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#I finally did it y'all... I finally made the masterpost
rovermcfly · 2 years
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Media Literacy Masterpost
This post is constantly evolving. You can help by sharing resources you know, pointing out broken links or even expressing criticism of the resources provided here if you have any. Come back any time to see if there's anything new. (Google Docs version for easier sharing outside tumblr)
Updated: September 14th 2023
The Basics
Get answers to the first questions you might have: What is media literacy? Why should I care? How does it affect me and others? Is there even anything I can still learn if I feel pretty internet-savvy? And more.
Websites
Get a more in-depth look at certain aspects of media literacy and learn about and apply media literacy skills. (alphabetical order)
Casey Fiesler
Check Your Fact
The Conspiracy Chart
Harvard Misinformation Review
InVid
The Media Bias Chart
Media Literacy Now
MediaSmarts
MediaWise (by Poynter)
National Association for Media Literacy Education
News Literacy Project
Poynter
Reuters Fact Check
SourceWatch
Truth Decay Project Tools Database* (A lot of websites that are relevant are listed here. Only websites that aren't on that list will be listed in this post)
Articles
See what experts have to say.
Interactive Learning Tools
This can help you learn about media literacy in a more hands-on way. (alphabetical order)
Critical Thinking Project
Go Viral! (Covid Misinformation)
News Lit Quiz
Truth Decay Project Education/Training Tools* (A lot of interactive tools that are relevant are listed here. Only websites and tools that aren't on that list will be listed in this post)
Social Media
Following these accounts can help sharpen your media literacy skills and you don't even have to do much because it will just pop up in your feeds! Follow, like, comment, retweet, etc. to help spread the word. (alphabetical order)
Instagram
Media Literacy Now
MediaWise
PolitiFact
TikTok
Abbie Richards
Adam Conover
Aslan Pahari
Astro Alexandra
babs_zone
Hank Green
MediaWise
PolitiFact
Professor Casey
Zeke Darwin
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@is-the-post-reliable
Twitter
I have personally left twitter due to its new ownership, so it will be difficult for me to keep vetting the listed accounts the way I used to, however I will keep them listed as long as I still trust them.
Abbie Richards
AFP Fact Check
Fact-Checking Network
Media Literacy Now
MediaWise
National Association for Media Literacy Education
PolitiFact
Reuters Fact Check
YouTube
MediaSmarts
MediaWise
PolitiFact
Bonus
My media literacy tag
Remember to share these resources to help shape a world wide web that is safer and smarter and protect yourself and others from manipulation and radicalization.
* Criticism of this source has been expressed. I've provided my reasoning to still include it as well. I encourage you to make your own judgement.
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[Image ID in alt]
(I could since then not find an obvious bias in the lists that I have linked)
Information on the history of the RAND Corporation and its involvement with the US Military here.
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six-costume-refs · 2 months
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Six Makeup: Masterpost and Links
Hey y'all! Finally finished up a long promised post: all of my makeup suggestions for SIX cosplayers (and/or fans who just want to do some cool makeup looks)!!! I've been actively working on this post for about a year now and compiling makeup for even longer, so I'm happy to finally finish it. I'll get into more details in a moment, but first things first:
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I'll include all the links below, but for easy access I made a handy-dandy Pinterest board. It is sorted by costume (sections for each queen + alt costume) and you can clink on any pin to be taken directly to buy it. I would recommend that people look there for a more visual/easy look at the recommendations; I realize pure text can get a bit old!
Some notes: - All of these links are to US sites, with a variety of US and UK sources. Most of these brands ship internationally and/or are available on Amazon as well. - I tried to factor in a large variety of material colors/shades, skin tones, and financial budget. You'll find a mix of US and UK-based brands, mainstream and smaller brands, drugstore versus more upscale, and some brands owned by women of color. - There's a broad range in the companies listed in terms of their ethics, animal testing, politics, etc. I'm including as many companies as possible to give people as many options as possible, but some of these I wouldn't personally financially support. I would strongly suggest that anyone do their own research into the brands listed. - Many of these products may be harsher on skin than your typical products. I'd suggest considering any potential allergens and skin testing any product before use, and using your regular base (foundation, blush, etc) to minimize the number of new products. (If you have sensitive skin or are worried about toxicity, I'd suggest Skin Deep for toxicity information and the FDA site for information on common irritants) - The vast majority of the makeup on this list is products that I know Six actors use. However, just because someone in Six uses it does not mean it's necessary to achieve a great look - there are many great alternatives for just about any product, and what works for a specific actor may not be what works best for you. (I'd also note that the vast majority of queens use some fairly cheap makeup, so you never need to feel like you have to pay more to get "stage accuracy") - Factor in where you're intending to use your products. Six uses some extreme stage makeup and truly crazy lighting; if you use these products with the exact same intensity in just about any other context, it will be way overkill. Convention lighting tends to be harsh so you can usually go a bit heavier there, particularly if you're intending to do any on-stage performances. But for everyday use or a closet cosplay to go see Six or an outdoor meet-up with natural light you will usually want to go much softer. (Photoshoots are a whole other can of worms and really depend on specifics) - Some of this information is taken from a series of Instagram stories Erin Ramirez did. I'm still writing up a post of everything she suggested, but I'll link it here when finished. - And, finally, have fun experimenting and finding what works for you!
Links to recommendation posts: Glitters/shimmers Palettes, eyeshadows, and other accents Lipsticks (coming soon) Erin Ramirez's recommendations MAC partnership link
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blurglesmurfklaine · 1 year
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Stick Season (14/14)
Summary: After Finn dies, Kurt leaves everything he knows behind without a trace. His hometown, his family, his boyfriend. When his dad has a medical scare, he returns to Lima, one year after breaking Blaine’s heart with no explanation.
A non-chronological series of one shots and drabbles set in this universe. Based on the Stick Season album by Noah Kahan
Tropes/Genres: Angst, Reconciliation, Grief, Alcoholism, Mentions of Major Character Death, Mental Health
Track 7. Everywhere, Everything // Day 14: Time of My Life
Words: 1446
A/N: WELP HERE IT IS! The final installment of Stick Season! Honestly it made me hella emo so buckle up buttersluts
As i mentioned earlier, the majority of this series is non-chronological. This story IS complete, HOWEVER I will be creating a masterpost some time tomorrow with all the links and three different orders you can read the chapters in (Posting Order, Chronological, Author's Preference) so stay tuned for that!
Thanks to everyone who kept up with this, and encouraged me with your kind words about this story, especially @dartor-lovesreading, @rockitmans, and @calliopemelpomene <3 your support means more than you could know
ANYWHO! I'll shush now and let y'all get to reading. Bone apple teeth or whatever <3
They stay there at Finn’s grave, huddled close together and clutching on to one another as they brace against the wind, for what could be seconds or hours. Finally, Blaine prompts Kurt to get back into the heated car, where they wont risk freezing their toes off. 
They drive silently back to Blaine’s place, and Kurt doesn’t let go of Blaine’s hand the entire time.
“Do you… want to come inside?” Blaine offers carefully.
“I… Can I um, stay? For the night.”
Blaine sighs, warmth shooting up through his blood and bursting in his heart as he grasps Kurt’s hand. “You can stay forever, if you want.”
Nothing happens, that first night, aside from Kurt snuggling close behind Blaine on the bed, wrapping his arms around his torso—two puzzle pieces that have finally found each other. 
“Kurt,” he murmurs softly, his quiet voice warm around the winter covering them. 
Kurt wordlessly hooks his chin over Blaine’s shoulder in response.
“You don’t have to say anything. I just… I want you to know that I meant what I said at Sam’s party. I still love you. That’s it. I don’t want to make things weird, or whatever, but I can’t not tell you how I’m feeling and—”
“Blaine?”
“Yeah?”
Kurt’s arms squeeze tighter around him, muffling his choked sound of emotion. “I love you, too,” he finally says. “And I… I want to try again. Us. If you’ll have me.”
Blaine flips to his other side to face Kurt, features barely visible in the darkness of Blaine’s room. “God, Kurt,” he says breathlessly, putting a hand up to Kurt’s cheek. He inhales in response, breath frozen in time. “Of course,” Blaine mutters, and pulls Kurt’s face to his.
“I don’t want to screw this up,” Kurt says when they pull apart, cradling Blaine’s face. “Not again. I need you to know that I’m with you, now, forever. Everything, everywhere, I want you.”
“You have me.”
Kurt doesn’t officially move in with him, but Blaine’s mom spends less and less time at home and more time with her sister in Tennessee, so it’s not a complete surprise when she eventually announces her move from Lima to Nashville. She’s generous enough to live with her sister and leave Blaine the house.
Blaine is happy for her. She’s been wanting to start anew since the divorce and it seems she finally found the courage to. Although, he’s also secretly excited to have a space of his own—one that he can share with Kurt.
Kurt sleeps over more often than he doesn’t, and when he does, it’s typically just that—sleeping. Of course, Blaine wants Kurt. He wants to feel their bodies pressed up against one another the way they did back in high school, and wants the heat mounting between them to warm his heart that’s been lying cold for nearly a year now.
But he gets the sense that Kurt isn’t quite ready for that, yet, so Blaine never mentions it, never presses for things to go past lazy kisses pressed on necks as they straddle one another on the couch while some 80s romcom like Dirty Dancing plays in the background.
One day they’re watching an episode of Ninety-Day Fiance, critiquing the reality TV stars’ poor life decisions and even poorer wardrobe decisions.
“What could he possibly be hiding in all those pockets?” Kurt exclaims in bewilderment, pointing out a contestant’s jacket with an array of asymmetrical pockets.
“Secrets,” Blaine quips.
Kurt snorts and leans his head on Blaine’s chest and he responds by draping his arms over Kurt’s shoulders. “You’re so dumb,” Kurt mutters playfully.
“Yeah, but you love me.”
Kurt turns his chip upwards, grinning. “Yeah, I do.”
This time, when Kurt reaches up to kiss him, Blaine can tell there’s something different. The gentleness and unhurried tempo is quickly replaced by a growing sense of urgency and need until the spark of light between them ignites into a roaring fire.
Before he knows it, they’re a mess of tangled limbs on the couch, each so fully intertwined and in tune with the rhythm of the other’s body that Blaine truly doesn’t know where he ends and Kurt begins.
In the aftermath—after Blaine’s pressed gentle kisses to Kurt’s forehead, not caring that his hair is matted down with sweat despite his protest of chagrin—he lies there, Kurt’s head on his chest where he’s closest to Blaine’s heart. He strokes Kurt’s hair long after he’s fast asleep, cradled in Blaine’s arms.
It’s been a long year, one where his and Kurt’s story was dog eared, frozen in time. It’s not over yet, but Blaine has a good feeling about where it’s going.
------------------------
One Year Later
“I can’t believe this is goodbye,” Kurt says, voice shaking.
“It’s a see you later, not goodbye.”
“I’m gonna miss you so much.”
“I’ll miss you, too. You know, if you ever feel like it’s too much out there… You can always come back.”
Kurt squeezes his arms tighter around the familiar torso, drying his tears on his sleeves. There are so many reasons he can’t do that, and the biggest one is standing behind Kurt, patiently waiting as he says his farewells.
As if he can read Kurt’s mind, his dad says, “But I know you won’t. Not if it means leaving Blaine in Columbus.”
Finally, Kurt finds the strength to pull away. “If you need anything—anything at all—or have any medical updates you call me right away. None of that I can handle it myself crap.”
“Guess that runs in the family, doesn’t it?” Burt moves to ruffle his son’s hair, before seemingly remember how much it annoys Kurt. The funny thing is, though, Kurt’s certain he wouldn’t have minded it as much this time. “I’ve got Carole, cancer’s been gone for two months now. If it comes back, I’ll just kick its ass again.”
Kurt gives a wet little chuckle. Columbus is only a few hours away, so when Blaine got accepted into a prestigious Master’s program for music composition, Kurt knew he’d follow him anywhere.
Still, it’s hard to leave his dad again. At least this time he’s doing it the right way.
They’d done the planning—scoped out apartments and packed up their things into Kurt’s car. Blaine will spend his days at school, and Kurt… Well, he’s still got a lot to figure out, but at the very least he doesn’t have to do it alone.
A gentle hand on Kurt’s shoulder prompts him to turn around. 
The local eighties station plays Time of My Life as he and Blaine buckle in for their road trip, and Kurt can’t help but think how fitting it is. He’s starting anew with the love of his life in a new city, and he owes it all to Blaine.
 A  year ago, Kurt thought the guilt he felt over Finn’s death would follow him for the rest of his life, but Blaine had shown him—with his ever constant reassurance and unwillingness to let Kurt hate himself—that you can’t shame yourself into a better person. He can only spend the rest of his life trying to return the favor and making sure Blaine feels just as loved.
Kurt doesn’t believe in god, or an afterlife, but he sends up a wave of gratitude to the universe for his brother, who in his short but bright time on this earth, managed to give Kurt something worth its weight in gold.
“You ready?”
Kurt smiles and nods. As long as you’re next to me, for anything.
Healing is a lot of things.
It’s not easy, and it sure as hell isn’t linear.
It’s difficult. It’s a marathon, not a sprint. It’s a shaky leg at his dad’s doctor’s appointment, and the itch in his fingers that want to reach for a drink, even when his heart doesn’t.
 It’s seven weeks of good days followed by one argument with Blaine that sends Kurt spiraling when he can’t get a hold of his boyfriend for hours on end. It’s the gentle touch of the love of his life’s hand on his when he finally does come home to Kurt crying on the couch, sobbing, “I thought you’d left. I thought you were going to show me how it felt.” It’s the solidity and softness in Blaine’s voice when he reassures Kurt that he’s not going anywhere.
It’s a choice—one that has to be made every day. And now, one Kurt gets to make with Blaine next to him every step of the way.
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elizaviento · 1 year
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Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine (Part 7 of ?)
(Stardew Valley — Shane/Female Farmer/OC)
This chapter is rated SFW — 4298 words.
Note: Covid is kicking my ass, y'all. But these two continue to be silly idiots...
(FYI: Additional chapters of Green on the Vine — Strawberry Wine can be found in the Stardew Valley Fic Masterpost link in my blog description.  Or, you can click the #green on the vine strawberry wine tag in this post, within my blog, to access all additional chapters.)
*****
Kristen struggled with the wheelbarrow, good hand wrapped around one handle while she tried to balance the opposite side with her hip. After it toppled over for the fifth time, she kicked the rusty bucket and groaned, wondering why she'd told Shane there was nothing else to do on the farm for the remainder of the day.
You were too busy freaking him the fuck out, she thought, sinking to the ground in front of the discarded hand truck.  Did you really think his reaction would be anything other than what it was?
No. In truth, she'd expected it to go much worse. All the headway she'd made with Shane over the years was hard-won with ample amounts of patience. Approaching him with such a rash proposal out of the absolute fucking blue would never end with his immediate acquiescence. She'd been arrogant and foolish, hoping that a shift had transpired in their relationship. An inkling of such a shift had made itself known when Shane offered to be her personal farmhand without so much as batting an eye, but Kristen overstepped, misinterpreting his kindness for something else. Something more. And now, here she sat — ass in the dirt staring forlornly at a field full of overripe tomatoes, praying they wouldn't rot overnight. Praying even harder that Shane would return in the morning, all memory of her awkward proposal wiped from his brain.
"Hey! Farmer!" 
The voice was deep and not immediately familiar to Kristen as she searched for its owner. The sun was beginning to sink low, brilliant splotches of fire and gold obscuring her vision as a form bled through and drew closer.
"Alex?" she asked, finally recognizing the burly physique. He was carrying a large basket with a sack slung over one shoulder. His stereotypically handsome face greeted her with a smile, along with a six-pack carved from marble.
"Yeah." He was close enough now that he offered a hand, and she took it, soon finding herself on her feet and failing not to stare. "Sorry — was in the middle of a workout when Gran asked me to bring this stuff over," he explained with a smug expression, obviously aware that his outfit was a distraction.
"No need to apologize," Kristen said, waving him to follow her as she turned toward the farmhouse. She had the almost uncontrollable urge to compliment his routine but bit her tongue, convinced that accidentally flirting with someone like Alex would end in Haley hunting her down and scratching her eyes out like a cat in heat.
They'd made it to the front porch before Alex spoke again, slinging the bag on the rocking chair and placing the basket near the front door.
"You really are fucked up, huh?" he asked, eyeing the farmer's injured hand as she wiped sweat from her brow with her forearm.
"Oh — yeah. Guess I am."
"Need help with anything while I'm here? I'm pretty strong, you know."
Kristen suppressed a smirk as the gridball jock threaded a hand through his perfectly manicured hair, not-so-subtly flexing as he did so. Only then did she notice just how tan he was and wondered if it was from a bottle. 
"Actually," she began, allowing her eyes to rove over his form. The outfit choice made sense, given his earlier excuse, but she was certain he would have had time to change if he really wanted to. "Have you ever harvested tomatoes before?"
Kristen winced as she watched Alex rip each fruit from the stalks. She was confident half her plants wouldn't be viable to produce again, convinced she'd find them snapped in half if she went to investigate, but beggars can't be choosers. Once again, she mentally berated herself for spooking the one man she actually wanted to watch working in her fields as the last drops of golden sunlight melted below the horizon.
"Done," the jock declared, parking the full wheelbarrow at the side of the porch. Sweat glistened on his perfectly sculpted abs and bulging thighs, reminding Kristen of Teen Beat pinups her high school girlfriends would tape to the inside of their lockers.
"Thanks, Alex. I was afraid they would rot before —"
"Well, I'm not doing anything else tonight," he said, cutting her off mid-sentence. He'd obviously not been listening to a word Kristen said, instead calculating his next move. The farmer raised one brow in question, and he continued. "We should watch a movie or something. Gran packed some food, and I brought some beer."
Kristen balked, realization dawning on her like a brick to the face.
"Wha — Alex, how old are you?" she blurted, the question leaping from her throat before she could stop it. She already knew the answer but hoped that his saying it aloud would cement just how ridiculous his thinly veiled attempt actually was.
"I'm 21. Why, that too young for you?"
A barking laugh sprung from her chest, and she clapped a hand over her mouth to suppress another. No matter his intentions, she didn't want to offend someone who had just gone out of their way to help her.
"It's not about that," she clarified. Deep down, she was a bit flattered that someone his age would be interested in her. In fact, that's probably what he was banking on.
"I dunno, we're both single. You're hot. I'm hot. You gotta be bored out here, right?"
She blinked and shook her head, wondering why she wasn't outright offended. She may have been if there was any indication whatsoever that he was trying to play her for a fool. But he seemed utterly genuine.
"I —"
He cut her off again, only this time, his words were so on point that she nearly fell over while processing them.
"You got it for someone else, huh? That Shane guy? Yeah, I dunno why; he's kinda mean to everyone. That's cool, though. Wouldn't wanna step on his toes, you know." He appeared a bit dejected but quickly shook it off, giving her another show-stopping smile. "If you change your mind, lemme know. We could probably have some fun, and I wouldn't tell anyone if you don't want me to."
"Yeah, sure…" she said, still dumbstruck. Alex was known to be a flirt, and this wasn't the first time he'd done so with her, but his rock-solid confidence shook her to the core.
"And don't worry, I won't tell Shane either," he continued with a wink. "Though you should probably just make a move on him or something. He seems kinda dumb. I would've had you in bed already if you followed me around like that."
Kristen’s mouth fell agape, too flabbergasted to respond. But the voices in her head were anything but silent.
If Alex fucking Mullner can tell, everyone can. Everyone in this town knows. Everyone. EVERYONE!
"Anyway. Guess I'll take my change of clothes with me," Alex said, unphased by the farmer's lack of response. "The basket has the food and beer. Keep the beer. I think you probably need it."
Again, she slowly blinked and waved like a moron when he retrieved the sack from her rocking chair and strutted back toward town.
❦❧🍓❦❧
Kristen took her time hauling in the tomatoes from the wheelbarrow, almost one by one, washing them in her sink and placing them in cardboard boxes lined with paper towels. She'd call Pierre in the morning and ask if he'd be willing to come pick them up, knowing he would discount his travel cost from the final bill of sale, but it was better than the alternative of the entire crop going to waste. The process was slow and tedious; night had fully fallen by the time she flopped down on her living room couch to grab her phone.
9:01 PM: 1 missed call from Shane Davis
9:02 PM: 1 missed call from Shane Davis
9:03 PM: 1 missed call from Shane Davis
The farmer furrowed her brow, checking the current time. She'd missed his calls by just a few minutes but was far more concerned with the back-to-back notifications. Shane wasn't the serial calling type. 
The second he picked up the call, Kristen recognized the clamber of the Saloon, and she closed her eyes. He might have been just chatting with Emily and Gus. Maybe he'd had a beer or two. But something told her that was wishful thinking. And when he finally spoke, she was proven right.
Initially, she'd been hotly upset. Not because Shane was drunk but due to the accusations he'd so casually tossed at her, implying she'd hopped into bed with someone in the few hours since they'd last seen one another. It was absurd and equally perplexing. It never failed to amaze Kristen just how fast gossip flew through this minuscule town, and she wondered how warped the story had become when it reached Shane's intoxicated ears.
Regardless, the farmer had a game plan for these situations: Coffee, bread, and more coffee. She set a batch of the black gold to brew while pulling a fresh loaf from the basket of goodies that Evelyn had packed. It must have been divine intervention, the old woman including such an essential item for Kristen's current predicament. Then again, maybe Alex inherited his unsettling intuition from his Gran…
Kristen practically stomped her aggression out during the walk to the Saloon, the first half spent in solitude as she followed the footpath leading toward the bus stop. By the time she'd crossed the threshold into town, she'd cooled off considerably and found herself smiling and waving to those few town folks out and about. Annoyance still simmered below the surface but low enough that she could control it in the face of wandering eyes. 
"Kristen!" Emily called, frantically gesturing the farmer over as soon as she entered the Saloon. Her eyes quickly scanned the bar, shoulders sagging when she failed to locate her target.
"Hey, Em. How long ago did he leave?" the farmer asked, taking Shane's usual stool at the end of the bar next to the fireplace. An empty mug and a glass of melting ice water sat side by side in front of her.
"Not long after he hung up with you," Emily replied, whisking away Shane's leftovers. "He seemed upset. I told him to call you, hoping it would calm him down. He hasn't had a night like this in a while."
"Yeah…" Kristen confirmed, rubbing her eyes with her good hand's thumb and middle finger. Her injured hand throbbed, reminding her that she hadn't taken any painkillers since that morning. "It's probably my fault."
Emily gave the farmer a sympathetic look before fetching a fresh glass and filling it with her favorite soda.
"You can't hold yourself responsible for a grown man, Kristen. You've helped him turn things around, but it's ultimately up to him to stay on the right path," Emily said. It would have come across as a lecture from any other person, but the farmer knew that Emily held more wisdom in her pinky finger than most people did in their entire bodies. "Whatever haunts him, it's not up to you to chase it away. But —" she took Kristen's hand and held it gently, closing her eyes as if she were channeling something unseen, "— he trusts you. He obviously sees your friendship as something to be cherished. Don't take that lightly."
Kristen sighed, again taken aback by an observation so apt that a verbal response eluded her. Instead, she simply nodded and sipped her drink, gathering her thoughts.
She would have to find Shane; that much was clear, and she knew exactly where to look. What wasn't so clear was how she would address their shared bizarre behavior of the day once she sobered him up. The night was young enough that it was still possible, so she knew she had to try before Alex and Emily's revelations faded into soft obscurity in the back of her mind, tucked away and forgotten. It was easy enough to let Shane's reaction to her earlier proposal sit on her nerves and make her crazy with uncertainty, but it was another matter to honestly examine her own feelings and admit to herself why her immediate solution was to move him into her home.
Kristen attempted to pay for the soda, but Emily, of course, refused. She tucked several bills under the glass anyway and blew the blue-haired woman a playful kiss when she caught her eye exiting the Saloon. Not for the first time, the farmer counted herself lucky to have made such a friend during her time in the Valley. Someone who could speak to her plainly but still provided a perspective she wouldn't have stumbled across otherwise. It was refreshing, even among such a tight-knit community.
"Please, at least be semi-coherent by the time I find you," Kristen mumbled under her breath as she stepped out into the cobblestone walkway. She'd spent more time in the Saloon than she'd realized and groaned when she checked her phone. Shane could do a lot of damage in an hour and a half, and Kristen wagered it would be midnight by the time she found her way to the Cindersap lake dock. At this rate, she'd be lucky if he was even conscious.
He's come a lot farther than that, she chided herself. But the farmer was ultimately a realist. During their short phone call, Shane's tone didn't give her much hope that he was curbing his impulses.
Just as she'd predicted, she found him on the dock. Initially, fear gripped her heart when she saw him lying there motionless, several beer cans littered around him. How many times had she come upon a similar scene? It never got easier.
