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jjmaybud · 3 years

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two of the same | kiara carrera

summary: it’s your and kiara’s wedding day and there’s a surprise waiting at the end of the aisle.

pairing(s): kiara carrera x fem!reader

word count: 1.6k

warning(s): fluff, swearing, alcohol use.

author’s note: every two hundred days I post an imagine. this sucks but its been a work in progress in my drafts for like seven months and I just wanted it out there.

For as long as you could remember, Kiara and you have been on the same wavelength. You had met when you both were fourteen and trying to save turtles from the seagulls loitering on the beach. You were a pogue, but you kept to yourself most of the time until the day you both were out on the beach swinging thick sticks at any bird that tried to take your sea turtles. After that, you became inseparable. Sometimes you would finish each other’s sentences—the pogues gagged every time. You could look at Kiara, and she would know what you were thinking like the time you didn’t have enough money for some Mike and Ike’s at the gas station. Once Kiara caught your eye, she distracted the store owner so you could sneak out with a box or two. There were times when you didn’t even have to look at her. She knew what was going in your head, and you knew what was going on in hers. Anytime your mood changed, anytime you didn’t feel like you were enough, she knew how to approach each scenario with what you needed.

And when you started developing feelings for her, you didn’t even have to tell her. You did, though. It was the only time you felt like you needed to express in words rather than the connection you shared. Kiara deserved words.

You took her out on HMS Pogue to a nice place that wasn’t traveled very often and sipped on cheap beer the two of you snatched from the boys. She could tell you were anxious about something but knew to give you time. You would spit it out eventually. But once the sun started to go down, she was worried for the first time that you wouldn’t say it at all. She knew how you felt about her. She was sure you knew how she felt about you. But now you were sitting there, nervously swinging your legs over the edge of the Pogue, and she wasn’t sure if she was right this time.

Deciding against words, Kiara placed her hand on your lower thigh and rubbed her thumb into your soft skin. Your legs stopped swinging immediately, and the both of you felt the tension disappear.

“I’m in love with you,” you blurted. “I know we never say what we’re feeling to each other, we just know, but I wanted to make sure you knew just how much I’m in love with you. Kie, I would travel the world three times around in just this little boat to measure how much I truly love you."

You rambled on listing times when you knew you loved her and metaphors of just how much she meant to you. You told her that you didn’t know if she could even tell how you felt because the feeling was so new and exciting and terrifying. You never felt this way about anyone, even the list of celebrity crushes that had come and gone couldn’t compare to the way you felt about her. The way her cheeks crinkled her eyes when she smiled, the way she couldn’t go anywhere without her bracelets, the way she cared about everyone else way more than she cared about herself. She wasn’t perfect, but she was perfect for you.

She cried, and then you cried because she was crying. The hand on your thigh moved to the side of your face with her finger tips weaving in the little hair at the bottom of your neck and her thumb catching the tears that came down your face. She guided your face to hers and pressed her lips against yours in a sweet kiss. It was unfamiliar territory seeing as how your previous relationships have never felt this intimate. Have never felt this freeing.

∴∵∴∵∴∵∴

That was years ago. Now, both of you had just graduated college and freshly twenty-three. Today was your wedding day. You were going to marry the girl you’ve been in love with since you were sixteen. The two of you had your ups and your downs. Your fights could break any couple a part but not you and Kiara. Because even though you fought hard, you loved harder.

You stared at your reflection in the antique, gold-trimmed mirror. Her parents insisted the two of you got married where they hosted Midsummer’s every year. Your parents had passed away a couple of years before, so the both of you granted the Carrera’s that much since they were paying for it. After all of the mischief the pogues and you caused at that golf course, you and Kie were surprised they agreed to let you have your wedding there. Neither of you cared where you got married. You’d have a courtroom wedding if it meant you two could finally prove your love on paper. Kiara didn’t really care about being “legally bound to someone like you’re their property,” but she thought since it was two women it felt like a big fuck you to the misogynistic system of it all.

You smoothed out your flowing summer dress that went down to your knees with spaghettis straps that showed off an appropriate amount of cleavage and shoulders. The only thing on your feet were the bracelets the pogues each made each other when you were all young and dumb on one ankle and the one that only had one matching twin on the other that was worn by the woman waiting down at the other end of the aisle. The flower crown on your head wasn’t as bulky as the one on Kiara’s head from the Midsummer held during the treasure hunting summer, but it was definitely a homage to the most awesome and awful summer ever.

“Y/N,” John B said from the doorway. He smiled as you looked at him through the mirror. “Ready?”

You laughed. “Since I saw her.”

You turned around and walked over to take his outreached elbow.

“You look beautiful.”

The other two boys were waiting in the hall. Smiles broke out on the everyone’s faces as you each took each other in. Each of the boys knew this would happen eventually. You knew they would be there for you no matter who it was. Pope held the turtle-shaped ring box since JJ called for the job as flower girl. JJ took his job proudly and seriously as he held the basket full of flower petals. Kie and you decided not to hear them bitch and moan about wearing anything resembling formal attire so you let them wear whatever they wanted. Luckily, John B was able to talk Pope and JJ out of wearing the tacky tuxedo t-shirts, and they all settled for similar looking beach attire like they used to wear when they were teenagers.

“Let’s get these two hitched! Come on!” JJ yelled and took off down the hall, careful not spill the flower petals. You were impressed.

Pope kissed you on the cheek and asked, “Nervous?”

“Never.”

The three of you walked to the end of the hall. John B and you stopped before you could pass by the wall of windows, so you didn’t see Kiara before it was time. Pope went on just in time to see JJ dancing down the aisle to Crazy in Love by Beyoncé and see his finale.

“Dude! How am I supposed to compete with that?” You heard Pope yell over the music. The crowd starts to laugh before their laughs turn into cheers as Pope does his thing down the aisle.

You shake your head. “I can’t wait to see the wedding video.”

“Oh, yeah, you won’t be disappointed.” John B laughed.

The music switched to the instrumental of If I Could Fly by One Direction that you chose. You almost dragged John B the moment you heard the beginning chords, but you held yourself back and waited for John B to lead you. You forced yourself to wait again until you got to the doorway to look at Kiara. You could already feel the tears build up behind your eyes at the anticipation at how gorgeous she would look like waiting down at the end of the aisle. As people set their sights on you, you could hear gasps and whispers but you thought it was just because of how good you looked. But when you looked up to catch sight of your future wife, you knew that wasn’t what caught their eyes.

In sync, you and Kiara threw your head back and laughed heartily from the pit of your gut. Even with the setting sun behind her, you could clearly see the dress she wore that matched the one you spent hours deciding on before you chose it to wear on your wedding day. From head to toe, you matched. You decided to wear matching flower crowns because there was no way that your dressed would match. The two of you thought it was too insane that you didn’t even have someone check to make sure.

Through an enormous amount of giggles, John B finally got you down the aisle where he handed you off to Kiara before taking his spot next to Sarah on Kiara’s side. Kiara lead you to your spot next to JJ and Pope. Both of your hands went to each other’s face to wipe the tears of laughter away.

“How? How does this happen to us?” You asked.

She laughed some more and said, “Because we’re two of the same. And I love you just the way you are.”

Oh, how you wanted to skip to the kissing part.

#outer banks #kiara carrera #kiara carrera imagine #kiara x reader #kiara obx #obx #outer banks fic #outer banks imagine #obx imagine #madison bailey #kiara carrera x fem reader

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Carousel (Taywhora) - Plegdoctor

A/N: Right, so fun fact about me, the first drag race fic I ever wrote was actually an Aquaria/Cracker one. It was going to be a high school au but I never ended up finishing it. I recently found it and reread it and found this one scene where they all go to the fair together. So this is a rewrite of a fic that never was! I've obviously had to change some bits to fit the UK2 girls but a lot of it is word for word what I wrote in that little notebook years ago. So yeah, enjoy!

Aurora shivered and wrapped her leather jacket tighter around herself. The cool air of the early winter night fluttered through her hair, threading the blonde strands into a tangle. Lights flashed around her, so bright that she could still see them when she closed her eyes.

Although it was cold, she was comfortable. Content. She could hear the music blaring from various rides and stands, the screams of children and the laughter of teens, the chattering of adults. The air was full of food, candyfloss sugar and savoury smells of greasy burgers and hotdogs that would leave her with a stomach ache for two days.

Best of all, the air was electric. There was an energy like no other fizzing across the atmosphere as she looked at her friends with a smile.

Lawrence had dragged Ellie onto the dodgems, despite desperate protestations from the taller girl. And then of course Lawrence had to challenge Tia to a duel of sorts on the damned things, so Tia had persuaded Veronica to go with her and prove the Scot wrong. She could see them now, Ellie’s blonde hair all over Lawrence’s shoulder as she squealed and cuddled into her.

She was going to miss this.

“Look at those two. Bloody disgusting.”

She didn’t even jump as the voice appeared beside her, the smooth Welsh accent already giving it’s owner away. She held her hand out expectantly, pleased when a bag of candyfloss was placed in it.

“They’re so lovesick. It’s cute. Talking of lovesick, where are Bim and Asttina?”

Tayce sighed. “I think they’re still googling whether candyfloss is vegan or not. I told Bims it was because it’s just sugar but they weren’t convinced.”

Aurora held back a giggle and shivered again. Tayce frowned slightly.

“You cold?”

“A little. I’ll be alright when we get moving again.”

“Right. Who’s winning this duel anyway?”

Aurora snorted. “Fuck knows babe, I’m pretty sure Tia and Lawrence have both committed various war crimes while Ellie and Veronica are just trying to stay alive.”

“Well I’ll warm you up while we wait.” Tayce said, slinging an arm around Aurora’s shoulders and pulling her in close. Aurora sighed and snuggled into her friend, her heartrate increasing with the close proximity. She could feel the soft material of Tayce’s coat, count her steady heartbeat, smell the mixture of her expensive floral perfume and the cheap sugar on her breath.

Aurora could’ve stayed there forever, getting drunk on Tayce’s touch.

“We might wanna go back on guys, we shouldn’t interrupt this sexual tension.” Her peace was cut short by a thick Scottish accent.

She sighed. Tayce simply laughed. “Wind your neck in Lozza, let’s not pretend you didn’t take Ellie on that ride just so she’d be pressed up against you.” She called out playfully, her grip not leaving Aurora’s shoulders.

“Get to fuck Tayce, as if I would lower my standards.” She replied, Ellie giving a little cry of indignation from where she was hanging off her arm.

“That’s not what you told me last night, hen.” She teased, the girls erupting into screams of laughter.

They stumbled through the fair together, arms linked as they all shouted along to the tacky music being played. Bimini and Asttina joined them eventually, Asttina carrying Bimini on her back to “give them the experience of being tall.” Eventually they came to a stop in front of the carousel where Ellie gave a gasp of delight and immediately begged them all to go on it.

They dug through their pockets for the £1 needed, handing it to the bored looking man. Ellie immediately found a pure white horse with a pink saddle and clambered onto it, pulling Lawrence up behind her. Bimini and Asttina chose a blue and grey one, while Veronica and Tia predictably end up on a horse with a green saddle.

Aurora circled the horses a few times, scrutinising them.

“It’s not a house you’re looking for Rory, just get on a horse.” Ellie yelled from where she was, Lawrence’s arms around her middle as her head rested on her fluffy pink jacket.

“Here, this one is good.” Tayce said from atop a black and gold one. She reached out a hand to Aurora who took it. She wrapped her arms around her, her head fitting perfectly in the crevice of her shoulder.

“You’re comfy.” She murmured into Tayce’s neck.

“Girls! Picture!” Tia called behind her, holding up her phone as they all smiled at the camera. Aurora’s eyes flicked to the side to see Tayce sticking her tongue out and threw her head back in laughter.

“Did you get my whole outfit in there, Tia?”

“Els, babe, I don’t know how I couldn’t, I’m surprised Lawrence managed to hold onto you.”

“Think you’ll find I’m very good at holding onto her.” Lawrence’s voice was muffled by the fur of Ellie’s jacket. Aurora giggled at Asttina’s fake retch.

“Hold on tight you hound.” Aurora obeyed Tayce’s whispered command immediately, lacing her fingers together over Tayce’s stomach as the music started and the ride started moving.

She wished the ride would never end, savouring the cries of joy from Tayce like they were her favourite sweet. A pang of jealously struck through her heart when she saw Tia in front of them, leaning down to drop a kiss on Veronica’s head that was resting on her chest. Briefly she caught eye contact with Tayce and ripped her eyes away, loosening her grip as a blush spread under her foundation.

“Why’ve you let go Rory? We can’t have you falling off and dying.” Tayce adjusted her hands to once again be tightly looped on her waist. Aurora momentarily stopped breathing.

They remained that way until the ride stopped and they all clambered down from their respective horses. Bimini was back on Asttina’s back while Tia tried to convince Veronica that she was strong enough to carry her like that. Veronica vehemently rejected the idea as Aurora laughed at her friends, her hand entwined with Tayce’s.

People have always told Aurora how brave she is. Brave to wear clashing patterns (yet still make them work), brave to be the first in her friendship group in year five to get the bus alone, brave to be able to talk to anyone. But she doesn’t believe them. If Aurora were as brave as people have told her she is, she would be able to tell Tayce about how she feels.

She has spent many nights curled up in bed, hugging a pillow to her chest as she imagines letting the words spill from her mouth and into Tayce’s heart. The scenarios all have different outcomes. Sometimes Tayce laughed. Harshly, cruelly, softly, disbelievingly. Sometimes she swept Aurora into her arms and dipped her down low, her long fingers curled into Aurora’s blonde hair as she desperately pressed their lips together. Sometimes she gently let Aurora down, promising that they could still be friends.

That one always hurt the worst.

Who would want to be just friends with the girl that they’ve been in love with for two years?

The question spins her head for the rest of the night, until they’ve moved on from the rides and the food and are hanging around the games.

“Maybe someone will win a goldfish.” She suggested idly, wrapped up with Bimini in Tia’s massive puffer jacket. Bimini shook their head from beside her.

“No one gets fish at fairs babe, that’s like an American thing innit.”

“Well how would I know, do I look American?”

“We’ve been coming here since year seven, you would’ve thought you’d learn by now.”

Aurora huffed, her breath coming out as a harsh mist. “I can live in hope that one day I’ll go home with a new pet that my mum can’t say no to.”

“Bold of you to assume you’d win a goldfish; you can barely hook a duck.” Tia called goadingly to her. Aurora rose immediately to the bait.

“I can so hook a duck! Come on slags, we’re going to the hook-a-duck!” Her battle cry rose into the air as she strode in the general direction of the stall, Bimini hopping to keep up.

It emerges that Tia is, unfortunately, right. Aurora is shit at hook-a-duck.

“How can you be bad at hooking a duck? They’re literally right in front of you.” Ellie wondered out loud, leaning on Lawrence as they watched three of their friends hanging over the wooden slats as they poked sticks at floating rubber ducks. Lawrence let out a bark of laughter, and Veronica on her other side spluttered.

“It’s not as easy as it fucking looks!” Aurora threw back, stretching her arm until her shoulder almost popped from its socket.

She pulled back, dejected, and turned around to admit defeat. “Alright Tia, you win this time.”

“You’re great at many things Aurora, but hand eye coordination is not one of them.” Tia replied calmly as Aurora rolled her eyes.

“It’s alright Rory. Look I won this for you.” Tayce pressed a doll into her hands as Aurora spun it in her hands, looking at it with interest. It had blonde hair like hers, done up in a bun the way she wore it all through year eight. It’s dress was green, leaf shaped, with matching wings in the back.

“Tinkerbell?”

“Yep. She reminds me of you.”

“Aww.’ Aurora flushed pink with a mixture of pleasure and embarrassment at Tayce’s words. ‘Why, because I’m just as gorgeous as her?” She suggested, batting her eyelashes jokingly and curling herself around Tayce’s arm. Tayce looked down at her, a glint in her eye.

“Not exactly.”

“Well why then?”

Tayce’s laugh sent the butterflies in Aurora’s stomach insane. “Because she needs attention or she dies.”

“Oh piss off.” She giggled, nudging the taller girl with her hip as the rest of their friends laughed into the open night sky.

She stayed at Tayce’s side, the doll tucked into her bag.

The meandered further around the fair, stopping every now and then for any ride or games that struck their fancy. Their pockets grew lighter as pound coins disappeared, exchanged for screams of laughter and memories that will forever remind them of being young and free.

“You’ll have to tell her eventually.” Ellie said while they’re waiting for the others on the Helter Skelter, arms laden with coats. Aurora shook her head obstinately, her hair swishing down her back.

“Never.”

“You said you’d tell her when I told Loz! And look how happy we are together. Come on hen, you’ve got to take a chance.” Ellie whacked her with Bimini’s leopard print jacket as though to make a point and Aurora batted it away with a long-suffering sigh.

“We’re not like you and Lawrence, Els.”

“You could be though.”

She fixed her friend with a pointed glare, the effect rather ruined with the amount that she has to look up due to Ellie’s (frankly insane) height.

Ellie relented, looking away with a slight furrow in her brow. “Just do it tonight. Get her alone or something.”

Aurora snorted at the assumption that the pair would ever be alone at the fairground.

But, surely enough, the girls began to peel off one by one. More like two by two, it’s Noah’s bloody Ark over here Aurora thought, ignoring Asttina’s weird look when she snorted quietly to herself.

Tia and Veronica said goodbye first, walking off in the direction of Tia’s house with their arms slung around each other. Asttina and Bim were next, both shooting sly glances at Aurora that made her retreat into her jacket as she waved them off. Lawrence seemed ready to stay the entire night, until Ellie began loudly yawning, poking her girlfriend sharply in the ribs with her elbow. Eventually Lawrence got the point Ellie was trying to make (a point that Aurora will murder her for later) and the two sloped off, whispering and giggling. Aurora turned to Tayce with a bright smile plastered on her face.

“Do you want to stay for a bit?” She ventured. Tayce nodded. She linked her arm with Aurora’s, the simple gesture flooding her brain with serotonin.

They circled the fair, tired yet bright eyes looking out for anything they had missed. It seemed ridiculous to Aurora to expect that there was anything new. The fair hadn’t changed since they first went in Year Seven, eight nervous eleven- and twelve-year-olds with pounds in their pockets begged from their mums. Aurora could still remember everything from that night, fresh in her mind as if it had been yesterday.

She remembered the skirt she wore, black and way too short for her age. She remembered the music playing and the way it filled the air with a joy that she had never felt in her life before. She remembered Ellie getting scared at the top of the Helter Skelter and refusing to go down it without Lawrence holding her hand. She remembered the way Bimini had their hair, long crimped locks that frizzed up for at least the next week.

But, perhaps most importantly, she remembered Tayce. What she was wearing, how her hair looked, the brand of eyeliner that was haphazardly pencilled in her waterline. Her generosity in buying the whole group chips and burgers (aside from Bimini, of course, who only had chips). The way her breath curled into the cold air as she yelled encouragements to a trembling Ellie. That moment where she grabbed Aurora’s hand and Aurora felt something small yet inexplicable tug in her chest.

Sometimes she wished they could go back to those days of innocence. Of clumsy flirting and messy mascara. Before everyone coupled up like it was an episode of Love Island.

Before she realised she had a crush on her best friend.

“There’s nothing new here.”

Tayce’s voice snapped her out of her thoughts. She turned to look at her friend who had a glint of disappointment in her eyes. She snorted and squeezed her arm.

“What did you expect? This place never changes.”

Tayce grinned, the trace of sadness gone from her eyes. “Yeah, I know. That’s what I like about this place sometimes. It’s reliable.”

Aurora shook her head in mock despair. Tayce began walking purposefully, dragging Aurora behind her.

“Where are we going?”

“I want to go on the carousel again!”

“Oh my God my friend is a literal child. Did you have a good day at primary school?” She teased. Tayce screamed and whacked her.

“You bitch! I know that this is your favourite too, Rory, you can’t hide from me!”

It doesn’t take nearly as long to find a horse this time, and soon they’re in a familiar position, Aurora’s chin on Tayce’s shoulder.

“I’m gonna miss this place, Tayce.” She whispered. Her wavering voice betrayed her emotions. Tayce gently ran her thumb over her knuckles.

“Me too.’ She paused, turning her head around as if to take in everything she could. ‘Do you remember when we first came here?”

“Course I do. And we all went on the carousel and you laughed at me because I got my foot stuck and tripped as I was getting off.”

She clung on tighter as Tayce screeched. “Oh, I had almost forgotten about that! See, those are the kind of memories we’re going to take away.”

“What if we didn’t take them away?”

“Are you suggesting we stay here forever?”

“…maybe?”

“Aurora, you’ve been trying to get out of here for the past four years!”

“I know, it’s just,’ She sighed, her nostalgia coming out in a swirl of haze. ‘This is where we all consolidated our friendship.”

