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eddies-house · 8 months

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The Under-Ground (18+ ONLY)

Chapter Seven - Bake Sale

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 |

Modern!Barista!Eddie AU - The calm after the storm.

Enemies to Lovers, Modern!Barista!Eddie AU, Eddie x Fem Reader

8.7K Words

Warnings - Eddie is an asshole, eventual smut, mentions of drugs and drinking, drug dealing, allusions to mental illness, I don't think there's anything else but please let me know if I missed anything

Author's Note: i think im super proud of this one omg guys also...I put a little note at the end cause i didn't wanna spoil anything by saying what i was gonna say. also i fixated so much on each section of this as i wrote it so its like half proof read and then i was like ok the rest is up to god

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The storm subsided at around 2:00 AM and it would go down as the biggest storm in Hawkins’ history to date. The flooding was unlike anything anyone had seen in years and the poor unequipped town was drenched to its roots. Minor water damage affected homes and businesses, nothing too devastating but an inconvenience nonetheless. A few trees had been struck down, if not by lightning then by the high winds that coursed through the night like they owned it. Streets were blocked off with caution tape and traffic cones as the damages were assessed and Hawkins Square was littered in deep puddles that would soak you up to the knee if you happened to misstep.

It was fitting. The world seemed to look just as you felt. Mutilated. Tarnished. The calm after the storm, indeed. Although things that night looked up between you and Eddie, an invisible peace treaty signed by the ink bleeding on the coffee cup, the scars didn’t just vanish. This wasn’t a movie, this was real life and things didn’t just become beautiful again over night. Pain didn’t just cease because you wanted it to or because someone said the right thing. Someone could say a million of the right things but it doesn’t excuse their wrongdoings and the harm they’re capable of. And it doesn’t erase them as someone who would pull the trigger on you if given the chance.

The sun flowed into the room at just the right angle, the kitchen countertop illuminated with the faintest rainbow in the morning light. Beauty after tragedy. It was cold, god was it cold. The apartment might as well have been a walk-in freezer at this point, a place where you could store cold cuts and popsicles without hesitation. But it was hard to complain about your living conditions when there was a warmth blossoming deep within your very being. Whiskey colored eyes had the same effect as the real thing. Warming you up from the inside out, relaxing every tensed muscle, melting away every stupid problem. It pooled deep within you, a buried desire that was clawing its way out of your chest. You’d been without a glance of those rich and honeyed irises for at least six hours, well into the beginning of the hour of 8:00 AM and yet it felt like you’d drank them in seconds ago with the way your veins heated. The way your blood pumped and your nerves mellowed out. If he was like a smooth shot of whiskey, you were at risk of becoming an alcoholic if you weren’t careful.

Snap out of it.

This was not a fairytale, things could not be fixed overnight. He was still a stranger to you, a shell, you could not settle into comfort so easily, no matter how good it felt. It didn’t matter that the buzz lingering beneath your surface was far more powerful than the first time at sixteen.

It didn’t matter.

All you knew was hurt by the hands of those closest and you weren’t going to let it happen again. Never again. Not even for boyish dimples. Not even for the stupid cup of hot chocolate. And certainly not for the way it felt to be pressed against his back when you begrudgingly accepted a ride home on his death machine of a motorcycle the night of the storm. But that didn’t mean he didn’t have prime real estate in the back of your mind.

–

His hair. Several curls falling from the confines of the low messy bun that should warrant a lecture from you on the food safety guidelines but you can’t bring yourself to do it. Soft brown tendrils framed a concentrated face, tongue poked out in deep thought at the simple task of blending ice and coffee. The grinding of the blades against the ice for longer than necessary should have you in shambles, causing an uproar, at the very least scolding him under your breath. You don’t. Instead it’s as if you’re under some kind of spell, a spell that continuously draws you to the insufferable but absolute Disney prince of a man before you. It had been years since you’d seen him in such a light and it made everything all the more conflicting.

I hate him.

Several curses escaped his delicately pink lips as the blender came to a halt, the consistency of the liquid was long overblended and almost became a thicker milk but all you could focus on as his back came to face you was his broad shoulders, far more adult than you’d ever realized. He was no longer a lanky high schooler, his frame had filled out and it filled out in his favor. Had his arms only recently become a touch manlier or did your subconscious automatically blur it out all those times you encountered him only to end up with even more distaste after each interaction? A distaste which would only blind you to the man he grew into.

No, I hate him.

But the moment you would tear your gaze away it would only gravitate right back to his hands which you guessed were noticeably larger than your own but you were in no position to find out. With his rings more than likely temporarily abandoned atop the table in the back, his fingers seemed bare. It only further made you appreciate them, a flash of a daydream posed in your mind where large hands decorated with chipped black polish rested at your waist.

No, no, no.

He was not yours to daydream about nor would you want him to be.

Although…it was okay to think of him as physically attractive all while still keeping him at a distance wasn’t it? After all, he was still awful. You force yourself to recall the horrible things he’s said to you but you can only counter it with the appalling remarks you’d made in return. Though he committed a horrendous act years ago that would make you bleed for years to come, you knew it didn’t warrant some of the comments you’d snapped at him in passing. Especially those about his social status. It was becoming apparent after the previous night’s conversation that you both struggled verbally and that his crude comments were always met with your degrading criticism. You were both instigators.

But it was proving difficult to keep him in such a villainous light when he was so radiant. So effortlessly alluring even as he tossed his liquified concoction into the sink with his brows knit tightly together and profanities falling from his tongue, thankfully quiet enough as to not alert any customers. In all honesty, all he’s proved was that he was an awful barista. Even then, it didn’t bother you as much as it should, your desire to scream at him would’ve been off the charts 24 hours ago. That desire hadn’t even been simmering beneath your surface, the only desire burning within your depths was something unspoken and something you could never let bubble over ever again. You wouldn’t.

Reality began settling back in, an enraged customer snapping his fingers at you, demanding your attention as your eyes widened at the realization that he’d been waiting on a simple black cup of coffee for the past few minutes. Had the shop been busier you would’ve found a polite way to shut him up but in all fairness there were only three other customers at the moment, two of which were already enjoying their drinks. Regardless, it didn’t seem to warrant the entitled behavior of the frowning middle aged man, a simple where is my order? would have sufficed.

“I’m so sorry, let me check on that for you.”

Customer service served with a smile. And a side of sarcasm.

“Oh, you’ll check on that? It’s a cup of coffee. How hard is it to make—“

“There was a mix up with the orders, here’s your coffee. My fault.” Eddie slid the cup across the to go counter to its awaiting consumer, eyes slightly narrowed.

There was no mix up. You really did forget all about the bland coffee up until you were rudely reminded. And it definitely wasn’t Eddie’s fault.

—

1 Week Later

There was no escaping how absolutely enchanting a mundane task such as scrubbing the sink was. It didn’t make sense and yet you lingered, pretending to rinse out the blender one time too many with the hope of catching Eddie’s forearms flex in his movements as he maneuvered the sponge around the sink.

Pathetic.

Which is why you tried so hard to snap yourself out of it. Though you told yourself a week ago that you could admire from afar, even that was starting to not feel like enough which is why it needed to stop. Eddie Munson had finally apologized to you but that didn’t mean throw caution to the wind. You don’t just suddenly trust someone that for years only gave you reasons to steer far from them. The key phrase was that he finally apologized. Meaning he took far too long. Fucked up too long ago and prolonged inexcusable behavior so far into the future that it was beyond repairing. He didn’t deserve your sympathy or your persisting gaze. Sorry meant nothing in the face of years of destruction.

Keep telling yourself that.

Because all you did was remain fixated on those stupid bats decorating his forearm for as long as rinsing out the blender would allow. You had no idea how big of a breath you were holding in as you stood there next to him until you pulled away, snagging a rag from beneath the coffee bar to dry the container. Lungs suddenly exhausted, you attempted to regain a semblance of your composure.

Every conversation since that one night had gone the same. A few words exchanged pertaining to work only, some on his behalf coming off as silly banter only for you to keep your focus on any task you could grasp nearby, acting as if he bored you. It killed him but he respected it. That didn’t mean he’d stop trying to make nice. If the only positive response he received from you all week was an accidental crack in your smile he would take it. It’d be gone quicker than it came but he cherished it all the same. In the last few weeks he came to terms with the fact that he could be on his best behavior but that didn’t mean you had to accept it which in turn meant that he would have to accept that.

So your muffled answers of ‘mhm’ and ‘yeah’ to everything he said felt like the end of the world to him but if it meant peace for you then he’d endure it. The way you’d avoid his eyes made him miss you. You were an arms length away but he missed you. And no, it didn’t mean he necessarily missed prodding at you because you both had this sick game of who could throw the worst insult for years, it meant that he missed your attention, whether it be in spiteful phrases or aggressive stares. He’d take what he could get and now, he was getting nothing. He was starved, absolutely deficient of your gaze even if it did hold such a hateful fire for him. Eddie supposes avoidance feels even worse than face to face conflict that was never even meant to be. And it’s only because the way you shut down made him feel non-existent in your world. At least before he had a place.

—

1 Week Later

Before every night shift at The Under-Ground was a grueling eight hours at the auto shop. Hours that Eddie would spend mentally ripping himself to shreds even more so than before your more recent communication with him. Although he hated himself for even thinking about it, he’d sometimes wager the idea of picking a small fight with you just to earn a fraction of your recognition, even if in a negative light. Then he’d quickly acknowledge that doing so would only provide further evidence that he was never worthy of a moment of your time in the first place. And he still fully believed that. But he was eager to someday become the guy that was.

So when Steve Harrington strolled into the shop, twirling his keys around his finger, Eddie’s grip on his wrench tightened as he pushed himself further under the Chevy he’d been working on. He’d never forgive Steve for all that happened, he’d take responsibility for his side of things but Steve inflicted a kind of pain on you that he could read in your eyes every time he saw you. Though you hadn’t said much about Steve to him directly, the way you fixated on him and Eddie being ‘together’ dulled a certain light within you. How could Steve let it happen if he knew the outcome? The same could be asked of himself but he was concentrating on Steve right now. The best friend. The last person in the world you’d think to hurt you.

“Hey, Munson.”

At his feet stood the man in question. The one that he’d swear to never associate with again. Ignoring him wasn’t going to accomplish anything however he tried regardless.

“Munson.”

Figures.

“Get outta here, Harrington.” Eddie remained monotone, uninterested in any persistence Steve was forcing upon him.

“Please, I need-“

“Need what? Need me to get you off again? Get out.” It was said between clenched teeth, patience no longer a virtue. There was rage bubbling under the surface and if he wasn’t careful, it would boil over and create an even bigger mess. His conscience silenced his true inner monologue though that didn’t completely shut down his capabilities of biting back. It was just much more stifled.

“No—what? No, of course not.” Steve’s nerves were fried and Eddie could tell just by the shake in his voice. Fluorescent lights did him no favors, his usually radiant glow now dull in the stuffy garage.

“Then what, what are you doing in my bay?” A seething Eddie slides out from underneath the sedan, sitting up to glare at the king himself. “‘Cause I don’t have time for—whatever this is.” He gestures between himself and Steve, fingers covered in grease.

“Just—I—have you, have you talked to her?” Distraught. Steve has the audacity to come off as distraught. Eddie’s deep breath only furrows Steve’s brows, the vein in his neck straining as he focuses on the nearly irate mechanic before him.

“Listen.” Eddie’s coveralls are further tarnished with the oily substance from his hands as he wipes them on the rough navy material, frustration evident in the way his eyes squeeze shut for a mere second. “You two seem to think communicating through me is going to fix this whole thing but it’s not.” If he could run a hand down his face out of habit he would. Instead he offers another sigh, a disappointed one. “You need to talk to each other. You keep using the enemy as a pawn and it's just gonna blow up in your face.”

“Munson, you’re not the enemy–”

Steve attempts to make nice, tries to let Eddie know that he’s not what he claimed him to be all those times. Truth be told, Steve was always jealous.

“Don’t try pitying me, dude.”

It’s silent aside from the clanging of some tools a few bays down, the two staring at each other, one displaying an expression of warning while the other creases his forehead in some form of a plea. An unsaid call for help.

“I’m not, I’m not! I think we’ve both fucked up. Bad.” Way to go, Steve. That’ll really help your case. “Only difference is you fucked up in high school, we were all still kids.” His words are lost on Eddie, he can tell by the way he reaches back to release his unruly curls from the confines of a bun, his head shaking around like a shaggy dog. “I fucked up now so there’s no–no excuse of ‘we were so young! I was dumb!’”

His excuse was that he’s selfish. That was really all there was to it, no bigger picture, no hidden meaning that might bring justice to his name. Steve was a horny guy and he in all honesty hadn’t considered the consequences of his actions. Not even after Robin just about tore him a new one after she found out about the first time. It’s like he’d forgotten all about the absolute heartbreak you went through, the fact that Eddie harbored a sore spot in your barely beating heart was miles away from his thought process. King Steve must not have been buried that deep beneath his surface after all, not long forgotten back in junior year like he’d thought. He was right here all along with the knife in his hand, unintentionally but still brutally stabbing you in the back. And in the aftermath he was forced to bathe in the product of his egocentric ways. No amount of self help books could remedy what seemed to be another broken heart, but even worse, platonically.

This wasn’t like when he and Nancy called it quits back in senior year. This was in a way, more gut wrenching and possibly pulled more tears from him than Nancy’s cutting but truthful words ever could. And that’s saying something. He shed a lot of tears that dreadful night but he’d go as far to say that he shed more the night you caught him hopping out of Eddie’s van. Repercussions slammed his very existence and all he could do was blame himself because you had done nothing wrong and yet he went and severed the very friendship of someone who stuck by him through every questionable thing he had done.

And it was all over someone he never had any feelings for in the first place. And over someone you did. At least at some point.

“Steve, I don’t have an excuse and you know it.” Eddie was aware that he sounded borderline pathetic but what else did he have to hide? His gaze lowered to his filthy boot, eyes as tired as his brain was before exhaling in defeat. “I still keep fucking up whether I mean it or not.” His pupils seemed to dilate in mourning, of what exactly, Steve couldn’t pinpoint. Then Eddie shook his head, resentment etched into his features as he ran his tongue behind his teeth before clicking it in displeasure. “Why are you even searching for an excuse? What we both did was shitty. But for you it might be even worse because while I was the ‘bad guy’ the whole time, you were still her best friend.”

Steve was well aware. He craved the bliss that came with being ignorant but that was no longer something he could allow himself to do.

“Yeah.” He breathes out, earnest eyes dropping to the scuffed floor below him.

“Yeah? That’s it? You need to like, go beg for mercy or some shit.”

Receiving advice from Eddie Munson was the last thing Steve ever thought he’d be doing and yet here he was. Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson was schooling him and suddenly everything felt so backwards. But maybe that’s how it needed to be in order for things to go back to how they were. For you to at least talk to him, if not to beg for your mercy then to apologize profusely before leaving his fate in your hands.

“I know, man.” A pitiful sigh escaped his lungs, too pitiful for Eddie’s liking.

The smell of fumes throughout the shop lingered in Steve’s nostrils which left him with a tinge of discomfort but nothing could prepare him for the way Eddie almost instantly stood to tower over him despite being around the same height. It was his demeanor that made him feel inferior. Dark eyes, deepening even more so from aggravation, lips contorted into a condemning scowl, fists clenched at his side, knuckles white.

“I don’t think you do, ‘cause why are you coming to me?” Flared nostrils declared a new vendetta against Steve.

“I-I…”

“Man up, Steve. Say whatever you’re trying to say to me, to her. I’m not the one who needs an apology.” It was fair enough. Steve wasn’t sure why he walked into that garage just minutes ago. Maybe it was because despite what everyone says, Eddie was fairly level headed. Maybe it’s because Steve needed someone stubborn to mentally beat some sense into him and Eddie was the only one he could think of to do it with no remorse.

With a noticeable gulp, Steve felt his eyes sting but didn’t dare let any tears surface. He was not throwing a pity party. “I don’t know how. She won’t even talk to me–I–every time I try–”

“That’s not my problem is it? ‘M just your boy toy, remember?”

Ouch.

Among the turmoil Steve had created, he failed to understand that Eddie could be just as affected. And what Eddie wouldn’t willingly reveal was that he was genuinely hurt. Because you were hurt. And because Steve seemed like the most oblivious idiot on the planet. Sure he had his words with you and he wasn’t proud of most of them but that was another beast. He had always been the opposing force, Steve was your right hand man the entire time. In all honesty, Eddie couldn’t care less about Steve using him for pleasure, he cared that he did it at your expense whether he bothered to know that or not the few times they met up. He knew he was just some guy so what was there to lose but Steve? Steve had a lot to lose.

“Eddie, you wanted it too.” Steve’s head shook in contemplation, longing for the right words but always finding the wrong ones.

“Yeah, well not anymore.”

Eddie’s harsh front faltered, exhausted as his shoulders slumped. Steve ran a nervous hand through his stupid big hair and for some reason it put Eddie on edge.

“Obviously.” Steve exhales, nodding before his eyes give away that he was lost in thought.

“So why are you here?”

A valid question. A question that Steve was finding he didn’t want to answer. But he had to.

“Because–because I feel like I, I owe you an apology.” He babbled at first, humiliating himself further before finding his footing and grasping the words that he knew would ground him. Even if he didn’t like it, he knew this was the start of putting the pieces back together.

“Again, you’re talking to the wrong person–” Eddie appeared worn out, head tilted back and gaze fixed to the ceiling as he let out a self soothing breath before being interrupted.

“I’m sorry for trash talking you for as long as we’ve known each other and then using you.” He never thought he’d hear such words from Steve Harrington. Which made it all that much more awkward to respond to.

“Thanks?”

Eddie expects that to be the end of it, waits for Steve to press his lips into a straight line in the silence and then stride out the large bay door without another word but he doesn’t. And he kind of wants to kick his ass as more words begin to pour from his mouth.

“I know…I know she should be the first person I apologize to, and, and I’ve tried to but she’s not my biggest fan right now.” Boo hoo. That’s the only response Eddie can conjure up so he keeps his mouth shut. “And I guess, I feel like I can’t until I fix this first because Eddie…” Steve sucks in such a large breath that Eddie feels like he may have been on the verge of passing out. But he also senses it’s because all of this is very difficult for Steve to say aloud. Within the same breath, Steve releases the rest of the words he was clutching so tightly to in his chest. “She was so head over heels for you back then and I fucking spit on your name no matter how much she talked you up. And I know you ruined things on your own but I went and fucked things up on my own and I don’t know how I could’ve done it so easily knowing, knowing how much she liked you and then how much she was hurt by you. And then I went and did what I did, it just–it doesn’t make sense, I know.”

It’s quiet again. Neither man speaking, only looking at each other in anticipation. And after several moments of distant metal clanging against metal a few bays over, Eddie finally clears his throat.

“Harrington,” He starts, eyes flashing with the most intimidating fire you’d ever see. “You’re throwing the biggest pity party I’ve ever seen and if this is how you plan to apologize to her you should just give up now.”

The sentiment was cruel but beneath it was a plea of ‘get your shit together, please’. And god, he hopes Steve picks up on it.

“Yeah…yeah.” Steve’s eyes were glazed over, the thinnest sheen of tears coating them before he blinked them back, pinching the bridge of his nose between his fingers.

Eddie guesses Wayne is rubbing off on him because his next words come off more wise than cruel. An unexpected empathy resonated within him though he doesn’t fully believe it’s well deserved.

“What you need to do is just admit you messed up. No excuses. If she really matters to you, you don’t need to sit here and apologize to me and get all up in your feelings. You need to talk to her and if she doesn’t wanna listen…” He sighs, a sort of calm overtaking him. “Well, respect it.”

Steve seemed to ponder, the advice overwhelming him but still penetrating through his thick skull.

–

Steve👸: Hey

Steve👸: Can we talk?

Sox🧦 : No

Steve👸 : Five minutes. And then you’ll never have to hear from me again. Promise.

“Who are you texting?” Will leaned over to view your phone screen, ever the nosy boy. Quickly clicking the off button, you refrain from sharing any messy details of what happened between you and Steve. Sure he’d seen the initial smack down in the parking lot which you regret but he didn’t need to know anything more. Hell, he didn’t even know that Robin was out of your circle.

“No one, I was just checking something for one of my assignments.”

“Liar.” What you always forgot was how much of a bloodhound he was. Could sniff out anything that smells slightly off. It always caught you off guard although it only made you look like a fool since he did it time and time again. Throwing a surprise party for his sixteenth birthday was impossible with the way he was such a detective.

“Nuh uh!” You defended, placing your phone face down on the flour coated counter of the Byers kitchen, an egg taking its place in your hand as you cracked it against the off-white ceramic bowl.

“Yuh huh! Give me that–”

“Knock it off!” Waving Will off, you threaten in a simple gesture to let the slimy egg white and yolk ruin his newest Hellfire shirt, a special edition design created just by him. It was quite impressive actually, dragons symmetric on the front, breathing fire onto the logo overlaid with a skull and crossbones.

With a scoff, Will surrenders with his hands thrown up and eyes wide, amusement prominent across his face. “It’s Steve, I already saw it. So what are you trying to hide from me this time?”

“What–I’m not trying to hide anything.” You were just further certifying yourself as a liar, but you felt this one time it was for good reason.

“Then why can’t I see it?”

An intense stare burned into the side of your face as you attempted to resume your unfinished baking, barely even started but the kitchen showcased several dirty bowls, some housed in the sink piled high in soapy water while others were scattered across the laminate. Brownie batter, cookie dough, cake mix, the works. It would appear as if you were preparing for a bake sale if anyone were to walk in. But was just a Friday night turned into a full fledged baking frenzy on a whim. Which was much needed after a particularly stressful shift at The Under-Ground, it had been busier than most days, mostly because fall activities began to ensue. Hawkins’ famous hayride had started up for the season and dropped off several families in the square who only trickled into the shop for hot drinks and buttery yet sweet pastries. Screaming children were not something you were anticipating hearing all night but it made you appreciate the calm of closing up after, only the sounds of you dropping change into the register mixed with Eddie humming under his breath as he swept up graced your tired ears.

“Just leave it alone. Please?” An eggshell is tossed into the makeshift scraps bowl you’d set aside nearby, a bit too aggressively for comfort. A telltale sign that Will should not leave it alone.

“I’m not a baby. You don’t need to protect me from all the ugly shit that happens.” He was seventeen, still a baby to you. But the irritation was apparent in the way that he grabbed the bowl of brownie batter from the counter, glaring at it like it owed him money, however you knew the glare was meant for you. “I wanna be there for you like you’re there for me.”

Fuck. That just about ripped your heart in two. He was such a sweet kid, always wanting to do right by those he cared about. You bounced the idea back and forth, should you enlighten him or continue shielding him? Your decision was made for you when the words tumbled from your lips, your subconscious declaring that Will could forever be the baby of the group but he was growing up regardless and you couldn’t hold him to that standard for eternity. He would eventually have to face uncomfortable situations and hiding them from him completely might do more harm than good, he deserved to be in the know and to feel like an equal rather than some naive child.

“Okay. Um–yeah, it’s uh, it’s Steve…”

“And…?”

“He just wants to talk.”

Your wooden spoon scraped against the bowl, combining the dry and wet ingredients together, your concentration never leaving the forming batter. Red velvet. Will set down the brownie batter he had been inspecting, reaching for a glass dish and proceeding to butter it up generously, the oven already preheated behind him.

“You haven’t talked to him since…” He cocks a curious brow at you, momentarily looking up at you from his current task.

“No. No, I don’t even wanna see him.” Your admission is quiet, almost ashamed. “But, um, let’s just, let’s just finish this up.” The attempt to change the subject fails, the boy dropping his head down to catch your averted eyes.

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“No.” You tread carefully, ever so cautious of the fact that Will had the ability to catch the slightest hesitation in your tone.

“Really? Cause I smell bullshit.” Such a damn bloodhound.

“Why would I want to talk to him? Didn’t you see what happened?” Though it was a fair point, you knew you were being avoidant and that it wouldn’t necessarily help anything, only prolong the pain and the awkwardness that would come with finally speaking to him. It had been weeks which would already create a nasty film between the two of you, something grimy and difficult to just scrub away.

Will offers a sympathetic sigh, and unspoken ‘I know you’re hurting but isolating yourself is only going to hurt more’ and you’re fully aware that he knows that feeling all too well. “I did see and it was really bad. But you’re not even gonna hear what he has to say about it?” His gentle approach was appreciated though it was just the way you talked to each other about these things. No judgment, only the right questions.

“Will, you have no idea of some of the other things that happened years ago that make this so much worse than it already is.” You’d regret how whiny you sounded except he’d seen you at your most vulnerable before so it was nothing he hadn’t experienced before.

“Okay, then what do I not know?” The gooey chocolate batter is poured into the glass dish he had prepared, resembling how your feelings were about to ooze right out of your very being.

“I’m not getting into all that now.”

“No, you don’t get to do that!” He doesn’t sound unkind but not the friendliest either, slamming the now empty bowl on the counter. You had it coming, you suppose. “You’re visibly stressed out, even worse lately, I’m one of the only ones that notices and I’m not even allowed to know the full story?”

“Will.”

There’s no saying no to his expression, blue eyes blinking at you and brows raised in anticipation. There’s no trace of judgment, just curiosity and worry. And just as you’re about to dive in head first and reveal all that you tried to withhold, the ring of the doorbell shuts you up just as fast.

The digital numbers on the stove read 10:46 PM, an ungodly hour for anyone to be ringing someone’s doorbell which is why you and Will share the same puzzled look, eyes shifting from each other toward the front door just off the kitchen. Will doesn’t necessarily live in the most populated area so there’s reason to be concerned over a visitor at such late hours.

“You get it.” Will rushes out. “Nose goes!” A speedy finger touches the tip of his nose, your cheeks flushing in irritation as the doorbell chimes once more. “Go!” He whisper yells, gently pushing you toward the door. A scowl remains on your face as you take your time. Will would do anything for you. Except sacrifice himself to the serial killer knocking at his own front door apparently. You’d never cursed a door so harshly for not having a peephole.

Deep down, you knew it’d more than likely be someone like Jonathan. It was the logical explanation, he’d lost his key and since he didn’t live here anymore, now residing in an apartment closer to downtown with Nancy, he didn’t have the urgency to replace it. But Jonathan would usually be pounding on the door, announcing that it was him. Could it be Joyce? Doubtful. She always knew where everything was and keys were the most important out of everything you’d come to learn after she scolded Jonathan for not replacing his old key to the house just in case of an emergency. Maybe it was Lucas? He never screamed or announced his presence when showing up. Couldn’t be Dustin or Mike, they were too rowdy and would never wait this long before jiggling the handle and yelling that they knew Will was home and to ‘answer the damn door’. It could be El? But never Max. Max had a distinct knock, firm and heavy, no bullshit, never rang the doorbell. The build up was only making you more anxious by the second as you’d reached for the doorknob. You’d probably be the first one dead in a horror movie, you had no idea why you let Will force you to answer his door. Regardless, you ever so slightly twisted the knob and the door creaked open, only a sliver of the outside visible as you tried your best to peek around the crack. And before you could even begin to make out any figure awaiting entry on the porch, a large hand splayed across the wood and pushed it effortlessly, sending you stumbling back as the wind knocked out of you.

“Okay, Byers. Where’s my dice? And my game controller?”

Eddie.

He’d side stepped through the door, forcing his way in obviously only expecting Will but still not realizing you stood before him as he glanced around the house.

“C’mon you knew I’d be stopping by after work, little Byers. I’ve been looking for that controller for fucking weeks–”

You could pinpoint the moment realization hit him that he was mouthing off to you and not Will. His eyes seemed to almost soften. Pupils dilating so suddenly. And then he was speechless, mouth opening and closing but words never spilling out. Then it hit you that you probably looked ridiculous in the Mickey Mouse apron you had been strutting around in, various types of batter smeared on your cheeks and chin, maybe some on your nose too but you couldn’t remember. And god, you were wearing your fuzzy pajama pants littered with pumpkins and bats finished off with some fuzzy socks that were striped like candy corn.

Eddie had never wanted to fall to his knees for someone so badly in his life.

He’d never seen you like this before.

Tacky.

In the most adorable way.

