticks on his table.

He continued to glance before seeing someone stab the noodles before swirling his fork. They collected into a bite-sized amount easy to take a full bite .

Jack smiled weakly, copying them when they did it again before tasting it, and oh-

Why didn't they allow themselves to dream more often...

The flavor was incredible. And as it's heat went down his throat he realized just how frozen he was. Bunching up into the booth and hungrily eating, no tiny bites just shoveling the food down. Holding the bowl in his hands. It burned, ha, as if he cared. He was eating a whole bowl of food, hot food. Food made for him. When he was done he slumped against the table. Humming weakly as the sweet waitress came over to get him to pay.

Pay? Pay with what...

You have to pay...?

He panicked quietly. Shaking suddenly.

To greedy. Greedy brat. You shouldn't have come you shouldn't...

Things started blurring again.

A man walked over, looking at him with disdain before hearing a sickening crack.

He was with Al, he was sure of it. Al had him in bed again and... he couldn't remember anything.

And then he woke up. The dream was over. He tried to lift his head but couldn't. He was soaked... did Veronica push him in the tub again?

It was quieter now. A faint sound of cars now and then and he couldn't move. Couldn't manage to stand.

He could lift his head, barely at that. Panting weakly, trying to fill his lungs with air.

Where- he was lost... the restaurant. The red restaurant. Maybe the back of it... it looked different but the amazingly bright red was still visible.

It wasn't a dream...

He was lost, and alone, and the rain was starting to fall again and he couldn't move.

So this is how it ends...

----

Next // ~ Jack Series ~

Taglist: @myst-in-the-mirror @thelaughingstag @nonsensicalwhump @all-whumped-out (only since you asked about if I was doing prompts I won't tag you after this since you aren't on the two-person list haha) and since it's for whumpmasinjuly- @whumpmasinjuly

#Jack series #Jack #wij #whump community #whump #Jack hates his voice #tw hypothermia #tw starvation #tw: reference to past trauma #tw: dissociating #dreaming #am i dreaming #wij22day3

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summernightslulibabee · 2 years

Text

Summer Nights - (Solangelo Fanfiction) - Chapter Two: sex and promiscuity

Will

There's really no reason to be dramatic. I mean, fainting? Come on.

So what, we hooked up? He squealed and ran out of the room before we actually fucked. I don't understand the big deal. I've slept with a few guys from school before, and none of them ran out on me right beforehand. If he wanted to stop, he could have just said that. I'm not an animal.

To be honest, I never really noticed Nico di Angelo that much. He was always just that really smart, try-hard kid. The only time he spoke was to give long-worded answers to our teacher's questions which made everyone roll their eyes. You can tell he really likes to hear, "Why can't you all be like Nico?"

I hate teacher's pets.

I never picked up on the fact that he was gay until the party. See, that's how most dudes come out to me—behind closed doors while we're both tipsy. It's a common theme, really. It's a surprise I haven't been outed yet, but I guess people are too scared to say anything. I suppose my father's status can actually count for something.

And most guys just like to forget about it, anyway. At least until I get a random text message at 3 AM asking, "U up?" Of course, I'm always happy to help a friend in need.

I truly don't believe in the ramifications of sex. It's a momentary fleeting feeling of euphoria, and that's all we really want at the end of the day. I don't catch feelings, I don't care for the monotony of relationships, and I especially don't care for other's opinions of when and who I should fuck.

In a school mostly funded by religious organizations, I've heard all the speeches about waiting until marriage, treating your body with respect, or whatever. I say those stick-up-their asses sons of bitches never fucking came in their life. Or, perhaps, they're just projecting their sexual desires onto underaged kids. In which case, Christians have a lot to explain. Again.

I shouldn't be too surprised. While my friends and I sat in the back of the auditorium making fun of the talkers, the few times I looked to the front row at Nico, only to see his eyes were glued on them, nodding intently as if he was really believing every word. No wonder he freaked himself out. Who takes notes at a "wait-till-marriage" speech? Fucking weirdo.

He basically proved to me that "wanting" to preserve the "sanctity of marriage" was just a whole load of repressed, heteronormative bologna. Most of the time it's just compensating, and the shit could burst if you even attempt to poke at it.