“We’ll come back for the fair.”

“Maybe for the first year. But then we’ll all get busy with life and degrees until it gets to the point where we look at old pictures and can’t even remember what year it was.”

“Nah, Bim’s shit hair dying skills have improved over the years, use their hair to judge the year.”

“Tayce-“

“I know, I know.”

They slipped into a brief silence, the background music still loud in their ears as they strained to memorise the notes.

Aurora wasn’t feeling brave.

But, even with her heart heavy from the feeling that this was the end of something, she found that she was happy.

Aurora spent hours looking in her Nan’s battered thesaurus, trying to find better words for ‘happy’ after her English teacher told her she needed a more varied vocabulary. But sometimes there was no other word to describe it. She was just simply happy when she was with Tayce.

“I’m going to miss you the most.” The words slipped out of her lips.

Tayce stiffened for a moment. Then she spoke.

“I’ll miss you the most too. Not just… as a friend. Even though you are my friend, it’s just,’ She twisted to look at her friend and laughed. ‘Don’t make me say this.”

“No, go on! I want to hear what you’re going to say!” Her heart thumped wildly in her chest.

“I like you Rory. Not just as a friend. As more than a friend. And I wish I told you earlier so we could have more time together.”

Her heart stopped beating altogether as she let the new information seep into her brain.

Tayce liked her.

Tayce liked her as much as she liked her.

She pushed herself forwards slightly. Her arms still entwined around the other girl’s waist, her chest pressed against her back. Slowly, shyly, and in the least Aurora way known to man, she gently kissed Tayce’s smooth cheek.

“I like you too.’ She murmured into her ear. ‘More than friends. So much more than friends.”

“Oh my God.” Tayce said under her breath.

She twisted round until she was facing Aurora. Her long thin fingers found their way to Aurora’s face and then her hair as their lips met for the first time.

Aurora felt like all the electricity and magic of the fair was sucked from the air and contained entirely within her. She felt as if she might explode, every particle that made her up buzzing with joy as she clung to her best friend and kissed her like her life depended on it.

They pulled away when they felt the ride come to a stop. Aurora couldn’t breathe.

“Can we take a selfie?” Her cheeks are flushed as she speaks, embarrassed that this is the first thing to exit her mouth after finally admitting her love for Tayce after years of pining.

Tayce scrunched her nose. “Why?”

She shrugged. “I want to remember this forever. And never run the risk of forgetting.”

Tayce just laughed and kissed her again. And again. And again.

The next September, Aurora stands alone in a room. It’s technically hers, but it doesn’t feel like that yet. She slips on her headphones as she begins her task of decorating, hoping that when she’s done she won’t feel like she wants to cry anymore.

Just an hour later she slips her headphones off to do the last part in tranquil silence.

She’s methodical as she pins pictures to the board. Her family on one side, her friends on the other, with both of them mingling in the centre. She giggles as she tacks up the first group selfie they ever took, all squished on the ghost train that made Ellie scream bloody murder. She swears she can smell candyfloss and greasy burgers as she puts the rest of them up, revelling in the memories that flood her mind.

The group one from last year might be her favourite group one to date. Tia and Veronica at the front, smiling like they’ve won the life lottery as they curled together. Lawrence and Ellie cosily close, Lawrence playfully throwing a peace sign while Ellie stretched to make sure Tia got her whole outfit in. Bim and Asttina smirking, their eyes betraying the pure excitement that Aurora knows was within them.

Her and Tayce. Tayce’s pointed tongue stuck out cheekily that caused Aurora to throw her head back in the most genuine display of happiness ever captured on camera.

There was one final picture to put up. Although, it may have been a bit unnecessary. It was already her phone background, in a frame by her bed, and plastered all over her social media.

Slightly swollen lips, windswept hair, matching euphoric smiles.

Their first kiss, and the time that Aurora knew she would be in love with Tayce until the end of time.

It gets stuck right in the middle, pride of place.

Aurora takes a quick picture of the finished board. She sends it to the groupchat and flings herself onto her bed to read the rapid replies, her Tinkerbell doll cradled in the crook of her arm.

Basic <3: Omg!! That’s so cute, I love those pictures so much!

Loch Ness Bitch: are ya getting soppy already Rory, you’ve only been gone five minutes

Dirty D: Loz shut up it’s cute! All those memories <333

Sailor Vee: Ahh I can’t wait to go to the fair again this year. We’re defo all coming back, right?

Rude: Course we are Ronnie I wouldn’t miss it for the world

Vegan: Greasy chips on me, ladies x

Hound: I bloody hope so Bim, think you all still owe me from year 7

She’s happy. Aurora is happy as the groupchat descends into chaos, happy that they can still be like this while spread around the country. Her phone pings again.

Tayce: The carousel will always be there Rory. I’ll be waiting for you there x

She smiles as she taps out her reply.

Aurora: I love you so much <3

When she closes her eyes, Aurora can feel the cool winter air threading through her hair. She can smell the candyfloss sugar and savoury smells of greasy burgers and hotdogs that would leave her with a stomach ache for two days. She can hear the tacky tunes she loved to shout along too.

But best of all, she knows that in her heart, her love for Tayce is electric. It’s steady, reliable, and comforting.

Just like riding the carousel.

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #tayce #a'whora #taywhora #uk2 #background other uk2 girls #lesbian au #high school au #plegdoctor #carousel

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sincerelybluevase · 3 years

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Careful, Madam Chapter Seven

A/N: Here it is, the final chapter! Thank everyone for being so patient with this one (the first chapter was published in June 2020, insane how time flies) and for the lovely comments; they mean a lot to me! For a gorgeous preview made by @thegirlisuedtobe, click here. Tagging @alice1nwond3rland, @need-not, @mlletina, @msmaryadmitrievna, @solattea, @halewynslady.

Maxim was the first to speak. “Steady, Mrs Danvers. You wouldn’t want to shoot me.”

Mrs Danvers did not waver. She held the gun steady. Not a muscle in her face moved so that she seemed hard and resolute to me, marble-made. “Let go of Mrs de Winter, sir.”

He released my arm with a theatrical motion, raising splayed hands in mock surrender.

“Come to me, Madam.”

I went so quickly I nearly stumbled. I wished to clutch her arm, to feel the reassuring solidness of her long lean limbs, but I was afraid of what might happen; I didn’t want to set off the gun by accident.

Maxim looked at us with hatred. His face had turned cold and masklike with it. “Now what?” he asked. “You’ll shoot me, Mrs Danvers?”

“I will if you force me, sir,” she said.

“And then what, Mrs Danvers? What happens then? Have you thought about that? Should you kill me, you will hang; the law won’t take pity on you for being a woman. They’ll string you up by that thin neck of yours until you are dead.”

“They won’t if they know what you are, sir.”

“And what am I?”

She glanced at me, at my reddening cheek. “A murderer and a wife-beater.”

He laughed coldly. “That’s no reason to shoot me, now is it, Mrs Danvers? I think you and I and the law can all agree on that.”

“It is if you provoked me, if you threatened your wife and unborn child, sir.”

The laughter petered out. Still he smiled, showing his sharp canines. “You’d have to aim well then, Mrs Danvers, and kill me with one shot, because if you leave me well enough to talk, you’ll be done for. Who do you think the police and lawmen will believe: me, a gentleman with an impeccable reputation, or you, a mad, old, sexually-frustrated maid with unnatural tendencies?”

I wished to speak so I could defend her, but fear held me in its grip, petrifying and silencing me.

Mrs Danvers set her jaw and tightened her grip around the gun. “I’m a good marksman, sir. If I aim to kill, I shall.”

“Perhaps,” Maxim jeered, “but are you certain? And are you absolutely certain that, even if you kill me, you won’t go to prison? They’re harsh places, prisons. Do you want to spend the rest of your life in a cold, damp room, with only a strip of sky to remind you of what lies outside?”

Still Mrs Danvers held the gun steady, her joints seemingly locked into place. “Here’s what men like you don’t understand,” she said softly, “I gave the best years of my life to your first wife; I’m willing to lay down what years remain to me for your second.”

My love for her made a pain rise in my throat. I swallowed against the tears. I looked at Maxim, thinking he would refute her or curse at her. He did no such thing. Instead, he began to yawn, making a great show of it, his mouth opened so wide I could see the fillings in his molars. When he was done, his eyes watered. He brushed the tears away with a fingertip, then turned to me. “You shall stop this nonsense right now,” he said. He spoke as if I was a naughty child.

I shook my head. I could not speak.

A vein at his temple began to throb. I could see it jump around under the skin, writhing like a worm. “Oh, but you shall. You shall stay here, with me, and we shall forget this moment of madness. Mrs Danvers shall have to go, of course, no sane man would keep a housekeeper who pulled a gun on him, but I shan’t press charges. I’ll even give her a good reference. A woman with her qualities can work for any fine family in England. But you, my little darling, shall remain here, by my side, as my wife and the mother of my children.”

“No,” I whispered.

“No? What do you mean, ‘no’?”

“I don’t want to stay.”

He laughed in disbelief. “You don’t want to stay? Do you understand what you’re saying? Before you met me, you had no friends or kin, money, no prospects. You were an old lady’s plaything, her little whipping boy. I raised you up out of darkness. I gave you a name, a house, a reputation to uphold. Without me you have nothing and you are no one, just a grubby little schoolgirl with bad nails and a name no one can spell. Do you hear me? You are nothing!”

“She won’t be nothing. She’ll be my mine,” Mrs Danvers said.

With a roar, Maxim lunged at her. She pulled the trigger, but he knocked the gun out of her hand. The shot went wild, the bullet damaging one of the plaster leaves on the ceiling, causing crumbs to rain down dryly. The gun fell to the floor, skidded, came to rest not a step away from me.

Maxim punched Mrs Danvers in the face, once, twice, thrice. Her head snapped back. She staggered. Blood poured down her mouth and chin. She made a soft choking sound, coughed. Drops of blood flew from between her lips.

“Stop!” I meant to scream it, but it came out as a whisper.

Again Maxim struck her. This time she stumbled and fell, her skirts billowing around her like black sails. He bent over her and continued to beat her. His fists came down on her face and throat again and again and again, dull slaps of flesh against flesh.

“Maxim! Maxim, stop! You’ll kill her!” I screamed. The sound carried, though for all the good it did, I might well have kept my tongue; Maxim continued to brutally, systematically beat Mrs Danvers. She tried to sit up to fend him off, but he pushed her down. Again she rose, again he beat her down.

As a child, I had witnessed our cat playing with a mouse. It would let it run, only to smack it down with its paw before it could get away. The mouse didn’t stand a chance, yet it persisted hopelessly, just as Mrs Danvers would persist in trying to sit up until she could rise no more.

There was only one thing to do. I bent down and took hold of the gun. It was still cool despite Mrs Danvers’ grip. I raised it and found it surprisingly heavy for its size; it almost slipped out of my clammy hand. With one eye closed I aimed the gun at Maxim, but I was shaking and dared not fire for fear of hurting Mrs Danvers.

I brought the gun to my temple instead. “Maxim, look at me,” I shouted. “I’ll kill myself! I’ll kill myself and your unborn child if you don’t stop!”

He looked over his shoulder. His face was spattered with blood, his lip curled into a snarl. He let go of Mrs Danvers’ dress, causing her to thud to the ground, and came to his feet. “Don’t!” he said. “Don’t you dare!” He stumbled to me, his hands outstretched to wrest the gun from me.

I pointed the gun at him, closed my eyes, and shot.

All of this happened many years ago. My life now is very different from the one I led at Manderley. I’ve said goodbye to England and now have no estate to call my home, no husband to lord over me. Here, my name means nothing, and my face, once plastered over every English newspaper, is just another face, easily forgotten. No one need know that I once was the second Mrs de Winter, the one who everyone knows because she killed her husband. An act in which she was justified, of course, since he had murdered his first wife and now wished to kill her, too, before putting a bullet through his own brain, but that never made the case any less sensational. Whenever I think of it – which, when I am honest, is seldom but still too often for my taste – I can’t help but smile wryly. After all, there is a cruel sort of irony to the whole affair; Maxim killed Rebecca to safeguard Manderley’s reputation, but her murder proved to be the first link in a chain of events that would lead to a nationwide scandal. If I close my eyes, I can still see the reporters pressed against the gates, pen and notepad in hand, clamouring to see me.

There are no reporters in my new life. They do not know where I am, and to the local ones I am of no interest. I live in a cool little cottage, painstakingly paid for with the money I earn with my drawing lessons; I have given away everything I inherited upon Maxim’s death, for I never desired his money even before it became tainted with murder and madness.

Every day is much the same, but that I don’t mind. There’s comfort in familiarity, safety in routine, and after all that we’ve lived through, Danny and I have a certain hankering for comfort. Besides, raising a child together provides plenty of challenges and excitement, we’ve found.

Dear Danny. She’s wonderfully patient with me. I fear I am not always easy to live with. For all my efforts, I’ve not been able to banish the past completely. It still inhabits and possesses a part of me, one that I can fight when awake but must succumb to in slumber, so that, at night, I walk the grounds of Manderley once more. In my dreams, the house and grounds have fallen victim to rot and ruin. The lawn has gone to seed, sickness has turned the chestnut tree into a bleached husk, and the rhododendrons have reared to the fantastic heights of fairy-tale briars. The house itself sags to the side, its walls pockmarked by sour rain, the windows dirty and broken.

But for all its neglect, it is not uninhabited. I do not talk of the birds and bats roosting in the rafters, nor of the mice living underneath the floorboards and the silverfish who slowly eat away the wallpaper.

The library, with its masculine smell of leather and smoke and newspaper ink, is his domain in death as it was in life. There, he paces up and down, up and down. All that pacing has worn the carpet to threads. Each night I must go to him. It does not matter that I am unwilling; my mind and feet betray me, and take me to him. He knows that I am coming and awaits me with impatience, smoking cigarettes in quick succession, littering the ground with ash and butts. His face, once so handsome in a peculiar, medieval way, is ruined by the shot that killed him. It turned his left eye to pulp and smashed the orbital bones to pieces so that the area around the eye is curiously dented.

There must have been no time for Maxim to realise my betrayal; the bullet bored itself into his brain, killing him instantly. The Maxim of my dreams, though, gives me an amused, cruel little smile. Then – just as my life has become routine, my dreams have, too, and so this next moment never varies – he opens his arms to me. I don’t want to, but I must step into his embrace. He pulls me close to him until my head rests against his chest, against the fabric of his tweed jacket turned sodden by blood and the jelly leaking from his burst eye.

“My little love,” he murmurs as he strokes my hair, his breath stinking of the grave, “you didn’t think you’d ever be free of me, now did you? I shall never let you go.”

It is then I wake, gasping and sobbing.

Danny aims to soothe me, kissing my face and folding her long arms around me. I cling to her so tightly it must hurt. She’s no longer as strong as she used to be. No one would be after what Maxim did to her. He damaged her left eye to the point of blindness. During the years, it has turned milky white. She has taken to wearing a velvet eyepatch over it to keep out the light, for even the flame of a candle upon her left eye can trigger a mighty headache. Even covered up it pains her, but she never complains.

She holds me well after the shaking has subsided, kissing my hair. I kiss her throat in return, her chin, her cool sweet mouth. I always hesitate when I reach the scars Maxim left on her face. He embossed her cheek with his signet ring, the M and W intertwined. Yet whenever I hesitate, she brings her mouth to my ear. “No need to be careful, Madam,” she whispers, and then I know.

I have someone in this world to call my own.

I have someone to love.

#my fanfic #danvich #rebecca #rebecca fanfic #rebecca das musical #one day i shall write a fic in which Maxim is actually like his musical counterpart and not an evil moustache-twirling psycho #but in this one he's a lot more like his book counterpart

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justapoet · 3 years

Text

Infinity times infinity

For years, it lost its magic. Looking up was just useless and he was happy to avoid more questions without answers because those related to the Earth itself were already exhausting enough to keep him awake at night. And, then, TK happened.

Carlos loves stars, and he, somehow, found them inside of the most beautiful irises he's ever seen.

2.2k

read on AO3

There's something about the nights that makes Carlos's mind feel light and peaceful. Since he was a child, even more as a teenager, he'd sit on his parent's house's balcony and stare at the sky for hours until his father called him back in, so he wouldn't mess up his sleep schedule too much.

Yet, he'd spend most nights looking out his window thinking; about the stars and the most random things. He'd spend sleepless nights naming constellations and trying to remember the myth behind each one, explaining to his own shadow under the silver glow of the moon. His cellphone used to always have notes and pictures of planets and galaxies, his calendar always marking the nights and days when some astronomic event would happen so he could convince his mother to let him stay awake the whole night.

When he joined the police academy, though, he stopped thinking about it. Carlos didn't even notice when he stopped looking up, but somehow, when he did, it started to make his neck ache enough for him to give up soon. He didn't search for constellations or planets anymore and no longer knew when it would happen a meteor shower or a red moon, and his cellphone's gallery also didn't have pictures of anything related to space.

And, then, TK happened. After years without looking up, there was TK Strand, who would drive him crazy and make him come up with more questions without a single answer and sometimes without even a question mark, making him doubt all of his steps and sentences. Then, all of a sudden, there was this beautiful firefighter with terrible luck, a gorgeous smile, and the most beautiful eyes Carlos has ever seen in his twenty-seven years of life.

TK happened and, somehow, looking up and forward didn't seem to ache anymore.

Oh, well; if being honest, TK happened, and looking down was way more painful when they were riding an ambulance with a bleeding wound on TK's abdomen and sirens blaring on the streets. Seeing the pain clouding those pretty eyes hurt way too much and, yet, he needed to ― someone needed to keep him awake.

"C'mon, babe; you have to keep your eyes open. You know the drill" Carlos said again, probably for the fifth time in five minutes. "Keep your beautiful eyes open for me, uh?"

"'ou like m'eyes?" TK grumbled. Carlos hummed in agreement. "Why?" his voice was low and full of pain, and he winced as Tommy touched close to the wound. Carlos squeezed the paramedic's hand in his, smiling quite embarrassed.

"There's this, uh... Planetary nebula, a young one. It's called Butterfly Nebula because of its wing-like appearance, a few more than three thousand light-years from us ― from Earth ―, on the Scorpio constellation" he started, shyly. His words caught TK's attention immediately, those big green eyes, even filled with pain, focused on Carlos' worried and beautiful face. Tommy, beside them, seemed to be curious, too, about where the conversation was going.

"It's one of the most complex planetary nebulas ever found, you know?" he asked, smiling little. "And the colors seem to change, too. Some pictures of it show us a dark nebula with points of light, some red, blue, and a lot of shades of orange" TK frowned, and Carlos could tell that this time, it wasn't because of the pain, but because he couldn't understand how it was related to his eyes. "My favorite thing about it is that it always, in every single picture, has shades of green light close to the center of it and on its edges"

Carlos chuckled a little when both Tommy and TK let out an "oh" with a sigh. He looked at their entangled hands before starting to speak again.

"I used to think that, if I looked through a telescope, as a kid, I'd be able to see it," he said, smiling nostalgically. "My father would tell me it was impossible and it would only give me an aching neck, and my mother would say that some things are just out of reach" he shrugged before looking up again, meeting those unfairly green eyes. "Turns out they were both wrong"

TK pressed his lips together, and Carlos could tell that there were new tears in his boyfriend's eyes in a second. The beeping sound around them went a little faster, and Tommy turned her head and smiled towards them both, focusing on Carlos for a second. He blushed, knowing that it was TK's heart racing for what he'd just said.

They got to the hospital minutes later, and Carlos was left in the same waiting room he always ended up in as they carried TK away to another surgery. He let a few tears fall before trying to breathe steadily again, his leg bouncing with anxiety brought by the uncertainty. No matter how many times he ended up there with the same questions and situations, he could never calm his heart and mind down until he had a concrete answer, and Carlos knew well enough that he wouldn't have it for a few hours.

When, hours later, they were all allowed to check up on TK ― the team had arrived after their shift ended ―, Carlos stood close to the window as his boyfriend drifted back to sleep. He looked up at the sky that night and counted constellations until a nurse came in to check the man's vitals. Then, he sat back at the bedside and took TK's hand in his, spending another sleepless night counting the dots on TK's arm.

From that day on, he'd find himself constantly looking up when the sunset on the horizon gave the sky away to the moon. He could tell TK was curious, slightly worried about Carlos' silence most nights, so the cop would just hold tight to him and kiss him slowly. TK didn't complain about that ― he could never ―, and he didn't ask either. Carlos mentally thanked him for that, otherwise, he wouldn't know what to tell his boyfriend.

It was nostalgic, now, to sit on his balcony and look up at the dark skies above him. It was a Friday night, both TK and him out of a twenty-four-hour shift, and it was silent and peaceful. Carlos sat on the ground, and his knees were brought close to his chest, his chin resting over his folded arms.