“I–um, I was looking for–”

“Will?” You finish for him, desperately trying to pull our eyes away from him but finding it impossible. And then you realized what he was wearing which only spurred on your need to drink him in. A black Metallica shirt cropped just above his happy trail, sleeves cut off to display his tattooed arms and black sweats that hung just right on his hips complete with a pair of black converse on his feet. For a second you wondered how he wasn’t shivering. You could only hope that he wouldn’t notice your drooling, praying that the dim lighting would cast enough shadows over your face that any fondness you were displaying would be hidden.

“Y-yeah.” He swallows, fingers tangling in a few of his curls before resting back at his side, keys dangling in his other hand.

“Kitchen.” You mumble, pointing.

He nods, the silence taunting you both as you trail behind him into the kitchen. Will is already staring wide eyed as you enter, looking between you with something amusing behind his expression. And in that moment the awkwardness melts off of Eddie, his usual cocky self returning.

“Dice? Controller? Man, I told you I was gonna come by–”

“I forgot but I have both–”

“Oh, you forgot?” A mischievous grin overtakes Eddie’s face, Will playing along with it as they both brace their palms flat against the kitchen island, staring at each other instantly but with playful intention.

“Ed, don’t do this.” Will warns, unable to maintain a serious face, corners of his lips pulling despite his best efforts.

“Oh, I have to.”

Eddie fakes him out, body about to move to the right but instead quickly changing to the left to which Will screeches in mock fear, rushing to the other end of the kitchen. Any time Will goes to make a move, Eddie is seconds quicker than him. When Will tries to make his big escape he’s instantly caught in a chokehold, the metalhead’s arm secured around him as he ruffles his hair with a fist, the classic noogie. Will’s laughter is contagious, a few ‘stops’ littered throughout and you can’t help but join and giggle as you watch the scene play out before you.

“Dice?” Eddie halts his movements to ask, side eyeing the boy.

“On the desk–in–in my room.” He answers out of breath, clutching onto Eddie’s forearm.

Eddie continues his torture on Will, rough housing a little more before stopping once again.

“Controller?”

“Coffee table! Are we done?!”

“Nope.” A full on wrestling match takes place in the small confines of the kitchen, both boys stumbling around and bumping into cabinets.

It was weird. You knew Eddie and Will were pretty close but you’d never seen them like this and maybe it's because you refused to linger in a room long enough if Eddie was there. Now you didn’t really have the urge to leave. All you could do was watch. Eddie’s dramatics flared as he cackled in Will’s face, Will telling him to ‘shut the fuck up’ between gasps for air.

“Tap out.” Eddie demands.

“No!”

“Tap. Out.”

At some point you hadn’t even paid attention to the way Will hesitated in surrendering, you were too caught up in the way Eddie’s already cropped shirt rode up in the position he was in, his waist looking all too enticing, lower back on full display however you refrained from trailing your eyes up his spine.

Stop it.

“Okay, I tap out!” Will smacks his hand against Eddie’s forearm that was secured around him, instantly granted relief after saying the magic words.

“Eddie The Banished reigns supreme.” He pumps his fist in the air in triumph, face scrunched in victory.

You roll your eyes but in all honesty, it’s not out of pure annoyance just this once. It feels more like when a friend does something stupid and all you can feel is warmth flush through your body and your initial reaction comes naturally. Effortlessly.

“Okay, now get your precious things and go.” Will points at the door, sass overtaking every movement, the playful energy still buzzing between them.

A pang in your heart says don’t go. But you remain quiet as a mouse in the corner between the sink and the microwave. You don’t mean that. You try to bargain with yourself. Seeing him in this light does not excuse his past no matter how much of an ache you feel in your chest. The good kind.

“Okay, okay.” Eddie sighs, catching his breath, a grin still stretched across his face. “Hey, what the fuck happened here?” He stops in his tracks, gesturing to the atrocity that has become every surface of the kitchen. Batter and dough of all kinds smeared along the countertops, eggshells discarded along with balled up foil on Will’s side of the mess, and of course the towering bowls just about ready to tumble out of the sink, filled with suds, wooden spoons and whisks. And of course the bag of chocolate chips that had spilled, sprinkled across the surface, some even dismissed on the floor, there was even some kind of dough caked onto the handle of the fridge.

“We’re having a bake sale.” You break your prolonged silence from the corner, mouth upturned in almost a smirk but not quite, it’s more like you’re holding in a laugh. At the sound of your voice, Eddie’s head snaps in your direction, molten chocolate eyes landing on you in such a way that has your breath hitching.

“A bake sale?” He questions, doubt written across his handsome features, his tone hinting at the fact that he knows you’re bullshitting him.

“Mhm.”

“Aren’t you like–aren’t you bad at baking?”

How does he know that?

Will’s eyes widen and he sucks in the most subtle breath. That’s how.

“Can’t I be bad at something but also still try?” You argue.

“I dunno, can you?” It’s almost mean, almost. But it doesn’t feel the same as when he’s usually ridiculing you. The dimple peeking out at you provides evidence of an opposite intention. He’s teasing but not to be a dick, unless you were reading him wrong. And there was very little chance that you were since the past few weeks at work, he had almost left you alone all together save for a few questions here and there and maybe a few bad jokes. But other than that he was solely a coworker who you held no personal ties to.

“Well that’s how you learn. You keep trying until you get it. So far nothing has burned and the batter tastes good–try it.” You don’t know what you’re trying to prove but your body had already been on autopilot, it’s sole mission to keep him from leaving. A wooden spoon coated in red velvet cake batter is offered to him, you twirling it to keep it from dripping everywhere. Eddie glances from you to the spoon a few times rather quickly, almost as if he’s waiting for you to psych him out and tell him to go to hell. In a way he wishes you would just so he knows he isn’t dreaming. He makes his way around the island, standing next to you, not too close but just close enough that he can steal the spoon from you, his tongue licking up the back of it. The sight is strangely erotic.

“Not bad.” He hums, continuing until the spoon is halfway clean. You want to mention that he’ll risk getting sick from eating too much, raw eggs aren’t exactly ideal to eat even if disguised as a delicious batter, but that would show that you care. Which you don’t.

“What am I missing?” Will addresses the elephant in the room, containing a smile that might be too big for his face if he were to let it take over.

“What?” You ask, head tilted in a way that has Eddie’s eyes lingering for a moment before turning his head and copying your actions, tongue still committed to the spoon, licking up every ounce of sweetness.

“Are we–did we–end up in a parallel universe? Why aren’t you threatening to kick his ass?” He points an accusatory finger at you. “And why aren’t you making snarky comments?” He points to Eddie who is still too busy licking any remnants of the mixture.

All you can offer is a casual shrug before snatching the utensil right from Eddie’s hand, tossing it into the overflowing sink. “I’ll kick your ass if you were even going to think about double dipping that spoon in my bowl.” You warn, a touch mean. “There, are you happy?” You look to Will for approval, skepticism still painted all over his face, his arms crossed in uncertainty.

“I wasn’t done.” Eddie frowns, ignoring your threat to instead dip a daring finger into the bowl of artificial red.

“Hey!” Both you and Will begin to reprimand him.

“Just one more–” He doesn’t finish his thought as you grab the bowl, holding it behind your back.

“Say I’m good at baking. Both of you.”

Eddie and Will look to each other in perplexity. Will can’t comprehend the sudden playfulness you have for both him and Eddie. Usually this would end up in an argument, one saying something a bit too offensive for the other’s taste and from there it would spiral. Instead neither party is engaged in conflict but rather play and it’s not unwelcome, just…weird.

“Excuse you?” Eddie takes the bait.

“The two of you seem to talk trash about my baking skills behind my back but I didn’t see you complaining two seconds ago while you salivated all over the spoon.”

You only receive a scoff in response, Eddie crossing his arms as if to appear more intimidating. He only looks more like a misunderstood teddy bear.

“Say it.”

“Anyone can make cake out of a box.” He retaliates, Will releasing a small gasp as he hides his smile under his hand.

“Oh, okay. I’d love to see you out of all people bake a cake.” You challenge him.

“This is more like it.” Will mumbles, though he knows this is not at all the usual bickering that happens between you.

“Oh, you want me to out-Betty Crocker you?” Eddie threatens.

“You can try.” You shrug, setting your bowl back onto the counter.

“No, no. I will.”

“Guys it’s literally cake from a box.” Will intervenes.

And so started the greatest bake off the Byers’ kitchen has ever seen.

–

“Okay, wait. I have a grievance with this competition.” Eddie speaks up, abandoning an uncracked egg on the countertop only for it to roll off and crack at his feet. “Damn.”

“What’s the matter now?” Will asks in mock annoyance. Every other minute Eddie had a near microscopic complaint but it only entertained you. Curses at wrong measurements, that his bowl wasn’t as pretty as the others, or that he wanted the whisk Will was using.

“Why don’t I get matching pants?”

You glance down at your Halloween themed pajama pants and then to Will’s. They were a steal at Target and you couldn’t resist, knowing Will would love them as much as you did. That, and every year you bought a matching pair for both fall and christmas. You can’t help but feel a huge smile pull at your lips, the sight of Eddie pouting with his hands on his hips is all too endearing.

“For one, you weren’t even invited to this sleepover.” You sass, pouring your newly mixed chocolate cake batter into its pan. “And two, this is our thing.” You gesture between you and Will standing a few feet next to you, Eddie directly across the island sporting an even bigger frown.

“Yeah, you kinda crashed our party.” Will adds, snickering with you.

“Wow. I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that and instead you pledged your undying loyalty to me.” Always a drama queen. “Whoa–wait, wait! How are you already done I haven’t even–” He quickly realizes you’re already setting your masterpiece in the oven while his bowl still contains both dry and wet ingredients, unmixed.

“Guess we can already tell who’s gonna ‘out-Betty Crocker’ who.” You smirk.

“Oh, hell no.” He mutters under his breath, suddenly focused on mixing.

While Eddie just about buries his head in the bowl, Will graces you with a look. A knowing look. You claim innocence with a lift of your brow but you both know. You’re just too ignorant right now to acknowledge it.

–

Seeing Eddie Munson dancing and screaming to Cruel Summer by Taylor Swift was something you could never even fathom and yet here he was. Unapologetically singing every word and putting on one giant show with Will, singing into random kitchen utensils while the speaker blared the song. He knew every word. You didn’t dare interrupt the choreography they had come up with on the spot, watching from your comfortable perch on the stool at the counter.

Will sounded like a dying animal and it occasionally had you reaching up to cover your ears but your smile never faltered. And Eddie was unstoppable. He didn’t sound that bad though he was shouting along with Will at the top of his lungs so you figure if he actually tried he would sound angelic. Once the song reaches the bridge you can’t help but drown in your own laughter, both of them strutting in between where the living room meets the kitchen as if it were their own personal runway.

Your eyes open, nearly crying only to find Eddie just feet away extending his ‘microphone’ to you with a raised brow and a cocky grin. Your immediate reaction is to shake your head, your nerves instantly on edge at the mere idea of holding any kind of attention.

“C’mon, you’re gonna miss the bridge again!” Eddie waves you over in a rush. You don’t budge, a flash of worry washing over you and it seems that it was written all over your face. “C’mon Roadkill, don’t make us finish off without ya.” He half jokes, Will still screeching like a banshee behind him. “Do it for little Byers.” He cocks his head toward the boy, pleading eyes begging you to change your mind.

Slowly, you emerge from your comfy perch, snatching up your own ‘microphone’ with a bashful gleam in your eyes. Just in time for the bridge again, you strut toward Will who excitedly starts jumping and nodding at your participation.

“I don't wanna keep secrets just to keep you!” You yell in each other’s faces, wheezing as you continue dancing–if you could even call it dancing. Your confidence skyrocketed. Turning toward Eddie, you sing to each other the last line of the bridge.

“And I screamed for whatever it’s worth, I love you ain’t that the worst thing you ever heard!”

Chests heaving and mouths hung open, his eyes swallow you whole, dark honey slowly pulling you under. Your first instinct is that you should run but he feels too much like home to ever willingly leave. If it’s so wrong, why does it feel so right to stare into pools of deep amber?

~end~

Author's Note: okay if you're reading this TY SO MUCH. The scene where reader is kinda admiring eddie at work, i had 1 step forward 3 steps back by olivia rodrigo playing along with it for me and rather than something super sad, it's kind of the opposite in this case as theyre coming out of their angsty era so if you just listen to that and imagine her admiring him with a little content smile on his face as he works it makes me want to SCREAM lmk if it does the same for you ok BYE <3

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tags - @mmunson86 @haylaansmi @batkin028 @obscureenigmatic @micheledawn1975 @dreamerjj @hideoutside @hellfirefiend @emilyslutface @rustboxstarr @3rd-conchord @eddiessteady @lightcommastix @kittydeadbones @shadows-echoes @str4ngerthingsslut @winchester-angel @elegantkoalapaper

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x fem reader #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson series #stranger things fic #st fic

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snowbellewells · 2 years

Text

Self Promo Sunday: “Find My Way Back to You”

(I started this one shot before 6x15 "A Wondrous Place" aired, and therefore it picks up right where "Page 23" (6x14) ended. It allows for Snow to do more what I would have loved to have seen from her in 6x15 – encourage Emma that there is no way her True Love would leave her, and take action to help her daughter find out what is wrong. In general, I wanted the Charmings to be more concerned about Killian and know that his just vanishing after a fight didn't add up, so I wrote it. (I even wrote a separate short fic, a divergent/missing scene from 6x15 for Henry, for the same reason!) Also, my first thought at Gideon not wanting Killian around was that he had a curse planned for Emma. I still want them have an actual, magical whoosh of air, rainbow-tinged TLK as well, so this is what happened in response to all of that going on in my mind.

Can also be found on AO3 and ff.net

Summary: When Gideon strikes at Emma in her weakest moment, it will take her family's support and the return of her True Love to put things to rights.

by: @snowbellewells

Three a.m. and still no sign of her pirate. Their huge two story house feels as cold and empty in the silent dark of late night turned early morning as it had during those nightmarish days when she had ensconced herself in it as the Dark One in her solitary lair. Just as those ghastly memories have begun to vanish for good, the foreboding tendrils wind their way back in Killian's absence. She did this; her eyes close as she once more stares out the window into the dark, deserted yard, forehead resting against the frigid glass, chilling her skin along with the cold she feels spreading through her chest. Unbidden, Killian's pointed, angry words as the Dark One himself ring in her mind – cutting like tiny knives – "you push away anyone who gets close to you…that's why you'll always be an orphan…"

Knowing now that he does not truly feel that way, that he hates the fact she ever heard those words from his lips, does little to comfort her alone in the still watch of the night. The remembrance of cold winter nights curled up together under heaps of cozy blankets as he whispered and kissed the very opposite into her skin – how bloody brilliant she is, how she is his match, his other half, how they will always have each other and never be alone again, how he will never leave her – is cold comfort now that she fears she has driven him away.

Listlessness overtakes the Savior as she paces a sleepless route from window to sink to the living room couch and back again, peace and rest as far from her as they have ever been. At last, she curls into the oversized armchair in the corner, the one which has become Killian's favorite place to read the piles of books that both Belle and Henry recommend and loan him, her eyes glazing over until she barely notices the dark lightening to grey, then streaking the sky with pinks and golds as the sun rises again. The new day dawns with her True Love missing, and though she still believes in him and clings to her faith that he wouldn't desert her, he isn't here. She had been justified in what she'd said to him – he does have to trust her, just as she must have faith in him – but the fact that he is out there alone somewhere hurting and drowning in self-hatred, that he didn't feel welcome in their home, makes the words, warranted or not, feel hollow.

When the door creaks open and her mother enters, there to pick Emma up for their near-weekly breakfast at Granny's, Emma barely flinches or even looks up at Snow's chipper greeting. It doesn't take long for her mother to gather that something isn't right when Emma gives no answer, and when she rounds the corner into the living room to find her grown daughter curled up as small as she can make herself in the chair, arms around her legs and chin resting on her knees, Snow's happily excited face falls rapidly.

She comes to kneel in front of her child, resting her hands over Emma's clenched ones soothingly, and looking up into her blank, unfocused face. "Honey?... Emma?" She chafes her hands up and down her daughter's forearms until Emma finally startles slightly and seems to register her mother's presence. "What is it? Are you alright? …Where's Killian?"

It is this last question which finally seems to snap her daughter back into the present, and as she turns to really focus on Snow, her stoic façade truly crumbles. Shaking her head, she finally clasps her mother's hand in return, and whispers in as fragile a voice as her mother has ever heard her use, "I don't know, Mom… I don't know."

"Well, come then," Snow soothes, pulling Emma to her in a hug, and holding her as she rocks back and forth slightly, comforting her princess as she aches to have done all those missed years Emma had been growing up. When she sits back slightly, gently brushing back the loose strands of hair that have escaped Emma's braid with maternal tenderness, "We need to go find him," she urges. "The way that man loves you? Whatever happened with the two of you, you'll work it out. He's probably on his way to you as we speak."

Emma knows her mother doesn't have the whole story, but despite all that, Snow's patent hope and optimism bolster her spirits enough to urge her to her feet as her mother pulls her up. Soon, she is leading the way down to the docks in search of her pirate.

So it is a sleep-deprived, fuzzy and anxiety-distracted version of herself who stands on the wooden planks, frozen in unprepared surprise and vulnerability when Gideon materializes behind them, malicious grin on his face and a taunt on his cruelly curved lips. "Looking for someone, 'Savior'?"

Emma scowls, feeling the heat in her blood rising angrily at the look on his face – just knowing without a doubt that this freak has done something to keep Killian from her, to keep him from coming back home. "You know that I am. What have you done with him?" she growls.

"Nothing really," Gideon shrugs nonchalantly, gloating at his power over the situation, much in the way his father always has. "He'll be quite alright, I'm sure. He's just several thousand leagues under the sea – well away from here and unable to disrupt my plans."

"Your plans?!" Emma spits. "Just what are you planning anyway, you sick little – "

But before she can finish, Gideon flings out a glowing hand, magic shooting toward her from it at top speed. Emma reacts quickly to throw up a defensive shield, but it isn’t quite fast enough. She has been fighting nonstop for so long, one villain, realm, and catastrophe after another, to save everyone but herself, and she is just too tired. Her sleepless night, distress, and the lackluster concern for her own safety all work against her to let Gideon gain the edge, and she freezes for a second as what he has thrown at her makes impact. Then, her eyes glass over, fall closed, and she crumples senseless to the surface of the pier.

Snow is stock-still and speechless at her side, too shocked to move at their robed attacker's sudden appearance, at least until Emma falls. On her knees beside her daughter instantly, a cry of distress escapes the Enchanted Forest's monarch as she shakes Emma's shoulder in futile hope of rousing her.

"That won't work," Gideon intones confidently as he watches her efforts. "You of all people ought to recognize the spell, ‘Snow White’. But I've tweaked it a bit for my own purposes. Take it from someone who – like your daughter – grew up painfully without a mother, whatever the reasons, I'm not sure you could waken her, even without my refinements. All the same, I've guarded against it, just in case. You will keep her safe though, until I decide what to do with her, won't you?" And with a sickeningly self-satisfied smile, he vanishes in a red column of magical smoke.

~ CS ~ CS ~ CS ~

Killian Jones is beside himself as the Nautilus finally resurfaces in Storybrooke's harbor once more. If it weren't for Nemo, Liam, and the once again fortuitously met Ariel, he would probably have pulled all his hair out or maimed his one good hand from punching walls in frustration. As is, it has been nearly a week since their ship had been sent forcibly from the Land Without Magic. In every waking moment since – and they've all been waking; he cannot sleep, only pace his quarters, stomach churning at the thought that he will have appeared to abandon Emma like so many before him – he has been struggling, racing against time, desperate to get back to his Love. Not only can he not bear the thought of her hurting because of him, of it seeming for even a second that he would desert her, but the more time that passes, and the more complicated it proves to get home, the more frighteningly sure Killian becomes that Gideon needed him specifically out of the picture. Whatever the Dark One's spawn has in mind, it means danger for Emma, and he isn't there to fight at her side.

With hardly a backward glance, he tears from the hold and clamors up onto the docks the moment the ship settles in a berth. Running toward their shared home as if that wretched hell hound from the Underworld is on his heels once more, Killian barely calls a 'thank you' over his shoulder to his comrades before he is halfway up the street.

Bursting through the front door after clattering up the steps of their porch, Killian calls out Emma's name, hoarse with panic, even as he can clearly see that the lights are dim and the place is eerily still. When searching every room on the first floor in rapid succession yields nothing, he bounds up the stairs to their bedroom, still crying out for his Swan; still hoping against hope that she will rise from their bed to welcome him, arms outstretched and both of their sins ready to be forgiven with love.

Finding that room empty and cold as well is the battering ram which almost breaks him. 'Where is she?' 'What's happened to her?' repeats round and round in his head, as his adrenaline flees and he sinks on suddenly weak, shaking legs to the edge of the bed, praying she is alright, that she hasn't given up on him and left this home they dreamed of for so long – that he isn't too late. For a moment, he buries his face in his hand, a few tears leaking from his eyes here in this dusky quiet where no one else can see.

His despair does not last though – whether it is the small kernel of undefeatable hope, purpose, love for Emma – for his family – or just plain stubbornness; whatever it is that has kept him pressing on throughout lonely centuries, it pulls Killian Jones to his feet again. Soon he is back down the stairs, across the porch and moving down the street, instinct and his heart guiding him where he needs to go, and urging him forward as quickly as he can get there.

At Emma's parents' loft apartment, he hesitates only briefly, steeling himself with a deep breath for the anger and betrayal he may face, and the fist to the nose Dave may greet him with. But he doesn't have time to waste; he has already been gone too long. With every moment he is apart from his Swan, his desperation and fear for her grows, and he cannot help imagining worse and worse reasons why Gideon might have wanted him far away.

Knocking on the door, mouth dry, heart pounding, Killian has only moments to contemplate what to say, if he will have to push them aside to gain entrance, if he will be able to stand the harsh words he is bound to hear and the disappointment in eyes which had finally begun to regard him as a part of their family, when he hears the lock turn and the door swings open to reveal a rumpled-looking and red-eyed Snow White. To his shock, and throwing him completely off balance, Snow reaches for his arm and pulls him into the apartment, hugging him tightly with her voice muffled against his jacket as she says, "Thank goodness you're here, Killian! It was starting to look like something awful had happened to you…"

Killian sputters disbelievingly even as Snow pulls away, wiping her cheeks and sniffling a bit, and allows her to drag him further into the main room, even as he stumbles over his own feet. "But…I…You are? Did Emma not tell you what I've done?"

Snow shakes her head, dithering and waving her hand as if to bat his qualms away. "She didn't explain…just that she didn't know where you were." And here the rightful ruler of the Enchanted Forest gives him the smallest of sad little smiles, "None of that matters right now. We need you… Emma needs you."

"Doesn't matter?" Killian repeats, blinking and completely nonplussed.

Snow dips her head, hiding her expression from him as she leads him on by the hand, up the steps to the room Killian knows was Emma's for a short time.

However, if he had thought himself confused and troubled already, it is nothing compared to the sight which overwhelms him upon entering Emma's small boudoir. There, lying as if in peaceful, permanent slumber, is his Emma, stretched out upon the bed, eyes closed in seeming rest with her golden hair arrayed across the pillow in a spill of light and hands folded over each other on her stomach. Yet, having felt her curled against him many times in the tiniest possible ball, as if protecting herself even in sleep, and knowing how often she tosses and turns, tangling her long legs in the sheets, Killian realizes immediately something is not right – Emma is never so still.

Even if that had not alerted him, the appearance of David, Henry, and Belle around the bed would have. Dave is slumped in a chair by the nightstand, looking devastated and lost as he watches over his daughter, and Henry, head bowed and silent, seated on the bed by his mother's feet, while Belle stands near him, worried and torn, her hand on her grandson's shoulder. It flashes through his head that they resemble the mournful tableau around a glass coffin in the cartoon Emma and Henry had gleefully shown him some weeks ago, the one that supposedly told her parents' story. Except these were not somewhat cutesy hand drawn dwarves; these were the members of his family, and he had no such illusions that things could be righted as instantaneously. Surely if the immediately obvious solution could work, they would have done it already?

Slow, hesitant steps bring him closer to the bed where his princess, his True Love, lies. And though he wants to fall to his knees, rail and scream at the universe and the unfairness of her loss, he finds that he can only stare dazedly until he finally reaches her other side, and runs a tender, aching finger along a strand of her hair.

David looks up at his entrance, and though his mouth tightens in a hard, thin line, he says nothing, spews none of the accusations Killian had expected from him, nor does he order the pirate from his home.

"Dave…I…" Killian starts, swallowing hard and trying to offer any kind of apology that could possibly seem like enough. Even if the other man doesn't know the horrible discovery about his father's long ago murder, Prince Charming may well believe that Killian left his daughter without a word when she was in grave danger and needing his support.

But the prince shakes his head slowly, dismissing the need. "All of that can wait for later," he sighs, voice low and ragged. "I knew something wasn't right with your disappearance anyway. Just… please … wake my daughter."

Killian is taken aback, jerking upright in surprise. "How can I?" he asks, reaching to twine his fingers with Emma's limp, cool ones, needing the contact whether she can press his in return or not. "If you or Henry couldn't wake her, why would I be able to, after how I've ruined what was between us?'

Belle speaks up then, her voice shaky with a clear mix of concern and guilt. "The best we can figure is that… G-Gideon altered the Sleeping Curse. Possibly because Henry has shared a True Love's Kiss with her before, he is unable to repeat the action? And…" she trails off hesitantly, as David picks up the explanation.

"…And because Snow and I weren't there for her all those years, despite my best intentions, in some way I did fail her. At any rate, what we have with our own daughter must not be strong enough to be True Love either." His head bows again to rest on Emma's shoulder, the agonized emotion in her father's voice and the defeated curve of his strong shoulders unravelling. Killian that much more.

Then Snow speaks up just behind him, her voice soft yet full of hope as she prods him with a hand at his back. "You're the only one who can bring her back, Killian. I know it! I've never seen her look at anyone else the way she does at you. She wasn't herself without you, even before Gideon did this, and she needs to know you're here."

Shaking his head, Killian licks his lips nervously, going down on his knees at Emma's side, pulling her hand to his chest and looking at her son. Henry meets his gaze and gives his mom's other True Love a nod of urging encouragement, a tiny, watery grin lifting one corner of his mouth.

Bending his head to the pillow beside hers, Killian closes his eyes for a moment, gathering his courage and praying that the bond they have shared is still alive; for she does not deserve this fate. "Swan, I love you… more than I can ever express, despite how I must have hurt you unwillingly. Please… come back to us. Come back to me."

Then, with infinite adoration he leans forward, pressing his lips to hers once more in a sweet kiss. He has missed her so much in the last few days and nights that it feels instantly as if he is once more whole – like he has finally, truly, come home. In the following second, a whoosh of air and light sweeps through the room, ruffling their hair and clothes, sweeping up and invigorating them all. Rainbow color seems to radiate out in a wave of electric power from where their lips meet, and it steals Killian's breath. His heart near ceases to beat as he stares in awe at his princess' face.

Emma's lashes flutter, then she blinks rapidly, sucking in a huge gasp of air as she stirs, and finally Killian feels as if he can breathe again. She sits up quickly, a smile lighting her face as she reaches out for him and pulls him close desperately. "Killian," she exclaims, "you came back!"

Tears threaten, and he has to swallow several times to answer in a rough murmur, "Emma…Love…of course I did. I never wanted to leave you."

She nods against his shoulder, burrowing closer in his embrace, and neither of them even budge when first Henry, and then the rest, pile on in relief and joy, making it a chaotic, clumsy six-person hug. The warmth and belonging spread through his veins and push out the chill loneliness Killian had feared taking over him once more. Laughing and breathing in the warm cinnamon scent of her, he buries his nose in Emma's hair, feels Henry and Belle at his back, and lets Snow's hope fill the last empty cracks hidden away in his soul. No more fear of being lost at sea. He has his harbor, and he means to stay.

Tagging: @kmomof4 @searchingwardrobes @jennjenn615 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @jrob64 @apiratewhopines @cosette141 @optomisticgirl @tiganasummertree @spartanguard @therooksshiningknight @laschatzi @donteattheappleshook @elizabeethan @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @gingerchangeling @kday426 @ineffablecolors @let-it-raines @drowned-dreamer @teamhook @revanmeetra87 @winterbaby89 @ilovemesomekillianjones @sotangledupinit @justanother-unluckysoul @xhookswenchx @thislassishooked @linda8084 @lfh1226-linda @wefoundloveunderthelight

#self promo sunday #cs canon divergent ff #ouat s6 missing moment one shot #find my way back to you #cs ff #cs one shot #cs flangst #TLK

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findingjoynweirdstuff · 3 years

Text

DSMP Anniversary Recap: THE DISC WAR

Chaos breaks out across the server after Sapnap burns Ponk’s Lemon Tree…

The server’s first all-out civil war.