I made the first move, sure. But he kissed back, and then climbed onto my lap, and tore off my shirt, and moaned every time I kissed his neck, and sucked me off. Obviously, the kid's embarrassed. If he wants to pretend it never even happened, that's fine with me. I couldn't care less. But fainting? My god.

Now I'm on the ground, trying to lightly slap his face in annoyance before the boss's assistant comes down. "Wake up," I whisper. "Wake up, wake up, wake up, stupid!"

He's out cold. Ugh.

"You're going to blow this thing for the both of us," I sigh. My hand tingles. In the distance, I can hear footsteps. Well, he can't be mad at me for this.

I rear my hand back and slap him across the face. He jolts awake, sitting up and out of my hands, immediately bringing his palm to his cheeks. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. "Did...you...just hit me?"

I roll my eyes. "Get up, man," I snarl, straightening my legs. He's wearing his usual black-fitted shirt. I offer him a hand but he stares at it like it's burned and shriveled. He backs away from me quickly, almost tripping over a fake plant. Then, he seems to regain himself, pushing off the ground. He still keeps his distance, trying hard to look away from me. Dork.

The door clicks open and a man walks in. He's got short blonde hair and he's wearing a purple shirt tucked into khakis. He's not so bad looking. "My name's Octavian," he sighs. "And you two must be the Goode interns."

"Yes sir," Nico says as if he's in boot camp.

"Sir is so formal," Octavian rolls his eyes. Nico's face goes red as his lips press together in confusion. "You're both 18, right?"

We nod.

"Great," he says. "Well, you two will be working for the Orange team. They handle politics. They're stationed upstairs. You shouldn't be able to miss it. You do whatever they say."

"We'll get to write our own pieces, right?" Nico nervously asks.

Octavian smirks with a darkness. "I'm sure you can try to contribute. Just remember your place."

The boy's eyes are wide with a blush still present across his cheeks. This whole thing doesn't really bother me. My dad makes me go to fancy dinner meetings all the time with more prestigious, stuck-ups, so I guess I'm prepared.

Octavian unsheathes a camera from a bag, removing the cap from the lens. "Stand there," he directs me. I do what he says as he snaps a picture. He turns to Nico. "You. There."

I step out of the way as he takes a step into the spot I had been in. Then, he trips on the rug below and slips, and I catch him out of reflex. He's seriously clumsy.

He scrambles out of my arms and stands. Octavian seems unimpressed. "You must be a good writer, kid," he sighs, snapping a picture. He sets the camera down and pulls out his phone. "My room number's out on the bulletin board. Don't call it. Now, I'm sure you two can find your way, right?"

Nico's mouth falls open, but before he says anything stupid, I step in. "Definitely. Thanks, Octavian."

Octavian nods as I turn, leaving Nico behind me. He catches up quickly behind me.

"How. The. Hell. Are. You. Here?"

"I sucked off the boss, isn't it obvious?"

"Not funny. You cheat on every essay. There's no way you were accepted based on your originality or skill," Nico struggles to catch up as I walk up the clear stairs leading to the second floor. "Daddy's money?"

"You guessed it," I roll my eyes.

"You walk so fucking fast," Nico gasps for air. "Listen, I actually worked hard to be here. I really don't need an incompetent jock screwing up everything."

"I seem to recall you being the one who was 30 minutes late and passed out on the floor. How's that for incompetent?" My eyes trace over the second floor. There's glass offices everywhere, people throwing around ideas, chewing on the ends of their whiteboard markers, and there hardly seems to be a dress code—in fact, the edgiest clothing seemed to be more encouraged. How the hell are we supposed to know where the Orange team is located?

"That's all your fault."

I stop and turn towards him. "My fault?"

"I was drunk—"

"So was I," I narrow my eyes at him. "Is this really what this about? You're still thinking about the party?"

His back straightens and he scrunches up his nose as if he's slightly offended. "I—what? We..."

"So what?" I cross my arms and bend slightly to his height, getting in his face. "I don't care if you sucked my dick, if that's what you're talking about."

Nico plops a hand directly onto my mouth, looking around nervously. "Are you crazy? Don't say that out loud," he lets out frantically.