He wasn't searching for anything specific, although his eyes could easily name one or two constellations immediately. It was late, already past midnight, and he couldn't tell how much time he spent in that position on the balcony.

At some moment, though, he felt a warm hand on his shoulder, and then a cup filled with a smokey liquid was put in front of his face. A second after his hands were around the cup, a warm body was next to his and big, bright eyes were staring at his profile. He smiled while looking at the sweet tea, the smell filling his lungs, and then looked back at the sky.

"Trying to find a nebula?" TK asked, his voice low and sweet. Carlos chuckled, shaking his head politely.

"Remembering my favorite stars," he said, and TK looked at him with curiosity, waiting for more explanation. "I used to love looking up at the sky and naming all the stars and constellations I could remember"

"Used to?" TK asked.

"I stopped looking up at some point in my life" Carlos shrugged. "Imagining any other worlds started to be painful".

TK didn't answer Carlos' words, processing them in a painful moment. He analyzed the man's face carefully, each edge and spot filling his heart with a fast, welcoming, and safe feeling, and each one of his words filling his chest with heaviness and some kind of gray cloud.

Slowly, he bent his head to the side so it was carefully placed on Carlos' shoulder. The cop took a sip of his tea, his head lightly leaning against TK's, his eyes still focused up at the stars as if he would miss something truly important if he ever stopped looking. TK found it adorable, one of his hands touching Carlos' arm and his fingers wrapping on his long-sleeve t-shirt.

"The butterfly nebula?" his voice was barely a whisper, and a tiny shy smile took over the latino's lips. "Do my eyes really remind you of it?"

Carlos nodded.

"That's probably the best compliment I've ever received in my entire life," TK said, the joke being said with a quite bitter truth behind it. "And what you've been searching for in the sky, now?" he asked once Carlos tangled their fingers together, kissing the back of the new yorker's hand.

"I'm not searching for anything," he said, slowly shaking his head. "Just wondering" concluded, and TK turned his head to place his chin on the cop's shoulder.

"What about?" questioned.

"About how... You know, we have more than we can count, on the Universe. More stars than we can put in numbers, more planets than we can put in names, and more mystery than we can put in theory" Carlos said, sighing. "There are more possibilities than we will ever imagine, and more life than we will ever be able to put among births and deaths. And, yet, here we are" he seemed lost in a trail of thoughts. "Putting time in clocks, names in stars and lives inside boxes. It's insane that, with everything we could discover, this tiny little space, this minimal planet... This tiny piece of nothing drifting in the edge of the Universe is everything we have"

He stopped, and TK absorbed the words calmly. It was something to think about, indeed, all of the things we praise so much being just a little thing, a grain of sand ― or maybe that's too much ― in the middle of something way bigger than we could ever imagine.

"And yet?" TK asked, knowing his boyfriend way too much to supposed he was finished with his thoughts. Carlos smiled gently, and TK felt the heart-melting feeling inside of his chest.

"And, yet, I wouldn't trade it for anything" Carlos stated, and TK could only admire him with a silly and loving smile.

Carlos squeezed TK's hand in his.

"So, I was just wondering about how, among uncountable stars, planets, stars, nebulas," he started, and TK smiled sweetly once again. "Among all of the possibilities inside and out of the way we see the Universe, among all the time in its totality; life, death, whatever time is," he said, still looking up. Then, his eyes went down and his face softened even more as his beautiful, dark, brown irises met TK's green, light ones. "How, on Earth and out of it, did I have luck enough to find you?"

In a second, TK lost his breath and ability to speak. His eyes widened a little, his chin no longer using Carlos' shoulder as support when his mouth just went open in incredulity with the weight those words had. He didn't even realize when tears gathered at the edges of his eyes, his heart insanely beating inside his ribcage with strength enough he could swear his ribs would break.

It didn't last more than five seconds, TK knew it, but for a moment it felt like forever. Carlos watched, a sweet smile taking over his lips and a purely joyful sparkle glimmering on his eyes as TK processed the words and, in seconds, threw himself against Carlos.

The cop laughed, his arms quickly wrapping TK's waist to pull him closer and his lips happily parting so TK could kiss him the way he wanted to. He felt something in his chest exploding, and he could only imagine that, whatever it was, it was just as bright as his boyfriend's smile between kisses.

Because Carlos could never imagine, as a child, that he would love someone the way he always heard love was. He couldn't convince himself that, somehow, among all things they could have, a feeling so pure and especial would be a possibility. Something so good, so unbelievably safe and warm could be his.

And, somehow, now TK was in his arms, kissing him breathlessly and caring, making him feel as if all the questions he ever made had an answer. They didn't, he knew it deep down, and he didn't really give it much importance as TK curled himself against Carlos, breathing deep as his nose went to the crook of the cop's neck.

"I love you," TK said. "The stars are witnesses to this" his voice was a low whisper against Carlos' skin, and he could only smile widely and hold TK close as they both looked back up at the skies.

"They'll forever be" Carlos answered, and he could tell TK was smiling.

There's something about the nights that makes Carlos's mind feel light and peaceful.

There's something about TK that makes Carlos feel infinite.

#tarlos #tarlos fic #tk strand x carlos reyes #carlos reyes x tk strand #tk x carlos #carlos x tk #tk and carlos #911 lone star #911 lone star fic #my writing #my fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #paramedic tk #paramedic tk strand

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writtenonreceipts · 3 years

Note

If you have time! If you don’t no worries! 111. “You can’t just hug me and think everything’s okay.” For Rowaelin, Rowan cheats make it angst. Don’t beat yourself up about your writing! Thanks! 😍

Thanks for the prompt! This was interesting to write, I deff pulled on my years of watching FRIENDS and Greys Anatomy for this, haha.

Also, no matter what happens, my friends in America, we can get through this.

Warnings: Angst.

“All I’m saying is that you’re not supporting me in this,” Aelin said.

She threw her purse down on the dining room table of the small apartment she shared with her best friend, Lysandra. It was a tiny place, but it was cheap and neither girl made much money. But they loved it. Aelin had spent all her spare time fixing the place up and shopping clearance racks at the home furniture and renovation stores to make their home more inviting.

“I do support you,” Rowan said. Again.

It felt like it was all he ever said these days though Aelin could never see the fruits of his words.

She ran a hand through her hair and sighed. “Then what's the problem with me going on this trip for work? Is it because Sam will be there? And Chaol? Do you not trust me?”

Rowan froze on his trip to the fridge. He turned around to look at her, his green eyes digging into her. “What? Fireheart, of course I trust you.”

“Then what’s the problem, Rowan?” Aelin asked. “This trip could mean so much for me.”

“We barely had any time together this whole month,” Rowan said. He looked as though he wanted to say more but he bit the words off, turning back to the fridge.

“You knew this would happen when I accepted this job,” Aelin insisted for what felt like the millionth time this past month. “We both did.”

Rowan grunted and grabbed a beer from the fridge. He popped the top off without second thought and took a long sip.

Aelin waited in silence until he was done. Until almost half the bottle was drowned. She waited, hands on her hips where her stupid pantyhose were digging into her gut and the waist band of her skirt didn’t help any. She looked gorgeous today and the only person who had complimented her had been Sam. If Aelin really wanted to, if she really wanted to piss Rowan off she would tell him. Let him know that another man was checking her out.

Because for as much as Aelin loved Rowan, lately she’d felt like they’d barely been treading water in their tumultuous relationship. She felt like they were adrift in a seat of rapids and maelstroms. For as much as Aelin loved Rowan, she felt like their relationship these days was slowly drowning her.

“So what you’re saying is that our relationship is alright to sacrifice for the sake of your career?” Rowan asked.

The words were cold and hard. They struck Aelin and latched onto her heart tugging sharply.

“Excuse me?” she asked. The words were barely more than a whisper. She couldn’t seem to bring herself to speak any louder. It took all her energy to even be able to scrap those two together.

“You care more about this job than us,” Rowan repeated, not backing down from his previous statement.

Aelin dragged her hand over her face. So many different things were working through her body. Anger among them, but never before had she felt such a strong desire cry. Her chest tightened with each passing second.

“How dare you,” she finally said. She tore off her coat and flung it down beside her purse. “How dare you say that. I’m doing something I care about Rowan. I am trying. I am trying to be better than I have been before, to be better than the spoiled rich girl that would never amount to anything than daddy’s fortune. I found a job I love, one that can help us, help me, get a little further than this place.”

She gestured around the apartment with all the decorations she had managed to scrape together and the small collage she’d made of pictures of them. There were the mismatched chairs for the dining room table they’d found at a garage sale, a lamp that seemed to be paying homage to the garden gnomes, and even the rug that took weeks to get the stink of cat out of it. It was all there's. What they had tried to make together.

“I get that,” Rowan said carefully, though she noticed how white his grip had become on the bottle of his beer. “You know I do and I am proud of you for that, but we hardly see each other anymore. I’m tired of our relationship being texts and missed calls.”

Aelin shook her head and paced the kitchen. “I can’t keep having this same argument, Rowan. It’s going to drive me insane.”

“I’m trying to offer solutions.”

“No, you're offering me ultimatums.”

They stilled. Noise from the streets below filtered into the apartment. A police care zipped passed and the lights of the siren reflected through the windows in the living room.

“I need a break,” Rowan said. He downed the rest of his beer and grabbed his keys from the table. “I can’t do this right now.”

“Rowan,” Aelin said as he stalked past her, he didn’t look at her, “Rowan Whitethorn.”

The door slammed behind him.

When Rowan entered the bar, he slumped down on the first open stool he found. He didn’t remember ordering but found a whiskey passed his way. And another. And another.

Too often lately did he find himself in this bar. It was one that his friends rarely came to. One that Aelin never visited. It was dimly lit with a few tables scattered about. No dance floor. Occasionally there was an open mic night for wash-up bands or slam poetry. It was a place one could easily go unnoticed in.

Someone slid into the stool next to him, but he didn’t look up.

“Another round, Cain,” a soft, musical voice said.

Rowan looked up as another whiskey found its way into his hands. The woman seated beside him had rich brown hair pulled into a messy ponytail. Loose strands framed her round face and brought out her chestnut eyes.

“You look like you could use a distraction,” she said. A knowing smile flitted across her mouth as she leaned into him, one hand brushing up his thigh. “I’m Lyria.”

It was seven in the morning when Aelin found herself outside Rowan’s apartment. She’d texted him twenty minutes ago saying she wanted to stop by before work. Even though she knew it would only result in another frustrating argument--she wanted to try. She needed to try to make things better with Rowan.

He buzzed her up just as the front doors to the building ratted open and a young woman stepped out. She was pretty, Aelin noticed immediately. Even with her disheveled hair and clothing that let everyone know what she’d been up to the night before. But she smiled confidently at Aelin as she held the door open.

Aelin frowned, glancing at the woman's shirt, tucked into her black skirt. It looked familiar, though Aelin couldn’t quite place it. She shook the thought off as she got on the elevator, rehearsing what she would say to Rowan the entire way.

I love you. I’m sorry. We can make this work. We can do better. We can make it through this.

She was almost ready to suggest therapy. Because in all honesty, despite how hard things had been, she’d always imagined a life with Rowan. A long life together.

The first words were on the tip of her tongue as she knocked on his door. He opened it. Not an ounce of sleep remained on his face. Rather, he was alert. Strange, he slept in as long as possible until his nine o’clock shift started just down the street.

“Hey,” she said, her speech forgotten. She was just grateful to lay eyes on him after her texts went unread all last night.

“Hey.” His voice was soft, almost too soft, but he opened the door for her to come in.

The apartment was familiar and almost as much a home to her as her own place. Not only because they were dating but because he lived with her cousin, Aedion. But it seemed like Rowan was home alone. Not surprising considering how Aedion was practically living with his girlfriend Lysandra.

“I was worried about you,” she said, turning to face him as he shut the door. “You didn’t reply to any of my messages.”

“I was drunk,” he said.

True enough, despite how awake he was, Aelin could see his bloodshot eyes and the rings under his eyes. He looked like hell.

“I want to talk,” she said. Her hair was in a messy side bun that allowed for loose tendrils to wave in her face. Brushing them haphazardly aside she eyed Rowan as he stood bare chested before her, his gym shorts slung low around his hips. A black shirt was balled in his fists.

His mouth worked silently as he stared at her, as he stared at her with broken eyes and...shame. But it was not the sort of shame Aelin had expected. Especially not when he dropped his gaze almost immediately from hers.

“I want to talk too,” he said, the grip that he had on the shirt tightened.

“I want to make this work, Ro,” Aelin told him before he could continue. “I know it’s been hard, but I love you. I need this to work.”

It wasn’t the speech she had planned on, but the words were simple and got her point across.

“Aelin,” Rowan rasped, stepping away from her. He raised a hand to tug through his hair that had grown out in the past month. It wasn’t quite as long as when they’d first gotten together, but it was distinctly longer that Aelin remembered it being for a while.

Aelin waited for him to keep talking, but his voice trailed off slowly. She tilted her head to the side, dread began boiling in her belly though she had no idea where it could be coming from. This was Rowan after all. Still, she couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.

“Rowan,” Aelin said slowly. But now she was the one who couldn’t continue. Not when there was a ling scent in the apartment. Something like flowers. Not when the couch was in disarray and the pillows strewn about.

“I made a mistake,” he said.

And then Aelin knew. The girl she saw leaving the building wearing that familiar shirt. It was only familiar because it was a shirt Aelin had bought for Rowan months ago. She stumbled back a step as the truth came to her. No matter how badly she wanted to believe it wasn’t true she couldn’t convince herself otherwise.

“I was drunk, dammit I was so drunk,” he said. His voice kept coming. That voice that had brought her so much pleasure was now a screech to her ears. “Baby, I didn’t even realize what was happening before it happened.”

He wouldn’t shut up.

Aelin was aware of the rambling though none of it made sense. Because her Rowan wouldn’t do this. Her Rowan never could have done this.

She didn’t notice when he stepped forward, one hand extending towards her. When his hand landed on her shoulder, she flinched away.

“Fireheart.” He pulled his hand back, but kept moving closer until she could feel the heat rolling off his body. Until she could practically smell that floral perfume on his body.

“No, don’t you dare.” snapped. Pushing him away she glared up at him. A mix of pleasure and misery worked through her when she saw the anguish on his face. Her emotions quickly melted into nausea. “Who was she?”

Rowan stared at her. “I don't--”

“Who the hell was she?”

Rowan swallowed stiffly. “Her name was Lyria. She was at the bar with me last night. Dammit Aelin, I never wanted this to happen.”

“Then why did you let it?” Aelin couldn’t help the way her voice broke, the way tears burned in her eyes.

She was too busy trying to keep herself in one piece that she didn’t step away when Rowan moved for her again. His arms came around her in a quick, warm embrace and his voice rumbled in her ears.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. You have to believe me.”

“No.” Aelin said again. Firmly pushing him away she spun around toward the door and dragged her fingers beneath her eyes. “You can’t just hug me and think that everything’s okay.”

“Aelin,” Rowan tried speaking again, but Aelin was already ripping his door open.

She stared at him as tears leaked down her cheeks. “You were the one person I never thought would hurt me like this.”

“Aelin!”

She slammed the door behind her and ran for the stairs of the building. There was no sound that he was coming after her, but Aelin wouldn’t take chances. She ran down the stairs and for the door. She didn’t stop running until her car was speeding down the highway and she was flinging out a hasty text that she wouldn’t be into work that day.

And as she drove Aelin found that she had no idea where she was going. The city rushed by in hasty disarray and still she drove. Faster and faster. And she didn’t think she would ever come back.

tags: @tottenhamboys20 @morganofthewildfire @elinchocolatelover @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx

#throne of glass #throne of glass fanfiction #aelin and rowan #aelin galathynius #rowan whitethorn #rowaelin au #rowaelin #angst #oof #this hurt #queen of shadows #kingdom of ash

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showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years

Note

A drabble about what went down between Jacob and the lil girl in the last chapter of Star Wars rip-off? Lol I’m great at remembering names

“Star Wars rip-off” is such a better shorthand than STMTALCTIS and is forever what I shall refer to that fic and its sequel as

-- “What’s your name?”

Jacob wanted to ask her the same thing, plus about twenty-seven other questions about who, what, when, and where they all were, but any sound he thought of making refused to leave his mouth. He was petrified, still staring at the newly introduced member of his captor’s clan that had just done...something to him. Whatever it was hadn’t hurt so he could only assume it wasn’t something too nefarious, not that he appreciated it regardless. Its kind facade still remained even after it set him back down, warmth radiating from every fiber of its gigantic person with the absolutely adoring smile it gave the child who called out for its attention. Sweet eyes and nose boops aside, he refused to take any chances with the unfamiliar creature who housed a plethora of tools and vials and other medical looking materials that did not bode well for tiny specimens like himself. Oh god, what if that’s what he was going to be? What if that’s what this kid was going to be!? While Jacob was still never a hundred percent certain of safe he truly was in his original captor’s company, he at least took comfort in the fact he was primarily surrounded by watch looked like plants and various magnifying tools, relatively harmless stuff that probably wouldn’t be used on him. But this little girl...was she trapped in the same way he was? As a cute little desk pet? Or was she next up on the chopping block before his kidnapper barged in asking for some sort of help to keep the fun going.

A little hand waved inches from his face, snapping him out of his stupor in favor of focusing on the pouting little cherub face in front of him rather than the giant aliens who were no longer paying any mind to the humans on the desk. In fact, it almost looked like the one who scanned him moments prior was scolding his captor. Good. Asshole deserved whatever it was getting.

“Wh-wha...t?” He swallowed thickly, trying to ease the sting of his dry throat.

She rolled her eyes with all the drama a six year old could muster. “I said what’s your name?” In an instant, her mood switched back to being too bubbly to contain, the excitement at having human interaction making her bounce on her legs again. “My name is Reagan!”

He blinked at her dumbly, eyes shifting from the creatures once more before settling on Reagan. “...J...Jacob...”

“Hi Jacob!” she giggled, her little hands bunching up the insanely poofy skirt of her dress as she jumped up to sway her hips. “Do you wanna play with me? Please? I have a bunch of toys we can use!”

“I-I...” He grimaced at an especially harsh wave of nausea that threatened to climb up his throat. “I don’t th-think I...c-can...”

Reagan’s sweet face pouted at him again and she fell back to sit on her knees just as before. “Aw, okaaay...later? When kitty is working, maybe?”

Kitty. Right. No wonder she wasn’t as freaked out by this whole situation as he and probably nine out of ten other humans were. She was just a kid, a well loved and spoiled one at that if her spotless dress up attire was anything to go by, and now she was surrounded by massive versions of her fuzzy feline friends. Well, part feline. Maybe. But even then, the human features of Reagan’s captor were (admittedly) gorgeous. No wonder she was so delighted to be in this hellhole.

“Reagan, what-” He cleared his throat in an attempt to make his hoarse voice a little more steady, “wh-what has...kitty done to you...?”

She tilted her head. One finger came up to idly twirl one of the springy curls that hung near her cheeks in thought. “Like what?”

“L-like...hurt you...or, or anything...?”

“No, because that’s not nice!” Clearly. Obviously. In reality, it did seem like a pretty stupid question just seeing how well kept the girl was. Somebody had to have been keeping her fed and clean and dressed up, not to mention actually take the time to smooth and curl her natural hair into such pretty styles. “She works but then she plays with me and we snuggle at bedtime and she gives me candies and toys and makes all the dresses that I color and sometimes I get to help her when she cuts up all those gross buggies in her drawer. She’s a good kitty!”

She almost had him convinced until that last part about cutting up things, but all in all it didn’t sound like Reagan was having too terrible of a time. Of course, this entire situation was one massive terrible time for everyone involved, though Jacob wasn’t going to be the one to burst her bubble and explain the true horrors of what was going on. He wasn’t cruel enough to take away her innocence.

Speaking of just how awful everything was, the monsters had decided to put their attention back on the pair, the aforementioned “kitty” chittering something happily with an object pinched between its fingers. Whatever it was, Reagan seemed just as delighted, though he doubted the girl actually understood what was being said to them.

Jacob could only hope this wouldn’t be his last interaction with another human.