---

VOD LINKS:

Tubbo

Purpled

Ponk [unavailable]

Tommyinnit

Punz [unavailable]

Sapnap

---

Late the previous night, Sapnap came online and set Ponk’s Lemon Tree on fire.

The day starts when Tubbo logs onto the server.

---

- The previous stream, Tubbo lost all his belongings. Chat tells him to check Ponk’s tree and Tubbo runs over

- As he approaches the second Lemon Tree, he sees that it’s on fire. Tubbo quickly towers up to try and put it out. He thinks that it’s his fault and worries that he’ll get blamed for this, as he’s the only one on the server at the moment

- Tubbo tries his best, but by the time the fire is out, the tree is in ruins. He learns that Sapnap is responsible. Tubbo goes back to his house to get wood to patch the tree up. He rebuilds the broken section of the tree

- While he’s out gathering logs, he notices a little chick following him

Tubbo: “Oh my god, I’m gonna name you Benson! You look like a Benson.”

- He throws a couple eggs at the chick to try and get it to walk after him and one of the eggs hatches into a second chick. Now there are two Bensons

- Tubbo does his best to continue fixing the tree. Ponk logs on. Tubbo tells him he is sorry about the tree. Ponk logs off. Some time later, while Tubbo is mining, Ponk logs back on

Ponk: someone is gonna pay for this

- Tubbo tells him he tried his best. Ponk tells him to save it for court. He says he’s gathering evidence, then logs back off again

- Afterwards, Tubbo goes back to the forest with some leads to retrieve the Bensons. He picks one of the Bensons to gift to Punz and brings the other one back to his house

- Tubbo works on building and Purpled logs on. Purpled wanders around the SMP, trying to find his way around the server. He goes up the path to Tommy’s house and wonders where to set up his own house

- Ponk logs on again, and this time Alyssa does as well

- Purpled runs into Alyssa by her house while riding a llama. He joins VC with Tubbo, who fills him in about Sapnap stealing Tommy’s Netherite and setting Ponk’s tree on fire

- Alyssa tells Tubbo he owes her a diamond. Tubbo goes to her house to talk. Meanwhile, Sapnap logs on with murder on his mind. Tommy left signs at Alyssa’s house framing Tubbo for taking a diamond. Tubbo proves it wasn’t him by getting his first diamond achievement

- Ponk is scared to find that Sapnap has OP gear and asks Alyssa to lend him her horse. Sapnap says he will kill her. As Sapnap chases Ponk, armored with Tommy’s Netherite and diamond armor, Ponk asks Tubbo to help him

- Sapnap asks Ponk to apologize, but Ponk doesn’t want to after Sapnap burned his tree. Ponk borrows Alyssa’s horse. Alyssa protests because Sapnap might kill it, but Ponk says Sapnap wouldn’t

- Sapnap comes over and tells them that this is his and Alyssa’s house. He tells Ponk to defend his tree and runs back down the path

- Sapnap kills Alyssa’s horse and then Ponk. Tubbo wonders if this is a common occurrence. Sapnap says he won’t burn down the house, but that Ponk challenged him

- Tommy joins VC as they reach the tree. Sapnap tells Tubbo to choose wisely

Sapnap: you have all brought fighting to a once peaceful land

Sapnap: I am the law.

- Tommy says he’ll get on later. Ponk and Tubbo both need his assistance. Tubbo wonders if he and Ponk can make their own court to take Sapnap to trial

Ponk: “Right, look. We have to do a reverse of the revolution in America, right? We need to -- the English must take over the server again, okay? And make it British.”

- Sapnap whispers to Tubbo that Tubbo must be on his side. Tubbo, Ponk and Alyssa find Sapnap’s house. Sapnap kicks them out

- Alyssa asks where her horse went. Sapnap tells her Ponk led it to its death. Sapnap has Ponk’s pickaxe and tells him to say sorry to stop the fighting. Ponk says sorry

- Alyssa sets Sapnap’s house on fire

Tubbo: “Oh my god, is nothing sacred on this server?!”

- Sapnap tells her to say goodbye to her house and he kills Ponk. Tubbo frantically tries to put out Sapnap’s house

Sapnap: an eye for an eye

Sapnap: I am a fair man

- The only way Sapnap won’t destroy Alyssa’s house is if Tubbo builds him a new one. Tubbo tells them off for burning each other’s things. He doesn’t want his own house burnt down

Tubbo: “If I’m on everyone’s good side, then hopefully they won’t break my crap.”

- He rebuilds Sapnap’s house

- Sapnap says he only killed in self-defense after he was attacked. Alyssa drowns. Punz logs on, confused at what’s going on. He decides to pick “the side of justice”

- Sapnap pays Tubbo for fixing his house, thankful. Tubbo leaves and finds Alyssa at his house. Tubbo tells them the house is his

- Ponk and Sapnap come to Tubbo’s house and Sapnap murders Benson. Alyssa gives Tubbo a poppy for his loss. Sapnap and Tubbo declare every chicken Benson. Then Sapnap kills another as Punz comes over

- Sapnap logs off and Ponk eggs the top of Tubbo’s house

Ponk: “That’s for picking sides, Tubbo.”

Tubbo: “I didn’t pick sides!”

Ponk: “For not picking a side at all. Exactly.”

- Punz joins the call and Tubbo says they can be the side of justice together. A fight breaks out between Punz and Ponk. Tubbo and Alyssa join in and Sapnap logs back on

Sapnap: ARE YOU THREATENING MY PUNZ

- Sapnap kills Ponk again. Purpled now has a pet dog with a purple collar named “DogChamp”

- Tubbo plays the ukelele. Sapnap asks him to sing a song, and Tubbo sings “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” while Sapnap dances along

- Fundy logs on and Sapnap leaves. Things are calm again

- Tommy logs on to find that his house has been damaged and is enraged. Punz whispers to him that he saved it from fire. Tommy’s chestplate is gone and he demands to know who did it

- Sapnap logs on and whispers to Tommy that he is only borrowing the Netherite, and “do not fear my friend.” He joins the call and says that he will return Tommy’s things under one condition: Tommy must join his cause

- Tommy walks down the path looking for Sapnap and kills Alyssa along the way. Sapnap speaks with Tommy at the Courthouse

Sapnap: "The civil war is about to break out.”

- Tommy orders Sapnap to give him back the chestplate, as Wilbur helped him with it. Sapnap gives him the chestplate

Sapnap: “Look...We can be the most powerful on the realm, alright? I need you to be on my side, have my back no matter what.”

- Sapnap tells Tommy that his house was vandalized, so he vandalized the vandal’s house back

Tommy: “Who was it?”

Sapnap: “Your arch-nemesis.”

Tommy: “Ponk!”

Sapnap: “Your arch-nemesis, yes.”

- Sapnap explains what happened today, and how his house was burned down. When Tommy learns about Alyssa’s involvement, he decides it’s time for revenge and starts making his way back down the path

- As they walk to Tommy’s place, Sapnap tells Tommy about how he burned down the Lemon Tree

Tommy: “Sapnap, why would you do that?! That’s his prized possession. That’s like if you burnt my music discs!”

- Tommy asks Sapnap why he burnt down Tommy’s house and Sapnap says to just look past that. War is being waged, and he wants Tommy as his ally.

- Meanwhile, Punz tells Tubbo that there is danger approaching, and that Ponk and Tommy are about to duel. They call Ponk, but Ponk hasn’t heard about a duel

- Tommy sees Punz and Tubbo approach the front door and goes to speak with them. Tommy tells them he’s trying to work out who’s the good guy. Alyssa tells Tommy she heard Tommy stole one of her diamonds, and Tommy immediately goes back to Sapnap’s call

- Tubbo leaves them to go back to building his house, feeling like he’s been the good guy today, rebuilding everything. Everyone else is just burning down houses

- Tommy and Sapnap kick Punz out of the house. Sapnap hands Tommy a Swiftness potion, telling him to “run like the wind.” Tommy is confused

- Sapnap goes outside and sits on the bench

Sapnap: “I’m looking at the starlight, Tommy. Beside this bench...This once was a peaceful nation, Tommy.”

...

Sapnap: “Tommy, you’re free to do whatever you want. I will not attack you unless you join their side. If you join their side, then I’ll be forced to fight you in battle. But I think you know what you need to do. I think you know what team you need to choose, and I think you’ll choose wisely. But Tommy...I’m off into the night. Goodbye for now.”

- Sapnap leaps from the bench and runs off mysteriously into the wilderness

- Tommy is more confused now. He still has the Able Sisters Theme playing in the background. But he has a decision to make, and he weighs his options:

Either join Sapnap, whom he despises, join the woman, or join Punz. Yesterday, Tubbo set him on fire and he lost all his things, so he doesn’t want to join Tubbo. Fundy is a furry and Purpled plays Bedwars. Wilbur is busy streaming, but he did get whitelisted and could join the server if he wanted to

- Tommy calls Tubbo asking about his old username. Ponk and Alyssa come walking down the path to his house and Alyssa sets him on fire before they walk away. Infuriated, Tommy goes and tells Sapnap he’s chosen Sapnap’s side and that they need to show Alyssa who’s boss

Tommy: “I’ve chosen so wisely. Maybe not, but still. As long as no one touches my music discs, we’re in the clear.”

- Tommy walks outside and comes face to face with Ponk and Alyssa. They attack, and Tommy runs before getting killed by Alyssa. Sapnap goes to avenge him while Tommy demands his things back. Ponk says he chose the wrong side, and Sapnap kills Alyssa

- Ponk gives Tommy back the Netherite chestplate. Tommy meets back up with Sapnap and gets his items back. Ponk towers up and Tommy shoots at him with a crossbow and misses

Tommy: “I had one shot. Oh actually no, I have multiple shots. I am like Alexander Hamilton!”

- Dream logs on. Ponk and Alyssa both call for his help as Tommy keeps shooting. Ponk falls and dies

- Sapnap congratulates Tommy on his kill. Tommy is eager to kill more people while they’re at it, and Sapnap suggests they kill Dream. Tommy agrees

- Dream is on the path by Tommy’s house in iron armor. Tommy and Sapnap easily kill him

Sapnap: THIS IS OUR LAND

Sapnap: NOONE CAN TAKE US

Sapnap: WE OWN THIS REALM

Tubbo: can I have some?

Sapnap: YOU SHALL PAY US DIAMONDS

- Tommy is disappointed that he didn’t get the killing blow and goes to kill Dream again. Dream is waiting there on the path and he asks for his items back. Tommy starts chasing him down

- Tommy thanks Wilbur for raiding him with 5,000 viewers!

- They chase after Dream. Tommy kills Alyssa and says that if Wilbur ever joins, he and Sapnap can take him under their wing and teach him PvP. They also decide to take Tubbo in as well as the builder of their new kingdom

- Ponk, Punz and Dream come running down the path. Sapnap kills Dream and Ponk. Punz attacks Tubbo and Tubbo is angry. Tommy kills Punz. The one remaining is Alyssa

- Tommy adds Tubbo to the VC. He decides to join them. Tommy spots and chases Dream down again until Dream logs out outside Tubbo’s house

Tommy: “Sapnap, it looks as though we’ve won.”

Tubbo: “I don’t think anyone’s won. You’ve burnt down most of the stuff on the server!”

Tommy: “Other -- don’t phrase it like that. Sapnap -- you know what? Hey, Tubbo, maybe you should --” (he kicks Tubbo from the call)

- Tubbo is not on their side. Dream logs back in and Tommy kills him

Dream: you have made an enemy

- Tommy declares himself now the killer of Technoblade, Timedeo and Dream. They join the general VC and start talking with Punz, Ponk and Alyssa when another message appears in chat:

Dream: I have the music discs

Dream: and I’m going to burn them

Dream: unless my stuff is returned

- Tommy freaks out and runs back to his house. Alyssa and Ponk ask for their stuff back. The discs are gone from the chest, and Punz kills Tommy. Dream arrives at Tommy’s house, now in iron armor, and kills Tommy too. Then Sapnap kills Dream. And Ponk

- Tommy asks Dream where the discs are. He speaks with Sapnap and they go to find Punz to get Tommy’s things. Tommy is angry with Sapnap for bringing him into the conflict, but they’re too far in to turn on each other

- Sapnap tells Tommy they may have to leave the main area for a while, as they’re outnumbered by their enemies. They reach the Community House, but Dream soon arrives and kills Tommy, who respawns and immediately kills Alyssa

- Tommy makes it back to the Community House. Sapnap tells him it’s time for them to blow up all the houses and burn them, but Tommy disagrees

Dream: okay

Dream: no more killing

- Sapnap immediately kills Alyssa and then gets killed by Tubbo

- They head to courthouse, Sapnap and Tommy now facing down Dream, Alyssa, Tubbo and Ponk. Sapnap whispers plans to Tommy about how to kill them. Sapnap shouts at Tommy to run, but it doesn’t work and both die

- Tommy and Dream shout at each other angrily in a call. Dream is furious at Sapnap and Tommy for jumping him out of nowhere while he was walking down the path. Sapnap tells him they thought he was on their enemy’s side

Dream: “You guys are acting like I’m an idiot, I was watching the stream! You guys both shouted ‘LET’S KILL DREAM! LET’S KILL DREAM!’ and you guys ran at me!”

Tommy: “Tommyinnit is not an idiot, I’m the furthest thing from an idiot, I’m--”

Sapnap: “Dream, you don’t understand the TYRANNY that’s going down on these lands! And you are not helping the tyranny!”

- Tommy tells Dream they should trade, offering to work for him. Dream requests an apology instead. Tommy turns around and walks away back to the Community House

- Sapnap threatens to burn it to the ground, but Dream in turn threatens to ban him for a week. Tommy tells Sapnap to calm down

Tommy: “Sapnap, you’re clearly in the wrong!”

Sapnap: “Let me explain this whole story -- I’m not in the wrong. We’re not in the wrong, Tommy. We’re not in the wrong.”

- Dream kills Sapnap and tells them his view of the story, which is that the two chased and killed him when he had no armor. Tommy starts talking. Surrounded by everyone staring at him, he feels like this is similar to another SMP he was on...

Tommy: “Hello Te -- Dream.”

- Tommy explains that Sapnap was in a conflict with someone else before, and tells Dream that he doesn’t think Sapnap is entirely right. Dream says he’ll give back Tommy’s things, but burn the discs for the crime. While Dream is distracted by Tommy, Sapnap runs away behind them

God joined the game.

Tubbo: em

God: Give me the discs.

- Tommy tells Dream he can put Dream’s name in his YouTube title instead

Dream: “All I know is you have committed a crime, and now -- even though I was not gonna choose a side, I was forced to choose the side of these people.”

- Sapnap dies to a Piglin in the Nether and Punz gets annoyed at Dream for calling him ‘these people,’ so Dream goes on to say that Punz saved him. They start arguing over who attacked who and Punz kills Sapnap

- Sapnap calls them vermin and says he’ll see Dream in MCC...They are on the same team. Sapnap and Tommy start bickering with each other

- Tommy starts leading the group back to his house. Dream kills Tommy for calling him “Techno”

- They continue arguing at the bench for a while and start negotiating a deal. Sapnap apologizes to Dream and Dream accepts it, and he gives Sapnap back his things. Tommy gets his chestplate and sword back. Tommy asks for his discs back but Dream refuses

- Dream says Tommy is not trustworthy enough to give the discs yet, but Tommy says he is often known as “Tommy Trusty.” Dream says he will give the discs back when Tommy has earned his trust

- In Tommy’s house, Dream puts an item frame with an enchanted book to remember the day. They leave Tommy with Tubbo and Tommy fills Tubbo in on what happened

- Dream says in that that he’s going to burn the discs when Tommy doesn’t tell the truth, so Tommy starts running back

-Tommy gets chased by three baby zombies. He leads his new army down the path. He tries to get them to attack Tubbo and, while Dream is shooting at the zombies, he kills Tommy

- Dream faces Sapnap at Tubbo’s house. Dream drops a piece of ham labelled “Maxx” and then Mellohi and Sapnap picks Mellohi up, running off

- While Tommy is walking back, Sapnap suddenly shouts that he has a disc and drops it to Tommy, who runs while Sapnap holds Dream off. Tommy reaches his house and goes down into the mines

- Tommy reaches a ravine and hides the disc with his screen blacked out. He turns it back on looking at a pile of granite just as Dream reaches him

- Tubbo picks up the piece of ham labelled “Maxx” and is confused

- Tommy meets up with Sapnap in the ravine while Dream searches for the disc. Dream kills both of them. Tommy comes back down to see Dream digging through the granite

- They keep the fight up for a while until Tommy sees Dream holding a disc in his hand in front of a fire. He tells Tommy to apologize

Tommy: I am sorry if you felt upset by my masculinity

- Dream drops down the disc in front of him and Tommy picks it up and runs until Dream kills him and Sapnap

- The two continue to watch as Dream mines around with thunder booming in the background

- Eventually, they speak with Dream, who is determined to find it. Tommy offers to tell him if Dream gives him the jukebox and the other disc. He whispers to Tubbo that he needs help, to come to the house and bring shields and axes

- Tommy calls Tubbo and Sapnap. With shields and axes and all of them attacking together, they might be able to take Dream. With the three of them no armed, the battle breaks out in the ravine

Tommy: “Why is there so much lightning?”

Tubbo: “It’s pathetic fallacy.”

- All three of them die, but Tommy grabs a bed as he goes back down and they set their spawns at the bottom before retrieving the axes. As they fight, Tommy asks Purpled if he wants to help them

Purpled: (whispering to Tommy) i am switzerland

- They notice gravel at the top of a chamber and break it to make it fall into a blockade with Dream at the top of it. They start getting hits on him and though Tommy dies, Tubbo gets the final hit, killing Dream

- In celebration, Tommy places down the jukebox in the ravine and the three of them listen to Cat together

- Sapnap says they should get out of there before Dream returns

Tubbo: “I feel like we’ve killed God. God is dead.”

Tommy: “God is dead!”

Tubbo: “And we killed him.”

- Tommy explains how he created the decoy with the granite for the real disc location

- They head back up but Sapnap says Dream is up there, but Tubbo kills him again. Once at the top, Tommy hides the discs again

- While going down to the ravine, Tommy gets shot from Sapnap from above, who says he’s been hired by Dream. Tommy asks him what he’s talking about until Dream comes to Tommy’s house and kills Sapnap and Tommy

- Sapnap says he was just joking. Tommy tells Tubbo to kill Sapnap and Tubbo does. Tommy and Tubbo start running to the roof of Tubbo’s house. Sapnap is angry

- Tommy Ender Pearls out of the attic, leaving Tubbo to be killed by Dream. Tommy runs into the Nether Portal only to discover it was portal-trapped by Tubbo. Sapnap kills Tommy in the trap

- They call Sapnap and he and Tommy argue some more

Sapnap: “I’ve been battling with you all day. You think I’d betray you?”

Tommy: “Uh, yes.”

- Tommy kills Sapnap

Tubbo: “Dude...why you gotta kill people? Why can’t you just be normal? Why? Why are you like this?”

- Tommy jumps at Tubbo, who immediately kills him. Sapnap asks what their next move is. Tommy says that they got this discs which is what they needed, since the discs are the only things that were irreplacable

- Tubbo says the discs are very replaceable and he was going to make a disc farm...

Tommy: “...AND YOU TOLD ME THIS NOW?!”

- They could’ve avoided a whole lot if Tubbo had said this earlier. As Tommy walks back to the Community House, Ponk comes over and hands Tommy the Sjiba sword

- He, Tubbo and Sapnap meet up in the Nether. Tommy says he won and got an extra music disc

Tubbo: “But I already explained to you how easy they are to get.”

Tommy: “Yeah yeah yeah but have you heard of sentimental value, dickhead?”

Tubbo: “You’re talking about a Minecraft item here. Get out.”

- Sapnap hits Tommy off the hub into the lava and he loses the Sjiba sword, which was George’s. Tubbo says they can always make another

Tommy: “You are a remorseless psychopath, alright? This is not -- You need to understand sentimental value.”

Tubbo: “I do understand sentimental value! And I think it’s a little bit shit.”

Tommy: “Hence my point.”

Tubbo: “Oh.”

- Tommy sees today as a win. Tubbo calls Sapnap “Snapmap”

Sapnap: “Tubbo, I don’t wanna have to kill you.”

Tubbo: “Try me bitch.”

- While he walks back, Tommy runs into Dream, who gives him the Netherite sword and a Netherite chestplate. Dream says he’ll look for the discs and then burn them

Tubbo suggests they make an Ender Chest for the discs:

A mission for the next day.

---

UPCOMING ANNIVERSARY DATES:

July 11: Disc War Finale

July 12: The war over Spins the bee, Wilbur joins the server

July 16: Schlatt joins the server and is banned

July 17: Skeppy joins the server

July 19: Eret joins the server

July 24: Tommy and Wilbur start a drug business

#dream smp #dream smp recaps #dream smp anniversary recaps #long posts #long post

285 notes · View notes

jikookiekosmos · 3 years

Text

Classified & Confidential || kth (Part 1)

➥Pairing: detective!taehyung/reader

➥Summary: It’s been years since your close friend passed away, case going cold due to lack of evidence. You never once believed the story the police gave you, since they classified it under an ‘unfortunate accident.’ Now that there are telltale signs of something similar at play regarding someone else you hold dear, you decide to take things into your own hands. You hire world renowned private detective, Kim Taehyung. And he goes above and beyond everything you expected.

➥Genre: strangers to lovers (kinda slow burn), detective au, mystery, angst, eventual smut, fluff

➥Rating: 18+

➥Words: ~7.1k

➥Content Warnings: detective/mystery au, (tw: mentions of death, brief mention of suicide in relation to a criminal case, implied foul play, stalking behavior, non-graphic detailing of a crime scene), slight forensic talk, mentions of nervousness and anxiety, some cursing, mentions of cops/police, unhelpful law enforcement (like they’re kinda terrible with the whole solving this case thing), feelings of unease and tension, we get bestie hoseok, tae is kinda extra but for good reason, no suggestiveness/smut in this chapter but it’s still 18+ due to it involving some of the aforementioned warnings

A/N: This will be a multi-part series that explores some darker themes, and each part will have appropriate content warnings listed; please read at your own risk. This part touches on backstory and introduces the characters, things will start getting a little more intense in the following chapters. I don’t have any kind of specific update schedule but ideally I’d like to get updates out every few weeks at the latest! I hope you look forward to this, and if you wanna be added to a taglist, please let me know~

Thank you @dntaewithluv for your constant motivation and support (and for always beta-reading for me, even when we scream at each other about our ideas); hopefully I do Tae justice for you! I love you lots ❤️

taglist: @inlovewiththemoonn @mwitsmejk @bangtanhome

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

5 Years Ago

The night sky was dark, blanketed by stars as it emitted a peaceful aura. There was no way to bask in the calmness of the night, however, with all the hustle and bustle that surrounded you outside of the apartment complex.

Crime scene tape marked off the area, and many onlookers had gathered to try and get a glimpse of what happened. You were one yourself, but you weren’t there out of sheer curiosity.

Your breathing was ragged, staggered, as you tried to hold yourself together and observed the scene in front of you unfold.

Police wouldn’t let you beyond the tape, despite knowing the person currently covered by the white tarp.

Minutes prior, one of the cops had been politely trying to hold you back as you thrashed around, mind muddled by the vision of your best friend’s face before the tarp concealed it.

“I’m sorry, we can’t let anyone unauthorized come past this tape, please stay where you are.”

“You don’t understand, that’s my best friend, please let me through, please-”

You couldn’t control the volume of your screams, prompting a few of the other bystanders to try and calm you down seeing as you were very clearly distraught.

An unknown amount of time passed before the thickest part of the crowd decided they’d had enough excitement for one night, retiring to their own homes. You stayed planted in your spot, prepared to not move until you got more of an explanation for what was going on.

You’d resigned yourself to the fact that if someone wanted you to leave, they’d have to do it by force, but you eventually complied after two cops convinced you to come down to the station and issue a statement, given your relation to the victim.

They didn’t grill you hard, which was something you appreciated at the time, since you were really in no state to handle a grueling interrogation. You knew you could be marked down as a potential suspect, but everything from their investigation pointed to them believing it had either been an accident or a possible suicide attempt, the latter of which would almost entirely exclude your involvement.

Over the next few weeks, you cooperated with the investigation and helped them with whatever leads you could provide; you were determined that foul play was involved, because you knew your best friend better than anyone, and the story the cops were feeding you wasn’t adding up.

The theory as you knew it was this: she jumped from her apartment window, which was up a significant amount of stories, more than enough to kill a person. A potential suicide note was found at the scene on the nightstand by her bed, typed on a sheet of paper, so handwriting analysis wasn’t an option. The apartment was undisturbed aside from the window having been open.

It almost seemed like a cut-and-dried case, aside from one other small factor: unknown DNA from a hair follicle was found in the apartment alongside the victim’s own.

This didn’t surprise you…at first. You knew Ky had been perusing multiple dating apps and would often invite people over to her place after successful dates. But as far as you also knew, Ky hadn’t recently been on any dates, so there wasn’t a clear reason for that DNA to show up.

Ky had told you in the weeks leading up to her death that she was afraid someone had been following her around, and it unsettled her so much so that she deleted all the dating apps on her phone until she felt safe again.

Sadly, that day never came, and this fact alone caused the nagging suspicion of foul play to burrow itself even deeper into your subconscious.

Since the DNA was unknown, tracing it would be no easy task, but that didn’t stop you. Anything you could do to shed light on what had actually occurred, you were going to do it, plain and simple.

Which is why when the police decided to close the file on the case and label it as an ‘unfortunate accident,’ you were floored.

You begged them to keep focusing on leads when there really weren’t any, offering to aid in any way you could because there was no way that there wasn’t something missing.

Their response?

“Go home, Y/N, there’s nothing else you can do.”

You left the station that day only after you had caused somewhat of a scene, arguing back and forth with one of the lead detectives until you were ‘carefully escorted’ outside. Enraged, you banged your hand against the glass of the door before you slid down the wall beside it, hugging your knees as you tried to compose yourself.

You weren’t sitting that way for long before you felt a gentle tug on your sleeve. You looked up reluctantly and were met with one of the softest pairs of eyes you’d ever seen.

The stranger offered you a kind smile, one that made your heart ache in the aftermath of everything you’d endured the last several weeks. You’d been tackling this situation all on your own, with barely any help from mutual friends or Ky’s family since she’d been estranged from them.

But now, this man stooped down in front of you and smiling at you like everything would be alright…

It almost made you want to believe it.

“Hi, I uh, couldn’t help but overhear about your situation,” he finally spoke up, sounding somewhat bashful. He had bright red hair that peeked out under a cap he wore, and he was sporting a rainbow colored sweater.

A tinge of embarrassment fluttered through you. “Oh. Sorry you had to witness that.”

So this random stranger heard you telling off the police by yelling at them in broad daylight. Way to make a first impression.

To your surprise, he simply shook his head, smile widening. “No, don’t be sorry! I was, uh – happy to be able to listen.”

You quirked an eyebrow. “Ok…may I ask why?”

“Well,” there was that bashful tone again, hand flying to the back of his neck as he looked to the side, “I’d been coming up here for a while, hoping to hear something regarding this case specifically. Usually when I stop by, there isn’t much going on and it’s not like I can just walk in and ask for classified information-”

He stopped speaking immediately once you held up your hand. You didn’t want to be rude, but you were thoroughly confused.

“Is there a reason why you’re eavesdropping for information about this case?”

He nodded eagerly. “Sure is! See, I’m working as a crime reporter, and-”

You scoffed as you pushed yourself to a standing position. “Unbelievable.”

Without sparing another glance to the gentleman, you shouldered past him, earlier hopeful mood soured by the fact that he was just another person looking for a scoop about Ky’s demise.

He was quick to follow, almost jumping down the steps to catch up to you.

“Hey, wait! Please.”

The way he begged pulled at your heartstrings because of how genuine he sounded, and for reasons beyond you, you turned around to face him and decided to hear him out.

You crossed your arms as he sighed with relief.