I roll my eyes and peel his hand away. "Can you be mature for once and just get over it? I couldn't fucking care less about what happened. So stop acting like a complete dork before you get the both of us fired. Understand?"

"Don't tell me what to do," Nico growls.

"You're pathetic," I look up when I see a girl with an orange shirt walking towards one of the rooms in the back. I back out of his face and begin my way towards her, walking pass multiple offices. Nico keeps a steady pace behind me, making sure to hang back. At this point, he feels like a chihuahua yapping at my feet.

I see her slip into a room with a few other people wearing orange, and follow in after. Nico fumbles with his fingers awkwardly. I want to reach out and slap them and tell him to stop being such a weirdo. There are 3 young adults, one sitting in an office chair, yelling at two people who stand at the whiteboard.

"The progressives were born from populism," a guy with curly black hair, sitting on one of the beam bag chairs, rubs his forehead. "But they were all wealthy, white people who suspected that the little guys would overthrow them if they didn't get in control of their movement."

"And I think that's exactly how we could tie them to modern-day liberals," responds a girl with dark eyes and pale brown hair. She puts her hands on her hips accompanied with an angry pout. "Basically rich people taking the ideas of the working class and acting like they're our friends. But they aren't! They benefit just as much from the little guy's suffering as the rich conservatives do."

"Seriously, Clarisse?" Another girl sips from her coffee cup, swinging in her office chair. "We're already a progressive magazine, we don't need to lose the liberals like we've lost conservatives. Plus, most of them are the ones funding our column."

They continue bickering back and forth, the room rising into a roar. They obviously don't notice us, or don't care to.

Well, here goes nothing.

"If you guys are going to connect modern politics to a time such as the progressive movement, perhaps you should have a base reason for doing so," I say. "And more sources."

Nico slams his hand onto his face.

They go quiet as their heads snap towards me.

"Who the hell are you two?" Asks Clarisse.

"We're the interns from Goode," I inform them. "I'm Will. This is Nico."

Clarisse raises her chin. The boy with curly black hair steps up. "And you," he looks at Nico next to me. "What do you think?"

Nico lowers his hand, his eyes wide, and his cheeks red. "H-huh? What do I think?"

"I do believe you're the one I asked," he frowns.

"W-well, uh, I—" he clears his throat. "I agree that while making a statement about how, uh, liberals can often be blind to the actual issues of working class Americans, they um...they also do a lot to help and it would be a blanket statement to say that not all of them do."

"Okay," the girl in the chair tilts her head to the side. "But what do you think?"

Nico blinks in confusion. "I just said—"

"You shouldn't make a decision yet," I sigh. "You might have made assumptions that make sense but all of your computers are shut. The whiteboard has no written notes down. I don't see any printed out sources or studies. It wouldn't be smart to write a column this empty handed. This is a test, right?"

Nico looks to me quizzically, tilting his head to the side.

Clarisse sighs and sets down her marker. "You got us."

The girl in the office chair stands up suddenly, marching over to me. She bends over and looks at my pass. "Will Solace. Of course you would know business tricks. You're Allistair's kid," she stands back up. "My name's Chris. That's Beckendorf over there."

"I'm confused," Nico says.

"It's a tactic to see if we're perceptive," I respond to him. "And if we'll be brave enough to speak our minds. My father pulls it all the time."

"So I'm guessing I failed?"

"Not entirely," shrugs Chris. "There is no failing. Besides, you tried to please all of us. But there's no need to, little guy."

Nico's lip twitches at 'little guy', but he chooses not to say anything.

"We read the both of your entries," says Clarisse. "They're not bad. You guys are good thinkers."

"I'm appreciative of the opportunity to be here," Nico speaks up, swallowing hard.

Behind them, the door peels open. In steps a girl with long black hair and an angry stare. She crosses her arms. "Are those the interns?"

Chris sighs and straightens her back. "Their names are Will and Nico. Guys, this is Drew. She's head of the team."

She turns to stare the both of us down. "Oh, good. You can go run and get coffee."

"They're here to be the teen voice of the column, Drew," Clarisse bites.

"Hm. We'll cross that bridge when we come to it," she flips her hair, "after a Grande, iced, sugar-free, Vanilla Latte with soy milk."