#g/t #giant/tiny #macro/micro #gianttiny #g/t writing #my writing #ask #hiddendreamer67 #now and forever tagging things related to that specific fic as #star wars rip off #left it off there since its already implied what they talked about after they were given the food #ylva is such a great catmom #reagan is mibao's real name #she still response to mibao tho since its what ylva says to get her attention #just like ylva response to kitty since its what reagan refers to her as #even if she doesnt know what it means lmao

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the-river-person · 3 years

Note

Any interesting world-building tidbit that wasn't included in your tales? This is a very interesting world you've got

I have three major bits that I desperately wanted to include in the story but never could find the right moment for. 1. (This hilarious dialogue snippet from Gaster and Alphys that never made it into the story but I decided was too funny to not save.) Alphys: (laying on floor) I’m nothing. Not a scientist. Useless. I’m just garbage. Gaster: (glances down at her briefly, looking thoughtful).... you’re recyclable. Alphys: !?!?!?!?!?? 2. I wanted to better explore the area below Waterfall, the deep pits that all the falls plunge down into, where once Alphys stood and considered throwing herself down into. The concept of it was a sort of transformation for Alphys and Undyne. They return to this place that might have been a place of tragedy, and they make it the start of something amazing. The cliffs below were riddled with caves and openings, an entire city carved straight into the rock, with grand staircases that lead down, and elevators that see a lot of use for those who don't want to walk (or can't). Can you imagine the place? Beautiful caves where every window opens up to the underside of the cascading, thundering waterfalls. And because they had hundreds of years to develop it all, the Lower City had gardens and fascinating landmarks to visit, a gallery devoted entirely to the art of Alphys' favorite animes (and oh boy were there some truly gorgeous works there. For some reason there was also a portrait of Mettaton as God and Alphys as Adam in a lovely oil painting that is a sort of imitative transformation piece of Michelangelo's very famous "The Creation of Adam". Nobody really knows who painted it, nor why, but the gallery director informed the public that it was donated anonymously as a gift to commemorate the gallery's Grand Opening.) Because Undyne had a huge part in the City's inception, there ended up being several small schools for various physical activities such as: Wrestling, Ballet, Clogging, Modern Dance, Taekwondo, Spear fighting, Sword fighting, and Water Aerobics. Also one very tiny school for Piano that consisted of Undyne herself and whoever she was teaching to play at their lessons three times a week. Down below are the Depths, the deepest and darkest part of the Underground's caverns. A massive lake that the falls plunge into. Most of its life has been spent without light of any kind, and even now it's still very shadowy. The Lower City of the cliffs sort of spills out between waterfalls to drift around the shore of the lake. But even 300 hundred years later it hasn't all been explored and the Lower City hasn't expanded much more (even with the Underground populous trying their best to spread out, they can't possibly fill every space. I'm working with an upper limit of 1,400-2,000 monsters total in the Underground, with a lower limit of 322 for the souls visible coming from Asriel in the game when he breaks the barrier. Due to the fact that Ghost Monsters were excluded from the soul snatching event, and the fact that there is literally no way to estimate how many spiders are in the Underground, both have been excluded from this counting.) At the far end of the dark lake a lonely outpost sits, home to a very very few monsters who either prefer the total solitude and darkness, or have come there for reasons of science. To study the pools of super-heated water and geysers, or the aquatic life somehow managing to thrive in the pitch black lake that is swimming with garbage from humans and monsters alike, or even geological strata that possesses very interesting formations this far down. There are numerous guidelines in place that prevent Monsters from staying at the Outpost for more than two months at a time for Mental Health concerns. Both Royal Scientists tried (separately) to use their position to override this rule. Undyne was sent to retrieve Alphys and bodily carried her back despite protests, and Queen Toriel herself came to order Gaster back to the Upper Underground (there were fireballs thrown before he finally gave up). 3. And finally, I actually fully intended to have a scene in the story where Sans demanded that Gaster tell him exactly how long they spent trapped down there, after all, he's the only one who kept track of it if you recall. But I completely spaced it when it came to writing those last few scenes. So I'll tell you my final calculations here. We know that Determination had a strange effect on the magic of the Barrier. Whenever a Reset happened, time in the Underground would move a tiny bit slower than time outside. The time spent inside the Barrier, counting both the truly ridiculous amount of time wasted in resets by both the Human and by Flowey, as well as the 300 years afterward that this story covers, comes somewhere around the area of 51,967,952,715 years. Or Fifty One Billion, Nine Hundred and Sixty Seven Million, Nine Hundred and Fifty Two Thousand, Seven Hundred and Fifteen. An insane amount of time. What’s my explanation for how the minds of various characters remained intact? Well, Gaster spent long long periods of time sleeping. He wasn’t fully himself yet as his assistants hadn’t managed to collect enough pieces of him. So unstable and having a warped perception of time kept him from actually going insane, instead letting him sleep for centuries at a time. Sans actually didn’t start to become fully aware until quite a long ways into the resets, and then spent a while trying to figure out what was going on, fought with everything he could for a while in endless genocide routes, and then eventually lost hope entirely and sort of... went on automatic for a long time before he woke up enough to change something (a single question was all it took). And Flowey stayed in a similar state for thousands of years, quietly repeating the exact same conversations, the same actions, the same patterns. The only times he was even aware enough to notice the passage of time was when something new happened. These are not in any way realistic ways of reacting to such a vast period of time. From what science we understand about the brain, it would barely last more than a couple hundred years at the very most, but probably less than that. And that’s if you can keep it in perfect condition without any decay. Memories would begin to go long before that, only fragments remaining and the brain keeping only what is relevant to you now. But lots and lots of old stories depict supernatural and magical beings as sleeping for centuries in forgotten temples, under castles, in sealed magical caverns, in caves on beds of treasure, and a thousand other variances. So I wanted to explore that in the way of a part of the Monster Soul that would act as a self defense mechanism to the Mind of the Monster who was somehow living and living and living without possibility of dying and needed to be able to stay sane throughout that. So it either makes them sleep, or in severe circumstances it can put them on a sort of automatic mode where they repeat a sequence ad infinitum. Both have their roots in folklore, but the way it works is my own interpretation of the idea. Outside the barrier, however, is a different story. The full total of time that has passed out there is 10,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000. Known as Duotrigintillion, or also as one Googol. While the Underground got slower and slower and slower, the rest of the Universe continued on at its usual pace. The planet earth was destroyed by the Sun going into its Red Giant Phase, and then it became a White Dwarf. Then a Black Dwarf. Galaxies and super-galaxies went slowly dark, matter was dissolved or eaten by black holes, even black holes eventually began to decay due to Hawking Radiation. And because the light, garbage, and air being let into the Underground were the exact same stuff that was being let in at the beginning and was just on repeat forever, the Monsters never noticed. It was only when a run went on a little longer than usual, when the Barrier started trying to correct itself by syncing up time again, when you could see the darkness beyond. A darkness without stars and without life. Only cold and shadow, forever. The absolute and inexorable Heat Death of the Universe. Is it the only Universe in the Multiverse that has lived its full possible lifetime from beginning to end? Possibly. Ink would know. Whatever the case, its certainly a very very old Universe indeed (It probably is one of several branches off the original Universe, a stray timeline become a Universe in its own right).

#aeontale asks #aeontale #asks #ask #feel free to ask #worldbuilding #worldbuilding tidbits

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featherymalignancy · 4 years

Note

I live for literally all of your works but one of my favorite things so far is the incorporation of ToG characters in In Vino Veritas! Rowan and Cassian’s friendship is something I never knew I needed in my life

YAY! I was so nervous if the cross-over was going to work but I decided to go for it and I’m really pleased with the way it turned out. Also in conceiving how they all know each other, this insanely clear story about Rowaelin’s origin story went down, so see below to get a sneak peak! 🏐 🍺 ♥️

Rowaelin One-Shot: First Look

This story takes place four years before In Vino Veritas. It’s also my first TOG fic, though you’ll recognize a familiar ACOTAR face or two! It will be NSFW, and it will also be published ??? (aka sometime after the next chapter of LaLH!)

**also a quick note, I sometimes change physical details about characters because canon isn’t the boss of me. If a character’s appearance is slightly changed or they are coded as a person of color when they weren’t explictly denoted as such in canon, I assure you those are conscience choices. You’re been...warned? Advised? Idk, I just wanted to give you a heads-up, it’s all intentional! ♥️

The Eyes of Texas

Rowan Whitethorn—a Navel academy graduate and recently discharged second lieutenant—takes a break from studying of the police academy exam in Los Angeles to fly back to his native Hawaii and compete in a twos volleyball tournament with his ex, one of the best sand players on the amateur circuit.

Beyond Remy’s devious machinations to win Rowan back, the biggest impediment to victory is the so-called Ashryver twins, a pair of cousins from Miami with a reputation of their own. Rowan can’t help but admire the gorgeous and sharp-tongued Aelin Galathynius, who’s more than ready to give Remy a run for her money—both on the court and in the race for Rowan’s affection.

The Eyes of Texas SNEAK PEAK

“I can’t believe you voluntarily chose to play with her,” Fen said with distaste, watching as Remy stalked off, huffing. “She is a fucking nightmare.”

“Here, here,” Cash said, and Rowan rolled his eyes.

“We’ve been playing together forever,” he protested. “And Remy know we aren’t...seeing each other anymore.”

“Does she?” Lor drawled. “Just because you’re not banging her right now doesn’t mean she’d done with you, Whitethorn. Remelle St. James is not a girl you can just walk away from.”

“We’re twos partners, not soulmates,” Ro said. “And if playing with Remy means winning this tournament, I don’t really care what you jackasses think of it, or of her.”

“Her sets cannot be worth it,” Lorcan drawled, sounding bored.

“She’s the best amateur female player in this tournament,” Rowan snapped back.

“Please,” Fen said. “She’s barely top three.”

“And who’s number one, then?”

Fen grinned, dark eyes fiendish.

“You haven’t heard? There’s a chick here from the University of Texas, and apparently she’s—“

“Holy shit,” Cash interrupted, eyes skating over Rowan’s shoulder. “Who is that?”

Rowan turned in time to watch the hottest woman he’d even seen sauntering towards them. She was taller than average—easily pushing six feet—and corded with a sleek musculature that would have heralded her as a volleyball player even if they weren’t at a tournament. Her gorgeously tanned legs went on for an eternity, and he felt his mouth go dry at seeing the minuscule bikini bottoms she wore, the burnt orange Lycra hugging a toned ass that told him she probably had a damn good vertical. Her long blond hair was pulled into a high ponytail and braided in the popular style, and when she turned to smirk at him in a flash of pearly teeth and dazzling blue eyes, he felt a little weak.

“Goddamn,” Cash said, interrupting Rowan’s reverie. “She is gorgeous.”

“That’s her,” Fen said. “The Texas chick, Aelin Galathynius. Ro, I hope you and Remy can pull it together for this match. Otherwise this girl is gonna fuck you up.”

They all watched as she trotted onto the court, stretching in a way Rowan was afraid was going to make his board shorts too tight.

“Holy shit, I want to marry her,” Cash said, and Rowan felt a prickle of irritation.

Before he could address it, or—more realistically—dismiss it, Lor gave an unimpressed snort.

“She’s too tall.”

“I don’t understand how a guy pushing seven feet can have a maximum height restriction for the women he dates,” Fen said.

Lor only shrugged with a smirk, but Rowan was barely listening. He felt another twinge of displeasure zip down his spine as he watched a muscular blonde frat star stride onto the court towards the Galathynius girl, who beamed at seeing him.

“Who is that?” He asked, trying to sound bored. “Her boyfriend?”

“Cousin,” Lor said, expression gloriously bored. “Aedion Ashryver. I played him in a tournament in Miami last year. He’s one of the best hitters I’ve ever seen.”

“High praise, coming from you,” Fen said, earning only a sneer in response.

They watched as Ashryver took several exploratory swings, Aelin working our her wrists. Rowan admired her form as she gave her cousin a perfect set and he crushed the ball into a sand on a punishing downward trajectory.

“Nice hands,” Cash said, eyes alight with appreciation as she shot a quick set to Aedion to a similarly successful result.

“I can block him,” Rowan said, trying to read Aedion’s form for flaws. “He’s swinging hard, but he’s hit that same spot every time.“

“That’s not going to be enough on its own,” Lor said dryly. “Your best bet is to force Galynthius to receive first then shut her down on the block. I bet her swing is weak.”

Rowan nodded, trying to get his mind right as Remy headed back towards them, jerking her head towards the court to indicate they needed to to warm up as well.

“Good luck, champ,” Fen said. “Make sure you find out if she’s single for Cash.”

Rowan flipped him off and jogged onto the court, trying to ignore the way Aelin Galynthius’s eyes raked him appreciatively as he passed her.

YAY!! Can’t wait to hear what y’all think, and if this sounds good to you, please tell your friends! Look for The Eyes of Texas, coming soon!

#rowaelin #throne of glass #rowan x aelin #rowaelin modern AU #rowaelin smut #in vino veritas

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derl30 · 3 years

Text

ALTERED STATES REVIEW TIME!

OK, this tumblr is, today, a vehicle for me to review ALTERED STATES. And you (the one person who stumbled on this review two-hundred years from n- oh who am I kidding, when the aliens from A.I. who show up to thaw out Haley Joel Osment and the teddy bear who was the real hero of that movie find this) should be very excited about this. Because this movie is insane. And highly entertaining.

Yes, the movie poster looks like ass. If I told you this was a movie where William Hurt (not the William Hurt from that awful 90's Lost in Space remake, or the one who slept through an entire performance as Duke Leto in the Syfy miniseries of Dune. This is before the body snatchers got him) took ayahuasca and got in a isolation tank and it blew his mind so hard he started devolving into a neanderthal and creating dimensional portals and he couldn't stop because he was addicted to finding the truth of existence... Well you wouldn't get that from this poster, would you? So let's move on. Shall we?

The film opens in 1967 with William Hurt's character, psychopathologist Edward Jessup, already immersed in a sensory deprivation tank, whilst his colleague and “buddy” Bob Balaban (he's just Bob Balaban in everything I'm not giving you his character's name look it up yourself if it's bugging you so much) oversees.

Now, you may notice I put buddy in quotes. The reason for that is that Jessup is a self-obsessed ass who seemingly has no reason to be around other people unless he can expound to them one of his various monologues. Bob Balaban barely gets a word in edgewise throughout the entire film. Bob Balaban.

See, Jessup loves the sensory deprivation tank experience. Unsurprisingly, as it allows him to be completely alone with himself for hours.

Later, at perhaps the lamest party ever, a bunch of faculty are chilling out and listening to the Doors. Everyone we see is talking about Jessup. Why? Well, much as Jessup is obsessed with himself, everyone else seems to follow suit by being obsessed with him. One young woman, Emily, (Blair Brown) is introduced to him in this very shot below as he arrives at the party:

Notice how is framed in holy light? There is a closeup after, of him framed in blinding glowing light followed up with a zoom in on Emily's face, enraptured with this incredible dynamic man. So much so that the moment he tries to make a goddamn sandwich she starts grabbing his celery (get your mind out of the gutter) and flirting with him. Which for these two that means talking science, immediately. Talking more at each other than with each other. This is often the way with Paddy Chayefsky's scripts.

PAUSE

Paddy Chayefsky is doubtless one of the great American writers for the screen. He wrote Marty, The Hospital and Network (which is a fucking incredible piece of work). He got an Oscar for all three. He also wrote this movie (Altered States, remember? Good lord) and disowned it completely three weeks in to production. His scripts tend to have very intelligent, driven characters at the center, who monologue extensively at each other. These scripts are not attempting to sound naturalistic.

Ken Russell, however, directed the film. He, like Chayefsky, is top notch at what he does (Direct. I said he directed the film like a second ago, come on keep up). His films, like Women in Love, The Devils, (which was banned in several major countries upon release and has never been shown publicly in its full, uncut form (by the way it's a masterpiece)) the Who's Tommy, Gothic, and Lair of the White Worm are all fucking gonzo nuts. I mean like, when you gave this guy the reins, you were going to Overthetopsville and there will be no stops on this trip. And god bless! I love directors who GO for it!

You're getting the chance to make a movie. Stop hemming and hawing and hit me over the head with what you want to say! Film is a visual medium, USE IT!

I feel I might have made my feelings clear here. So, moving on...

Ken Russell and Paddy Chayefsky immediately started butting heads, right from the start. Chayefsky was a BIG deal, and he wanted control over the picture in a BIG way. Ken would listen to his suggestions on everything to lighting and set dressing, and politely tell him, “No.”, and continue being the director of the film. Chayefsky hated him pretty quickly.

He had much more control over films like The Hospital. Which, if you watch The Hospital, well, it shows. You've got great actors (George C. Scott, Dame Diana Rigg (Dame may be the greatest official title of all time)) saying great dialogue. But its just two very witty bitter people sort of expounding on topics and speaking at each other and suddenly admitting they are in love and discussing what drapes they will have to buy for their new home. It's utterly preposterous, and it doesn't work in the way Sidney Lumet got it to work in Network, by literally making one of the lead characters realize his life is turning into a ludicrous soap opera.

So of course Ken tried to humanize, naturalize, the dialogue sequences. And it works! The film feels more human than the Hospital or Network. Despite the fact that Jessup is literally becoming more and more inhuman throughout the film. One of the ways he does this is by having the character's eat, drink, and work on other things during the dialogue sequences. This is perfectly normal in film, it's called giving the actor “business” to do, during the scene. Chayefsky HATED this. “They are mumbling my precious dialogue! Chewing through it! Sucking it through a straw!” Sorry, Chayefsky buddy. It works for the picture. Chayefsky also felt the actors were too emotional with his dialogue. Right. See, they call that acting.

UNPAUSE

Which brings us back to the first meeting of Emily and Jessup at the party. They are eating during this important scene! I can just picture Chayefsky seeing this, and running to the studio brass to tattle and get Ken Russell fired (as he got Arthur Penn of Bonnie and Clyde fame fired before Ken Russell came on board).

Emily and Jessup are, true to Chayefsky form, extremely intelligent, driven people and hearing them discuss topics such as anthropology and schizophrenia is quite interesting. It's just that what is to come, film being a visual medium, will eclipse just about any dialogue, no matter how good, from our mind thingys.

The two give up on the science talk and go straight to banging on her couch. After, she asks what he was thinking about. His answer is priceless. “God. Jesus. Crucifixions.”

She smiles.

Bwahahaha! Oh Paddy Chayefsky, you sure know women.

He admits he used to have religious visions. She listens to him from the sweaty couch whilst he sits naked on the floor, and starts going on about his father's horrible death of cancer and his loss of faith. And he admits to her that he's a nut. Her response is to call him a fascinating bastard. I think Lucas may have taken notes for Padme and Anakin.

So naturally, they get married immediately.

But none of that matters because Jessup gets back in the sensory deprivation tank and has his first vision. A nightmare of his dying father and lost faith in christianity. It's pretty great, filled with foreboding hospital rooms, his father's face being covered in a burning Shroud of Turin, everything covered by horrible blood red clouds and then THIS FUCKING THING SHOWS UP AND ITS ALIVE AND WRIGGLING

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!

excuse me...

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!

The many-eyed goat is slaughtered over a gold bible and suddenly Jessups screwing Emily again and we enter a blood vessel looking thing and the vision ends and he never mentions this again. Oh. Okay,

Emily continues on about what a nut Jessup is as they make marriage plans. Her monologue:

“You're an unmitigated madman. You don't have to tell me how weird you are. I know how weird you are. I'm the girl in your bed the past two months. Even sex is a mystical experience for you. You carry on like a flagellant... Which can be very nice, but I sometimes wonder if it's me that's being made love to. I feel like I'm being harpooned by some raging monk in the act of receiving God. (Emphasis mine)

"And you are a Faust-freak Eddie! You'd sell your soul to find the great truth. Well, human life doesn't have great truths. We're born in doubt. We spend our lives persuading ourselves we're alive. And one way we do that is we love each other, like I love you. I can't imagine living without you. So let's get married, and if it turns out to be a disaster, it'll be a disaster.”

It's a disaster.

As in, by the next scene. It starts off happy enough looking, they have kids and people are smiling. And hey, wow it's seven years later! But, well, see, whoops, they are getting a divorce. Well, not they. See, he is divorcing her because he considers the seven years with her a complete waste.

She still loves him, desperately. He doesn't give a shit about her or the kids. He tells Bob Balaban this, straight up. And then starts bugging him about deprivation tanks and Hinchi Indians in South America who have sacred mushrooms that can really fuck you up.

It's at this point you would like for Jessup to be hit by a Mack truck. But the movie continues on. By the way, this is one of the kids he doesn't give a crap about:

That's right. Drew Barrymore's first role is a kid that William Hurt doesn't give a shit about. Something that William Hurt would make a career out of with narcoleptic performances in Lost in Space and Syfy's Dune. So, Emily takes the kids to Africa for her anthropology work while Jessup goes to South America to go deeper into his own creepy mind.

The Hinchi Indians agree to allow him to participate in the drug ritual. They enter their holy cave.

This shot is beautiful. At this point the film becomes increasingly gorgeous. Ken Russell has started to go into overdrive, ladies and gentlemen. Buckle. Your. Seatbelts.