“Thank you. Ok, to start with, I’m a crime reporter, but I’m not trying to report on this case as everyone knows it.”

Another eyebrow raise from you. “What do you mean?”

The man smiled shyly, brushing away the red hair in his eyes. “I want to bring the injustice of the system to the public’s attention.”

That got your attention. “You do?”

“Yes. And I think your story could help with that.”

“My story?”

He nodded again, this time more eager than the last. “You’re pretty adamant that what happened to your friend was no accident, am I correct?”

Any mention of Ky caused the dull pain in your chest to come back, but at least this time, she wasn’t being mentioned in a gruesome or negative light.

“Yeah, I really don’t think it was an accident. But no one believes me.” You looked down at your shoes, scuffling one against the pavement.

You only looked up again when you felt the stranger’s hand on your shoulder.

“I believe you.”

All of the breath was knocked out of you.

“You…you believe me?”

The smile he gave you this time was bright and sincere as he dropped his hand by his side. “I do. I’ve been following everything posted online or in the newspaper about this case, and some of it just really does not seem plausible. And then after hearing you today, it made so much sense as to why.”

It still bothered you a bit that you were loud enough in the station to be heard outside, but that worry was now being overshadowed by the possibility of having someone else who could stand by you on your conviction.

“It…really means a lot to me that you would even consider my side of things. Truthfully, I think the police only tolerated me this long due to protocol.” You wrapped your arms around yourself.

The red-haired man grimaced at your remark. “Yeah, no kidding. For as long as I’ve been in this line of work, I don’t think I’ve ever seen them take things as seriously as they should.”

“How long have you been doing this?”

“About a year. But trust me, I’ve seen a lot during that time.” His determined expression might have made you giggle under other circumstances because it clashed so much with the rest of his soft demeanor.

“I don’t doubt it.” You walked over to the nearby bench seated a few feet away and the stranger followed hesitantly, only sitting beside you when you didn’t give him any indication his presence was unwanted.

The both of you turned toward each other slightly before you spoke up again.

“So, how can I help you with what you’re wanting to do?”

He seemed pleased that you were on board, eyes shining. “For starters, do you think I could interview you? I’d have to ask some sensitive questions, but I feel like I could have a better understanding of the case that way…only if you’re comfortable, though.”

You swallowed as you thought it over. Your participation in the numerous interrogations during the investigation had now proved to lead nowhere, but maybe this time the outcome would be different.

“Sure, I don’t mind. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know, to the best of my ability.”

The stranger beamed, looking happy enough to nearly jump out of the bench, despite the current subject matter. “Great!”

His cheerful nature was a little infectious, you had to admit, because you already started to feel a little lighter in his presence. A hand appeared in your line of vision.

“My name is Hoseok, by the way. We haven’t been properly introduced yet so that would be the next best step, I think.”

You did giggle this time at his action. “Nice to meet you, Hoseok. I’m Y/N.” You took his hand into your own to give it a small but firm shake.

“It’s my pleasure, Y/N. Now,” he regarded you with that same soft look he had in his eyes when you first saw him at the station, “what do you say we discuss some logistics over lunch? My treat, of course, since you’re agreeing to help me.”

For the first time in ages, the smile that graced your face was wholeheartedly genuine. “Sounds good.”

Thus, the beginning of a beautiful, long-lasting friendship bloomed that day outside of the one place you’d begun to loathe more than anything else. Over the next few years, Hoseok stood by your side in more ways than you could count, and he was now someone you considered to be one of the best friends you’d ever had.

One of the only best friends you’d ever had.

What you never expected was to be seated with Hoseok at the same diner that started your initial conversation about Ky’s case 5 years later, discussing something much too similar for your liking.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

Present Day

You sipped from your coffee mug, enjoying the warm beverage as you waited at the diner. The weather had been less than ideal, with rain pouring all day long and displaying little signs of stopping.

But Hoseok had been adamant about the two of you meeting up after your voicemail you left the previous night.

As you were thinking about your close friend, you heard the bell above the diner door ring, signaling his arrival. He spotted you across the room and quickly rushed over to your table, leaving rain droplets in his wake.

Hoseok shrugged out of his soaked jacket and tossed in into the booth seat beside him as he shook his head to – hopefully – rid himself of the water trying to slide down his face.

“Hey,” he finally breathed out once he was settled. His usual wild red hair was darker now thanks to the rain, stern expression plastered onto his face.

“Hey.” You responded meekly, attempting to give him a weak smile. Your stomach was churning with unease at the conversation you were about to have.

Hoseok took a deep breath before he folded his hands together and rested his elbows on the table. The coffee you’d ordered for him had been pushed to the side, momentarily forgotten.

He lowered his voice. “Are you sure the pattern of behavior is the same?”

You nodded slowly, going over all the details again in your mind. “I’m positive. The only difference is Yuri waited longer to tell me that she thinks she’s being followed than Ky did.”

Ky. Not a day went by where you didn’t think about her, seeing her smiling face when you would close your eyes at night and try to drift off to sleep.

Slumber came much easier these days than it did those first few months, but every now and then the same nightmare would plague you about the night you saw her on the sidewalk.

You shook your head to shrug the thoughts away. Now wasn’t the time.

“Shit,” Hoseok finally responded. “That doesn’t seem like good news for us.”

“My thoughts exactly. Who knows how long this has been going on. And she’s been receiving the same kind of ‘gifts’ Ky would get, too. Random text messages, voicemails from unknown numbers…she tries to brush it off, but I know this scares Yuri.”

“She doesn’t recognize who’s speaking in the voicemails?”

You shook your head solemnly. “No, they’re using some sort of voice modifier.”

Hoseok cursed again, this time under his breath. “Well, what do you want to do?”

You gulped. Truthfully, you didn’t know the answer yourself. On the one hand, everything currently happening to your friend mimicked what happened to Ky, almost exactly. But on the other hand, Yuri made it known time and time again that she thought you were too paranoid for your own good sometimes.

So, you were at a loss.

Yuri and you were close, in a sense. You’d been friends for the last 4 years, working at the same company after graduating from college and even getting transferred to a new one in the same division so as to not be separated. Outside of Hoseok, you considered her your dearest friend.

But at the same time, you knew that Yuri had those she held very dear in her own life that were there before you, and you’d never try to overstep.

Still…the events surrounding Yuri were too specific to be coincidental in your opinion, and if the hunch you had right now was correct, you needed to do something.

You wouldn’t – you couldn’t – let another person die. Not if there was some way for you to prevent it.

Something you didn’t do with Ky, and that would haunt you for the rest of your life-

Hoseok pulled you out of your thoughts by calling your name, frowning deeply once your gaze focused on him again.

“I…I don’t know. I feel like if I push too hard on this, I’ll also push Yuri away, and I don’t want that.” You worried at your bottom lip, your most infamous nervous habit.

“Be that as it may, this doesn’t seem like something you should ignore either. What’s worse: pushing her away but potentially saving her life, or not saying anything and she ends up in danger?”

A heavy sigh wracked through your body.

Your silence was enough for Hoseok to continue with his own line of thinking. “Well, we could consider going to the police-”

“Absolutely not,” you answered fiercely, with more emotion than you’d displayed the entire conversation, “not after how they handled everything with Ky and how they treated you.”

You and Hoseok had made a name for yourself throughout the town as ‘Public Enemies 1 and 2’ with the local police department. You, due to your persistent insistence that they were wrong in their deduction about Ky, and Hoseok because of the article he published that shamed their name.

The article was the first – and last – one that he published under the company that had hired him to be a reporter, seeing as the police department had enough sway to get him fired afterwards. He wasn’t able to find another reporting job anywhere within the town or those surrounding it.

There also weren’t any remaining records of the article anywhere online or in paper publication, but as a ‘fuck you’ to the department, Hoseok had a copy of it printed and hanging up on his wall for anyone and everyone to see. You had always admired how he handled the situation with grace even though it made your blood boil every time you thought about it.

Even so, some good had come from the whole ordeal. After failing to find another reporter job, Hoseok had made a somewhat notable career as a crime novel author, popular among locals because of how he came to be a novelist, and eventually rising to fame due to his own amazing writing skills.

He enjoyed his career and had a happy life, but that didn’t mean you had to forgive and forget the shitty events that happened to get him to that point.

Hoseok nodded in understanding. “Ok, so no police. Does that mean we try to tackle this whole thing by ourselves?”

“Neither of us have any legit experience with this kind of stuff, so that’s out of the question, too.”

Hoseok tapped his chin as he pondered another idea. The way his eyes lit up as it came to him made your lips curve upward.

“What if we go to someone who isn’t involved with the police but does have experience with that?”

“…not sure I’m following you.”

Hoseok huffed in an endearing way. “Have you ever heard of a private detective?”

The word ‘detective’ made you wince, considering your last encounter with one evolved into a screaming match…but it was also how you met Hoseok, so there’s a silver lining for everything.

“I’m not familiar with a private detective, but I’m open to listening to your idea.”

He grinned. “Perfect. Ok, so in my research for my latest novel, I actually ended up looking into some real-life private detectives.”

“And what did you find?” Your own curiosity was definitely piqued now, as it always was when Hoseok would talk about something so passionately.

“There’s one who’s basically world renowned, like he’s really fucking good. And his office isn’t too far from here, it’s basically in the next town over.”

You took another sip from your coffee, swirling the now lukewarm liquid around in your mouth as you contemplated.

“What else do you know about him?”

Hoseok’s shoulders slumped slightly at that. “Not much. The only information I have on him is his name and how you can contact him. From what I’ve read, he seems to be pretty selective with clients.”

“No idea what he looks like?”

Hoseok shook his head. “None. There weren’t pictures or anything like that, I’m not even sure how old he is.”

You hummed as you pictured this mystery man in your head, automatically defaulting to envisioning an older man, maybe in his 50s with already graying hair. A wise old soul who had seen so much in his long years of investigation work.

“Not like all that really matters, I guess. Do you think I should reach out to him?”

Hoseok nodded around his coffee cup before he tilted his head back to take a large sip. “That’s our best shot right now. And if it doesn’t work out, at least you tried.”

Such a simple statement but it made your stomach twist at the memory of Ky and how you weren’t able to save her because you didn’t know how. “Right.”

Hoseok pulled his phone out of his pocket and scrolled through what looked like Google search results. When he found what he was looking for, he texted you the information.

“Kim Taehyung?” You said the name aloud, making sure you got the correct info.

“Yup, that’s him. If you do decide to contact him, let me know how it goes, ok? I’m already worried as is about you delving into something like this again.”

You patted his hand. “I know, Hobi. Don’t worry. I’ll be careful, and I’ll keep you updated as much as possible.”

He smiled brighter than the sunshine. “That’s all I can ask for, bub.”

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You paced around your apartment, staring at the text that Hoseok had sent you earlier. The rest of your time with him at the diner had been calm and helped to quell your nerves, but now that you were alone again, you were riddled with anxiety.

You had typed in this Kim Taehyung’s number into your phone, ready to call him and just get it over with. The worst he could do is decline your ask for help, but you wouldn’t know unless you tried.

After a few more minutes of useless pacing, you finally hit ‘send’ and raised the receiver to your ear.

You were met with an answering machine almost immediately, wondering if maybe you typed it in wrong until you heard ‘you have reached the number for Kim Taehyung.’ The name had been uttered by a human voice, one that was deep and took you off guard.

You had barely enough time to ponder over the voice before you heard the tell-tale ‘beep’ signaling for you to start your message.

“Oh! Um, hello, Mr. Kim. This is Y/N- well my name is Y/N. I was referred to you by a friend of mine who said you may can help me with a situation I’m having. There’s…some suspicious behavior involving someone dear to me and I’m afraid they could be in danger, but I’m not sure who to turn to. I-If you’d like to give me a call back, you can reach me at this number…”

You finished your voicemail with your contact information before thanking him and wishing him a goodnight. Once you pulled away your phone, you checked the time.

10:36 PM. No wonder you got his answering machine.

The anxiety that had settled down while you were leaving your message started to come back, so to combat that you made the decision to go ahead and get ready for bed. There wasn’t anything else you could do right now, anyway.

You texted Yuri just to wish her a goodnight, and when you received a response almost immediately, you breathed out a sigh of relief. At least she was alright and that was one less thing to worry about for now.

You didn’t dream that night – which was a blessing in its own right – as you thought about the deep timbre of the voice from the answering machine. You’d only heard it briefly, but it left enough of an impact, that was for sure.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

You awoke around 8 AM, your typical time no matter what day it was. It was the weekend, so you could get more sleep if you wanted, but a quick check of your phone had you sitting upright at a record speed.

[Unknown] 6:28 AM: I got your voicemail. If you want to discuss your case, meet me at this address.

Your heart thumped faster as you re-read the words over again. The following message had an address attached, and when you opened it, you noticed how it was for the neighboring town.

With all of the context clues, and taking into account everything Hoseok told you yesterday, you figured that it was Mr. Kim who had texted you. Obviously it would be from an unknown number, and he wouldn’t give out any explicit personal details to lead back to him; that’s just how he did things, as Hobi had mentioned.

And if he contacted you back, that meant he was interested in helping you!

Well…he was interested in hearing you out, at least. Still, you wouldn’t pass up on this opportunity. You quickly crafted a response before you started to make yourself presentable.

[y/n] 8:03 AM: Thank you! When should I meet you?

You had just finished brushing your teeth when you heard your phone chime again.

[Unknown] 8:06 AM: Whenever is best for you. I’ll be here all day and don’t have any other clients lined up.

You clutched your phone to your chest. This was really happening.

Once you were done getting ready to head out, it was just past 9 AM. You called Hobi to let him know what you were doing, and his excitement was tangible even through the phone. He urged you to keep him posted about all the details, which you assured him that of course you would.

The drive to the address you’d been given didn’t take too long, maybe around 20 minutes or so. What surprised you when you arrived, though, was the outward appearance of the building.

It looked abandoned, for lack of a better term, and you checked the text message 3 more times to make sure this is where you were supposed to be.

[y/n] 9:28 AM: I’m here…but I’m not sure if this is the correct place?

There was an eerie feeling settling in your stomach as you waited for a response. Maybe this had been some sort of trick? Had someone set you up?

The sound of a deadbolt clicking grabbed your attention, and the door a few feet in front of you opened up to display an older woman. At first, she seemed a bit disgruntled at having an unexpected guest, but before you could apologize for intruding, her gruff expression was replaced with a warm smile.

“I take it you’re Y/N?”

You gulped and nodded, placing your phone back into your jacket pocket.

“Follow me.”

She turned on her heel to walk back into the building, not bothering to wait and see if you would obey. You quickly scurried after her, only stopping once you were a foot or so behind.

You walked through about 3 or 4 different hallways, trying to remember the directions you’d taken but failing miserably. There wasn’t much to this building…you saw what appeared to be a few offices here and there but otherwise, not much else.

“Here we are,” the woman croaked, gesturing with her arm to a much nicer looking door that had gold lettering on the window.

The etchings were bold, and it was very evident where you were as you read the words:

KIM TAEHYUNG

Private Detective

The older woman rapped on the door 3 times with her knuckles before she walked off. You were standing there, dumbfounded, until you heard a voice softly telling you to come inside.

The doorknob clicked easily under your hand, and as you entered the room, you were in awe of how different everything looked.

The office was tidy and, dare you say, extravagant compared to what surrounded it outside of this room. There were two brown leather couches that had a decent sized coffee table seated in between them; further into the office, you saw the same type of leather chairs, one in front of and one behind a large wooden desk. You also spotted a few plants that looked to be well taken care of, one sitting in a windowsill and the other on a small table next to some black filing cabinets.

Whoever had designed this room clearly had a knack for matching furniture together, because it all meshed well and you appreciated the sleek look to everything.

Your eyes ended their scan as you looked over to the far wall, almost letting out a gasp when you noticed the figure across the room whose back was turned to you.

When you softly shut the door, the other person in the room turned around. It took you a second to start thinking properly again, because he was not at all how you pictured he would be.

For starters, he looked much younger than you thought originally, closer to your own age, which you thought was admirable considering his high status as a detective. He had brown hair parted down the middle that was slightly wavy, with bangs covering his forehead. He had very handsome facial features as well, some of the most handsome you’d ever seen, if you were being honest with yourself.

He was wearing dark jeans and a shirt with black and white print that was hidden underneath a black leather jacket. Everything about this man seemed to scream fashionable and it was throwing you for a loop. You weren’t trying to stereotype him based on your own experience with detectives in the past, but he was just…so not what you expected him to be.

You were wondering again if this might be a prank, until he finally spoke up and acknowledged your presence.

“Y/N, is it?”

You nodded dumbly, scrambling to walk across the office as he motioned to the chair in front of his desk. He sat down in his own once you were close enough, and you shrugged out of your jacket before following suit.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything, you felt small under his scrutinizing gaze. He was leaning on one elbow, chin resting in his palm as he stared at you with intensity.

He spoke suddenly, almost making you flinch with surprise.

“So, you mentioned a friend of yours might be in danger?”

You nodded, not sure what to say or if you should say anything.

“Does this friend know you’ve come to a private detective about their situation?”

You opened your mouth, closed it, and opened it again. “Well…no.”

The man nodded, more to himself than you, it looked like. “Alright. That’s not an issue, just have to cover all the basics first.”

“What do the basics entail?”

He seemed amused by your interest as you took the initiative to ask questions now.

His fingertips drummed along the desk, a rhythmic sound that you found to be oddly soothing.

“It entails me finding out as much about your case as I’m willing to before I decide whether or not it’s something I can assist you with.”

He started twirling a pen with his unoccupied fingers, clearly waiting for you to speak first again before he continued.

“What do you want to know?”

“Anything you feel is pertinent to tell me.”

You sighed. “Well, to start with, I think my friend is being followed by someone-”

“Proof?”

You frowned. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Do you have proof? Does this friend have pictures or a video of them being followed, or is it just a feeling?”

“To my knowledge…no. It’s more that they sense it than have actually seen it.”

“And you want me to find out if this is happening or not?”

“Um…yes?”

It was his turn to sigh this time. “You don’t sound very confident in your answer, Y/N.”

His tone rubbed you the wrong way. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“What it means,” he broke off to look away from the pen to your face again, “is that I need to know what it is you want from me before I can agree to help you.”

You were catching onto his game now. He wanted you to very specifically lay it all out for him, instead of leaving him to figure it out by grasping at straws.

“Well, Mr. Kim-”

“Taehyung.”

“Sorry?”

“Taehyung. You can call me that, if you want. I’m not super big on formalities for myself.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. Why was his presence so overwhelming?

“With all due respect, Mr. Kim, I’ve never done this before. All I know is something isn’t right, and I don’t trust the police to offer assistance in the way I need.”

You swore you saw something flash in his eyes.

“Why don’t you trust the police?”

You crossed your arms and leaned more into the chair. “The last time I worked with them, it didn’t end well.”

“You’ve worked on the force?” He almost sounded impressed.

“No, sorry, poor choice of wording. I tried to help them with a case before.”

“Ah,” his eyes narrowed as he busied himself with the pen again. “Were you a suspect, or?”

“I was close to the victim,” you said softly, almost a whisper.

For a moment, his expression softened. “I’m so sorry.”

You shrugged, inhaling a shaky breath as you looked at your lap. “It’s fine. Just…there’s your answer. I don’t want to work with them again, so I came to you.”

“If I’m able to take your case, I’ll make sure you don’t regret that decision.”

His tone had you picking your eyes back up. You noticed a fire within his own, one that made you feel like he meant every single word he’d just said to you.

“Thank you.”

He carded a hand through his hair, the action drawing your attention to the silver watch that adorned his wrist.

“Can I ask…could you tell me about the case you were involved with?”

A slow nod from you. “If it’ll help, I can do that.”

He motioned for you to continue. As you started telling him the details, you noticed as his eyes widened. At one point, he politely interrupted you.

“Sorry, just – I remember that case. You were involved with that?”

“Yes.” You were twisting your hands together in your lap. “Ky was my best friend.”

“And the police just let the case go cold, without considering all traces of evidence?”

“I begged them not to, but there wasn’t much I could do. They made that known several times,” you trailed off. You thought you heard some semblance of a growl coming from the detective.

“I always knew something was weird about that…every report they published made no sense, and none of the pieces of evidence seemed to corroborate their theories.” His hushed tone suggested he may have been talking more to himself, but you didn’t question it.

“There were signs of suspicious behavior leading up to her death that they never considered, and any time I tried to bring it up, I was shut down immediately.”

“Are these ‘signs’ something you’re noticing now, with your other friend?”

“Yes, exactly.”

Taehyung hummed. “I see. You want to inspect this before it gets out of hand, so you came to me because the police are a lost cause.”

You nodded feebly, voice softer than ever when you spoke again. “I don’t want to see another person die.”

“You won’t.”

His answer startled you, even if it was as quiet as your own. Your eyes met briefly before he started looking anywhere but your face.

Another hush befell the room, and this one seemed more awkward than the last, considering Taehyung cleared his throat before he rifled through one of his desk drawers.

“Before you tell me anything else, I need you to look over something first.”

“Sure, whatever I need to do, I’ll do it.”

A crooked smile tugged at Taehyung’s lips. “You know, you’re a lot more obedient than most of my other clients.”

You…weren’t sure how to take that.

“I am?”

“Yeah. Most of the time they come in with demands and don’t like to listen when I push back on something. It’s part of the reason why I’ve gotten choosier about who I decide to do business with these last few years. But you,” he fished out a piece of paper from the drawer, “are proving much easier to work with. I appreciate that.”

“Oh. Thank you.”

He chuckled, the sound low. “You’re also way more polite than most people I encounter.”

You smiled at him for the first time. “I’m grateful you’re taking the time to hear me out.”

His eyes lingered on yours for just a second before shifting down.

“First and foremost,” Taehyung slid a piece of paper across the wooden desk that separated the two of you, “if we agree to do business, you’ll need to sign this contract. It lists my stipulations and services I can provide.”

You picked up the paper, not quite sure what to expect.

“Take your time to read over all of it carefully, just so everything is clear on both our ends.” He leaned back in his chair, the sound of squeaking leather breaking your concentration for a moment.

You scanned through every line, all of the contract terms seeming straight-forward and easy to agree to-

-but the last line caught your attention.

“Could you explain this last part, please?”

Taehyung leaned over to look at which line you were pointing to before he let out a soft chuckle. “Ah, that. My #1 most important rule. Never get involved with clients’ personal lives.”

“But don’t you have to sometimes?”

“For work, yes. But this is more referring to what happens outside of that. Things can get…messy.”

“You talk like that’s happened before.”

Taehyung smirked but offered nothing more to that specific conversation.

“So, are we in business?”

You didn’t have to ponder long before you signed the contract with a flourish. When you passed it back across the desk, Taehyung smiled.

“Perfect,” he stood up to shake your hand, “I’ll be in touch with you shortly, once I’ve reviewed your case.”

You returned the shake. “Thank you, Mr. Kim.”

He squeezed your hand once before letting it go.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

You waited to see if there was anything else he might need from you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other. He leaned down and sifted through his drawer once more, this time pulling out a Manila file folder.

“I use these to get the typical information needed for me to start my research. It just asks for client’s name and contact info, as well as a summary about what you’re wanting from me and other names of those involved. In this instance, it would be your friend. You can give me as little or as much info as you think I need.”

He handed the folder to you, and upon opening it up, you saw everything he had just mentioned to you on a sheet of paper stapled to the inside.

“I’d prefer you fill it out now so you can leave it with me, but of course I can’t force you to do anything.”

His tone suggested he was teasing, but you were quick to sit on one of the couches and begin filling out the paper. It didn’t take you very long, and when you were done, you noticed he was sitting on the opposite couch, elbows resting on his knees with his hands folded.

“Finished?”

You nodded as you slid the file across the coffee table, his pen placed on top. He accepted both and smiled at you.

“Alright, if that’s all you want to discuss, you’re free to go. As I mentioned before, I’ll be in touch with you after I’ve looked over everything and have some sort of plan on how to proceed. And of course, all of this information is strictly classified. You read that in the contract, but I always reiterate it anyway, due to some problems I’ve had in the past.”

“Of course.” You agreed with no hesitation. Honestly, you couldn’t fathom just how much he’s had to endure in his line of work, how many times he’s probably had to change locations and phone numbers.

Hell, Kim Taehyung may not even be his real name, and you’d never know.

“Any questions for me?”

You mumbled some form of ‘no’ as you shook your head. Taehyung walked over to the door to open it for you, and you certainly weren’t expecting the same woman from before to be out in the hallway, but there she was.

“Ms. Choi will show you out since this place is a bit of a maze,” his tone was light, a sheer contrast to the mood that had settled over the two of you from when you stepped into his office. “Don’t forget: I’ll contact you.”

“Yes, sir.” You couldn’t help the authoritative term as it slipped past your lips, and you walked through the door before you could see the look on his face. You thought you might have heard some sort of laugh from Ms. Choi as she escorted you back to the front, but your imagination liked to play tricks on you sometimes.

Besides, Taehyung said he wasn’t one for formalities, so it didn’t really matter that much, did it? He had to be older than you anyway…right?

You spent the entire walk through the building trying to justify in your head what had just happened, and Ms. Choi gave you a soft smile as she held the door open for you to leave.

When you settled back in your car, you gripped the steering wheel and took a deep breath, leaning your head back as you shut your eyes.

You still couldn’t quite believe that the last 30 minutes or so had happened. Taehyung had proven to be quite different than what you anticipated, but he was truthfully better than you could have hoped.

He seemed driven and motivated about his line of work, and the way he reassured you when you had your doubts-

-it made you feel…safe. Like this was a step in the right direction after all.

As you called Hobi to fill him in on everything during your drive home, you started to believe that maybe, just maybe, things would turn out alright.

⊱──────── ✬ ✬ ✬ ────────⊰

➥Part 2

➥Series Masterlist

➥All Works Masterlist

#bts #bts smut #bangtaninn #taehyung angst #taehyung x reader #taehyung au #taehyung scenarios #detective!au

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kittyprincessofcats · 3 years

Text

She-Ra S5 E09 - An Ill Wind

In which the Best Friend Squad’s back on Etheria and I’m back to writing up my thoughts about it. (The real question is whether I’ll manage to finish these posts before season 5’s one-year-anniversary.) I probably really don’t need to say this anymore, but there might be spoilers for the rest of the season in this post.

- I think it’s funny how Catra can’t stand teleporting, but what’s even more important is how visibly concerned for her Adora is each time. Have you seen how she touches Catra’s shoulders and looks at her with such a worried expression? D’awww.

- “Wow, you don’t trust the princesses? I am shocked.” No Glimmer, Catra’s 100% right. This has nothing to do with trusting the princesses; you really don’t know who’s chipped and which places are occupied by clones. Perfuma literally told you the rebellion was compromised.

- “Catra’s right.” THANK YOU, ADORA! (Also, I love Catra’s satisfied little smirk in the background when Adora says this.)

- I just paused the episode when they arrive in Erelandia and counted the Horde flags you can see hanging all over the town: 14, plus one giant Horde sign in the sky and a spire not too far away. Prime, are you compensating for something? (Also, Adora has an arm on Catra’s back again. Cute.)

- Is it a little disappointing that all the rebellions against Horde Prime on other planets got reduced to one brief exposition scene where a clone mentions they’re happening and a few quick images? Yeah. But I also get why the show just didn’t have the time for more and wanted to focus on Etheria.

- Speaking of, are those the magicats we see in the second image? Interesting… I’m not sure how I feel about the idea of Catra potentially being an alien as well. But then again, the show never clearly answers it one way or another, and there’s no reason magicats couldn’t have existed on multiple planets.

- Also, am I understanding this right: The Star Siblings started the intergalactic rebellion after meeting the Best Friend Squad? And now there are already rebels on several planets? Nice job, Star Siblings!

- “My heart aches for these misguided children.” I’m not sure if I’ve ever properly addressed the heavily religious symbolism around Horde Prime and his cult, but… that right there is *such* a Christian-extremist-coded line, holy hell…

- So Prime says he wants to use the Heart of Etheria “to bring peace to all the universe” and at this point I’m not entirely sure what his exact goal is. Does he just want to destroy all the planets with the Heart? Because I’ll be honest, I tend to find “I just want to destroy everything” a bit boring as a motivation in villains. What’s the point of him ruling the universe if there’s no one left to rule over? I mean, I know Prime had his whole “If there’s no one left, there are no wars, etc.” speech in an earlier episode, but that’s also just so dumb.

