#and just hanging out there following like five people and complaining about my life and talking about music nd reblogging some nice art
Text
Addams Family Steddie AU Part 3
Part One | Part Two
To preface, a bitch is sick rn so if you see any typos, no you didn't lol
"Robin, this is serious."
Steve can perfectly see Robin rolling her eyes through the phone as she says, "Oh, right, I'm so sorry your fiance-to-be is the perfect boyfriend who takes you on wonderful dates and romances you every single second you're together."
"I'm starting to think you're jealous."
"I'd only be jealous if Eddie had tits."
"He'd probably get some if I asked."
In the silence that follows, Steve can imagine Robin's scrunched face: her crinkled nose and curled lips and generally disgusted eyebrow furrow. He counts down from six in his head and then mouths along as Robin says, "I'd hang up if I weren't so invested in your love life."
"For someone so invested, you're not helping."
He hears a put-upon sigh through the speaker and returns it with a sigh of his own. Steve gives up on sitting properly and collapses back onto his bed, staring at the unmoving ceiling fan Hulyet is currently hanging from to nap.
"Fine, fine, what's the actual problem again?" Robin asks, her question followed by the sound of her shutting a book (one of her science textbooks based on the sound it makes when closing) so she can give Steve her full attention.
"Eddie is always planning our dates, and they're always really good, right? So I want to plan a date in return, but I have no clue how to plan something we'll both equally enjoy. In fact, I have no clue how Eddie plans our dates in the first place."
"Just start with something he likes and try to find something you'll like in it."
"Okay, say it again, but pretend I'm five."
Robin sighs again, and Steve hears the creaking of her bed as she collapses onto it. "Okay, the last date he planned, it was a hockey game, right?"
"Yeah."
"So, you like sports. Hockey is an obvious jump from there, but was Eddie also having fun at the game?"
Steve hums, reviewing their date from the week before. He hadn't expected Eddie to pull out hockey tickets, but he'd looked forward to it nonetheless. The game itself was fun, and the rink was cold enough that Steve had been able to scoot closer to Eddie and complain about being chilly.
Of course, Eddie's immediate response was to pull out a lighter, open it, and flick a flame to life while asking, "How big of a fire do you want, Stevie?"
For a brief moment, Steve had considered the question. But then he'd realized a fire would disrupt the hockey game, so they probably shouldn't start one.
After grabbing the lighter and stuffing it into his own pocket, Steve leaned closer and whispered, "Wouldn't you rather put your arm around me?" Eddie had lit up, and his smile was wide enough to make Steve feel blinded as he wrapped an arm around Steve's waist and pulled him closer.
It had been wonderful and romantic, right up until both of them got way too into the game and completely forgot about cuddling in favor of shouting at the players to hit harder and actually draw some blood to get the puck.
Steve smiles a little at the memory. "Yeah, he enjoyed the violence."
"Well, we all enjoy seeing buff people get a little bloody," Robin says, and Steve can see the way she's nodding like a wise man. "Anyway, he probably knew he'd enjoy the whole violence part of the sport. So, follow that formula."
"What formula are you seeing here?"
"Thing fiance-to-be likes plus a small part of it you could probably enjoy equals romance. If that's too hard, just get him a gift and plan the date around that."
Well, it sounds easy when she says it like that. "Why didn't I think of that?"
"Because I'm the genius here, obviously. Now go plan a date so you can tell me all about it later. And I expect details, Steven. Sordid details. If I'm not quivering in my bodice, what's the fucking point."
"You don't even have a bodice. And my name isn't Steven."
"I'll get one, and your name is whatever's comedically appropriate."
"I found a good website for bodices and corsets, actually. I can send it to you."
"What are you doing on that website, Steve?" Robin asks, her voice light and eager.
Steve smirks, pulling the phone away from his ear and saying, "Wouldn't you like to know," before quickly hanging up. The phone stays silent for three whole seconds before Robin immediately calls back, but Steve is too busy laughing to actually pick up.
Part of why the Munsons moved to Steve's neighborhood is the cemetery within walking distance. The cemetery is at the very back of the neighborhood, hidden from people who don't actually live there. The front of the cemetery is perfectly presentable. The gravestones are clean and new, and flowers decorate most graves while others hold pebbles and stones of various sizes and colors.
The back of the cemetery, however, is a Munson paradise. The grass gives way to brown, under-watered weeds and dirt, the faded gravestones are covered in moss and plants climbing them, and the trees are perpetually leafless and spindly to create the perfect horror movie atmosphere. It was like that even before the Munsons moved to the neighborhood, but Steve doesn't actually know why.
The back of the cemetery is where Steve leads Eddie, occasionally looking back to make sure the blindfold covering Eddie's eyes is still in place. "You know, I was expecting more than walking when you pulled out the blindfold," Eddie says, squeezing Steve's hand.
"We're almost there," Steve promises, looking around them until he spots the picnic blanket and pillows he'd laid down earlier in front of a blank gravestone. There's a small projector on the edge of the blanket, facing the wall of a mausoleum, with a DVD player connected to it.
Steve stops at the edge of the blanket, takes a deep breath, and moves to stand in front of Eddie. "Okay," he says, reaching up and carefully pulling off the blindfold.
When it comes off, Eddie looks straight at Steve, not sparing a glance at the set-up behind him. "Are you the surprise?" he asks, sliding his hands around Steve's hips and pulling him closer.
"I'm not much of a surprise," Steve points out.
"You're the best gift I could ask for," Eddie says, sealing the words with a kiss that would be too easy for Steve to get lost in.
And he almost does, but he pulls away before Eddie's tongue can get too far into his mouth. "No, wait, you haven't seen the actual surprise," he mumbles, putting a few inches between them and gesturing to the picnic blanket.
Eddie's eyes light up, and he pulls Steve to the blanket. He sits against the headstone and tugs Steve down next to him. "Movie date in a graveyard? Very romantic, sweetheart," Eddie says, leaning close and kissing Steve's jaw.
"Well, that's not the whole surprise," Steve replies, leaning his head on Eddie's shoulder. He hears a quiet hum from above him and adds, "This is our spot."
"What? Like a make-out spot? We gonna sneak out in the middle of the night to make out right here twice a week?"
"Only twice?" Steve asks, his voice teasing as he tilts his head back to see Eddie smile. He doesn't give Eddie the chance to answer, though. Instead, he takes Eddie's hand and plays with his engaged-to-be-engaged ring. "I mean, this is our spot. We're leaning on our gravestone."
A few seconds pass before Eddie seems to actually process the words. When he does, he straightens up, tugging Steve away from the gravestone with him so he can see it. "Is this...a couple's plot?" he asks, his eyes wide as he looks from the stone to Steve.
Steve flushes, heat rising in his cheeks as he looks away. He takes a deep breath, deciding to just verbalize his thought process when he'd bought the plot. "I figured, well, we wouldn't want to be apart even in death. So we'll be buried together, you know? Our corpses will be embracing as we rot for eternity, becoming skeletons and dust that will only know each other."
The words are followed by silence, making Steve wonder if he somehow fucked up with his gift. He braces himself and glances up at Eddie to ask if he doesn't like it only to be pushed back on the blanket. Steve blinks, his brain barely catching up as Eddie kisses him. This is, by far, the most desperate kiss Steve has ever received from Eddie. It's a kiss that's practically begging Steve to give Eddie permission to swallow him whole, tuck him securely into the marrow of his bones, and hold him there so they'll never be apart.
Steve is a little confused, but he's far more interested in kissing back, sliding his fingers into Eddie's hair and tugging playfully as he bites Eddie's tongue. A rough growl in response sends shivers down Steve's spine, goosebumps spreading across his arms as Eddie pushes his hands under Steve's shirt.
Surprisingly warm fingers trail across Steve's abdomen before Eddie's hands settle on his hips, his pinkies teasingly pushing past the waistband of his jeans. Steve sighs softly, relaxing at the familiar sensation as he hooks one of his legs over Eddie's waist, pulling him close until their hips and chests are flush against each other.
Eddie grins against Steve's lips, his left hand trailing down Steve's waist to rest on his thigh, holding it in place as he teasingly grinds their hips together. Steve jolts, a surprised, quiet moan escaping him as his hands start to tremble with adrenaline and...well, sheer horniness if he's being honest.
"Please tell me we can fuck on our future grave," Eddie says, his voice low and husky as he speaks against Steve's lips.
Steve groans, fully agreeable to the idea only to realize two very important things. One, he doesn't have any lube, and two, he was actually looking forward to watching movies with Eddie, which wouldn't really happen if they got too distracted. Plus, you know, the whole sex in public thing, but that's not as big of a deal. Who's going to be visiting the cemetery on a Wednesday?
But Steve doesn't want to completely dash Eddie's hopes and the sheer joy in his eyes at the idea, so he presses another kiss to his lips and promises, "Later, Eddie."
Despite his disappointed expression, Eddie doesn't argue. He just sits up, pulling Steve with him so he stays in his lap. "I'll hold you to that, sweetheart," he whispers, kissing down Steve's neck until he reaches the point where it meets his shoulder. He bites down there, causing Steve to inhale sharply as he licks and sucks a hickey onto his skin.
Steve shakily exhales, biting his bottom lip to keep himself grounded. When it feels like Eddie is about to start on another hickey, Steve uses his grip on his hair to pull him back. "Stevie," Eddie breathes, his eyes dark as he looks up at him, "you know what pulling does to me."
Steve snorts, kisses his cheek, and climbs off his lap. "Keep it in your pants for now, babe. I actually want to get to the other part of this date," he says, moving over to the projector.
"And what's that?" Eddie asks.
"Classic monster movies," Steve says, grinning at the excited gasp that comes from Eddie as he turns on the projector. Once it boots up, the mausoleum wall shows the opening menu for a Monster Movie Collection DVD. Steve puts on Frankenstein, making sure the movie actually starts and the opening credits begin rolling before climbing back into Eddie's lap.
"I love you so fucking much," Eddie says, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist and hugging him close as he rests his chin on Steve's shoulder.
Steve grins, leaning back against him and idly playing with one of the rings on Eddie's fingers. "I love you, too. Now shut up and watch the movie. No more making out until at least this one is over."
"Yes, sir."
Steve can't help a soft laugh. He takes Eddie's hand, raises it to his lips, and playfully bites his palm before lacing their fingers together and focusing on the movie.
Tag List:
@estrellami-1, @justforthedead89, @starman-jpg, @abstractnaturaldisaster, @sugartin, @ashwagandalf, @xjessicafaithx,
If anyone else wants to be tagged in potential future parts, just let me know!
#steddie#steddie fic#addams family steddie#addams! eddie munson#steve harrington#eddie munson#robin buckley#platonic stobin#there's a reference to Addams Family Values in here#whoever notices it please know I love you#also#for anyone who was curious about that lol#this au has consumed me body and soul
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
Military Flyover
The dagger squad don't want to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas grand Prix. None of them really knew much about and, those that did only really knew about Nascar.
She hated the Vegas Grand Prix as much as those doing the military flyover. But the cute WSO there to support his friends was making it bearable.
Robert 'Bob' Floyd x F1 driver!reader
5.6K
a/n: yes a military flyover doesn't make sense for vegas buuuut let a girl dream lol - i'm hoping I've managed to write this for an audience that might not really know f1 but idk how confident i am in my abilities lol
Bob couldn't quite believe what the two time Top Gun graduates were having to do. They had completed an insanely dangerous mission and returned to be permanently stationed in San Diego, except from when they were called away for deployment.
They were a part of the military, why were they doing this?
Well, at least Bob didn't have to actually fly. He was a Weapon Systems Officer, he didn't have to take part in this. But he still went, more to morally support his squad.
Nat wasn't happy about have to do a military flyover of the Las Vegas Grand Prix. She, Bradley and Jake were constantly complaining. None of them knew anything about Formula One, not enough to appreciate doing the flyover.
(May I just say, even if they did know about F1, they still wouldn't appreciate it. They'd train for years to be in the navy and now they were having to waste their time on this.)
The flyover was on the Sunday. Only Natasha, Jake and Bradley were taking part. Bob didn't have to go, didn't have to visit the track on the Friday and the Saturday with the three of them.
But Natasha had begged him. "Drive up with me," she'd said to him. "It's five hours and I could use the company."
So, Bob agreed. His dad had sometimes watched Nascar while he was growing up. He didn't know much of anything about motorsport but, if Nat wanted him there, he'd go.
The navy pilots didn't know they'd been invited to meet the drivers. Bob followed Natasha through the paddock. "Getting to meet the drivers might be the only good thing thing to come from this," Nat mumbled as she led the way.
The paddock was buzzing with life. There were cameras following people around, interviews happening as they walked through the paddock. Fans stopped men in team shirts and hats for pictures before letting them continue.
There was a familiar whistle, just loud enough for Natasha and Bob to hear over the crowd around them. They turned and saw Rooster and Hangman striding towards them.
"Where are we meant to be?" Asked Hangman as Rooster pulled off his aviators and looked around. The three of them (Natasha, Jake and Bradley) were in their overalls, looking proper in their uniform. Bob, though. He was dressed down, wearing jeans and a sweater (Vegas really wasn't that warm this time of year), his military issued glasses sitting on his nose. He looked cute, even if he didn't know it.
"Cyclone said the Ferrari garage, right?" She said as she looked between the other aviators. Bob, who had studied the itinerary, nodded his head and the four of them set off towards the red garage.
***
The Las Vegas Grand Prix was a joke. All of the drivers thought so.
The Ferrari drivers weren't happy about it (just like the rest of the grid). They had spent the season struggling behind the Red Bulls and driving on an unknown track wasn't going to help that.
She needed a lot of mental preparation for this one. Just like the other drivers, before the first practice session her only experience on the track had been through sim racing. She was nervous in a way she hadn't been before.
She donned her red fireproofs, the overalls hanging from from her hips. She pulled her cap onto her head when there was a knock on her driver room door. "Yeah?" She called and the member of Ferrari staff walked in.
"The navy pilots are on their way," she said and went to back out of the drivers room.
"What?" The Ferrari driver called suddenly, her brows furrowed. "What navy pilots?"
The member of staff gulped. "They're doing a military flyover before the Grand Prix," she said. "They're on their way here to meet you and Charles," she said.
The driver let out a huff. She grabbed her drinks bottle and marched out of her drivers room, heading to find her teammate.
Charles was doing an interview for Sky Sports when she walked through the garage. She didn't much care, though. She powered on, her hand on Charles's shoulder as she stood at his side. "Chuck," she said, looking at her teammate.
Lawrence Barretto moved his microphone back to his mouth. "Is that his official name for the Vegas Grand Prix?" He asked and moved the microphone towards her.
"Yes," she said as Charles shook his head, repeatedly saying 'no'.
She stood beside him until the interview was over, answering any question Lawrence sent her way. As soon as they were done she grabbed Charles and pulled him away, pulling him further into the Ferrari garage.
"What's up?" Charles asked. He was a brilliant teammate, one of her best friends. They'd known each other for yeas and were close enough for people to think they were together at one point. Brocedes 2.0, many commented on the pictures of the two of them posted on the Scuderia Ferrari Instagram account, as if they were a disaster waiting to happen.
"Did you know we're having to meet the navy pilots doing the military flyover?" She asked, hands on her hips.
Charles furrowed his brows. And then his face relaxed as he shook his head at her. "Start checking your emails, please," he said.