The Indians grab Jessup's hand and cut him, freaking him out. They pour his blood into the drug mixture. They begin to drink. Then he takes a sip. The intensity of the film here has quadrupled. The vision begins, fireworks going off all around him. He sees cave paintings of humans and komodo dragons and this:

The proper life he left behind with Emily. He's convulsing, sweating. The Indians are all around, masked. Snakes. He's laughing in pain. Energy spills from the void. A snake under the parasol strikes and begins to strangle him. He and Emily march toward a nuclear explosion as energy pours from the cut on his hand, becoming a lizard. From within a sandstorm, Emily watches him, naked. Jessup looks at her, entranced, as the soothing sands cover them both, slowly.

It's a beautiful sequence. A perfect film sequence. I can't overstate how strong the vision sequences are from this point forward. Great visual effects work and the madman mind of Ken Russell create something unforgettable, with it's own pace, independent from the rest of the film.

Jessup awakens with a komodo dragon laying before him, ripped to pieces. The Indians and the others all claim he killed it in rage. Jessup remembers nothing, takes samples of the drug to reproduce it, and goes back home.

Back home, Jessup keeps doing as much of the drug as he can and having Bob Balaban record results. They can't up the dosage any more so Jessup hops back in to the self deprivation tank to create a more extreme experience.

In his next session, Jessup states he is having a vision of early man, hunting a deer and killing it. Suddenly he states he is one of them, killing the deer. He begins to grunt like an animal. The two pull him out. He's incredibly pale, blood seeping out of his mouth. He can't speak, and has difficulty breathing. He insists they do an X-ray. It shows that there is a vocalizing lump in the front part of his throat. Jessup claims that his body had begun to revert to a simian state. The medical doctor agrees, stating the throat X-rays looks like that of a gorilla.

Luckily his throat returns to normal. So Jessup finishes up his day by having over a student of his and sleeping with her.

Our hero, people!

At this point we hardly feel sorry for him as his body suddenly begins to twist and bulge in the middle of the night, shifting in and out of neanderthal shapes. It's a horrific sequence, disturbing as hell. You certainly didn't expect the film to shift into body horror.

Jessup feels normal after a while. but sees visions of lava explosions, the birthing of the Earth all around him. Not a good sign.

He goes to pick up Emily from the airport the next day. She asks how he is doing.

“Oh, fine.”

Yeah right.

Emily has been told what Jessup has been doing and is worried, which of course pisses off Jessup even more. The guy is obviously obsessed with reaching the truth and root of existence, much as Emily surmised earlier, and we see he has no fear of even losing his own soul, again true to her word. The only thing that allows us to give a shit about him at this point is that Emily cares for him and she's decent people, okay?

So back Jessup goes into the tank with his ayahuasca or whatever it is. Alone. The tank door opens from the inside.

The hand that pushes it open is covered in thick hair. He's devolved.

Ape-Jessup escapes the tank room and chases a janitor around the building. Again, this scene is fucking freaky as hell. We can't get a good look at this screaming animal that was Jessup.

The janitor gets a guard to help and chases after him into the boiler room, where we finally get a good look at him when he assaults the security guard and escapes.

AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

Ape-Jessup runs through the city at night, making his way to the zoo where he kills a antelope and eats it. The Ape-Jessup sequence goes on way too long, but is nonetheless unforgettable. The makeup is much more convincing than the above picture suggests, and whoever performed Ape-Jessup did an admirable job.

The cops find an unconscious Jessup in the zoo and bring him in. Emily picks him up and questions him. Jessup admits everything that he can remember. He also admits that he probably killed that security guard. And once again doesn't seem to give a shit. Prick. He calls it the most supremely satisfying time of his life.

Even Emily seems disgusted with him. But, she's also fascinated with what he's accomplished. As an anthropologist, his transformation fascinates her. And so, she agrees to help oversee his next session. Big mistake.

Before the big session Emily and Jessup romantically reconnect, and then into the climactic session we go!

Get your popcorn ready!

After a few hours in to the session, the video monitor shows Jessup begin to literally melt apart like goo, reverting to primordial ooze, the very beginning of existence. An attempt to open the isolation tank doors blasts everyone unconscious, as light and energy pour forth. Emily is the only one left. She sees Jessup's life energy pulse from within the tank.

Rain pours down around them. The pipes on the walls twist and turn like jelly. The ground is covered with a pool of swirling fog and energy. Emily advances toward the vortex of the tank.

In the emptiness of the beginning of everything, Emily seizes the energy before her and reconstitutes Jessup.

They take him home. While he sleeps, Emily rages over the fact that she loves such a insane bastard, and can't get over him. And, then, after Bob Balaban leaves, leaving Emily alone, Jessup wakes up.

He sweetly admits that the truth he learned was that there was no learnable truth, just unknowable horror, and all that's real is human experience. And he'll be a good boy from now on. Well too bad!

Because that horrible truth isn't done with him, and it's back to goo-Jessup! Emily tries to help him, grabbing him, but this in turn effects her, turning her into a shimmering lava form of herself. Both of them begin to self-destruct as Jessup, enraged, watching her in pain, struggles to retake his humanity, slamming himself into the wall, reforming himself through sheer will and physicality. He grabs her and brings her back, mirroring what she did for him during the final session. They embrace naked in the hallway. He finally admits, “I love you, Emily.”

Fade to credits.

Awww true love!

What can I say to sum up? Awesome 80's practical effects. Genius wacko go-for-it Ken Russell directing. Out of this world vision sequences. A awake and actually remarkable performance from William Hurt. An occasionally turgid but often fascinating script by the ever ornery Paddy Chayefsky. Whats not to like?

Well, the ending is a little rushed. The ape sequence goes on for a little too long and takes up perhaps too much of the films overall running time. The central love story is, well... a little hard to swallow, but hey, I guess there really is somebody out there for everyone. Even self-absorbed, deadbeat, cheating, sensory deprivation loving, ayahuasca dropping, Harvard teachers with a messiah complex!

And on that note, aliens from A.I. Artifical Intelligence, have a good day, and don't leave poor Teddy alone with no one to keep him company!

Sayonara!

#altered states #ken russell #movies #review #funny?

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bobasheebaby · 4 years

Text

At Last- Following Her Heart Wedding

Pairing: Athena x Perceval

Word count: 5,613

Warnings: tear jerking fluff, drama, 🍋

Summary: Athena and Percy finally have their wedding.

A/N: I know. I know, about time, don’t worry any gaps in the story will be filled in with time. After this we shall be moving forward to babies in a new series that features them married and expanding their family since my muse is showing that more clearly than the lead up.

A/N2: Leo’s ceremony borrowed from PB, my own twist added. Vows are completely mine.

A/N3: prompt is from the Grey’s Anatomy prompt list requested by @loveellamae 12 “You were like coming up for fresh air. It’s like I was drowning and you saved me.” — Derek Shepard Percy prompt will be bolded.

A/N4: the beautiful commissioned artwork at the end was done by the insanely talented @somewillwinthank you so much for the gorgeous pictures that capture my couple so perfectly. (Pictures definitely helped me finish this too.)

A/N5: a HUGE thank you to @loveellamae for prereading and to @sirbeepsalot for prereading, being my cheerleader along the way and being the best damn beta reader ever! Love you boos!

A/N6: Written as part of @choicesmaychallenge hosted by @kinda-iconic for day 16 Sunset.

Let me know if you want to be added or removed from the taglist.

Disclaimer: I only own Percy, Alex and Bailey, the rest I’m borrowing from PB.

Athena turned to face Percy as the first streak of color kissed the sky. Purples, pinks, and oranges painted the sky, the brilliant colors reflecting across the ocean as they joined hands.

She beamed at him, her caramel eyes sparkling in the light of the tiki torches that lined the silk runner marking her aisle. He looked at her with such love and devotion that tears pricked at her eyes. This is it.

Everything she’d been through, conquered, and endured led her to this very moment. From the second she stepped onto the private plane her future was uncertain. There had been a chance that she would become a queen and rule beside a kind and benevolent king. There had been a time when she believed they were in love and that she belonged by his side. She had thought she’d lost her only chance at true happiness the night he called another woman’s name.

It was now clear to her that each and every step had her here, to him.

Every moment of pain dissipated as she stared into his twinkling hazel eyes. Nothing else mattered. She was where she belonged. Every tear she shed in hurt or anger was worth it in the end.

It no longer mattered that the importance of his title had been thrust upon them as they planned their special day. Everything was as it was meant to be. She was finally following her heart and marrying the man who saw her for her and not what she could be by his side.

She lightly squeezed his hand as she turned toward Leo, a groomsman turned officiant at the last minute. It was a change that might leave any other bride reeling; for her, it felt fitting. Nothing had gone according to plan since she stepped on Cordonian soil. A wedding officiated by a friend seemed more intimate and felt right.

This is going to be fun. Her eyes leveled with Leo’s sea green. Far from perfect, yet perfectly us. She stifled a laugh when he winked as he started to address the crowd.

“I know I don’t spend as much time in Cordonia as I used to, but for an occasion like this, I was happy to return home. Today, I’m here to help celebrate the wedding of Athena Morgan, and my close friend Perceval Hunter, the man who’s lucky enough to wed her. Originally I was meant to be in the wedding, but shit happens and I was more than happy to step in for my lifelong friend. Someone had to marry them, might as well be me.

Enough about me, let’s get to the marrying part, shall we?

There are many different wedding traditions around the world … some that involve more leaping over fire pits than others. But at its heart, every wedding is about one thing: the love between a couple and the bond they have chosen to share.

Here in Cordonia, we like to think of marriage as a promise. The promise that you will renew your love and commitment to one another every day that you are together.

Just as planting a seed is not enough for it to grow into an apple tree, speaking your vows is not enough for a marriage to truly flourish. But if you nurture and cherish one another, your relationship will always grow stronger.”

Percy gently squeezed Athena’s hand as they both nodded, turning to face one another.

“Good. Now, I believe you wanted to recite your own vows.”

Percy’s thumb brushed across Athena’s knuckles as she started to speak. “Percy, meeting you was purely by chance, but the stars truly aligned the day that brought you into my life.” She glanced down at their joined hands.

“When I met you, I was questioning every decision I ever made since coming to Cordonia. What I had thought was a sure thing had unraveled. I had been ready to leave but something kept me here. I know now that it was you.”

She smiled as he mouthed ‘I love you’ while giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.

“That night on the train you claimed my heart. You were the piece of me that had always been missing; finding you has made me happier than I could ever put into words.

Each day with you is a new adventure I will never forget. I vow to cherish every moment we share over the years and to love you more each and every day.

I’m so thankful you came into my life and that I get to call you my husband.”

“That was beautiful.” Leo smiled, nodding to Perceval.

“Athena, when we met I felt a spark that I never thought I’d ever feel. You called yourself broken, but I have only ever seen you as strong and courageous.

I’ve always called you my Doll, and I led you to believe that it was because you were broken that night, that couldn’t be farther from the truth. I saw a woman who carried a strength within her, a woman who deserved to be cherished. I have never been as drawn to someone as I am to you.

You make me the happiest I’ve ever been, and I’m the luckiest man in the world to have your heart. I promise to only make you cry tears of joy. I will strive every day to make you feel as cherished and loved as you deserve.

No matter what the future brings, I can’t wait to experience it with you by my side.”

“Thank you both. Now, would the ringbearer please come forward.”

Chance yipped as he stood from his resting place by Percy’s feet. He took the few steps forward to Leo before carefully dropping the tulle bag into his outstretched hand.

“Thanks buddy.” Leo said, patting Chance’s head.

Chance gave a happy bark before he trotted back to Percy’s feet, where he plopped down, resting his head on the sun warmed sand.

Athena softly laughed at Chance as she delicately plucked the warm vintage band from Leo’s palm. Chance quickly becoming attached to Percy was one of the many reasons she found it so easy to let down her guard and let him into her heart. She couldn’t help but wonder, if Maxwell had not begged her to take in the abandoned corgi would she have still followed the same path? Was she always meant to be standing here in front of the man that swept her off her feet and helped piece her shattered heart back together?

“Perceval Hunter, do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife? Do you vow to love her, comfort her, and cherish her, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in times of joy and in times of trial, till death do you part?”

“I do.”

“Athena Morgan, do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband? Do you vow to love him, comfort him, and cherish him, for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in times of joy and in times of trial, till death do you part?”

“I do.”

Athena carefully slipped the vintage golden band onto Percy’s finger, the deep etchings and five small diamonds glinting in the light of the flickering flame as the sun slowly sank below the horizon.

Percy held her hand in his left as he slowly slipped the diamond band onto her finger. The seven diamonds creating a gentle, sparkling curve in the waning light. The band wasn’t a perfect match to his mother’s ring, but would compliment it well enough. While she felt honored that he loved her enough to give her his mother’s ring the rings were mere symbols of their love. The old and new would blend perfectly no matter what, maybe she’d pass them both down one day.

Athena glanced at her hand adorned with the rose gold ring, her smile stretched as she imagined her heirloom teardrop ring sitting in front of it. She once again locked eyes with Percy, her husband, unshed tears shined back at her matching her own.

“By the power vested in me by the kingdom of Cordonia, I now pronounce you husband and wife. May this blessed union be sealed with a kiss!”

She tenderly cupped his bearded cheek the world around them melted away. The man who really saw her now finally hers in every sense of the word, and she was his.

Her head tilted up, her lips meeting his in a soft, love-filled kiss that echoed every word they spoke to each other and every unspoken word held in their hearts. They pulled apart, her hand slipping into his as the sounds of cheering filtered into her reverie from their guests mixing with the roar of the waves meeting the shore.

They made their way down the aisle in the sand, Chance happily trotting behind them. It was impossible to miss the one solemn face amongst the happy crowd of friends and loved ones. She felt a small twinge at the pain etched in his face. She looked up at Percy, unwilling to allow her happiness to be dampened. One glimpse of Percy’s smiling face and all pain instantly melted away; she was exactly where she belonged.

Athena’s eyes crinkled as she beamed at the photographer taking pictures of her and Percy in multiple poses; Chance sat firmly at their feet.

The photographer looked down at his digital screen. “Could we get a few shots without the dog?”

Athena laughed. “You’d have better luck rubbing sandpaper on a tiger's ass than getting Chance to leave Percy’s side willingly.” She instantly thought of the first night they’d spent together. They’d fallen asleep talking as they waited for Chance to fall asleep. Percy’s patience and understanding when dealing with the corgi was merely one of a million reasons he captured her heart.

The photographer sighed. “Okay, then. Can we have the groomsmen and bridesmaids?”

Athena’s eyes grew wide and her smile dropped a bit as Maxwell came towards them with the grey top hat he promised he’d only wear during the reception settled on his head. “Maxwell! Top hat!”

Maxwell looked at her sheepishly as he pulled the top hat off. He slowly moved to place it on a chair. “Can’t I just take one picture with it?” He looked at her with puppy dog eyes. “Please little blossom?”

Athena let out a sigh. “One picture …”

“Yay—”

“At the end.”

Maxwell made a show of slumping his shoulders in defeat as he laid the hat on the seat. “Okay fine,” he agreed as he joined the group, a smile once again present on his face.

The photographer snapped away, pictures of the entire wedding party, the groomsmen with the bridesmaids, groomsmen, bridesmaids, a few of just Athena staring off at the water. With the last of the natural light waning, he called the maid of honor and best man forward.

Alex smirked as he slipped his arm around Bailey. “Looks like it’s just you and me, Red.”

Bailey forcibly rolled her eyes. “I’m not the only redhead here, you know.”

“Only one I’m interested in, besides she looks a little … preoccupied.” He replied, his eyes falling on Olivia, who was thoroughly engrossed with her phone.

“I already told you I’m seeing someone.”

“Are they here? Would love to meet the lucky guy or gal that caught your eye.”

Bailey swallowed. How was she supposed to answer that? They were both there, but not with her. Drake couldn’t date her publicly and, since the trip to Applewood, Liam had taken her out less and less. She hadn’t been to a public event with him since the Homecoming Ball.

She understood -- or that’s what she kept telling him. Maybe it was herself she was telling. He had just made a public admission of his love for her cousin, who was now married to another man. Liam had to tread carefully for all three of them. A relationship held within palace walls was becoming tiresome, but she still cared deeply for both. She could endure.

She gave a soft, hopefully not too forced smile. “No, he couldn’t make it.” The lie twisted in her gut, but she couldn’t tell him the truth.

Alex hummed in response and she noticed his hold on her waist loosened. “His loss.”

She just nodded, fearful she might backtrack and admit the truth.

“Just one dance.”

She looked up at him in surprise.

“A beautiful woman like you shouldn’t have to stand by on the sidelines just because her boyfriend was too busy.”

The words felt like a gut punch. He wasn’t too busy, they just weren’t official. Was that the word? He told her every day he loved her -- they both did -- yet they all came to the wedding as ‘singles’.

Maybe she could dance with Liam, but she knew they’d both feel guilty about Drake the entire time. Drake didn’t dance, or maybe he did since college, but even so their minds would remain elsewhere.

Her other options were Leo, who seemed to be having an argument with his wife on the phone, and Maxwell. Maxwell was sweet, but she knew she’d never be able to keep up with him on the dance floor.

Her sage green eyes met his olive green. She gulped, the look in his eyes could nearly rival the one Perceval had when he looked at Athena. “Okay, one dance.”

Percy led Athena to the portable dance floor that was laid out on the soft sand as the opening notes began to play.

At last

My love has come along

My lonely days are over

And life is like a song

They gracefully glided around the floor in perfect step. Her caramel eyes sparkled with love as she looked up at him. “This is all like a dream. To think that you talking to me that night would save me.” She shook her head. “Thank you for really seeing me.”

“I should be thanking you. You saved me.” He twirled her out pulling her closer once she returned to his arms.

Oh yeah yeah

At last

The skies above are blue

My heart was wrapped up in clover

The night I looked at you

She looked up at him with questioning eyes. “How did I save you?”

“I was a bachelor partly by choice. Most of the women I dated had a different idea of what it meant to be noble. It was all status to them. You were like coming up for fresh air. By the time I met you, I’d resolved to never getting married. You get me in ways that no one else did. It’s like I was drowning and you saved me.”

I found a dream, that I could speak to

A dream that I can call my own

I found a thrill to press my cheek to

A thrill that I have never known

Her eyes sparkled with unshed tears. “Why don’t we just say we saved each other?”

He smiled. “I like that.”

He playfully dipped her, both laughing and smiling as he pulled her back into his arms. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” She tilted her head up, giving him a tender kiss.

Oh yeah yeah

You smiled, you smiled

Oh and then the spell was cast

And here we are in heaven

For you are mine ...

At Last

Athena blushed as they pulled apart as she suddenly remembered all eyes were on them.

The sound of silverware clinking against crystal filtered through the air, drowning out the soft sound of the waves kissing the shoreline a few yards down the sand. Athena’s cheeks tinged pink as she looked to her husband, her stomach flipped at the thought. A year ago she would have never thought she would be across the ocean and married to a man who made her feel like she was walking on air.

As much as she loved kissing him, doing so on command felt strange. She smiled as Percy tucked a stray curl behind her ear. He rested his palm on her cheek as he leaned down, planting a chaste kiss on her lips.

“I love you,” he whispered as he leaned his forehead against hers, his eyes staring into hers.

“I love you too.” Her fingertips brushed across his bearded cheek. “Everyone is watching.”

“Let them.” He replied giving her another peck on the lips before reluctantly pulling apart.

“Okay you two lovebirds.” Alex chuckled, sending Percy a wink. “Save it for the wedding night.” He raised his champagne flute. “I’d like to propose a toast.”

Athena bit back a giggle; she was sure Tabitha was fuming somewhere in the crowd at Alex’s impromptu toast.

“I’ve known Perceval for a long time, since the day I met him back in boarding school he has always been the kind of guy you could count on. He was always down to Earth and hated the title he was born to, even if it got us both out of trouble with the dean.

The one quality he always said he wanted in the person whom he married was someone who could see past all the etiquette and titles and see who he really is. You don’t need to spend much time with Perceval and Athena to see that she does in fact see him for who he is, regardless of title.

Athena, I have spent more than half of my life being friends with Perceval, and I have never seen him as happy as he is with you. I wish you both a long and happy union full of love and joy. To the bride and groom.”

Athena lifted her champagne flute as the sentiments were echoed across the sand.

“I guess it’s me.” Bailey giggled as she stood, brushing down her knee length skirt. She turned to face the newlywed couple, smiling at her cousin with tears in her eyes.

“Athena, you are my cousin and best friend; more than that, you are my sister. You have always been happy, but, when Uncle Nick and Aunt Pat died, I noticed your eyes didn’t shine as brightly until you met Perceval.

Perceval, you are the kind of man I always pictured Athena marrying; you are kind and caring and you love my cousin completely. I know that with you by her side that her smile will never falter.

While Uncle Nick and Aunt Pat can’t be here today I know in my heart that they would be proud of the woman you’ve become and welcome Perceval to our family with open arms.