- Where did the Best Friend Squad even get those cloaks? Either way, Catra looks adorable with the outline of her ears showing under the hood. 🥺

- “I hope you, too, are full only of love for Horde Prime… and have no crippling doubt eating at your soul.” / “Brothers, there is nothing to see here!” Like I said in an earlier post, all of Wrong Hordak’s lines are absolute winners. Also, I love how the other clones just keep falling for his very obvious bluffs.

- Wrong Hordak learning to wink so quickly makes me jealous because I can’t wink. (No, I really can’t; I’ve tried. Whenever I try to only close one eye, I always end up closing both. If anyone has good advice on learning to wink, let me know.)

- I love the character designs of the mushroom people.

- Catra wasn’t wrong about the locals selling them out and not telling them anything useful. The others should listen to her more.

- Bow posing as the “average traveler passing though” is especially funny because I’m pretty sure there are no “travelers passing through” in times of Horde Prime.

Catra: “A town that hates princesses? Should I buy property here?”

Everyone else: *glares*

Catra: “Is what I would have said before I joined you. Go, team.”

😂😂😂 Catra’s quiet little “Go, team” in the end is what gets me most about this moment 😂. She’s adorable and trying her best, okay?

- I love how Wrong Hordak just calls everyone “brother” regardless of gender. Also, Adora’s little “Did you just wink at me?” / “That’s not how winking works!” moments are hilarious and adorable.

- “You’re wearing hooded cloaks, it’s highly suspicious.” Okay, mushroom lady’s not wrong, though. And I love how someone finally points this out, since hooded cloaks are so often used as “undercover” disguises in shows like this.

- That said, both she and mushroom guy earlier did try to sell the Best Friend Squad out super quickly. Like, I get that the locals are scared, but still… They could have tried to stay safe without running towards the clones to tell them everything right away.

- I’m just noticing that Erelandia has mushrooms everywhere. Obviously the people are mushrooms, but there are also mushrooms growing outside in the streets everywhere, and the shop they’re in is selling mushrooms and clothes with mushrooms on them as well.

- Both Bow and Glimmer blowing their covers almost immediately and Adora just quietly shaking her head at both of them in the background is amazing.

- Love Catra (and Melog) just casually stealing a mushroom from a mushroom lady.

- So Catra’s just chilling in a tree and eating stolen mushrooms and Entrapta wants to analyze samples that’ll be ready in 4-6 weeks – neither of them’s really helping right now. But then again, Catra wanted to leave in the first place because she thought the locals would sell them out (and she was right about that), so she probably thinks it’s not worth the effort.

- Also, you know who this scene with Entrapta and Catra is missing? Scorpia. If there is one problem I have with season 5, it’s that we didn’t get any Super Pal Trio reunion / moments with all of them on the same side now. (Or just in general, that we didn’t get to see Scorpia and Catra properly talking things out.)

- “That’s the windy one, right?” Okay, am I the only one who finds this line weird? Spinnerella literally has Adora, Bow and Glimmer trapped in a tornado as Entrapta says this. Obviously she’s “the windy one”? Entrapta can literally see that??

- “Lord Prime has given me peace.” Oh, I’m just realizing that’s just what Catra said when she was chipped. That’s got to be awful for Adora to hear again.

- Glimmer grabbing Bow and Adora’s hands and teleporting them out of the tornado was badass.

Adora: “How are we supposed to fight our own friends?”

Catra: “It never stopped you before.”

OMG. I love that Catra still considers their time as enemies as “being friends”.

- I really love Netossa’s entrance. What makes it really cool to me is that at that point the Best Friend Squad didn’t even know if there were any unchipped princesses left, so Netossa jumping in there with a casual “Welcome back, guys” was just an amazing moment.

- Also, I don’t know if I’ve said this before, but I really like that this season finally made Spinnerella and Netossa more important characters. (And I wonder how much network censorship of LGBT+ storylines had to do with them not being that important earlier on.)

- Hordak getting flashbacks of Entrapta again (while Prime looks at his older body’s memories) is just 🥺. I like how Prime talks about Etheria while Hordak slowly remembers more and more about his own life on Etheria.

- “So, the only person I’m fighting here is… my own wife.” I love the on-screen confirmation that they’re married! But also, Netossa wanting to attack Catra and Wrong Hordak at first was pretty funny.

- Catra and Glimmer’s respective expressions when they hear about Scorpia and Micah being chipped are a gut punch. Also, Netossa talking about how she has to get Spinnerella back is making me tear up.

- “Where are the rebels?” “Right beside you!” 😂😂😂 Amazing, just amazing.

- Love to see Catra taking out those bots. She’s so badass ❤️.

- “Be careful.” “Always am.” I wonder at what point Netossa started to realize what’s going on between Catra and Adora.

- Love Netossa whistling at She-Ra’s new look. Your wife’s right there, darling. But then again, who wouldn’t whistle at She-Ra’s new look?

- Honestly, why did anyone ever say Spinnerella and/or Netossa were weak? Their fight here really shows how powerful both of them are when they don’t hold back.

- “Stop holding back. She won’t.” Looking past how hard this must be for Netossa, this line really sums up why so many characters in shows like this seemingly become more powerful when they turn evil (or less powerful when they turn good): Because the bad guys have no reason to hold back.

- Adora firing a rainbow beam from her sword was amazing. I wish we’d gotten to see a bit more of She-Ra’s new powers this season.

- “Please. I love you. Come back to me.” I’m crying 😢. That’s a nice first taste of all the “I love you”s to come in the finale. And I love that it works (even if just for a bit). The whole “power of love helps you break free from mind control” thing might be a cliché, but it’s a cliché I love, so…yay, awesome!

- But also, and I’ll probably talk about this more when I get to the next episode (that I had a few problems with), I like how Netossa doesn’t only rely on the power of love, but still realizes she has to first fight Spinnerella without holding back to get her into a position where they can even have this talk.

- Yay, mushroom town is saved!

- Catra reassuring Netossa that Spinnerella will be okay was so sweet. She’s really trying to be nice and I think she’s doing great 🥺. (Also, Adora looks at her so proudly.)

- I just noticed that when She-Ra replaces the Horde symbol in the sky with her sword symbol, all the Horde flags around town are already gone, too. Did Catra, Glimmer and the others just like… take all of those flags down in between fighting the bots? Or did Wrong Hordak maybe walk around taking off the flags while the others were fighting?

- That said, the rainbow sword in the sky looks amazing.

- “I think Horde Prime is going to know She-Ra’s back.” “Good.” Love Adora’s determined expression here.

- Geez Horde Prime, no need to punch the screen. The screen didn’t do anything to you.

- Okay, so Horde Prime finally decides to go to Etheria himself, and when he announces that, Hordak looks at the crystal in his hand – it’s all coming together.

- “This is where the rebellion is hiding out?” “Yup. Why, have you been here?” The looks on Glimmer and Catra’s faces here are amazing. People have of course already written all kinds of amazing metas analyzing their expressions, but the short version is that Glimmer seems to remember their fight fondly, while Catra seems embarrassed.

- Perfuma trapping them all in vines and demanding to see their necks is not only hilarious, but also shows that the rebellion has learned from their past mistakes. 👍

- All of their reunions (Bow and Perfuma, Glimmer and Frosta, Adora and Swift Wind, Entrapta and Emily) were super sweet – I like big reunion scenes 🥺. Wrong Hordak meeting Emily was adorable. Perfuma clinging to Bow and crying about how she doesn’t want to be in charge anymore had me laughing so hard 😂.

- Okay so, I know Frosta’s punch breaks the mood a moment later, but I really think Adora wanting to officially introduce Catra to everyone after seeing her standing there alone while everyone else was having big reunions was super sweet. The way her face falls when she sees Catra standing there sadly, the way she asks her to come here so gently… it’s just so sweet. 🥺

- Also, unpopular opinion, but am I the only one who didn’t really find Frosta punching Catra funny? (And the same goes for Scorpia electrocuting her in the next episode, by the way.) I know these moments are meant to be cathartic “drag the former villain because some people are still mad at them” moments, but Catra’s whole story is largely about being a victim of physical abuse. Wasn’t there some way for the story to make fun of her without having other characters physically assault her? I like how Catra’s redemption was handled overall, but moments like those kind of rub me the wrong way. (Netossa trapping her in a net was fine though, because that didn’t actually harm her.)

- That said, Adora’s “Catra’s with us now. Okay? Hmm.” was hilarious. I love how she just gives the briefest explanation and then turns away from Frosta with a smile and little “hmm”, just completely expecting Frosta to be fine with this now.

- That ending shot of all of them together is epic.

So, what changed this episode is that Erelandia was freed, the space group has reunited with the remaining princesses, and Horde Prime is heading for Etheria. Good episode!

[Previous episode] [Next episode]

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the-evil-authoress · 3 years

Text

GX Month Day 1: “Hero Signal”

We’re kicking things off with everyone’s favorite hero Judai/Jaden Yuki’s birthday! Show the fluffy boi some love!

This chaos ran away from me. But I’m quite happy with it.

Jaden’s knee bounces, one eye on the game in his hands, the other on his phone. He’s played this game a hundred times before so he doesn’t really need to pay full attention unless it’s the boss fight. His duffle bag is already packed. He’s ready this time, he’s waiting, he’s...excited? That’s a new concept. He can’t remember the last time he’d been excited for his birthday. But last year his friends had gone out of their way to surprise him, so-

Maybe he’s expecting too much.

No, no, we’re trying to be positive here!

Jaden shakes his head, misses the timing for a jump, and has to start the virtual obstacle course over. Today’s gonna be a good day. Clutching the console tighter, Jaden tries to ignore the thick, slimy feeling bubbling up his chest.

His phone vibrates and he dives for it.

[come meet me at central park]

Yes! He snaps the GameBoy shut without saving, chucks it in his bag as he shoulders it, and runs for the door. The park, huh? Maybe he’s not supposed to bring his stuff? Whatever, won’t be their first impromptu sleepover.

He snaps to a halt at the sight of his mother slipping her shoes off at the genkan. “Mom?”

She looks up as if startled to see him. “Judai?”

And there goes his good mood. His mother eyes the bag on his shoulder, what would have been a pleasant but entirely fake smile crinkling into a frown.

“I’m heading out,” he grumbles as he walks past her to get his own shoes.

“I got off early today so I thought we could go get a cake.” Ugh, she sounds so damnably confused, like really? What did you expect?

“I’m heading out!” Jaden snaps, shoving his shoes on, and throws himself out the door before she can get another word in edgewise. It slams behind him. He takes off running.

Geez. Breathing through his teeth, he tugs on his hair. No one even calls him that anymore. ‘Cept that freaking voice in his dreams-

Nope. Not thinking about that. Today’s gonna be a good day.

Winged Kuriboh trills by his head but it’s Neos’ voice that startles him. “She seemed like she was making an effort.”

“Too little, too late.” Jaden huffs and steadfastly plows forward to the train station and out of their middle of nowhere suburb. “I’ve already got plans.” He tightens his grip on the bag strap. And he’d much rather spend the day with people who actually know him and what he likes. He cringes in delight at the memory of the mountain of presents from last year. Wonder what they got him this time?

The train ride is dull like usual; Jaden sticks himself in a corner and plays on his GameBoy until Kuriboh alerts him to their stop. Then the console is shoved back in his bag as he shoulders it and shoves his way through the other passengers toward freedom. The park is a ten minute walk from there, and his friends are conspicuously easy to spot.

There’s a gazebo deck out in balloons and streamers and one of those shiny fucking rainbow “Happy Birthday” signs with his name. Sweet Neo Space, Jaden wants to hide in a trash can like Syrus did at the tournament.

“I can’t.” Jaden spins on his heel, hoping no one has spotted him yet. Sparkman actually goes out of his way to grab Jaden’s shoulders and spin him back around, and Jaden lets him despite the fact he could easily break out of the ghostly hold. “Alright, alright. Gods, my friends are embarrassing.”

As if on cue, someone must have noticed him because a chorus of voices call out.

“Jaden!”

“Jaden, over here!”

Yeah, like he hadn’t already seen the giant sign announcing his birthday to the world. That had to be Atticus’s idea. Walking up to the gazebo is an odd cocktail of emotions, somewhere between please let me die and I will die happy. A mountain of presents sit on the table. It’s...it’s bigger than last year?

“You look like you’re about to faint,” Bastion says, already offering an arm to steady Jaden.

“I might,” Jaden squeaks, a rare moment of vulnerability that is both terrifying and insanely freeing. “You guys... This is a lot.”

“And nothing less for such a special day!” Atticus throws his arms out in a grand display and Jaden winces with a strained laugh.

“A little too much,” he admits.

Atticus’s expression falls into confusion as Christina snorts and Alexis gives her brother a critical look. “I told you his name on the banner was too much.” Jaden nods in silent agreement, not daring to meet their eyes. Bastion’s arm remains a comforting support around his shoulders.

As extravagant as Atticus likes to act, he actually stops to consider this before shrugging. “I’ll keep that in mind then. I guess I do get carried away.” Scratching the back of his head, he smiles sheepishly.

“Oh you think?” Chazz scoffs. “Should have seen what my party looked like.”

Jaden latches onto the ability to swerve the conversation away from himself. “Oh, yeah! Sorry I missed that.”

“You weren’t even invited!” Chazz snaps. “That dolt went and invited himself!”

“You had fun and you know it,” Atticus says, undeterred.

“I have photo evidence,” Syrus says with a smug grin from where he sits on a table bench, and Chazz snaps to gape at him in horror.

“Delete them! Delete them, you little rat!”

“Make me!” Syrus challenges, deftly dodging Chazz’s lunge and darting behind Hassleberry, a solid wall of muscle who Chazz still tries to lunge around.

“Oi! Who said you could drag me into this?!” Hasselberry shoves both of them away as Chazz flails his arms uselessly at Syrus.

Snickering, Jaden moves away from Basation to drop his bag under the bench next to Christina as the game of chase continues. “You brought your bag.”

“Crashing at your place after this,” Jaden says. A statement not a question, and Christina sends him a look but thankfully doesn’t ask.

A screech pulls their attention to Chazz awkwardly dangling from the gazebo railing after what must have been an epic nosedive. “You did that on purpose!” he screams at a smug Syrus, and Jaden’s hands fly to his mouth as the laugh spills out of him.

“Think twice about chasing me next time!”

Just damn his friends are insane and Jaden loves it. Atticus and Bastion take pity on Chazz and help him back into the gazebo, while Jaden cautiously looks over the spread on the table. One side is the pile of colorful boxes, a giant cake with whip cream and strawberries on the other, and Jaden baulks at the figure with a book in his hand at the far end of the table.

“Zane??”

Without looking up, Zane points directly at Atticus and flips the page in his book. “Don’t get used to this.”

“Suuuure,” Christina drawls with one of those I know something you don’t want me to smiles. Ever the king of poker faces, Zane doesn’t react. He doesn't even react to Atticus dropping a party hat on his head on his way to the-

That’s a deep fryer. That’s a deep fucking fryer that Atticus pulls a fresh batch of fried shrimp out of. “Atticus,” Jaden croaks. “I love you but I hate you.”

“Awww, I love you too Jaden!” Atticus doesn’t miss a beat and Jaden slumps onto the bench to bury his face in his arms. These people will be the death of him!

And he will still die happy.

“I think we broke him.” Syrus pokes his shoulder.

“Just leave him alone for a bit.” That’s Alexis’ voice, a brief but firm hand on his shoulder to remind him she’s there if he needs her but will give him space. It’s a little terrifying how well she’s come to know him, that they all have really; Jaden can’t remember ever making the decision to let them get so close. But maybe it’s a good thing, Jaden thinks, as Atticus passes out plates of the best fried shrimp Jaden has ever tasted, he and Bastion eagerly exchange deck theories, and the mountain of presents turns out to be mostly snacks, new video games, and useful but themed items rather than more stuff that will collect dust in his room. The E-Hero throw blanket and the Winged Kuriboh pillow are coming with him to the dorm.

[I’m sorry I couldn’t make it! Happy birthday, Jaden!!! Send pictures!] Chumley texts part way into the festivities with a liberal amount of heart and party popper emojis, and Jaden has to take another moment to recollect himself.

“I tried to get Aster out here too, but the guy said he was too busy.” Atticus holds his hands aloft and shakes his head like this is such a tragedy.

“Hey, I’m surprised you got Zane in on this.” Jaden looks up from the pillow of his arms. He’s starting to tire in the high energy atmosphere but he doesn’t want to leave yet. Maybe his friends won’t care if he just zens for a bit? They didn’t seem to notice last time when he quietly retreated to the side with Christina, but they’d also been screaming over a board game.

“I had the day off anyway,” Zane says, still not looking up, and no one bothers him for not engaging. Then again, Zane has never been much for engaging in anything.

“Just keep pretending you don’t care.” Atticus ruffles Zane’s hair and Jaden sniggers at the way Zane’s poker face cracks the tiniest bit.

Syrus and Hassleberry start arguing over who’s gift Jaden liked better - Jaden refuses to choose much to their dismay - Christina and Alexis seem to be talking about a show they’re both into, and Chazz and Bastion are debating the existence of other realities - really, Chazz? They already know those exist. They’ve been to one.

Jaden smiles, hidden by his arm, left to chill in peace and interact as he pleases.

Yeah, this is a good thing.

Maybe us against the world doesn’t have to just be the two of them anymore.

#gxmonth2021 #ygogx #ygo gx #yugioh gx #yugiohgx #yu gi oh gx #jaden yuki #syrus truesdale #alexis rhodes #chazz princeton #atticus rhodes #zane truesdale #tyranno hassleberry #bastion misawa

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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years

Text

handmaid - 37

PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader

WARNINGS: age gap

A/N: this chapter is gonna be the last one and i think i’m gonna need therapy for attachment. finished this chapter after seeing seb’s baby pictures and now i think i need double the therapy. hope you enjoy this chapter, it has been such a pleasure to write for you, it’s been my absolute honour to read all the comments and to offer you this story. thank you so so much for all your support x

A YEAR LATER

Y/N woke up in her bedroom with the sounds of birds chirping, the signs that another spring day was starting to wake up in Paris. Extending her arms, she remained under her weighted blanket for a while, watching the chandelier above their bed. It had been a wedding present from her mother’s part of the family and while both her and Sebastian thought it was a bit too much, they eventually got their contractor to install it in their bedroom in their Paris apartment. It had taken a bit of time to get used to but now she had the ritual of waking up and watching the sun create little rainbows through the clear crystal of the chandelier.

After she felt her awake status surround her whole being, she left her bed, grabbing her dressing gown and wrapping herself around it before taking to the room next to her. Slowly and carefully, she pulled on the handle of the door down, opening it. Her eyes came in contact with the peaceful grey colours of the walls slightly decorated with small little ivory coloured clouds. Coming in closer, she let her hips slightly hit the white crib where the one year old was standing, wide awake with the ear of Sebastian’s old toy bunny, Oreo, in his mouth.

- Hello my little bunny. - she smiled down at her son who, recognising his mother’s voice, immediately started to giggle, extending his arms up to be picked up by her. Y/N merely smiled, extending her own arms towards his crib to pick him and hold him against her chest. - Let’s go have breakfast. Can you say breakfast?

- Dada. - he said with a smile that showed he was proud of himself. She rolled her eyes at the word, if there was something Sebastian had done perfectly was make sure their son’s first word would be dada and while Y/N had been trying to make sure Nate spoke anything else, he only proudly said dada much to her nuisance. Y/N merely smiled as she rolled her eyes, getting him off his grey onesie and into a white shirt with little train drawings and some dark jean overalls. - Dada, dada!

- Say mumma. - she laughed, holding him close as she took to the kitchen where Amelia was starting to cook some breakfast. - Mumma.

- Dadda! - he broke out in laughter, wrapping his chubby arms around his mother’s neck. Y/N merely smiled, sitting down on her chair and pulling the high chair with her foot, popping the tray off so she could sit the baby down who was never happy whenever she strapped him to his high chair which is why Sebastian normally did it himself, but as of today he was still in New York dealing with some business transaction gone wrong. Normally Y/N would’ve travelled along with him but ever since Nate had been born, she had been paranoid someone would try and harm him.

- Morning, Mrs. Stan. - Amelia placed a plate of Y/N’s favourite breakfast, poached egg on mushrooms in front of her and a blue plate of slice bananas in front of baby Nate whose hands immediately went for the slices. - Are you sure you don’t want me to bake the cake for baby Nathaniel?

- Your holiday started yesterday, Amelia. You shouldn’t even be here.

- It’s baby Nathaniel’s birthday.

- So it isn’t due to my husband? - she raised an eyebrow at the maid. - You don’t need to worry about me, I’ll be fine.

- Mr. Stan is worried.

- Mr. Stan is always worried. - to say that Sebastian had upped security since the ill fated Mr. Williams incident was an understatement. If Y/N left the house to go to the bakery, four armed men would follow her around with one in front, one in the back and two on each side. Yet, that was nothing compared to when Nathaniel went outside. She guessed it was a regular thing, after all her small little ball of sunshine was the one who would one of day solely inherit her mother’s fortune, her father’s family and Sebastian’s too. Either way, he was excessive with protection and she should’ve guessed he wouldn’t have allowed her to be alone with their son for a long while. Before she could try and convince the hardworking full time maid to take her much deserved holiday, Nate grabbed his plastic plate, smashing his face against the banana slices making her choke in a laugh. - Alright bunny, that’s enough bananas.

- Don’t be upset at him, Mrs. Stan.

- I won’t if you take your holiday. - Y/N pushed her plate away from her, walking to her son’s high chair. Nate extended his chubby arms towards her, cooing to be removed from it which she complied to, holding him to her chest as she walked over to the living room that was filled with toys and other things belonging to Nate. He was spoiled but in this Y/N couldn’t completely blame Sebastian as she could be even as bad as him when it came to fullfilling her son’s requests.

Placing him on his baby matt, Nate turned onto his belly crawling over to her mother’s knees, looking up at her with a look that could only be described as cheeky. Y/N lowered to her knees, watching as Nathaniel crawled around happily with his toy bunny. He still didn’t say much and was still learning to how to walk, instead putting himself up on his legs, holding onto the couch before eventually collapsing to the ground. Speaking of which, the one year hold grasped onto the white leather and pulling himself off the ground and on his chubby legs, the other hand firmly gripping onto the bunny’s ears.

- Do you wanna try and walk all the way to mumma? - she asked the blue eyed baby who looked away from her and back again. - Go on, come to mumma.

Nate looked at her with confusion, the eyes he had definitely inherited from his father looking around the room almost as if he was preparing to fall into a pit of fire. With Oreo clenched by the ear, he let go of the couch, standing on his chubby baby legs. Before he could take another step, he went tumbling towards the ground yet Y/N was faster than that, moving so she could catch her baby before he got hurt. As he collapsed on her lap, he turned his head up to look at his mother, pouty lips and tear filled eyes.

- It’s okay, baby. It’s okay. - she pushed the brown curls away from his face, leaning down to kiss the top of his head. - It’s okay, mumma will always be here to catch you.

- Mumma. - he babbled, burying his head on her chest.

- What did you say? - she looked down in disbelief but before the baby could say it again the front door opened, a very familiar voice coming through.

- Where’s the birthday boy? - Y/N rolled her eyes, picking Nate up and getting up before walking to the entrance where Sebastian was taking his jacket off, placing away his gun before his wife could complain to him about weapons near the baby. His eyes shined with pride as he watched Y/N stand in front of him, holding their son on her arms, who had taken to hide his face in the middle of her hair. - Someone’s shy today.

- Guess what. - she walked closer to him, pecking him quickly. - Nate said mumma.

- No way. - Sebastian cooed at his son, caressing the top of his head. - You can say mumma, little buddy?

- Dadda! - Nate shrilled out of pure joy, extending his arms towards him which Sebastian gladly took, kissing the side of his head.

- You know, Seb, next time you ask the maid to watch over me at least let me know. - she leaned against him, head on his shoulder. - My father’s security can handle me and Nate when you’re not around, I told you that a million times.

- Can you blame me for wanting you and him to be safe?

- No, I can however blame you for making the hardworking maid work overtime. - she smirked. - How’s New York?

- It’s rather bleak when you’re not there.

- Did you speak with my father? - she questioned, fully knowing Sebastian would probably be questioned by her family back in New York at arrival.

- Yes and both him and Dan think it’s rude that they’re not invited to Nate’s birthday.

- Nate’s not getting a big birthday party, I told them.

- I know, angel, but you know how much your father likes this little bunny. - Sebastian smiled at his son who had taking to munching his jacket’s collar, eyes looking into the ones exactly like his. - Pretty sure the only reason I’m not dead is because I’m his dad.

- C’mon, we need to take Nate’s cake out of the fridge and sing happy birthday before his nap time.

- It’s his birthday, angel. Can’t he skip night time?

- Sure, he can. However if he does then we lose night time fun as you’ll be the one to check on him when he tries to climb out the crib.

- Birthday cake time it is. - he followed Y/N into the kitchen, placing his son on his play matt. The baby rolled around, hands gripping several of his toys while his father went to the kitchen, wrapping his arms around his wife’s waist, placing a kiss on her shoulder. - Did you miss me?

- Of course I did. - she turned around to kiss him, hands on top of his shoulders as if they hadn’t seen each other in years. - It gets awfully cold when you’re alone in a king size bed.

- Mhm, it does get very cold, doesn’t it? - his hands toyed around with the string that held her wrap up dress in place. - Does our son’s birthday also count as my birthday?

- Why would it count as your birthday? - she furrowed her brows.

- It’s the anniversary of when I became a father and I think I deserve a little present. - he leaned down to kiss her neck.

- Well, I think th ...

- MUMMA! - the babyish voice coming from the living room interrupted her sentence and made Y/N look over Sebastian’s shoulder to see Nate standing on his chubby legs as he took a few small steps towards the kitchen table.

- Oh my god. - she ducked under Sebastian’s hold to meet her son midway, grabbing the polaroid camera on the way to take a photo before he fell down or decided to sit down. - You’re walking. Nate, you’re walking!

- What? - Sebastian turned around, joining his wife who was now sat on the ground with her arms opened towards Nate who quickly walked over to her before falling on top of her chest. - He walked, he just walked!

- I know. - Y/N picked the baby up, kissing his little fat cheeks. - I’m so proud of you, I’m so proud of you baby Nate.

- I can’t believe he’s walking already. We need another one.

- Sebastian, we just had one.

- Yeah but he’s walking and he can say mumma and dadda. In no time he’ll be going off to university and won’t want snuggles anymore.

- Honey, Nate can’t say anything other than mumma and dadda, is still eating soft solids, and he doesn’t even have all his teeth yet. He won’t be going to university any time soon.

- No, I think we need another one. A girl this time, so we have one of each.

- Seb, darling, I don’t think that’s how it works. Besides, wouldn’t you rather wait til Nate is a bit older and doesn’t require attention all the time?

- I know, it’s just that looking at you with our son makes me want to have at least 10 more kids.

- I won’t push 10 more kids. - she laughed, kissing his cheek before looking down to Nate who was cuddling her and his bunny. - For now, for now I have everything I could have ever dreamed of.

- Should we get that cake then?

- It’s in the fridge. - Y/N carefully got up, holding her precious baby close to her chest as Sebastian went and grabbed the little cupcake. The ex handmaid placed her son on his high chair as Sebastian put the little cupcake in front of him, lighting a single candle with his lighter which immediately caught the attention of small Nate whose eyes widened in pure joy and curiosity.

The mob boss wrapped his arm around his wife, kissing the side of her head before the two of them started singing Happy Birthday to little Nate who was clearly more interested in the flame of his candle. Once the song came to an end, both of them cheered, clapping at the baby who looked at his parents in confusion.

- C’mon, Nate blow the candle. - Sebastian took to be by his son’s side, making a blow motion with his lips. Nate merely turned to his mother, confused at his father’s actions.

- Why don’t we do it together? - Y/N stood by her son’s other side, blowing the candle together with Sebastian while Nate giggled, clapping his hands out of pure joy. - Happy Birthday, sweetheart. Mumma loves you, dadda loves you.