She gently pushed him as a member of the Ferrari staff, the same girl from before, approached them. "They're here," she said and left them to it.
Charles led the way back through the garage, heading to where the navy pilots were standing around his car. Three of them, the three that looked the part, chatted with Fred while one, one that was dressed down, stood to the side.
Suddenly, she pulled Charles out of sight. "What is it?" He asked quickly, concern written on his face.
She looked back around the corner at the pilots for just a second. "Holy shit, Cha, I think I'm in love," she said and Charles just laughed.
"Do you need a wingman?"
She furiously shook her head. "Don't you bloody dare."
She steadied herself and followed Charles over to the navy pilots. Fred spotted his drivers first. He gestured over to them as he back away from the pilots, letting the drivers take over.
Charles held his hand out towards them introducing himself first. She went next, giving them her name as she reached out to shake the woman's hand.
"Natasha Trace," she said with a smile as she shook her hand. "Callsign Phoenix."
She moved on to the man with the moustache. "Bradley Bradshaw, or Rooster," he said and shook her hand, his grip firm. He wore a smile, but it was respectful.
Unlike the man next to him. She could tell who he was from the moment she looked at him, wearing that flirty smile. "Jake Seresin," he said, pulling her hand up to his lips to kiss the back of it. "You can call me Hangman."
The smile dropped from her face and she pulled her hand away, clearly unimpressed. She looked past him, at the guy in the sweater and the glasses. "How about you?" She asked, completely ignoring Hangman. "Are you in the navy too?"
Bob blushed bright red as he stepped forward. "Robert Floyd," he said and shook her hand. "I'm a weapon systems officer."
"Oh," she said. Just that one word and she sounded incredibly fascinated. "Do tell me more."
She'd asked Charles not to wing man her, but he did it anyway. She might not have been aware as Charles spoke to the other navy pilots, doing the job for both of them. (Charles didn't know if Bob was the one she had fancied, but it was easy to guess. He looked like her type).
They spoke for a good twenty minutes before the drivers were told to wrap up the conversation. "You got a call sign?" She asked Bob as she crossed her arms over her chest and leant against the wall.
Jake had been wrapped up in the conversation he, Rooster and Phoenix were having with Charles until that point. Upon hearing her question, he placed his arm around the WSO's shoulders and grinned at the driver. "This is Baby On Board," he said with a grin, going to pinch Bob's cheeks.
Again, his cheeks were flaming as he stepped away from Jake. "It's Bob," he said. "Just Bob."
"Just Bob," she repeated as she smiled at him, completely ignoring everything Jake had said (something that Bob was grateful for). "It's simple, I like it."
Her engineer called for her. She turned and put her thumbs up before turning back to Bob. "Are you staying for the free practice?" She asked and Charles couldn't stop himself from answering.
"Sorry," he said to the pilots. "She doesn't read her emails."
She sent a glare in Charles's direction. The drivers said a quick goodbye to the navy pilots (although she hoped it wasn't for the last time), and got themselves ready for the first practice session in Las Vegas. They pulled up the red and white overalls and placed the balaclavas over their faces.
Bob watched as she pulled her helmet on, hiding her undeniably pretty face. He really did think she was beautiful, and she seemed interested in him, but he wasn't going to read too much into that.
He couldn't see as she gave him a smile from beneath her helmet. When she climbed into the red car with the number 53 on it, Bob knew which one he had to look out for.
The track wasn't ready, everybody knew it. But they didn't know how bad it was until they shower of sparks coming out the back of her car. "What the fuck was that?" She said to her engineer down the radio. "I just hit a fucking manhole cover."
The pilots were leaning forward as she stopped the car. The session was stopped, the other drivers coming into the pits. She jumped out of the car, waiting for it to be lifted onto the truck so that she could look at the extent of the damage beneath.
As the car was taken back to the garage and workers surrounded the manhole cover, she climbed into the medical car and was taken back to the pitlane.
Bob watched as she stormed into the garage, pulling off her helmet and balaclava. "Nine fucking minutes!" She heard her say to somebody in a Ferrari shirt. "I officially hate the Vegas Grand Prix."
She looked around the garage, eyes focusing in on the pilots. They were watching her, too, and she forced her expression to soften as she walked over. "Sorry you had to see that," she said, unzipping her race suit.
Bob shook his head. "'s no worries, ma'am," he said before he could stop himself. When his fellow aviators looked at him, his cheeks flushed red.
"We're just glad to know you're okay," Natasha said for him.
The driver smiled at them. But the interaction was short lived as she was called over to her wrecked car. (It looked fine on the top, but everybody knew the damage was beneath, invisible).
The nine minutes of practice wasn't enough to help the aviators get into F1. Rooster, Hangman and Phoenix wanted to head back to their hotels, but Bob wanted to stick around.
"My dad was into Nascar," he explained as the others left. They nodded, but they knew better. Their Baby On Board had a crush.
She hadn't expect him to stay, that much was clear. She'd seen the other aviators leave and had gotten on with what she needed to do, speaking to the mechanics about the parts they needed to replace and speaking to Fred about the potential consequences.
"Oh!" She said when she saw Bob still sitting there. "I thought you would have left."
Bob gave a polite smile and shrugged his shoulders. "I wanted to learn more."
The smile she gave him matched his own. "Well, you're not gonna learn much here," she said. "Let me get changed and we can get dinner."
Bob didn't expect dinner to be in the Ferrari hospitality suite. He'd didn't exactly think he'd be going out to dinner with her, but he didn't expect this.
She sat Bob down at a table and got a selection of food for them to share. "I can't exactly go crazy," she'd said as she sat down opposite him, placing the single plate in between them. "I still have a car to drive later."
Bob grabbed something from the plate. "Why does that mean you can't go crazy?" He asked curiously, innocently.
Every question Bob had, she answered. He told her that his dad watched Nascar while he was going up but he couldn't get into it. Didn't have the time once he joined the navy.
She asked him all about that, just as curious as he was about her job. Bob knew she was meant to be this big celebrity, but she was normal with him, and he really appreciated it.
He hadn't known who she was going into this weekend, but he heard the way the fans screamed her name. She was so famous, and he was just a boy from Montana.
"Are you and your friends watching anything else of the Grand Prix weekend?" She asked as she ate a piece of lettuce (literally just holding a big piece of lettuce to her lips and crunching on it).
Bob shook his head as he looked down at the table in front of him. "'Friad not, ma'am," he said, looking at her over the top of his glasses. Bob didn't know what compelled him to do it, but he took them off.
"Aw," she said with a pout. "I liked them."
"Really?" Bob couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "I used to have ones with slightly thicker frames, but these are military issued," he explained, putting them back on his face.
She grinned at him. "They're cute," she said, resting her cheek in her hand. It was undeniably flirty, and her grin was only making it worse. Well, that would have been if Bob could have allowed himself to believe that was flirting with him.
"I could get you tickets, if you'd like," she said. "You and your pilot friends. You can come back back to the Ferrari garage, support us for the rest of the weekend."
Bob gave her a gentle smile. "I'd like that," he said.
They continued chatting until she had to head back to the garage. Bob followed her, walking behind her.
She took him back to the garage, leaving him to stand with the rest of the Ferrari guests while she disappeared into her drivers room. Bob couldn't help but think of her as she got herself ready, getting dressed into her fireproofs and race suit. If Nat was here, he could ask her for advice.
Ten minutes before the start of FP2, she walked over to Bob. He'd seen her dressed down in a Ferrari hoodie and cute cargos, seen her in her race suit, and seen her in her fire proofs, race suit sitting low on her hips.
That was how she walked towards him. He'd seen so little of her, but this was his favourite (and he certainly wanted to see more). "Want to sit in the car?" She asked, hands on her hips.
***
The first thing she did after FP2 was give Bob her phone number. He couldn't quite believe it, and made a mental note to recount everything to Natasha as soon as he got back to the hotel.
"Have you got a way back to your hotel?" She asked, her helmet tucked beneath her arm.
"I, uh..." No, he and Natasha had gotten a cab together.
She waved him off before he could give her a proper answer. "I can drive you, if you'd like," she offered.
That was how Bob found himself sitting in an F1 drivers car, telling her about his childhood as she took him back to his hotel. He told her about his big family and the mountains he grew up around. He told her about when he joined the military, about his first time in Top Gun and his permanent stationing in Coronado.
Before very long they were pulling up outside of his hotel. "Well, here we are," he said, patting his legs. He didn't move to leave the car, but she didn't much mind.
"I really liked meeting you today, Bob," she said as she tapped the heel of her hand against the steering wheel.
"It was lovely to meet you, too," he said.
"Promise you'll text me?"
"Promise."
She held out her pinky finger and Bob wrapped his own around it, sealing the deal. He looked at her one last time and climbed out of the car, heading into the hotel.
Bob couldn't hide his smile as he walked through the lobby and into the elevator. Just days ago he'd hated the thought of a military flyover for the Las Vegas Grand Prix. Now, he couldn't wait to get back to the track, back to the Ferrari garage.
Nat noticed it the minute he walked through the door of the hotel room they were sharing. "Had a good time watching the rest of it?" She asked as she pushed away from the desk in the room.
Bob nodded as he pulled out his phone, clicking on her contact. But, the moment he was there, he didn't know what to say to her. "Nat," he called, looking up at her. "I need your help."
He only needed Nat's help to get the ball rolling. But soon, she and Bob were sending messages back and forth with just a second long gap between. Sometimes Bob took a little longer to reply, but only because Nat was reading the messages over his shoulder and assuring him that she was flirting.
Bob couldn't believe it. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't.
"I'll go with you tomorrow," Nat said as she climbed into her bed. It was incredibly late and Bob was hyper-aware that they were still texting. "Find out if she really is flirting with you."
"Nat..."
"Goodnight, Bob."
Natasha went to sleep, but Bob stayed up. She was still replying to his messages, and he couldn't bring himself to not respond. At least until she turned around and wished him goodnight.
When Bob woke up, she had already texted him. I don't have to be on track until later - wanna get food?
Who was Bob to say no? Natasha grinned as he got himself ready, including his glasses. (He had brought his contacts to Vegas because of how much he hated wearing his glasses. He didn't have time to put them in before they headed to the track the day before, but Nat didn't expect him to wear them now).
He walked out of the hotel, ignoring Hangman and Rooster as they called after him. They sat in the lobby, do doubt waiting for Natasha as they whistled at him.
Bob kept going. He saw her car before he walked out of the glass doors, and had to stop himself from breaking into a small jog. As he approached, she pushed open the passenger side door. "Hey, Robby!" She called, wearing a grin.
"Hey," Bob said, wearing a smile as he climbed into the passenger side.
As soon as he was buckled in, she began driving. "Have you ever been to Vegas before?" She asked as she headed towards the strip.
Bob shook his head. "No, ma'am," he said. It wasn't in the same way he'd said 'ma'am' before. No, those time he had been nervous saying it. This time, it was so fucking cute and she loved it. "I don't get enough leave for that."
"Why do you call me ma'am?" She asked, but she never wanted it to stop.
Bob couldn't stop his smile. "My momma raised me right."
That much she could tell. She parked the car and climbed out as Bob did the same. "Come on," she said, grabbing his hand and pulling him along.
They went to a restaurant. Bob didn't catch the name of it as she pulled him through the doors. Even when sat gave the waiter her name, she was still holding his hand.
They sat down at a table for two. It felt far too intimate, almost like a date. She couldn't order a drink, but insisted that Bob did. He ordered one beer and made sure to make it last through their entire lunch.
She ordered a salad. Bob wanted to do the same, but she could see how conflicted he was. "Have whatever you want," she said, lowering her menu.
So, he did just that. Bob got himself a burger, the cheapest one on the menu (which was still incredibly expensive).
While they ate, Bob couldn't ignore the way her foot touched his knee beneath the table. He gulped as he reached for his beer.
While they waited, she told Bob about how she had grown up. Karting from a young age before moving onto single seaters.
The more she spoke, the more Bob could imagine getting into F1. Watching races, coming to see her in Vegas when he wasn't deployed. He just had to hope she still liked him enough to keep in contact with him.
They spent the entire afternoon together, until she was taking Bob to the track with her. Pictures of the two of them were taken as they walked through the paddock, too close to just be friends.
Once again, Bob stood in the garage while she completed the last practice session. She led, the fastest car until the Red Bulls were released onto the track.
But still, Bob couldn't stop watching the number 53 car. She came into the pits, had her tyres changed and went out a few minutes later.
Bob couldn't help but smile as he watched her climb the leaderboard. When practice ended, she didn't come in right away, doing a practice start with the other drivers.
When she got out of her car, she pulled off her helmet and balaclava, and spoke to her engineers. She had looked so happy when she climbed out of the car, but Bob watched as her face fell.
She walked over to him, unable to keep herself from sighing. The anger dropped from her face, replaced by sadness. "Wanna come sit in my drivers room?"
So, Bob followed her to her drivers room. She led him inside and shut the door behind him, letting out a breath as she leaned against it.
"Everything okay?" Asked Bob as he pushed his glasses up his nose.
She unzipped her overalls and let them fall to her hips. Bob shuffled over on the couch, giving her space. She sat beside him, shutting her eyes as she leaned back. "Because of the parts they'd had to replace in my car, I'm probably going to get a penalty later," she mumbled.
Her head fell onto his shoulder and Bob didn't move. He hesitated before wrapping his arm around her shoulder. That that, she shuffled slightly closer, which Bob didn't mind one bit.
Suddenly, she let out a weak laugh. "You're kinda making me want to stay in the states a little longer, Robby," she mumbled.
He looked down at her. "Would you? Seriously?" Bob could imagine it then, taking her to stay with him in San Diego, taking her to Montana to meet his mom at Christmas.
She shook her head. "I can't," she said and sighed through her nose. "There's one last race before the end of the season."
After that, Bob wanted to say. But he squeezed her shoulder instead.
When her trainer came in, Bob wished her good luck and headed back out to the garage. While he waited, he pulled out his phone and sent Natasha a text. She hadn't gone to the track with him, instead going with Bradley and Jake to the hangar they would be flying from.
If Nat showed Rooster and Hangman his texts, he'd never hear the end of it. But Bob realised he didn't mind. Let them talk, he was here with her.
The first round of the qualifying session was about to start. Bob sort of knew what to expect, she'd explained it to him while they sat in her drivers room, her head on his shoulder. He watched as she walked towards the car, her red, gold, black and white helmet on her head.
She climbed into the car and somebody strapped her in as somebody else spoke to her. She nodded at whatever they were saying and put her thumbs up.
Admittedly, Bob couldn't tell the difference between the practice sessions and the qualifying session. He watched as she went from having no time on the board to being the quickest car on track. But then she was knocked out of the top spot, down in eighth by the end of that session.
Bob had assumed that she was starting the race in eighth position after the eighteen minute long qualifying session. But then she and fourteen other drivers were going back out onto track.
Again she was at the top of the board, knocked out by the same driver. But she stayed in fourth, unable to get a quicker time in before the end of the session.
She went out for a third and final time. Bob heard her calling down the radio as somebody got in her way. But she put an impressive time on the board, finishing third.
It may have been obvious to everybody else in the garage, but Bob had to ask the girl standing next to him. She pushed her dark hair behind her ear and answered with a thick French accent. Bob thanked her and watched as the 53 car came into the garage.
She hopped out, did what she needed to do and came to find Bob.
It was near midnight and she couldn't quite believe he was still there, watching her. They'd spent the entire day together, and she'd loved every minute of it.