She digs into her purse and the card flies up. I want to say something to her rude ass, but Nico quickly grabs it. "Yes ma'am!" He says before rushing out of the door.

Was he seriously trying to turn this into a competition?

I follow out after him. He's walking with a vengeance. "Christ, will you slow down?"

"Fuck off, Will!" He pushes down the stairs. "I'm going to bring her the coffee before you can!"

"You're so immature!" I whisper-shout.

"I'll show you immature, jerkwad!"

"It's not a competition—"

"Fuck. You!"

"My God," we jog out of the front door of the building, "had I known you were going to act like a child afterwards, I would have never let you suck me off."

"Oh my God! Stop saying that!" Nico puts his hands over his ears.

"Would you prefer blowjob?"

"I'm trying to forget I ever did anything with you, okay?" Nico's face is beet red as we wait at a traffic light. "It doesn't fit into my plan."

"Holy fucking shit. You have your sex life planned out? You're such a nerd."

"I—no! It's not like that!" Nico buries his face in his hands. "I'm not the person who sleeps around, and I definitely would never sleep with you."

"You almost did."

"And I regret it!"

"You seemed pretty into it," I shrug. I can practically see smoke shooting from his ears. "I certainly remember how you told me to pull your hair, bite your neck—"

"Shut up!"

"Mmm, and how you pulled off my shirt—"

"Shut. Up!" We were starting to get weird stares. Something about seeing him mad made me want to continue.

"I also seem to remember how you wrapped your legs around my waist," I say. "And how you were begging for me to fuck—"

He turns suddenly, his hand flying up and the next thing I know, a pain explodes on my cheek. He presses his lips together, his eyes wide, staring at his hand. He looks back at me in shock.

"N-now we're even," he blinks, marching down the crosswalk. I follow behind him.

"You know, slapping's kind of a turn on for me."

"You are so perverted! I wish I never went to that party," Nico groans. He throws open the door to Starbucks and marches in angrily. He slams his hands on the counter and stares at the worker. "Grande, iced, sugar-free, Vanilla latte with soy milk," he forces a smile and a kind voice, but an eyebrow is twitching.

The worker seems slightly frightened but nods slowly. "Right. Gotcha," he throws up finger-guns.

"I thought you wanted to forget about it too," Nico mumbles.

"I would have if you were a decent person," I sigh. "But you've made it onto my bad side."

Nico pouts. "You never answered me on how you got the internship," he crosses his arms defensively. "You don't do any work in class."

I look directly at him. "Do you really equate grades to intelligence?"

"I can equate it to work ethic."

"Yeah, well, you wanna know why you didn't pick up on the trick they pulled on us?" I ask. He blinks quickly. "It's because you don't have a single original thought in your head. I'm sure you can name off every single president and their election years and their tragic backstories, but you don't have an opinion. You regurgitate what you read, but you don't know why you think that, only that you should. Maybe I'm not book smart, or care to be, but what else do you know about being a teenager when you can't even handle a couple of drinks? I have experience, Nico. I have opinions because I've been surrounded in politics since I was born and I know what it's like to be young because I don't coop myself in my room memorizing the fucking periodic table. That's what I wrote about and that's what got me picked. So, why don't you get off my back and let the adults handle all of this?"

Nico looks slightly offended, trying to hold up in his chin in defense of his own feelings. I was used to people going silent whenever I addressed this. Everybody needs a humbling sometimes. I'm always happy to give one.

Then he mumbles, "You know what? Fuck you. I'm going to have so much experience this summer you won't believe it."

"W-what?"

"You heard me," he stomps up to me. The Starbucks worker nervously sets down the coffee and creeps away. "You can't scare me away, Solace. Not like you do everybody else at school. I'm going to make your life a living Hell."

I squint my eyes at him. "Pardon?"

He pops his knuckles and keeps my gaze. It's true what they say about short people having a secret rage inside of them. "I've worked hard to be here," he sticks his finger into my chest. "So fuck you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take this latte to our team captain."

He turns on his heels and struts out of Starbucks, the coffee clenched in his hands.

Who the fuck does he think he is?