So welcome Perceval. I wish you and Athena all the love and happiness in the world. To a long and blessed union.”

Damnit Bailey. I told you not to make me cry. Athena thought blinking back tears welling at her cousin's words. She took a second small sip of the dry champagne before setting the flute back onto the table.

“You okay?”

She looked to Percy as his hand covered hers. “I’m fine, you worry too much.”

Athena looked up as Tabitha tapped her shoulder. “It’s time for the cake cutting.” Tabitha said, smiling sweetly.

Athena looked back at her barely touched meal. Between speaking with guests and the million excited butterflies swarming in her stomach, she’d barely been able to enjoy the menu Percy had planned. She turned back to Tabitha, taking Percy’s outstretched hand. “Okay.” I’ll just eat later when things calm down a bit.

Athena and Percy stood in front of their three tier buttercream frosted cake. The adorning fresh roses almost seemed to sparkle under the twinkling fairy lights. She glanced up at him as the cake knife glided through the cake.

Everything still felt so surreal; the entire day was like she was floating on a cloud. All the tears she spilled during the planning of their wedding no longer mattered. Their day was here, and it was everything she dreamed of.

She picked up a bite of cake turning to Percy, her husband. Her cheeks hurt from grinning so widely all day. She held the sweet confection to his lips.

“Smash it in his face!”

She shook her head at Alex’s request.

Nothing could dampen this day. It was utterly perfect; they were finally husband and wife. Even if the heavens opened up and rained down on them she knew she would still look up at him with a smile on her face and love in her heart, laughing at the surprise shower.

She carefully took the delicate bite from his fingers, her eyes closing as the flavors exploded on her tongue. It was as delicious as the day she’d picked it.

“You have a little cake right here.” He said pointing to the corner of her lip.

“Can you get it for me?”

She gently sighed as his arms slipped around her waist and kissed her.

Her heart soared as she envisioned their life together. Their home would be filled with so much joy and laughter.

“Could today get anymore perfect?”

“I have a few ideas …”

“Oh?”

He nodded, his eyes sparkling brightly.

“I’m listening …”

Bailey’s arms hung loosely around Alex’s neck as they swayed on the dance floor. She should have known that Alex would pick a slow song, he didn’t believe she was really dating someone and it wasn’t like she could confess the truth.

The truth. What was the truth? She was with Liam and Drake, or that’s what they said in private. Outside the palace she couldn’t hold hands or kiss either one of them. Liam had taken to avoiding the topic of him dating and his search for a queen, instead pushing reporters to the coming nuptials of Duke Perceval and Athena.

Bailey hadn't missed the way his jaw tensed every time he brought up the wedding, yet he did it time and time again. She couldn’t help but wonder what he would use as a buffer now that the wedding was over. Would he ever introduce her as his girlfriend and potential queen? She glanced up at Alex. Is that what she still wanted?

All this time, had she been subconsciously pulling away from them? Why else hadn’t she voiced her concerns to Liam and Drake?

Bailey quickly looked away, trying to force the unbidden thoughts away. She loved Drake and Liam, she was just being stupid. She shouldn’t be questioning their feelings for her; they loved her too, right?

She sucked in a breath as she met Liam’s eye. She couldn’t miss the hurt etched on his face even from so far away. Her stomach knotted because she didn’t want to hurt either one of them; she just didn’t like being hidden.

How the hell had Drake handled it for so many damn years? No wonder Athena fell for Perceval. He was available and showered her with affection no matter where they were. He always made her feel loved and cherished . She wanted that, not to be a secret in the night.

She shifted her arms, unconsciously moving closer to Alex. Her heart hammered in her chest as he tightened his hold on her hips. She knew she should pull away, tell him to put more space between them.

Instead, her body leaned in closer, the heat of his body soaking into hers. What was she doing? Tell him it was a mistake, step back.

She tilted her head up, her lips slightly parted to speak. Her head felt cloudy and she lost the ability to speak or even breathe as he leaned down. She needed to step back, push him away, something, anything to stop him but she couldn’t. It was as if her body was frozen, but not in fear. Did she actually want this? Did she want to kiss him? She couldn't want this, she shouldn’t be letting him get so close that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her lips.

Turn your head!! Stop this. Time seemed to slow. Or was he just giving her a chance to stop him?

Why wasn’t she stopping him?

Her breath hitched as his lips inched closer to hers. What was she doing? She was taken -- she already gave her heart away. Push him away, this is your last chance!

His lips were soft and warm as they met hers, and her arms instinctively pulled him closer. It was as though her brain short circuited as all thoughts of telling him this was a mistake ceased. All thoughts left her mind, leaving only the way his palms went flat on her back as he pulled her closer.

Her body was flush to his as they stood still in the center of the temporary dance floor. When had they stopped dancing?

She gasped as his lips pressed harder to hers, their lips moving together in tandem. Her body tingled, every nerve ending alive. What was even happening?

She pressed herself closer to him, acting purely on instinct. His grasp tightened and his tongue swiped against her lip. God, what was she doing? Did she want this more than she thought?

She pulled back, leaving them both stunned. “I … I …” she stuttered stepping backward. Tears stung at her eyes. She wanted it, but she shouldn’t. “I’m sorry.”

His hands fell to his sides as he watched her retreat with wide eyes. “It —”

She shook her head, “I shouldn’t have,” she said as she turned and ran towards the crashing waves.

Alex stood stunned. He could still feel her lips against his. She kissed me back. He wasn’t even sure why he leaned in in the first place. He had every intention of respecting her, it was just a dance between friends. He hadn’t expected her to move closer to him; he hadn't planned on kissing her. It was as if they were drawn to each other much like a moth to a flame.

The moment he leaned in he had been sure she would push him away but she didn’t. Did she want it too? He was pulled from his thoughts as a firm hand gripped his shoulder. He looked up into whiskey colored eyes that flickered as though they were on fire.

“What the hell -- she told you she had a boyfriend and to back off!” Drake growled through gritted teeth. Anger coursed through him and it took everything in him to not deck the piece of shit in the face.

Alex shook the shock from his face. “Maybe instead of getting in my face you should be more concerned with the reason a guy would claim to be too busy to escort someone as great as her to her own cousin’s wedding.”

“She said that?” Drake felt like he’d been hit by a Mack truck. Is that how she feels? Confusion filled his mind. Things had been complicated from the beginning but he thought they were all as happy as they could be given that they remained hidden. Sure, it was hard to pretend she was only a friend, but it’s what they needed to do.

“Yeah,” Alex gave him a cocky grin, “maybe instead of being pissed at me you should go tell off the piece of shit that made her go stag.”

Drake saw red; this asshole had no fucking room to talk. He continuously made unwanted advances towards Bailey and now he wanted to make him and Liam out to be the bad guys?

The pulsing pounding of the blood rushing in his ears was all he could hear as he clenched his fist.

He pulled his fist back, intent on showing Alex what happened when he walked around like a smug arrogant bastard who could have whomever he wanted.

He stepped forward, the anger leaving him as his fist collided with Alex’s jaw.

“Drake! What the hell?!”

Drake shook his head as Liam’s surprised shout reached his ears. “This piece of shit kissed Bailey.”

“What do you care? It’s not like you’re her boyfriend.” Alex's eyes sparkled as he made the simple connection. “I mean, how messed up would that be? Dating her but no one knows.”

Drake stared slack jawed. Did this fucker figure it out? Would this cocky bastard expose them all?

“Besides, it’s not like she didn’t kiss me back.”

Drake and Liam shared a stunned look as both men felt their stomachs sink.

“She what?” Liam questioned trying to make sense of what was unfolding. He’d been surprised when he saw Bailey dancing with Alex, so to hear he kissed her and she returned it had him reeling.

“She kissed me back. Guess that boyfriend of hers can’t keep her satisfied, which is not surprising since he couldn’t be bothered to join her for her cousin’s wedding.”

“Do you want me to hit you again?”

“Sure, maybe it’ll actually hurt this time.”

Drake drew his arm back ready to land another blow, intent of wiping the smirk from Alex’s smug face.

“Drake, stop!”

Bailey’s voice froze him in place.

“What are you doing?” Her heart pounded in her chest. She’d gone to the shore to clear her mind only to be pulled from her mixed up thoughts by the sounds of shouting.

She pulled away because she was scared. Scared of how much she wanted it and how far she’d let it go. Scared of what her jumbled feelings meant for her Drake and Liam. Did they even have a chance anymore? Did they ever truly have a chance when they had to remain hidden?

Drake turned, the hurt in his eyes enough to punch all the air from her lungs. “You kissed him back?”

Shit! She needed to talk to them, to explain all she was feeling, the hurt of being hidden and the confusion that led to her kissing back Alex. That’s gonna be an awkward conversation. As much as she knew they needed to speak, she knew it couldn’t be there with everyone watching. Double shit! The realization that one bad decision had derailed Athena’s wedding weighing heavy on her shoulders.

Thena is gonna be so pissed! Her eyes scanned the guests looking for her cousin. “Where is Thena?”

“Athena and Perceval ducked out before shit hit the fan.”

Percy and Athena stumbled into their room locked in a heated kiss. She wildly clawed at his jacket, pulling the garment down his arms, the linen fabric landing in a heap before the door clicked close.

Since the moment she said ‘I do,’ she felt an intense pull to be claimed by him. Every cell in her body screamed for him to show her, tell her, make her his.

Her fingers threaded in his obsidian locks and she let out a breathy sigh, her head tilting back as he trailed kisses along the slender slope of her neck.

She stumbled backwards, her hands fell to his chest, her fingers frantically undoing his buttons. She was desperate with need. She needed to feel every inch of him pressed against her.

She moaned, her fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt as he peppered kisses across her collarbone and down her chest.

Desire prickled across her skin. “Percy,” she gasped, “I need you ...”

He looked up, the hunger in his eyes mirroring her own nearly taking her breath away. “The bed …”

She shook her head. “Too far.” The few steps to the bed felt like miles; if she waited any longer her desire would surely consume her alive. “Need you now.” Her hands dropped to his belt, fingers nimbly working it free.

He let out a feral growl, his hand gliding over the curve of her hip. His fingers caught the smooth fabric, hiking it over her hipbone as he spun her. Her back pressed into the wall as she shoved his pants down his thighs, his hardened length springing free.

She never felt such overwhelming desire before. She was positive she wouldn’t survive if she waited much longer.

To be skin to skin, his body against hers. Every movement took too long. Each second moving forward at a tortuously slow pace.

His hand ghosted her hip as he gripped the back of her thighs lifting her. She wrapped her legs around his waist, breath catching in her throat as he rubbed against her clothed core.

Please.

Her hands rested on his shoulders as he bunched her dress around her waist. She whimpered as he pushed her white lace thong to the side.

So close, yet still so far. Each passing second only made her desire grow. How much longer could she wait?

Her head fell back with a gasped yes as he slowly inched into her.

She finally felt complete, giving herself over to him entirely.

She clutched to his back as he thrust into her. Her walls squeezing around his length.

Her fingers curved into his back. It felt so good. Did it always feel this good? Was it possible they somehow were more connected?

Her mind swirled, overwhelmed by feelings. Every stroke broughther closer to the edge.

Her back arched and legs shook as she came with a soundless scream, her pulsing walls bringing him to completion.

He brushed her hair back as she looked at him with a dazed expression. “I love you.”

She smiled dreamily. “Love you too.”

He slowly lowered her to her feet, his arms holding her steady. His lips brushed across her sweaty hairline as he kissed her forehead. “Better?”

She nodded, “yes … bath and then round two.”

“Or … round two in the bath.”

“I like the way you think.”

Feedback fuels me, feel free to scream I can take it.

Masterlist can be found in my bio.

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palindromelorich · 4 years

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I’m putting this into the universe to see what sticks.

Joe Alwyn and Queen of Cats Taylor Swift became engaged right around Christmas 2018. Directly after proposing, Taylor could not sleep, got up and went to the piano, wrote Lover in its entirety. Contacted Jack Antonoff about the track, flew to New York the next day, recorded the track. (The latter bit of that we know, because they’ve talked about it in interviews. My real hypothesis comes into play on the events leading up to the writing of the masterpiece track.) I also think this timeframe due to a particular post on IG by Joe, who is notoriously quiet on social media platforms, of him walking through nature with another shadow by his side. It all looks so peaceful—why wouldn’t they want to go and escape the world for a while?

Paper Rings was probably written shortly thereafter, as maybe there was some concern about not giving a large ring (like others, I think the ring in the “cardigan” music video is her wedding ring set) and perhaps the song was penned as reassurance that no matter what kind of ring, Our Cat Lady would love to be by his side. The ring is clearly a family heirloom and honestly is insanely gorgeous—I’ve been looking for something similar myself. We’ve seen this ring before—she was wearing it in the Billboard photoshoot in October 2019, the Tiny Desk NPR Concert in October 2019 (where she removes it as the cameras started doing more intimate shots and simultaneously when discussing what on earth she’ll ever do if she ever “gets happy”, which as far as interview questions go, has GOT to be the worst one other than sexist, nonsensical questions) and I’m pretty sure I spotted it during her SNL performance October 2019 as well.

Now for folklore, we’re presented with outstanding writing and almost entirely imagined stories, but 2 in particular stand out as being very personal to Mother of Cats—invisible string and peace. By this point we’ve all pieced together the clever flip of both the string type and direction of said string. Most of the song is an invisible string tying you to me (Joe to Olivia’s Mother), but in the bridge, it flips. Suddenly we are confronted with one single thread of gold tying me to you (Meredith’s Mom to Joe). (I feel after all these years that nobody commands a bridge quite like Benjamin’s Mama.)

Cut to “peace” (my FAVORITE track from the album. Possibly my favorite of all of her tracks ever). There’s no established rhythm beyond the reverb of the synth, so the words can really take center stage and allow us to see that these. Are. Vows. I’m a fire and I’ll keep your brittle heart warm, I’ll be here for you when you may be experiencing extreme sadness (cascading ocean wave blues). I’ll be here for the good times (swinging for the fences) and the bad (in the trenches). Is it enough? If you stand with me, the rain will always come—our life will never be peaceful, but we can give each other everything else. (Gah, I just really, really love this song.) She references her chosen family now that she sees his brother as her brother, a similar comparison in “the 1” where the chosen family is the family you gain in marriage. “Now that I see your brother as my brother” means they already got married (and I am SO HAPPY).

But now comes the question of “when?” Back to “invisible string” she writes of lunch down by The Lakes for their 3-year trip (end of September/early October, which coincides perfectly with the above events/videos where the ring can be seen). Our missing track is “the lakes”. This track is most certainly going to let us know about a very private, intimate ceremony that took place last fall. I hope it doesn’t also tell us that she’s taking a break from music for a while, but I fully support this decision whenever it comes about. (I say as though my support means anything in the sea of MILLIONS of fans.) Empress of the Meow Kids would want to make sure that Queen Andrea would be able to see her get married, and where better than a remote region in England.

Also, August 7th is when we’ll first learn that they are married. When the track list got released, we all saw that we had “seven” followed by “august”. The album is letting us know when we’re learning their most spectacular news. (I wondered for a moment if this is the wedding anniversary, but I’m certain they had a fall intimate ceremony.) When the album dropped and we could order merchandise and music from the website, we were given the estimate of 2-3 weeks shipping, meaning the first set of CDs with “the lakes” would be arriving in the hands of eager fans on... *drumroll* 7 August. The album now being available to preorder and ship through Target for a delivery starting August 7th only further confirms my thought that we’re getting BIG NEWS on 7 August.

My only final hope is that Meredith, Olivia, and Benjamin were able to attend and participate. Wedding purrty of 3.

ALSO ALSO I love the idea of them just getting lunch down by the lakes after a morning ceremony and a waitress not knowing who she is. No catered party. No over the top ceremony. Simple exchange of vows, probably parents and brothers. And this waitress saw them and thought they looked familiar, but didn’t know why. All these people think love’s for show, but she would die for him in secret. And married him in secret.

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artificialqueens · 4 years

Text

Malibu (Trixya) - DenDenMonMon

Of Lovers, Friends and Everything in Between. Part 4.- Picnic

Title: Malibu Category: F/F Summary: You’ll be fine, when you learn to move slow. Notes: If you are anything like me, you have had Malibu on repeat ever since Trixie released the single, and, since I can’t get it out of my head, well, this story came to life lol Written: Feb 2nd-3rd, 2020.

Malibu

Trixie hated Tinder, or any dating app for that matter.

Being a gay woman turned her into a target in those platforms. She’d lost count of how many men had offered to ‘change’ her, or the amount of couples that wanted to ‘spice things up’ in the bedroom. Those were the kind of comments that made her leave the app, and forget about it for months, until loneliness hit her again. It usually happened during a Friday or Saturday night, when most of her friends were out having fun, and she found herself eating cheese curds alone in her living room, with nothing good to watch on TV. That was when she would go through the cluster of apps she had labeled as ‘useless’, and click on the infamous flaming icon.

When she promised to take care of her family’s beach house for the weekend, she thought it was going to be so much fun. LA people had proven to be wild, and everybody was supposed to be beyond beautiful in Malibu, but, either her standards were too high or she had been lied to her entire life. Profile after profile and she couldn’t find a single soul that called her attention.

Just when she was about to close the app and maybe take care of herself out of pure boredom, an image appeared.

The blonde girl smiled widely at her with insanely white teeth. Her blue eyes pierced Trixie’s, making her feel as if she were drowning in their depths. There was only one picture, and the obligatory name at the bottom said Katya next to the number thirty-four, stating the girl’s age. Trixie didn’t remember having changed the age range on the thing, she never dated anybody more than five years older than her. Everything seemed off, a bit too suspicious. Nonetheless, she clicked the space that would tell her more about the person. Laughing, she finally swiped right when she read the bio, which could be called anything but that.

Take me to the beach somewhere so I can meet my dead dad.

It was a match. Trixie’s first message had been a joke about absent parents and her being alone in the beach house. Katya replied right away. The string of laughing emojis had seemed a bit of an exaggeration but, after a short exchange, Trixie was already inviting her for lunch the next day.

That was the reason why she was preparing a picnic basket, for them to eat out on the sand. Her favorite pink gingham cloth was folded and placed on top of cucumber sandwiches and fresh fruit. Right after she put a bottle of chilled wine in the basket, the doorbell rang.

With a deep sigh, Trixie rubbed her sweaty palms on the skirt of her dress, and checked her hair on the distorted reflection of the fridge. The heels of her sandals resounded loud in the open space of the living room, she liked that, it made her feel extra feminine. As if the pink flowy dress, the many layers of makeup, and the styled curls were not sufficient statement of that.

Even when she had seen the one picture of the girl, she had not been expecting the person that showed up at her front door. Katya was an unconventional kind of absolute gorgeous. She was shorter than Trixie, and her black chucks didn’t help to increase her height. She wore matching black jeans and an oversized gray t-shirt, the round neck of it was slightly darkened with sweat.

“I just drove forty-five minutes on the Pacific Coast Highway, so this better be a good lay,” were the first words Katya pronounced.

Trixie’s eyes widened in surprise. “Oh, wow! I–”

Before she could continue, the girl burst out laughing. Her hand reached to get a hold of Trixie’s forearm as she shook her head. “I’m joking!” Her face suddenly turned serious as her grip turned tighter. “It can be medium good, I’m not picky.” Without giving Trixie a second the reply she was laughing again. “No, I’m just kidding.”

“You are, like… a lot, aren’t you?” Trixie struggled to find words to describe the ball of energy slightly bouncing in front of her. For a moment, she was afraid her unfiltered mouth had insulted the girl she had just met, but luckily it wasn’t the case.

“Oh, Momma! You haven’t seen anything yet,” the girl promised as she let go of Trixie and extended her hand. “Hi, I’m Katya.” The smile that she shot Trixie was brighter than the sun burning above them, and warmer too.

Chills ran down Trixie’s spine as she took Katya’s hand, feeling electricity running through her veins as she shook it. “I’m Trixie. Hello.”

“Oof,” Katya winced, shaking her head and physically taking a step back, away from Trixie. “You need to work on your greeting. That was way too aggressive.”

A scream left Trixie unannounced. She threw her head back in joy as a small ‘you bitch’ left her mouth. She wasn’t complaining, though. Their interaction had been entertaining, to say the least. Trixie could already feel herself liking Katya right from the intro. She invited her in with a smile nailed to her mouth, and a giddy feeling invading her body. It was unlike anything she had felt before, never in her twenty-seven years on Earth had another human made her feel so nervous, yet incredibly comfortable. She was really good at reading people, she could quickly put them in categories and know if they were gonna click or not. Katya was in a category of her own. Trixie, as much as she wanted, couldn’t find a mental compartment where she could place Katya.

The blonde wavy hair bounced with Katya’s steps as she moved around the house. “So, you are rich. I mean, like, Richie Rich rich, huh?” She looked at the expensive furniture, extending and retrieving her hand, almost as if she were scared to touch and ruin anything.