"Want me to drive you home?" She asked and Bob nodded his head.
She did just that, driving Bob back to his hotel. "They haven't confirmed if I've got a penalty or not," she said as she drove him. "So, for now I'm starting in P3." She quickly glanced at him and then looked back at the road. "Think you might be my good luck charm, Robby," she said and he blushed a deep shade of red.
She pulled up outside of the hotel, just as she had done the day before. And, like the day before, Bob was hesitant to climb out of the car.
As Bob reached for the handle of the door, she opened her mouth, ready to say something, and he stopped. But she closed her mouth. Still, Bob didn't move.
She sucked in a breath and tried again. This time, words came out. "Can I come up?"
Bob knew what that meant. How could he not? Some part of him had been wanting her to ask something like this for the last few hours. But still, he shook his head. "I, uh, I can't. I'm sharing my room with Nat."
"Oh," she said and looked down at the centre console between them. "Oh, shit. Are you and Nat- I didn't mean to overstep... I-"
Bob quickly shook his head. "No. No, Nat's my best friend, but only my best friend," he said. "But, her bed is a couple feet away from mine, so..."
She couldn't help but let a smile cross her face at that. "Can I kiss you, Robby?" She asked.
He leaned over the centre console. Her arms went around his neck, fingers playing with the short hair at the back of his neck.
Bob kissed her. He closed the gap between them, his arm awkwardly resting on her shoulders as his lips moved against her own. Her nose bumped the lens of his glasses, but neither of them minded.
If the expensive car left room for it, he would have moved her onto his lap. But he couldn't. He pulled away, staring at her as his eyes opened again. "Holy shit," he whispered and she grinned at him.
"I'll come and get you before the race," she said and Bob climbed out of the car.
***
He didn't wake up to a text from her. Immediately Bob's mind played tricks on him, telling him that, after they had kissed, she didn't want him.
He sat in the hotel for half of the day, in a perpetual state of anxiousness. Part of him didn't want to move until he heard from her, until he knew that everything was okay.
"You coming?" Nat asked him. He checked his phone one last time before following her out of the hotel room.
He didn't know what she was currently dealing with, that she had just found out about her grid place penalty. "This is such shit!" She cried as she and Charles walked through the paddock. She'd woken up to the news and hadn't had time to message Bob.
"Well, there's nothing we can do about it now," Charles said, stopping to sign things for fans (signs, hats, and even a packet of oreos). "How are things going with the navy guy?"
She grinned as they kept walking through the paddock. "We kissed, Cha," she said, suddenly much happier.
"Kissed and..." Charles tried to push.
She shook her head. "Just kissed."
Charles nodded as they walked into the garage. "Just kissed, but you wanted more," he said. "Are you gonna see him before we leave?"
"Yeah," she answered. "I'm gonna go and pick him up before the race."
Through the evening, she and Charles did what they needed to do for the race. When she got a minute, she texted Bob, but she didn't have many opportunities to check her phone.
As soon as she had a chance, she ran out of the paddock. She held her phone to her ear as she went, making her way to her car. Bob picked up on the third ring. "Hey," she said, opening the door of her car. "I'm on my way."
Bob hesitated before he answered. "I'm not at the hotel right now."
"Do you still want to come to the race?" She asked quickly.
"Do you still want me there?"
She let out a laugh. "Of course I do, Robby. Give me the address and I'll pick you up."
That was just what happened. She picked Bob up and took him to the track. She promised the other aviators that she would get him there to watch the military flyover and drove off with him in the passenger seat.
"Have you ever been to San Diego?" Bob asked as she drove. It had been playing on his mind a lot since they kissed, his best case scenario (which was currently happening. He could have laughed at himself for being so worried).
She shook her head. "I haven't had a chance to explore outside of the places we have Grand Prix," she answered.
"So, you haven't been to Montana?"
"Nope."
Bob couldn't help but smile. He sucked in a breath, steadying himself. "I don't know when you're gonna have time off, but I could show you Montana, if you'd like."
She grinned at him as she parked the car. "I'd love that, Robby," she said and climbed out of the car.
She checked the time on her watch, grabbed her hand and began running. "I'm late!" She cried. Bob was only happy to run beside her, heading into the Ferrari garage. He slowed to a walk, but she kept going, running to her drivers room to pull on her fireproofs and overalls.
Bob watched it all. He watched as she stood for the national anthem with her fellow drivers, watched as she completed the formation lap from the back of the grid (something he had to ask about), and watched as she raced.
Bob couldn't help but be impressed as she fought her way across the track, racing past most of the grid. She overtook ten other cars, finishing in 5th.
When she climbed out of the car, Bob could see just how happy she was from her body language alone. She did what she had to do, spoke to the team and was interviewed, before she ran over to Bob and threw her arms around him.
"That was incredible!" He cried, smiling down at her. "I didn't realise racing was so exciting."
She grinned and kissed his cheek. "Think you'll watch next weeks race?"
"Definitely," he said.
He hadn't expected her to kiss him in front of all of the cameras. But Bob didn't mind. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her close until she pulled away.
"I leave in the morning," she whispered in his ear. "Stay with me, in my hotel. One last night."
"Until Montana?" Bob asked, his forehead against her own.
"Until Montana."
a/n: ok i loved this and it may need a part two lol
#bob floyd#bob floyd imagine#bob floyd x reader#bob floyd fluff#bob floyd x you#robert floyd#bob floyd smut#bob floyd x reader smut#robert bob floyd#robert floyd imagine#robert floyd x reader#robert floyd fluff#robert floyd smut#robert floyd x you#top gun#top gun bob#top gun maverick
390 notes
·
View notes
Text
This is my contribution to the Harringrove Relay Race
There's no following @bigdumbbambieyes but take this humble offering.
The Best You (Never) Had
written for @harringrove-relay-race
Rating: M
Pairing: Steve x Billy with a heavy dose of angst.
I was charmed and instantly driven insane by the absolutely bomb Harringrove playboy bunnies drawn by @adelacreations, and it inspired me to wonder about a trans femme Billy, running into her past at a strip club.
Enjoy the adventures of Bunny Hargrove.
And stay on the look out for what @robthegoodfellow has coming up!
When Billie left Hawkins she hadn’t looked to her future and seen herself working at a strip club. She certainly hadn’t foreseen the possibility of having to serve her high-school bully cheap food and lousy drinks in one once she’d made it back to Cali. But that’s exactly what seems to be in store for her – fuck her life.
Five men occupy the half moon booth and table reserved mostly for bachelor parties and the occasional VIP. Billie’s coworker Amanda has been serving them food and drinks while they enjoy the sets of dancers on stage, but her wait shift is ending and Billie’s prepping to take over – tuning out the other woman as she complains about one of the men grabbing at her ass and being a poor tipper.
It seems impossible, but somehow it’s happening. Steve Harrington is sitting right there, watching Lacey wiggle her ass in red spandex to a Katy Perry song.
It’s been going on fifteen years, but Billie would recognize him anywhere. Same slouch to the shoulders and dreamy eyed stare – neither Lacey’s wild gyrations nor the conversation of the group he’s with enough to hold his full attention. Same stupid hair, although he’s changed the shape since high school. Now it’s held securely to one side by too much gel, and she just wants to break it up with her fingers. His laugh still doesn’t reach his eyes, and it probably says a lot about Billie, that some part of her is relieved to see that.
Her rent might be too high, her boss might be a creep, and her ex is still full of shit, but Steve Harrington is still hanging around with guys like Tommy and faking a smile, so it balances the scales.
He’s still gorgeous too, fuck him. Billie swallows and forces herself to look away, and not run away like the frantic beating of her heart suggests that she should. She’s got nothing to hide, and she’s not ashamed.
There’s no reason at all she shouldn’t saunter right over to the table with the bachelor party Amanda was gracious enough to split with her (knowing all about her rent worries) and flirt her way to another month of financial security; except for the fact that even in this day and age, certain people still get funny about people like her and Billie knows these guys.
Or rather, they knew her before – before she got out of Neil’s house, before freedom, before Billie.
There’s no reason at all she shouldn’t go over there and take that table full of drunk losers, eager to blow their cash on the club's cheap booze and dancing girls, for all that they’re worth. Nothing besides fear.
Fuck that.
The group is laughing loudly about something as Billie saunters up, one last swarm of butterflies taking flight in her belly as Hagen turns his neck to squint blearily at her.
God, that stupid smirk hasn’t changed a bit – wide and dopey like the dog he is, and mean in the eyes. Those beetle browns look her over just like they did on her first day in Hawkins, assessing for strengths and weaknesses to exploit; and for a moment she remembers the terror of being under that gaze and all the others like it. The fear of being caught out consuming her, choking her, day after day.
Sorry kid. Billie thinks to herself with a sway of her hips, right before parking herself up against the arm of the leather couch, warm skin brushing the sleeve on Tommy’s shoulder. The way that his lips part unconsciously as he gawks at her doesn’t make up for the past, but it still feels damn good. She’s a bad bitch and she knows it. Knew it back then but now she can show it and will kick ass if Tommy or any of his buddies decide they have a problem with it.
But it’s not recognition of any kind on any of their faces, it’s lust. They leer at the shiny shorts that hug her thighs and the plunging neckline of her tiny top – her employer's idea of a uniform. Whatever vindication she feels on behalf of her pitiful high school self, she doesn’t actually care anymore what Tommy and the clones think.
Billie finds her eyes going to Steve like they’re magnetized.
She shouldn’t care what Harrington thinks either, and yet, there’s a stupid flutter in her chest (damn it) when Steve looks her over, eyes lingering just a hair too long on her chest to be anything other than interested, before he meets her eye.
“Hey beautiful.” He leans forward a little, totally present now like he wasn’t before dripping charm he obviously learned in some board room working for daddy. And yet, there’s still some part of Billie that expects to wake up in bed back in the house on Cherry Street.
“What’s your name?” Steve Harrington is definitely asking, her, like it’s just a pre-courser to getting her naked, and Billie shivers. Fuck is she doing this?
“Hi Bambi, I’m Bunny.” She teases. Sees the line in the sand and walks right over it. Tommy howls like some chick likening his buddy to a baby deer is the most hilarious shit, and it sets the others off, oohing and ahhing and generally acting like fools as they rib Harrington.
But Steve ignores them, and the way he jolts a little when he hears that name, eyes narrowing on her in wary confusion, goes straight to her clit. Shit. One of these days her hard on for danger is gonna get her killed. But today it’s got her heart thumping and her pussy dripping as she clenches around nothing, like he’s already sliding inside where she obviously still wants him. She needs better taste in men. She’s sure her mama would have said she gets her poor taste from her if she’d stuck around long enough while Billie was growing up.
“I’m a sucker for big pretty brown eyes.” She winks at him, sugar sweet and he seems to settle a little. “Can I get you another round of drinks, or are you in the mood for something better?”
“Bunny.” He ignores the question to turn her show name over on his tongue, slow and curious like he’s tasting it. “Are you on tonight?” He asks, gaze twitching toward the stage and back.
“You calling me a stripper Bambi?”
“It is a strip club, and with a name like Bunny.”
Billie laughs and Steve’s mouth slides into a satisfied smirk, like that was always the end goal. Tommy rolls his eyes and pouts like an overgrown toddler, “Didn’t you date a chick named Trixie?”
“Yeah. So?” Steve drawls in reply, his focus momentarily shifting from Billie and back to Tommy, which if Billie’s memory serves, is exactly how Tommy likes it.
This is a bad idea. Such a bad idea. God, Hagen really hasn’t changed, but neither has Steve. Those dry little dig and the arch of his eyebrows are so familiar she feels a strange sort of relief. Like there was something inside her that had been counting down since the last time she saw him, afraid that he’d change and become lost to memory.
Fuck. That sounds – it’s not, what it sounds.
“So, you can’t tell a stripper by their name is all I’m saying.”
“Dude, are you serious? I met Trixie because you paid for her to show up at my apartment dressed like a police officer and give me a lap dance on my birthday.”
Now there’s an idea, Billie thinks as Tommy, remembering the incident, smiles sheepishly.
“I’m not dancing tonight, no.” Billie finally answers his question, pulling Steve’s attention back and a shiver goes down her spine when his eyes snap to her. “But I wouldn’t say no to tying you up and having my way with you, Pretty Boy.”
She doesn’t have to wonder if Steve remembers her the way she remembers him. If the words Billie had said and the insults, she’d flung had burrowed under his skin to live with him the same way Billie lives with his.
Steve flinches, his eyes narrowing sharply on her, and it’s barely perceptible but she catches it before he’s being nudged at and jostled from both sides by his buddies as they hoot and holler about how he’s been chosen.
He never stops looking at her.
The only one who doesn’t seem absolutely thrilled for him to get picked up by some babe in a seedy strip club in Santa Monica is Tommy, who grumbles something about the attention being wasted on Steve.
For the first time Billie wonders if he might be the bachelor about to get hitched – and she’s the one to flinch this time, as her eyes dart down to his hand. The ring finger is empty, which doesn’t really prove anything, but the pale strip of skin she finds there tells its own story.
Divorced? Long engagement? Married already perhaps and out to prove the apple doesn’t fall far from the tree? Fuck she hopes it’s not the last one. Not because it would change anything for her. Maybe it would, if she were a nicer person, but she’s not the married one, and if she started splitting hairs about fooling around with married men her tip jar would be a whole lot emptier each month.
No. She just plain doesn’t want him to be attached. The thought makes her chest twist up inside and the bottom of her stomach feel like it’s going to fall right out her ass – the same fucked up emotional constipation she’d felt watching him run through the female population of Hawkins High like he was trying to make them all forget they’d watched Nancy Wheeler take his balls and then make an absolute fool of him.
“Thanks for the offer, Bunny -” Steve starts, and she can hear the butt coming as clear as the others can if the sudden swell of groans is anything to go by.
“Harrington! Come on man.”
“Boo!”
“See what I mean? That’s a fucking ten right there, and you’re going to blow it over some bitch who doesn’t even want you?!” Screeches Tommy.
Bingo. Thank you, Tommy, with the big mouth. So, it’s divorced. Separated but still holding on to the past – just like old times.
It makes her smile a little mean as she leans toward him, holding his gaze, purrs - “You scared, Bambi? Worried I might break you?”
Steve clamps his mouth shut. His eyes blaze at her and her throat goes dry.
“Oh ho! Careful now darlin, our Stevie boys got a pretty big ego. You might not want to poke that bull if you’re not ready for the ride.” One of the bros says with the kind of glint in his eye that says he lives for ‘big egos’ putting little women like her into place. Fucking prick.
Steve seems to think so too because he mutters, “Shuttup Andy” as he reaches in his pocket for his wallet.
“How much?” he asks her, sounding bored. It’s bullshit. Billie licks her lip in triumph.
“Fifty for a lap dance here at the table, fifty more if you want to see some tit.”
“How much for a private show?”
Her breath hitches, her stomach tightening in her eagerness, but somehow, she keeps the breath out of her tone as she replies.
“Depends on what you want to see.” She answers, and without so much as a pause Harrington smiles – challenges.
“Everything.”
Fuck. She’s doing this.
She’s not delusional enough to think that fucking him is going to heal her inner child or whatever, and while she firmly believes she doesn’t owe every one night stand a complete rundown of her medical history, she’s fully aware of how this is different – of what the upstanding thing to do would be.