The rest of the day was Drew sending us on wild goose chases, keeping us busy running her errands for us. The entire time, Nico was trying to prove he was better than me.

I was thankful when the day finally ended. I felt drained of energy. And I'm not even getting paid for this shit.

The sun melts around the horizon, cascading a golden glow onto every person, place, and thing in the near vicinity. The trees fall dark against the sky, creating a perfect silhouette. I like this part of the drive.

The sunset is always behind me when I turn into my neighborhood, which is slightly disappointing. The gate attendant waits for me and automatically recognizes the car. He waves to me through the window before pressing a button. I wave back before driving in. The houses pass me, over and over, growing bigger in size, until I make it to the end.

My gut tightens as I pull into the driveway. Dad and mom are both home. I prefer being home alone, but it's fine. I push my car door closed and jog up the platform, pulling my key out from my pocket and twisting. Slowly I walk down the hall, all the way into my dad's office. I pop my knuckles and slide into one of the office chairs. He sits at his desk, his glasses on the tip of his nose, and his lips tightened.

"How was it?" He asks.

"It was good," I say. "They pulled the observant trick."

"And did you pass?"

I let a smirk play against my lips. "Of course."

"Good, good," he raises an eyebrow and closes his laptop, staring down at me. "Are you going to start writing soon?"

I shrug. "Hopefully," I tell him. "Today we were just running around doing errands."

"We?"

"The other student who was chosen," I slowly say. "Nico di Angelo."

"Oh. That one," his lips press together lightly. "He was oddly persistent when he heard the company was buying and rebuilding the park. He and his two friends, that is. They cried gentrification."

"So...he's also writing for the political column?"

I nod slowly.

He pulls off his glasses and tosses them across the desk, slouching and rubbing his temples. "Of course this has to happen," he groans.

"And I'm proud of you for that, son," he sighs. "I know you aren't keen on writing for the topic."

I shrug and slump in my chair.

"Still, keep a close eye on him," he folds his hands. "On Friday, I'll be announcing that I'm running. Press will be there. You'll be prepared, right?"

I gulp and nod. "Y-yes."

"Good," he takes a deep breath and runs his hand through his hair. "And don't let the news leak. I can't have any protestors."

I nod again. "Yes, dad," I say. "You can trust me."

"And...also," he narrows his eyes at me. "We're both under the same understanding about your personal actions, right?"

I swallow the bubble in my throat. "Yes. I'm over it."

"You're a good kid, Will," he clears his throat. "Now that I'm running for mayor, our looks and how people perceive us matters. I think press would like to see that I've raised you right. Maybe we could see a woman on your arm by Friday?"

My eyes flicker up to meet his. His eyes are hard and cold, his eyebrows folded in angrily.

"Dad," I whisper breathlessly, almost begging.

"You're over it, aren't you?" He asks.

He knows I'm just saying that to make him feel better. I don't know why he has to push.

"It's just..."

"Don't disappoint me, Will," he pushes out from his desk. "You're the oldest. Your siblings look up to you, and I count on you to set a good example."

"Okay," my eyes dart to the floor. "I understand."

"You make me proud," he pats my shoulder.

I force a smile and head up to my room. I love my dad, but he really knows how to piss me off. Obviously I don't expect to be pushed in the closet forever but..

I slam my door close and collapse on my bed, staring up at the ceiling. He's under a lot of stress. He's always been. Running for mayor is gonna be even worse. Then I'll really be walking on eggshells.

My phone buzzes.

I turn on my side, typing in my passcode, and opening it to my text messages app. It's a text from Travis Stoll.

wanna come over?

I could use a stress reliever. And to hell with my dad. Even if I couldn't say that to his face.

i'll be there, I press send and stand, stretching out my arms. I seriously don't know where Travis has been, but I also don't care. I slide on my jacket and dig in the pockets. Where the fuck is my condom?

And then I remember.

"I don't think about you all," Nico had said. He was wearing all black and eyeliner was running down his face. His hair was roughed and fluffy and smelled like hairspray. Something about it was actually kind of hot.

"You'd be the first," I challenged his gaze.

He seems slightly surprised, but his face lingers in curiosity. He was definitely picking up on the flirting. "You're...confusing," his eyebrows fold in.