He drank the coffee and ate the bread as she presented it to him. A cup here. A hunk there. They sat in silence otherwise, the chirp of crickets and the croak of toads providing the only soundtrack. It was peaceful. Comfortable. The world shrank around them until only the pair remained, their breaths seeming to sync as Kristen sank into her thoughts and Shane slowly sobered up.
"Um —" he spoke after what felt like millennia. Kristen jumped slightly, her eyes focusing on his face in the darkness. She'd switched off her flashlight ages ago but could make out the curve of his jaw and the motion of his hand as he scrubbed it down his face. "Sorry."
She wasn't sure how to respond. Apologizing felt hollow somehow. Something massive sat between them. Dense and burdensome. And she knew they wouldn't leave this dock until they addressed it properly.
"Shane. We have to talk."
"I know," he replied with a weary sigh that exasperated her. She felt defeated before they'd even begun. Like no matter what she said, he'd simply take it and shrug it off as if it didn't phase him in the slightest, despite his earlier belligerence. 
"What exactly do you know?" she asked, challenging him. Her voice had already risen an octave, indicative of her current state of vex. She hated that her emotions had already slithered from their cage, but attempting to wrangle them back in was no use. Her injured hand throbbed as her heart rate spiked, and she suddenly found herself holding back sobs. Chest wracking, breath hitching sobs of pure frustration.
"I know I'm an asshole. I know I dragged you out here in the middle of the night — again. I know I blew everything out of proportion and then tried to drown it in beer because that's what I do. That's how I cope. I know I'll probably never change, and you're just wasting your time."
"Shut up," she said, ripping a hunk from the bread loaf and shoving it into her mouth. The act of chewing gave her precious seconds to swallow the snarky words she wanted to follow along with a heavy dose of carbs. "You actually don't  know  shit, Shane. You really, truly don't."
"What?" he asked. It seemed some of the farmer's frustration was leaking into the atmosphere of their tiny bubble, infecting the man who she was effectively holding hostage.
"I need you to sit there and just listen to me for a little bit, okay? Because what I'm about to say is something I've been shoving down and trying to ignore. I'm good at pretending things don't exist, but it always catches up to me, and then I end up here — frustrated and upset because I'm too chicken shit to admit what's really going on."
"Kriss, you don't have to do this."
His tone had shifted, and he suddenly sounded… scared? Apprehensive? She wasn't sure. And for a moment, she hesitated. Did she really want to lay all her baggage at his feet just as he crawled from the swamps of inebriation? She could very well be shoving another case of beer down his throat.
"Shane."
She reached for him in the darkness, fingers slipping through his palm before settling in the groves of his own. His wrist was limp for longer than she hoped, and she considered pulling away. But then he curled his fingers around hers, properly holding her hand for the very first time. She suddenly felt like an inexperienced teenager and was thankful for the darkness, acting as an invisible buffer between her swelling emotions and the unsuspecting man they were directed toward. After another stretch of silence, Shane shifted slightly, positioning their hands more naturally, settling them atop one of his thighs. Nothing he could have said aloud would have been a more precise indication that he was prepared to accept what was next, so Kristen sucked in a deep breath and continued.
"This thing between us… it isn't just friendship. You know that, right?"
She paused, not expecting an actual response but giving herself space to accept what she'd said alongside him. In her peripheral vision, he nodded before tilting his face toward the sky. She did the same, mapping the glittering dots above them with her eyes, connecting one by one like plot points in the story of her life. Each line had led her directly to this moment with this man. Sitting on a lake dock in the middle of the night, fingers intertwined, so many things unspoken.
"I told you about my divorce," she said, still struggling with assigning words to her feelings as they swelled and threatened to consume her.
"Yeah," Shane answered. His fingers flexed in her grip as he shifted again uncomfortably. "But you don't have to talk about that."
"No, I do," she protested, even as words caught in her throat, thick and sticky. "Because it matters. I left everything behind to escape a life I ruined. I came here thinking I could hide away on my grandpa's farm forever. I'd given up. But then I saw you and thought I could… I don't know. I thought maybe I didn't have to be alone."
Kristen paused again, a shaky exhale slipping past her lips. She'd spent far too long denying how she felt and could only imagine how blindsided Shane must have been earlier in the day and now. And how unfair it was for her to assign him to such a position in her life, despite his initial protests. It was like she'd literally forced herself upon him, pushed and pushed until she wore him down, and he had no choice but to accept the new farmer as a reluctant companion. The words 'Stockholm syndrome' floated up to the surface of her mind like a dead fish, and she almost laughed aloud. It actually resembled the pyramid inside a magic 8 ball, displaying the answer to her question of why Shane would continue to put up with her obvious emotional manipulation.
"We didn't just split up," she spoke again, her thoughts finally flowing freely. "He cheated on me. I was so consumed with my career that all I wanted was to get ahead, and I ignored him. For years. By the time I was ready to leave Joja, it was too late. He'd moved on."
Shane shifted again, only now he turned to face her. She still couldn't distinguish his features in the dark, but his aura was cautious as he untangled their fingers. For a dreadful second, she thought he was about to get up and leave, simply walk away and leave her alone with her selfish confessions. But he wrapped his free arm around her waist instead, gingerly settling his palm on her hip. She stiffened momentarily out of pure shock, recalling every instance he refused to hug her back and how he would put distance between them when she got too comfortable in his presence. Something had finally changed between them, and she felt her heart flutter as she placed her hand on his thigh and scooted closer to his side.
"Why are you blaming yourself for that?" he asked. His voice was imploring, displaying interest past the haze of alcohol, and Kristen figured he'd crested the surface of sobriety. 
"I don't know. Societal pressures? I was expected to be the perfect wife with the perfect career. When he told me he wanted kids, I kept putting it off because I was so close to clawing my way up the ladder. I told him we'd be set once I became Senior Corporate Counsel. But that all fell apart, and by the time I'd licked my wounds and crawled back to him, he'd gotten someone else pregnant and served me with divorce papers."
"Jesus, Kriss…" Shane breathed, unconsciously tightening his grip on her waist. Kristen followed his lead and scooted closer to his side, resting her head on his shoulder. Despite the balmy night air, a chill hugged her bare arms, and she suppressed a shiver. "So you came here after?"
"Yep," she replied with a bitter laugh. "Imagine going to law school only to end up a farmer."
"What happened at Joja?" he asked. Again, his tone was cautious, and she couldn't blame him. She'd dodged this question before, not ready to rehash the shame. After a while, he'd dropped the subject entirely, but it was only natural he'd still be curious.
"Can I promise to tell you about that later? For real this time."
He nodded, and she released a breath, glad she didn't have to spill the whole of her sorted history in one sitting. But, as it was, she needed to finally get to the point before she tied his brain into a pretzel.
"So, what now?" he hedged, reading her thoughts. Kristen froze, realizing it was truly now or never. What did she really have to lose? Besides her best friend…
"I still want you to move in with me, but…" She cleared her throat, stalling for time. Shane remained quiet at her side, giving her that reprieve. She buried her face in his shoulder as she flushed, apprehension manifesting as beads of cold sweat rolling down her spine.
Just do it. Say it. Tell him now.
"I'm sorry I've been so confusing and frustrating to deal with. I'm sorry if it felt like I was stringing you along. I'm sorry I sprang this on you out of the blue. For me, it's not such a rash request." 
She paused again, holding her breath to gauge the steady quality of his own, deep and even. She hadn't a clue what he must be thinking as she rambled like a lunatic, but she was beginning to lose her nerve. 
"I'm crazy about you, Shane. And I've spent the last 2 years trying to pretend I'm not because I don't want to get hurt again. I've been too scared to make a move like a normal human being because I'm fucked up. So instead, I ask you to upheave your entire life to come live on my farm like it's the logical next step in any normal friendship."
"Kristen. Wait…”
During her tirade, he'd shimmied from their awkward embrace and turned to face her fully, placing both hands on her shoulders. The utterance of her full name took her aback, and she clamped her mouth shut, terrified that this was finally it. He was going to tell her he didn't feel the same. He wanted to stay friends. Or worse — he wanted to go their separate ways.
"What?" she croaked. Tears welled in her eyes. She swiped them away quickly, cursing her urge to blink. Humiliation rolled over her like a truck, and she wanted to flip herself into the lake and sink like a stone until she settled on the bottom for eternity.
"Will you, uh — I mean, let's go to the ranch. Marnie's not coming home tonight, and Jas is at Vincent's."
"Why?" she asked, wiggling from his grasp and wrapping her arms around her shoulders. Adrenaline rushed through her veins, dulling the throbbing of her injured hand, causing her to tremble. 
He's blowing you off. He wants to distract you so you'll stop making a fool of yourself. 
"I just — please?"
He rose to his feet, snatching her backpack from the dock and retrieving the flashlight from a side pocket. The LED beam exploded from the tiny device, and Kristen squinted her eyes, shielding them with her bandaged hand while the other pushed herself up to join him.
Crickets and toads filled the silence again with their nightly crooning as the pair walked, twigs snapping under their feet. The occasional scuttle in surrounding bushes reminded them of the life that thrived in the woods, tiny creatures unconcerned with the complicated emotions of humans and the silly way they sabotaged joy for the sake of convenience.
Kristen wished to be like them someday. Happy and free. 
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Text
The Mafia Princess Part IV: The First Conversation
Y'all somehow managed to tie the vote, so I went ahead and worked both choices in there! They went hand-in-hand nicely together, so hey, maybe it was meant to be.
This one has a read more on it so you'll find the poll at the bottom of the chapter once you click it!
Mafia Princess Masterpost: https://www.tumblr.com/ibelieveinahappilyeverafter/743113275016937473/the-mafia-princess-masterpost?source=share
AO3 Full Story: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54008686?view_full_work=true
Winning Result: Tied. Act bold and say that this was her hiding spot first AND try to use any first-aid supplies she has to stop the man’s bleeding.
TW: Blood, gunshot wounds, and a character going through shock.
---
“Get your own hiding spot, I was here first!” Forget about her heart stopping, Elsa was pretty sure her brain had to have stopped working if she had gone and hissed that at someone who had obviously pissed off some type of gang that was trying to kill him. She was pretty sure she saw a gun when he had sat down, too. 
Bracing herself to get shot, Elsa instead flinched in surprise when she heard… a laugh? “You’re a bold little thing, aren’t you?” Bold little-
“Do I look like a little thing to you? I’m twelve.” Elsa refused to back down or look away because if that first thing she had blurted out hadn’t gotten her shot, then she probably wasn’t going to be shot at all. Maybe. The important part was to stand her ground!
She saw the man about to say something, probably to tell her to shut up before he put a bullet in her, but instead he just shushed her and then looked behind her. Because, of course, her luck made it to where it was her back to the alleyway entrance where the yelling and screaming was coming from. 
Freezing and falling still, Elsa closed her eyes tightly and curled in on herself to make herself as absolutely small a target as she possibly could. “Fuck how could we lose him! He had three fucking bullets in him!”
The yelling voice sounded younger than she had expected, but there was enough rage there to more than make up for it. She couldn’t tell how many were in the alleyway, but it was more than one or two. “Hey, man, don’t even worry. Fucker has that many bullets he won’t be getting far.” 
“Don’t fuck with me!” The words were almost distorted with how loud they were yelled, Elsa unable to help her flinch when the dumpster rattled harshly and moved to where it was boxing them in even closer to the wall. Whoever was shouting had probably punched it, and if they did it again it was possible they would notice that there was something between the dumpster and the wall. “We can’t afford to fuck this shit up!”
Two or three voices started yelling at each other at once, Elsa almost jumping out of her skin when she felt a hand press down on her back. When it wasn’t followed by a clenched fist pulling her out from her hiding place, she carefully opened her eyes to see the man the screaming guys were after giving her a smile of all things. 
“It’s okay,” he whispered, Elsa just barely able to hear him over all the shouting and yelling going on. “You’re doing good. Just keep your eyes closed and your head down.” Without any control of her brain, Elsa followed the instructions and ducked her head down, closing her eyes again. The hand stayed on her back and it somehow… really helped. 
Eventually, through all of the yelling, she heard some coming from further away. It sounded like it must have been some kind of lookout yelling something because suddenly they were all running and the silence left behind was a lot louder than she would have expected. 
“Okay, you can look again.” When she did so, the hand finally left her back and Elsa wasn’t a fan of the way it seemed a lot colder. 
Still. She did what she always did and tried to act like she was just fine. “You know, you may have some gray in your hair, but you still don’t look old enough to go around calling twelve-year-olds little things.” 
She couldn’t tell if he was surprised or angry, but she hadn’t been lying. He had combed back black hair that was pretty short, but there were streaks of gray where his bangs had been combed back to thread into the rest of his hair. His face still looked pretty young, though. Definitely an adult, yeah, but more like some of her teachers rather than the principal or something. 
Finally, the man’s face decided to settle on smiling, so she probably wouldn’t get shot overall. “I’ll take that as a compliment,” he chuckled. Elsa then watched as a spasm of pain tore across his face, his back hunching as he curled in on himself. “Shit.” 
“Adults shouldn’t swear in front of children.” Elsa was going to forcibly make herself mute if she survived this.
“You know, that smart mouth of yours is going to get you in trouble one of these days,” he grunted, Elsa resisting the urge to say that it already had. Instead she focused on how his voice seemed to be getting quieter. “And I thought you said you were twelve. That’s old enough to… to hear an adult swearing.” Something was wrong.
“You got shot,” Elsa said, the realization starting to sink in and leaving her wondering how it hadn’t already with how strong that metallic stench of blood was in the air. “Um- Do you have a phone? I can call 911 for you or something?” 
She waited for an answer and almost panicked when she didn’t get one, only reassured he wasn’t dead yet because his body was still moving like he was breathing. “Okay- Okay! Great. No 911. I mean, I’d call, but I don’t really have a phone or anything. Perk of being a foster kid.” 
Okay, Elsa, stop. Her rambling was not helping. She needed some- Her backpack! She had her escape backpack which meant she had a first-aid kit. It was hell to get it off and she had to shove the dumpster away to get them some room, but eventually she managed to tear her backpack open and get to the first-aid kit. She wasn’t exactly trained on what to do, so she focused on the first thing movies and shows had taught her. Stop the bleeding. 
“Sorry about this,” Elsa prefaced before getting on her knees and leaning over to tug at the man’s suit. It ripped a groan out of him, but Elsa forced herself to continue, and yeah, yep, that was a gun holstered to his side and under his jacket. Cool. She would pretend she hadn’t seen that. “Just, you know, um, keep breathing.” 
Okay. The guys had said three bullets, so she at least knew that there were three gunshot wounds on him. That was something. First she shoved the gauze against the sluggishly bleeding wound on his chest. Hard. It kind of worried her more that he didn’t start yelling and screaming and only grunted. 
“Okay. Let me just wrap this, um- Sorry. I’m twelve, not a doctor.” Still. She had a lot of gauze and a lot of bandage and tape, so she focused on keeping that wrapped up tight because she remembered someone once saying the important thing was to keep pressure on a wound. 
She couldn’t do anything about any bullets that might have still been inside, but doctors could handle that if he lived long enough to make it to the hospital. Some of the wounds looked a little weird, too. A lot more shallow. 
Getting the second wound wrapped up, this one more on his side than anything close to his stomach, she felt the suit jacket and noticed it was really, really thick. “Why is this so thick? Is it bulletproof or something? Why do you have a bulletproof suit- Well. You did just get shot a bunch. Doesn’t seem that good of a bulletproof jacket.” 
She heard what was maybe a laugh — either that or another groan of pain. It was kind of hard to tell. The last bullet wound was at least on his hip, so Elsa just packed up a bunch of gauze and shoved it between his side and his pants, not really interested in tugging them down to look too closely. Still, on the hip meant he’d probably be okay if no bones broke, and the knife wound wasn’t actually that bad and just on his arm. 
It was only after her throat started hurting that she realized she was narrating everything out loud, but, hey, that was good. You were supposed to talk to hurt people to keep them conscious and junk, right? 
“Anyways, um, I think that’s everything that’s bleeding, at least.” Elsa was now completely out of bandages and gauze, but it had at least gone to a good cause. The stench of blood was still overwhelming, though, and Elsa felt nauseous as she realized it was all over her hands. She tried to pretend it was fake blood and that she was okay. It kind of worked. “You’re still awake, right?”
A shuddering exhale of breath that kind of sounded like he was dying ended up with a weak, “Yeah. ‘M ‘wake.” 
“You sound like you’re asleep,” Elsa said, still pretending she was alright after stopping a bunch of bleeding on a man with a gun and a suit jacket that looked like it had been meant to stop or slow down bullets. “Well, um, hey. Hi. I’m, uh, Elsa.” 
“Desi.” Desi? Was that his name? He mumbled something that sounded like a nice to meet you, but it was hard to tell. He kind of had an accent now that Elsa was certain it wasn’t just her panic making it hard to hear or anything. 
“Nice to meet you, Desi. Next time find your own hiding spot, though. That was really rude using mine without even asking.” She started getting worried again when there wasn’t even one of those exhales that meant he was probably amused.
The sound of a phone ringing had her jumping and knocking her elbow into the dumpster which hurt. Trying to blink past the automatic tears that had sprung to her eyes, and seeing the guy wasn’t really moving besides breathing, she reached into his jacket pocket and took out the ringing, buzzing phone. It was a flip phone. Maybe this guy really was old? 
“Sorry about this, but I figure I should probably answer this for you and maybe get you some help. Forgot you had it. Also sorry for getting blood on it now.” She should have called 911 a lot longer ago, and she had heard him talking into a phone earlier, too- Right. Focus. 
Flipping open the phone and hopefully accepting the call, Elsa heard a calm tone that also sounded a little frantic, “Boss, we’re here. Chased off anyone lingering and some of the boys are working on chasing down what we can. Where are you?” 
Elsa really would like to exchange her conversation skills because instead of explaining the situation, she looked down to who she now knew as Desi and saw that he was probably passed out, “They want to know where you are.” 
There wasn’t an answer from the definitely passed out Desi, but there was from the phone. “Where did you find this phone.” It wasn’t really a question and the harsh tone Elsa heard finally made her scared enough to not talk back. 
“In the jacket of this guy- Uh, I was hiding. I heard a gunshot and then this guy barged into my hiding spot and he was bleeding and everything and I tried to stop some of it, but there’s a lot. He’s not responding, but he’s still breathing, but you should probably call 911, and the phone just started ringing-” 
“Where are you?” The question cut off her rapid spiral of words, Elsa a little grateful before she looked around.
“An alleyway.” Okay. She wasn’t even upset at the frustrated grunt, because, yeah. Was she in shock? She always heard shock made people act weird, so maybe that was it? “Behind a dumpster. I don’t know what street.” 
“Okay. Can you come out to the front of the alleyway and stand outside it and look around? Tell me what street you’re on?”
She kind of wanted to make a comment that she wasn’t five and he was talking like she was, but she didn’t think she’d get as fun a response as Desi had given her. Instead she pushed herself to stand up and then immediately stumbled, the wall the only thing keeping her upright. “Are you still there?”
“Yeah- Yeah. I’m here. Sorry. A little- I’m okay. Um. Yeah. Alleyway.” Edging her way along the wall, Elsa peeked out of the alleyway and looked around. She hadn’t gotten far on her way to wherever she had been going, so it was still pretty residential, but right on that border to a bunch of old, out-of-business or condemned places. 
“What street are you on? Do you see a sign? Or a black car?” Looking around, Elsa saw a black car before she saw a street sign. It looked really nice and expensive and kind of long and not something that should be around a neighborhood like this. 
“Flash your lights,” Elsa said, thinking she should probably elaborate on what she meant before she saw the black car she was watching flash their lights twice. “Okay.” 
Stepping out of the alleyway, but still clinging onto the wall in case she fell again, she raised her hand up like she was waving someone down. The car doors immediately opened and before Elsa knew it there were four guys running over to her. As soon as they were close enough, she pointed back behind her. “Behind the dumpster.” 
Three of them ran past and the fourth stood in front of her, holding out his hand. “Can you reach me that phone?” Oh. Right. She was still holding it up to her ear. The call had disconnected already, hadn’t it? She was pretty sure she heard it hang up between her flagging them down and them all running out here. 
“Yeah,” Elsa finally said, shutting the phone and then handing it over to him. He was wearing a suit, too. As were the other three. Elsa was pretty sure they weren’t just downtown businessmen who worked in a fancy office or something. “He got shot a lot. Three times, they said.” 
“And who was ‘they?’” 
Before she really knew it, Elsa was telling the man whatever she could about what happened as the other three had lifted Desi up and carried him to the car. She wasn’t sure she said everything right, but she had definitely told him about the shooting. And the stabbing. 
“Okay, thank you for telling us so much.” He was talking to her like she was little again, but she still remembered that terrifying tone from the phone, so she managed to keep her mouth shut this time. What was that? Twice in one day? Her social worker would be proud of her. “What about you? Do you need any medical attention?” 
“Oh.” That was nice of him to ask. “It’s really cold.” She thought that tied back into the whole shock thing, but she wasn’t actually sure she was in shock. She was pretty sure people who were in shock thought they weren’t in shock. 
She opened her mouth to complain about the cold again, but suddenly there was a soft blanket over her shoulders and she wasn’t really sure when it had happened or where it had come from, but the man was looking a lot less angry — or maybe he had been worried? Oh. He was asking her something. 
“Do you want to come with us? We can get you seen by some medical staff. Think of it as thanks for helping out our boss.” 
Did she… want to go with them?
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gurlwithluvx3 · 2 years
Text
never alone (1) | OT7
Pairing: friendships w/ OT7 and pregnant!reader (non-idol!AU)
Genre: angst, oc finding herself
Warnings: brief mention of sex, anxiety/depression, feeling of loneliness, talks of pregnancy, navigating an unexpected pregnancy
Word count: ~1.3K
A/N: i started this fanfic when i thought i was pregnant (very important for y'all to practice safe sex, srs) and i know that my ex would be a dead-beat, toxic man who wouldn't step up and just added the boys because i know that they would support me x3
Masterpost | (1) (2)
Masterlist
Never in a million years did you see yourself in the position you’re in today. Yet here you are at the doctor’s office, waiting for your doctor. Alone and pregnant. Five weeks pregnant to be exact.
This was definitely not what you had put on your vision board a year ago, when you were in a stable relationship with the man of your dreams, working your way up for the company you’ve worked for the past 4 years. 
It’s funny how things turn out. It’s funny how you thought that your boyfriend was going to be the love of your life for the rest of your life. But instead you find out that your dreams and aspirations didn’t align and he wanted out. He loved you, but not enough to give you what you deserved - and what you wanted was to settle down. 
It ruined you. The first few days, weeks, and months. But eventually you learned to let go. You learned to focus on yourself and heal. And it was working because you were striving. Until one night you were out with your girls at your go-to bar when he spots you.
He’s already wasted but sits nearby with his guys only to get more wasted. He provoked you to drink, triggering you to get drunk yourself. You get drunk enough to dance with him to be cordial. But one thing led to another and soon enough you’re making out in the bathroom, leading to more.
He has you wrapped around his fingers, right where he needs you to be. Vulnerable and willing, as he whispers sweet nothings into your ear causing you to give into temptation. 
You know you shouldn’t, but how can you resist your “true love”? What if this is the universe’s way of saying you’re meant to get back together. Out of all the bars downtown, you both end up here. So you cave, though it didn’t take too much to stop you. Almost a year of healing went down the drain as you’re here with your ex. 
The sex was amazing and so intense, you and your ex almost go a second round. But you don’t because he stops the both of you. He cleans up after himself, kisses you and says goodbye, and then leaves. He leaves the bathroom stall, then the bar, and eventually your life (although at this moment you didn’t know). 
You’re under his spell again and didn’t realize it until the next day when you try to reach out to him. And that leads into the following week as you sit and contemplate on the mistake you made. Which leads into the next month when you’re constantly throwing up and feeling nauseous. You’ve taken a handful of tests and finally saw your doctor who confirmed your situation and all you can think about is him. 
But you can’t get a hold of him because he ghosted you. You tried going to his apartment, but realized that he moved out. You’ve tried contacting his family and closest friends, but you always reach the same dead end. And so the best thing you can do is give up trying. 
So here you are at the doctor’s office, alone and afraid. You had a plan and this was definitely not what you envisioned for yourself. But thankfully your doctor isn’t one to judge. She’s probably seen over hundreds of girls in the same predicament.
She’s so gracious and caring that she carefully goes through your options with no hesitation. And as enticing as those options sound, you know in your heart of hearts you’re going to keep it. You know deep down you would never forgive yourself because this was your own doing. 
After crying for a couple of minutes, you and your doctor carefully talk about your plans, health, and pregnancy and every question/doubt that comes to mind. If there’s one thing to be grateful for in this lifetime, it would be your doctor. 