But then Billie remembers the way Steve had started pushing back after their fight that strange night at the Byers house; the way he’d swooped in and pulled the rug out from under her – reclaiming his spot as top dog, just by existing. No begging. No apologies. He just opened the doors to that mansion he lived in and rang the bell, and Tommy and the rest had come looking for supper.
She remembers the cruel things he said to her as he flaunted his big house and fancy car, rubbing in how quickly it was over once he made it a real contest; because however shiny and new Billie had been to those kids, she was still just trash under it all. Angry white trash going nowhere fast, while Steve was Mr. Somebody. Once he’d pulled his head out of Wheeler’s ass and remembered it, he’d made turning the school against Billie his new focus.
Pushed further and further to the fringes, Billie’s only choice to keep the jackals at bay had been to fight them off until people got the message and started avoiding her altogether.
She’s not claiming victim. She knows damn well who started the fight – that it was her own demons that drove her to lash out and try and prove her dominance over him – and that after that night at the Byers, Steve had especially no reason to take mercy on her.
But just because she’d asked for the fight doesn’t mean taking a beating hadn’t nearly pushed her to the edge.
Billie swallows back the taste of bitterness in her mouth, from the memory of being alone, broken and desperate, aching to be near someone who loathed her and yearning for the looks he gave so easily to other girls.
Except now he is – King Steve – looking at Billie Hargrove like he wants her. Like he’d empty out his wallet and spend all of that nepo baby salary just for the chance to get at her; and like hell is she going to turn it away. Revenge couldn’t get sweeter than this. The only thing that could make it better is if he knew. It’s me on your mind. Me you can’t ignore. Me you can’t walk away from.
But it’s just a fantasy. The reality him recognizing her now or later has her swinging from vicious jubilation toward mind numbing panic on a dime.
Regardless - Steve Harrington stands up, ignoring the cheers of his drunk friends, eyes locked with hers – and Billie Hargrove makes her own choices.
Billie is going to ride Steve until he sees God, hollowed be her name. Because she wants him (still) and he finally wants her. Just for once. That’s all she needs.
She can worry about the aftermath after.
#harringrove#billy hargrove#steve harrington#stranger things#harringrove relay race#trans femme Billy Hargrove#Billie Hargrove is a bad bitch and she makes no apologies#nor should she#Also love that her working name is Bunny#Bunny x Bambi forever lol
59 notes
·
View notes
Text
Sunset Savannah’s Tamashina-Mina – Episode 1
Following is my translation of Episode 1 of the Tamashina-Mina event.
Spoilers after the cut!
Episode 1-1
Leona: Life just ain’t fair… Can't believe I got stuck going on this useless trip to this good-for-nothing city.
Vil: Excuse you? You’re the one who invited us here, you know. You’re ruining the nice scenery, so could you maybe try not complaining for like five seconds?
Kalim: This place is totally awesome! The scenery's beautiful everywhere you look, and the city’s absolutely huge. I’m so glad we got to come hang out in Leona’s hometown.
Leona: Oi. Lemme tell you this one more time: we ain’t here for fun and games. Our goal is to…
Lilia: You needn’t be so concerned, Leona. We all understand what we’re here for. No matter who we go up against, they’ll be no match for us. We’ll win this thing lickety-split!
Leona: …..Fine. Long as you get it. Ya’ll better not mess this up, you hear? You guys gotta be the ones who win the title of “Sunset Warrior”.
(A phone rings)
Leona: …Augh. Would ya shut up already? Who the heck would call me this early.… It’s…!! Tsch. If I don’t answer him now, it’ll just come back to bite me in the butt later.
(Leona accepts the call)
Leona: What’s up? Got a morning report for me or something? Huh. A reminder call? That’s new. Guess I shouldn’t expect anythin’ less from the grand chamberlain of the royal family. You sure are somethin’. Listen, you can save your breath. You called just to tell me to come home in time for Tamashina-Mina, right? I get it, it totally slipped my mind last year. Hah, it might just slip my mind this year, too. ….What? You’re comin’ here to get me? At Night Raven College? And you're bringin' all the chamberlains!? I didn’t know you’d take this so seriously… Fine, fine, I get it. I’ll come home the day before the festival. …Yes, I mean it. Have I ever lied to ya? ….Oh, quit with the blabbering. It was just a joke. But I got one condition for me coming home. You have to make sure to leave a slot free for one team in the “Catch the Tail” tournament. ….Why? Doesn’t matter. Stop complainin’ and just do it.
(Leona hangs up the phone)
Leona: Give me a break… The hell is he so obsessed with some stupid old event for? What a hard-headed geezer. Ah, now that I think about it, this is a good chance to take care of that little problem I got. ‘Kay, then I’ll need to go assemble the right pieces to win this game.
(After school - Savannah Claw Dorm Lounge)
Everyone: ….
Leona: So ya made it after all, Lilia and Vil. Nice work, Jack.
Jack: No problem!
Vil: And just why have you gathered us here?
Leona: There’s somethin’ I wanna discuss with ya’ll.
Lilia: If it’s really that important, wouldn’t it have made more sense for you to come to us, instead?
Vil: Goodness. If Jack hadn’t come to fetch us, I would have kept on ignoring your summons.
Grim: What he said!
Yuu: G-Good afternoon…
Leona: …Hold it. Why’re Grim and Yuu here?
Jack: I ran into them when I went to get Vil Senpai and Lilia Senpai, and they tagged along on their own.
Grim: Anywhere there’s lots of people gathered together, there’s bound to be lots of tasty food!
Jack: First time I ever heard that.
Leona: You two are just gonna get in the way. Buzz off already.
Vil: Forget them and hurry up and tell us what’s going on, Leona. We’ll go ahead and leave if you don’t start talking.
Leona: Alright, alright. Sounds like you just can’t wait to hear this, huh. Well, it ain’t nothin’ bad or anything. I’d just like to humbly invite my dear school friends to come visit my homeland with me, is all.
Jack: Huh? Your homeland… You mean Sunset Savannah?
Leona: Yup. They’ll be having Tamashina-Mina this weekend in the royal capital, Sunrise City
Grim: Tamashi….Mui…
Leona: Tamashina-Mina. It means “Gift from the Heavens”. Basically, it’s a festival where we all pray for rain. We hold it every year around this time, right before the rainy season starts.
Lilia: Oh, my. I’ve heard of that festival before, but I’ve never seen it for myself. It always sounded like such a fun occasion!
Jack: I’m guessing you’re going back home to take part in the festival, Leona Senpai?
Vil: And you’re inviting us to come along? …I smell something fishy. What’s your end goal here?
Leona: Thanks for makin’ this quick for me. The reason I’m invitin’ ya is because of… Catch the Tail.
Vil: Catch the Tail? I’ve never heard of that before.
Jack: Me neither. The heck is that?
Leona: It’s the name of this competition that takes place during the festival, where you gotta try an' grab some beads off your opponent's head before they nab yours. Magic and weapons are a no-go… It’s a pure test of your physical strength.
Jack: Oh yeah? Sounds pretty interesting.
Leona: There’s three players per team, and 16 teams in all compete together in a tournament. It’s pretty much the highlight of Tamashina-Mina. Even the king of Sunset Savannah and a bunch of guests from all over the world come to watch.
Grim: Then I bet the prize must be somethin’ awesome, right….? Like a year’s supply of tuna cans!?
Leona: Of course, there’s gonna be lots of prizes to go around… Is what I’d like to say, but unfortunately there ain’t any prizes or cash money up for grabs.
Grim: ...Lame.
Leona: Regardless, every year we get tons of people wantin’ to compete. And the reason is… The members of the winning team become Sunset Warriors.
Episode 1-2
Vil: Sunset Warriors…. I hadn’t expected to learn so many new words today.
Leona: It’s ‘cause all this stuff has been around for a long time and the lingo hasn’t changed. Listen, I’m fed up with everything, too, so don’t come complainin’ to me about it. The Sunset Warriors are a team of guardians that protect the country and support the king and queen.
Lilia: Oh? Something like… an imperial guard?
Leona: Originally, yeah. But now that we’re in times of peace, a job like that really doesn’t matter anymore. Nowadays, it’s more-or-less just an honorary title that’s given to the winning team.
Lilia: Well, that’s good, isn’t it? You could say that the title itself is a symbol of the peaceful times we now live in.
Leona: If you’re tryin' to put it as nicely as you can, sure. The job itself is long gone, but what hasn’t changed is that the title’s got a lot of prestige attached to it. Every year, highly skilled competitors from all over the country come down to take part in the tournament.
Jack: Gotcha… So in order to become a Sunset Warrior, you’re also going to compete in Catch the Tail!?
Leona: Nah, I ain’t gonna compete… Well, more like I ain’t even allowed to.
Vil: What do you mean?
Leona: It’s tradition for the younger brother of the heir to the throne to become the leader of the Sunset Warriors. And right now, that’s me.
Lilia: I see. So in other words, you’re already the leader of the Sunset Warriors. And since that isn't going to change anytime soon, then it makes sense you wouldn’t be permitted to compete in a game where the rest of the group members are chosen.
Leona: Yeah. And the leader has this friggin’ annoyin’ duty called “The Lessons of the Guardian”. I have to teach the other Warriors the understanding, good sense, and etiquette needed to protect both the monarch and the kingdom.
Vil: Understanding?
Lilia: Good sense?
Jack: Etiquette?
Grim: You have to teach people all that, Leona?
Everyone: ….Pfft. Ahahahhahah!
Grim: Nyahaha! They sure picked the wrong guy for that!
Jack: Ahahaha…. Ah! S-Sorry, Leona Senpai!
Leona: Hmph. Just as ya’ll have kindly pointed out, O Wise Ones, someone as rough around the edges as me just ain’t cut out for a gig like this. That’s why I’m trying to get out of it, no matter what it takes. Last year, I pretended like I accidentally forgot all about the festival and didn’t go home. And that’s what I’d been plannin’ to do this year, too. But this morning…. They called me up to remind me about it. There’s no tellin’ what they’ll do if I don’t agree to come back home now. I was thinkin’ I might as well throw in the towel and stop tryin' to swindle ‘em, but…
Lilia: But you really don’t want to have to go home and do this whole “Lessons of the Guardian” thing, do you?
Vil: Amazing. You can’t even do what’s required of you?
Leona: Hey, you have no idea just how long and annoying those stupid lessons are. So zip it. Anyways, that’s why I singled out you three to take with me.
Jack: Huh? You don’t mean…
Leona: Yup. I’m gonna have ya’ll win Catch the Tail for me. If a bunch of students from Night Raven College end up winning, all we gotta do is get our stories straight and pretend we finished doin’ the “Lessons of the Guardian”.
Everyone: He’s way too cunning!!!!
Yuu: What a sly guy…
Leona: Nah, it’s called bein’ clever. I hate doin’ pointless stuff.
Jack: Are we even allowed to compete? We’re not from Sunset Savannah or anything.
Leona: It ain’t a problem. People from all over can compete. Somethin’ about how anybody has the potential to become a guardian or whatever. It’s actually a pretty respectable policy, not what I’d expect from my country. There’s been plenty of foreigners and sightseers who’ve taken part over the years, so don’t worry about it. If a team of students from the famous Night Raven College compete, I’m sure the spectators will go wild.
Jack: Alright.
Leona: Jack, there’s not many guys at this school who can beat ya when it comes to physical strength. …But ya know, the people that’ll be competin’ are all pros at this stuff. What do ya think? Sounds interesting, right?
Jack: So I’ll get to put my strength to the test, huh. …Yeah, sure sounds like fun. I honestly still don’t get this whole “Sunset Warrior” stuff, but the competition sounds right up my alley. I’d love to see how far my strength will take me, going up against all those seasoned fighters!
Leona: Good. This is an important job, you hear. Next up, we got this old coot who’s always poppin’ up where ya least expect him. The way you can move around, it’s super-human. You’re friggin’ weird, alright? I honestly loathe teamin’ up with ya, but I’ll at least acknowledge your physical skills.
Lilia: Kufufu…. Leona, you really shouldn’t compliment me so unabashedly like that. I’ll get embarrassed, you know. But I must say, I feel that Malleus would also be a good fit for what you’re looking for. You sure you don’t want to invite him? I have no doubt he’d be delighted if you did. How about I go ask him right now? Shall I?
Leona: Quit it!!! No way in hell I’d ever ask that horned jackass for any favors. I’m invitin' you instead, and I’m damn sure you understand that already!
Lilia: Ah… That’s too bad, but I guess it can’t be helped. This Catch the Tail game sounds like it will be a lot of fun, and I’m sure we’ll all look back on this experience fondly someday. I’ll be delighted to take part.
Leona: Why didn’t ya just say that in the first place then? When we get back, be sure you brag to Malleus all about the amazing trip you had an’ make him nice and jealous.
Episode 1-3
Grim: And the last person you invited is Vil. I bet he’ll be of some use. Not as much as me, of course.
Jack: Vil Senpai always makes sure to keep up with his training regiment. He’s a great choice.
Lilia: And with that wonderful fighting spirit of his, he’d make a splendid combatant.
Leona: I mean, you’re not wrong. But the deciding factor for me was… There’s tons of strong guys at this school, but they’re all stubborn boneheads.
Jack: You’re right.
Lilia: I’m not sure you’ve got room to talk, Jack.
Leona: With that in mind, Vil’s a dorm warden who’s got a good head on his shoulders. Besides, me an’ him have been super close pals ever since we started goin’ to school together.
Vil: Eww…. You said that with absolutely zero emotion. Basically, you picked me because you know I wouldn’t subject you to any meaningless drivel, is that right? Well, I refuse. You won’t get me to play along for such a crude reason like that. If you’d like to take another third year with you, how about Rook?
Leona: Not in a hundred years…. Come on. I’m countin’ on ya, Vil.
Vil: Oh? I wasn’t aware you were a fan of mine, Leona. All you have to do is teach the “Lessons of the Guardian” to the tournament winners, right? I don’t really understand why I need to take part in this Catch the Tail thing? Go ask someone else. I’ll be excusing myself now.
Leona: You sure about that? You’re gonna regret it if you don’t stick around to hear the rest of my proposal.
Vil: And what is it?
Leona: Since you’re into beauty and stuff, I’m sure you know about that place called Elephant Legacy, right?
Vil: …..Of course I do.
Jack: Elephant Legacy? Never heard of it.
Grim: Is it someplace that Vil would be interested in?
Leona: It’s a barren land where the sun don’t ever shine. It’s filled with volcanoes that spew hot air into the sky, and there’s a gorge that cuts through the area. It used to be called the Elephant Graveyard, and it was a lawless land where even the king’s power couldn’t reach. And now it’s a….
Jack / Grim: *Gulp*
Leona: Hot spring resort.
Jack / Grim: Hot spring!? Resort!?
Leona: Yup. With all those gushing geysers and that magnificent scenery, not to mention the specialty goods they make usin’ geothermal energy, it’s become the foremost sightseein' destination in the whole country. …Well, I say “foremost” destination, but it ain’t like there’s really many others you can count.
Lilia: I’ve been there before. I found it a very enjoyable location.
Vil: Both the mineral water sold at Elephant Legacy, as well as the mud from the hot springs, are reputed to be great for your skin. …I-I would like to go there, but I’d rather go on my own. It’d be much more enjoyable than going with you.
Leona: That’s only if ya could go without me.
Vil: …What?
Leona: If you’re willin’ to participate in the Catch the Tail competition for me… I’ll personally take ya to this special location at Elephant Legacy that only members of the royal family are allowed to access.