“Not even,” Trixie answered with a roll of her eyes. “My family is, but they always made it very clear that it was their money, not mine.”

Katya nodded, her lips pursing slightly. “Alright. I respect that.” She stopped her examination of the room to look at Trixie. “You’ve got any plans for today?” She stuffed her hands in her pockets, fully indicating she had no idea what to do next.

“I thought we could have a picnic, outside by the water,” Trixie replied proudly, she had thought things through carefully. She started walking, making her way towards the kitchen, wordlessly asking the girl to follow her. “Hopefully, you will like what I made.“ She picked up the basket and looked over her shoulder, just to confirm that Katya was indeed walking right behind her.

“Do-do you have any water?” Katya seemed almost anxious as she asked. “I-I don’t drink,” she said pushing her chin towards the basket, where the neck of a bottle stuck out from.

Trixie quickly apologized for not asking, taking the wine out and putting it on the table. She opened the refrigerator and leaned forward. Her short dress was sure to ride up at the position. She could only hope Katya liked what she saw as Trixie pretended to find something else to drink.

“Would you like some kombucha?” She asked as innocently as possible, noticing how Katya’s eyes bolted back to her face.

“Absolutely not,” Katya spoke punctuating her words. It sounded like she was approving of the beverage until the last word was spoken. “I would rather drink the salt water straight from the ocean than that hipster excuse of a drink.”

With a roll of her eyes, Trixie put the glass bottle back to its place. “It’s really good for you, FYI. It has all these–” she turned around, and stopped midsentence when she noticed Katya was no longer in the room. Stretching her neck, Trixie saw that Katya had walked out through the sliding doors and was impatiently waiting for her.

“Come on!” She encouraged as she started walking, the basket dangling in her hand as she easily carried it with her.

Despite the small shake of her head, Trixie found herself smiling. She followed Katya’s path and reached her just when Katya was done setting the sheet down. Trixie dropped next to her on the pink and white piece of fabric, removed her sandals and extended her legs, hoping to get them at least a little bit tanned. Her hand dug into the basket and took out a small container with grapes, offered them to Katya, who gratefully took a handful, before relaxing on her spot.

“What is it that you do, then?” Katya asked around a mouthful of fruit. “How do you make your own money?”

“I’m a hair and makeup artist,” Trixie said with a smile. She loved her job and could talk about it for hours. Katya, however, didn’t seem like the type of person that could hear about hair and makeup for hours. “What about you? You have like zero information on your profile.” Trixie rested her chin on her own shoulder, squinting to get a better view of Katya, who sat on her heels next to her.

There was a sigh and a groan as Katya physically deflated, before she uttered an actual reply. “I just hate those things, you know? I never know what to say. Like, I can’t say I’m a good person. Good people don’t say they are good people! Honestly, I just wanted to put actual facts like: I’m this old, this tall, I weigh this much, and I’m in this area.”

Trixie tilted her head in wonder. “Are you a kitten up for adoption?”

The sounds that came out of Katya were frightening and charming, all at the same time. It was a genuine laughter that sounded more like an old squeaky toy. She spotted a napkin and tried to throw it at Trixie, but the wind pushed it to land on Katya’s lap instead. They both laughed openly, freely, happily. The conversation flowed easily from that point on. They touched on the most basic topics, from immediate family to likes and dislikes. They ate with the sound of the crashing waves as background noise.

It didn’t take an expert to notice they were complete opposites, but it didn’t bother Trixie. She liked the simplicity with which Katya talked about complex subjects. She would quickly jump from one thing to another, seemingly unrelated, but Trixie was sure there was some connection between topics that only Katya understood. If she could have one wish granted, Trixie would like to see inside of Katya’s head, witness how the information bounced off of the walls of her skull, tangled with the wiring of her brain, before coming out of her mouth at a rapid speed.

Something warm filled Trixie’s chest. She had no idea what it was, but it was a nice feeling. She liked the sense of comfort and instant connection she had with the girl bending in laughter next to her. Trixie wanted to run her hand through Katya’s hair, let her fingers caress those sharp cheekbones, touch every single one of her soft curves and create a mental map of her body. Katya was so beautiful, so smart, so out of her league.

“Why did you agree to meet me?” Trixie suddenly asked without even thinking about it. She sat up straight, realizing she really wanted to know the answer. “Like, I’m clearly not your type, why did you even swipe right?”

The question took Katya by surprise. Her eyes opened wide as she stared at Trixie intensely. Although, Trixie had to wonder if there was anything about Katya that wasn’t intense.

“Okay, first of all, you don’t even know what my type is.” Katya pointed an accusative finger at Trixie before continuing. “I don’t have a type. Never had. I like people, and I like sex even more, preferebly with people.” She extended her hands in front of her, as if highlighting the relation between the two. “Now, about you. I don’t know. I liked your tits, and then you got my Contact reference… I knew I had to meet you after that.” She punctuated the end of her speech with an approving nod.

Trixie’s nose scrunched up. “What reference?”

“The dead dad on the beach one?”

“I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Katya’s mouth opened in surprise. “Contact? Jodie Foster?” She asked, getting a head shake in return to each of her questions. “Didn’t you message me about wanting to meet your dad, who was dead, at the beach somewhere?”

“Yeah, ‘cause I never met my dad, so he’s probably dead, and I’m currently staying in Malibu.”

“Oh, my God!” Katya brought her hands to her hair as she yelled. “I can’t believe this. It’s all a lie. I’ve been tricked. When were you planning to tell me? When–” The rest of the question died on her lips as Trixie’s mouth crashed with her.

It was clumsy at first, Katya wasn’t done ranting, and Trixie was only trying to shut her up. Their faces bumped into each other a couple of times before they both relaxed and finally kissed. Trixie sucked Katya’s bottom lip, biting slightly. The sound that came out of Katya was so sexy that Trixie had to press her thighs together, putting pressure where she needed it the most. The moment didn’t go unnoticed by Katya. Her hands landed on Trixie’s hips, pulling her to a kneeling position. Their torsos pressed together, breasts rubbing to the erratic movements of their heavy breathing.

Trixie felt turned on beyond knowledge, all she knew how to identify were Katya’s lips wrapped around hers. Katya tasted sweet and salty, like the fruit they had shared mixed with the breeze of the ocean. There was an almost unidentifiable flavor, a strong aftertaste that lingered in Trixie’s tongue after it ran against Katya’s.

“Do you smoke?” Trixie asked against Katya’s lips, not breaking the kiss, but pulling away enough to speak.

Katya’s hand ran up Trixie’s thigh, squeezing slightly. “Would you mind if I said yes?”

Gasping to the touch of Katya’s cold hand, Trixie threw her head back. “As long as you don’t…” She lost her train of thought as Katya’s hand went higher. “If you do– oh!” She yelped as a finger ran against her underwear. “God, just fuck me, okay?” Her knees spread, giving Katya better access.

“Not here, though,” Katya spoke as she kissed Trixie’s chin. “This is not exactly a private beach.”

Trixie opened one eye, among the fog of desire she could see the figures of a family playing ball. “Fine. Let’s go inside.”

Taking Katya by the hand, Trixie stood up and started walking towards the house. She didn’t care about the stuff they were leaving behind. Nothing really occupied her mind other than having Katya on top of her, inside of her, all around her. She could feel her legs shaking with expectation. It had been a long time since she last had sex, but she wasn’t nervious. She, somehow, knew she could trust Katya. They seemed to have some sort of astral connection, and Trixie wondered how they could apply that nonverbal communication in the bedroom.

Unfortunately, the bedroom proved to be too far away. As soon as they entered the kitchen through the glass doors, the kissing restarted. Trixie pushed her own back against the nearest wall and allowed Katya to press her entire body on top of hers. It was all too much. The heat emanating Katya tickled her skin, making Trixie shiver. Their mouths attacked each other as hands landed on every spot of uncovered skin.

Katya snaked her hands under Trixie’s dress and squeezed her ass, forcing Trixie to release her mouth as she gasped in pleasure. Katya caressed the soft skin of her butt lovingly, taking her time to enjoy the feeling of the fleshy cheeks under her fingers.

“I’m gonna eat you out now, is that okay?”

Trixie could do nothing but nod at such formal request. Still in disbelief, she saw how Katya dropped to her knees. Her big smile was the last thing Trixie saw before her eyes shut by themselves. Katya’s hands found the hem of Trixie’s dress and lifted the skirt, before disappearing inside and pulling the small thong down slowly. Trixie felt a finger running up and down her entrance, circling around where she so desperately needed to be touched.

“Katya, please,” Trixie shamelessly begged, and it worked.

She felt the wet tongue pushing flat against her most sensitive spot. Her knees bent slightly, she extended her arms and tried to find support between the glass door and the cabinets next to her. Katya licked her skillfully. Her lips sucked and released her just right, her tongue flicked at the perfect pace. And as if fucking her with her mouth wasn’t enough, Katya pushed a finger inside without warning. Trixie screamed loudly, thankful that the houses were fairly far apart so the neighbours couldn’t hear them. Her sounds only grew higher in pitch as another finger was introduced, and then a third.

Time fully stopped as Trixie sunk down on Katya’s fingers, pleasuring herself at the rhythm she wanted. Her senses felt on the edge of an overload as Katya ate her out simultaneously.

“Pluh-please, stop,” Trixie asked, panting.

In a quick move, Katya removed the dress from around her head with her free hand. “What? What’s wrong?”

“I’m gonna cum.”

“Then why you asked me to stop, bitch?”

Trixie looked to the side, almost shying away from the question. “I don’t wanna… not like this, not without you.”

Sighing deeply, Katya removed her hand carefully, and stood up. “So you are one of those lesbians, huh? You don’t wanna fuck, you want to make love.” She drawled the last word, making fun of the concept.

“Excuse me?” Trixie didn’t try to hide the annoyance in her voice.

Katya took the short sleeve of her shirt and tried to dry her chin as she spoke. “C’mon. You know what I mean. I thought we were just gonna get laid, and you put together a-a stupid picnic date? For fuck’s sake. Who does that? Gross.”

“Well, I’m sorry if I wanted to do something nice for us.”

“For us?” Katya spun around with her hands in the air. “There is no us, Brenda! We literally just met. We talked once, on a hook up app. We were not even having the same conversation! I thought it was all about Contact and you were spilling your childhood trauma. What the fuck! How did you even get picnic from that?”

Crossing her arms on top of her chest, Trixie distanced herself from Katya. It took every cell of will power to step away from her underwear without picking it up, and Trixie still didn’t know if leaving it there was less shameful.

“You need to leave.”

“Oh, but we were just gonna make playlists that reminded us of our first date.” Katya pouted theatrically, stomping her feet hard on the ground.

Trixie didn’t appreciate the sarcasm. “Now!” She shouted, pointing towards the door.

Without another word, Katya stormed out, slamming the door behind herself. Trixie stared at the piece of wood, expecting something from it without knowing what it was. She breathed deeply once, twice, the third time never came. A sob cut through her chest, coming out in a guttural scream. Katya was right. Trixie was smitten since the moment she laid eyes on Katya, and not even in person, just one look at the single picture and she was gone. She understood then that the first step of being let down was getting her hopes up. It had to stop.

One day. Trixie allowed herself one day to wallow. It wasn’t even about Katya, she reasoned. She needed a moment to analyze her motives, then she would pick the pieces back up and move on with her life. Her mind was blank for the entire day. She turned off her phone, put on some baking show on Netflix, and ate microwave popcorn straight from the bag. It had been a day of nothing but self pity and indulging in all the things she knew were bad for her.

Monday came and reality kicked back in. She went to her job at the studio and tried to entertain conversation with B-list celebrities as she got them ready for their low ratings shows. That was something she was good at, something she was confident about. Just like that, she fell back into a routine and the pity party was left behind. At least for the rest of the week. Once Friday reached her again, and she was in no mood to look after her drunk friends, she felt loneliness wanting to creep back in.

Her fingers found the useless folder and clicked on the app by themselves. Between the many unread messages sitting on her inbox, the red bubble next to Katya’s face called her attention. She opened the conversation, just to make the notification go away, but what she saw was something she hadn’t expected. There was a string of messages from Katya asking her to talk, the last one left her phone number, notifying Trixie that would be her last attempt and she should call her if she felt like it.

It took less than a minute of pondering before the call was already connecting.

Katya picked up on the third ring, just when Trixie was about to hang up.

“Who is this? I don’t have this number saved. Are you a scammer?”

Trixie had to laugh at Katya’s words, that were in no shape or form a greeting. Apparently, her laughter worked as an introduction because Katya’s voice immediately changed.

“Trixie, is that you? Fuck. I didn’t think you were gonna call.”

“Hello,” Trixie said as softly as possible, remembering what Katya had said about working on her greeting.

“Hey, that’s so much better! Hi. Listen, I want… please, don’t hang up. I will go straight to the point. I’m sorry. I was rude and mean, and you didn’t deserve all the fucked up things that I said to you.”

A small smirk was slowly forming on her lips. “Go on,” Trixie encouraged her.

Even when she couldn’t see her, Trixie could tell Katya was also smiling by now. “I like you, I like you a lot. This is just so new to me. I’m used to, you know, using the hook up app to hook up. I went there looking for a one time thing, not to, like, stay. Never expected to find… you. I’ve never been with a type like you before.”

For a moment, Trixie wished she was using a land line. She so desperately wanted to twist her finger around the phone cord. “And what is my type?”

“You know, pretty girls who are out of this world funny. All the hyper-femmes I’ve found are hot on the body but empty in the head; and boring. God, you have no idea how boring hot girls can be.” A frustrated groan escaped her, but she recovered right away, as if the actual reason for the call had suddenly hit her. “I just… could you, maybe, give me another chance? It’s stupid but all I can think about is being in Malibu with you again. I’ll prepare the dumb picnic this time. Although, I can’t promise we won’t be eating, like, old batteries and drinking Red Bulls. That’s probably all the things that can be found in my bag right now, but–”

“Oh, my God! Stop!” Trixie shouted between giggles. “If what you wanted was to annoy me into accepting, you can stop now.”

Katya’s whizzing laughter travelled through miles and miles until it digitally filled Trixie’s ears.

“So, is that a yes? Can we give it another go?”

“Yes, you idiot. I’ll go out with you again.”

“Marvellous, darling! Pick you up tomorrow, same place?”

On her end of the line, Trixie shook her head. “I actually live in Century City. You can pick me up here and we’ll go to Malibu. We can even work on those playlists on our way.”

Loud laughter was heard before Katya spoke again. “Deal. Bring the Red Bulls, I’ll bring the batteries.”

Trixie smiled, pressing her cheek against the cold glass of her cellphone. “Please, don’t feed me batteries. We can go to a restaurant or something.”

“No,” Katya stated solemnly. “We’ll have a picnic. That’s gonna be our thing, I’ve declared it. See you tomorrow, then?”

“See you tomorrow. Good night.” Just before she hung up, Trixie heard Katya calling her name. “Yeah?”

“We’ll be fine. Let’s just take it slow, okay?”

“Okay,” Trixie agreed. “We’ll be fine,” she repeated, more to herself than the emptiness coming from the device, indicating that the call had ended. “I’ll be fine.”

#rpdr fanfiction #trixya #trixie mattel #katya zamolodchikova #smut #lesbian au #of lovers #dendenmonmon #submission

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fanfictrashdump · 3 years

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Queening a Pawn, 16

Summary: During the Time Heist, Loki stole the Tesseract and escaped. He did not expect, however, to be pulled through a Time Loop that delivered him to a Midgard more than a decade older, wiser, and bitterer. Having just lived through his unsuccessful attack in New York, Loki must learn to live in Midgard after the defeat of Thanos (post-Endgame). The question is, who is Loki without a quest for a throne or total domination?

Pairings: Loki x OC

Delilah looked up from the mountain of paperwork her new assistant had just piled onto her desk when she heard someone come in. Dressed impeccably in white, Pepper Potts strode in with a friendly smile on her face and a manila folder in her hand.

The mess in her office made her suddenly self-conscious, and she tried to straighten out the papers into what might vaguely resemble neat piles. "Pepper! To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"I hope I didn't interrupt anything too important," she remarked, eyeing the mess of files on the desk with a weary smile. "I just wanted to run something by you."

"Oh, not at all," she fibbed, but rectified when Pepper made a face. "You're giving me a good excuse not to obsess over the shambles that is the Receiving department." Lilah gestured a chair across from her. "Take a seat. What's on your mind?"

The redhead sat down with a plop, crossing her legs as she leaned back. "Well, I was talking to Tony last night and he gave me a suggestion that I am tempted to pursue."

Delilah rolled her eyes. This was not the first time the computer generated Tony had demanded one of his ideas be brought to fruition. "What did Ghost In the Machine have to say, now? As long as it's not the Starburst pool, again, I'm open to suggestions."

Pepper laughed. "No, though he still claims it will work. It was about Loki."

Not sure whether or not she should be weary, Lilah opted for keeping her expression neutral and clasping her hands on the desk in a pose she had taken from Loki. "Oh, what about Loki?"

"Well, he was going on and on about how good Loki was with dealing with Morgan– you know that she's super headstrong, like her Dad– and how all the other kids in the academy love him."

"Right," Lilah agreed, suspicious.

"Tony suggested I make him a permanent fixture in the Academy."

Delilah blinked in confusion, tilting her head curiously at Pepper. "Loki? You want him to, what? Teach seven years-old's how to fight?"

Pepper waved away the comment with a chuckle. "Of course not. I thought he could be part of the after-school program. He can watch kids, make sure they do their homework, keep them busy until pick up."

"You want to leave agents' children with the man who tried to take over the world? And you think the agents will go for this?" Lilah shifted uncomfortably. Despite the generally positive opinion of Loki in the current climate, it was insane to think people would purposefully hand their kids to the demigod.

"Tony thinks they will."

Delilah bit her bottom lip in thought. "OK, let me preface this with saying that I love Tony and I love working for this company, please don't fire me–"

"OK?"

"–but Tony is a fancy computer program," she finished cautiously, but Pepper didn't look offended.

"But is he wrong?" Pepper leaned forward, leveling her gaze with Delilah's. "Hon, last week I did rounds and found him finger painting with six other kids," she offered as an example. "He snuck into an art class to finger paint."

Delilah's smile widened on its own accord, feeling a small little bubble of affection burst within her. Loki Odinson, child of Asgard, son of Laufey of Jotunheim, softest villain in the realm and expert finger painter. "So that's where all those portraits came from," she remarked, thinking back on the half dozen brightly colored papers hanging on Loki's walls, attached there by knives. "He does genuinely love those kids, but he hates being told what to do. I can try to talk him around–"

"He already said yes."

Lilah was flabbergasted. "What?"

"I talked to him this morning over coffee," Pepper explained. "He accepted before I had even gotten the full offer out."

Delilah frowned, more confused than she had been at the mere suggestion. "Then why did you need to consult me?"

"He has demands."

She groaned and Pepper laughed. "Of course he does. Lay it on me. Million dollar salary? Private jet? More knives, for some fucking reason?"

"No. He's working minimum wage," Pepper said, matter-of-factly.

"Minimum? And he agreed to this?"

"He was the one who demanded it. I was ready to offer him a decent wage, because kids are difficult, but he said whatever the minimum was, he'd take it. Instead, he wants us to invest the extra money."

"In…?"

"A scholarship." Pepper waited for the shock to fade from Delilah's face. "For students who were in some way affected by the attack in New York."

The answer made her insides twist, not unpleasantly just curious. "Did he give any reason?"

"Just that he knew how much of a difference a scholarship could make and then made puppy eyes." Pepper smiled knowingly. "Could I just tell you how exceedingly bad he has it for you?"

"Only if you tell him, too. He seems to not have gotten the memo," Delilah retorted, drily. "You need me to write up his paperwork, I assume."

"Yes, and I have the scholarship projections here for you, too," Pepper offered, sliding the manila folder across the desk. "I might have given it an extra little boost, but don't tell him."

Delilah flipped through the documents, glancing at the details of the scholarship and how selection would work. "This is excellently thought out."

"He was pretty adamant about the criteria and I agree with his selection process. He was astoundingly thoughtful of the demographic he thought was most deserving." Pepper sighed. "I didn't think Loki had it in him, but lo and behold."

"Yeah, he's… something else." Despite the lukewarm expression, there was a definite flutter in her stomach. "I'll set all these up and forward you signed copies by tomorrow."

Delilah sighed, waving goodbye to Pepper before contemplating her afternoon. After a moment or two, she told her assistant that she'd be back later and disappeared into the puzzle-like hallways of the compound. Lilah turned the corner towards the living quarters when she was pulled into a nearby closet with a hand over her mouth. Had it been the first time this happened to her, she would have been worried, but as it were, her initial response was to grasp the lapels of the charcoal button-up shirt and tug the person until her lips were firmly upon theirs.