How did you let this happen to yourself? You thought to yourself as you made your way back to work with a million thoughts racing in your mind. 
Like how are you going to afford making a living for two when you can barely afford to make it yourself? You’re deep in thought as you step off the train that you didn’t realize you were crying in public. 
And suddenly you’re met with a man’s chest, as your vision is clouded and your mind is far from where you are. 
“I am so sorry” the man you bump into says, before looking up to him. He offers a half smile showing off his dimple until he sees your current state of mind and suddenly backs off and assesses you even further. 
“Are you okay, miss?” He asks with much concern on his face. 
You’re trying to keep yourself from crying more as you’re nodding your head silently, avoiding this man’s gaze. 
He takes a handkerchief from his pocket and passes it to you. And he does so just in the nick of time because out of nowhere you become nauseous to where you almost threw up right in front of him.
“Okay miss, let’s find you a restroom or maybe a place to sit?” He asks you as he leads you away from the crowd and tries to find a restroom. 
“I just need to sit” is all you can say before gagging into the handkerchief. He rushes you to the empty bench and sits right next to you as he pulls out a water bottle from his sling bag. 
“I haven’t opened this one yet. You definitely need this more than me” he says with a nervous chuckle. 
You take a deep breath before taking the water and basically chugging half of it down. And for the first time you look into this man’s eyes. 
“I’m Namjoon by the way, Joonie for short” he says as he catches you staring at him. “Miss, are you going to be okay?” He says as he suddenly looks at his watch.
Completely unaware of how late you’re going to work, you quickly stand up and nod. “Omg yes, thank you. I am so sorry for the inconvenience Joonie” you say trying to gather all your belongings. 
“No, it’s okay. I still have time if you need help” he offers but you kindly deny his help, with your office being only 2 blocks away from here. 
“I appreciate all the help, and I’m so sorry for taking both your water and napkin” you say with a hint of guilt and embarrassment. 
“Honestly, the train makes me nauseous too sometimes. Especially in the morning when I haven’t eaten anything” he says now rubbing his stomach. “Is that something you experience too?”
There’s no way in hell that you would tell a stranger your current situation. Not when you look and feel like a hot mess. So you just joke around about your commute for a minute. 
“Well it was nice to meet you Namjoon. And thank you again” you say with a warm smile that captures his attention. “I’m Y/N by the way”.
His face lit up and you suddenly felt warmth around your chest. Or maybe it can be heartburn, but who knows at this point?
“I hope to see you around Y/N, take care!” He yells before walking up the stairs and into the concrete jungle of San Francisco, where you quickly follow. 
And as you make your way up the stairs, you look at your surroundings and take in a deep breath. For the first time since you took your first pregnancy test, you feel that it’ll all work out for the best and that you’ll be okay. 
Feeling the cold morning air, and making your way out with the rest of the commuters, all you can think at this moment is that you’re alive and that’s enough for you.
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eleanorfenyxwrites · 2 years
Text
Soldier, Poet, King
Part 1
[AO3] [Masterpost]
Should I have started a whole-ass multichapter Pacific Rim/Iron Widow inspired 3zun fic when I have multiple writing event assignments I also need to be doing? I dunno, y'all tell me 😅
-/-
There will come a soldier who carries a mighty sword, he will tear your city down, o lei, o lai, o lord
There will come a poet whose weapon is his word, he will slay you with his tongue, o lei, o lai, o lord
There will come a ruler whose brow is laid in thorn, smeared with oil like David's boy, o lei, o lai, o lord
-/-
“Did you hear the broadcast this morning?”
“You know I can’t hear shit out on the bay floor, I’ve been working on repairs all damn day. What’s up?”
Jin Guangyao calmly eats his awful canteen food as he listens to the stream of gossip flow around him, one ear permanently listening out for anything he can use. Of course he knows what the latest gossip is bound to be about - it’s big news in the shatterdome to acquire new pilots at all at such an advanced stage in the war against the Kaiju, and this latest is no ordinary set. Naturally, Jin Guangyao had spearheaded the efforts to recruit them, though just as naturally all the credit for doing so will go to the shatterdome’s benefactor instead of him.
No matter. He has his eye on a bigger picture than simple recruitment, though he knows not to neglect this crucial first step, either.
“Oh fuck off,” the mechanic snorts in disbelief. Jin Guangyao turns his head enough to get a glimpse in time to see the man viciously stab at some indeterminate mushy vegetable on his tray. “There’s no way in hell they got the Jades to come here, you’re so full of shit!”
“They did!” the first person retorts loudly enough to be heard clearly over the clatter of cutlery and the rumbling of too many voices in the echoing space. “I swear, they announced it this morning! And not just the Jades but over half the crews from Tokyo - I’m talking pilots, researchers, ground crew, everybody. Jin Guangshan finally threw enough of his money at Wen Ruohan to get him to agree to it, I guess.”
“Hey, keep it down,” the mechanic hushes instantly. “I’d like to keep my job, if you don’t mind.” They lapse into silence and Jin Guangyao returns to eating his own meal in peace. “How in the hell did they get the Jades?!” the mechanic suddenly bursts out a scant few minutes later and Jin Guangyao sighs, resigning himself to getting involved. He stands and turns, the pair’s eyes immediately landing on him as he offers them his best, most dimpling customer service smile.
“I asked very nicely,” he tells them with a sickening honey-sweet tone, and then he turns to go without another word. The smile drops from his face the moment he’s in the hallways, relatively deserted at this hour, and he doesn’t bother worrying about word of his involvement spreading.
He spends the rest of the evening in his room preparing mentally for the plan finally stretching out ahead of him, the first move on the chessboard already made. It’s only a matter of time now until he can get what he wants, and he goes to sleep that night at lights out with satisfaction sitting comfortably heavy in his chest.
-/-
Lan Xichen has never truly been comfortable with the hero worship of Jaeger pilots. He understands it, naturally, and were he not a pilot he would likely be caught up in a little bit of it himself - he has never once claimed to be immune to dashing men who are good with their fists or their brains (fighting the Kaiju is about strategy as much as it is brute force, after all). But he is a pilot - one of the best in the world, according to numerous lists of such things - and so the glamor of it is long gone. There is nothing at all glamorous about ripping sentient beings limb from limb, or contributing to the destruction of millions of homes and jobs on the rare occasions their fights leave the safety of the ocean.
Still. He knows that the citizens protected by their newest shatterdome have their reasons for the awe they express when he and the rest arrive from the Tokyo ‘dome. They arrive in armor, as the easiest way to transport the Jaegers from one ‘dome to the next had been to pilot them, and Lan Xichen knows that he and his brother cut an intimidating figure in their snow-white Jaeger suits, hair long and unbound down their backs. It’s an unavoidable irritation for the both of them to be made a spectacle of, but Lan Xichen handles it better than Lan Wangji ever has.
He smiles, smiles, smiles into camera flashes and cheering crowds, Lan Wangji a serious, stone-faced pillar at his side, and neither of them breathe a word of Lan Wangji’s fast-approaching retirement when asked about their plans to help lift the Shanghai shatterdome out of its recent slew of lackluster battles.
Though they’re the stars of this latest news development, the attention eventually moves from them to their fellow pilots who have left Tokyo with them, and Lan Xichen can finally breathe a sigh of relief as Wei Wuxian grabs the attention with deft hands, his gregariousness and charming arrogance a finely honed tool for exactly this purpose. His siblings flank him, the three of them a novelty of their own in their matching purple and black armor, and as they stop for their own photo-ops Lan Xichen slips away with his brother in tow to get inside away from the crowds.
“Zewu-Jun, Hanguang-Jun,” a smooth voice greets as soon as they’re under the cover of the warehouse roof, and they turn in unison to find a young man standing in front of them in a pale yellow jumpsuit he somehow manages to make look as smart as a suit and tie. “My name is Jin Guangyao. Welcome to Shanghai.”
The name taps at something in the back of Lan Xichen’s mind, and after a moment of chasing the sensation he smiles more genuinely and folds into a shallow bow, Lan Wangji doing the same beside him. “Ah of course, I heard we have you to thank for our transfer orders. We appreciate your trust in our capabilities.” Jin Guangyao’s expression is openly surprised for less than the space of a heartbeat when they straighten again, but Lan Xichen has had a lifetime of reading his brother (both from outside and inside his head) - there likely aren’t many microexpressions he could miss.
“I assure you I had only a minimal hand in the effort, but your accomplishments speak for themselves, of course.” Jin Guangyao recovers smoothly. “As soon as the others join us I will show you to your new quarters and introduce you to the powers that be - Jin Guangshan’s duties would not permit him to greet you in person, he sends his apologies.”
Lan Xichen, who has heard nothing good about Jin Guangshan’s work ethic, merely smiles and nods his understanding. He’s fairly sure Jin Guangshan couldn’t give two shits about whether they were greeted or not, but he knows all about maintaining appearances. They don’t have to wait long before Wei Wuxian is ushering his siblings into the building ahead of himself, turning to say one final goodbye to the reporters before the doors shut and seal tightly - and all three Jiang siblings practically melt with relief.
“Good gods this place is insane,” Wei Wuxian laughs as he stretches his arms above his head and then behind his back, his attempt to touch his elbows together at his spine making his outdated suit creak ominously. “You’d think they’ve never seen a pilot before! Doesn’t the Peacock go swanning around town regularly enough to keep them all satisfied?”
“Fresh meat is always of interest,” Jin Guangyao reports, clipped and businesslike. Lan Xichen coughs gently to hide a chuckle that doesn’t hold much amusement anyway; ‘fresh meat’ is a very apt descriptor for how they’ve been treated in Tokyo under Wen Ruohan’s brutal hand, and he’s very much looking forward to feeling perhaps slightly less like convenient Kaiju bait. “Zi Zhizhu, Sandu Shengshou, Yiling Laozu. My name is Jin Guangyao, I will be your main point of contact while you settle in. Welcome to Shanghai.”
Lan Xichen blinks a few times as he watches Jin Guangyao turn smartly on one heel and begin marching off into the warren of dripping pipes and echoing clangs of the shatterdome, leaving them very little time to process what he’d said. He jerks into step quickly when he realizes Jin Guangyao doesn’t intend to wait for them. The others fall in behind him as they tend to do, and for the first time in his career Lan Xichen gets an inside look at the Shanghai shatterdome.
It’s obvious that it was once an ostentatious display of wealth. Were it five years ago, minimum, the tech they can see as they traipse through Jaeger bays and pass by various control rooms would be state of the art. As it is, everything is clearly in good repair and still more than usable, but it’s not at all the top of the line tech that Tokyo boasts. He says nothing, but the look he shares with Lan Wangji requires nothing to be said aloud. Lan Wangji turns his head to glance over their shoulders at Wei Wuxian walking between his siblings, and Lan Xichen can easily visualize his judgemental raised eyebrows that must accompany the low-pitched whistle their companion lets out at what they’re seeing.
If Jin Guangyao is aware of their opinions he doesn’t let on, he merely points out various items of interest as they pass through the ‘dome with (thankfully) minimal gawking from the people they pass.
“This is the main communications tower,” Jin Guangyao says when they’re all standing in an elevator that ascends in jerky jumps that would make the average stomach swoop (it’s got nothing on the sensation of their drops into the ocean, but Lan Xichen knows that’s not exactly a normal comparison to make). “You will report here for all Kaiju calls, whether you’re on deck or not. The current pilot rotation is exhausting, it is likely you will be called upon for emergency backup until the new roster is established and it’s best to receive orders and deploy from here rather than someone attempting to hunt you down wherever you might be. Questions?”
Jin Guangyao fixes them all with a piercing stare that leaves Lan Xichen a little winded, but he seems to be the only one so affected.
“Can I be candid?” Wei Wuxian asks and Lan Xichen’s entire mouth goes dry when Jin Guangyao gives the man a crooked smirk.
“I understand you typically are, don’t be modest. What’s your question, Wei-gongzi?”
“Jin Guangshan is richer than the gods - why is everything in this shatterdome fucking ancient?”
“Wei Wuxian!” Jiang Wanyin hisses in warning with a sharp clang of his elbow guard hitting Wei Wuxian, most likely somewhere around his armored ribcage.
“I invite you to attempt to negotiate a more appropriate distribution of resources with Jin Guangshan when you meet him. For now, financial concerns can be tabled in favor of dealing with the Kaiju attacks you are here to assist with. Any further questions?”
Lan Xichen finds himself fighting back a genuine smile the likes of which Lan Wangji would be all-too-easily able to interpret if he were to notice; Jin Guangyao’s tone hadn’t slipped anywhere close to rude, but his less-than-favorable opinions on that matter couldn’t have been more obvious. Lan Xichen himself has never had the ability to manage such a thing - he’s always polite to a fault, with no hints of his displeasures visible like that - and he can’t deny that he’s..intrigued.
“Will we be meeting with Jin Guangshan now?” Jiang Yanli asks with understandable trepidation (Jin Guangshan’s stomach turning reputation is infamous and Lan Xichen doesn’t blame her at all for her nerves, world respected Jaeger pilot or not).
“No,” Jin Guangyao reassures, which just serves to make Lan Xichen wonder just who the ‘powers that be’ are, then, if not Jin Guangshan. Shanghai Shatterdome is notoriously tight-lipped about their inner workings, even amongst the other ‘domes, and Lan Xichen’s curiosity just keeps rising higher and higher the more he sees of it.
Any further questions are cut off by a loud clang as the elevator comes to a stop and the gates clatter open to spit them out into the top room of the control tower, the two largest Jaeger bays spread out beneath them. Immediately visible through the windows over the bays is the famous peony-engraved golden breastplate of Sparks Amidst Snow, gleaming and spitting arcs of pure warm light as mechanics suspended in front of it work on repairing enormous gashes in the plate from her last Kaiju fight, only a week or so ago. In the other bay is the silent, hulking form of -
“Oh my god,” Wei Wuxian breathes, he and Lan Wangji stepping forward in the same instant with reverence clearly etched into every line of their faces despite how differently they wear their expressions. “Bright moon and gentle breeze.”
“Distant snow, cold frost,” Lan Wangji finishes for him, the pair of them suddenly so wistful Lan Xichen nearly can’t bear to look at them.
“She is currently without pilots,” Jin Guangyao tells them with a shrewd look in his eyes. “But Jaeger assignments will be discussed at a more appropriate time. For now, allow me to introduce the martial leader of Shanghai Shatterdome - Chifeng-zun, Nie Mingjue.”
Lan Xichen’s gaze swings sharply from the abandoned Mach 1 Jaeger in the darkened bay to their more immediate surroundings. It can’t be -
But it is. Nie Mingjue, a living legend ostensibly long-retired with the rest of the few (very few) surviving Mach 1 pilots, stands straight and proud, towering over everyone around him and exuding an air of leadership that Lan Xichen can only admire.
“This everyone?” he asks Jin Guangyao and the man nods as he strides forward only to turn and settle at Nie Mingjue’s right hand as easily as breathing.
“From Tokyo Shatterdome, Twin Jades Lan Xichen and Lan Wangji, pilots of the Mach 5 Jaeger named 'Jade Dragon'; and their peers, Yunmeng Heroes Jiang Yanli, Jiang Wanyin, and Wei Wuxian, pilots of the Mach 4 Jaeger 'Lotus Spider'.”
“Well. Welcome to Shanghai, then. Come in and pay attention, I don’t have time for pleasantries.”
Lan Xichen glances at his companions and then turns forward again resolutely to join his new commanders with a shiver of something curiously close to excitement slipping down his spine.
-/-
Nie Mingjue goes through their latest reports automatically, the information too deeply burned into his brain to require him to pay too much attention to what he’s saying. He’s much more interested in studying his new pilots - he’s seen his fair share of pilots in the years he’s been at the front of this war, and he’s pretty damn good at getting a read on them these days.
The dynamics they present are favorable enough...on the surface.
Two brothers near enough in age and looks to practically be twins, their temperaments both steady and their fighting grounded in martial arts and spiritual development they’ve clearly been practicing rigorously since they were children.
Three siblings, two blood one adopted, all of them close enough that no one would know their family situation without the different names - and the scandal Yu Ziyuan had whipped up into an international frenzy when Wei Wuxian had joined his martial siblings in a triple-pilot Jaeger he’d altered himself for purpose by using scraps of older abandoned machines dumped in the Yiling scrapyard. Their fighting is wild and unpredictable, inventive, favoring both surprise and strength over the elegance exhibited by the Jades.
But it’s clear almost immediately to Nie Mingjue that there are fault lines everywhere, in danger of very quickly becoming fractures. He doesn’t miss the way Lan Wangji looks first to Wei Wuxian for his thoughts before he looks to his own brother and copilot, or the way Jiang Wanyin glares at the pair of them whenever he catches sight of it. Jiang Yanli focuses more on her brothers' tension than the intelligence Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are presenting them with, and Lan Xichen seems determined to act as if nothing is out of the ordinary at all.
He’d known as soon as they’d made the deal with Tokyo that Wen Ruohan wasn’t doing this out of any goodness in his heart, he hadn’t been foolish enough to think he’d be getting the best Tokyo has to offer, so the high-performing pilots had been a nice surprise. He just hadn’t expected that he’d be getting not one but two world-class pilot teams on the verge of falling apart.
Well, he supposes, it’s not like everything else in this damn shatterdome isn’t falling apart as well. They might as well make the best of it until they can’t go any further.
“You have one free day to recover from your traveling,” Nie Mingjue tells them when Jin Guangyao has finished explaining the general layout of the shatterdome for their convenience. “You’ll report for combat training with the rest of the pilots the following morning immediately after breakfast - of course should a Kaiju pop its ugly head up in the meantime you’re to report here and receive assignment no matter what else you’re doing. All clear?”
Satisfied with the affirmatives he receives in response, Nie Mingjue dismisses them all with a wave and turns back to the supply reports he’d been reading when they’d come in. He finishes one and begins on the next despite the ache starting up behind his eyes, and he’s still trying to slog his way through it when Jin Guangyao returns from showing the pilots to their quarters nearby.
“You’re all dismissed, go get something to eat,” Nie Mingjue tells the few technicians still hanging around tinkering with their dying comms system, and once the room is silent save for the two of them Jin Guangyao steps forward to begin unpicking Nie Mingjue’s braids to try to help his headache.
“You should take your own advice sometime,” Jin Guangyao muses. Nie Mingjue just grunts and waves him off, still squinting down at his reports though the numbers have started to swim nauseatingly.
“What’s your take on the Tokyo group?” Nie Mingjue asks to distract himself.
“They’re awfully…shiny,” he says, and it’s not a compliment. Nie Mingjue snorts a laugh and flips to the next page of the folder, though this one’s just as badly covered in cramped handwriting making the most economical use of the limited space. “On the one hand I think they’ll all be fine piloting Jaegers other than their own if need be - they’ve all been in the field long enough to be familiar with older tech...”
“But?”
“The second we try to split them up they’ll fall apart.”
Nie Mingjue sighs and nods, unbends enough to rub at his forehead tiredly. “My thoughts exactly. Has to be done, though. I need more teams than we’ve got and we can’t be spared for anything that’s not the literal fucking end-of-the-world apocalypse. They’ll have to get flexible fast if they’re going to last here.”
“We can talk about it in the morning. You need to go lay down before this turns into a migraine.”
Nie Mingjue ignores the admonishment in favor of relaxing backwards into the chair and tipping his head forward a bit to get Jin Guangyao’s hands where he needs them more. “Any chance Jin Guangshan is planning another ‘business trip’ that’ll keep him away long enough for us to Drift again?”
“With new faces to show off in front of?” Jin Guangyao retorts with a bit of acid in his ever-pleasant voice. “He won’t leave for anyone but Wen Ruohan for the next six months at least, and Wen Ruohan won’t send for him now that he’s offloaded all his problem children on us. He’s probably going to focus on training up all the Wen reserve pilots now that they’ve got free reign of their ‘dome, we’re stuck with Jin Guangshan for a while.”
“Don’t forget that I know you,” Nie Mingjue reminds Jin Guangyao, his voice low. Jin Guangyao’s hands go still in his hair for a moment before he continues his slow untangling. “I know you’ve got something up your sleeve - I’ve been in your head, A-Yao. There’s no way in hell you’re about to let your chicken-shit father get in the way of becoming a pilot.”
Jin Guangyao stays quiet for a few long moments before he leans over the back of the chair and tips Nie Mingjue’s head back far enough to force him to look up at him.
“It’s not just my father - nothing is going to stand between me and becoming a pilot,” Jin Guangyao corrects him. “But I’m extremely good at playing the long game. Just be patient and help me babysit the new disasters, and when the timing’s right we’ll get back in a Jaeger. Alright? I miss being in your head, too.”
Nie Mingjue sighs long and slow but has to admit defeat; he concedes the point with a hand curled around the back of Jin Guangyao’s neck to pull him down into a languid kiss unfortunately cut short by a pained grimace as his headache spikes. 
“Bed. Now.”
Nie Mingjue knows better than to ignore the suggestion a second time so he lets Jin Guangyao pull him to his feet for the pair of them to leave the tower and retreat to their ‘separate’ quarters a few hallways over, on the same corridor as the pilots. Nie Mingjue dresses down for bed by taking off his boots and collapses onto his mattress just in time for Jin Guangyao to open the hidden door that connects their rooms.
“Can’t you at least strip down to your t-shirt?” he grumbles as he clambers into bed beside him but Nie Mingjue says nothing, he just makes room for the smaller man against his side under his arm, and then hits the light switch to plunge them into darkness. He lies awake for a few long minutes listening to Jin Guangyao’s breathing and the distant clanging of the shatterdome that never fully sleeps, and then he’s tugged into unconsciousness full of dreams that are their usual mix of his memories and Jin Guangyao’s.
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maissafespace · 2 years
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Fear.
Megumi Fushiguro x Fem!Reader
Synopsis: Megumi went from high school delinquent to fratboy, he was lowkey with his escapades with women making him look somewhat decent, everything turns around when he ends up sleeping with the only girl he sat next to everyday in class.
Warnings: a bit of angst, explicit nsfw, friends with benefits, drunk sex implied, both were drunk, fuckboy!megumi, commitment issues, breeding kink, oral sex male and female receiving, jealousy, self loathing, a lot of toxicity, rough sex, break up sex.
Word Count: 5.6k
A/N: Show some love to Megumi, I don't know how long it passed since I read a fic where reader doesn't cheat on him for Toji... instead of Megumi? like Megumi? The quiet ones are the freakiest, he got the body, he the pretty boy, he was the school delinquent and y'all still don't show him enough love. This story has an open ending, comment what you choose by the end ig XD. ko-fi donations :))
Masterlist - Masterpost
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You and Megumi  met in class, you sat next to each other, chatting every morning and afternoon about whatever crossed your mind, even if he didn’t look like the talkative type, he was a great listener.
When he told you he was part of the biggest fraternity on campus during a conversation about the trashy parties that take place, you couldn’t actually believe it, he did not seem like the type of guy to party every week and all the things that came with it and the reputation.
But once you saw him across campus making his way into one of the girls' dorms like it was his own house, you knew he was exactly the type, he was just reserved about it. Your image of him didn’t change, he was still a great guy, when you asked him about all the fraternity matters he also revealed to you that he was in there thanks or because of his family’s past history in this college.
His father and his uncle were apparently both presidents during their time so it was just rightful of him to at least be part of it.
You would call him your friend to be honest, after half a year it was the minimum. His daily grumpiness or just little gestures made you always laugh and put you in a good mood, while his attractiveness was just a bonus to bless your eyes everyday. He was great at all the little games you’d play to kill time, it felt like a nice fresh breath of air.
Your heart had started to fasten a little after some time each time you saw him, even though it shouldn’t.
But the little rare smiles he’d give only to you when you said or did something couldn’t make it easier.
It was curiosity that brought you into a frat party, there were rumors you couldn’t just help but to settle with your own eyes.
When you arrived, the sight of bodies crushing each other, loud music, alcohol and smoke were everywhere, pretty much solidifying your imagination. There was the ping pong table, the ones doing body shots, those in the pool, little stripes of white powder on the table glass…
You felt a little bit out of place, till your eyes caught the silhouette of the man you saw almost everyday, relief washing you as you finally saw Megumi.
He was leaning on the counter, drink at hand as he just simply watched over everyone else. That’s how he saw your figure as well, a tiny black dress tightly hugging your figure, showing every curve, making his cock twitch in his pants at the sight, how many times since the beginning of the year had he thought about bending you over in the middle of class, filling your tight innocent cunt with his cum, it should be illegal.
There was something about you, maybe it was the fact he had not met you at a party and you were a regular person in his life, the little warmth he felt every time around you, just made you even more of a desire and happiness for him.
A drop of mischief filled him.
It’s no surprise that less than an hour later, you were in between the sheets of his bed, his cock rutting inside of you, while you cried and screamed his name and he groaned, making sure to mark anywhere on your body. The couple of drinks you had earlier might have added to the oversensitivity you two had, how the slight touch of his lips on your neck and nipples were so arousing to you.