Vil: HUH!?
Leona: If ya went to the hot springs on your own, you’d never be able to get to this location without me. And of course, that spot is guaranteed to be good for your beauty or whatever. If ya pass up on this opportunity, you won’t ever get to go there for the rest of your life.
Jack: Wow. No matter how you look at it, there’s no way Vil Senpai’s gonna be able to turn him down now…!
Lilia: Now I understand. Since he had such a powerful card up his sleeve, that’s why he went ahead and invited Vil.
Vil: You really are a sly man, proposing something like that to me. ...Fine. I'm hereby reserving a spot on Producer Leona’s Sunset Savanna Sight Seeing Tour. In exchange, you need to do your job and show us around properly. Okay, Mr. Tour Guide?
Leona: Uh-huh. I’ll be the best darn escort you ever had.
Grim: A festival in Sunset Savannah, huh… Sounds like it’s gonna be a lot of fun.
Yuu: I wonder if they’ll be serving lots of good food!
Grim: No doubt about it! Leona! We’ll come along, too!
Leona: And just who do ya think is gonna take ya?
Grim: What!?
Leona: Ain’t no way you guys are up to snuff for Catch the Tail.
Grim: Hey, no worries! The heck would I wanna join in on some annoying competition? All I’m gonna be doing is stuffing my face with tasty grub!
Leona: …And now there’s even less of a reason for me to take ya’ll.
Grim: But why!! TAKE US WITH YOU! TAKE US WITH YOOU! TAKE UUUUSSS!!!
Leona: Shut up, furball!
Lilia: Why not let them come along, Leona? The more traveling buddies, the merrier.
Leona: Bringing along a couple of dead weights is just gonna be a pain in the neck.
Jack: Grim’s rolling around on the floor making a fuss, but… What about you, Yuu?
Yuu: I’d love to go, if I could…!
Lilia: You see, Leona? I think you should stop being so miserly and let them come. If we go on this trip together with everyone…. Then we’ll be able to create a lot of fun memories together.
Leona: And I’m telling you, we ain’t goin’ there for fun and games.
Lilia: Such a cold-hearted man! Then maybe I’ll stay behind, too, and we can have a party at Ramshackle Dorm.
Leona: Tsch. I know exactly what you’re up do. Okay, fine. They can come be our team support or whatever.
Yuu: We’ll give it our best!
Leona: Oi. I’ll be countin’ on ya, so you better make sure this furball here doesn’t go and cause me any trouble. You got it?
Episode 1-4 (The weekend)
Grim: Ah, it’s Vil. Howdy!
Vil: Good morning, Grim and Yuu. You two are both headed towards the Mirror Chamber, I presume? Let’s go together.
Yuu: We’ll probably get there pretty early, huh.
Vil: Of course. Punctuality is everything in showbiz, you know. People who arrive late on set never get very far in the industry. Oh? You’re bringing the Ghost Camera with you, I see.
Grim: Uh-huh! We’re gonna take lots of pics of all the yummy food we eat there.
Vil: Please do be sure to get a picture of us winning Catch the Tail, alright?
Jack: Good morning, Vil Senpai! Ah, and there’s Grim and Yuu.
Vil: Good morning, Jack. You’re here early.
Jack: Yeah, I didn’t want to keep my Senpai waiting.
Lilia: Oh, is everyone here already? Good morning!
Vil: Morning, Lilia. ….Why are you wearing your PE uniform?
Lilia: I don’t do very well with direct sunlight, so I picked out a comfortable outfit for the trip. Looky here, I also packed a parasol and a handheld fan.
Jack: I figured it would be best to wear something respectable, so that’s why I came wearing my school uniform… I wonder if that was the wrong choice.
Vil: No, you made the right choice based on the time, place, and occasion. We’ll be accompanying a member of the royal family to his homeland, after all.
Lilia: I’m a seasoned traveler, so I’m exercising the utmost caution here. I also made sure to let Malleus know how to reach me in case of an emergency, since he has to stay behind at the dorm.
Vil: Sounds like you’ve got all your bases covered, then.
Lilia: Kufufu. Just who do you take me for? I’m a professional solo traveler, you know. Before I enrolled at the school I went traveling alone all over the world, so this is nothing new for me. But this time, I promised to take plenty of photos while on our trip. I hope you boys will help me out with that.
Yuu: Let’s take lots of pictures together!
Lilia: That’s the spirit. Ah, this is why traveling is so much fun! Is Leona still not here yet? It’s about the time we’d agreed to meet.
Jack: Not yet. When I knocked on his door this morning he answered me, so I thought he was awake. But…
Grim: Knowing that slacker, he probably went right back to sleep.
Vil: Even though we’re all going on this trip because of him…
Leona: *Yaaawn*….
Jack: Good morning, Leona Senpai!
Leona: ‘Sup. Is everyone here?
Jack: Yes! All accounted for.
Vil: Once we get there, will the tournament be starting right away?
Leona: Nah, the festival is starting today, and the tournament will begin tomorrow. Today, you guys are gonna use the tournament arena and get some practice in.
Lilia: So we’ll at least have time to get down the basics, then. That’s a relief.
Vil: And we’ll also have plenty of time to stop by Elephant Legacy, correct?
Leona: You don’t even gotta ask. I made us arrangements and everything. Alright, let’s get goin’.
???: Huh?
Kalim: What’re you guys all doing here?
Leona: Kalim… The heck are you doin’ in the Mirror Chamber?
Lilia: Well, isn’t this a coincidence. Good morning, Kalim.
Kalim: Oh, hey! Good morning, Lilia! And good morning, everyone else!!!
Vil: Since you’re in the Mirror Chamber, I take it you’re planning to go somewhere?
Kalim: Yup! I’m going to Sunset Savannah!
Leona: What…!?
Everyone: !!!
Kalim: Wait a sec! Since Leona’s here, are you guys maybe all going to Tamashina-Mina, too?
Leona: “Too?” So that means… It’s just what I was thinkin’.
Vil (whispering to Leona): Leona, did you also invite Kalim?
Leona (whispering to Vil): Don’t make me laugh. You need brains and brawn if you wanna compete in Catch the Tail. There’s no way a sheltered bub like Kalim would stand a fightin’ chance.
Lilia: Kalim. Who invited you to go to Tamashina-Mina?
Kalim: The royal family of Sunset Savannah.
Jack: The royal family?
Leona: Every year, important folks from all over the world get invited as guests of the state. Figures they would also reach out to the son of a top merchant from Scalding Sands.
Vil: Were you not aware he’d been invited?
Leona: It’s bad enough I have to go back home, no way I’d go waste my time lookin’ through the friggin’ guest list.
Grim: Hm? Hey… I don’t see Jamil anywhere?
Kalim: Jamil went on ahead to Sunset Savannah already. There’s lots of other staff members from back home that are coming along, and he was saying they’d be meeting with the people in charge of the festival. It sounded like they have a lot of stuff to do, like going over what’ll happen during the ceremony, and organizing the security and everything.
Lilia: Oh, my! Even just going to a festival is quite the serious matter for you, it appears.
Jack: We’ll be competing in Catch the Tail.
Kalim: Woah. Catch the Tail is that tournament they have during Tamashina-Mina, right? Good luck, you guys! I’ll be cheering you on from the stands!
Jack: Heh. We’ll be counting on ya!
Leona: Enough with the chit chat. Let’s go.
Episode 2 (Part 1)
Episode 2 (Part 2)
Episode 3 (Part 1)
Episode 3 (Part 2)
Episode 3 (Part 3)
Episode 4 (Part 1)
Episode 4 (Part 2)
Episode 5
#leona kingscholar#lilia vanrouge#vil schoenheit#jack howl#kalim al asim#twst spoilers#twisted wonderland#twst#my tl#tamashina-mina
718 notes
·
View notes
Text
Apple of my eye;🍎
Bonnibel Hayes, Farnbury's resident granddaughter
childhood, present day, innerworkings, appearance, & artwork
NOTHING BUT THE REPLAY; Childhood
♡ Bonnibel Hayes was born and raised in San Francisco, California. Every summer, she was sent to visit her grandparent's apple orchard in Farnbury, Alabama
♡ But Bonnie is haunted. Literally and metaphorically. The orchard skirted around that mysterious forest. Being the only child nearby, the ghosts of the forest clung to her throughout her adolescence
♡ Some ghosts were sweet to her. Singing lullabies and swiftly closing her windows on cold nights. But most were cruel, having been victims to that thing residing in the woods. Some nights, she'd wake up to a mangled corpse looming over her and an intense pressure against her throat. She began to deteriorate.
♡ Only days after her 10th birthday, Bonnie had been several nights without sleep and days without food. The ghosts that wrecked her body urged her to the forest
♡ Grabbing her papa's trusty hunting rifle, that sick little girl stumbled into the forest. She swung the gun around, screaming and begging to be relieved of these ghosts, until she was silenced by a woman as ill as herself
♡ Bonnibel's cries couldn't compare to her wails. Not even when the slender-sick woman charged at the little girl, tackling her to the ground and blasting obscenities. Bonnie couldn't beat her screams
♡ What was Bonnie expected to do? Thrown to the floor like that, gun in arms and barrel pressed into the woman's gut? Frail fingers reached for the trigger, and...
♡ Bonnibel found herself at a water pump that night. Rusty and red, she put her whole weight just to fill that bucket of icy water and dump it over herself. Scrubbed at her white dress, stained with guilt and sin. Picked the dry blood beneath her nails and prayed it would all melt away
♡ Not even a week later, Bonnie was on a flight back home. She didn't return to Farnbury for five years
♡ She didn't seem to get it. Five years later, she went back into that forest and put her friends at risk
WASTE OF A GIRL; Present day
♡ Bonnie's aunt, and grandparents main caretaker, went missing in October 2007. Consequently, in January 2008, Bonnie moved to help around the orchard and her aunt's "Apple Antiques" shop
♡ She starts as the only employee, working from 9:30-4pm Monday-Thursday
♡ The ghosts still follow her around, but after a long absence, they don't harass her so much. But long, bony fingers still linger down her spine
♡ She didn't get involved with that damn investigation until she realized all of these people were experiencing the same things as her. Maybe in different ways, but the relief she felt knowing that maybe, just maybe, they can get rid of their problems together
♡ She gets almost pushy about it. She'll send texts, ask to hang out, constantly bring the monster up. It's not until a month or so goes by and she realizes she just likes to be around this crowd
♡ Bonnie melts into Summer. Basks in the sunlight and adores the new friends she made. Things are starting to get better, and this is the first Summer in a long time that she thinks it's going to be okay
♡ She couldn't imagine anything going wrong, not when all her friends want to get better, too
LEAVING ALL THE LIGHTS ON; Innerworkings
♡ Bonnibel's nice, to put it simply
♡ Catch her in the right group, and she's bubbly beyond belief - filled with giggles and shakes and joy
♡ By choice, she is an optimist full of life. Against her will, she's usually in a bit of a daze. Her nerves run wild and awkwardness infects her. It's like she's in a trance. Hypnotized and wondering what to do next
♡ Bonnie is rotting from the inside out with guilt.
♡ She's stubborn and often frustrated, but any form of consequence has her quietly subsiding. She'll complain to her grandma, though
♡ She's regrettably Type-A, with a longing to be Type-B. She tries to practice patience, relaxation, and flexibility, but her ambition, anxiety, and stress-levels make it difficult
♡ Bonnie feels like awful things are an inherent part of her being. Bad luck and ghosts have rooted themselves inside of her, but the second she catches a sliver of light, she clings to it
♡ Bonnibel loves life. She loves joy, and friendship, and green grass, and blue skies, and warm brownies, and soft cats, and antique furniture, and vintage clothes, and smile lines, and all things good
♡ She just wants to enjoy everything. If an opportunity presents itself, she's chasing it
♡ Right now, that opportunity is this strange group
SICK OF ALL THE NOTHING ON YOUR FACE; Appearance
♡ Bonnibel stands at 5'1. Her shoulders are pushed back, but her chin is brought down. She poorly feigns confidence with her posture, until you notice anxious fingers picking at the hem of her clothes
♡ Bright, ginger waves cascade to the small of her back. Bangs awkwardly frame her round face and do nothing to hide foggy, blue stares
♡ Her skin is almost translucent and ghostly, with visible veins wrapping all along her body. She's spotted with freckles and brown moles. Her digits are always blushed and icy
♡ Voice like sugar. Grainy, but sweet. She's excitable and stammers her sentences out
♡ She's usually dressed in neutrals. Browns, whites, blacks & denim, lace, and leather. Baggy jackets and flannels, miniskirts and crop tops, boots and nylons.
THE EXTENT OF ALL MY WORTHLESS RAGE; artwork
#bonnibel hayes#creepedverse#crv#creepypasta oc#sweetart#bonnie crv#crv bonnie#creepypasta au#crp au#crp oc#i am literally never nervous posting my art until its bonnie#literally shaking n trembling n kicking my feet HAHA
51 notes
·
View notes
Note
for the prompts! 9&13 combined 👀👀
(From this post) (also here's the last one I did).
Castiel had escaped to the empty kitchen at the earliest opportunity as soon as the number of people in the map room had exceeded 8. He doesn't mind crowds, he quite likes them outside - the warm, hurried rush of humanity is quite endearing - but he'd become accustomed to there being a maximum of 4 in the Bunker, including him, so it feels almost claustrophobic to have more, even somewhere as large as this.
He's not surprised that Dean came to find him two hours in, though he is a little surprised that it took him so long.
"There's just so many of them," Dean complains, a little muffled against Cas's shirt, "I think the fuckers are multiplying. I turn around, there's two of them, I look again, there's five."
"The creation of a new prophet is a cosmic event. I certainly would have noticed," Cas says, mildly. He strokes soothingly down Dean's back with one hand, and takes a sip of coffee with the other. Dean grumbles and blindly pushes the coffee mug away from his head when it brushes against him, squeezing into Cas tighter with the strong arms around his waist.
"How many prophets does one god need? There's not that much interesting stuff that happens in the world. And more importantly, why the hell do they have to come here?"
"You invited them."
"Kevin invited them!"
"Because you told him to."
"Well, the kid needs more friends! He can't just hang out with you, me, Sam and Garth for the rest of his life. Anyway, it's definitely working out, I haven't even seen him for over an hour."
"I think he went to his room."
"What?" Dean pulls his head back from his embrace, appalled.
"He said he wasn't feeling up to it."
Actually, he'd muttered stupid Dean, stupid Bunker, stupid prophets, I wish none of them had ever been born, fuck my life, this is the Andover middle school dance all over again as he'd loaded his arms with chips and stormed out of the kitchen in the opposite direction to the gathering, but Castiel's powers of extrapolation had been improving over recent years.
"Then who the hell is this party for?" Dean complains, but he doesn't resist when Cas pulls him back to his nuzzled in position. He likes having Dean here, choosing his company as the antidote to others. Dean belongs in any place that brings him comfort, and Cas is lucky that in his arms is where Dean frequently finds it.
"It appears to be for 47 strangers who are better at getting along than we are." Then he tips his head. "48."
"What?" Dean squawks, pushing back from Cas's chest with alarm.
"They're multiplying."
Dean laughs, "You're an asshole."
Cas agrees with a hum. "You like that about me."
"Sure do. Get over here."
Dean's kiss is lingering, sweet and tender, and Cas's chest glows with it. It takes a second for Cas to open his eyes after, and he's treated to Dean's warm, relaxed grin.