Loki made a pleased noise in the back of his throat, slipping his fingers through the belt loops of her jeans to tug her closer. "Hello, darling," he whispered against the hollow of her throat before he placed an open mouthed kiss there.

"I love you, Lo," she said both abruptly and breathlessly, but the words tugged the corner of his mouth upwards, instantly.

Loki chuckled, skimming his mouth over her neck before stopping to press a kiss to her jaw. "I knew it was a good idea to steal you away," he quipped, easily, completely glossing over the fact that this was the first time she had ever said the words. He bent to kiss her proper, both his hands cupping her face, thumbs brushing her cheekbones. "I know you do, you fool. Just as I love you." He rested their foreheads together with a sigh. "I brought food and set up the chess board at mine. Would you like to join me for lunch?"

"Are you asking me out on a date? How very forward of you."

"Forward would be saying that I plan on putting you up on my table for dessert. Though, it is implied." He grinned impishly and tugged on her beltloops. "I hope these are quick to take off." He kissed the wide-eyed expression on her face away. "Too strong?"

"No, I just… I didn’t think I'd enjoy you saying that." Lilah said the words as she shuddered the sensation off.

"Mmm, shall we skip straight to dessert, then?" Loki leveled his gaze at her, brushing locks of hair out of her eyes. "Or do you want to discuss Pepper's offer for the next four hours like I know you want to?"

"No! I mean… I think it's great that you took the job." She replied with a little hesitation. Delilah could already see the protest brewing in his eyes the second she opened her mouth.

"But?" Loki asked, knowingly. "Out with it."

"I'm just overprotective and don't want to see you get hurt for doing a good deed."

"They're very small, I can probably drop-kick them into orbit–" He joked, mimicking punting a small child in the tight space.

"You know what I mean. Don't play with me."

He hummed deep in the back of his throat and twined his arms tightly around her. His lips found her crown in a tender display before he buried his face into her hair. "You are a truly extraordinary specimen." Delilah huffed and he made a show of kissing away her pout and nipping her bottom lip. "I mean it in the most respectful and complimentary of ways." When she did not respond, he squeezed her further. "I am deeply honored that you would think a wretch like me important enough to warrant your protection. I love you so dearly for it."

Delilah sighed, hugging him around his middle so tightly it made his ribs ache. "I don't like people messing with my stuff!"

"Your stuff? Am I all of a sudden your stuff?" Loki husked, rubbing lazy circles on her back.

"When have you not been my stuff?"

He held her arm's length away, wolfish grin twisting his lips. "By the Norns, where have you been all my life? Deliciously possessive, clever, and gorgeous? I've died and gone to Valhalla."

"And yet you only kiss me in dark janitor's closets."

"This and accepting impromptu job offers are the only way to catch you unawares." He nuzzled into her hair. "Plus, we've always done particularly well in the dark."

She hummed her agreement, her head resting against his chest where she tucked herself under his chin. "Pepper mentioned something else," Lilah started, tentatively. "About letting your bracelets off on a trial basis."

"And you didn't mention anything about already fitting a felon with counterfeit manacles, I assume?"

Delilah bit her lip, looking guiltily down at her shoes. "I didn't. I might need to switch them right before Pepper decides to grant you a leave. Is that OK?"

"Would it be OK for you to put on the manacles you meant to keep on me back on so that you can take them off again?" He chuckled. "You realize how mad that sounds?"

"I don't want to get us in trouble!"

"That'd be fine." Loki kissed her forehead. "Except I already told Pepper about the manacles, oh, six weeks ago. She was probably trying to get a rise out of you."

"Six…that's nearly the time you've… Seriously!?"

"I didn't trust myself around you, and I wanted security in case–" Delilah silenced him with a kiss. He chased her lips with a contented purr. "Dessert?" She nodded and he made quick work of opening the door and shoving them both down the hall, giggling like schoolchildren as they rushed towards Loki's flat.

#Loki #Loki MCU #Loki fanfic #MCU #Marvel #MCU fanfic #MCU fanfiction #Loki x oc #Loki x ofc #alternate timeline #time heist #fix it #in this house we sow chaos

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sambergscott · 5 years

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the lowest of the low (but i like you anyway)

Summary: Jake Peralta is a cop. Amy Santiago is a defence attorney. Surprisingly, they hit it off.

Jake’s day has already got off to an exceptionally crappy start.

First, his alarm didn’t go off. Then, when he woke up with five minutes to get ready and get out the apartment, he remembered he forgot to pay his bills and had to take the quickest (and coldest) shower in the world. If he had time he’d call the Guinness Book of World Records. (It’s his childhood dream to be in the Guinness Book of World Records). But he doesn’t have time. He has to be in court in -- he checks his phone -- two and a half minutes.

Speaking of court, the final nail in the coffin of his terrible day -- Rosa Diaz, the defence attorney assigned to his latest case, the only defence attorney he can tolerate enough to have a beer with after a long day of questioning, decided to take a three month trip to Argentina to find her boyfriend, an ex-cop by the name of Pimento who went slightly insane after a long undercover op. Meaning he has to deal with one of Rosa’s colleagues all day. He shudders at the thought. He hopes it’s not that slimeball Rosa refers to as ‘The Vulture’, aptly named because he swoops in and steals all her dopest cases. Or Hitchock, who is totally incompetent and has famously never won a case in his entire forty year career. Nobody knows how he still has a job.

In fact, he hates pretty much every defence attorney he’s ever had the misfortune of coming up against. They’re the lowest of the low. Jake’s job is to catch the bad guys. Defence attorneys let them go free. Even when it’s obvious they’ve done the thing they’re accused of.

There was that one attorney last year though -- Sophia Perez. She was gorgeous, smart and loved Die Hard. They dated for a few months, but it would never have worked out long-term. Cops and defence attorneys are simply incompatible.

He’s sweating when he arrives at the court building, having ran about fifteen blocks because there was some protest on the Subway and of course traffic was a nightmare on the one day of the week he didn’t have to be at the precinct and actually needed to be somewhere on time.

There’s a dark-haired woman in a grey pantsuit waiting for him in the foyer, presumably Diaz’s replacement. He’s never seen her before so she must be new. Desperate to make a good impression so she won’t be too hard on him in there, he paints a friendly smile onto his face.

“Detective Jake Peralta,” he introduces himself.

“Amy Santiago,” she responds, shaking his hand and wow, her handshake is firm. “I took a seminar,” she explains like she can read his mind.

He suddenly has a million questions. Where do you take a seminar on handshakes? Why? How long did it last? Etc. etc. But before he can ask any of them, they’re being called into court and they’re suddenly enemies. Rival sports players staring each other down. Animals fighting over food in the wild. His only mission is to send her client to prison.

Which, as it turns out, is a lot more difficult than he thought.

She is very thorough. She’s combed through every detail of the case (an impressive feat, considering she was only assigned last minute), picked out the gaps in the evidence, presented the jury with a new alibi and even underlined Jake’s spelling errors with red pen. As she questions him, he begins to doubt whether he even believes the case he built up against this guy anymore and finds himself wishing Rosa had stayed in the country. Hell, Santiago is so good, he wishes Hitchcock were here.

Inevitably, she gets her client off scot-free and Jake would be appalled if he wasn’t so impressed (and, to be honest, a little turned on).

Then he remembers she’s a defence attorney, which means she’s basically Satan, and he can’t have sex with Satan. He forces himself to remember how it ended with Sophia, how she broke up with him after he said “I love you” and she told him she didn’t love him back. It was cold-blooded.

He heads to the nearest bar, in serious need of some Scotch to forget about his crappy day, his crappy love life and the crappy defence attorney who wiped away several days of tough police work.

Of course she’s at the bar when he walks in.

And of course the only free seat is next to her at the bar.

Cursing the universe, he sits down, orders his drink and tries to ignore her. He really does. They both know her client was guilty. But she somehow used her slimy lawyer ways to convince the jury that the evidence wasn’t enough to prove, without a shadow of a doubt, that he did it. It was deplorable. Yet, for some reason, he can’t ignore her.

“I don’t like defence attorneys,” he says, setting the record straight nice and early. “I think you all suck.”

“I think cops suck,” she responds, valiantly sticking up for herself. “You’re corrupt, you arrest innocent people, you’re way too trigger-happy and you’re always late to court.”

He rolls his eyes. “Today was an exception. My alarm didn’t go off.”

“You don’t have a back-up alarm?” She scoffs. “That’s just asking for trouble.”

He rolls his eyes again.

“The rest of my points stand.”

“The NYPD has its issues. Lots of them,” he agrees.

“Then why did you become a cop?” She probes. It’s not hard to see why she’s so good at her job. She’s easy to talk to and he finds himself opening up to her, about being raised by a single mom and wanting to protect her.

“Also I love Die Hard,” he adds at the end of his heartfelt speech.

Now is Amy’s turn to roll her eyes. “Alright, John McClane, I was about to say how sweet your reason for becoming a cop was and you ruined it.”

“Damn,” he curses half-heartedly.

She laughs, tucking her hair behind both ears at the same time.

“Why did you decide to join Satan’s Army then?” He questions, nudging her playfully.

“My parents are cops. My grandfather was a cop, too. My brother David joined the Academy my Senior Year of High School and I don’t know, I just... wanted to help people in another way, you know?”

“I get it,” he replies. “I mean, I don’t get it. Your job is literally to reverse everything I do, but I get that you’re doing the right thing. Like a necessary evil.”

“Thanks. I suppose I should buy you a drink since I kicked your butt back there. You’re probably thirsty.”

“My butt would love another drink,” he grins, making her laugh again. And even more so than the alcohol, he loves that sound. He wants to hear it again. He wants to hear it again every day for the rest of his life. Which is crazy because of their jobs and what happened with Sophia and the fact that they’ve only just met, but it also feels right. Really right. “My butt would also love to go on a date with you,” he bites the bullet and, of all the ways he’s ever asked a pretty girl out, mentioning his butt is a technique he’s never used before, but Amy’s smiling, which he takes to mean it has been successful.

“My butt would like that, too,” she confirms.

“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool,” he murmurs, sipping the drink the bartender just slid his way.

They end up hanging out and chatting and laughing until the bar closes and the security guy has to tell them to leave.

It turns out, for a defence attorney, she’s not that bad. In fact, she’s actually pretty great. He discovers that she has seven (seven!) brothers, is Cuban and is deathly allergic to dogs. He explains to her why he loves Die Hard so much, that the Mets are the second love of his life and that he is allergic to bees and wasps. He reminds her how much he dislikes defence attorneys every second sentence.

Outside the bar, she rises to her tiptoes and kisses him. “How do you feel about them now?” She asks coyly, biting her lip.

“You’re certainly changing my mind,” he teases, leaning in for another kiss. Feeling bold, he asks if she’d like to come back to his place. “If you wanna take things slow that’s totally fine,” he quickly amends because he thinks this could be Good and he doesn’t want to ruin it already.

“Normally my boring lawyer brain would tell me to take things slow, but,” she pauses, then repeats his words, “you’re certainly changing my mind.”

As they climb into a taxi, grinning at each other like idiots, he can’t help but think his exceptionally crappy day has turned out... well, not crappy at all.

#jake x amy #b99 fics #my writing #I don't normally write AUs and this is probably overdone but I was Inspired #so

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villainsblog97 · 4 years

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Stray Kids Reaction: Kissing a Stranger on New Years

Summary: What's so bad about kissing someone on New Years? Well... it helps if you know who they are...

Warnings: some language and use of alcohol

Scenario: Pure Fluffy Balls of Fluff!!!

Bang Chan

"What's your name?" The aussie asked you.

"Where's the fun in that, if I leave you to keep guessing... you'll stick around a little longer" you smirked.

To say that he was enchanted by you would be a total understatement, you were definitely driving him insane, and the more you two hung out the more he wanted to know you.

"Countdown in 15 guys!!!" A guy called out.

You two met at a new years eve party, you had to help Chan get lose, he told you he didn't really do a lot of partying, but you helped change his mind, when he saw you it was like time froze, you were the only thing on his mind, and thanks to Jisung and Changbin, he finally got up the courage to talk to you (okay more like Jisung and Changbin pushed him towards you).

3 hours lead you to here, you found out he was producing music with his friends and hoping one day to make it big, you told him that you came from a small town and were a city girl stuck in a country world, so you packed it up and followed your dream.

Now you stood beside him, with 2 minutes left on the clock.

"You ever kissed anyone on New Years?" He asked.

"Its so overrated..." you yelled over the music.

The song ended and the Hyped up DJ began to start the countdown.

"Ten...Nine...Eight....Seven" your eyes drifted off to Chan's lips who were counting down with the crowd, they looked so soft and plump, made you really curious of the taste of them.

"Five...Four..." Chan looked down at you and caught you in the act, his mind went blank, maybe it was the rum and coke in his hand or maybe just the way you looked, but his eyes met your lips, and he couldn't take them off.

"Three....Two....One! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!"

"What the hell" he smiled as he pulled you in for a long 2020 kiss, you stomach flipped as you kissed him, he knew what he was doing, and it was driving you wild.

"Now will you tell me your name?"

"(Y/N)", "I'm Chris... but everyone around here calls me Chan"

Lee Know

This boy was already a tease, constantly hinting how badly he wanted to kiss you, but he also had a couple shots, so he was feeling pretty good.

"You know... you're suppose to kiss someone on new years...." he hinted.

"You don't have to..." you rolled your eyes.

"Its tradition!" He protested.

"Its lame..."

However as the alcohol set in, he was looking more and more delicious.

"I will admit, you are freaking hot" you smiled.

"Oh really?" He smirked.

"Little bit"

The guy called out the countdown was about to begin.

"Three.....Two....ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!" you looked over and put your hands on his face and leaned up on your tip toes and planted a big kiss on him.

His eyes widen as you pulled away, but he'd be damned if he was just gonna let you go.

Changbin

After the fourth short joke, he was getting tired of being near you, but somehow everytime he tried to leave, he'd always run right back into you.

"Following me now pip squeak?" You smirked.

"Quit with the short jokes you're not that much taller!"

"Yes but I'm still... taller"

"Whatever!" He threw his hands up and walked away again.

Forty minutes later, he saw you again, he tried to avoid you but it was no use.

"Hey! Quit following me Amazon!" He glared.

"Amazon!?"

"Yeah! AM-A-ZON!!!!"

"You're starting to piss me off!" You yelled out

"That makes two of us!" He agreed.

"Five...Four...Three...Two...ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!"

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!" you yelled at him.

"Yeah! Same to you!" He said before pulling you into his lips for a harsh, yet satisfying, kiss.

You both froze in your tracks... (talk about sexual tension)

"Instead of Pip Squeak....why don't you call me Changbin"

Hyunjin

He was a flirt, no doubt... he could get any girl he wanted, except you, you were a challenge, and he liked the challenge.

"What is it about you that is so different?" He asked.

"Maybe I just don't fall so easily..."

"That you don't... but still..."

You gave him one last smile before walking away, because truth was, he was getting to you... and you couldn't have that, but at the same time you wanted to.

He was unlike anyone you've ever met, totally gorgeous, funny, and that smile.

Girls kept coming over, hanging all over him, he would politely deny their request, he knew what he wanted.

"Let's start the countdown!!!" A girl started cheering.

Everyone started the countdown, you looked around for the mystery guy, kind of hoping you could start your new year with him, but he was out of sight.

"HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!" the crowd cheered as people started to share a kiss with their significant other, you felt a hand on your shoulder and spun you on your heel, you met his eyes for only a second before he pulled you into his sweet, perfect lips.

"Call me Hyunjin"

Han

Jisung was a shy little bean, he didn't usually talk to girls because it would come out more incoherent gibberish than anything.

But he saw you and wanted so bad to know you, absolutely beautiful was what he saw and he really wanted to know more of you.

"Just go talk to her!" Felix said

"Yeah right... unless she understands jawa..."

"You don't sound like a star wars creature when you talk!"

"No it just comes out h-yo-ah-go-na- bye!"

"Okay so maybe that is a little Jawa..." he shrugs, "look mate... 2019 is almost over! Go now or forever hold your peace!"

A few minutes later, He was up talking to you, not doing too bad when talking to you.

Drinking has helped.

You couldn't help how adorable he was, and how he just melted your heart everytime he smiled, you two spent pretty much the rest of 2019 together, laughing, talking and occasionally staring into each others eyes.

You were falling.

And so was he.

"Ten...Nine...Eight...Seven...Six....Five...Four....THREE...TWO....ONE!!!! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!" Jisung looked down at you with nervous hands and a shaky voice.

"Can I kiss you??" He yelled over the loud music and equally loud cheers.

"Yes!" You yelled back, with that His shaking hands reached your face as he leaned down and kissed you ever so softly.

"I'm Jisung" he smiled

"(Y/N)"

Felix

Felix was having fun, spending new years with Chan at a local little club in Australia.

"2020 resolution!" Chan said as he sat the shot glass down.

Felix downed the shot and sat it beside him.

"Awe why mate... those never happen!"

"Come on come on, just play along!"

"Okay I..... holy..." his eyes widened

"More....religious?" Chan asked

"If my religion is her..." he sighed out as you approached him.

"Nice hair" you smiled.

"Hair.... " he was in a trance by you.

"What my good mate here was trying to say was, thank you! And I'll leave you two to it then!" Chan slipped away leaving you and Felix to talk, you told him you just moved here a few weeks ago and saw him around a couple days ago, you blushed as you told him he had an enchanting presence that made you want to get to know him more, he blushed a bit too.

Few hours later, you two were hitting it off well... Chan stood back and watched his friend like a proud mom.

"So any new year resolutions?" You asked as you took a drink.

"Nothing I can think of... I'm not really a new years resolution kind of guy"

"Oh come on.... everyone has a new years resolution" you laughed.

"Well let me get back to you"

"Countdown in Ten.....Nine...Eight!!!" The DJ called out.

"We better get over there!" You called as you grabbed your drink in one hand and took Felix's hand in the other, dragging him to the crowd.

He grabbed a hold of his drink as he followed you.

"Five...Four..." you both chimed in.

"Three...Two...One... HAPPY NEW YEAR!" without even thinking Felix leaned over and placed a sweet kiss on your lips, you weren't complaining, he was gorgeous, and his lips were the perfect taste.

"You know how I said I'd get back to you on that resolution?"

"Yeah?"

"I think I just found it..."

Seungmin

From the get go Seungmin was hypnotized by you, he pretty much ditched all his friends to go talk to you, but it was worth it, he found you exceptionally beautiful, and couldn't take his eyes off you.

You two were talking and enjoying each others company, when you unzipped your jacket to reveal a Day6 T-Shirt.

Seungmin then knew he found his soulmate.

"You like Day6!??!?" His eyes lit up.

"Of course! Die hard My Day since day 1!" You smiled.

"I love them! Their music is so..."

"Amazing!" You both said in unison

"Whos your bias!?" He smiled.

"Oh hands down Jae! He cracks me up!"

As if you two weren't already getting to know each other, now it was getting serious, Seungmin was falling for a total stranger, he didn't even know your name.

"Hey... I'm Seungmin" he smiled as he held out his hand.

"I'm-"

"Start the countdown!!!!" Everyone cheered as they counted down to the new year.

You and Seungmin joined in counting down with the crowd.

"Three....Two....ONE! HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!" Seungmin leaned down and kissed you, then froze.

"I'm sorry... I was....lost in the moment"

You leaned up on your toes and returned the kiss to him.

"Its okay... also... (Y/N)" you smiled.

I.N

When it came to Jeongin, girls were the last thing on his mind, he wasn't exactly scared of them... he would just... run away from them.

However you were different, he was talking with you all night at the party his friends dragged him to.

It wasn't so bad when you started talking to him.

You found out he was the same age as you and only a couple months older than you, but he was adorable, and his smile killed you.

You told him that some of your friends dragged you along too, you were the youngest of your little group too, you both had a lot in common and the countdown got closer and closer.

"Anything you wanna remember from 2019?" You asked.

"Well... definitely you!" He grinned, your heart shook, no one ever said that to you.

"I wanna remember you too" you smiled.

"Let's start the countdown!" Everyone cheered.

"Jeongin! Let's go!!!" Some of his friends came by and pulled him along, he made sure you followed him.

You two stood close and slowly laced your fingers together.

"Three....Two....One! HAPPY NEW YEAR"

Jeongin looked at you with those soft, heart melting eyes, you nodded a little, knowing what he was asking for, he held both your hands and leaned in to give you a new year kiss.

"THATS MY BOY!!!" you heard one of the members call out.

"So... I'm Jeongin" he smiled, light pink dusted on his cheeks.

"(Y/N)"

"Happy New Year (Y/N)"

#straykids #happy new year #happy new decade #reaction #scenario #bang chan #lee know #changbin #hyunjin #han #felix #seungmin #i.n

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