The rest of the day went rather uneventful, with Nate making both his parents laugh as he decided to eat the cupcake with his hands, getting his cheeks full of chocolate. He remained awake for a few hours, playing with his father while Y/N read one of her books in the couch, wondering how she’d gotten so lucky to have such a precious son and such a loving husband. As night began to make its presence known and the birthday boy became grumpy, Y/N put him back in his crib returning to the living room to see Sebastian standing on their balcony watching the Tower Eiffel’s lights. Without him noticing, she walked behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso, allowing herself to be involved by the scent of his cologne.

- Hello there, Mrs. Stan. - he turned around in her embrace, hand going to hold hers. - How about a dance?

- I can never say no to you, Mr. Stan.

He leaned his head to rest against the space between her neck and shoulder, free hand holding her waist as the two of them moved slowly from side to side. In that moment, no money belonging to her or to him, no empire he’d built or family she inherited mattered for in that moment he had his whole world in his arms and that ... that was enough.

tag list: @lilya-petrichor @xoxohannahlee @nikkipea @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @madisonpillstrom @cevans98 @thelostallycat @sideeffectsofyou @anxiousdreamersworld @captainchrisstan @lookiamtrying @sarge-barnes-sir @stuffforreferences @thebadassbitchqueen @sebastianstansqueen @nsfwsebbie @strangerliaa @emzd34 @everything-is-awesomesauce @dreams-in-blxck @krismeunicornbaobei @buckysteveloki-me

#sebastian stan #sebastian stan/reader #sebastian stan/you #sebastian stan/y/n #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan x y/n #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan drabble #sebastian stan fanfic #sebastian stan AU #mob!sebastian stan #mob boss!sebastian stan #mafia!sebastian stan #mafia boss!sebastian stan #mobster!sebastian stan

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fablesrose · 3 years

Text

Drunk on the Memories

Summary: Eliot gets drunk with an old friend, before he even joined the military, they insist on singing to each other

Word count: 1805

Pairing: Eliot Spencer x Fem!Reader

Square filled: Drunken Confession

Masterlist ~ Bingo Masterlist

Warnings: Talk of war, drinking (obv)

Songs: I Wanna be in the Cavalry by Corb Lund, I Wanna be in the Cavalry Reprise by Corb Lund, Wish You Were Here by Pink Floyd

A/n: this is for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo, I did cut out a verse or two on the first too songs to keep it shorter and less graphic but I really enjoyed writing this, so enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Are you drunk enough yet?”

I shook my head and knocked back another drink, “Now I am, you?”

Eliot took a large swig of whiskey right from the bottle, “Hand me the guitar.”

I passed it to him with a smile. He grunted and strummed it a couple of times, grumbling that it was out of tune. He started turning the knobs to change the pitch of the strings and my mind drifted to the last time I had heard him sing.

It was years ago, we were both young, broke, and stupid as hell. His one brain cell was telling him to join the military, so that’s what he did. He was being deployed the next morning, so all of our friends and family gathered round a fire, passed the booze around, and insisted on having a swell time. It got to the point where we were drunk enough to do anything, so someone shoved a guitar into Eliot’s hands and told him to put on one last show.

He laughed but started to sing all the same.

“I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war

I wanna good steed under me like my forefathers before

I wanna good mount when the bugle sounds and I hear the cannons' roar

I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war.”

Everybody quieted down to listen to him. It was an upbeat song, but it settled in that he was going to war. And with a voice like his, how could you not listen?

“I wanna horse in the volunteer force that's riding forth at dawn

Please save for me some gallantry that will echo when I'm gone

I beg of you sarge let me lead the charge when the battle lines are drawn

Lemme at least leave a good hoof beat they'll remember loud and long”

Wolf whistles rose from our group as the energy picked back up again. His face was smiling, young, and full of joy.

“I'd not a good foot soldier make, I'd be sour and slow at march

And I'd be sick on a navy ship, and the sea would leave me parched

But I'll be first in line if they'll let me ride, by god, you'll see my starch

Lope back o'er the heath with the laurel wreath underneath that vict'ry arch”

We laughed. He stood and we cheered him on as he danced around the fire and wove through us. I became mesmerized by him as his voice seemed to light up the area as much as the fire, and warmed me the same amount. Before I knew it he was singing the last verse.

“Let 'em play their flutes and stirrup my boots and place them back to front

For I won't be back on the rider-less black (jack) and I'm finished in my hunt

I wanna be in the cavalry if I must go off to war

I wanna be in the cavalry, but I won't ride home no more”

I was pulled out of my trance as the Eliot before me started to sing, similarly drunk, but different in every other way.

“I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war

I wanna good steed under me like my forefathers before

“Courageous at first we took their worst, our positions we held stout

We clung to belief and we hung on the speech from our trusted leaders' mouths

Overwhelming odds and a hopeless cause and our cities overrun

There were them that said we was badly led and God were we outgunned”

When we met earlier he seemed okay, happy even, but with the alcohol came a weariness that only someone who had seen too much could hold. His hands were precise and aged, far from the man I knew that was young and quick, but they still held the same grace with the music.

“I lost count of the worthy mounts that from under me were cut

My favourite mare with her head in the air took the cannons in her gut

In the first two weeks on that bloody creek my brother lost his arm

Was only sixty days till all we prayed was get us home unharmed”

My heart ached as I remembered similar prayers that left my lips, prayers for peace, for safety, for an end of the pain, anyway necessary at points. I could tell that more feeling was in this version of the song then the one I remembered so long ago. That every word that flowed from his mouth was a more of a memory.

“O for the day that we signed our names and the well that we were wished

The men's congrats and the pats on the backs and the ladies that we kissed

The band that played and the grande parade and the patriotic shouts

All faded fast, didn't even last till the uniforms wore out

“We were finally forced to feed on horse and carcass we could scrounge

When the wagons stopped and we'd burnt their crops to charred and barren ground

With morale in doubt and our pride run out no honour did I see

All I seen were a thousand dreams piled dead in front of me

“I wanna be in the cavalry if they send me off to war

I wanna be in the cavalry, but I won’t ride home no more.”

The apartment echoed the reverberations of the strings. I felt myself sway a little before I grabbed onto the counter with a clap. The alcohol was stirring up some unwelcome feelings in the silence.

“Come on little filly, I believe it’s your turn.”

I chuckled, shaking away the previous emotions, “Fine.”

I grabbed the ukulele that was laid on the floor by the counter.

He laughed, “You still play that thing? What are you gonna sing? Somewhere Over the Rainbow?”

I shook my head, “Yes, as a matter of fact I do still play this thing, and no I won’t be singing Somewhere Over the Rainbow.”

I did think about it. I will admit that, though only to myself. Instead, I chose something that I remembered. Something familiar. Maybe the alcohol had something to do with it.

I strummed the strings, making sure it sounded right before plucking out a tune.

“So, so you think you can tell

Heaven from hell?

Blue skies from pain?

Can you tell a green field

From a cold steel rail?

A smile from a veil?

Do you think you can tell?”

I felt my eyes water. I kept telling myself I drank too much. It was the alcohol making me emotional, but I knew that was only part of it. It’s been years since I last saw Eliot. We had led different lives, but somehow we still ended up here, more similar than we would have thought.

“Did they get you to trade

Your heroes for ghosts?

Hot ashes for trees?

Hot air for a cool breeze?

Cold comfort for change?

Did you exchange

A walk-on part in the war

For a leading role in a cage?”

Eliot’s face was blank, cold. Maybe he was lost in some memories of his own this time. I blinked away the wet eyes and focused back on the strings under my fingertips.

“How I wish, how I wish you were here

We're just two lost souls

Swimming in a fish bowl

Year after year

Running over the same old ground

What have we found?

The same old fears

Wish you were here.”

I sighed and squeezed my eyes shut.

“That was real pretty.”

I smiled bitterly, “Why thank you, you aren’t so bad yourself.”

“What made you pick that song?”

I poured myself another drink, “What made you pick yours?”

He paused, not expecting the question.

“Memories.”

I smiled and nodded, “Me too.” I moved to take a sip, when I hesitated and placed it back down, anymore and I would be sick. “You know, I sang that song to myself every time I missed you.”

“So once every couple of years?”

“Everyday sometimes.”

There was a pause between us.

“It almost hurt worse when I saw you afterwards, because I would still sing it. Because you still weren’t here with us, not really. Now here we are, both drunk as hell, both got dirt, probably more on our hands, and I’m singing it to you.”

I touched my face to find the tears rolling down my cheeks.

“Now what does that say about me?” I wiped my face and sniffed, trying to compose myself again.

Eliot slid off his stool and stood between my knees, “It means that you’re still that same girl I left in that small and dusty town.”

I scoffed, “We both know that’s not entirely true.”

His hands came up to my face, “Sure it is, you’re still strong, beautiful, caring, and the best friend I could barely hope for.”

His hands were warm on my jaw, rough, but soothing. I couldn’t help but whisper, “What if I told you I wanted to be more than friends?”

He took a step closer to the point where I could feel his breath on my face. I looked up at him, still a little taller than me even on the stool.

“What if I told you I wanted to kiss you?”

“I’d tell you I feel the same.”

“Me too.”

He dipped his head to my lips. He tasted of the whiskey we’d been drinking, but maybe the taste of my last shot was just lingering on my tongue. His hands drifted to the back of my neck, his fingertips caressing my scalp. I found myself gripping his shoulder and forearm, trying to keep myself anchored. Eliot took another step that pushed my stool backwards. Now my back was against the counter and Eliot’s chest was pressed against mine.

We paused for a moment with our eyes closed and foreheads pressed together.

“I’ve wanted to do that for a long time.” I could feel the vibrations in his chest as he spoke, and I let out a sigh.

“Yeah.”

Eliot’s hands softly untangled from my hair and drifted over my shoulders, down my back and traced my waist. He slipped them under my thighs and lifted me up onto the counter, pushing the stool underneath and out of the way. He didn’t make a sound as he wrapped is arms around me, burying his face in my neck.

I ran my hands through his long hair, holding him close. Eventually he left soft kisses on my neck, leading up to my jaw, before leaving one more on my lips.

“You don’t have to sing that song alone anymore, I’m here.”

“Yeah, you are. You rode home. You rode home to me.”

Best Buds: @snarky--starky @kitkatd7 @confetti-its-an-imagine-blog @kaogasm

#Eliot Spencer x reader #leverage #eliot spencer #Girl Next Door's Make Me Feel Bingo #make me feel bingo #fluff #angst #drunken confession #drinking #fluffy ending

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writing-the-end · 3 years

Text

LoL Chapter 56- Ancient Quarrels

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Ex returns home with new friends, but struggles with the reality that his old stomping grounds have grown up without him, all while learning more about the history of dark magic.

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

“I thought I told you to come alone.” Xisuma states, staring at the rainbow haired twins. No matter how much the two try to blend in, the ever shifting colors of their locks always stand out.

“I thought you could use the help. You clearly need it if you reached out to me.” Ex steps off the pirate ship, followed by the king and his brother. Ex tries his best to keep his gaze on the ground at his feet, the grass, sand, and dirt. He doesn’t want to see what Xisuma and all his friends have done to the safe haven they found together. As brothers. He doesn’t want to see what he's missed, what he’s been too afraid to claim for his own. He doesn’t want to see how much time has changed the island he once called home.

But Ex stumbles over a rock, his books scattering from his arms, while he plummets to the ground. He could let go of his remaining scrolls and books, but these articles are ancient and invaluable. He’d rather break his nose than let go of them.

Lucky for Ex, he doesn’t have to choose. One of the hermits grabs him before he gets a mouthful of dirt. Ex opens his eyes, forced to look at the island. And he sees everything.

It looka exactly the same. It looks completely different. The grounds were the same- the same rocky shores, soft beaches, hills, forest, even the lake at the center on the north side of the island. The grass the same green color, the sky the same blue, the distant mist and waves dancing together. But dotting the island now stood a menagerie of buildings. Where there used to only be the tower of stone he and X built, now a glass biodome rests on one side, a barn on the other. Smoke rolls free from the chimney of a weaponsmith’s house, and just off the island a cloud floats low, the white tower upon it open to the breeze of the sea.

Ex collects his books, and slinks off to the guild hall. Sor follows Grian to help with Apatia, to make the decision on how to move forward with his recovery. Tris follows behind Ex, taking in the open sea and sky. So unlike Milliara.

It was exactly that which drew the void twins here in the first place. They dared enter the Ashioll sea because it was quiet, peaceful, unlike Milliara. Back when there were only two- they didn’t need anyone more. They didn’t want anyone more. In the end, Ex got to be alone, moreso than ever. Without even a brother.

Being back on Eremita was painful, but as a healing wound would be. For the first time in years, his brother reached out to him. For the first time, they were putting aside the argument so long ago and working together. Like they did when they were young.

At the same time, both X and Ex set out their books on the same table. At the same time, like mirror images of one another, they set out their maps, their inkwells, their quills, even their books ordered the exact same way. The similarities between the two were uncanny, leaving the hermits baffled as they watch them. If it wasn’t for Ex’s white hair, it’d be impossible to tell them apart.

Ex speaks first, pulling the red fabric of his cloak away from his face so the hermits can hear him. “The last known insurgence of dark magic was over a thousand years ago. Before Lairyon became a kingdom, near the end of the ancient ones’s time. As we all know, Addows is the only place that still has significant and readable history of the ancient ones. Everything disappeared just like them.”

“And no one knows why.” Tris adds in, sitting down and plucking a book. He flips through the pages. “The ancient ones had magic more powerful than most wizards. Very few forms of ancient powers survive today- including angelic magic.”

The hermits look at Grian, but he simply shrugs. He knows nothing about the ancient ones, just that they’re… well, ancient. Iskall speaks up, resting his cheek on his hand. “Could it be that it was the dark magic that wiped them out?”

Both of the void twins and Tris shake their head, and begin to answer at the same time. Ex and X glare at one another, and Tris takes the moment to answer instead. “No, it’s not like there’s a sign of a fight, or a struggle, or anything. Just...one day they were all over this kingdom, and then- poof, gone.”

“But the ancient ones weren’t the only people here. The kiplings have been living in these waters longer than anyone. And if we cross reference the information King Sormena gave me access to in the royal library, and the deep sea libraries of the Kiplings, we can start to get an inkling of understanding.”

“My gods you’re so boring even now.” Xisuma groans. “We dont need the whole story, and Lairyon doesn’t have time. What did you learn and how can we use it to defeat Dolios?”

“Well…” Ex bits his lip. “We didn’t learn how they defeated the dark magic all those times before. But we did find the location of one of their lost cities. Tris and I believe it could even be the ancient capital of theirs.”

The hermits groan, some even dramatically flopping back in their chairs. It seems all they ever have are breadcrumbs, leading them around in circles all across Lairyon. TFC speaks up first, though even he seems exhausted. “It’s better than nothing. It’s our only hope at this point. So where is it?”

“Tris had pinpointed the general location of the lost city in the Ashioll Fjords, but together we were able to determine the exact location.” Ex plucks a quill from the table, dipping the tip in the ink and marking one of the many divots and crests of the northernmost part of Lairyon. All the hermits lean in, peering at the location. It looks no different from any other part of the fjords, or even the rest of Lairyon.

“If anyone knows how to defeat Dolios’s dark magic, it has to be the ancient ones.” Etho states. “They did it before, we just have to do it again.”

It gives the hermits hope to know this isn’t the first time, they aren’t the only ones in all of history to face dark magic. Ex looks up at the hermits, a question that’s been dancing in his mind finding its way to his tongue before he can stop it. “Why did you guys ever decide to do this? What in the world made you guys think you could take on a dark wizard? Be the chosen few like the ancient ones?”

The hermits look at one another, as if they’d find an answer in the stares and faces of their peers. But no one has the answer. Though Joe is more than willing to come up with his own. “Perhaps, in this story, there are no chosen ones. No destiny or prophesied heroes. Perhaps it is just by the choice of normal man, who chooses to make a difference, who chooses to stand up and fight, that is really what makes a hero?”

“Is this what I missed when I left?” Ex questions Xisuma, who nods solemnly.

“What will we find in the lost city?” Grian questions.

“I dunno, it’s lost.” Tris quips, causing Grian to blush when he realizes his question. “But if it’s anything like Addows, you should be prepared for ancient ones magic and the stone buildings they made their cities from. Apart from that- you just gotta look in the right place.”

The hermits realize they’re going in on this blind. Once again, they have little more than a hope, a thread of a lead, taking them somewhere in search of answers. Whether it was Gildara, or the Champion’s Cup, or even the Forest of Memories, they’ve always been chasing the same specter of knowledge. Hoping to find something more.

“But you won’t be alone this time.” Ex points out. The hermits turn to face him, his face so familiar, yet so vastly different. “King Sormena volunteered to go along with you, to give aid on your search.”

Tris averts his gaze, his jaw set tight at the mention of his brother joining the hermits. Doc raises his hand, almost condescending. “Won’t Dolios notice the king is gone?”

“He’s not in Milliara right now. The Wanderers informed me of that- where he is, I don’t know, but this is a rare opportunity that we can’t waste. You’ll need every mind and magic to figure out the puzzles and clues that the lost city may have. I’d best get packing if i were you guys.”

Groups disperse off, back to their homes, caves, ships, and clouds. Once again preparing, as a whole guild, to go off on another adventure. Even Tris disappears, either to go find and argue with his brother, or get a pint of beer from Cleo. But one person stays behind.

Xisuma doesn’t ever look directly at his brother, but he always turns his head just slightly to be able to see Ex shuffling papers. His body is aimed out from the guild hall, looking over, across the island of Eremita. After a few minutes of uncomfortable silence, X speaks up. “Will you be able to take care of Apatia while we’re gone? I don’t think he can go back to Milliara with you.”

Ex raises an eyebrow. It almost sounds like an invitation to stay on the island. Almost. “I guess if no one else will, I can offer my help. And glean information from him about the magistrate. Perhaps I can talk to Ian about engineering a prosthesis… Kiplings aren’t really meant to live without their fins.”

The void mage shakes his head, listening to his brother continue to ramble on under his breath. So many years apart, and yet the same old Ex. For the first time in years, after so long hating his twin, refusing to talk to him, removing every sign he ever existed on this island, now he’s standing in their guild hall. And for the first time in years, Xisuma feels like he can let go of the anger and tension from that fight so long ago.

Ex steps up beside Xisuma, and the two gaze over Eremita. They watch as Keralis and Zedaph round up sheep for their midday meal, Iskall, Mumbo, and Grian arguing over what kind of redstone they could possibly need on their journey, Wels and False sharpening the blades of their own weapons and others.

He doesn’t want to admit it, but Eremita looks more alive than it ever was when it was just the two of them. The colors of all different wizards, from all walks of life. All a part of this guild that Xisuma has found. All this, that Ex was afraid of. “You’ve done a good job building yourself a home. Finding yourself a family. Guess you didn’t really need me.”

Xisuma turns, and removes his mask. For the first time in years, Ex can see his brother's face. They can both see the scars they left on each other. On their skin and in their hearts. Xisuma’s fingers run along the scratched out marking in the metal. Wishing he could take that fit of anger back and fix it. “I didn’t do this without you, though. When I wasn’t sure what to do, it was always your annoying voice that guided me to the right decision.”

“We have the same voice.” Ex points out.

“Exactly. No matter what, no matter what I did, you were still with me, a part of me. But when I didn't know what to do, I thought about what you would choose. And it always led me in the right direction. Even though you weren’t here, I still needed you. I still needed my brother.”

To hear that word come from Xisuma’s mouth, to hear him call Ex that- brother. All these years, all he ever wanted was his brother back. To have a family again. Ex can feel tears stinging at the corners of his eyes, but he doesn’t want his brother to see him crying over such a simple thing. “I think it’ll be nice to have a family again. It...it feels good to be home.”

#hermitcraft #hermitcraft au #light of lairyon #wizard hermits #wizard au #hermitcraft fanfic #wizard xisuma #wizard ex #xisuma #evil xisuma #wizard tfc #wizard etho #tinfoilchef #ethoslab

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olliepig · 3 years

Text

Centre Stage, ch 10

It’s taken a while thanks to real life thoroughly kicking my ass, but the next chapter is finally here! Massive thanks to my amazing beta and cheerleader @willow-salix, who, along with @misssquidtracy, @sugar-fiend, @inertplanetary and @chenria have all variously listened to me moaning and picked me up over the last few months.

As always, the whole thing is also on AO3 here.

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

Tucking his phone into his pocket, Scott pushed himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against, letting his long legs quickly take him around the groups of tourists as he made his way back towards the entrance to the gardens of the Peterhof. The unplanned alone time while Cat was stuck in an overrunning rehearsal had been a rare treat that he’d made the most of, exploring almost every inch of the palace and its extensive grounds as he enjoyed the peace of solitude that was hard to find on the busy island.

Now, alerted to her imminent arrival, he glanced at his watch impatiently, calculating that, despite her lateness, they would still have a gloriously uninterrupted twenty hours together before she was due back at the theatre the following evening.

Her debut with the Mariinsky Ballet in St Petersburg was a big deal, and he’d lost count of the number of times she had told him about the history of the company and the honour of being asked to dance with them. Her excitement had been infectious and, despite it causing a raised eyebrow from his dad when he had asked for the time off rota to attend, he wouldn’t have missed it for the world.

He was ashamed to admit that he hadn’t officially told his father about her, despite them having been dating for close to eight months. He knew Jeff wasn’t stupid and was completely aware that he had a girlfriend, but something had always held him back from sitting down with him and bringing it up. The obvious time for that would have been right after his return from the Oort Cloud, but it had been such early days in their relationship that he hadn’t wanted to do anything that might put more pressure on it. As the weeks went on and they grew closer, it never seemed to be the right time and, with every passing week, it became harder and harder to admit that it had been going on the whole time.

Turning his collar up against the bitterly cold wind coming off the Baltic Sea, Scott made it to the entrance just in time to see a sleek black car pull in. A smile crept onto his lips as he caught sight of Cat peering out at the golden domes of the palace behind him, reminding him of her first arrival onto the island where he was completely ignored in favour of Two behind him. This time, however, he didn’t have to fight for her attention when she got out. She flew into his arms, catching his lips with hers in a fierce kiss before disentangling herself.

“Well, hello there,” Scott smiled as she grabbed her bag from the back of the car, slamming the door with a force that made him wince. “It’s nice of you to finally join me.”

“Oh shut it,” Cat grinned in response, taking the opportunity to snuggle back into him again. “It couldn’t be helped today and well you know it. Anyway, you know I’m worth the wait.”

“You sure are,” he agreed, placing a gentle kiss on her forehead as he tightened his arms around her, taking comfort from her presence. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” she murmured as she pulled back, taking him in properly for the first time, his pale skin and the dark circles under his eyes making her eyes widen in surprise. “Are you OK?” she asked, concern firing through her, “You look tired.” “I always look tired,” Scott countered, meeting her gaze briefly before quickly looking away, finding a passing bird very interesting as he saw the worry written on her face.

“OK then, smartarse,” Cat pressed, his lack of eye contact making her even more suspicious that something was amiss. “You look more tired than usual.”

“I’m OK, honestly,” Scott reassured her, finally looking at her properly, his eyes a studied calm that Cat didn’t fully trust. “It’s just been a busy week that’s all. You don’t need to worry.”

Cat nodded slightly, accepting his answer without further comment but making a mental note to keep an eye on him over their time together. She couldn’t put her finger on it, but she knew him well enough to know when something wasn’t quite right and all her instincts were screaming at her, telling her that this was one of those times.

“Shall we?” Scott asked, effectively changing the subject as he gestured to the entrance before them.

“Lead on,” she declared as they set off. They navigated their way through the imposing gates and past the grand palace, following the path that Scott had discovered on his previous exploration that would take them into the lower gardens with their spectacular fountains.

Despite the significant difference in their height, they fell into a comfortable stride with each other, Cat matching Scott’s pace with ease as they made their way around the beautiful grounds. Her hand fitted perfectly in his and he found himself absentmindedly tracing circles on her soft skin with his thumb as they walked together, not feeling the need to talk as they simply enjoyed being in each other's company for the first time in several weeks.

Cat lost track of time as they wandered, marvelling at the multitude of little fountains and walkways that littered the Lower Gardens. Scott confidently led the way down paths covered by archways of carefully trained trees, their fresh Spring leaves rustling as they provided merciful shelter from the contrasting warmth of the sun and the coldness of the breeze.

Finally coming out into the open, they came to a halt underneath the rear aspect of the palace, taking in the full vista. The late afternoon sun made the golden statues in the fountains sparkle as the water droplets created rainbows in the breeze.

“It’s so beautiful,” Cat sighed wistfully. “It reminds me a lot of Versailles.”

“Funny you should say that,” Scott smiled. “Apparently, Peter the Great extended the original plans after he visited Versailles, so I don’t think it’s a coincidence that it looks so similar.”

“How on earth do you know that?” Cat asked, trying but failing to keep the incredulity out of her voice.

“Because I’m amazing?” Scott tried, batting his eyelashes at her and making her giggle.

“Well yeah, we know you are, but generally, even amazing people need to find stuff out for themselves somehow,” she pointed out, raising an eyebrow as she spoke.

“Aah, but I’m not just any person,” he reminded her.

“Also true, but you’re not known for your interest in Imperial Russian history either, so spill it,” Cat pressed playfully, giving him a nudge and fixing him with her best pleading stare.

“Not fair,” he complained, the effect ruined slightly by the smile playing on the corners of his lips. “You know I can’t resist when you look at me like that.”

“Who said anything about fair,” she laughed as she wrapped her arms around his neck, batting her own eyelashes a few times for good measure.

“Fine,” he groaned, conceding defeat and wriggling out of her grasp to pull a guidebook out of his pocket. “I had to pass the time somehow when I was waiting for you, so I thought I’d try to learn a few things to impress you when you got here.”

“OK, that might be the cutest thing I’ve ever heard,” Cat murmured as she wrapped her arms around him again and buried her face in his shoulder, unsure what she’d done to be so lucky as to have someone as wonderful as him in her life.

Scott didn’t hesitate. Sliding a hand into her hair, he pulled her head back, meeting her lips with his own in a bruising kiss, the intensity of which took both of them by surprise. Pulling back, their eyes met briefly before Cat tightened her grip, burying her face in his shoulder once more as he cradled her head in his hand, holding her close against him, the outside world ceasing to exist.

For a long moment they remained there, cocooned in their own little world, until a sudden flash caught Scott’s eye, jolting him out of his reverie, his whole body stiffening at the first sign of a threat. Looking around he became aware that they had attracted quite the crowd, a number of whom were snapping pictures of them. Most concerningly was the woman he could see further behind the rest with what looked to him to be a telephoto lens on a professional camera. Immediately, he lost all sense of calm as his mind started working through all the options for getting them out of the situation.

Sensing his discomfort, Cat pulled back, looking up at him, taking in his troubled eyes before craning her head around to try and see what was upsetting him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, only seeing groups of people milling around and flashing a smile at someone who seemed to be taking pictures of them.

“There’s a photographer over there,” Scott told her quietly, not wanting to make a scene and draw even more attention to them.

“OK,” Cat agreed warily, her smile fading as she took in his serious demeanour, unclear as to why he was suddenly so worried about being photographed when it had happened plenty of times in the past. “And this is a problem because…?”

“Because some of these pictures will end up in the press, and then we’ll have to decide whether to confirm or deny the speculation about our relationship,” Scott finished, suddenly unsure as to whether to keep her close or put some distance between them.

“Why do we have to do either?” Cat asked, looking up at him in confusion. “Can we not just let them talk and while they’re busy doing that, we can get on with our lives?”

“I mean, I guess that could be an option?” Scott mused uncertainly, his mind still whirling with the ramifications of them being pictured together as he reluctantly let go of her and dropped his arms to his sides.

Refusing to let anyone put an enforced distance between them, Cat discreetly slipped her hand into his and gave it a squeeze. She looked around, trying to decide on the best way to get them away from the situation that seemed to be making Scott so uncomfortable. Spotting a narrow path, she moved off, leading him away from the Grand Cascade and into a more secluded area in which she hoped they could talk more privately. Walking together quietly, she could feel him relaxing as the onlookers thinned out, allowing her the space to gather her thoughts before continuing the conversation.

The idea of making a private relationship public had always seemed absurd to her and wasn’t a subject she’d thought they would have to decide on so soon, despite the constant media interest in the love lives of the Tracy brothers and the fact that Selene had been erroneously linked with Scott only a few months before. While a few pictures of them together had made their way into the press already, they had just laughed about them and brushed them off, so she had no reason to think that any others wouldn’t be treated the same way. But Scott’s reaction, and their current conversation, suggested that she’d been mistaken about that and was going to have to think quickly.