"I guess I better go get rid of them so we can all stop hiding, huh?"
"That would be wise," Cas agrees, but tugs onto Dean's outer shirt when he starts to turn, "You've got..."
He smooths fixes the front of Dean's hair where it'd got smooshed in his impromptu snuggles with gentle fingers, then brushes his thumb over Dean's eye crinkles with affection on the way down from it, since he was in the area. The warmth in Dean's gaze when Cas meets his eyes again cannot be overstated, matched only by the feeling in Cas's own heart. He gets kissed again, and would've been happy to continue that way all through the party, but then there's a crashing noise from the direction of the war room, followed by laughter, which wrenches Dean's attention away.
"That's it," Dean says, untucking his gun from the back of his jeans, "I'm clearing house. Two minutes, tops, and we're free and clear."
Cas wishes him luck as he , and 30 seconds later there's the sound of a gunshot and Dean's voice authoritatively saying "Y'all better haul ass out of my house right now or the next one's hitting a body!", then the desperate scrambling of 47 people scrambling out of a single door.
In 30 seconds less than Dean's suggested timeframe, the place is empty but for its regular inhabitants again. Cas smiles into his coffee cup. They don't need anyone else to be happy.
@hauntedpearl hi Doe!!!! thank you for the prompts!! which were: Pressing their face into the other's neck, hiding from the world and brushing away an unruly lock of hair. I had been working on a Jo/Bela for this one but it wasn't working, and this one suddenly came to me in a vision this morning. So sappy. They love each otherrrrr. PS Sam's hiding in the armory lol. Not one of them likes big parties.
#deancas ficlet#destiel#I lorve them#gun violence#(< just in case. Dean doesn't actually shoot anyone lol.)#cawis creates
17 notes
·
View notes
Text
Weekend WIP Game
Thanks for the tag @welcometololaland 💕
Rules: List your WIPs below (if you only write one fic at a time, feel free to include future WIPs/ideas!) then answer the following questions. Then, tag as many people as you have WIPs (or more). (There are also questions for artists/GIF creators below).
For Writers
1. WIP List:
Ex Fic (tentatively titled “You and Your Sensational Soul”): TK, Carlos & Owen go to see TK’s ex’s band play when his tour rolls through Austin. Set during the fiancé era between seasons 3 & 4.
TK Strand’s Day Off: exactly what it sounds like, it’s going to be a 5+1 five things TK does on his day off, mostly building it around the paddle boarding with Buttercup scene and this line from Call Me If You Get Lost (as requested by @carlos-in-glasses in the comments of that fic): “So far TK plans to sleep in, arms and legs wrapped around Carlos like an octopus in a forced cuddle, hopefully have lots of lazy sex and maybe catch up on the new season of Emily in Paris.”
Tarlos’s Day At The Gym: exactly what it sounds like! Carlos does free weights with some buddies from work, TK takes a barre class and reminisces over the time Carlos took a class with him and just …could not hang. Carlos reminisces over a time he wouldn’t have felt comfortable coming to the gym with his boyfriend and kissing him when they go their separate ways in the locker room. TK sits in the sauna naked and Carlos loses his mind.
West Wing AU: Carlos works in the White House, TK is an embedded war reporter who’s called back to the states and has to fill in at the White House press corps while his colleague is on maternity leave. He thinks reporting on domestic politics is SO BORING, and he complains to Carlos about it loudly. But. They fall in love. There could be a scandal on both sides if it gets out. What will happen? Will TK go back to being embedded? Will he stay in DC for Carlos? Will Carlos follow him off on his next adventure? I DON’T KNOW LET’S FIND OUT!!
9-1-1 emergency fic: that’s all I’ll say
TK & Paul Buddy cop fic
CHRISTMAS FIC!!!
2. Which of your WIPs is currently the longest?
Ex Fic, I think it’s about halfway done
3. Which WIP do you expect will end up the longest?
Probably the West Wing AU
4. Which WIP is your favourite to write/the most enjoyable to write? Why?
I’m only actively working on Ex Fic right now, and that one is really enjoyable because it’s part of my music series. Music is my biggest passion in life and the thing I get the most joy from, so writing about it and sharing aspects of what I love about it with you all is so fun!
5. Which WIP do you find the most intimidating to write? Why?
The West Wing AU!!! I have never written an AU before and I’m scared.
6. Which WIP do you experience the most self-doubt about. Why?
Probably the emergency wip because I have to kind of know what I’m talking about and make it exciting like the show.
7. Which of your WIPs will you seek out a beta/sensitivity reader for? Why?
I typically have all my stories beta read unless they’re 2k or less. I will likely have the West Wing AU sensitivity read depending on where I have TK embedded.
8. Have any of your WIPs been struck by the curse of writer's block?
Yes!! TK Strand’s Day Off! I wrote the paddle boarding scene months ago and I just. It’s not coming to me. But it will!
9. Which WIP has your favourite OC? Tell us about them?
Okay, I think it’s gotta be TK’s ex Felix from Ex Fic. He’s a musician, he’s a producer and a DJ. They didn’t break up for any nefarious reasons, he was an exchange student at NYU’s music program when TK was in the fire academy. They had fun together, but they always knew Felix was going home (to Germany) so. It was sweet but short, and he’s one of TK’s only exes that treated him well. So Carlos can’t even hate him 😂
10. Which WIP is the sexiest?
Well there is a (Lemon style) sexytimes scene in Ex Fic so probably that one atm. However, TK Strand’s Day Off is definitely gonna require some sleepy morning sex, yeah?
11. Which WIP is the angstiest?
Probably West Wing. Maybe the gym fic depending on how heavy I get with Carlos thinking about how he never felt comfortable holding a man’s hand at the gym before. We’ll see!!
12. Which WIP has the best characterisation (in your humble opinion)?
Ex Fic if only because it’s the only one that’s written 😂 I think my Owen characterization is really good tho
13. Which WIP has the best scene setting (in your humble opinion)?
Ex Fic bc it’s the most written
14. Which WIP have you worked the hardest on?
Ex Fic fic for sure
15. Which WIP do you have the highest expectations for? Why?
This is a tough question, I think I always set pretty high expectations for myself and my fics. But I feel really good about Ex Fic because my fics centered around music have been some of my most well received.
16. Do you dream about any of your WIPs?
Not that I can remember
17. Do any of your WIPs have particular complexities that your other fics don't?
I think the emergency fic will for sure. And the TK & Paul buddy cop because it’s gonna be a screwball comedy so I’ll really have to nail the jokes.
18. Which WIP is the funniest or has the most humour?
TK & Paul Buddy Cop for sure. Carlos is going to be so exasperated.
19. Do any of your WIPs contain outside POVs or a deep dive on a character other than the main ship? How are you finding that process?
I think Ex Fic is going to involve a lot of Owen, and it’s from Carlos’s POV so I guess we can consider it an outside POV of TK’s relationship with Owen. I always love exploring that relationship and especially from Carlos’s POV because we know how much he respects Owen and values his opinion. So seeing Owen being fond of one of TK’s exes is really gonna throw him for a minute.
20. Tell us one thing we don't know about one or more of your WIPs.
In the emergency fic TK and Carlos will have to team up to save Andrea
TK & Paul Buddy Cop is not an AU
Christmas Fic will be more TK & Marj friendship
Tagging (for artists/gifmakers here’s the original post with the questionnaire for artists!) @thisbuildinghasfeelings @heartstringsduet @alrightbuckaroo @bonheur-cafe @louis-ii-reyes-strand @carlos-in-glasses @carlos-tk @chicgeekgirl89 @tarlosmalec @herefortarlos @tellmegoodbye @ambiguouspenny @guardian-angle22 @fckingyrs @ladytessa74 @birdclowns @whatsintheboxmh @iboatedhere @your-catfish-friend @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @liminalmemories21 @lightningboltreader @rmd-writes @thebumblecee @chaotictarlos @theghostofashton @never-blooms @freneticfloetry and OPEN TAG 🏷️
32 notes
·
View notes
Text
Chapter One (Part 2)
Back at the house, Shane’s mother Caroline is pulling rocket out of the vegetable patch. She complains all the time about having planted it without realising how invasive it is and how it would choke and overcrowd her shallots. Beside her is a growing pile of herbs, some of which she will offer to me before I go home, and I’ll take it knowing that my parents don’t know how to cook with things like rocket.
“Well,” She says to me with the sun in her eyes. “How did you get on?”
“Horrible.” I say. “I thought I’d be sick.”
“Great to get back into the swing of things again.” She says. “Sure you’ll be flying up and down those fields again in no time.”
“I hope so.” Down the garden Claire is lying serenely in the sun next to a flourishing bed of summer flowers. When I go over to her she squints up at me and says “You’re a bit sweaty.”
“Yes I know.” I say, and I lie down beside her with my arms and legs spread eagle and close my eyes against the warmth of the sun.
“This is why I don’t do things like running.” She says. “I can’t stand the feeling of exertion.”
“I can’t imagine you sweating.”
“‘Cause I don’t do that.”
Shane is toeing a football around the grass nearby with Rosie snapping at his feet. I can’t fathom how he has the energy. “If I’d it my way you’d be out of bed at six, running up and down the park with me.” He tells her.
“I’d never do a thing like that in my life.”
“Evie will though, won’t you?”
I sigh. “I suppose.” We have a plan in place to get me fit again once we go back to college in a few weeks, and now that Shane is moving to Portobello it means he’ll only be a five minute cycle from our apartment. When it’s time for our run he can just come and get me. The thought is ominous, but not half as ominous as the thought of heading back to Dublin after the summer, even if I won’t be in the NCAD building much this year.
There isn’t much that stands out from second year. It passed me by in a haze, and all that I really did was work and study, eat and sleep. I chose to specialise in illustration, just like I said I would, and I enjoyed it, but it really just became my life, and once again I fell into the role of the quiet girl in the back of the classroom, never all that willing to participate in pub nights with the others. I went home and drew all evening instead, sometimes hanging out with Jaz and Serena when they were over, but apart from that it was quiet. I didn’t want any new people in my life.
Marnie specialised in graphic design, Dean in painting, and we never spoke except for the time that she said something to me in the canteen about liking my hair. I didn’t say anything back to her and then she never tried to talk to me again. They don’t talk to each other anymore either, but I don’t care about what happened. I saw Dean in the hallways once or twice, and out in the yard with some girl who I almost felt like warning about him, but then chose not to risk getting tangled up in his rotten web again. I hope that she will be smarter than I was. I decided to take an optional extra year and do an internship, but they did not, and so next May they will graduate without me and I’ll never have to see them again.
“Are you excited for your internship thingy?” Claire asks me, somehow following my train of thoughts to the same point, and I tell her that I am. “I’m scared too though.” I admit. “I feel like I wouldn’t know how to act in a real work place with professionals.”
“You’ll be grand. You worked in that café before.”
“Yeah but a café is very different from a screen printing studio, I think probably anybody can pour an americano and put a bun on a plate. The people at the studio are going to be actual paid artists who design things and sell them.”
“But you are an actual artist.”
“Not yet.” I shift up to lean back on my elbows and watch Caroline busy at the beds still, the soft buzz of the honeybees in her hives fill the air with a pleasant, comfortable sort of ambience. “When I get paid for something I’ve done, I think then I can say that I am.”
“Hm.” She says. “Well then you can say it after you’ve painted that window later on this week.”
“Oh yeah.” I say, remembering the promise I made to my former manager to do some typography on the front window of the café. It’s the kind of thing I haven’t done before, but the idea of it feels so exciting that I feel I’d probably do it for no money at all, but the fifty euro he’s offering sounds enticing too.
“Here, what’s the name of that printing place you’re going to work?” Shane wants to know, and I tell him. “Mezzotint.”
He nods. “I think I know one of the lads that works there.”
“Really?” This incredibly culchie man and the amount of alternative social circles he seems to have a finger in never ceases to surprise me. Since when is he randomly hanging out with screenprinters?
“Yeah.” He says, kicking the football into the back wall of the long garden with a thwack. “Simon something. He’s hung out with me and my friends a few times now. Nice lad.”
“Is he a single lad?” Claire asks for my benefit, and I lightly thump her on the arm. She’s only teasing. She knows I’m firmly settled into being entirely romantically unavailable again. Safe limbo, married to myself, never looking at any boys.
“Wouldn’t say so.” Shane says. “I think he’s going out with one of the girls.”
“Oh no.” I say sarcastically, and take my phone out of my bum bag to check the time. “Anyway, I think it’s time I head off.”
“Aw, stay.” Claire says, but I show her that it’s almost five and she understands immediately. Kelly works with her dad, the head chef at a local hotel, every weekday until five. She’ll be home in about ten minutes and I don’t want to be anywhere near this garden when she is.
“Don’t forget the rocket.” Caroline tells me, and I don’t. I grab a generous handful from her and let myself out over the stile ladder.
“Same time tomorrow.” Shane yells after me.
“Ugh!” I yell back, and take off over the fields that lead me back towards town.
Beginning // Prev // Next
20 notes
·
View notes
Text
Followed My Fears All the Way Down
It was terrifying having so much of her happiness dependent on him, on the life they were building together.
-x-
This is a birthday present for my dear friend @ssa-sparks! I am forever grateful that this fandom brought me you. You make me laugh every day, put up with my nonsense and love my cat just as much as I do. You're without a doubt one of my favourite people on the entire planet, and I cannot wait to actually hang out in person sometime soon <3
I hope you enjoy this, it has all your favourite things - including, our idiots in love being in brief peril 😉
-x-
Words: 4k
Warnings: Canon typical violence/injury, mentions of blood, main character whump
Read over on Ao3, or below the cut
“Em, we need to go.”
She groans in response, checking herself over in the mirror one more time, and she hears Aaron chuckle as he walks into the ensuite of their hotel room. He wraps his arms around her, pulling her back against him as he kisses her temple, his eyes meeting hers in the mirror.
“Can we just stay in here?” she asks, placing her hands over his, linking their fingers together over her abdomen, “Sleep some more,” she raises her eyebrows suggestively, “maybe make out a little.”
Aaron chuckles again, “I thought you said this was the worst motel you’d ever been in,” he says, moving his hands to her hips as he turns her to face him, “Something about me being more comfortable than the bed.”
They’d been in a small town in Ohio for five days, and the whole team were getting frustrated at feeling like they were getting nowhere. All of them missing their homes and their families. Emily and Aaron were grateful that the team now knew about them, having come clean about their relationship just a month prior, because it meant they could openly share a room. In the four months since they first got together, they’d snuck into each other's rooms, leaving early in the morning so they wouldn’t get caught. Now they got to wake up together and get ready side by side as they did back home where they spent more and more of their time at his place.
She smiles, nodding as she wraps her arms around his neck, “I stand by it,” she leans in to kiss him, her lips quickly stamped against his, “I guess we’ll just have to solve this case and go home, your bed is much better than that piece of crap in there.”
He smiles at her, not addressing the fact that she’d just referred to his apartment as home before he kisses her once more before stepping back, “You ready to go?”
She nods in response and steps past him back into the bedroom, “At least if we are here another day or so I’ll get out of the event my mother is hosting this weekend.”
The mention of it makes him falter slightly. She’d been complaining about it for weeks, the mere thought of spending an evening with her mother, surrounded by people who said so much but talked so little, enough to make her go a little crazy. Which is why he had hesitated in telling her the very thing he was about to bring up.