You don’t remember the exact number of rounds, enough for you to hiss when coming out of bed and sneaking out early in the morning.
The next day, he woke up in his own empty bed. Eyebrows raised in confusion, did he want a morning round? Yes, he did. But as his eyes wandered around the room, the time on the clock made his naked figure jump out of the bed. He was late.
His hood up as the hangover was taking a toll on him, the light and the noise around was too much. But he expected that it was not his first time.
What he did not expect was you being completely unfazed when he sat down and greet him as the two of you fucking each other and that being the best sex of your life didn’t happen, instead you greeted him like you always did, with a smile and a coffee already on his side.
As the lecture went by he was getting frustrated, did that mean nothing more would happen? Did he ruin your friendship? Would he never have the privilege of pounding into you again?
“Listen-” He started but you shushed him down almost immediately.
“We’ll talk about it later.” You said, your eyes never leaving your laptop and the notes you were taking, but that had at least calmed him down… or made him even more anxious.
When the lecture ended, he waited for you to collect your things and walked you back to his fraternity home. You were just as nervous as him, you honestly didn’t remember much of the trip, you two were silent and a second later from your thoughts you were already entering the house.
“You’re the one from this morning!” Your attention was caught by the pink-haired guy sitting on the couch in the living room. You waved with a smile, you had met him in the morning while sneaking out, he was attempting to cook pancakes.
“Nice to see you again too! Did you follow my advice on the dough?” You said standing behind him on the couch.
“I did, they came out a lot fluffier, oh, Fushiguro! Is she a friend of yours?” He asked, Megumi nodded once, he was a bit annoyed that you were getting along with him, not even, he should be the only contact you have in this house.
“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m sorry I didn’t introduce myself this morning, I was kind of late and I had to go home first.” He shook your hand, while you awkwardly laughed a bit, a tiny grin coming onto his face, knowing the implications of said words.
“Yuji Itadori, and don’t worry about it.” Behind you, Megumi cleared his throat.
“We need to go discuss something, see you later Itadori.” He said, taking your hand and leading you upstairs. The grip on you was tight, almost like he felt you’d escape from him, or go somewhere he wouldn’t be able to reach you.
You entered the room far at the end of the hallway, by the measurements now that you were sober and actually taking your time to look around, it seemed like the master bedroom with catalog like furniture, minimalistic of black, white and gray. You entered before him, he locked the door behind you, sitting at the edge of his bed while he leaned on the door, silence overtook the room till he spoke up.
“So, are we going to act like we never had sex or what?” By the tone he seemed annoyed or tired, or both. Has this been eating him up so much?
You cleared your throat, the crudeness of his words taking you aback a bit. “Well, we could if you want or… I don’t know, this is not exactly my field.” You said scratching the back of your head, how will you tell him this?
He narrowed his eyes at you, not really getting it. “What do you mean?”
“That… like last night.. It was actually- my first time.” Your lips bit into a thin line as soon as those words came out, avoiding his eyes like the plague or whatever answer he may give you. You rested on your hands, your body leaning back a bit, fists trembling in nervousness.
“You said what?” Megumi was stunned, you? who moved naturally all night on him, you were a virgin? And he was the one who took it? So sloppily, roughly? With both of you with alcohol in your systems? It wasn’t a big deal for him but it must have felt shitty to have it like this or-
“Don’t mind it, I don’t. We can still be friends if that’s what you want.” Your words dying at the end. You were caught off guard, you didn’t hear him take a single step, but here he was tilting your chin up, inches only separating your lips, he’s blue eyes looking directly into yours.
You felt the pressing of his lips on yours, eyes closing to feel more of him, your hands going to his perfect jaw, while his body pushed yours to lie on his bed, your back touching the soft black sheets, pressing his chest onto yours and crotch to yours making you feel everything superficial of him.
“You want this to stop?” The shivers, the light moan that escaped your mouth, the lust in your eyes, he was intoxicating you more than anything, you’d never want this to stop.
With no answer other than your body reacting to his proximity, his fingers worked on your pants, taking them off along your panties, stumbling into your shoes, till your lower half was completely exposed to him. Tugging on the hem of his t.shirt he took it off, putting the situation even between you two.
Megumi’s knees hit the ground, kneeling in front of your pretty cunt, his arms wrapping around your thighs to keep you steady, his lean figure was not so lean anymore, feeling the strength behind him, your back could only arch, when his tongue touched you, started to savor you, his saliva mixing with your wetness, making his tongue movements echo in the room.
Your hand grabbed his hair, tugging on it making him hiss at the harsh pulls, his tongue pushing into your little tight hole. He was eating you out desperately, your other free hand gripped tight on the sheets till the knuckles became white, your mouth shut tight as you remembered you were not alone in this house and came on his tongue.
Your legs spasmed around him, while he kept swallowing and licking you clean of the juices you produced, he loved the way you tasted, he loved the way you were reacting to him, he loved the way you were melting into him. His cock was hurting at being tied back into his pants, wanting to feel you around him once again, not having had enough of you.
He put your legs down gently, going up to your face, kissing you deeply, making sure you were tasting yourself in him, the action was arousing, your hips grinding on each other to find more relief at the sensation building again in your lower stomachs.
Your hands trembled, shook uncontrollably, while untying the belt around his pants, he kicked his shoes off, lowering his pants and boxers. Now you could finally remember his length clearly, your breath hitching when he patted the pink tip of his cock on your sensitive clit, wetness loud and clear mixing with the precum, going up and down your folds, with his own heavy breath he watched you whining and moaning every time he was near your hole clenching around nothing, waiting for him to fill you.
He pushed the tip in, your pussy making it hard for him to go through, slipping in only thanks to the cum that it was being produced, pushing in till none of his cock was out, the tip kissing your cervix. You both breathed hard, he groaned feeling your walls squeezing around him, the warmth, all the heavenly sensations.
He took the moment for you to relax to take off the shirt blocking him from seeing the rest of you, only then when he could see your tits bounce with every thrust did he start to fuck you just like he did last night.
You kept your voice low, his fingers digging into your waist, the slapping of his balls on your ass, of your skin clapping, echoed in the room with his low grunts of satisfaction.
The feeling in your lower stomach coming up again, his hips moving sloppily, his teeth greeting as he spasmed through till your back arched impossibly more, eyes rolling back, with that feeling in your lower stomach unleashed while clamping down on him, milking him off his semen into you. Filling you completely.
There was a break and then you picked back up where you left… you don’t know how many times this was repeated, enough for your legs to ache and feel sore, your cum mixed together oozing out of you while he was spooning you under the sheets.
It felt like a dream, but like all dreams, there’s a moment they come to an end.
“I don’t do relationships.” Megumi’s tone was warm, but your body stiffened a bit. This was your call to reality, for your mind to remember that he was the friend you made through class, that you appreciate the company, the little games, the laughs and the same one who had probably half the campus’ girls at his feet.
You purposely replayed in your head the way he entered your own dorm building, knowing exactly where and who to go to, multiple times.
Your heart was breaking, there was a conflict going on, you liked him, you had fallen for him, but to which length?
“It’s fine.”
No, it wasn’t. But you forced yourself to say those words. Regardless of how it was going to be, you still wanted to have him smile and laugh, breaking that stoic facade only to you every day. You didn’t want to lose that friendship and contact and if it was to be occasional sex then so be it.
“Would you be into having this keep going and still be friends, no exclusivity?” His words hurt too damn much. Your eyes were shut making it look like you were going to sleep.
No exclusivity. What a great joke you put yourself through just for him, thinking that it will be worth getting your heart trampled over and over again. For him… while he probably felt nothing more than great pleasure at having one more toy to play with.
“Okay… I’m tired though, whatever it is, it’s okay.” He hummed and you could feel the light smile on his lips through his tone, he hugged you tighter and you wanted to damn him so much, to curse him out, scream, cry and get out of his arms; he did this so easily, holding you like it actually meant something, while not having had sex before, you knew how simple holding were different-
But you couldn’t do more than to melt in his arms with a single tear coming out of your eye.
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It was the beginning of a spiral towards the low of lowest.
Your routine didn’t change other than the sex, he was in class, sat next to you, only little gestures changed, he looked at you in a softer way, light smiles, he played with your fingers and strands of hair.
Meaningless little gestures. You had to remind yourself.
This was a month or two into this friends with benefits thing,  you don’t exactly know if he did use the no exclusivity clause or not, meaning, if he slept with other people, but you tried not to think about it too much. You tried not to make it hurt too much.
You tried to think of the conversations late at night, between you two only, of all the times you passed time together, acting like lovers, giggling and laughing in your sheets, talking with his friends too, passing movie nights there with all of them, eating together as he held you every time with an arm around, like you had filled the role of his girlfriend.
This had made you happy enough to not doubt him as much, after all even in the eyes of his friends it seemed like you were the only one for him.
Making you fall in love with him more and more.  But-
“So, are you two dating now?” Yuuji was the one that put in question everything, how you wanted to smile and nod, and how much of a fool you would’ve looked while Megumi was already giving his answer.
“No, we are just friends. Stop saying nonsense.” While you tried to cover the sadness in the best way, with a normal goofy smile, lips bitten and fingers almost peeling each other off under the table, Yuuji looked at you skeptically.
Noticing the ways Megumi felt more anxious with his answer, caught off guard or mad. Even disgusted could fit, but a lot seemed to go through his mind at the exact moment the words spilled out, confusion, fear…
You cleared your throat, trying to keep the conversation with Yuuji going for lunch, talking about the professors, talking about anything that would not remotely touch this argument again.
Megumi left before you two, after Yuuji actually confronted you alone and said some words to help you, you left going to the library to pick up the few books you needed for your assignment and headed back to your own dorm.
You were surprised when you saw him entering, in all this time not once was spent in your dorm, it was always his, and not once you mentioned where or which was your room. With a heart pounding into your chest, you entered shortly after him, following him, till you saw him again, two floors below yours, knocking into a room, and the instant it opened he was hungrily kissing a blond girl, not straining himself to grab her ass and neck, walking them inside and kicking the door closed.
You didn’t realize how you were crying, till the tears spilling were soaking your shirt, a soft sigh escaping you with a chuckle and a broken smile. I’m a fool for even…
You walked back into your room, letting all your things fall on the desk, getting in your bed with your clothes still on, there was no room for anything more than self loathing.
I got myself into this… I accepted it, I said yes to no exclusivity, I said yes to just casual fucking and I’m here crying like I knew nothing and got cheated on.
The fact that you were laughing at your own stupidity was breaking you more, you dug your own grave, and now you were crying about it.
I’m so fucking dumb, I knew it already why am I crying?... I thought I could handle it… Can I go back before I met him, change seats last minute to never see his goddamn smile, for him to not make me fall in love with him…
Please… let me go back.
When you woke up, your eyes felt sore, red and puffy from your crying, you had completely missed your lesson and you were not planning on going out of this room any time soon. What you didn’t expect was the reason for your heartache to have filled your phone with texts and calls… all starting from yesterday night.
You wanted to throw your phone so badly after looking at the hour on each message… Did he do this before? Did he called you in to sleep at his after fucking someone else?
You breathed deeply. I have no right to be mad. Was the only thing you could repeat to feel some part of the pain alleviate, you don’t know which but you just hoped it worked.
You: Sorry, I’m going to be at my parents’ for the week.
You: Family issues XD
Gumi: Oh, all right. Take care, text me whenever, hope everything works well.
You: Have fun.
What kind of text was that? You were acting like a bitter girlfriend… and you were not. You barricaded yourself in your room for the week, from Monday to Friday night, trying to put yourself together, mourn your heart and come up with something to do.
By Friday evening you were slipping back into the tight black mini dress you had on that night, heels on and purse with only essentials and you were out of the dorm, going to the party Nobara texted you about. You’d use the condition too. If he could…
And he really could, when you entered the house the party was held in, your eyes almost automatically found him sitting at the kitchen counter, just like then, with a girl kissing him. You rolled your eyes, after the countless times you passed self loathing just the last week, nothing could actually offend or break you even more.
You ended up talking and passing your time with Yuta Okkotsu, chatting and laughing, he was a nice guy, there was a mysterious aura around him but he did nothing that didn’t feel genuine. The conversation was briefly interrupted by an arm around your shoulder. “And here I thought you were Pres’ girlfriend but you were just a new toy?”
“Ryomen… whose toy?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.
“Pres? President of the frat, pretty… Fushiguro.”
“Oh… well no…” Your fingers grabbed his jaw, guiding him till he was facing another direction. “See… there’s your president and that’s his new toy. I’m not. Have fun.” You said taking Yuta’s hand, he was keeping in the laugh at seeing the unmoving Sukuna, he took the lead and after you downed your drink, the two of you started to walk upstairs, in the corner of your eyes you met his eyes, looking at you with something you’ve never seen in him.
You didn’t want to care about it now.
You wanted to care and feel drowned by the ecstasy Yuta was giving you, while kissing you, holding you, fucking into you, but  you didn’t know how to turn emotions completely off, because how could Megumi do this and not feel any shame or guilt?
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When you woke up, Yuta made sure to accompany you home after breakfast and a well deserved shower from last night and maybe morning activities. There was an exchange of numbers thanks to you but he left with some words to you. “Heal first, don’t avoid the way it hurts, if you want to get closure from him and yourself and then call me, I’ll be happy to hold you a bit more while drinking vodka or something. All right?”
It felt stupid for you the way tears pooled in your eyes, lips trembling as much as he had to hug you and help you calm down, saying sweet things to you.
He kissed your forehead and let go of you as you walked up to your room.
Never thinking that you’d find Megumi there sat on your bed, your feet killing you had you taken them off in an instant, your purse somewhere thrown on the bed along with your phone and keys, your dress slipping off, substituted with a t-shirt. You sat crossed legs on the desk, in front of him.
“Who did you ask where I live?”
“Yuuji.”
You hummed, looking out the window… the  day was just starting and this was how, what a joke. “Building looks familiar to you, doesn’t it?”
His head snapped up to look at you, while you slowly turned to face him with a bored look. “So, what’s wrong? You look like a corpse.”
“I’ve been calling you all night, why didn’t you reply?” It seemed like he was trying to come up with questions right then and there.
“My phone died and I didn’t check it, my bad. Is that it? I have a shower to do and lectures to-”
“Did you sleep with him?” It was direct, his eyes were narrowed at you, shutting you up with your mouth parted, a chuckle of disbelief.
“That��s funny… yeah, I did, does it matter?” He had annoyance slapped over his face, as if he was actually talking to you or not, why were you behaving this way with him. “What do you mean if it matters? Don’t we have sex exactly for this?” He spat out.
“We do, that didn’t stop you from sleeping around too. Why is it different? You know Pres, Yuuji was right, you’re one selfish bastard.” Megumi stood up in a second, nearing the desk while you gulped down the knot of cries and sobs that were forming in your throat internally.
“It’s not different, I just… you don’t need anyone else to sleep with if-”
“If I have you…? but I don’t, that’s where you’re wrong. You made it clear the first time with the no “exclusivity” and a week ago with the “ew, you dating me it’s nonsense, we’re just friends”” Only now he could recognize the look in your eyes, a broken one, filled of hurt. “Gumi, what happened? Do you feel something for me? Or are you just a jealous possessive bastard?”
His jaw was clenching hardly. “I care about you.”
“No, you don’t. You don’t care about anybody but you.” Now the glassy look of your eyes was evident, him saying that he cared was honestly more hurtful than probably hearing him say that he didn’t give two shits about you. “I love you.”
His eyes widened, he felt a weight drop in his own stomach, seeing the pain, the way you were about to break, but your face held a smile, a weak one, trying to keep yourself together. “So I think this thing can’t keep going, you can go out and find all the no strings attached girls you want but I’m done having you treat me like I’m the one you love and three seconds later treat another girl the same way. It fucking hurts.”
Your head was throbbing in pain, you couldn’t bear to look at him anymore, having that distraught look on his face you couldn’t comprehend. You were rubbing your eyes, you had cried enough and you had promised not to do it again. You got off the desk, walking around him till opening the door of your dorm.
“Please, just leave.” You asked, but he refused to move. You shut the door back aggressively. Your patience was wearing thin.
“If you really care about me like you just said, then leave!” You screamed at him. Going right in front of him, your hands on his chest but with no strength to push him.
“Do you want to know how it hurts? Tell me how you do it. Please. I don’t want to feel anything anymore.” You cried, there was no way you could do it. While being so close you just wanted to feel his arms around you and like he read your mind when he pulled you in a tight hug, his head on yours.
Holding you the closest ever, in intimacy, in feelings.
Could he make a sacrifice for the only girl he ever felt something for? Something so unnatural and foreign to him to act irrational? Could he commit to you when he now knew your feelings corresponded to what may be his? Could he surpass his own commitment issues?
There wasn’t a clear answer to his questions but the kiss on your lips, the fluttering in his body he didn’t know how to identify going all throughout his body, feeling him of excitement but unlike other times of a drop of guilt and weight that pulled him down.
Your hands were clenched in tight fists on the front of his chest. You were cursing at yourself for being so weak, but you couldn’t help but to excuse yourself for it being the last time.
His hand cupped your lower back under the t-shirt perfectly, the coldness of it making shivers fill your body, making the arch of your body go till your bodies were pressed hard against one another. Your arms going around his neck, deepening the kiss, while his hands kept roaming around your bare skin, with a much more gentle touch than he ever used with you.
There was no interruption when he lifted you up and then laid you back on your bed, his body lying between your legs which were wrapped around his waist, giving him no space to move.
Megumi softly unwrapped your arms, looking down at you with a flustered face, heavy breath at your disheveled form, he lifted off the piece of cloth covering you, leaving you in your soaking pair of panties. He could see the faint marks the guy of last night left on you, his heart was throbbing in pain at the sight, but he knew this is what he got for playing with you initially.
He took off his own, leaving the bulge in his pants more evident. He leaned back down, his lips trailing kisses all over, leaving new marks, harsher ones to make his own claim stronger than the previous.
You felt your panties being slipped off, once he was done with the hickeys he started to press kisses from your ankle, leaving red and pink marks on your inner thighs, till his tongue ran through your folds. Savoring you, loving seeing the way you squirmed at the sensitive and intimate touch. He hummed and moaned on you, stimulating, pleasing and teasing.
Megumi kissed your clit once before sitting back up, pulling down the pants holding tightly his growing and hardening bulge.
His cock tipped on your wet pussy, rubbing, collecting lube till slipping in fully.
A groan escaping his mouth at the feeling of your warm velvety walls clamping down on him, he stopped his hips sinking in, keeping himself back from immediately cumming.
He leaned down, pinning you down with his forearms, going back to your lips, making you feel your own taste on your tongue, he guided your arms back around you, making your nails dig on his skin, giving you permission to do it, to mark him as well, something you knew he was never comfortable with.
He wanted to have you claim him.
He thrusted with more ferociousness, your bed moving with his movements, hitting on the wall, echoing with skin slapping, and his loud moans of pleasure and pain at the deep scratches on his back and shoulders almost drawing out blood.
Your eyes were spilling out tears, your emotions were running all over the place, your heart throbbed and your mind couldn’t comprehend the fact that you were going to let him go after he showed you such love and affection. It was for the better in the end.
Droplets of water made you open your eyes in the slightest, seeing his expression, your heart stopped at him crying.
He was crying, he was being pressured with the same amount of feelings you were, did he have your same realization? Did he get how he’d let go of you now?
Your high approached sooner, moaning out, pulling away from the kiss, he kept his lips on your body, going down on your chest and neck, while your mouth was left agape as you came around him.
Not many seconds later his sloppy thrusts had him completely fill you, spilling thick ropes of cum into your womb.
The two of you were left heavy breathing, his body collapsed on yours, arms around one another, neither of you wanted to let go.
When he decided to finally back up and pull out, your heart started to beat faster, expecting to see him dress up and getting out, you were even more nervous when he only pulled up his underwear and walked in the bathroom. You noticed his fair skin with deep red marks, feeling for a second a bit of satisfaction in this.
When he came back, he started to wipe with a wet wipe, the seed that was oozing out of you, he was taking care of you instead of leaving you, he pulled you in him, getting the both of you under the sheets, spooning you, his arms tightly wrapped around your waist.
His lips pressed against the back of your head, you felt his heart pick up as well as his breathing getting heavier.
“I love you.”
He had his eyes shut but it didn’t stop him from feeling your body stiffening under his hold.
“Megumi-“
“I do. But I don’t know how to do this. I was scared and I said and did things that hurt you. I tried to keep at arm's length but I ended up falling for you too.”
“Don’t say this just to not let go of me.”
“Im not. It’s something that has been building up for some time, months, maybe even before we slept together at all. But I did not want to admit it, so I chose the path to keep you as close but not commit. And I’m sorry.
I didn’t sleep with anyone till that day Yuji commented on whether we were dating or not. I couldn’t believe it, I felt so ashamed after that I texted you, I wanted to hear from you even though I felt like I couldn’t face you.
I used girls just so I could drown the thought of having fallen for you, of the fear I felt.
I’m sorry.”
He tightened his hold around your bare skin, as he felt your sniffles, your body shaking lightly.
“I don’t fully trust you…” it was a sob, a plea, even if he confessed this all now, the doubts that had filled you, not only about him as a significant other but yourself, your own value, your security in yourself.
“I promise I will change for you, for myself and for us to work together. I will rebuild that trust, just give me a chance, be with me, let me earn your heart and forgiveness.”
Your head hurt, your heart did too, there was no answer once again, just the two of you falling asleep holding each other like lovers enjoying their last time.
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Open Ending.
1K notes · View notes
lorna-d-m · 2 years
Text
Chapter Six: Sunrise
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Pairing: Helmut Zemo x Fem!OC
Summary: Captain Zemo roams the high seas thirsting for revenge, and instead, he stumbles upon the shipwrecked and left for dead Mary Spencer. As the sole survivor, Captain Zemo takes her aboard his ship, the Bloody Baron. Engaged to an English Admiral, Mary Spencer wants nothing more than to return home and live the life she was born for. That is, of course, until she realizes what life can be aboard the Bloody Baron with the Captain himself.
Word Count: 5,298
W: Mild language, age gap, angst, alcohol consumption, slight body shaming and slut shaming
A/N: Finally, I can release this. Chapters Five and Six were going to be one chapter, but that would have been about 11,000 words and taken much longer, so I split it up. I hope y'all enjoy! Once again, note that I’ve moved Sokovia’s location and made it a Germanic language. Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist, or fill out the form on my pinned masterpost. Thank you so much!
previous chapter
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Helmut heard of Mary Spencer’s miraculous return, or so everyone called it, in the afternoon at the marketplace. After all, it was the best place to hear fresh news as vendors replenished their merchandise and chatted after their lunch breaks. He did not need to purchase anything, so he wandered through the stalls and the stores listening. They spoke of the dinner the Governor would host that night, supposedly lavish yet arranged at the last possible moment. He knew the news would break soon, such a spectacular story would draw listeners and breed repetition, but he did not expect to feel wounded when he heard.
It was as if the scars along his heart that he cut so precisely and carefully, suddenly scratched and burned, aching at the mere mention of what used to be there. Helmut froze, a breath caught in his chest and his expression uncertain. The rational part of him wanted to stay and listen, comparing rumors and gossip to distinguish the truth, but the other part of Helmut wished to drink his fill of cheap beer and rum until he could not feel the pain anymore.
How do you think she returned? See I’ve never ‘eard of this ship…Bloody miraculous recovery if you ask me. Bloody suspicious too…And she’s the admiral’s fiance? Doubt she’s still fit to be so…Have you seen her? I heard not a single dress at the Governor’s house fit her and they placed a rush order… How is a girl like that engaged to an Admiral? It must have been a hell of a dowry…
Helmut could not stand listening to their conversations anymore. He abandoned his spot in the sunny marketplace in favor of some shady corner in a tavern. The best dives were down by the docks where there was at least a brawl every hour and men stumbling to and fro clutching their mugs of beer. Somewhere the dockworkers and the visiting sailors spent all of their coin on barely tolerable drinks. A place where Helmut could forget his own name, and hers.
The barmen and the servers knew by Helmut’s clothes he had more money than the typical customer, therefore they paid close attention to him and made sure he was never wanting. The more money they could squeeze from him the better. Before he could even ask for another round someone was filling his cup with a charming smile. Amidst the drunken singing, dancing, and revelry, no one else noticed Helmut sitting alone at a table in the darkened corner, brooding.
How could he have been so foolish? So hopelessly naïve? Helmut knew from his first conversation with her who she was and who she would become, and yet he grew fond of her. In the beginning, he thought it was born of duty or concern, and the reciprocation he thought he saw was mistaken dependence. Then with another swig of his drink, he realized that although Mary had been found untethered and unbound, it was Helmut who was unmoored. He clung to her for everything she was and all he was not. Mary was kinder than him, the type of person who radiates warmth and affection, and far more optimistic than him. There was still a hopeful glimmer in her eye when she spoke, something that endeared her to him And, he thought bitterly, she was not consumed by vengeance like him.