“I’ll be honest, I hadn’t really given this a lot of thought yet,” Cat admitted, breaking the silence. “My instinct is to say nothing because it really isn’t any of their business, but I don’t know if that’ll make life harder in the long run.”

“Well, in my experience, when the press think that there’s a story, they’ll pick at it until it’s either confirmed or denied,” he replied with a sneer of disdain. “I don’t particularly like my private life being splashed across the papers, but if it comes to it, I don’t have any issues with putting a statement out confirming that we’re dating in the hopes that you’ll be left alone if we take away the mystery before it even arises.”

“Wow,” Cat breathed, her heart skipping a beat at the realisation that he was prepared to sacrifice some of his fiercely guarded privacy to shield her from the press. “I didn’t think you’d ever want to do that.”

“Of course I would; I love you,” Scott declared, stopping to pull her into him for a kiss, amazed that she could possibly think that he wouldn’t do anything to make sure that she was protected. “I don’t have any issues with telling the world if it means you’re not hounded for a story. I’m just worried that if we don’t say anything, you’ll end up being the prime target for them because you’re much more accessible than I am, so really, it’s your decision. We both need to be happy with what we do but I think it’s only right to be led by you here.”

“I just don’t know,” Cat sighed as they started walking again. “I don’t like the idea of having the press at my door, but if we say something, my concern is that my family will find out and start trying to find a way back into my life because of who you are.”

“Yeah, I can understand that, and given your previous experiences with them, I can’t say I’m surprised you’re worried about that,” Scott sympathised, giving her hand a squeeze of reassurance. “But just remember that if they do start bothering you, you’ve got my full support now and I’ll do everything I can to help in any way that you want.”

“Thank you,” Cat smiled gratefully as they came to a stop at a viewpoint looking out over the Baltic Sea. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

“There's nothing you have to face on your own now, remember that,” Scott reassured her, tucking a stray lock of her hair behind her ear and smiling as she leant into his touch. “The way I see it, we have two options right now. We either put out a press release, confirm that we’re together before the speculation gets too much and deal with whatever consequences come our way from your family, or we say nothing, continue as we are and deal with whatever that brings us in terms of disruption if the press interest becomes too much for you.”

“Yeah,” she sighed, not particularly wanting to make a decision but knowing that she had to. Her privacy was important to her too and not just because of her family, so the thought of the world knowing about her still relatively new relationship made her deeply uncomfortable. Equally, the idea of potentially having the press at her theatre or worse, following her home, didn’t exactly fill her with joy either.

Snuggling into him against the bitingly cold wind, she took a moment just to enjoy the feeling of his arms around her, holding her close and reminding her that they were in this together, regardless of what they decided.

“Neither option sounds great, does it?” she admitted as the silence stretched between them, knowing that the decision was hers alone.

“Not really,” Scott agreed sadly, tightening his arms around her just a little bit more. “Trust me, I wish we didn’t have to deal with this sort of thing but unfortunately it seems to come with the territory.”

“I know,” she replied softly. “I guess I kinda knew we’d have to decide on this at some point. I just didn’t expect it to happen so soon. Or in Russia.”

“Yeah, I have to admit that this wasn’t top of my list of places I thought we’d be when we had to have this conversation,” Scott laughed.

“Right,” Cat declared, straightening up in a way that told Scott a decision had been made, causing him to release her from his arms. “I say that we just let the press stew. We’ve done perfectly well without confirming anything so far, and I sort of feel that as soon as you tell the world about something, you start to get expectations put on you about it and I don’t know about you, but I cannot be fucked dealing with that shit.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Scott smiled, leaning over to press a soft kiss on her head as they leant on a railing next to each other, looking out to sea.

“It’s a deal then,” Cat declared with an emphatic nod. “Let's get on with our lives and if people want to speculate, then that’s up to them. We don’t even know what’s going to happen if those pictures get published and obviously if the situation changes then we can revisit it, but I think for the moment at least, we’re better off not saying anything.”

“That sounds like an excellent plan,” he agreed, slinging an arm around her shoulder and pulling her close as she shivered slightly. “Shall we head back now?”

“Yeah,” Cat agreed readily. “It’s bloody freezing, isn’t it?”

“It really is,” he laughed, offering her his arm before leading the way back into the maze of pathways.

Walking quietly, Cat found that now the mood had lifted, she was much more aware of her surroundings. The part of the gardens by the sea was exquisite and she found herself dawdling, slowing Scott’s stride as she took in all the floral arrangements surrounding an ornate building that Scott informed her was in fact Peter the Great’s summer house, pointing out ones to him that particularly took her fancy.

A persistent chime coming from Scott’s wrist broke their conversation, taking her by surprise and his face, when she glanced up before he answered it, suggested that he was not the only one unhappy about the unwelcome intrusion into their day.

“What is it, John?” he answered smoothly, turning away from Cat as he did his best to hide his displeasure.

“I’m afraid we have a situation,” John informed him. “Four climbers trapped in the Southern Alps. Virgil and Gordon are coming to get you in Two.”

“Can’t they handle it themselves?” Scott asked. “I’m on leave and even if I wasn’t, I’m not exactly on the way.”

“I know and I’m sorry,” John sighed, his displeasure at the task that had befallen him apparent. “I’ve already checked, but Dad - “

“Gotcha,” Scott growled before John could finish. “I’ll be waiting when they get here.”

Cutting the call without even waiting for John’s response, Scott turned on his heel and began to stalk back towards the entrance to the gardens, leaving Cat to scurry along behind him.

Gone was the relaxed attitude of a few moments before and as Cat hurried to keep pace, she took in the firm set of his jaw and the way his eyebrows gathered together. She was at a loss as to his response to John’s call. It wasn’t out of the ordinary for leave to be cut short or cancelled at the last moment because of a rescue, and his reluctance to jump into action was very out of character.

The more she thought about it, the more she realised that John’s demeanour on the call had been strange too. It wasn’t the first time that he had called to report a rescue while Scott had technically been on leave but from what little she had seen, there seemed to be a tension there that she’d never been aware of in the past.

“Sorry about this,” Scott started as they reached the car park and found space large enough for Two to land, helped by the late hour and the fact that the majority of tourists had left for the day.

“You don’t need to apologise,” Cat reassured him, taking his hand in her own and giving it a squeeze as she scanned his face for clues. “It’s not the first time this has happened, and I very much doubt it’ll be the last.”

“I know,” Scott sighed, seeming to deflate a little as he stood. “It’s just really frustrating that’s all.”

“You sure that’s all that’s bothering you?” Cat pushed, no more convinced by Scott’s words than he was.

“I sure am,” Scott replied, the forced jollity in his tone grating with the tension radiating off him as he forced a smile.

“Fair enough,” Cat agreed, knowing better than to push him.

Getting Scott to talk was a delicate operation when he didn’t want to, and when he was still in the first phase of being angry or upset it was well-nigh impossible. Experience had taught her that giving him some time to process things by himself was essential and forcing the issue at this early stage would be counterproductive in the long run, making him defensive and less likely to talk even when he had calmed down, so she let it lie.

“How long do you think we’ve got before you’re picked up?” she asked, changing the subject as best she could. “Do you think we’ve got time for a walk around the Upper Gardens before they arrive?”

“I reckon so,” Scott smiled, feeling the tension easing just a little as he realised that there wasn’t any immediate need to leave. Even his usual form of transport would take a little time to get to him, and by his calculations, they should have almost an hour before he was needed. “Anyway, it’s not like we won’t see them coming.”

Cat smiled as they turned back into the gardens once more, glad that he seemed to be making the best of the situation, despite his initial reaction. Whatever was going on, she intended to get to the bottom of it, but for now, she was going to make damn sure that they enjoyed the last little bit of time they had before duty took him away again.

-x-

Letting the door swing shut behind her, Cat crossed the room and flopped onto the bed, letting her bag and keycard fall beside her as she sank slowly into the soft mattress. It wasn’t exactly the way she’d expected to return to the hotel when she’d left that morning, and she eyed the bottle of champagne that she’d ordered accusingly, as if it was responsible for her lack of company, her mind whirling as she tried to piece together the events that had brought her here.

It wasn’t the first time they had been forced to change plans because of a rescue, but it was the first time that Scott had seemed genuinely angry about it. There had always been a quiet acceptance that it was part and parcel of what he did and while it had been a blow, he had never seemed as angry as he had been when the call came through that afternoon. The way he’d cut John off and then cancelled the call without waiting for a reply had made her wonder whether there was something going on that she wasn’t privy to, and it was fast becoming a nagging doubt that her mind wouldn’t let go of.

All her instincts told her that something to do with his dad held the key to the mystery, but she had no idea what it could be. They had promised to be completely open and honest with each other and until now, Scott had never given any hint that there was anything that he was keeping from her so she hadn’t had any indication that something might be amiss.

As she started thinking back however, she realised that there had been a steady decline in the amount of times that he had mentioned Jeff over the past months, aside from brief updates about his health. When he was first back on Earth, a large portion of their conversations had focussed on how he was and Scott’s hopes for his recovery, but they had steadily lessened over time and now it seemed that he barely featured. It seemed to have happened so subtly in the six months since his rescue that she hadn’t even noticed it at the time, but given the afternoons’ events, she found herself wondering if it was more than just the natural waning of interest in a well discussed subject.

With a start, she realised that Scott never brought him up any more, and a sudden chill ran through her at the thought that when she asked after him, he had started giving the briefest of answers before rapidly changing the subject. Given his desperation to get their father home again and the risks they had all taken in doing so, it now struck her as strange that he was not the centre of more of their discussions. Aside from this, there was nothing to suggest that anything was amiss and Cat found herself desperately hoping that her instincts were incorrect, but no matter how she dressed it up, Scott’s reaction to John mentioning him seemed out of character and spoke of some underlying issue that she wasn’t aware of.

Unable to lie still any longer, she hauled herself up, pulling her phone out of her bag and dropping it on the bed before quickly tidying the rest of her belongings away in the wardrobe. It wasn’t in her nature to be fastidiously neat but she knew how much her messiness irritated him and, while Scott had never made her feel bad about it or like she had to change for him, she wanted to make sure he had a nice, tidy room to come back to when he returned.

Finding that the movement was calming her mind, she allowed herself a few moments to stretch out her legs which were beginning to protest a little after a full day of rehearsals followed by the long walk around the gardens of the Peterhof. She knew they would be absolutely fine in the morning regardless of what she did, but the familiar stretches soothed her and gave her the thinking space to decide what to do next.

Her stomach rumbling alerted her to a more immediate need to order some food. Dinner reservations had already been missed so she quickly grabbed the room service menu and ordered herself some pasta for a quick energy fix, trying to not feel too regretful of the beef stroganoff that she desperately wanted but knew would leave her too bloated and uncomfortable for her performance the next day.

She had no idea how long Scott was likely to be. Although she very much hoped it would be a simple rescue, she was thankful that at least he had another keycard to the hotel room from when he had dropped off his bags before they met so there was no need for her to stay up until he got back. With nothing to do but wait for both her dinner and her boyfriend, she grabbed her phone and perched herself on the small seat in the window, idly watching the cars go by as she scrolled through her contacts until she found the one she needed.

“Catriona, what a lovely surprise,” Penelope answered, her voice sounding strangely tinny through the phone speaker. “I wasn’t expecting to hear from you.”

“Oh, charming,” Cat laughed. “Can’t a girl even give her best friend a call with no warning these days?”

“I just meant that I thought Scott was with you this weekend,” Penny huffed, though Cat could hear the smile in her voice.

“He is,” Cat confirmed. “Well, he was. He’s been called out on a rescue.”

“So you thought you’d call me to pass the time?” Penny queried.

“Something like that, yeah,” Cat agreed, finding herself annoyingly at a loss for words, her worry about the outcome suddenly outweighing her desire to ask Penny’s opinion.

“Well, you've caught me at a good time. I’m just on my way to dinner with the Swedish ambassador.”

“Ooh, that sounds fancy,” Cat cooed. “Are you in the car just now? And am I on speaker?”

“I certainly am, and yes, you are now,” Penny confirmed after a small pause, bracing herself for what she knew was coming.

“Hi, Parker,” yelled Cat, hoping that her friend had taken the phone far enough from her ear to avoid being deafened.

“Hello, Miss Catriona,” Parker replied without missing a beat, quite used to Cat’s tradition of greeting him as he was driving, one that had started when the girls were at school together.

“Now that you’ve got that out of the way,” Penny continued seamlessly, changing the phone back to its more private setting, “how are the rehearsals going?”

“Yeah, they’ve been fine, thanks,” Cat confirmed. “No matter how many lessons I got from John, my Russian is still pretty much non-existent but everyone speaks good English so it’s not been too bad.”

“Well, that’s good,” Penny replied. “And are you all set for tomorrow?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. The stage is massive though and the rake on it is more than anything I’ve ever danced on before so it’s a bit daunting. I don’t want to travel so far downstage during the fouette’s that I fall into the orchestra pit.”

“Yes, I can imagine that being a concern,” Penny soothed. “I’m sure you’ll be wonderful as always.”

“I hope so…” Cat tailed off, the weight of expectations for the following night weighing on her in a way that they hadn’t until now.

Admitting her fears made it feel like a lot to handle. Dancing Swan Lake with the company that it had originally been created on nearly 200 years before was scary enough, without the added stress of worrying about whatever was going on with Scott. She’d very much hoped for a relaxed evening that night, but it clearly wasn’t going to be on the cards.

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked when the silence stretched out between them. It wasn’t like Cat to sound so overwhelmed, and worry spiked through her.

“Nothing,” Cat sighed. “I just… Do you know if everything’s OK on the Island?”

“As far as I know,” Penny replied, her interest piqued. “Why do you ask?”

“I don’t really know. Scott just seemed really tired and he wasn’t at all happy about being called out, which is really unlike him,” Cat replied, the words tumbling out now that she had opened the dam.

“I’m sure he was just disappointed to have to leave you,” Penny soothed. “And as far as him being tired goes, he’s probably just been burning the candle at both ends again. You know what he’s like.”

“That’s what he said but I just don’t know,” Cat sighed, rubbing her face with her free hand. “Something just doesn’t seem quite right.”

“I could always ask Gordon or see if I can find anything for you if you’re worried?” Penny asked, keen to do whatever she could to help out.

“No, no it’s OK. I don’t want to go snooping.” Cat squeaked, instantly regretting her choice to involve her friend. “Scott’ll tell me when he’s ready if there’s anything going on. I shouldn’t have asked. Sorry.”

“OK, well it’s your decision,” Penny replied smoothly. “The offer is always there if you want.”

“Thanks, but I couldn't invade his privacy like that,” Cat declared, already feeling uneasy about involving Penny in something that she was now sure Scott would rather be kept private.

“Yes, it might not be very popular,” agreed Penny.

“Anyway, how’re you?” Cat asked, rapidly changing the subject now that she was convinced that there wasn’t anything obvious going on that she’d missed. “How was that thing you and Gordon went to the other week?”

“Oh, the Governor’s garden party? Yes, it was lovely,” Penny confirmed, a hint of frustration in her voice making Cat instantly wary, even before she elaborated on the event. “Gordon though… well, you can’t take that boy anywhere.”

“Uh oh, what did he do?” Cat asked, moving away from the window and settling herself in a chair, feeling the need to be comfortable while she dealt with whatever complaints were heading her way.

This wasn’t the first time that Gordon’s natural exuberance had caused Penny to air her grievances about his behaviour after an event, but if she was honest, Cat had only occasionally felt that they were justified. The few events of this type that she had been forced to attend had been painfully boring and very restrictive in what was acceptable and her sympathies almost always lay with the aquanaut. However, her loyalty to her friend ran deep and so she felt she needed to be there to support and help in any way she could.

“Well, firstly, he wandered off while I was talking to the Governor's wife and was nowhere to be seen,” Penny began, her clipped tone making Cat wince slightly, her anger apparent. “And then when I did find him, he was in a corner of the grounds, playing what looked like rounders with some of the children.”

“And this was bad because…?” Cat asked, genuinely unsure as to why Penny was so upset about it.

“Because everyone knew he was with me and it is not how one is supposed to behave at these sorts of things,” Penny huffed. “There were lots of very important people there and I heard a good number of them making comments about it. There were chaperones employed to occupy the children so there was no need for him to be involved.”

“OK, I understand why that might be a bit embarrassing, but it sounds exactly like something Gordon would do,” Cat countered, wanting to challenge her a little.

“He used to act like this as a child,” Penny grumbled, the anger still evident in her voice. “He should have grown up by now. Anyway, it wasn’t just that. I spoke to him about it and he apologised but then he disappeared again and I found him holding a platter of canapes and offering them to people. Apparently, a waitress had fallen and he was ‘just trying to help,’ but that’s what the staff were there for. It’s unheard of for a guest to behave in such a manner.”

Cat sighed. She could see where Penny was coming from and why Gordon’s actions would have been embarrassing to her at the time, but that didn’t mean that it was the disaster that she was making it out to be. Getting her to admit she was overreacting was a delicate task, but she had time on her hands and she felt like she owed it to Gordon to at least try.

“Admittedly I don’t know him as well as you do,” she began cautiously, picking her words carefully, “but again, that sounds like something that’s absolutely in character for him. I know for a fact that Scott would too if it had been him that was there.” “In normal circumstances, yes, helping someone who has fallen is admirable,” Penny agreed, a concession that Cat was surprised she had made so quickly. “But you know how stuffy these events are. I don’t like some of it any more than I’m sure Gordon does, but it’s what is expected and you need to play a part to fit in. My standing depends on it and I simply cannot be shown up like that by my guests.”

“I know,” soothed Cat. “But remember, all of the boys save people for a living so it’s basically instinct for them now. Gordon probably just saw someone in need and went to do whatever he could to help her.”

“I know, but I just need him to think a bit more about where we are and the image he’s projecting,” Penny sniffed, the anger slowly leaving her voice.

“I understand that, but just don’t go nagging him too much, OK?” Cat warned. “Just remember that it was his attitude of making the most of every opportunity and grabbing life with both hands that was one of the things that made you fall in love with him in the first place. I know you’re pissed off just now, but you can’t just expect him to turn that off when it doesn’t suit you.”

Silence stretched between the friends as Cat’s words hit home. Ordinarily, she would have tried to fill the gap, offering more advice or sympathy for how Penny was feeling but she was suddenly worn out. She’d lost track of the number of times she’d had conversations just like this one with Penny over the years, her boyfriends never quite living up to her exacting standards.

“I know,” Penny finally replied, her voice unnaturally quiet. “Anyway,” she added, sounding much more like herself, “his heart was in the right place and I suppose that’s the most important thing, not what everyone else thinks.” “I think you’re right there,” Cat agreed, her energy lifting now that Penny seemed to have accepted her words. “Nobody's perfect, but you’ve got a good one with a heart of gold and ultimately that’s who you fell in love with.”

“It certainly is,” Penny agreed. “Anyway, darling, I’m just about to arrive so I need to go.”

“No worries,” Cat smiled. “My dinner should be here soon anyway so I’d better head off too. Have a fun evening.”

“I’m not sure I’d call it fun but I’m sure it will be fine,” Penny laughed, the smile back in her voice again now that they were on more neutral topics. “Best of luck tomorrow, not that you’ll need it. Goodbye.”

“Byeeee,” Cat sang cheerily, hanging up the call as she crossed back to her perch in the window.

Looking down idly once more at the cars speeding past on the street below, Cat let her mind wander back over the conversation with Penny. It definitely didn’t seem to her like Gordon had made any massive mistakes, and even Penny herself had admitted that she didn’t always agree with the expected behaviour at the events she was so often called upon to attend.

Having been in attendance at some of these events herself in the past, she had first-hand experience of the rigidity of the class division between guests and staff. She had always found it laughable and so her sympathies were firmly with Gordon for acting as he had, especially in regard to the waitress. In any other circumstances, Penny would have been commending his behaviour, so she knew that her friend's anger had come from embarrassment caused by the situation rather than any real judgement on his actions.

Cat sighed, hoping that Penny would allow Gordon the time to mellow into the experience of attending high society events and not become too overbearing in her desire to help him fit in. Even though her concern always came from a place of generosity, Cat had found to her cost that it was sometimes misplaced and unwanted and she was well aware of how hard it could be not to get swept along with her, although she had a sneaking suspicion that Gordon might stand a better chance at avoiding it than most.

Quickly shrugging away unwelcome memories of her own painful experience of being on the receiving end of Penny’s help, she checked the time on her phone, wondering where her dinner was as her stomach let out another loud grumble of protest. No reassuring message from Scott telling her that he was on his way back was yet forthcoming either she noted, so she figured she probably had at least another hour or so before he was back too, depending on the complexity of the rescue.

She had to admit that she felt a little calmer than she had before now that she knew Penny wasn’t aware of anything that could be causing issues on the island. Aside from her obvious concern that Scott was unhappy, the fact that John seemed to share his anger had made her worry that her physical distance from the family meant that she had missed a more general issue and hadn’t been a support to him when he had needed her.

It was clear to her now that the issue was perhaps more limited to Scott and possibly John as she was sure that if Gordon was directly involved, then Penny would have known about it too. A little twinge of guilt spiked through her at the thought that she might have given Penny a hint of something that he might have rather be kept private but she shot it down quickly, reminding herself that she had only asked in the most general sense, not mentioning anything to do with her own suspicions as to the cause of his earlier anger.

A sharp knock at the door shook her out of her musings and sent her scurrying across the room to retrieve her dinner, having to stop herself from grabbing it from the bemused looking porter on the other side. Her stomach growled at the delicious smells radiating from the plate in front of her as she settled herself down at the small table and tucked in, but her troubled mind continued to whirl. All of her instincts were screaming at her that something was going on so, with a sigh, she grabbed her phone and scrolled through to find the number she needed. Placing it down, she drummed her fingers on the table as she listened to the rings until finally it was answered.

“Hiya Tippytoes!” sang the voice on the other end.

“Selene? Can I ask you something?”

#Scott Tracy #Catriona George #Penelope Creighton Ward #thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds fanfiction #thunderbirds 2015

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fixmyfeathers · 3 years

Text

[10.39pm -iwaizumi hajime]

An earthy, woody scent hung in the air. Warm, soothing water engulfed your body; small droplets of the transparent liquid running down the naked skin. They reminded one of tears. Tears that fall down the sky when heaven cries. At some point the sun appears again, with a small happy rainbow, as it shines as bright as ever. It’s almost like a promise that every gloomy, downcast, heartbroken moment will pass by.

Eventually, the sun kisses goodnight to the sky - it lets the moon glimmer at night, it chases dreams while demanding rest and peace.

Just like right now.

It was late; a sliver of moonlight spilled into the room. The pearl-shaped tears from the sky looked pale under the watery white-silver glow of the moon. You didn’t hear the door crack open as familiar emerald orbs peered into the bathroom.

No words were exchanged, small smiles graced both of your faces as he entered the room. He undressed himself; his movements were slow and his steps heavy - a sign that he had an awfully stressful day yet again (seriously, Oikawa was an angel compared to those idiots). You scooted forward, so much so that he could easily sit behind you, which he did mere seconds later.

Strong arms embraced your middle; legs on either side of yours, his muscled chest pressed against your back as he tightened his hold around you, letting his forehead drop on your shoulder. Leaning into him, you ran your fingers through his hair, mouth curving into a smile when a sigh left his lips. The warmth that was emitting from him was all too familiar, so intimate, so home.

He lifted his head from your shoulder, his lips brushed against the skin, leaving little kisses there. One hand loosened its hold around you, fingers running up and down your thigh now, while the other one was still tightly wrapped around you - refusing to let go.

“I missed you.”

His voice was low and husky (probably from all the scolding he had to do) and whispered into your neck as he decided to nuzzle into it. Starting to tell you about his day, you closed your eyes, humming every now and then to signal that you were listening. Every word that left his lips (the way his chest rumbled against your back while saying them in this low tone was just downright beautiful) and every breath that touched your skin sent tingles down your spine. His day was, as expected, stressful, annoying and “-shit, I couldn’t stop thinking about coming home. To you.”

At one point, he mentioned the woody scent that hung in the air. Looking over your shoulder, you told him, with a soft smile, that it reminded you of him - and then he was blushing in the color your love gave him.

Sometime later - after a few shared kisses, fingers that didn’t stop drawing lazy circles on your thigh (or whichever part of your body Hajime could reach, for that matter) and ´I love you´s´ whispered into your skin - the water started getting cold and the skin on your fingers and toes became wrinkly. He tightened his hold around you one last time before gently scooting you forward, pecking the back of your neck and eventually getting out of the bathtub; with you following closely after. He wrapped a towel around his lower region, holding one out for you to take as well. The mirror was slightly foggy, you realised after drying yourself off and slipping into your night clothes (which consisted of one of Hajime´s shirt and shorts). Said man appeared mere seconds later behind you, dressed only in boxers, as his fingers began holding your sides - twitching at the sight in front of him: skin still littered with small droplets of water, hair messy and slightly wet, skin flushed and shrivelled up. You looked so beautiful in that moment; he couldn't stop staring at you.

“Stop looking at me like that.”

Your voice was barely above a whisper as shyness overcame your body. You shoved his face lightly to the side, hoping that it would stop its glowing. He chuckled, closing his eyes for just a second before locking his olive green-orbs with yours through the mirror again.

“Let's go to bed.”

You could feel the vibration of his words on you before he squeezed your sides and left a kissed on your cheek - presumably making his way to the bedroom now. There, he lied on his side of the bed; he welcomed you as he lifted the blanket, opening his arms for you to cuddle into him. And you did just that: embracing him, enjoying his natural heat. One leg around his middle, you nuzzled your head into his neck, sighing in content when you could smell the reassuring woody scent that clung to him, and started drawing lazy circles on his bare chest. Hajime kissed the top of your head and let his fingers run up and down your arm.

“Can you ... can you promise me one thing?” He whispered, his voice low and uneven as his hold around you tightened.

“Hmm? Sure, anything.”

“Promise me you'll come back tomorrow.” The seriousness that laced his voice made you look up at him from your place on his chest. His brows were knitted, eyes glossy and jaw clenched.

“Haji, what are you talking about?”

“Just ... just promise me.” He insisted, as you slowly sat up to face him directly. He held himself up on his forearms, staring expectedly at you.

“Of course, I'll come back to you. I always will.”

He smiled; so beautifully that it took your breath away. It held a hint of relief, a small sigh left his lips as well as he brought you closer to him again, holding you against him.

“I love you so much. Please don’t leave me.” He said, arms tightening around you, clutching onto you so strong as if you might slip away, as few droplets of tears ran down his face.

And then you woke up. You tried to fight back the tears that threatened to spill over. Nighttime, meeting him again, couldn't come sooner.

“Love brings many things, sometimes even pain.”

#Iwaizumi Hajime #iwaizumi hajime x reader #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu iwaizumi #iwaizumi imagine #iwaizumi x y/n #iwaizumi oneshot #hq x reader #hq iwaizumi #haikyuu!!#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x y/n #anime fluff #anime x reader #x reader #fluff #haikyuu fluff

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unfunny-quips · 4 years

Text

Snippet from my (other) overly complicated Akeshu Time Loop fic where everyone except Akira (mostly) remembers the previous year:

Akechi Goro’s apartment was nothing like what Ann had expected it to be. Though admittedly her imagination had been a bit conflicted on what she should expect.

The shiny, polite Ace Detective facade he showed the world suggested she should expect a living space ripped straight out of a designer magazine. Attractive but stiff, nice to look at but difficult to actually live in let alone be comfortable in when visiting.

On the other hand, what she’d seen of his other side - the feral, blood thirsty and thoroughly nasty Black Mask - made her think of a dungeon like space. Chains on the walls, maybe one of those disturbing cluttered spaces shown on crime dramas when the heroes were hunting a serial killer. Pictures with blacked out eyes pinned to the walls, red string connecting disparate and terrifying thoughts and images, a collection of weapons on display.

What she got was…neither of those.

Shiho led her down the kind of pleasant residential area that put Ann in mind of the best kind of summers as a kid. A big park, open friendly faces, a community that seemed friendly and kind to each other. Shiho smiled and waved to a number of people on their way, the few they stopped to chat with for a bit telling her to give their hellos on to Akechi before letting them continue.