“About that,” he says, stepping up behind her as she secures her gun and badge, “Your mother called me.”
She freezes, her body tensing as his words register, and she turns to look at him, one of her eyebrows raised, “What? When?”
“A couple of days ago,” he admits, clearing his throat as he watches her eyes widen, a humourless chuckle escaping her.
“You spoke to her a couple of days ago and you’re only just telling me?”
He blows out a breath, placing his hands on his hips, swallowing down the irritation that sparks in his belly.
“We’ve been busy.”
She scoffs, shaking her head at him, “We spend pretty much all of our time together, Aaron. Are you seriously telling me you haven’t had the chance to tell me you spoke to my mother?” She crosses her arms over her chest and clenches her jaw, the familiar defensiveness climbing up the back of her neck as it always did when her mother came up, “What did you even talk about?”
“He asked me if I was coming with you on Saturday,” he says, and she feels her mouth go dry, the white lie she’d told him weeks ago that she couldn’t have a plus one echoing around her head.
“Aaron-”
“Apparently you told her I was busy that night,” he cuts over her, his expression stern, his annoyance clear, “Which is funny, considering you told me I wasn’t invited.”
She sighs and closes her eyes, gathering herself for a moment before she looks back at him, “I didn’t want to expose you to that part of my life.”
“I’ve met your mother before.”
“But not as my boyfriend,” she replies, raising her voice a little more than she intends to. She blows out a steady breath, “She’s hard work, Aaron and…she always finds a way to belittle everything I do.”
Emily hates how adolescent it sounds, how her mother can still make her feel like this, even through Aaron, but she can’t help it. Defiance she thinks she will never outgrow spreading through her chest.
“I deal with sociopaths on a daily basis, Emily. I think I can handle your mother.”
On any other day, the comparison would make her smile, but she doesn’t understand how this has gone so south, why he seems so offended, “Aaron…what is the big deal? I’m sorry I lied, I know I should have just talked to you about it, but it’s not a problem. I probably won’t make it now anyway.”
Aaron sighs, and he wishes he’d never brought it up, that he’d waited until they were back in DC, but he hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since he’d spoken to Elizabeth. The insecurities that had been sparking in the back of his head since he’d first woken up next to Emily catching fire, every concern he had about their relationship suddenly bigger.
From the moment he’d kissed her it had confirmed what he’d known for years. That he loved her, that he had been in love with her for much longer than he cared to admit. For weeks he’d held it back, not wanting to spook her. Only whispering the words against her skin after she was asleep. She’d caught him out a couple of weeks ago, still awake as he murmured the words. She’d turned in his arms and asked him to repeat them, and smiled at him as he did. She’d kissed him and fallen asleep in his arms, her smile still present on her face.
It was only the following morning he realised she hadn’t said it back.
He’d tried again a couple of times since, and her response had always been similar. Something he wanted to believe was love shining in her eyes as she hugged or kissed him, an edge of desperation to it that he could never place.
“Maybe this all just means you’re not as serious about this as I am.”
Her mouth drops open and she scoffs, shaking her head at him, “Are you fucking kidding me?” She exclaims, “I’m not serious about us because I didn’t invite you to some shitty event my mother is hosting?” She throws her hands up in the air, her cheeks warm with the annoyance she can’t keep in her chest, “I practically live with you.”
“And yet you don’t want me to be a part of that part of your life?”
“It’s not that-”
“Then what is it?” He demands, his voice stern in a way it rarely was with her.
She doesn’t know how to put it into words, how to express to him that she felt like, no matter how he felt, she had to protect him from that part of her life. Even though he could handle himself it would give him an insight into something she didn’t want him to see. The part of herself she wishes she could give up entirely.
“I-”
There’s a knock at the door, and Derek’s voice follows it, “Sorry to interrupt, but we need to get going.”
Emily stares at Aaron momentarily before turning to the door, “We’re coming.”
“You can’t run away from this, Em,” Aaron says, and she freezes on the spot, clenching her hands at her sides.
“No,” she replies, flashing him a look, “I can’t, but we have work to do.” She opens the door and the cool air from the hallway hits her she walks out into it. She clenches her teeth, her jaw so tense she’s worried it could fracture, and she hears someone behind her clear their throat.
“Trouble in paradise?”
She turns to look at Derek, the playfulness slipping from his expression as their eyes meet, “Shut up, Derek.” She makes a point of bumping his shoulder with hers as she walks past him.
“Em, I was just kidding-”
“We have work to do,” she repeats, cutting over him as she continues to walk away, “The sooner we get it done the sooner we can go home.”
___
Things are tense between them all day.
Slightly barbed comments back and forth, the rest of the team exchanging concerned looks as they finally make progress with their case.
They track the unsub to an abandoned building just down the block from where the first victim had been found. She ends up in the SUV with just Aaron on the way to the scene, both of them silent and staring straight ahead, the weight of their crossed words that morning still heavy in the air.
When they arrive they both get out of the car and start securing their bullet-proof vests, and the usual concern she feels when they are about to walk into danger makes her stomach roll. Their jobs came with risks, they both knew that, but that risk seemed so much more significant since they’d got together,
“This guy is probably going to be hostile,” Emily says, looking at him as he velcros his vest into place. The other SUVs pull up behind them, and the rest of the team start to leave the cars.
“He’s devolving, but we’ll be careful,” he replies, smiling tightly at her as he pushes his earpiece in, and Emily does the same.
She winces as she immediately pulls her earpiece back out, feedback from her microphone still ringing in her head.
“Son of a bitch,” she says, drawing the attention of Aaron from next to her as the rest of the team approaches them, “My mic is broken.”
“Prentiss’s comms are down, so she’s with me,” Aaron explain to the others, making sure his earpiece was secure as he adjusts his bulletproof vest.
“I don’t need babysitting-”
“You’re with me,” he says firmly, cutting over her harshly. She tries to argue again but sees the fear brewing in his eyes. Concern for her peeking out from underneath his work persona and the annoyance he clearly still feels from their argument that morning.
“Ok,” she concedes, feeling the team's eyes burning into her, “I’m with you.”
The team splits up. She and Aaron take the top floor, Derek and Spencer the one below, and JJ and Dave the first floor.
She hears movement as they walk down the hallway, someone's poor attempts at being quiet echoing around them. Aaron looks back at her, and they have a silent conversation as he tilts his head towards the room they’d heard the noise coming from. He goes in the room first, and there's a beat of silence before all hell breaks loose.
Two gunshots happen almost simultaneously.
The unsubs bullet hits Aaron right in the centre of his vest, knocking him backwards into the wall. Emily’s bullet hits the unsub, killing him instantly before he falls to the ground.
“Shit,” she says, sighing as she holsters her gun, “He was more prepared than we thought we would be,” She says, and there is no reply, she turns to look at Aaron. He was still against the wall, his hand pressed into where she’d seen the bullet hit his vest, probably winded from the speed of the shot. “Are you ok?”
“Em…”
He pulls his hand away, and she feels dread flood her entire body as blood seeps out of the visible hole in the dark blue kevlar.
“Oh my god,” she exclaims as she makes it to his side, attempting to catch him as he slides to the floor. She hits the ground next to him, her hand pressing into his abdomen where the blood was pouring from. He groans in pain and she looks at him, her eyes meeting his, “You’re ok, honey, you’re ok,” she clears her throat, pressing down harder into the wound, “Aaron’s been hit we need help,” there’s silence, and she frowns, wondering why she doesn’t get a response.
“Your comms aren’t working,” he reminds her, his voice ragged, every breath full of effort and pain, “Mine have been knocked out.”
“Shit,” she says, looking around them, desperately wondering what to do, “They’ll have heard the shots,” she says, not sure which one of them she was trying to assure, “We need to get your vest off so we can put better pressure on the wound.”
He nods, and she pulls the velcro off, ignoring how her hands shake, how her vision goes blurry with tears she refuses to shed. He yells out in pain as she pulls the vest off of him, throwing it away without a second glance.
“I know it hurts, I’m sorry,” she says, pushing her hands firmly against the bullet wound, his shirt soaked with blood, “I’m sorry.”
“It’s ok,” he replies, and she shifts between looking at his face and the door they came through, hoping someone from the team would arrive to help them soon. She feels him touch her face, and she looks at him, the feeling of his fingers against her skin achingly familiar, “I love you, Emily. I-”
“We’re not doing this now,” she replies, leaning down to press her forehead against his for a second, kissing him briefly before she sits up a little straighter, the angle pulling at her neck, “We aren’t saying goodbye because you’re going to be ok.”
She feels the words she’s been pushing back for weeks aching to escape, but she doesn’t want it to be like this. She doesn’t want him to think that her love for him was nothing more than an admission made of fear.
“Em-”
“Prentiss, Hotch?”
She looks over to the door and sees Derek and Spencer rush through the door, their guns lowered as they see the unsub on the floor behind them.
“Aaron got hit,” she says, her voice surprisingly steady as Derek kneels next to her, Spencer on Aaron’s other side.
“The bastard must have had armour-piercing bullets,” Derek says, “We need an ambulance,” he instructs before nodding, and Emily knows he’s had a response through his earpiece that one was on the way, “You just have to hold on a little longer Hotch,” Derek says, an encouraging smile on his face, “Or Prentiss here will kill you herself.”
The laugh that leaves her is ragged, and it catches on her ribs, threatening to choke her as it fills the air around them.
“Exactly,” she says, “See even Morgan knows-” she cuts herself off as she looks back at Aaron’s face, his eyes drifting closed, a stream of blood trailing from his mouth down to his ear, “Aaron, I need you to wake up,” she pauses for a moment and her desperation mounts as she doesn’t get a response, “Aaron.”
“Reid, I need you to take over from Prentiss,” Derek says, standing up as Spencer nods, placing his hands over Emily’s on Aaron’s abdomen.
“What, no-” Emily exclaims, her hands slipping off of Aaron as Derek hauls her upwards, pulling her back, “Let go of me, I need to-”
“You can’t help him right now, ok?” Derek says, all too close to her as his breath skips over her, holding her close as if she was going to bolt if he let go even a little, “The ambulance is here, JJ is bringing him up.”
She hates that she can’t hear any of what is being said by the team and that she feels reduced to this. That all she can do is stand there, Aaron’s blood on her hands, dripping onto the ground beneath her as she sags against Derek.
“I love him, Derek,” she says quietly, her voice low enough that only he hears her. The EMTs enter the room, quickly followed by JJ and Dave.
“I know you do, Princess,” Derek replies, and he kisses the side of her head, comfort she doesn’t want but cannot fight as she watches the paramedics work on Aaron, “He knows too.”
She hopes she hasn’t lost the chance to tell him.
___
The first time he wakes up he fights the intubation.
The surgery had been long, minutes feeling like hours as she sat in a waiting room, her leg bouncing up and down as she repeatedly counts the tiles on the floor. Something, anything, to keep her mind off of the fact that she just might lose him.
As soon as they find out that he made it through surgery, nothing short of a miracle according to the doctor, she sends the rest of the team back to the motel, claiming she’d be ok. She wasn’t entirely sure that was true, but she wanted to be alone with him and she knew he’d hate for anyone other than her to see him like this.
All she can do is stand back as the doctors try and calm him, more people than she cares to count as they flood the room once she presses the call button. She can almost feel it in her own throat as they pull the tube from his, the phantom sensation haunting her. A ghost of a memory of when she’d woken up alone and confused, dead to everyone who knew her. He isn’t awake for long, the anaesthesia in his system still winning the battle. It’s only when a nurse taps Emily on the shoulder and looks at her with a kind smile as she passes her a tissue that she realises she’s crying.
It reminds her of the moment she’d been alone with Dave once the ambulance arrived at the hospital. How he’d pulled his handkerchief from his pocket and wiped at her cheek, quietly telling her she had blood on her skin.
When she’s alone with him again she takes her seat back by his side. Now, with the intubation gone, it almost looked like he was sleeping normally, the same slack expression on his face that she loved to see on the rare occasion she woke up before him. He always slept facing her, as if even subconsciously he wanted to make sure she was the first thing he saw when he woke up in the morning.
Emily reaches out for his hand. His skin was cold, something she knew logically was from blood loss, but it still shocks her just like it had when she first walked into his room. He was always so warm. Heat and love and forever radiating off of him whenever he was near, a comfort that she hadn’t known could exist before him.
“I’m sorry,” she says, her eyes fixed on his sleeping face, “I know I was…I shouldn’t have lied to you,” she shakes her head at herself as she thinks of their argument, how it felt so stupid now, “I’m so…I’m so afraid of being happy,” she admits, her vision blurring as her eyes fill with tears, “I don’t think I’m very good at it and you make me happy, Aaron. And it scares the absolute shit out of me because I don’t know what I would do if I lost you,” she chuckles bitterly, the irony of that statement given her surroundings not lost on her at all.
She still remembered the moment she realised she was in love with him, that the secret feelings she’d been harbouring for her boss were much more than the crush she’d told herself it was. It was a moment far too similar to this for her liking when she found him after Foyet had attacked him. She hadn’t held his hand then, she couldn’t have no matter how much she wanted to, her thumbnail in between her teeth to stop herself.
Any feelings she’d had for him had been buried so deeply inside of her after that she sometimes allowed herself to pretend they weren’t there. She told herself that she drove him to and from work when he first got back because it was the right thing to do. That she covered his medical bills that his insurance didn’t because he was her friend. She’d found out since that he’d felt the same way, that he’d loved her too.
Then Aaron had buried her.
They came close to something more than friendship just before Doyle had torn through their lives, but it was fleeting. A flash of hope that she’d worried had died out entirely, embers on a fire that had never been able to fully ignite.
The first time he kissed her, it felt like everything had been leading up to it. As if everything they’d both been through, no matter how rocky, had somehow forged their path to each other.
She loved him, but she hadn’t said it. Not because she didn’t feel it, or because she didn’t want to, but because the words didn’t seem enough. They came nowhere near explaining how she felt about him, how he’d taken up so much more of her heart than she thought possible.
It was terrifying having so much of her happiness dependent on him, on the life they were building together.
She sighs as she rubs her thumb over the heel of his hand, hoping to press some of his usual warmth into his skin. She looks down at their joint hands, marvelling as she always did at how they fit together.
“I…I love you, Aaron,” she says, something in her chest easing at the admission, “I love you so much that it terrifies me, and I hate that it does but…” she drifts off, unsure what she’s even trying to say, her nerves fried from seeing him hurt, from fear.
From relief that he was going to be ok.
“Em?”
She looks up, and her eyes meet his, “Aaron.” She stands up and sits on the edge of his bed, leaning in to kiss him, “I’m so glad you’re awake.”
“What happened?” He asks, his voice rough.
“You were shot,” she explains, swallowing thickly, adjusting his hospital gown to do something, “It was…close.” He’d coded in the ambulance in front of her, an image she knew she wouldn’t ever be free of.
“I’m sorry,” he says, squeezing her hand, and she chuckles, shaking her head as tears flood her eyes.
“Why are you sorry? You didn’t ask to be shot.”
“I’m sorry I scared you.”
She blows out a shaky breath, lifting their joint hands to kiss his knuckles, “I’m ok,” she promises him, “Much better now you’re awake.”
Aaron smiles sleepily at her, his eyes hazy from pain medication, “I love you too, by the way.”
She freezes, her eyes wide in a way that makes him smile wider, “You…you heard that?”