Not to mention the guilt that threatened to turn his stomach. Mary would build a life with John Walker, and Helmut would tear it to pieces. Was it crueler to wait, he wondered, when she would grow fond of him and have children, and should he strike so soon after the wedding? Perhaps if he stuck when their love was in its infancy it would be easier for her, though she would never forgive him. Mary would always remember him as the man who killed her husband, just as Helmut remembered John Walker as the killer of his family. He drained his cup and grimaced at the thought of hurting her.
Helmut asked the waitress to replace his beer with rum; he needed something stronger. Something that could burn away every thought. She started to pour out the drink for him, but he instructed her to leave the bottle. He had the money to afford it and the morose look in his eye to drink it, so she let him be.
At one point he looked up in his drunken stupor and saw a girl, a girl who in hazy lighting and a blurrier mind might have been Mary Spencer, with some gruff man leering at her and leaning over the table. Helmut stood quickly, knocking over the chair, and stormed across the room telling the man off. He roughly grabbed the man by the shoulder, intending to punch him squarely in the nose, but when he glanced at the girl to ensure she was alright, he realized it was not Mary. It was another woman, worried for her safety when he was so near.
Another man intercepted him, and Helmut realized with a harsh laugh how similar to a raging bull he must have looked: huffing and puffing, eyes bulging, and defending what he thought was his territory. Helmut half-heartedly apologized, trying not to be kicked out, and sauntered back to his table. With a heavy groan, he leaned over, righted the chair, and sat back down. His face flushed, from the embarrassment or the drink he did not know, but he downed the rest of the cup while everyone watched him.
He minded his business from then on, barely looking up from the wood grain pattern of the table. Although he drank to forget, Helmut could not. In such a short amount of time, Mary etched herself into his brain. He could picture her sitting in front of him, her proper posture, and hear her chastising him in her musical voice. Hell, even her warm, delicate touch was burned into his skin. Helmut remembered how her fingers did not flinch when they passed over his scars, how kindly and softly she tended to his wounds, as if she was not afraid of him, but rather she cared for him.
Hours later, a woman touched him on the shoulder as she refilled his cup. She started to speak to him, something about bucking up, but he cut her off with pleading eyes. Woefully wide and brown, they reminded her of a dog that had been kicked too many times. Please, stop, Helmut had to work hard so as not to slur the words when he spoke. She stepped away muttering an apology he did not listen to, pitying him.
At the end of the night, just before sunrise if he was honest with himself, Helmut realized he would be unable to find his ship in the harbor. Or rather, he did not want to stumble and find his ship amongst dozens of others with a pounding headache and nauseous guilt. He handed some coins to the barkeep, he did not even bother to count them, and asked for a room upstairs that was in half-decent condition. The man happily led Helmut upstairs considering he paid double the going rate, but Helmut could not bring himself to care. He merely needed a horizontal surface, and this sorry excuse for a bed would do.
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Mary awoke in the morning, and she knew she needed a plan. Dreams of running away and meeting Helmut at the docks were nice, but she needed something definitive to make it more than a fantasy. She needed to make it real. After dressing in the light blue day gown, Mary ate a quiet breakfast with Lord Stewart and his wife. There was no conversation and the clanking, scraping silverware filled the room.
“Might it be possible for a tour of the gardens today?” They glowered at her, but Mary stayed strong and spoke charmingly. “I can see them from my window, and it is such a lovely day. It would be a shame not to.”
Lady Stewart sipped her tea and side-eyed Mary before responding. “Are you certain it will not over exhaust you? We would not want it to be a strain on your nerves.”
Mary knew it was a digging comment about the previous night, but she kept her smile. “I have always found the fresh morning air to be invigorating. A gentle breeze, the warming sun, the fragrant flowers…” She knew flattery rarely failed, so she continued. “I heard you were in charge of the layout and floral choices. I would love to admire your handiwork. You always had such a keen eye for design.” Truthfully, Mary hated Margaret’s fashion choices and even grew nauseous at some particularly garish dresses, but this was not the time to mention that.
“I was invariably envied,” Lady Stewart smirked at the compliment and the memory, “and perhaps it would be nice to take a stroll in the garden. After breakfast, we shall go.”
Although it was pleasing to amble through the garden, Mary had other ambitions. Yes, she admired the tropical plants more native to the area and the homegrown favorites Lady Stewart, or rather the gardeners, worked hard to keep alive, but she also took note of many other details. Entrances and exits, where her window opened to in the courtyard, where the martial patrols watched. Anything that would be useful to her when she made her escape.
Whilst Lady Stewart prattled on about the geraniums to Mary’s right, she paused. “My, you look excited?” Mary flushed pinker than the flowers, but Elizabeth continued speaking, “I suppose this was a swell idea. I am glad I thought of it.” Margaret babbled about the flowers much to Mary’s relief.
Mary allowed her to take the credit because she was incredibly delighted, but not for the reason Margaret thought. Every passing moment put her one step closer to her departure. She anxiously planned what she would take with her, not much she knew, but the spiteful part of her wanted to take the jewelry the Stewarts gave to her. They would be easy to stuff down her bodice if necessary, and she would feel like a proper pirate if she returned with stolen treasure. Mary could hear the little laugh Helmut would give when he knew, chuckling in admiration, and she could picture the wide smile he would have. She wanted to please him.
The ladies returned from their walk with Margaret commenting they had more than enough sun for the day, so Mary suggested they read or sew in the parlor. It would give her time to think as she mindlessly worked the needle or skimmed the pages. Lady Stewart agreed, pleased Mary was showing more decorum than she had the night before, and they spent the afternoon lounging in the salon, chatting occasionally. In the lulls and silence, Mary strategized for the night.
She knew she wanted to bring the lingerie; it would be simple to wear under her clothes. Mary could also wear one of her new dresses, but bringing anything more than that would be difficult. And which one would she wear? The light blue, the dark green, or the pink? Whichever one would be easiest for her to dress in alone, Mary decided with a light sigh. While she adored the emerald green dress with the white trim, she knew it would be more of a challenge than the light blue she wore at the moment. Perhaps Helmut would compare it to the sky on a cloudless day and liken her to the sun.
If she plotted her getaway at night, would she need a lantern or a candle? Or would that make it easier for the roundsman to spot her? Maybe the starlight and moonlight would be enough for her to see. Mary worried about remembering her way to the docks. To get to the Governor’s house she asked directions half a dozen times, but in the middle of the night and on the run, Mary did not anticipate being able to ask for help.
She grew nervous when she considered the dangers — a shiver ran down her spine and she blamed it on a draft — but Mary steeled her nerves. She would not be meek and mild any longer. For the first time in her life, and certainly not the last, Mary would be brave. She would chase her dream.
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Helmut left the land of dreams and found himself in a dingy, dreary, tavern room steeped in rum and regret, and in the throes of the worst hangover of his life. He was no longer a young man, he thought ruefully as he rubbed his temples, and his drinking caught up with him. His throat was parched, dryer than powdery sand, and he wished to sink into the uncomfortable bed and back to sleep. But, he had a ship to run and a crew to see to, so with a deep groan, he stumbled to his feet.
Hanging on the wall was a crooked mirror — a dirty, dusty mirror — so Helmut wiped the grime away with his sleeve. In the dim reflection, he could not recognize himself. Surely this haggard man with his wrinkled shirt, bedraggled hair, scruffy beard, and dark circles under his eyes could not be Baron Helmut Zemo. No, he sighed and slowly rubbed his eyes, this was him. How the mighty have fallen. He thought about throwing the mirror to the floor, bad luck be damned, but he was too exhausted to do so. Instead, he began his return to the ship.
The brilliant southern sun blinded him, and too late Helmut shielded his eyes. He squinted and grimaced, realizing it was not morning as he thought but midday. The street bustled before him, people, horses, and carts moving to and fro, and he braved the Charles Town traffic. Helmut felt sluggish compared to them, every step a struggle for him, but he soldiered on.
Oeznik spotted him on his return; it was not difficult to recognize the Captain in a crowd. Try as he might and tired as a dog, there was no mistaking the regal way Helmut carried himself: pride in his shoulders, a stern back, and a sure step. He changed when he approached the ship, forcing a confident face and a firm air to mask his exhaustion, but Oeznik knew how close to collapsing Helmut was. He made for the galley, knowing he needed a proper meal to soak up all the alcohol in his gut.
Helmut closed his cabin door behind him and leaned against it, showing his fatigue again. He ran a hand through his hair, feeling the build-up of dirt and oil, and knew he ought to bathe, the sooner the better. Oeznik stood by the desk with a full breakfast laid out, and just the smell of it made Helmut’s stomach growl. His voice was hoarse, yet he asked, “How long have you been waiting?”
“Not long,” he lightly chuckled, “since last night, but I knew you would return. You should eat, sir.” Oeznik gestured to the food, and Helmut happily took a seat. Greasy bacon and eggs would do him a world of good and take some of the edge off. “Would you like the news from the ship, or would you prefer silence?”
“Tell me, I learned far too much in the markets.” He reached for his morning tea, or rather afternoon tea now, and gratefully sipped. When he tasted the honey he thought wistfully of Mary, but he pushed that thought away. “What has been happening on my ship?”
“The men are growing restless which is unsurprising. They wish to either go to port or leave the city soon. Sam and James are doing their best to calm the tensions, and it is working so far. Seeing the docks and the taverns merely makes the men wish they could go.” Helmut nodded because his mouth was full of food. Tempting them with land, women, and beer was enough to rile them up, but telling them no heightened the tension. He knew it would be a problem, but he also trusted them to control themselves. “Other than that, all is well. The food inventory is good, as is the ammunition, the water could use replenishing, but it always does.” Oeznik paused as he wanted to gauge Helmut’s reaction to his next sentence. “The harbor master stopped by this morning to say you have until tomorrow to leave as there are doubts about the legality of your ship.”
“I planned to leave tomorrow anyway.” If he wanted to offload any of his goods, he would need to go someplace else, which he intended to do. Helmut did not want to spend any more time in Charles Town than necessary. In the morning he would sail far, far away. “Thank you,” he admitted, “for keeping an eye on my ship.”
“I suspect I should be watching you instead,” Oeznik half chuckled, “You hardly look like the ship’s Captain at the moment. Where did you sleep?”
Helmut laughed bitterly at himself. He did not look like a Captain or even a crewmate. He resembled a sloven drunkard one would expect to see half slumped over a barrel outside of a tavern. Wearied and worn down. “Above the bar,” he answered sheepishly, “I overpaid the barkeep for both the room and the drinks. I may be his favorite customer if I did not try to fight other patrons.”
Oeznik took a seat at the round table, the years weighing on his joints, and continued prying. He did not want to see Helmut run from his problems any longer, and while he suspected the answer, he knew forcing him to discuss it would help. “What were you drinking to forget?”
Helmut scowled, more at himself than Oeznik’s intrusion. He did not generally consider himself a coward — he preferred to think of himself as a man of action —, but even he was forced to admit getting blindingly drunk was not his bravest nor smartest choice. He momentarily ignored the question in favor of his breakfast, chewing slowly, and when he finished the plate he stared at the grease and oil marks. Only when he felt sure of what he wanted to say did he speak.
“Do you think she will be happy with him?” The creases in Helmut’s brow showed, he pressed his lips into a thin line, and his eyes studied Oeznik’s shifting expression, longing for a sign. Helmut did not think such a thing was possible, love and contentment with John Walker, but it gnawed at him. He should have stopped her, told her what a cruel man her fiancé could be, confessed his own dastardly plans for the man, and begged her not to leave. But Helmut was a coward, and he could not tell her he would kill her fiancé.
“Potentially more importantly,” Oeznik hesitated at Helmut’s lamentable expression, his brown eyes wide and full of worry, “do you think so? If Mary is to be blissfully married, can you overcome your own desire for revenge?”
Helmut leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose between his fingers, rubbing deliberately. His pounding headache refused to subside, and Oeznik’s question was precisely why Helmut drank the night before. He sighed heavily, blinking slowly as if it would help him, and tapping his knuckles against the desk. Helmut did not know which desire was stronger: exacting revenge for the death of his family or seeing Mary happy. Moreover, he did not know which would be more painful: allowing Carl and Heike’s killer to walk free after vowing justice or ruining Mary’s chance at happiness.
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Mary felt antsy through all of dinner, and it took all of her attention to appear calm. Thankfully, Mr. and Mrs. Stewart led the conversation, so Mary only needed to contribute every now and then in agreement, but under the table, she lightly tapped her foot against the carpet. Occasionally, she missed a question or a remark, and she asked them to repeat or strung together an answer. Mary worried they thought she was a ditz, she was so scatterbrained, but in the morning it would not matter.
Come sunrise, Mary hoped to be far, far away from Charles Town. She would be happily reunited with Helmut and finally be brave enough to kiss him. She smiled at the thought, eager to see him again, but her stomach flipped when she realized she would need to find him first without being caught. There were certainly risks to her daring plan, one meddlesome guard could ruin everything, and should she be caught she could not imagine how her life would fall apart. Stealing the Stewarts’ jewelry and running away to be with a pirate was hardly what a lady of society did.
At night, when she thought everyone in the house would be sound asleep, Mary enacted her plan. There was only so much she could do in the daytime with Ms. Stone’s watchful eye, so now Mary cautiously lit a candle. She discarded the more modest nightgown she wore for one she was supposed to save for her wedding, and then she began donning the light blue day dress. It was difficult to do by herself — she had been careful to lace it up as much as she could before slipping it on —, but Mary managed to make it stay on. After all, it was not as if she would be presented and paraded in the gown.
She brought the flickering candle to the vanity and laid out the jewelry. It shimmered silver and gold in the light, mesmerizing at any other time. Slipping the rings onto her fingers was easy, as was pinning an elaborate hair comb in place, but the necklaces would need to be placed in her bodice, held tight by the laces and the stays. It was rather unladylike, Mary almost laughed, stuffing such fine jewelry there, but perhaps it would make her a pirate.
As for shoes, Mary knew she needed something sturdy. She lost her dainty slippers in the shipwreck, and on the Bloody Baron Helmut found a spare pair of shoes for her, his, she suspected. Nothing she possessed was meant for more than a leisurely stroll through the gardens, so Mary would simply need to be careful as she traversed the city streets. The last thing she needed was to step in muck, or far worse, or have something poke through to her foot. She did not want to limp to Helmut, she wanted to run to him.
Mary glanced around the room trying to decide if there was anything she missed. There was not much else she could carry, at least not if she wanted to move quickly and quietly. She considered penning a quick note to explain her absence, perhaps it would be fun to tell them the true story, but then Mary thought better of it. She bid goodbye to the room, and, in a way, to the life she would have had. There would be no more stuffy, elegant ballrooms and insufferable fancy dinners, but she would have the open starry sky and anywhere the seas could take her. She would not suffer through any more agonizing conversations; she would speak her mind wholeheartedly. And, Mary would not fear learning how to love a man she never met, but feel safe and cherished with Helmut.
After deciding she was ready to leave, and stamping down her growing anxiety about doing so, Mary quietly brought the vanity chair to the window near the bath. She was taller than most women her age, but she did not think she could gracefully climb through the window without assistance. She used the candle to see the latches, and then she blew out the small flame. No light would mean she moved slowly, carefully, through the dark with only her hope as her guiding light.
The soft garden dirt squished under her feet, and Mary hitched up her skirts with her fists. She stayed close to the house wall, crouching down in front of the windows so as not to be seen, and remembering her garden tour from the morning. Once she found her way out of the gardens and off the property, Mary would be home free.
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Helmut found it odd to lie in his bed. After so many nights away, in a hammock in Oeznik’s cabin, it did not feel right to him. Sure, he appreciated the way his back felt on the bed compared to the hammock, that was a relief, and he enjoyed the privacy, but Helmut had the sneaking feeling he was invading someone’s space. The bed was too big, too plush, too empty. And, he swore the pillows smelled like Mary: soft and floral.
After breakfast that morning, Helmut took a necessary bath. Refreshed and renewed, he was able to take on the day, albeit late. He believed that if he looked like a Captain then he would feel like a Captain. Securing water for the ship was simple, the barrels were delivered in the afternoon, and he purchased good, but preservable, food for the crew that evening. It was his wordless apology to them for docking but not allowing them to go ashore.
With his hands behind his head, cradling it against the pillow, Helmut was unable to sleep. The bed was not uncomfortable, and the lights were blocked out by the curtains, but he was restless. As much as he wanted to blame his inability to sleep on his late morning, he knew that would be untrue. His guilt and his shame kept him awake, lingering in his bones and rendering him unable to sleep. He would drift off to sleep, and then every hour or so he would fitfully awaken again.
After the third or fourth occurrence, Helmut reluctantly left the bed and began preparing for the day. There was no such thing as too early aboard a ship, and if he could not sleep he may as well dress and go above deck. He still had the admiral’s journal to pour through, searching for clues and indicators, and he could plot his next course south.
Helmut lit an oil lantern on the nightstand and rifled through a trunk for clothes. Many of his clothes had been worn by Mary and needed to be laundered, but he found a clean pair of black pants and a cream-colored shirt. He fastened his sword belt and slipped on his coat, ready for whatever the day may hold.
The sun had yet to rise, Helmut knew by the color of the clouds near the horizon it would be soon, so he lit a lantern by the helm. Most of the men were sleeping, only a handful made up the nighttime watch, but Helmut acknowledged each one he encountered. It boosted their morale to be recognized by him, so it was important to him. Helmut carefully flipped through the pages of the journals and logs, making note of anything that caught his interest, and he debated making tea in the galley. The cook would be waking soon, if not already, to prepare breakfast, and a cup of strong black tea might be just what he needed.
As time passed, the crew stirred from their beds and the sun slowly crept into the sky. It lightened, where the sky met the sea first and gained color as the men spilled onto the deck and took up their posts. They had been forewarned Zemo wanted to leave soon after sunrise, intending to make the most of the day, and they hurried about preparing the ship under his watchful eye.
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Mary’s heart threatened to beat out of her chest as she approached the docks. People milled about, crowding the path and her vision, and she struggled to find the right ship. Helmut wished to leave early, and as the sky continued to lighten she feared she would be too late. Her feet pounded against the ground as she ran faster, panting and clutching at her skirts to keep herself from tripping.
After passing several decadent merchant ships and battle-hardened warships, Mary spotted the Bloody Baron further down the harbor. She recognized it not by its features or design, but by the unmistakable feeling of belonging Mary felt in her heart. The ship would become her new home, pirating her new life, Helmut her partner, and Mary could not wait any longer to begin anew. Determined, she pushed her way through the crowds.
On the pier, Mart knew she looked out of place, but she was not bothered by them. Men openly gaped at the screaming woman in fine jewelry and dress, but Mary needed to do everything in her power to be reunited with him. She would not let anything stop her.
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“Sir,” Helmut glanced up at Oeznik’s voice, “I believe you may want to see this.”
“What is it?” Unconcerned, he sipped his tea. “The harbormaster coming to kick us out?” It was past sunrise, their due time to leave, but would set sail momentarily.
“No sir,” Oeznik chuckled lightly, “there appears to be a woman running up the pier wearing an elegant blue dress. Perhaps you know her?”
Helmut slammed the journal down on the table. “Mary? By God!” He scrambled from the table and hurried down the steps. Leaning over the side railing and waving his arms, he desperately tried to catch her attention. “Mary!” He called out, “Mary!”
“Helmut!” She stopped in her tracks upon seeing him, filled with relief and joy, and he ran down the gangplank toward her. Salty tears spilled down her cheeks, and she eagerly met him on the walkway. The water lay at either side of them, white-crested waves that hit the docks, and the morning sun dawned orange and pink behind them.
Heroically, Helmut picked her up, held her tight, and spun her around. He breathed in the perfumed scent of her, felt her heartbeat against his, and he wanted to stay in that moment forever. Mary wrapped her arms around his neck, her forehead pressed against his, and unable to speak at first. Nevertheless, Helmut understood and grinned, catching his breath too.
When he felt she steadied, he set her down, but he kept his hands on her waist. His fingers burned, Mary was shockingly aware of their heat, but she found comfort in them. Helmut was not letting her go, not for a moment.
“I don’t want my old life.” His warm, dark eyes met hers as he listened. Tears continued to stream down her cheeks, and he wiped them away with a smile and an encouraging nod. “I want you, Hel, and I want this.” She stepped as close to him as she could, eliminating any space between them, when he suddenly kissed her, his hand moving to cup her cheek. Her breath hitched when he did, but she leaned into his touch.
Mary was receptive to his kiss, giddy and excited, and surprised by the gentle intrusion of his tongue. He tasted of black tea and something else, something indescribably Zemo, sweet and enticing. His thumb stroked her cheek, and his fingers still on her waist squeezed. Mary thought his touch was intoxicating, clouding her head and making her blush, but she desperately craved more.
Helmut pulled away and chuckled at the needy pout of her lips. He wanted to kiss her again, he would kiss her again, but they needed to get off the gangplank and set sail. They needed to start their new life together and put Charles Town far, far behind them.
“I want you too, Sternchen.”
next chapter
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an icarus and his sun: chapter 5
A/N: it's formal ball time :) where nothing will go wrong :) (also this morning i saw a tweet from scott smajor casually mentioning he looked at the empires smp tag on tumblr AND mentioning something about liking the "art and stories." so i've been dealing with the mortifying possibility of being known all morning, hope y'all are having a good day/night/whenever aksfdgkl)
Warnings: kissing, explosions, betrayal, violence, swordfights, mild disassociation 
AO3 Link - Tumblr Masterpost
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The night of the House Blossom Ball had arrived. Jimmy had to admit, getting Lizzie’s help with an outfit was a good idea. He wore a black suit with intricate, swirling bronze details that shimmered when the light hit them. He had a dark green bowtie as a nod to his empire, and he had indeed ditched the cod head. Instead, he wore a bronze colored masquerade mask that looked like two cod fish curling around his eyes, their fins spreading out and covering his forehead. It felt weird to have his hair exposed, but Lizzie helped him make sure it was presentable. Speaking of Lizzie, she was wearing a dress with the typical navy blue color of the Ocean Empire, but it had an ombre shift into the magenta of Mezalea at the end of the skirt. Joel wore his typical Mezalean garb, but with a navy blue sash instead of a green one. They walked into the ballroom as quite the dazzling trio- and then Jimmy’s heart just about stopped at the sight of Scott.
He was chatting with Pixl and one of the new rulers, a man with colorful wings like a parrot’s. But Jimmy was too busy staring at Scott to really pay attention to Pix and the other ruler, because Scott was wearing a ballgown. The main body of it was long sleeved and form fitting, made of white lace with shimmers of gold worked in, and was backless to allow room for his wings. Then there was a light blue overskirt to go with it, making the dress look like a full ballgown. Gold jewelry adorned him as well- on his wrists, around his neck, and hanging from his ears.
“Close your mouth, Jimmy,” Joel murmured with a teasing lilt. Jimmy snapped his mouth shut, looking down at the ground and extremely relieved that his masquerade mask covered the blush on his cheeks.
“How about we go and mingle with the other guests, I think Jimmy needs a minute to compose himself,” Lizzie teased. Jimmy nodded, too flustered to even protest. The three of them walked over to Katherine, who was chatting with Gem, Pearl, and a gnome girl in a dress that reminded Jimmy of a mushroom, with its red poofy top and white floor length skirt. The girl jumped a bit at the sight of Jimmy and Lizzie, but quickly composed herself.
“Hello! I am Shrub of the Undergrove. You may call me Shelby if you like though,” she said, seeming a little skittish as she spoke. Lizzie smiled gently, giving a curtsy. Joel and Jimmy quickly followed her lead, bowing at Shelby.
“Ocean’s blessings. I am Queen Lizzie, of the Ocean Empire. This is my husband, King Joel of Mezalea. And this is my dear friend, the Codfather of the Cod Empire,” Lizzie said, gesturing to each of them in turn.
“You can call me Jimmy though, if you want,” he added with a smile. Shelby jumped a bit when he spoke, but nodded and gave a hasty curtsy. Joel looked at her with gentle concern.
“Is everything alright?” he asked. Shelby nodded, a bit too hastily.
“Yes! Just not uh. Not super used to this many people,” she said with a nervous laugh, eyeing Lizzie and Jimmy warily. Joel frowned a bit at the way she was looking at them, but didn’t say anything.
“Jimmy, you aren’t making an enemy of our new friend already, are you?” Fwhip’s voice asked from somewhere behind them. Jimmy whirled around to glare at Fwhip, and of course Sausage was at his side.
“I’m just saying hello, Fwhip. Surely that’s allowed,” Jimmy huffed.