The apartment itself was the converted guest house in the back garden of what looked to be a cheerful family home. Ann counted no less than three fat cats lazing about and when they approached a delightfully plump old woman seated in a rocking chair on the front porch sat up from her reading to say hello and welcome Ann. Shiho called her Obaasan and rushed to give her a hug like she really was Shiho’s beloved grandmother before the old woman ushered them down the side path towards the back of the house.

“That’s Goro’s landlady, Shibata-San,” Shiho said as they walked the narrow path that led along the side of the house and through a truly beautiful garden. “She’s super sweet but has trouble with her arthritis sometimes. She gives Goro a deal on the rent since he helps her out so much around the house and with her gardening.”

Akechi Goro being nice to little old ladies. Ann wasn’t certain if that was exactly what she expected from the deranged killer pretending to be a charming teen detective or something so far out of the realm of expected as to be laughable. She chose to make a polite hmm noise of interest instead, not wanting to break the good mood Shiho was in by bringing up how very much Ann hated Akechi. She was rewarded by Shiho smiling warmly at her, which was really all the shorter girl would need to do to convince Ann to murder someone in Shiho’s name.

Shiho knocked at the door and Ann took a final calming breath to prepare her for the night that lay ahead of her. It was just a few hours, and she’d be there with Shiho and there would be plenty of other people to help buffer her from Akechi and Akira. Ann had helped shoot a god in the face once, she was ready for anything Akechi might throw at her over a few hours of talking about a book.

She wasn’t even close to ready, as it turned out.

The realization settled in the moment the door opened to reveal a yawning Akechi standing before her with messy hair and Featherman themed pajamas. Rumpled and clearly well worn Featherman pajamas.

Ann felt her eyes widen comically at the sight of the boy that had once been her and her team’s arch nemesis. A known and dangerous killer who had taken countless lives in the name of his twisted revenge scheme.

He was wearing adorable unicorn slippers. Their horns were rainbow.

“Ah, Shiho!” Akechi said through his yawn, face stretching into a warm smile as he spotted the shorter girl on the other side of the threshold. “Just in time, I need help hauling Akira’s dead weight to the bedroom.” Ann watched him scratch lazily at his chin before blinking his attention over to her and offered another smile. It was a brittle, plastic thing in comparison to the honest warmth he’d offered the shorter girl. All polish and teeth, no actual emotion. “And Takamaki-San, I’m so glad you could join us for the evening.”

He looked anything but, especially with the white knuckled grip he had on the door handle.

Ann offered a strained smile of her own. She’d made a promise to Shiho damnit and she’d see it through if it killed her. Or if Akechi killed her. Whatever. The point was that she was going to try damnit.

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world!” She said as Akechi stepped back to allow them inside. Shiho gave a faint wince at the overly perky tone Ann had and shoot she’d overshot the enthusiasm a bit. Oh well. Better to be too excited than not enough. She followed Shiho’s lead in taking her shoes off and slipping on a pair of house slippers before turning her attention to the apartment itself.

It was…surprisingly cozy.

Ann was surprised too by the amount of clutter taking up the apartment. A laundry basket of half-folded, clean clothes sitting next to the couch, a knocked over bag tossed on a side table by the front door, more pillows and blankets than Ann would have expected making it seem like a nice place to curl up and read in. The apartment still managed to look tidy despite the half hearted attempt at organization.

Most of the space consisted of a living room with a tiny kitchenette tucked in a corner. There was a small nook beside the cooking area likely meant for dining. The small table placed there was taken over by a nice looking chess set, leaving no room for any actual dining. A small blackboard hung on the wall beside it, tallying victories of each player - tied, from what Ann could see, between Akechi and Kurusu. Other than that there were a couple doors leading to what she presumed to be a bedroom and a bathroom.

It looked so remarkably normal.

Hardwood floors, plush rugs thrown everywhere, overstuffed bookshelves, pictures on the wall. There was a larger one hung over the couch showing off the entire book club smiling brightly at what looked like a cat cafe. Shiho, Akechi, Kurusu, Yoshizawa, even Togo Hifumi and Iwai’s son Kaoru. All of them squeezed together to fit, hands up in peace signs or giving each other bunny ears.

They looked normal. Just kids hanging out, enjoying each other’s company and reading books. It was hard to reconcile the photo with the mental image Ann had of several of the members as potential agents of Yaldabaoth.

Seeing how happy Shiho looked in the pictures didn’t help.

Ann pushed the thoughts away as best she could and followed other two to where a half asleep Akira was laid sprawled half under a large kotatsu. The delinquent had his head thrown back on the couch behind him, one of the many throw pillows Akechi apparently owned curled in his arms. She was surprised to see his usual oversized glasses he so often hid behind tossed haphazardly on the kotatsu. His eyes were closed, but he cracked one open when he heard them come over.

“M’fine here.” He muttered, curling up further around his pillow.

Akechi rolled his eyes.

“There is a bed literally right there.” he pointed at one of the two closed doors for emphasis, mere steps away. Akira was already turning away and wiggling further beneath the kotatsu blanket. “Just go to bed Akira, no one else is even going to be here for another hour at least.”

Ann blinked. “What?” She turned from the drowsy Akira to Shiho, the shorter girl giving an unapologetic, challenging smile.

“Goro said we could come over early so you could get settled in!” Shiho said, chipper and all too aware of the fact that Ann had been banking on keeping her attention on other people in order to ignore Akechi. She really shouldn’t have been surprised. Shiho really did know her too well.

Akechi offered another brittle smile before turning his attention back to Akira, his expression softening again. Ann watched as the detective attempted to scoop the dark haired boy up, only for Akira to slip out of his grasp by going boneless, earning an undignified swear from the detective.

Ann watched as the detective attempted to drag the delinquent away by an arm, amused as Shiho strolled over casually and hauled Akira up over her shoulder - pillow and all - in a fireman’s hold. She did it with such ease that Ann was a left little breathless at the show of strength. Akira wasn’t heavy by any measure but he was tall and she’d seen him working out at the gym the one time she went with Ryuji. The boy had muscle and that couldn’t be light. It didn’t matter to the short girl and her exceptional strength and well… Ann was weak to Shiho in so very many ways.

A few minutes later Akira had been safely stowed in a proper bed, the faint sound of soft snores heard from the dark haired delinquent before Shiho had even made it through the door. Which just left the three of them standing awkwardly in the living room.

Joy.

“I’m not nearly as good as Akira or Boss,” Akechi began, “But I can make a passable cup of coffee with what I’ve got here. Would you like one?”

There was a very real chance he might poison it. Ann nodded anyway to appease Shiho, resigned to the fact that she really was willing to do anything to see the shorter girl smile.

Akechi shuffled towards the kitchenette in his ridiculous fluffy unicorn slippers and began fussing with the various coffee supplies that took up almost all of his very limited counter space. He was even nice enough to pull out a container of some cookies - a favorite brand of Ann’s on top of it - that hadn’t even been opened yet from a cupboard. She felt secure in the knowledge that those at least hadn’t been tampered with as she began happily devouring them.

“He’s still refusing to move in?” Shiho asked Akechi softly as she settled on the plush loveseat adjacent to the couch, tugging Ann down beside her. The dark haired girl pulled her feet up and under her, Shiho’s expression turning concerned as she watched Akechi work.

Akechi gave a soft sigh as he began boiling some water for the coffee. “He’s just so damn stubborn.” The detective said, shoulder’s drooping as he measured the freshly ground coffee out. “That place is killing him, but every time I bring it up he digs his heels in.”

Shiho gave a soft sigh before turning her attention to Ann to explain. “Akira is…” She paused, frowning, “His living situation is…bad.” Ann flicked her attention to Akechi as she heard him mutter a faint fucking understatement of the year under his breath. “Goro has offered to let him stay here but Akira’s worried that his record would hurt Goro’s reputation.”

“Oh,” Ann said, turning her attention on the delicate chocolate dipped cookie she held. Akira’s criminal record, that had been made public and well known by Mishima at Komashida’s request. Because Akira had stepped in and kept the teacher from getting to Shiho. Something Ann should have done. “Isn’t there something he can do? He’s staying with a guardian right? Couldn’t he just request to be moved under someone else?”

Akechi snorted bitterly. “Great idea, so that scam artist can report him as being “dangerous” and get him sent back to Juvie?” Red eyes turned to Ann, pinning her in place as Akechi’s mouth twisted into a sour frown. “You know about shitty adults. You know there really aren’t options like that for people in Akira’s position.”

Ann was struck again by the strange clash between what she expected from Akechi from the last run of the game and what he was showing her in this one.

A facade of niceties for the camera, a howling soul of insanity for anyone who got in his way. Where, exactly, between those two extremes lay concern for a friend in a difficult position? Where did friends lay in that mess at all? Where did the cozy apartment, helping out an arthritic old lady, the weekly book club, the Featherman pajamas? Was there a graph somewhere that might map it all out? Or was she just supposed to guess at what was a real glimpse at the boy that had once murdered her friend’s father and what was an act to get what he wanted?

“Here,” Akechi said, and for a moment she half expected him to hand her the answers she wanted. He didn’t, of course, instead handing her a cup of coffee resting on a matching saucer. Both cup and saucer had cute chubby cats on them. “Cream? Sugar?”

She blinked and nodded, watching as he turned on his heel to get her what she asked for. Shiho beside her shifted where she sat, butting their shoulders together gently. Her face, when Ann met her gaze, was thoughtful. Considering Ann as if she was the puzzle and not the serial killer juggling a carton of cream and an oversized container of sugar across the room. Trying to stow her apprehension away for the night, Ann offered her friend the best honest expression she could while knowing how many lies she’d given the shorter girl over the past months.

Shiho’s expression shifted slowly, the look in her dark eyes difficult to read. Ann watched as the other girl turned to sip at her coffee. Shiho didn’t even wait for it to cool. She always liked her drinks hot enough to scald.

“You know, maybe it’s the way you’re asking.” Shiho said, the complicated emotions Ann glimpsed the moment before shuffled away as the dark haired girl turned a devious smile on Akechi.

The detective looked weary and wary all at once. “Shiho…” His tone had something like a weak warning to it, though the bite Ann was used to hearing from him was absent.

“I’m just saying,” Shigo said, looking delighted, “You’re asking him to move in with you as a friend.”

“Don’t.” Akechi said, it might have been sharp and snapping if it wasn’t for the color rising high on the boy’s cheeks. Ann blinked in bewilderment. Was Akechi Goro blushing?

“Just ask him to be your boyfriend already!” Shiho said, all cheer and delight with an undercurrent of something challenging directed at the now definitely blushing Akechi. “We all saw you two kiss at the ice rink! It’s not like the thing between you it’s a secret!”

Ann choked on the cookie she’d just popped into her mouth. Akechi - so red that Ann was fairly certain he was going to turn purple soon - made a high pitched squeak and buried his face in his hands.

Well that put a new light on things.

“You kissed Kurusu?!” Cookies crumbs went flying as she spoke but Ann didn’t care. The news was just too big to be taken in calmly. Makoto had suspected that Kurusu, a known criminal, was a pawn in Akechi’s devious plan and the rest of the group had been thinking the same. Morgana suggested that the dark haired boy might even be the new player they’d been warned about.

At no point at any of them considered Akechi could be so human as to simply just like Kurusu.

“It’s not that - you’re taking things out of context!” Akechi almost wailed, not a psychopath ready to kill at a drop of a hat but an embarrassed teenage boy being teased about his crush.

Shiho laughed, “You two held hands!”

“I didn’t know how to skate! Kurusu was helping me balance!”

“You stayed on the ice during the couple’s song!”

“We just didn’t want to get off the ice!”

“You stopped, in the middle of the rink, looked deep into each other’s eyes while holding hands and kissed.”

As if to drive her point home, Shiho lifted her phone to show a picture - a bit blurry at the edges but clear enough to make out - of Akechi and Kurusu definitely having a sweet, romantic kiss on the ice. Clearly completely oblivious of the world around them as they did so. It was possibly the cutest thing Ann had ever seen.

Any idea Ann ever had of Akechi Goro being intimidating was thrown right out the window.

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kirstinmaldonado · 4 years

Text

CHAPTER TEN 2.0

I had a horrible migraine Monday night. It was one of those that you feel after holding back tears all day, or letting it out all day, it was centered right in-between the eyes on the upper bridge of my nose. My eyes sweltered under discomfort. The icepacks or a cool touch to the head, something my mom would always do (she always has cold hands), couldn’t even console me. I didn’t feel feverish at all, but the pain was sharp and pulsating like a nervous heartbeat, over and over, until I couldn’t concentrate on TV or anything anymore I just had to go to bed and hope I could fall asleep.

I rarely get those kinds of headaches, that placement and severity. I’m usually fortunate to pass with dull, achey, temple headaches; and even my hangovers are never so pointed and jab-like.

My mom on the other hand, has dealt with migraines for years. I remember her pain as a kid, waking up in the morning wondering where she was, only to find her in the dark in her room, barely able to speak sometimes. I was always so sad to see her in such anguish, all alone in the dark. Silent. Still. While her head throbbed as if a brass band was playing “The Music Man” at too loud a decibel.

We watched a lot of horror films, my mom and I. In contrast to all the Disney films, I grew up on Jeepers Creepers, Scream, Final Destination and all the Freddy, Jason, true horror classics (yes, and all seven billion of their sequels). When she would be in bed, in the dark, we’d joke that she was a vampire needing her rest and that she needed to stay in the dark unbothered, and that lightheartedness to the situation made us smile and contented us.

Monday, Ben asked if migraines ran in my family, and though I told him about my mother’s constant battle with them the last couple years I was hoping mine felt more situational as opposed to genetic. Fingers crossed on that, and kudos to mom and those who get migraines for sticking it out cause they can be a big B-I-T-C-H.

I say situational, because it’s been A WEEK to say the least, with big things and confrontations happening in the public eye and in my own private life. The last two weeks have been incredibly eye-opening, painful, uncomfortable, moving, you name it. An entire rainbow of emotions (Happy Pride, by the way, cuties, I haven’t forgotten about you all).

I feel as if I’ve transformed into a new person with big, wide, new eyes, shedding some old skin that felt a little naive and a little out of touch with how the world, not should work, but how it’s REALLY been working. I’ve been talking to my black friends and fans, talking to my Hispanic family and hearing their stories, and talking amongst my friends and respected mentors. I’ve been doing some soul-searching and digging through memories of my own cop experiences (one, for example, at 17 with two white males [we were pulled over and eventually surrounded by 4 armed cop cars that got us out of the car, surrounded us, and wouldn’t tell us why] and wondering but knowing how that situation could have been if they were black), my jokes of being white-washed or assimilating in to white culture and not focusing on my own, and me coloring my hair blonde and wearing colored contacts not MY brown eyes for so much of my life and wondering what the intention of it all was for. Was it genuine or was I doing it to fit in, did I think it made me prettier, or more likable? Did I think or know that it would get me roles, because many ingenues or leading ladies at the time didn’t look like me?

At a point, at multiple points, all the things I’d uncover or watch in recent news had my stomach hard and in knots. Every new clip made me feel like I wanted to throw up, but I couldn’t stop now that I had SEEN.

I was confused. Hurt. Believing what I’d seen, but needing other facts as if I was missing something completely because it all did not make sense to me. How COULD it?

I apologize for all the reposts and rants, but I hope it’s stayed in line with being something you should SEE, regardless of if its uncomfortable or not, so that you KNOW what is happening, while also trying to call action to addressing the issue but moving FORWARD towards a solution. I don’t want violence on my page. But now it’s hard to turn a blind eye.

The organized BLM LA protest on May 30th changed my life. After the speeches, we wanted to continue marching, moving, using our freedom of speech and combining our white, brown, black, and all colors in-between of voices so that we could be ONE VOICE UNITED to be HEARD.

I don’t think I went to the front lines because I was white-passing and felt safer, or because I was a woman so could be “less a threat.” I went because my black allies, who I didn’t even know, asked us to because the front was starting to get unnecessarily violent. I went because I had done nothing wrong and planned on doing nothing wrong. I went, in a way, to be an innocent. Because if I was in the front with no bad intention, the people beside and behind me would be okay.

As we walked through the crowds, their hands on my shoulders, their thanks, flared something visceral deep inside of me and I knew I was here to protect and mediate, and in a way, fighting against hate in whatever form as if I was a newborn Avenger. Someone cried out “I love this, this is what this movement is for!” and that has stayed with me as so many lighter-skinned protesters made their way to the front. Because that IS what this is for. Not to divide, but to unite to fight for justice against those that have unnecessarily been wronged.

I’ll never forget one black man that my friends and I urged to stay back beside us in the lines that had pushed to the front. He was angry. Upset. Hurt. Defiled. I’d never understood the pain the black community felt. But as we tried to reassure him, block him from the batons (from THAT COP), bring him back to the safety of the group, when I was hit in the ribs and the face as collateral because he would have been hit so much worse, the last thing he said as we pulled him back was “I want them to hear me.” And suddenly I felt holding him and consoling him was wrong, like I was a part of stealing his voice from him even though all I wanted was to keep him safe. Suddenly I felt so upset, so angry; although, of course, I’ll never even know HALF of that feeling as a non-black person who, to my knowledge, has never been treated differently for their identity.

I’ll never forget the way he said it. With so much hurt and pain, the anger fading in to just pure anguish and loss.

I felt like I’d silenced someone, so all I could do was get back to the front. It was my turn to be silent and let their voices carry behind me.

I’m sure you’ve seen the video going around, the stillness before the cops were ordered presumably to push the line back. While I can have a whole blog post of levels and steps they could have taken before the cop bashed through my canvas sign with his baton, you can look at the video and see for yourself. People getting hit because they were at the front, with no provocation. The man striking me with a baton, honestly probably because I had said openly to watch out for him, because he was showing a LOT of premature violence, because of how quickly he went after the man we were protecting; yet then only pushing the white girl next to me with his hand, even though she unfortunately was struck multiple times from another officer.

All awful!! All taken a step too far. I’ve never been more in shock. Ben was trying to pull me off the floor so I wouldn’t get stepped on. Our friends were hit by rubber bullets. Our other friends on another street running from tear gas.

The tear gas, the rubber bullets, the bruises and the ache have *I PRAY* started to leave Los Angeles as all the protests have started to become more peaceful and more organized. Since, I’ve been to three and they were all just, beautiful, and moving, each one getting better and bigger as the week went on. I carry a sense of pride and love seeing the aerial footage of all the people Sunday, and I think back to what my May 30 experience was compared to June 7th. I heard it was the largest protest yet. And while I felt like a sardine in a can, it was so packed, it was beautiful and it’s a memory I’ll hold forever!

I sidebar to say, I may no longer be cheering at the literal protesting frontlines with you for a while — I must return to Texas soon for family so must safely quarantine — but know the fight for equality, for justice has not ended just because it’s not trending anymore! I think I’m gonna have to shackle myself to my house so I won’t leave, haha, but know there is so much you can be doing from your home! As my grandma said, after the protests which are the catalysts and the calls for change the REAL reformative work begins!! And the road is long!

The most important thing, in my humble opinion, is to show up. To not be afraid. To ask the questions. To educate yourself through your friends with their experiences or through history.

Humbly, you must think, but what even can I do to help?

Showing up isn’t JUST protesting. It’s signing petitions. Donating to charities. It’s calling local reps. It’s doing the research and thinking, what can I do to lend my voice to help create a better world for all and doing it authentically if even imperfectly because deep down you also want to right these injustices and demand change! Do it in public. Do it in private. But do it because you believe in it!

I know everything feels a bit dark and overwhelming right now! The amount of times I’ve needed a “break” and then wanted to cry because my black friends and fans don’t get the opportunity to take “breaks” is countless. But your mental health is important for you to be the strongest ally you can be!

And if you’re afraid of backlash, understand that many are hurt. I know many feel nervous to speak up in a damned if I do, damned if I don’t kind of way. But EACH of your voices are, and have always been so, so important. And each and every one of you have an important say and CHOICE/VOTE in to where we lead our country!

Someone told me this week that although sunflowers follow the sun, when it is cloudy and dark, they turn to face each other and share their energy!

I don’t know if that’s a million percent scientifically accurate, but the sentiment brought me to tears. In times of darkness, we should all be able to lean on each other for support.

We can all be sunflowers in the dark. <3

Love you all.

#blog 2.0

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radioactivepeasant · 4 years

Text

Fic Prompts: Free Day Thursday

(Full disclosure, this is a chunk of a toshinko fic I wrote a few years ago purely for my own amusement. I may upload it someday, but I haven't decided on that front yet)

She almost turned his offer to escort her home down on the grounds that she was a Nobody and he was going to get swarmed with people asking weird questions.

She didn’t turn him down in the end.

Forever after, neither of them were sure how they’d fallen into discussing personal matters, especially when under normal circumstances neither would be caught dead pouring out their heart to a stranger. Perhaps she’d just needed the catharsis. Perhaps he'd needed the human connection. When they reached her little apartment at last -- at least Hisashi had stayed long enough to help her move -- All Might handed her the umbrella.

“Wh- no I can’t take- what about you?” Inko sputtered.

“Ahaha no worries! I’ll be right as rain!” All Might flashed a peace sign, then broke into muffled giggles. “Wow. That was horrible. I’m so sorry.”

Inko laughed, and All Might jumped away, and that should have been the end of it.

But it wasn’t.

[[MORE]]

A few weeks later Inko found a note taped to her door in the unmistakable handwriting of All Might.

Hoping there have been a few less rainy days in your life lately! :D

There was even a small doodle of an umbrella with his distinctive eyebrows and smile.

After taking an hour or two to get over the sheer shock of All Might remembering her -- let alone where she lived -- Inko found herself sticking the note to her refrigerator.

Second-guessing herself the whole way, Inko taped a note of her own on her door, a short and sweet heartfelt thanks for him going out of his way to make sure she was alright, and listening to her complaining. After a moment’s hesitation, she added a doodle of her own. A rainbow with his smile.

The note stayed on her door for two days and Inko tried not to be disappointed. Logically she knew it was extremely unlikely that a hero of his caliber would even be in her city, let alone on this end of town, and even if he was, he’d be far too busy for social visits. (Why was she expecting All Might to make social visits?!)

On day three the note was gone and something else was in its place.

It wasn’t carefully written on blank paper this time. It was hastily done, as if on the spot, and on the back of what looked like a grocery list. Still, it was fairly obvious who it was from.

It was no trouble at all, please don’t worry about it! Truthfully, it was nice to get to just talk with someone like that. Actually, I don’t get to do that very often! :D

Wishing you and the baby the best! - AM :D :D

Oh lord. The baby. That’s right, she was pregnant. She was literally constructing a human being from scratch!

...okay, it sounded kind of metal when she thought of it like that.

Inko shuffled back inside to make a stiff cup of chamomile and figure out how to organize the very bizarre amount of money Hisashi had sent her. He was as broke as she was, probably, going to that exclusive medical school. But he'd somehow managed to scrape up enough in mismatched bills to cover at least two doctors' visits. And he'd sent a pack of pacifiers?

Bless his heart, but Fujioka Hisashi didn't know much about babies. Inko taped his "sorry I'm an idiot, can we still be friends" note up on the fridge. Then, after a moment's pause, she added the second note from All Might.

Somehow, the notes became a regular thing after that. He started slipping them through the mail slot rather than taping them to the door, which was probably safer in the long run. And she started hiding hers under the mat, in a plastic bag.

She probably could have just sent the notes to his agency, like every other fan, but she worried that it would be lost among the hundreds of thousands of other letters.

Short “how are you” notes became mid-length “fought an umbrella themed villain today and thought of you, how are you?” notes. Sometimes Inko left letters about everything and nothing, talking about how she saw a flower blooming in a place it shouldn’t have been and it looked so hopeful there that she felt like everything was going to be alright. Sometimes she sent a favorite poem.

Once, about two months in, she’d just barely referenced rent and a doctor’s bill coming at the same time and within a week he’d sent her an envelope with a check to cover both. She’d been horribly embarrassed, and there was an awkward tension in the letters for a week or two until they settled the fact that she wasn’t looking for charity and he only wanted to help.

Three months of letters and Inko had begun to feel as though she knew the Symbol of Peace. Actually knew him. Oh, it was just a silly fantasy, of course, it had to be. No doubt he was barely sharing anything about himself, and he probably did this with other fans too. Or at least, she’d thought that until one of his letters questioned a mention of Mitsuki asking why she was happy all the time now and her not knowing how to answer. Hadn’t she told anyone about the letters?

No, actually, I never told anyone, Inko had written back, I’m not sure why. I’m sure this is a normal thing you do, since you’re so kind, but I can’t help worrying that some people will say nasty things about you if they find out you’re penpals with a pregnant lady.

The response had come on the same day, a post-it note on her door in the space between getting off the couch and walking to the door. She’d just missed him, evidently.

Had to run, sorry for shortness, it said, But you’re the only one I write to.

Inko had needed to sit down after that.

The following morning there was a three page letter resting on the floor just under the mail slot. It was handwritten, as all the others had been, and expanded on the post-it note. All Might was writing to say that while he did try to personally answer fanmail, this wasn’t fanmail. This was a correspondence with a friend (at least, he hoped it was, he was pretty sure it was, he wasn’t trying to overstep any boundaries or anything--). That he felt that he’d come to know her as a person in the last three months, that he looked forward to getting her notes every week. That he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable, not ever, but perhaps it would be best if at some point they could meet and discuss things in person so there were fewer chances of misunderstandings?

Inko had to read it six times before it sunk in that All Might was asking to meet her. All Might was asking to meet her! She was in a daze all through her commute to work and most of the way through her workday. Her boss was forgiving enough to chalk it up to pregnancy and simply remind her to actually answer the phones when they rang. When her lunch break came, Inko wandered down to a small grocery store on the same street as her office -- much better prices than the one in her neighborhood, but an hour was a long trip just for groceries so she tended to use the other store. Still in a bit of a fog, Inko didn’t notice until too late that the canned fruit she was looking for was on a shelf much much higher than she could actually reach.

She could’ve just used her quirk to get it down, but...well, unlicensed public quirk use was illegal, no matter how impractical that was. Inko stretched up with one hand, keeping the other hand on her stomach. The baby apparently disapproved of this sudden movement and was rolling around. He liked it when she was walking, not so much when she was stretching. (And still she hadn’t picked a name for him. She’d tried a few, but nothing seemed to stick.)

“Here, let me-!”

Someone reached up over her head and brought down the can. At first glance, out of the corner of her eye, Inko almost mistook him for All Might. But that was ridiculous, right? His hair was wild and curly, all save two long bangs he’d sort of let flop loose in front of his face. And while he was definitely muscular, he didn’t quite seem to have the same level of definition as All Might. Very close, though. Inko realized she was staring at him and blushed bright red.

“S-sorry! You didn’t have to do that!” she stammered as he handed her the can.

“Well I didn’t want you to get hurt,” the man said with surprising sincerity, “Sorry if that was awkward haha I’m...bad at social things.”

And that was Inko’s introduction to Yagi Toshinori. He’d clumsily introduced himself and then dashed off blushing the moment her back was turned. Odd fellow. There’d been something strangely familiar about his eyes, though, and she just couldn’t place it. They looked almost like...nah. Couldn’t be.

Four weeks later, one of her neighbors asked her about “the buff American-looking guy” who slipped letters through her door at weird hours and Inko had an epiphany. If it was All Might, they’d have seen All Might. And probably called the presses. But the things in the letters were things that only All Might would know unless someone else had been reading her letters. With shaking hands, she wrote her next letter and slipped it under the mat.

If I met you while you were off the clock, would I still recognize you?

If she hadn’t been sore and unwilling to move from the couch, she would have waited by the door to see if she could catch her mystery penpal. She fell asleep there, waiting, and didn’t wake up again until her phone alarm went off the next morning to tell her to get ready for work. Grumbling, Inko showered, changed, and managed some form of breakfast. The baby really really hated miso and natto, so she’d been sticking to things like eggs and yogurt and citrus.

“Come on kid, I miss soup,” Inko groaned as she shoved an orange into her purse for later and bolted. She almost stepped on the folded piece of paper at the door. Already running late, she stuck it into her purse and didn’t even look at it until hours later that day.

Well, you would now, was all it said.

#free day thursday #bnha au #bnha #toshinko #toshinori yagi #yagi toshinori #midoriya inko #inko midoriya #Izuku isn't born yet #self-indulgent au is self-indulgent and i make no apologies #pen pals #Toshi is like 'this is safer than texting right?'#somewhere Gran Torino is having a conniption #fic excerpt #fic prompts #writing prompts #long post

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