"Not entirely," I said.

"Why are you hiding in here?" He asked, slowly approaching the bed. He sat down next to me.

It was most likely the drinks, but I felt compelled to tell him. "Sometimes it's overwhelming," I explained. "Pretending to be someone you aren't for the sake of others."

Nico twisted a piece of hair around his finger, his eyes focused in on the action. "I understand," he answers slowly. "It must be tiring. At least I don't have the city's attention on me."

I leaned back. "And Percy? You like him, or something?"

His face plastered red, and it wasn't just because he was drunk. "I-uh, yes," he drops his shoulders. "I'm in love with him."

I snickered. "Love? Do you even know him?"

His eyes widened in defense. "I-yes, I know enough."

"Ever heard of the term infatuation?"

"So what if we hardly talk? I can just feel it," he crossed his arms. "Not that you'd know anything about that."

"Not to burst your bubble, or anything, but he's straight," I sighed.

"You're a douchebag," Nico angrily grunted through his teeth. But his eyes were on mine.

"Hey, if you truly want to believe in love, go for it," I shrugged and put my hands up in surrender. "but look where it's gotten you."

"Jesus, are you always like this? I don't even know how he could stand to be friends with a person like you," he crossed his arms and looked off.

Oh, shit. Sometimes I go too far.

He turned, his eyes twinkling. "What do you do when you like someone but they don't like you back?"

"I don't have that problem," I say. He narrows his eyes at me. "Joking. Uh, I don't know. Move on?"

He rolled his eyes. "Move on," he buried his face in his palms. "I hate almost everyone, and they hate me. It's not so easy to just...move on in a place like this."

I don't know what came over me, but I could feel myself being pulled towards him. Maybe it was to get him to stop feeling bad. Maybe it was because he looked so fucking hot in this new look. Maybe it was the drinks. Maybe it was all of the above. But I placed my hand under his chin, turning his face towards mine, and leaned over, connecting our lips.

At first, he didn't know what to do.

"I'll help you move on," I slurred against his lips. "If you want."

I pulled away and met his eyes, almost immediately regretting what I just did. He stared at me with a gaping mouth and wide, expectant eyes. He didn't have to look so damn shocked.

Then, the next thing I know, he pounced, straddling my lap.

And well, things progressed.

I don't even know why I'm thinking about this. Oh, shit. Condoms.

I turned and retrieved some from my end table, heading out the door. As I head down the stairs, I turn and yell out, "Going to Piper's!"

And no protest.

—

I pull up my jeans, standing next to the messy bed. The pillows were thrown on the ground and Travis sits with a blanket covering up his lower half. He strokes the empty spot next to him. "I don't care for pillow talk," I grimace. "You called me here for sex."

He crosses his arms. "Is it bad to want to spend time with you?"

Travis rolls his eyes and stands up, pulling on a t-shirt. "I forgot," he presses his lips together. "I'm just a bag of meat to you."

"You invited me over here," I stand. "And no, you're not just a bag of meat. But you know what I want."

"I want you," Travis states with a pout.

"Too bad," I slide on my hoodie.

"So unattainable," he walks over to me and slaps my cheek. "Only makes me want you more, my dear."

I peel his hand away. "You hate relationships too, Travis."

"I do not! I'm just not good at them. But I wish you would get over that stupid belief that love means nothing to you," he walks to his dresser. "Even if it's not me, someone's eventually gonna figure out how to melt that cold heart of yours."

"Doubtful."

Travis picks up a sock. "And to think I douched for you."

I smirk. "See you later, Travis."

"I'm never texting you again!" He yells as he enters his bathroom.

"You said that last time!"

The next day, I check in at the receptionist, and head upstairs to the office. My mind wasn't really thinking much, only that I was slightly drained from the work of yesterday. Then, I walked into the office, to see the team all laughing and talking, coffees in their hands. In the middle of the room stood a skinny boy wearing all black.

He turns around when he hears me walk in. His dark hair is fluffed out and a loose MCR shirt hangs from his shoulders over black skinny-jeans and chains. There's a light layer of eyeliner smudged around his eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," I sigh.

"Hello, Will," Nico smiles devilishly. "Shall we begin?"

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