“Sure, that’s how it always starts though- next thing you know he’s stealing your things,” Sausage chimed in. Shelby looked rather alarmed, and Jimmy let out a frustrated sigh.
“For the millionth time, you had said that I could-”
“Oh listen, the music’s starting! Let’s dance!” Katherine interrupted him, and the whole ballroom seemed to let out a collective sigh of relief as people found their dance partners. Jimmy fully intended to step to the side and watch as the others danced, but then he met the mischievous glint in Lizzie’s eyes.
“Joel, is it alright if I go dance with Scott? I simply must compliment his dress,” Lizzie said airily. Joel smiled, just as wickedly as the glint in his wife’s eyes.
“As long as you don’t mind if I dance with the Codfather for a bit,” Joel replied.
“Of course!” Lizzie chirped, before heading off towards Scott. Jimmy squinted at Joel suspiciously as he led him to the dance floor. It wasn’t the first time the two of them had danced together, Joel had insisted that Jimmy practice with him before his wedding day. But it had frankly been a while, and he didn’t like the look he and Lizzie had exchanged before she went to dance with Scott.
“What are you up to?” Jimmy asked as he rested his hand on the small of Joel’s back, and Joel rested his hand on Jimmy’s shoulder. Their other hands were clasped together, and the two of them began gently swaying.
“Oh, nothing,” Joel replied, and that was all Jimmy could get out of him as they danced. They slowly made their way across the ballroom floor, and soon they were close to where Lizzie and Scott were dancing. And gosh were they a sight, all swirling skirts and elegance. Jimmy could tell Joel was just as distracted by Lizzie as Jimmy was by Scott. Then Lizzie noticed them staring, and she and Scott twirled closer.
“Jimmy! Let’s trade partners, I’d like to dance with my husband now!” Lizzie chimed, and before Jimmy could process what exactly that meant, he was spun into Scott’s arms. They were almost as close as they had been the day they fought- and there were those butterflies again. He didn’t know what to do with his hands- there was the issue of Scott’s wings and the fact that his dress exposed a lot of the skin on his back. But there wouldn’t be a point to worrying about that, Scott would surely push him away- but then Scott chuckled and took Jimmy’s hands in his, guiding them to where they should be.
“Here,” he said softly, placing one of Jimmy’s hands on his shoulder while his fingers laced with the other, then moved his free hand to rest on Jimmy’s back and pull him impossibly closer. Jimmy swallowed nervously, glancing over at Lizzie and Joel (who nodded encouragingly) before looking back to Scott.
“You look gorgeous,” Jimmy blurted as the two of them began to sway. Jimmy internally cursed himself for saying the first thing that popped into his head- but then Scott’s face flushed and it suddenly all felt worth it.
“Thank you. You clean up pretty well yourself,” he teased. Jimmy laughed.
“Lizzie helped,” he admitted. Scott laughed as well, the sound all sunshine and glittering gold.
“Should’ve known,” he replied, seeming distracted for a moment. Jimmy wanted to ask what was wrong, but Scott plastered on a smile and gently spun the two of them. Jimmy couldn’t help but smile along, heart soaring.
They continued dancing until the song ended, and then Scott was just… gone. He had twirled Jimmy and when he had finally managed to stop spinning and catch his balance, laughing and about to make a teasing remark about Scott making him dizzy- he realized he had vanished into the crowd. It felt like Scott had taken a bit of Jimmy’s heart with him. Jimmy looked around for him, and met Katherine’s concerned gaze instead. She gave a comforting smile as she walked over to Jimmy.
“I saw Scott go upstairs, I think he just needed some fresh air after dancing. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind some company,” she said with a wink, nudging Jimmy towards the stairs. He chuckled, thanking Katherine before heading up the stairs. She was right, there was no need to be worried! Jimmy just kinda wished Scott would have said something.
Jimmy’s breath was once again taken away when he saw Scott standing on the balcony. If Jimmy thought he was beautiful in the sunlight, he was even more stunning in the moonlight. The white of his wings practically glowed, and while the gold didn’t shimmer quite as bright as it did in the sun, it still sent Jimmy’s heart fluttering all the same. The only thing that ruined the image was how… distressed Scott looked. His hands were fiddling with the gold bracelets he wore, and his mouth was fixed in a frown. Maybe he needed some space, clearly something about the dance upset him- he probably hadn’t really wanted to dance with Jimmy, and just played along cause everyone was watching. Jimmy should definitely apologize before giving him some space.
“Scott? I promise I’ll leave you alone after this, but I just wanted to apologize,” Jimmy said, trying not to let his heartbreak show. Scott jumped in surprise, turning to look at Jimmy.
“Apologize? For what?” he asked, seeming genuinely confused.
“The dance. Joel and Lizzie schemed against my will, I just wanted to say I’m sorry,” Jimmy explained, guilt welling up in his stomach. To his surprise, Scott gave a soft laugh.
“You don’t need to apologize for that. I… I liked dancing with you,” he confessed. Jimmy’s heart was sent fluttering once more, and he stepped closer to Scott with a grin.
“Oh! Good, I was just worried because you left and you looked upset when I came up here,” Jimmy said, deflating only a little bit when Scott only smiled and nodded in response before gazing out over the lands of the Overgrown. There was awkward silence for a moment or two, until Scott suddenly moved closer to Jimmy, almost as close as they had been when they were dancing. Butterflies sparked in Jimmy’s stomach at the little distance between them.
“I need to tell you something,” Scott blurted. He looked nervous, almost like he had been when Jimmy first had come up to the balcony.
“Of course, what is it?” Jimmy asked soothingly. Scott looked him in the eyes, mouth opening and closing uselessly- until he broke eye contact for a brief moment before locking eyes with him again, something desperate in his gaze. Then suddenly Scott’s hands were gently cradling his face and there were lips on his. Scott’s lips. Scott was kissing him. Jimmy gasped in surprise against his mouth before quickly sinking into the kiss and running his hands through Scott’s stupid perfect hair. Scott’s hands drifted down from his face to his waist, pulling him in closer as his wings wrapped around them both, shielding them from the outside world so it was only Scott and Jimmy. Then Scott tilted his head and the kiss went from pleasantly warm to blazing, sending sparks racing up Jimmy’s spine. It left him dizzyingly breathless, like Scott had spun him a thousand times on the dance floor, and Jimmy never wanted it to end-
And then a thundering BOOM rattled the castle, breaking them apart. Scott clung to Jimmy, arms tightening around his waist as his breath hitched in fear, and Jimmy held him back just as tightly. There was something unreadable in Scott’s expression alongside the fear, but Jimmy didn’t have time to decipher it before another BOOM shook the castle. Jimmy was about to ask what was going on, but the sound of someone landing on the roof behind him and the voice that went with it stopped him cold.
“Well what do we have here?” Fwhip crooned, and Scott practically snarled as he shifted his hold on Jimmy so that one arm was curled protectively around his waist, his wing shielding him as well, as he drew a sword from somewhere within his skirts and pointed it at Fwhip. Dimly, Jimmy remembered that there weren’t supposed to be weapons at the ball, Katherine had made a rule.
“Leave before I make you,” Scott growled, the sound of his voice sending liquid fire through Jimmy’s veins. Fwhip gave an incredulous scoff, shaking his head.
“Playing the part a little too well, are we?” he sneered, and just like that the fire in his veins went cold, and he realized what that strange look on Scott’s face had been before. Guilt. Scott’s grip on him suddenly felt suffocating, more like he was holding Jimmy hostage rather than protecting him.
“Let go of me,” Jimmy demanded, voice hollow. Scott’s grip only tightened on him, and Jimmy’s heart rate spiked in fear.
“Don’t listen to Fwhip, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” Scott said shakily. Fwhip let out a cruel laugh.
“Oh come on Scott, you’re the one who helped make this possible,” he jeered, and the castle shook with another explosion. Jimmy’s stomach dropped. Scott was in league with Fwhip. Scott had plotted against him, and lulled Jimmy into a false sense of security with dazzling smiles and soft lips.
“Jimmy-” Scott started, but was cut off by the sound of people bounding up the stairs and shouting. Jimmy’s head whipped over to see Katherine, Lizzie, and Joel coming up to the balcony.
“Fwhip! How could you do this!” Katherine demanded, tears streaming down her face. Fwhip merely laughed.
“I told you the ball would be a blast, Katherine,” he sneered. Anger boiled in Jimmy’s stomach at Fwhip’s tone towards Katherine, and he squirmed against Scott’s hold.
“Jimmy,” Scott warned, voice low. Joel mistook the tone of Scott’s voice, and leveled his sword at him- somehow Jimmy missed that he was holding it, he must have grabbed it from the chests at the front of the castle.
“Release the Codfather. Now. I won’t let you destroy this castle and take an ally hostage,” Joel growled.
“Joel, stay out of this. You don’t understand what’s happening,” Scott said, voice calm and even. Joel let out a harsh laugh, tightening his grip on his sword.
“I understand plenty,” he snarled, leaping at Scott. Scott was forced to toss Jimmy to the side to block the incoming strike, and Jimmy watched them fight with some sort of dazed confusion as he fell to the ground. Everything felt cold and hollow, and Jimmy didn’t really feel connected to his body as Lizzie scrambled to his side, helping him up and murmuring words of comfort.
“C’mon Jimmy, we’ve gotta get out of here,” she said, voice soft but no less urgent as she gently squeezed Jimmy’s hand. He met Scott’s eyes briefly as he was holding off Joel, and that was decision enough for Jimmy. He squeezed Lizzie’s hand back, and ran with her.
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1234-angelika · 3 years
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Sparking Joy
an: Hey y'all! So this was actually supposed to be up last night but, this piece gave me a bit of trouble-writers block hit me hard. Nevertheless, it is finished. This is the seventh installment in the Happily Ever After series for David. As always, hope y'all enjoy!
words: 1.2k
warnings: mentions of food, age-gap couple,
summary:"We meet the people we're supposed to when the time is just right." -Alyson Noel
masterpost|taglist|have an idea
As hard as the two of you tried to keep your relationship out of the public eye, you knew eventually it would get out. However, what you weren’t prepared for, was the media storm resulting from your relationship getting out.
A couple months into your relationship, David met your family. What was left of it anyway; your mom died when you were young so, your dad raised you with help from his siblings—your aunts and uncles. That dinner, to put it mildly, was a disaster. Your relationship was not as well-received as you hoped it would be, but, over the year, your family had warmed up to him. He told you about his past at the beginning of your relationship—including his dead son and the daughter he had only recently met and began to get to know. You weren’t naive about what he did for work outside of writing. You knew what happened with Aaron Hotchner and his family, so you understood David wanting to wait a little longer before introducing you to his family.
After a year together, though, you thought it was time for you to meet his family. It had been spoken about briefly between the two of you, but you kept putting off out of nerves—your age gap with David being the most significant stressor. What neither of you had taken into consideration was the fact that she was a journalist. Which meant that as soon as your relationship hit the tabloids, she would know. And after a few frantic calls, that was how you ended up planning a dinner at the last minute for the following evening.
Tonight was going to be the night! David invited his daughter and her family over for dinner on behalf of the two of you. Initially, it was only going to be his daughter, but you insisted on inviting her husband and son over as well.
You woke up, only to be met with darkness. Assuming you had awoken in the middle of the night, you rolled over to check your phone for the time. Unfortunately, the brilliant white glow of the numbers temporarily blinded you before you made out the time, five am. With a huff, you rolled back over and tried your darnedest to fall back asleep. Finally, after about twenty minutes of trying to fall back asleep, you just got up. You started your day with a run on the trails behind your home. The 2.7-mile run gave you space to think and try and relax for the day ahead.
You took a shower as soon as you got back and then changed into comfy clothes and packed a bag for the evening before heading down to the kitchen. By this time, David had woken up and went downstairs to make coffee. He had spent the night at your place, and the plan was to go over to his place, tidy up a little, get ready and make dinner in time for you to meet the family. So, after sharing your morning coffee, you and David climbed into the car and off you went.
The thirty-minute drive went smoothly. It was calm and quiet, except for the soft music spilling from the speakers. As soon as you got to his place, you made a bee-line to the kitchen to start preparing for dinner. You loved being in the kitchen; your chosen profession reflected that. Your love of cooking and the kitchen stemmed from being in the kitchen constantly with your dad as a child. David gave you directions to help with the prep, and it got done very quickly with the two of you.
After that was finished, you and David split the tasks and went off your separate ways to tidy the house. Dining room, living room, sitting room, kitchen; each room cleaned as much as possible. Blankets folded and pillows fluffed. The tidying actually took up the most time so, by the time you were done, you only had a couple hours before Joy, and her family were set to arrive. You put the dessert in the oven to bake and then headed upstairs to get ready.
You got so sweaty from the cleaning that you needed another shower. You were in and out in less than twenty minutes—which for you was fast. Next on the agenda was getting dressed. After that was doing your hair and makeup. A spritz of your favourite perfume and you were ready to go. You went back downstairs and found David in the kitchen, working on the dinner. The dessert resting on a cooling rack positioned on the counter.
“Dave, what can I do?”
Pointing to the stack of plates and napkins, he said, “you could set the table and get the wine out and apple juice for Kai.”
Grabbing the stack, you walked out the kitchen, and just before you were out of earshot, you heard David say, “you look great Bella!”
You just finished arranging the plates and napkins on the table when the doorbell rang. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw David rushing to the door. When he caught your eye, he gestured to the kitchen. Getting the hint, you moved in there and finished up dinner—basically just plating it. You could hear David greeting his family, and you just smiled. You were glad he had people outside of the team, separate from all the bad things he sees every day. After setting the dinner on the table, you heard footsteps coming closer to the dining room. Self-consciously, you softly touched your hair—checking for anything out of place and then smoothed out the non-existent wrinkles in your dress.
You smiled as they walked into the room. David moved to stand beside you and placed his arm around your waist.
“Joy, Shawn, Kai, I would like you to meet Y/N Y/L/N.”
You didn’t exactly get a warm reception from Joy, which you could understand. It was hard bringing a new person into your life, and from what you understood about the situation, David and Hayden had been getting closer before your relationship started. Shawn, on the other hand, greeted you with a smile rivalling the one of his son.
“Hi, Shawn Struthers, big fan of your work.” He said, shaking your hand enthusiastically.
“Hello. It’s nice to meet the both of you, I look forward to getting to know you.” You said as politely as possible, trying not to let Joy’s reaction sway your confidence too much. Next, you introduced yourself to Kai, and the adorable little boy greeted you with a shy wave before going back behind his dad. Finally, you all sat down in your seats. Once everyone had food and drinks, David said, “mangia!”
Once the dinner had started, and the drinks were flowing, the conversation came much easier. By the end of the night, Joy had warmed up to you a little bit, and you had even made plans to grab a coffee, just the two of you, so she could get to know you a little better.
taglist: @multixfandomwriter @gspenc @ssa-morgan @myescapefromthislife @Kleff03 @daddy-issues24-7 @j-cat
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christmas... cactus?
hbg christmas :D
posted on ao3, or read below
Feel free to check out the for eternity, time and time again masterpost!
Kayfour was curled up on their couch, spools of colored wool in their lap, their hands quickly crocheting a small plush. To their left was Draco, quickly finishing up a hat they knitted, sewing a small pom-pom they made on top. On the table over was Raddles, finishing her last painting, in bold strokes of purple, to be given as a gift. Fruit and Illumina shared the other couch, comparing their embroidery projects while taking care to not lose any needles. The gift making session was going fairly well, Kayfour mused, and they were glad that they semi-organized this.
Sure the snow was nice, providing a different highlight on the landscape, creating scenes that differ from the summer months. But that doesn't help with the fact that it was fucking freezing and how they'd rather just settle in their living room, where they had blankets and a fireplace, and could just invite others over to work on projects together. Either way, they're fairly cozy now, and were pretty happy with everyone sharing their current progress with each other, seeing art projects come to life.
---
Reign swam around a coral reef, peering closely at the school of fish swimming around.
He finally spotted the fish he was looking for: a pink and blue tropical fish, affectionately dubbed "the Fein Fish" by HBG. It bobbed around a fan coral, looking away from Reign.
Reign grabbed a bucket, and slowly, carefully swam towards the fish, and bucketed it, peering at the fish in the bucket (it was barely fazed by the change of scenery), before putting it in his pocket dimension. That was the last fish he needed for gifts, he mentally checked off, as he swam back to the coast, to his axolotl farm. Zy was waiting for him already, presumably already finding all the sweet berries the other insisted he needed to get. (Zylenox indeed, had a shulker filled with sweet berries, and Reign did not question how the other found them so quickly.)
Reign waved to Zy, before heading into the axolotl farm to grab one last thing before heading back to the HBG village: a blue axolotl, after weeks of waiting and thousands of axolotls hatched. He scooped up the axolotl in another bucket, took out a shulker box, filled with the buckets of fish and axolotls he was going to give, and placed the last two buckets inside.
He walked out of the farm, and traveled through the portal nearby with Zy, making their way back to HBG after hopping into a boat on the Nether Highway.
---
"Y'all are under mistletoe! Forehead or fight!" Fyroah called out, cupping his mouth to project his voice. Reign was laughing along with him.
Fein and Couri looked up. The mistletoe's bright colors mocked him. They had a choice: either a platonic forehead kiss, or they fight. Simple.
"So, mistletoe or mistlefoe Coru?" Fein asked cheekily.
Couri opened his wings. Fein gulped. Then Fein turned around and started running, but Couri tackled him (the damn wings giving the other a boost), and then a moment later Fein was stuck in a chokehold.
Well this was embarrassing.
Fein struggles a little bit, but soon gives up. There was no escaping the wrath of a short Couriway who currently has him in a chokehold.
"I forfeit," Fein wheezed, "I forfeit, let me go."
Couriway still hasn't Fein out of the chokehold. He can see the others gently laughing at him for getting into such a predicament.
Couri reached over and placed a platonic forehead kiss, before letting Fein out of the chokehold.
Fein grinned widely, and tackled Couri into a hug.
---
"What the fuck are we supposed to try to do?" Fyro asked.
Mustard looked back. "To be honest I barely have a clue."
"Well they told us to help decorate, except with the lights." Emerald stated. "Though that doesn't clear up much either."
Mustard paused and looked at the group. He had a brilliant idea.
"What if," Mustard paused for dramatic effect, "we made a snowdragon, but like a huge one."
"But what if it melts?" Silverr asked.
"... Any better ideas?"
Emerald took out a shulker box. It was filled with sand.
"Glass dragon. Can't Fyro smelt the sand anyways?"
"Absolutely." Fyro grinned, his flames glowing brightly with excitement.
"And we can just steal the shulker filled with dyes for a little bit to color the glass." Silverr added, nodding. "I'm gonna go do that now, if I remember correctly TapL has the shulker box today."
Silverr took off towards the direction of the communal forge and enchantment workstations, where TapL had said he would be, as the rest grabbed handfuls of sand, preparing to make the dragon.
They had roughly laid out lumps of sand for the dragon's legs, when Silverr returned. He took out a shulker from his pocket dimension and laid it out in front of him, rummaging through the sacks of powdered dyes, before grabbing the sacks holding black, gray, purple, red, and white dye.
Emerald came over and helped Silverr with the dye, sprinkling a pinch of the dye into the sand they had out, and mixing it with a shovel. Fyro came over and smelted the sand, molding the glass with his hands. Mustard quickly found and splashed a Fire Resistance potion on Emerald, Silverr, and himself, so they can also help out with molding the glass.
After a while, the dragon took form, standing ten blocks tall, wearing a cheery Christmas hat (also made of glass), guarding over the main plaza of the village.
The group stood back and admired their work, and then began to make their way to return the dye shulker box to TapL.
---
Punz was gently hammering out a ringlet of gold they were working on when they heard TapL whoop out in cheer, the last hum of magic from the enchantment table fading, as TapL slams the thin leather bound book he was working on shut. Punz looked up once they were satisfied with the shape, and looked at TapL.
"Last book that we need for our gifts, and once you're done with the metal art we can put the enchantments in!" He cheered, ink of different colors smeared on his left hand, golden light from channeling his magic fading. "And now, I just need to wait for Silverr to get back with the shulker of dyes."
"What'd you need the dyes for? You're done with creating the enchants so you don't need anymore colored ink right?" Punz asked, as they watched TapL walk out from the work area and unbound his wings. TapL stretched his arms and wings, detached from his back, golden with a light iridescent purple sheen, and probably way too large to fit comfortably nor to not knock anything over without being bound magically to TapL's back in the small workspace they were in.
"I'm experimenting with something new," TapL simply stated. "You know those new glowing squid thingies that someone found a while ago?"
"Yeah?"
"Their ink sacs are pretty interesting, if I say so myself."
Punz glanced briefly at the blast furnace's progress refining the gold ore they were waiting on. "What do you mean?"
"The ink glows in the dark," TapL explained. "I want to try to make some paints, ink, and maybe even thread or wool at some point, but for now I'll try making dye and ink. I think some of the artists would appreciate it as a gift."
"TapL that actually is so cool," Punz started. "I'm in awe."
"Thank you."
Silverr, Fyro, Emerald, and Mustard came in with the shulker that TapL was waiting for, handed off the shulker box, and quickly left to engage in more shenanigans.
Punz took out the last bit of refined gold from the blast furnace, and made the last of the gold ringlets they needed, as TapL took out a glass vial, a cyan ink sac (Punz assumed it was from one of the aforementioned squids), and one of the sacks of powdered dye.
Punz slowly worked the gold ringlets into a cohesive ring, as TapL dropped some of the ink into the glass vial, adding a pinch of powdered dye. TapL swirled the vial slowly, as Punz set the ring off to cool, the last bit of metal work for their big gift.
TapL set down the vial he was working on, and walked over to the anvil, surrounded by a stack of thin leather bound parchment books, and a pile of carefully made gold items.
Together, the two channeled their magic, fusing each book's blessings of protection, luck, and hopes of a better new year into each piece.
---
Tek sat outside, slowly fiddled with the settings on his helmet. He managed to set up a static image of a snowy forest to display on the front of the screen, but was struggling to get a slideshow of "festive photos" to cycle through properly. He sets the helmet down, as Switch, Reignex, and Dylan come up to him. This might not be good.
Reignex was the first to speak, with a smile that told Tek that he was up to no good.
"How's your helmet?"
"It is not going well, to be honest."
"You know what'd make it better?" Dylan replied, as Switch took out a disk.
Tek fucking hated that disk. It was a song that got looped at every jukebox, at all realms, it annoyed the shit out of everyone, but was still played for the sake of pissing people off.
"Fuck off man. I'm not playing that disk."
"But what if," Reign asked, "what if I said, that all I want for Christmas is you?"
"That's not going to work again, and don't fucking quote the lyrics at me."
"Well it sure did work yesterday, and the day before that," Dylan added, "and it sure is working for me."
"Come on man," Switch pleaded, "I don't want a lot for Christmas, but there is just one thing I need, which is for you to play this disc."
Tek looked like he wanted to scream.
Conveniently Feinberg came along a moment later, and asked Tek to help with the lights. After handing off his helmet to people that are (hopefully) more technologically competent than he is, Tek gladly followed Fein, Dylan in tow. Hopefully Reign and Switch manages to fix the problem with that helmet, and doesn't play tha-
He spoke too soon. Well there's nothing Tek can do about the two blasting that disc on loop at top volume now.
---
Fulham wouldn't say he was an excellent chef. But, Fulham would say he was glad that he was competent enough to avoid Eleventy's wrath. As he and Davie worked on a dish together, he resisted the urge to look back as he heard Eleventy yell, "Why is there slime here in the food?"
Pete probably wasn't lucky enough to avoid Eleventy's wrath this time.
A few minutes later, Fulham thought he smelled smoke. He checked and saw the others looking around in alarm. That wasn't a good sign.
Ninb looked up from the steak he was preparing. "What's on fire?"
"Can't be our stuff considering it's not on the stove yet." Davie replied.
Eleventy sighs deeply.
Pete put a hand over his heart in disbelief, "I, for once, was nowhere close to any source of fire."
"Everyone let's move out of the kitchen, and find some buckets of water," Eleventy stated tiredly, putting down the whisk he had in his hand before leaving the kitchen.
---
"To the left. No, a bit more."
"Dylan, why can't you just grab your elytra and help?" Draconix wailed.
"Well you guys need someone on the ground to see if it works don't you? Plus, Fein and Tek are already helping."
"Dylan. Dylan, you're not doing anything." Fein called down from the rooftop he was perched at, elytra tucked on his back. Draconix hovered in place a few blocks away from where Fein was, arms crossed in front of their chest.
"I'm helping!"
TapL and Couri flew down to where Dylan was, with their near twin-like pair of golden wings, having finished another roof. Tek, Zy, and Silverr soon glided down with their elytras and Illumina with his pairs of dragon wings, having finished more roofs as well. Fein and Draco finally finished the roof they were working on, and joined the group on the ground.
"Hopefully we've wired this correctly and nothing goes wrong," Tek stated, ready to complete the wiring for the stringed lights to glow.
A moment of silence (and people preparing either Fire Resistance potions or their buckets of water), and then cheering, as nothing blew up once the circuit was complete.
They cheered each other on for a job well done, and left on their way, promising not to be late for the last part of decorating the Christmas tree.
---
"What the fuck did you just do?" Fein turned back to glare at Reign.
"What do you mean, 'What the fuck did I just do?', you were the one to set it on fire bitch! You literally, came back, and managed to fuck up Tek's shit."
"Why don't you have a water bucket on you?"
"I used them all for gifts and shit, why don't you have a water bucket on you?"
Fein continued to glare at Reign (because let's be honest, he didn't have a good answer to that), before looking back at the flaming mess on the ground. "Well, what the fuck are we supposed to do now?"
"I'm gonna get some help putting the fire out, good luck guys." Switch stated, before leaving.
Tek walked back, and saw the scene in front of him.
"I literally, I literally went to help with the lights. Fein went to help with the lights with me. How the fuck did he set this on fire already?" Tek groaned. "Now I have to go grab my backup helmet."
They hear Eleventy, exhaustedly ask, "What are you doing?"
"Hey Elevent-"
"This is why I don't let you help with cooking at all, Feinberg."
Reignex was trying (and failing) to not laugh out loud.
Eleventy facepalmed, "I had to evacuate the kitchen for this. Okay everyone, let's go back."
"Hey aren't you going to help put out the fire?" Tek asked.
"Oh, right." Eleventy walked over, taking out a bucket of water and dumping it on the fire. The helmet looks charred and absolutely unusable. Fulham came over with a second bucket of water and dumped it on top of the helmet for good measure.
"Well hopefully this is the only case of arson today," Switch stated wistfully, coming back with a bucket of water and a few vials of Fire Resistance potions he had brewed earlier, and whisking the bucket into his pocket dimension.
---
Well the tree was mostly decorated, thanks to Smallant, Hary, Marcus, and Geo, and all that is left is the special ornaments, one handcrafted by each HBG member to symbolize themselves.
Well, they were going to put up such ornaments, that was until Raddles (while chasing several of the cats that followed Illumina to the plaza today) knocked down the tree, Illumina nearly being a victim of the tree falling on him.
Something went wrong with the stringed lights, because less than a moment after Illumina gets out from under the fallen tree, it catches on fire.
"Don't look at me," Fyro started, "I was nowhere close to the tree this time."
"... That actually might be my fault this time." Marcus started. "Oops."
Fulham and Switch grabbed their buckets of water and put out the fire. Just like Tek's helmet from earlier, it was burnt to a crisp.
"Well thankfully no one's put any of the ornaments or gifts near the tree," Smallant began. "But what do we do now?"
"Why are we all looking at me?" Geo asked, a bad feeling forming about what the others could be asking.
---
After much convincing (and making the people with a history of accidentally causing arson to be extremely careful), Geo had lended one of his larger cacti to stand in for the Christmas tree. Christmas cactus? Whatever, one of those.
Switch and Draco doused the cactus in enough Fire Resistance potions to last for a month, before Geo was satisfied and stepped away from the cacti (by a little).
Without incident, the cactus was decorated yet again, and HBG all stood around the cactus.
"I feel like, I feel like something's missing ya know," Nerdi started, "Something's missing from this. I don't know what's missing, but something's missing."
Hary grabbed a pair of sunglasses from his pocket, and placed it on the cactus.
Catching his eye, Fruit took out a sign, and Illumina scribbled "11ty" onto the sign. Fruit placed it a block below the sunglasses.
"It looks exactly like Eleventy!" Fruit cheered.
"Ha, ha, very funny guys."
After laughing at how they could just decorate Eleventy for next year (plus several indignant complaints from the cactus man himself), Couri herded everyone to do a group photo, in case "something happens to the cactus".
So everyone crammed themselves to be included in the frame, Illumina riding on Fruit's shoulders, TapL, Couri, and Draco using their wings to hover in the back as several others grabbed their elytras to do the same. Tek peeked up from the bottom of the frame with an older helmet of his, having to fine tune the expression shown on the screen with knobs on the side. Reign tried to vault himself up Fein's back, as Pete supported himself on Kayfour's shoulders.
Everyone grinned largely as the photo was being taken, cheered and dispersed to a large table they'd set up once the photo was done.
The gift exchange began, as fish, paintings, jewelry, paints, hand made cards, and much more were exchanged, each other's love shown in the artfully crafted and selected gifts. Hugs were exchanged, and joy was in the air, as dinner was taken out.
Before everyone dug in, Illumina grabbed everyone's attention.
"B-before we start digging in, I just wanna say," Illumina paused. "Uhhh, I am so grateful for everyone here, and uh. Frick."
Couri and Nerdi just stood up, told Illumina they got this.
"A toast, for everyone here,"
"For friends of new and old,"
"For whatever the new year brings,"
"For the past we've shared,"
"Together,"
"We can face it all,"
"HBG on top!" The two concluded in unison, and everyone yelled it out as well, knowing that with this family, they've got each other's back, with this family, they've found home.
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canary3d-obsessed · 3 years
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Restless Rewatch: The Untamed, Episode 22 part one
(Masterpost) (Other Canary Stuff) (Previous Post)
Warning: Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!
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Not Quite Like Old Times
We ended the previous episode in daylight, with Lan Wangji putting Wei Wuxian and swordpoint and declaring his undying love lecturing him about his lack of sword skills.
We start this episode in full night, with the two of them sitting on a roof together. Presumably they spent the missing scenes getting dinner in the mess hall, doing some laundry, and definitely not making out. Fic writers, do your thing.
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Finally, FINALLY, Lan Wangji has chilled out enough to actually sit and listen to Wei Wuxian, instead of yelling at and/or physically attacking him. The Zoloft is really helping!
Wei Wuxian is indulging in romantic recollections of their first rooftop encounter. Lan Wangji, who has loved him since he first laid eyes on him and who wrote a whole song with an entire music video about their love, featuring that very same rooftop encounter, shuts him down so completely he might as well have whipped out Bichen again.
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First he corrects his description of events by pointing out they were fighting, not talking, back then. Then when Wei Wuxian continues in his charming, smiley reminiscing vein, Lan Wangji says "things change, how could they stay the same" with a deep, sad, weariness.
He seems like an old man in this moment, and I feel for him, really, I do. But he's not the one who's carrying the actual essence of death around inside him. Wei Wuxian is being much more generous in this interaction than Lan Wangji is.
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Wei Wuxian thanks him for not narkng to Jiang Yanli about the whole talisman/forced suicide/ghost hummer/ghost flaying thing he did back in Yiling. Like there is any way Lan Wangji would ever tell Jiang Yanli, of all people, something like that about Wei Wuxian.  He's lying to his own brother to cover for Wei Wuxian, and Wei Wuxian totally doesn't get it.
(more after the cut)
Unfortunately, there's no reason Wei Wuxian SHOULD get it, at this point; Lan Wangji has not communicated anything but disapproval to him since his return, and Wei Wuxian, despite their (apparently temporary) mental linkup in the Turtle cave, is not a mind reader.
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Lan Wangji is so hurt here, and Wei Wuxian appears to ignore that, continuing to smile and laugh; he’s still sunny, still happy. Seriously, they are so tonally out of step with each other in this conversation, it's excruciating.
Lan Wangji: I’m feeling good about my tear-holding-back ability Wei Wuxian: do I look more fuckable sitting up? Or leaning back?  
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But every one of these smiles is an absolute lie. This is Wei Wuxian appeasing an authority figure; baffling with bullshit and skating by on charm. This is not a young man confiding in his soulmate.
Even when the conversation shifts, and they talk seriously about what is going on with him, Wei Wuxian is barely confiding anything. He briefly acknowledges that he was in the Burial Mounds for three months, and shudders at the memory, but Lan Wangji doesn't respond to that other than to look away from his face.
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This is almost the last thing Wei Wuxian will ever say to anyone about that experience.  He only alludes to it again when Jiang Cheng visits the settlement and talks smack about their corpse turnips. Lan Wangji says he wants to know why Wei Wuxian’s cultivation changed, but he really doesn’t; he just wants to convince him to change it back.
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Wei Wuxian explains about using Lan clan techniques to protect his temperament, as well as the flute and talismans, to control the resentful energy. This is a good reminder that Wei Wuxian was never a bad student. He was an outstanding cultivator within the Jiang Clan, and he learned a hell of a lot during his time in Gusu, despite getting expelled for fighting.
His original golden core was stronger than Jiang Cheng's, even though he apparently started cultivating later. Yes, he fell asleep during meditation that one time in Episode 43, but that's not because he's bad at meditating, it's because he was tired from getting railed all night by his boyfriend stabbed in the gut by his nephew.
Lan Wangji eventually manages to ask him a question like an interested fellow human being sharing knowledge, instead of like an authoritarian dick calling him to account.  
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Side note: I still am flopping around trying to find good-sounding English terms for Chinese philosophical concepts. I kind of like "ghost path" vs "sword path" for the two styles of cultivation - I don't know where I saw that, apologies to the translator. I like "necromancy" for the part where the dead are reanimated and controlled, because we definitely have that in English. But there are many layers of nuance in these conversations that English is not equipped to render in a natural-sounding way.
Lan Wangji tells him, again, that it's dangerous, but this time he does it in a gentler and more poetic way, saying it's like taking grain from a burning fire, and says he's in danger of becoming the novel version of Wei Wuxian a demonic cultivator.  Wei Wuxian, also gently and seriously, says he knows.
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Then he immediately goes back to his lightest tone and promises, with his three-fingers gesture, that he will not fall into demonic cultivation. This gesture is basically the Wei Wuxian "I am totally fucking lying" salute.
He is totally fucking lying, and he MUST know it. He's baking the Yin tiger amulet every day during his meditation, getting ready to use it against Wen Ruohan, getting ready to take over his army of the dead.
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He has the audacity to ask Lan Wangji, "do you believe me?" and Lan Wangji, also totally fucking lying, nods.  Their relationship is just as broken right now as it was before their courtyard sparring session.
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You can tell it's broken, because after they've reached this apparent place of peace, Wei Wuxian just hops down off the roof and LEAVES Lan Wangji sitting by himself. When has Wei Wuxian ever been like "gotta go!" with Lan Wangji? The last time they were here, he spent the night sleeping on the roof tiles just so he could be near him.
As he leaves, Lan Wanji stands up and says "let me help you." Wei Wuxian is not a fan of that idea, at all, if his expression is any guide.
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He agrees, though, and leaves smiling, apparently for real, but maybe just practicing for all the fake smiles in his future.
Hooray for War
In the morning, Nie Mingjue makes an angry speech to the 2 dozen cultivators who apparently make up the army. Extras are expensive, y'all.
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The senior cultivators are standing to the right or left of him, with the Lan brothers bracketing the Yunmeng sibs. Lan Wangji and Jiang Cheng are both staking their claim to Wei Wuxian, while Lan Xichen is standing in the spot closest to Nie Mingjue; Nie Huaisang is on the opposite side with the Jins.
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All of the random cultivators yell a war chant in response to Nie Mingjue's speech, while the senior cultivators are like, we don't have to do that yelling stuff, thank goodness.
Nie Mingjue's war outfit includes metal (ish) epaulets on his shoulders and a totally not-kinky belt featuring multiple rings with nothing attached to them (yet) and an angry demon face right above his junk.
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Nie Mingjue says we're going to storm into Nightless city and I'm going to chop off Wen Ruohan's head! By which he means, I'm going to get captured and get my ass beat, and then my murder-babie ex-boyfriend who had this belt specially made for me is going to stab Wen Ruohan in the back while he's distracted. They do say no plan survives contact with the enemy.
Side note: Baxia makes a loud metallic "shnk" noise when NMJ takes it off his back during this speech, even though Baxia does not have a scabbard. You do you, Baxia.
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All the senior cultivators file out down the center while everyone else parts to let them pass. Then everybody does the Electric Slide.
Jiang Cheng tells Wei Wuxian they should go ahead of the main force to get some killing in early, but Wei Wuxian just pulls a face and looks down, staying with Lan Wangji. 
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Jiang Cheng is disappointed, and no doubt takes this as a sign of WWX choosing LWJ over him. But actually, WWX can't fight side-by-side with Jiang Cheng without showing his weakness.
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LWJ and WWX exchange one of their unspoken "let's go" eye touches and get ready to ride out together with the main force. 
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Lan Wangji is still super, super sad. Wei Wuxian is still fake. But something is starting to knit together between them, and once they can hit a battlefield together, it will get a lot stronger.
On A Horse With No Name
Everyone rides out on horses, which will presumably get eaten somewhere along the way, because they appear to travel on foot after this. While Wei Wuxian practices his horseback-flute-twirling, Lan Wangji asks why Wei Wuxian didn't go with the forward force to fight.
Wei Wuxian says that he has a case of the don'wannas, and Lan Wangji snarkily points out that he used to like fighting. Wei Wuxian reacts, just as he did at the end of their sword fight, with embarrassment, and doesn't answer.
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Lan Wangji, sweetie. You are really not helping. 
At this point, despite their ongoing fighting, Wangxian are clearly together again. Lan Wangji isn't riding with his brother; he's RIGHT next to Wei Wuxian, and will stay close to him through the rest of the campaign.
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Nie Huaisang hollers "Wei-Xiong" from the top of the battlements and tells him to take care. Wei-Xiong lifts his flute in acknowledgement while Nie Huaisang looks worried. He doesn't tell Nie Mingjue or Lan Wangji to take care, just Wei Wuxian. Wei Wuxian is his particular friend, more than Lan Wangji is, but he may also be concerned because he can tell that Wei Wuxian isn't well.
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Nie Huaisang hasn't yet developed the deep cynicism that he calls upon in his quest to avenge his brother, but he has always been a voracious collector of information, and he is keenly observant.
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Side note: what the fuck is going on with this sculpture? Kudos to the artist. This has beautiful forms, and is weird and disturbing. The main head is wearing a horned skull on its forehead, small ungulates that I hesitate to call “deer” chilling on its horns, and...snakes? biting its ears? 
Boring Wen Interlude
Wen Ruohan is waving his hands around. Sigh. This is one of the more boring villain performances ever, and it's not the actor’s fault. They could have given him a sidekick to yell at or something, so we could get more than just hand waving. I’ve given up screen capping any of this; there are more interesting things to look at. 
Battle Moves
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Jin Zixuan and Jiang Cheng and their forces have an extended fight scene with a bunch of puppet dudes and stuntmen in harnesses. 
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It's pretty fun to watch. (Fanvid with more over here)
The gist of the fighting scenes is that Wen Ruohan is getting stronger, and Klingons are hard to beat.
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Battle Planning
Finally we see a sidekick with Wen Ruohan, although he's blurry so it's hard to tell that he is totally Meng Yao.
The Sunshotters have set up a Battle Camp Playset. It's got chunks of gates and walls that don't connect to anything, like a Duplo set. It's just randomly open for most of the back area so that anyone can walk in. 
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They've got a cage of hilarious definitely-not-zombies set up, and the rest of the wounded cultivators are lying on the ground. 
The main battle trio go chill in Nie Mingjue's incredibly fancy tent. They talk it over and say it's impossible to kill unkillable enemies, "even when we have millions of troops." And by “millions” they mean “dozens.”  
Nie Mingjue decides the way to handle it is to kill the leader and everyone else will collapse, because he has watched vampire movies and the last season of Game of Thrones and that's how it works. Watching the last season of Game of Thrones is why he is so angry all the time  He says he's going to sneak into Nightless City and assassinate Wen Ruohan.
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Okay, first of all, Nie Mingjue can sneak? I don't believe it.  Second of all, if that was possible, why didn't he do it as soon as Wen Ruohan attacked his clan?
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Nie Mingjue wants to take the biggest risk because he's the commander in chief, which is not how commanding is supposed to work, but okay.
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He says if he dies, Zewu Jun will take over. Jiang Cheng starts to protest but Zewu Jun appears as if conjured, and shows them a map that will...dear GOD his hands are beautiful.
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It's a helpful map, painted in multiple colors with careful writing on it, so if anyone were to show it to Nie Huaisang he would probably go "oh cool Meng Yao painted that" because anyone who could paint that well probably spent a fair amount of time at it on a regular basis. But, Nie Huaisang isn't here so, nope.
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It’s always nice to see Jiang Cheng smile.
Wei Wuxian and Lan Waniji examine some of the puppets to see what's up. It's transmitted by touch, and Lan Wangji says that curing one dude takes three months of spiritual power. Ain’t nobody got time for that.
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Writing Prompt: Missing scene! How did they get from the fight in the courtyard to the talk on the roof? 
Soundtrack: 1. Shine on You Crazy Diamond, by Pink Floyd 2. Electric Boogie, by Marcia Griffiths
218 notes · View notes
yourstarvic · 3 years
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It was now morning as you sat up from the bed, stetting your arms over your head with a relaxing sigh. You looked around the room and saw Yuna still sleeping on the other bed that was provided. Maneuvering your body to sit on the edge of the bed, you grabbed your phone to check the time. Seeing it was 3 hours until practice started, you stood up and did a final stretch. 
You then did your morning routine. Using the restroom, washing your hands, your face, and your teeth. Once you were done in the restroom, you exited it and went to your bag to grab your clothes for the day. Once you were done changing, you turned to face Yuna’s side and notice she was still sleeping.
Walking over to Yuna’s side of the room, you gently shook her as you whispered, “Wake up Yuna, it’s time to get up.”
Yuna let out a groan as she hugged the blankets tighter around her. Letting out a deep sigh, you tried again, “Come on Yuna. We need to get ready for practice and eat breakfast.”
“Fine,” She huffed, tossing the blanket aside in a grumpy manner. You took a step back, watching her with a hidden annoyed expression. You watched her walk to the provided bathroom in the room, hearing her huff. But as she was walking, your annoyed expression turned into realization as you saw a spot on her pants.
Thinking nothing of it, you then grabbed everything you need for practice and started to head out of the door say, “I’m going now, Yuna!”
Hearing the toilet flush in response, you took that was her response as you exited the room and headed to the cafeteria. But before you took a step, you saw Sara and Yui coming out of the room next to you. “Good morning!” You waved, walking over to them
“Good morning!” They both responded with a smile, “Is Yuna not joining breakfast?”
“I just woke her up,” You sighed, “let’s hope she’ll help today.”
“Agreed,” they both said as they both link arms with you and walked to the cafeteria. 
The three of you walked with linked arms and laughing at whatever joke was being said. Shortly after the three of you arrived, you went to grab your breakfast the school’s chef prepared. Grabbing your tray, the three of you went to the kitchen window to receive the plates filled with food.
Each of you thanked the chef when you grabbed the plates and placed them on the tray. Walking to an empty table, you saw few people were already eating. You smiled at Kita and Aran who were already sitting down and eating.
Sitting at an empty table, Sara and Yui on one side and you across from them, you started to eat and have a conversation. A few moments later, Sakusa joined the group, sitting next to you, saying, “Good morning.”
“Good morning,” The three of you respond cheerfully. 
“Can I sit here?” Komori asked, pointing to the empty seat next to Sara.
“O-Of course,” Sara stuttered with bright red cheeks.
You raised an eyebrow at her, looking Yui in an excited and confused look. Yui gave you an excited smile, conforming to what you were thinking.
I knew it! She does like him!
Komori then sat down, and the four of you started to have a conversation. The cafeteria soon started to be filled with volleyball members. The tables started to be filled with people as they sat down and started to eat their breakfast. The cafeteria had a nice and peaceful atmosphere as everyone ate, talking quietly since they didn’t want to disturb anyone around them. Until…
“Honey bunny!” Yuna squealed loudly, alerting everyone of her presence, as she tugged on Osamu’s arm, “Hurry up! You need to eat breakfast to give you engird for the day!”
“Why is she so loud,” You heard a voice moving to sit in the empty seat next to you.“I just want to enjoy my breakfast in peace.”
“Good morning Rin,” you smiled at him, “but she won’t be that loud when she eats.”
“You’ll be surprised,” Sakusa said, standing up, “I’m going on ahead, I don’t want my morning ruined with her voice.”
Everyone at the table muttered a farewell as they watched Sakusa placed his tray and plates in a designated place. Seeing him walking past Osamu and Yuna, they both greeted him, but Sakusa only responded to Osamu with a “Good morning Miya.” But Yuna took it another way.
“Did you hear that, sweet honey!” Yuna squealed, “He also called me Miya! It’s like we’re married.”
Osamu made an annoyed look, trying to make Yuna let go of him. You and the others at the table smile in amusement. Looking away, Sara and Komori continued their conversation, with Yui and you occasionally making comments about why Sara’s face is red. Suna just silently ate his breakfast, not saying a word as he observed what was happening.
Once everyone was done eating, everyone then went to the gym to start practice. Around the gym were the four schools in their respective groups. Some were talking, when others were doing stretches. 
“All right,” Kita gained the team’s attention, seeing everyone was here, “let’s start on our group stretches before the coaches come in.”
As the boys made a circle, with Kita in middle leading the stretches, you walked over to the sideline. You sat on the bench, next to Yuna, as you opened your notebook and getting ready to take notes for practice. 
In the corner of your eye, you saw Yuna wincing and holding onto her lower stomach. Understanding what she was feeling, you went into your bag and grab two things from there. Handing them to Yuna, you told her, “Here, this should help.”
“I’m fine,” Yuna glared at you, “I don’t need it.”
“You’re in pain,” you offered her the items again, “the banana will help as well as the pills. It’s going to be a long practice and you’re in pain.”
Giving you a final look, Yuna hesitantly took both muttered, “Thank you.”
Giving her a nod, you looked back at the boys saying, “It’s best to the banana first. I noticed you didn’t eat that much during breakfast.”
Yuna did was you told her, eating the banana first and then taking the pills to help with her cramps. Handing you back the pill bottle, you placed it in your bag. There was an awkward silence between the two as you watched the boys stretching.
“Why did you do that?” Yuna asked, breaking the silence.
“Do what?” You said, giving her a curious look.
“The banana and the pill,” she scoffed, “why did you give me those.”
“You were in pain,” you shrugged.
“Why does that matter to you?” Yuna glared at you, “You hate me and I hate you. You didn’t-shouldn’t have done that.”
“Just because we hate each other doesn’t me I have to be a terrible person,” you looked back at the group. “You were in pain and I’m not going to let you suffer.”
Before Yuna could respond, the coaches arrived, signing everyone to surround them. All the teams stopped their stretching and went to the coaches, surrounding them. Once everyone was surrounded, one of the coaches started to instruct them what will happen today. And with that, the practice was then started.
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“Come on Miya,” you said as you two walked to a corner in the gym. “Everyone is gone and you need to say you’re sorry.”
“I will,” Osamu sighed, scrunching over as he followed you. 
“Also,” you turned to face him, “you still haven't answered my question.”
“What question,” Osamu said, leaning against the wall as he curiously looked at you.
“From last night,” you said, grabbing your phone from your pocket, “why are you with Yuna?”
“Oh,” Osamu blinked, “that question.”
“Yeah,” you rolled your eyes, “that question. Are you going to answer it?”
“Fine,” the grey hair male sighed, “just don’t tell Suna or Atsumu.”
“I can’t promise anything.”
Osamu glared at you but you raised an eyebrow at him, waiting for an answer as stared at him. “I’m waiting,” you broke the silence.
“I started to date her because,” Osamu gulped, avoiding your eyes.
“You started to date her because…”
“I started to date her because um,” Osamu said, trying to figure out what to say.
“Because of what Samu?” You heard a voice said behind you. 
Both you and Osamu turned to face the voice. Seeing it was Suna, his hands in his pants as pockets as he slouched over the both of you with a plain look. “Are you going to answer it?” Suna looked at Osamu, “I’m curious as well.”
“W-Well,” Osamu gulped, pointed at you and Suna, “what about you two! Why are you two dating?”
“That doesn’t matter,” you said quickly, “I asked your first.”
“And I’ve been asking!” Osamu said back, pointing to Suna, “I’ve been wondering why you two are dating. He’s been saying I’m in love with you and thinks we should be together! But then he goes out with you!”
“That’s because I realized my feelings for her,” Suna said with boredom, “so what’s your reason with Yuna?”
“Y-You realized your feelings with her?” Osamu said slowly, blinking his eyes repeatedly, looking away.
“You have feelings for me?” You whispered to Suna, looking at him with shock. 
Suna shrugged his shoulders at you, letting out a weak, “Eh,” as a response. You rolled your eyes at him and looked at Osamu, questioning him again, “Are you going to answer?”
“Y-Yeah,” Osamu swallowed, looking at you in the eye, “I’m dating her because… Because when Suna told me you were going on a date I got jealous.
“What?” 
“Oh shit.”
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MASTERPOST-PREV-NEXT
Notes: Hi guys!! Thank you guys so much for over 200 notes on the master list!!! THANK YOU! Sorry if I haven't been updating that much! School started up back again so I might not post that much but I promise I will try! I love y'all! Drink water and stay warm!
TAGLIST: @thelochtessmonster99​ @freaksnque​ @bloody-bella​ @girlyluke​ @tendo-sxtori​ @angels17324​ @madmelle​ @tiktikty-tokity-spagetti​ @helloalex80​ @fandomatakeover18​ @mus1caln0tes​ @kac-chowsballs​ @satoriluver​ @bestboy-daydreams​ @hi-im-a-bat​ @circusjanreblogs​ @420-uwu​
173 notes · View notes
hoodharlow · 3 years
Text
Como Antes
AN: So I'm gonna include this in the El Novio Quarantine Edition masterpost, so y'all don't confused with original El Cumpleañero on the actual El Novio masterpost. Also to shout out to @findingliam-o and her y/n-esque dreams that brought this baby back to existence.
Requested: by steph i guess lol, ilysm bby
Warnings: smut, brief angst and mentions of shitty boyfriend that gave out baby Claudia shit for not being a virgin
Word Count: 3.6k words
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Claudia’s finger followed the words on the computer screen as she wrote down the quote she was going to use for her paper. She hated reading off PDFs because it made her eyes tired. She liked having physical copies of her assigned readings because she paid more attention to what was being said and she could write in the margins little annotations. The book she needed was at Calum’s house and there was no way in hell she was going to go back to his place after what Ashton said.
Calum had called and texted her nonstop, but she ignored him. She was just embarrassed that she acted like a coward. She should have stood her ground and told Ashton he was wrong about her. But she didn’t.
Even Michael and Sierra called her to check in on her after hearing through Luke that something happened between her and Ashton. Claudia ignored her too and the past week she acted like they didn’t exist. She just wanted the ground to swallow her whole and make Calum forget about her existence.
Frustrated with the reading she got up from her desk chair and went to the kitchen to get a snack. She grabbed a juice box and reheated some noodles she ordered the other day.
The house was surprisingly quiet. Her housemates went out to some frat party Ale's brother was throwing. They invited Claudia, but she wasn't in the mood to go. After getting home from Calum's, she cried at how stupid Ashton made her feel. They comforted her, reminding her that Calum knew her and that Ashton is a jerk that doesn’t know her.
She dumped her noodles on a plate and soaked the pan. She took her plate and went back to her room. Claudia knew she wasn't going to get her work done that night, so she pulled up Netflix. She stumbled on a show about three women robbing a grocery store because one of them had a daughter with a bad kidney and another was about to lose her house because her husband was a cheating piece of shit. While the other is just a mess working a minimum wage job.
Claudia was deep in IMDB trying to figure out where she saw the mistress, when she heard the doorbell. She paused the show and made her way to the front door. She peeked through the window sills and saw Ariel red hair.
Ashton.
She rolled her eyes and went to open the door.
"What do you want?" She deadpanned when she opened the door. She reached for a blanket and stepped outside.
"Hello to you too." Ashton sassed.
"What do you want?" Claudia repeated.
"I came to apologize. Calum hasn't talked to me in days and— why are you rolling your eyes?"
"Because you're full of shit. You're only here so you can go back to Cal and tell him you apologized so he can talk to you again. You only care about making yourself feel good after you stuck your nose where it's not supposed to be."
"Claudia,"
"Oh now it's Claudia. I was really starting to think my name was radio girl."
"You're really making it hard to apologize."
"I'm not. I'm just saying that just how you didn't give a fuck about my feelings when you told Cal that I'm only with him to catch some dick, I don't care about yours. If you came to apologize then do it."
Ashton was quiet. Claudia scoffed and turned back to go inside.
"Claudia, I'm sorry," He began. She turned back and leaned against the door frame. "It was shitty of me to say that about you. You're right, it wasn't my place to tell Cal that. In addition I shouldn't assume your sexual history."
"More like a lack of sexual history." Claudia mumbled out loud. Her eyes widened upon realizing she said that out loud.
"Oh you're a…"
"Yeah."
"Well, now I feel like an even bigger asshole." Ashton said. He scratched the back of his neck.
They both stood quietly, looking down at the ground.
"Um Cal didn't want a party for his birthday this year. Apparently, he has plans in the evening. So Sierra and I reserved a room at this restaurant for brunch. It's just gonna be the guys and Sierra. KayKay is still out of town and Crystal is working an event or something. I'm sure Cal would be happy to see you."
"I'll think about it."
***
Calum pulled out his keys from the ignition, yawning. Only Ashton and Sierra would plan to do something in the morning. Granted it was almost eleven, but with the lack of sleep Calum was going through, it was too early for him. Not to mention he didn't want to go. He was still pissed at Ashton for making things awkward with Claudia. Sierra reassured him that that was resolved and that he should go.
He grabbed his leather jacket and stepped out of the car. He shoved his hands in his pockets, surprised at how cold it was even with the bright sun out. When he walked in the place, he heard Ashton's hearty laugh followed by Luke and Michael's giggles, letting him know he went to the right place. He followed the hostess to a room in the back.
"About time you showed up." Sierra said, making Claudia look up from her phone.
She softly smiled at him. Michael pulled Calum into a hug, bringing him back to reality. Luke and Sierra hugged him as well and wished him a happy birthday.
Ashton got up and pulled him away from the table. He ran his hand through his red hair and cleared his throat.
"Claudia and I had a talk a few days ago." Ashton said.
"So I heard." Calum nodded.
"I apologized to her and we're good. But I want to apologize to you too." Ashton looked behind Calum's shoulder watching Claudia pose with Sierra as Luke took pictures of them. "I'm sorry for not trusting your judgment. You were right. Claudia's a good person with even greater intentions."
"Well, I wasn't expecting that." Calum awkwardly chuckled. "Uh, apology accepted I guess."
"One question though."
"What's up?"
"Why haven't you asked her out? It's fucking obvious to the world and their dog that both of you have feelings for each other."
"She broke up with her boyfriend a few months ago. I don't wanna ask her out and potentially fuck up a good friendship."
Ashton thought back to what Claudia accidentally told him so he just nodded and said. "You'll know when the right time is."
They went back to the table. Calum pulled Claudia to a hug when he sat next to her.
"Wasn't expecting to see you here." He said, placing his arm on the back of her chair.
"Ashton convinced men with free food."
"I did what?" Ashton asked, confused.
"Yeah, you offered to pay for my food too." Michael called out while sipping his mimosa.
The brunch went by smoothly. By the end their server came by with a red velvet cake Claudia made. She showed up early and asked the manager if they could hold the cake while they ate.
Calum offered to walk Claudia back to her car since she parked the furthest. She held onto his arm cold from the breeze that blew. She knew she should have worn a jacket over her turtleneck.
"What are you doing later?" Calum asked her.
"Nothing, probably watch some tv." She said, rummaging through her bag for her keys.
"Wanna go to a concert? Management managed to get me some tickets to see Bad Bunny and since you got me into him I want to take you."
"You got tickets? I've been trying to get some for weeks."
"So that's a yes?"
"Oh my god yes!" She wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you!"
They talked a bit, mostly planning out the night. Calum was picking her up a bit early so they could eat something beforehand because concessions are always a mess. As they discussed what they wanted to eat, a black Mercedes parked in front of Claudia's car, leaving her no room to get out.
"No mames," she cursed as the driver of the Benz walked past them. She smiled sweetly at Calum. "Can you pull out?"
"Pull out?" He blinked, confused.
"Like can you get my car out of the parking spot." she explained. "It's too snug for me."
"How did you even get your licence?" He asked her while taking her keys.
"I wore some shorts and a halter top." She gestured over her outfit. "You think a turtleneck and some jeans would have done the job?"
Calum shamelessly scanned her up and down, keeping his eyes on her ass for an extra second. He looked over to her and smiled. "It does the job for me."
***
"Here," Calum said, handing Claudia a flannel he had in his car. "I have a hoodie if you want."
"I'll take the flannel. You don't wear hoodies to a Bad Bunny concert." She said. She let one of the sleeves fall off her shoulder. "Also you're not getting this back. This is now my flannel."
"Oi! That's my favorite flannel."
"That's too bad." Claudia smiled as she fluffed her hair and tugged down her dress. She noticed Calum checking her out as she fixed her outfit on the car door's reflection.
"Ready?" He asked her. She nodded her response.
The arena parking lot was surprisingly packed despite the doors opening in two more hours. Calum and Claudia walked hand in hand, not wanting to get separated from each other. They went over to the line at the taco truck.
Claudia stood in front of him while they waited. He wrapped his arms around her and rested his chin on top of her head. She relaxed a bit. She wasn't used to all the touching, but she didn't mind it. Calum made her feel safe and comfortable. He didn't do anything that made her feel like he wanted more from her.
It was finally their turn to order. Calum ordered a loaded quesadilla and beer. Before Claudia even processed he was ordering her five tacos de carne asada with the toppings on the side and agua de horchata. He paid the cashier and tugged her towards a free table.
"How did you know my order?" Claudia asked, reaching for his beer and taking a sip.
"We've hung out enough times for me to remember." He shrugged. He took back his beer and drank some. "There weren't carne asada fries on the menu, and you usually order tacos when they're not listed. Plus you've said that carne asada tacos are your safest bet at a taco truck."
"Oh." Claudia quietly said, playing with the wrapper of her straw.
She felt her cheeks warm up. Someone remembering the little things about her always got to her. It made her feel seen. Especially if that someone is Calum. He's an international rockstar that knows hundreds of people and he managed to remember her taco order.
The server came by their table and dropped off their basket of food. They pointed at the salsa station that had seven different types of salsas, limes, radishes, and pickled jalapeños with carrots. Claudia got up to get salsa while Calum stayed behind with their food. He watched her look disinterested at whatever the guy that was hogging the station was telling her.
"Hey, love," Calum called out to Claudia. He held up her phone in the air. "Your mum's calling."
She walked over to him and pretended to answer the phone. "Thank you,'' she whispered.
"What salsas do you want?" he asked.
"There's a creamy green one and the one that looks like regular salsa verde." she said, nodding along to her fake phone call.
Calum squeezed her hand and went to the salsa station. The guy that was trying to talk to Claudia was already talking to another girl.
"Excuse me." he said, wedging himself between them to get to the salsas.
He returned to his table. Claudia was on her phone, frowning.
"What's wrong?" He asked, handing her the salsas.
"Danny's here and he didn't even tell me he was coming up."
"Here as in LA or…"
"He's literally here eating Korean tacos on the other side." She sighed. She bit into her taco and chewed. Covering her mouth, she said. "It's fine though. No one is fucking this night up."
***
The concert went by quickly. They ran into some of Calum's fans and he took some pictures with them. He traded the group their tickets for the box tickets management got him. They wanted to enjoy the actual concert and not get distracted with all the other activities that were the private room.
"I had fun tonight, thank you for inviting me." Claudia told Calum when they got in his car.
"There's no one I would have rather spent the night with." He said shyly.
They both let out nervous giggles. Claudia smiled softly at him and took in his scent. It is a bright and woody cologne mixed with beer someone accidentally spilled on him. It was a comforting scent, as if she was at home. She looked up at Calum, and he glanced down to her lips.
He met her eyes and pushed back some of her curls before cupping her face with one hand. He leaned and pulled her for a quick kiss. As he pulled away, Claudia pulled him back and deepened the kiss.
Without breaking their kiss, she climbed to his lap and cupped his face. Her dress rode up to her waist. Claudia sighed into Calum's lips, feeling his hands slide up her thighs to her ass. She moaned out loudly as he squeezed her ass.
She pulled away and kissed down his neck, nipping and sucking. One of her hands wandered down to his belt. In one swift moment she unbuckled his belt and undid the buttons. Before she went further, Calum's hand pushed hers away.
"As much as I want to, I don't want our first time in my car." He groaned.
But Claudia only heard 'first time.'
"Did Ashton say something?" She asked him. The last thing she wanted was for him to find out that she was a virgin through his best friend.
"What does Ash have to do with this?"
"Nothing, I'm just confused why we stopped."
"Trust me I didn't want to. But I don't want a quickie in my car to be your first impression of me."
"Oh," she said, relieved.
"Yeah…"
"Good thing you live twenty minutes away. Maybe you can impress me there." She whispered, kissing his jaw.
"Wait seriously? You want to go back to my place?"
"Yeah." She sat back in her seat and pulled down her dress. Quickly noticing that they'll be stuck in the parking lot for a while, she turned back to him. "Maybe I can impress you with my mouth while we wait to leave?"
"You mean like a—"
"A blowjob? Yes."
“I’m not one to turn down a blowie.”
***
Calum had Claudia pressed against the door. Their tongues battled to see who got the upper hand. He grabbed the back of her thighs and effortlessly picked her up. He carefully carried her up to his bedroom. There once again he backed her up against the door
She pulled away and slipped off her flannel. Claudia helped him unbutton his shirt and helped him out of the ever present black tank top he wore under it. She slid her hands over his chest and up to his face. She couldn’t believe he was in front of her.
More kisses led them to the bed. The last few layers of clothes shed as they got reacquainted with their bodies.
“Can I have a taste?” Calum whispered in her ear. Claudia looked up at him with an unreadable expression. “I don’t have to, of course. Whatever we do is up to you. If you just want to make out then we’ll just make out. But if you want to have sex, fine by me. I want you to know that you’re not obligated to do anything. We can stop and just act like—”
“Go for it.” she said, stopping him from rambling.
“Wait, seriously?” His face lit up.
“Yes.” she softly giggled.
Claudia wrapped her arms around him as she deepened the kiss. She let out a soft whine when Calum pulled away. She watched him kiss her body as he made his way down.
He looked up at her when he reached her dripping core. “Ready?” he asked.
“Yeah…”
Calum placed her legs over his shoulders and gently kissed thighs purposely ignoring where she wanted him the most.
His fingers grazed her entrance, coating them with her arousal. He licked his fingers and continued to tease her. He smirked as her breathing quickened, and her soft pleas filled the room. He finally laid on his stomach and began to kiss the inside of her thighs before placing them over
his shoulders.
"Fuck." He moaned once he tasted her.
His tongue worked its wonders on Claudia. She never felt so desired. She was on edge minutes later. One of her hands
wrapped around his fresh blonde curls while the other tugged one of her breasts.
"Cal, please,” she begged.
“Gonna you use my fingers now okay?” he said.
“Just be gentle.” She said, stopping him from rambling.
“Of course.”
He kissed her thigh reassuringly. He made a show, licking his middle and ring fingers and making Claudia needy for him. Calum slid his fingers in her. He looked up and saw Claudia’s face contorted in pain.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No… a little, but it’s okay. You’re good, honest.” Claudia sait putting his mind at ease.
Calum nodded and buried his face between her thighs. He slipped his fingers inside of her once more. She squirmed at how he was thrusting his fingers in her. Then he added his thumb and slowly rubbed her clit, bringing her to her orgasm. He continued licking and thrusting his fingers into her as she came.
The tight grip on his hair loosened. Claudia sighed as Calum pulled his fingers out of her. He licked them clean and laid next to her. He turned to his side just as she did. He pushed back her curls and laid his hand on her cheek.
“I didn’t hurt you earlier, right?” He asked her softly.
“No, it kinda caught me off guard since no one’s ever done that. Overall A+.” she commented, earning a snort from him.
Calum gently pushed back and reclaimed her lips. They kissed for what seemed like forever. Not wanting her lips off away from him, he awkwardly reached over and patted around the nightstand, looking for the drawer. He pulled it out too hard and the drawer fell along with all of its content.
“Smooth.” Claudia teased.
“Shut up.” he bent down and opened the box of condoms, taking one out.
Claudia watched Calum slide the condom on himself before he got on top of her. He leaned down and captured her lips. They kissed for a while with some touches here and there.
“Calum, please do something.” Claudia whined. She reached for him and slowly pumped him.
“Eager are we, pretty girl.” He teased her. He lined himself up against her.
“Just want to get this over with.” she mumbled out loud. She cursed. “I didn’t mean like that…”
“Then how did you?”Calum got up and grabbed his boxers. “You just don’t tell someone you’re about to hook up with that you wanna get it over with, Claudia.”
“You do when it’s your first time.” She said quietly, wrapping Calum’s bed sheet around her.
Calum stood silent, processing what she said. His mind went over the little comments they said here and there throughout. Then it finally hit him.
“Claudia, are you a virgin?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes it does. It makes a—”
“What, you don’t fuck virgins either?”
“What— Can we just talk about this?”
“What is there to talk about? You’re just like Paco; you want nothing to do with me because I’m a virgin.” Claudia met Calum’s eyes, hurt filled his soft brown eyes. She looked down, embarrassed at herself.
Calum is nothing like Paco.
“I’m sorry. It just all happened so quickly and I freaked out. You’re nothing like Paco, you actually like going down on me.” she added the last bit to lighten up the mood.
Calum sat next to her on the bed. He watched her pull the sheet tighter around her. She sniffled and wiped a few tears away from her cheek.
“Claudia, what really happened between you and your ex?” He asked her gently, not wanting her to feel obligated to share.
“Isn’t it obvious?” she laughed dryly. “He dumped my ass because I never put out.”
“He’s a selfish idiot.” Calum said. He pushed back some of her hair and kissed her forehead. “I’m sorry if I pressured you into something you aren’t ready for.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong. I’m sorry for not telling you that I was a virgin. I was scared that I was gonna push you away or that I’d make things awkward between us if you knew… wait I just did the latter.”
Calum snorted. He wrapped his arm around her shoulder and kissed her head once more. He scratched her scalp when she laid her head on his shoulder.
“Not to one up your awkwardness but Duke has been in the room the whole time.”
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malewifegradyruewen · 3 years
Text
An Untitled Original Work, Part 9
significantly shorter sorry about that BUT! y'all are gonna both love and hate me-
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trigger warnings: swearing, death mention, light violence mention, ask to tag
word count: 1353
tagging: @fire-sapphics @damischs @zoyyanazyalensky @love-pyramus @silver-war @pencilwritesshiz47 @tiergan-andrin-alenefar @mermistahawk @dirty-racoon @ttechnobladee @enbies-and-felonies @sophia-not-sofie @imaramennoodle @littlemisscupcake @cadence-talle @knifescythe @anaccidentwaitingtohappen @completekeefitztrash and lmk know if you wanna be added/removed!!
Sammie couldn’t believe what had just happened. Had she really just kissed Gina Weathers? How could she do that, when she didn’t know where her own heart lied? Didn’t know who had the key, and how to find them?
She hadn’t planned, it had just happened, and while she didn’t regret it, she wished it hadn’t happened. Her heart was confused, which made her stomach do flips and her head pound. It was unbearable, the way the mental confusion affected her physically, so that as her heart hurt, her body ached too.
Why, why, why had she done that? She liked Gina, sure, but she liked Logan too. And Gina’s adamant stance against Logan only added to Sammie’s confusion. What was up with that? Logan seemed genuinely nice, but so did Gina. What was the history? She needed to know before her stomach got any worse. She already felt like she might vomit.
hey just curious what’s up with you and Gina? we were talking and she acted super weird when i mentioned that you and i talk in english class
She sat down on her bed, looking up at the barren ceiling. If only she knew which box she’d packed her fairy lights and garlands in, she could start decorating her room. Then again, if her clothes were barely unpacked, what was the point in embellishing it?
She felt her phone vibrate in her lap, and she picked it up to see what Logan had said.
it’s complicated
how so? Sammie shot back.
it’s a lot. better if we call
okay you call me
Sammie’s phone rang a moment later, the caller id showing the picture she’d taken during English earlier that week. She accepted the call, and put the phone up to her ear. “Hey, what’s up?”
“Hey girl,” Logan said, her voice muffled through the phone. “Shut up, I’m on the phone!”
“Is your brother being annoying?”
“He’s never not. Okay, so you want the tea on me and Gina, right?”
“Yeah, if you don’t mind telling me,” Sammie said, checking the time. 4:37, meaning her mom wouldn’t be home for a while. Sammie wouldn’t be interrupted if she started wandering the house as one does when they’re on the phone.
“Okay, so you know how middle school sucks? That’s when this happened. It was like, fall of seventh grade and I invited Gina over for a sleepover. We were like, best friends when we were little. My mom has some pictures of me and Gina when we were little, and they’re pretty cute. But anyways, seventh grade. She’s at my house and we’re talking about crushes, and I say I have a crush on Benji, and she gets all mad and says he’s hers.”
“Huh. Okay, keep going.”
“Yeah, so I drop it, and I assume she’s gonna let it go, but she gets pissed, like really pissed. So on Monday she starts spreading rumours that I wet the bed at our sleepover, and I’m gross and I bully her and force her to be my friend. So I just stop talking to her, plain and simple. Then she got all mad and now she hates me. Worked out fine for me, because Benji and I have been dating since right after eighth grade.”
Sammie didn’t know what to say. She’d meandered from her bedroom to the kitchen and was now sitting on the kitchen counter, unsure of what to say. Gina had done that? Were they talking about the same Gina?
“What?” she said. The confusion she’d hoped to abolish through this phone call had only grown.
“Weird, right? Bet she makes it out to be all my fault.”
“Actually,” Sammie said as she slid a bagel into the toaster, “she always avoids talking about it. It’s kinda weird, but I didn’t wanna ask anyone else in the group ‘cause that seemed… weird.”
“Well, it was just between me and her, but she dragged everyone else into it.” Sammie could hear the annoyance and hurt in Logan’s voice. She was trying to hide it, Sammie could tell, but she wasn’t doing a very good job.
“You guys used to be close, right?” Sammie asked, grabbing a jar of jam from the fridge.
“Yeah, we were besties all through elementary school, and all of sixth grade. That’s why this was so weird, because she’d never done anything like that before.”
“Really? That doesn’t seem like Gina at all.” The longer she and Logan talked, the more confused Sammie became. She finished spreading jam on her bagel and took a bite before adding, “She made it seem like you guys had only been classmates, never friends. Like, you were always in the same class but you never hung out.”
“Really.” It wasn’t a question, but Sammie could tell Logan wanted to ask something.
“It always felt weird though. She was avoiding the conversation,” Sammie continued. “I dunno. Felt like she was trying to hide something more.”
“Sounds just like her,” Logan replied, the disdain in her voice leaking through the phone. “Always was one to bury her secrets.”
“What’s that mean?” she asked as she took another bite of her bagel.
“She hasn’t told you? Her mom died right before we started highschool. It was a shock too, a car accident. So my family went to the funeral, because there was a huge turnout and more than half the school was there. And like, I get it, if my mom died I’d be distraught too, but when she saw me she tried to punch me, and I had to leave. It was kinda fucked up.”
Sammie stopped chewing. There were a thousand questions in her head, but she couldn’t put words to any of them. They rattled around in her brain for what felt like a year, but was truly only a few seconds. Finally, she was able to ask, “Why?”
“Dunno.” Sammie could hear Logan’s shrug through the phone. “She just saw me and got mad. On the one hand, she wasn’t thinking clearly, because who would be after their mom died, but on the other hand, it seemed uncalled for.”
“Yeah,” she agreed. “But like, you didn’t provoke her? Say anything rude?”
“I’m hurt,” Logan said, sarcastically. “But no, I hadn’t even said ‘sorry for your loss’ before she looked at me and got pissed and tried to punch me. To be honest, I’m still not sure why.”
“That’s… weird.”
“Not who you thought she was, huh?” Logan seemed almost smug. “Makes you think twice. Don’t worry though, you can still hang out with her because I, unlike some people, don’t try to police who my friends hang out with. I might not like it, but I don’t try to dictate friendships.”
“I honestly don’t know what to say,” Sammie admitted after a moment.
“Look, dinner’s almost ready, so I gotta go in just a minute, but let me tell you one thing. There’s more to Gina Weathers than you thought. You can stay friends with her, because we’ve all made mistakes, and you shouldn’t get mad because of things she did to other people. Just…” Logan sighed. “Take everything she says about me with a grain of salt, okay?”
Sammie nodded before realising Logan couldn’t see her. “Yeah, I can do that. Thanks, Logan. Are we still on for next Saturday?”
“Yeah, and Ellison might stop over if you’re cool with that.”
“Not totally sure who that is, but yeah, I’m cool with that.”
“Awesome, see you tomorrow! Bye!” And with that, Logan hung up the phone.
Sammie sat in silence on the kitchen counter, the remaining third of her bagel getting cold. What more could she say, could she do? After kissing Gina and her conversation with Logan, she wasn’t sure how she could face Gina on Monday.
Even after moving five times and attending five different schools, Sammie could safely say she’d never been drawn into the drama so quickly. It had only been a week, but she could tell that her last two years of highschool would be the most noteworthy of all.
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