He nods, tugging at her hand just enough that she knows he wants to kiss her. She leans in and presses her lips to his, grateful that she could, that he was still here.
“If I’d known me getting shot would have made you finally admit it,” he mumbles against her lips, pulling back to look at her, “I would have done it weeks ago.”
She huffs out a breath, “Aaron.”
“Too soon?”
She chuckles dryly, “Far, far too soon. It might always be,” she pushes some of his hair from his forehead, her fingers trailing against his skin, “I’m sorry for this morning.”
“Me too,” he says, squeezing her hand.
“We’ll talk about it when you’re better?” She offers, knowing there are still things they needed to discuss. Insecurities they both needed to air to move forward in the way they both wanted.
“Ok,” he agrees, and she feels the last bit of tension in her chest ease, “We do have to figure out one thing though.”
She frowns, tilting her head slightly at him, “What?”
He grins at her, a smile she knows is fuelled by pain medication and a desire to see her smile, “How to convince your mother I didn’t get shot just so we don’t have to go on Saturday.”
“Aaron.”
-x-
Tag list:
@ssa-sparks, @lukeclvez, @lyds102, @glockleveledatyourcrotch, @hotchnissenthusiast, @danadeservesadrink, @ssamorganhotchner, @emilyprentissisgod, @notagentprentiss, @freesiasandfics, @emilyshotchniss, @thecharmingart, @paulitalblond, @hancydrewfan, @camille093, @whitecrossgirl, @moonlight-2-6, @rawr-jess, @florenceremingtonthethird, @jareauswife, @ms-black-a, @beebeelank, @aubreyprc, @zipzapboingg, @psychopath-at-heart, @criminalmindsgonewrong, @fionaloover, @kinqslcys, @prentissinred, @ccmattis22, @denvivale317, @thrindis, @hotchsguccitie, @cmfouatslota77, @alexblakegf, @aliensaurusrex, @prentissxhotch, @emobabeyy, @victoiregranger, @stormyweatherth, @wanderingdreamer009, @ssablackbird, @luhwithah, @lex13cm, @prentiss-theorem, @lavenderhoney94
Join my tag list here!
#hotchniss#hotchniss fanfiction#hotchniss fanfic#aaron x emily#aaron hotchner x emily prentiss#aaron hotchner fanfic#emily prentiss#aaron hotchner whump
41 notes
·
View notes
Text
Quick AU where Terrence has future vision.
Terrence hated this. He had the power to see into the future, which one would think would be perfect for a leader of a criminal organization. Yet, it never seemed to work out. Getting the best outcomes sometimes required odd or nonsensical actions, confusing the clan. If he let people in on his predictions, they either didn't believe him, or choose not to follow the prediction thinking it'll come true regardless. Only Wilford actually listened to him, and he wasn't here.
The leader sighed, if this kept up they'll be in trouble. What's going to happen to the clan? No one could be certain. Unless...
Terrence typically tries not to look really far ahead. He didn't like spoiling life for himself, but he felt he needed to in this case. He had to know what was in store for him and the clan.
He took in a deep breath, closed his eyes, and pushed. He pushed further and further, years. The darkness cleared, but not one light of the future showed, but several. This was odd, typically he would only see the most likely outcome or one he was intentionally looking for. He took a peek into one of these lights and saw a young man with snow white hair...
-------------------------------------------------
Five minutes later:
"Copperass!"
Reginald: *Sigh* what is it THIS time "chief"?
Terrence with a forced smile: You know what? You're right. I think you would make a great leader! I'm stepping down and leaving the clan. Here's my hat! I think you'll do great!
Reginald dumbfounded: I-I...I'm happy you've come to your senses. I have big plans for the cl-
Terrence: Yeah yeah you do you. Well good luck Reg.
Terrence laughed manically while leaving: God help you twink. God. Help. You.
Reginald: ????
---
It had been years since Terrence stepped down from the clan, now living the quiet life as a farmer in the middle of nowhere Canada.
As Terrence was pulling up some carrots from his garden, his cell phone started ringing and a very old name he thought he would never see again popped up.
"Long time, no hear, Reggie."
Reginald found himself mumbling at first, before clearing his throat and speaking up.
"First of all, I'm sorry for not believing in your abilities."
"Thank you for apologizing."
"And second of all, YOU KNEW ABOUT HENRY COMING AND WHAT HE WOULD PUT US THROUGH!?"
Terrence just gave a hum as he responded to Reginald with his own question.
"You fellows are all in space right?"
"Yes... yes we are."
"So this Henry with the help of your shiny Right and some red hair woman were able to help repel the Government and get my old space station idea launched. So why complain?"
"BECAUSE RIGHT WAS ON DEATH'S DOOR AND BECAME A CYBORG, HENRY TOOK MY LEADERSHIP-"
"I'm pretty sure that you gave your leadership to that lad in an attempt to not be fed to the Government instead of just offering him a safe place in the clan."
"Shut it."
"Did you call me just to yell at me about knowing what could happen to you and the Toppats?"
Terrence just heard the phone hang up, letting out a chuckle as he resumed his carrot pulling.
29 notes
·
View notes
Note
hey! can i get a mack x captain!reader thing where they go on a date (first one or established relationship i’m not sure). maybe the captain brought him to scout a new location on the planet they’re on but surprise! it’s also a picnic date! mack is less than pleased cuz they should be working but goes along with it
thank you!
Hello Anon!
I'm so sorry that this was so short my brain short circuited and this is what I got.
Warnings: None
Pairings: Mack x reader
Word count: 804
Request? Yes
“Come on Mack! You’re being so slow!” The Captain of the Invincible II called out to their partner, who had no idea where they were. See the Invincible II had landed on their designated planet around one week ago and everyone was still doing research on it. The only people that had been down there in person were Gunther from ADS, Lola from search and rescue, and the Captain. They were the only people qualified to be by themselves down there, and this was Mack’s first time down on the planet he was to call home.
“Hey Cap, where are we going? Isn't Gunther currently exploring the planet already?” The brown haired male asked. Blindly following the most chaotic person he knew into an area he had never been before was not exactly ideal in his eyes, but since that person was his partner, he sort of let it slide.
“Okay Mack, we’re almost there, and then you can stop complaining about work.” The H/C captain told the man. Looking back in his eyes. Mack nodded and continued to walk with the leader for another five minutes before they reached their area. And Mack found it beautiful.
“Captain I- what is this place?” Mack asked, mouth wide open. There were beautiful trees, a lake filled with bird looking creatures. The grass looked amazing, there was food in baskets, the trees were filled with- wait food? He turned his head back and looked down. There was a picnic blanket, layed out with a bunch of food.
“Captain, what the hell. I thought that we were out here doing work!” He exclaimed, gesturing to the neatly laid out picnic in front of him. The captain turned around and tried to speak up for themself.
“Mack, I just thought that since it's been ages since we’ve had a date, that we could have one on our new planet. And of course we can still do our work. We can observe this area! It's perfect!” The captain blurted out, doing jazz hands to show how serious they were. Mack sighed. Was it really worth putting up with his lover for this. He was promised work and this was what he was given! He eventually admitted defeat and sat down with the leader of the ship.
“Okay fine, but as long as we actually get some work done, alright? Now hand me that sandwich please.” He held out his hand for the food while scanning the area. Visible signs of life, none hostile for what he can see. Flourishing nature and plants as far as the eyes can see. It was a pretty decent planet that they had landed on.
“And that is why my favourite animal is.. Mack, are you listening?” The captain pushed. Knocking their head engineer out of his trance. He turned back to face them, feeling flustered.
“No-No cap I can assure you that I was. I was just a little zoned out, that's all.” The man lied. He had no idea what the Captain was just saying. In his defence, he just wanted to get on with work. Romantic dates could wait until the planet was fully explored. But according to the Captain, that was not the case.
“Mack, I understand that your work is important to you, but if we wait for every little thing on this planet to be inspected, then we’ll never get to hang out. And I kind of like hanging out with you dude. So if it's okay, can you just relax, For once?” The Captain of the colony asked. Putting Mack’s hand in theirs. Mack flinched a little bit, because we all know he isn't one for physical touch, but then he relaxed. Embracing the touch that his captain gave him.
“Alright Cap, I’ll sit here and have a date with you on this beautiful picnic rug with the most beautiful and/or handsome person in the galaxy.” The Captain smiled and handed him some crackers. Both of them blushing intensely.
“Why thank you, my Big Mac” “I told you to stop calling me that.” “I’m not gonna.” The couple fought for a bit and chatted, With the Captain drinking all the F/D because of course they did. Mack was finally enjoying himself for once in his life, he was happy.
After a while, the sun eventually started to set, and the Captain was laying their head in his lap. Then one of them spoke up.
“So, Is this better than work or what?” The Captain asked, looking up at their partner. He giggled and petted their head. “Yeah, I guess it's pretty neat. Sorry I doubted you in the first place Cap.” The couple giggled, they knew that this planet would have a lot of fun places for dates in the future.
Again, so sorry that it was short!!
Have a great day everyone!!
Sincerely
William
#ISWM#MACK#mack#in space with mack#in space with markiplier#iswm part two#fanfiction#picnic#writers on tumblr#fiction#anon
9 notes
·
View notes
Text
I posted 1,553 times in 2022
That's 477 more posts than 2021!
315 posts created (20%)
1,238 posts reblogged (80%)
Blogs I reblogged the most:
@tomberensonsghost
@yalikejazz9
@thejakeformerlyknownasprince
@nice-is-neat
@thaylepo
I tagged 300 of my posts in 2022
#animorphs - 201 posts
#andalite - 51 posts
#andalites - 33 posts
#not animorphs - 23 posts
#ax - 21 posts
#tobias - 19 posts
#visser three - 16 posts
#yeerks - 15 posts
#long post - 15 posts
#marco - 11 posts
Longest Tag: 140 characters
#guaranteed all 17000ish yeerks in that pool were taught to hate and dominate and they could have been different if they'd been raised better
My Top Posts in 2022:
#5
Had a dream where they tried again with the Animorphs TV show, and they made the following changes:
1.) Tobias is just never on screen in bird morph unless it's stock footage. When everyone is in the barn or outside talking, they just look up off screen/into the rafters/ into the conciently placed tree while the Tobias voiceover plays. The bits where Tobias attacks people from above are done with a muppet and fishing wire.
2.) Ax is actually a tiny puppet touched up with CGI and greenscreened in. Same goes for all the other Andalites.
3.) Rachel isn't tall. She's actually only a little taller than Cassie and Marco. She still complains about being too tall for Gymnastics to Melissa, who is an inch taller than her.
4.) Rather than age the characters up to fit the darker themes of the series, they cast a bunch of 14 year olds and then reduced the stakes and focus more on the kids hanging out. They just randomly run into Visser Three at the arcade and the amusement park and at school a lot.
5.) They have a real tiger, and try to find as many excuses to show it off as they can. When they can't figure out a reason for Jake to be in tiger morph, they come up with other ways to shoehorn it in, like the zoo thought it was okay to take a tiger to the mall for people to pet it.
6.) They finally have more than one Hork-Bajir costume to use, but they only have one Taxxon, which is played by two guys crouched under a long worm costume like a Chinese New Year parade dragon.
I think that's all I can remember.
208 notes - Posted March 6, 2022
#4
If you acquired every animal you have ever touched on purpose in your entire life, what would be the coolest thing you could morph into?
Mine would probably be a nurse shark or a boa constrictor. The snake was from when a reptile specialist brought it to my middle school and let us pet it. The shark would be from a Pet The Shark exhibit at an aquarium.
Not gonna lie though, my favorite one (not the coolest, but definitely the most sentimental value) would be the tiny stingray I was friends with when I was 6.
217 notes - Posted May 17, 2022
#3
Idea:
The Animorphs get sent back in time because Ax was fiddling with the radio in Cassie’s barn and accidentally caused a Sario Rip. The Animorphs encounter their past selves.
The past Animorphs are convinced the future Animorphs are actually Evil Animorphs (tm) from an alternate dimension. Except Cassie, who has a Timey Wimey sense, and Ax, who simply asks the other Ax <What happened this time?>
236 notes - Posted January 24, 2022
#2
I can't tell if I shared this here, but...
[SCENE: Somewhere. JAKE and TOBIAS are waiting for the other ANIMORPHS to arrive.]
Tobias, seeing an approaching osprey: <You've got incoming. It's an idiot.>
Cassie, playfully: <Thanks Tobias. I love you too.>
Tobias: <Oh shit! Sorry! I thought you were Marco.>
Marco, flying in from another direction in his osprey morph: <This is why I keep telling her she needs to get her own bird morph! Merchandising is never going to go for it if we share morphs.>
Tobias: <And there's the idiot.>
242 notes - Posted March 14, 2022
My #1 post of 2022
Imagine going to a supermarket and finding a Taxxon with a shopping basket hanging off one arm and the Taxxon is weighing five different cantelopes with its other arms.
That is the world I want to live in.
266 notes - Posted February 8, 2022
Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →
3 notes
·
View notes
Text
Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day. Welcome to the weekend!
Wow! Here we are again: Friday! Where did that week go! Not complaining, it was a very enjoyable week, and this is my favourite day of the week!
Why was MissTrusst so anxious to become prime minister? Because she will now get an ex-PM’s annual salary (£115k for life) paid for by us (of course!) We pay for every folly and half-baked idea.
So, she decides to stand down. What now? Another incompetent idiot takes her place. And what happens when they resign? Another incompetent idiot takes their place. Can you see a pattern forming here? So sad she won’t be able to romaine in power!
As Charlie Booker said yesterday, “This f*cking government is like malware you can’t remove.” That’s exactly how it feels. Not even your computer geek nephew can fix your laptop! Whichever numptie takes her place, we still have two more years of their amateurish antics.
How does all this mess affect the ordinary person? I went to Sainsbury’s last night and spent £100 on a half full trolly. I’ll probably have to go back on Sunday! Most expensive item: six tins of Heinz Baked Beans for £4.50. Are you starting to understand what inflation is now?
Finally! A US citizen has admitted responsibility for the death of teenage motorcyclist Harry Dunn in a case that caused a diplomatic row between the US and British governments. Anne Sacoolas, 45, pleaded guilty at the Old Bailey, via video link, to causing his death by ‘careless driving’. Mr. Dunn, 19, died following a crash outside a US military base in Northamptonshire in August 2019. Judge Mrs. Justice Cheema-Grubb said Sacoolas, who was employed by a US intelligence agency, would be sentenced at the end of November. Sacoolas was charged with ‘causing death by dangerous driving’ but the Crown Prosecution Service (CPS) accepted her guilty plea to the lesser charge. ‘Death by careless driving’ carries a maximum sentence of five years imprisonment but a community punishment or suspended jail sentence is often given. Getting off very lightly! Sacoolas had diplomatic immunity asserted on her behalf by the US administration following the accident. She left the UK 19 days later and probably hoped diplomatic immunity would get her out of trouble. Finally, three years later, we have some kind of justice.
I’ve got a young man in one of my classes and he wants to do radio. He said, “Where can you learn to do radio?” I said, “Nowhere! You just have to do it!” I said to him, “Start small. Start anywhere. Your first show will not be good. Mine wasn’t! But your second show will be better and your third will be better than that.” “It’s all about confidence,” he said. “It’s all about confidence,” I said. His first show (on a very small station) will be in the next few weeks. I didn’t tell him it took me about 12 years to get the hang of it!
Hope you can join me tomorrow at 1.00 p.m. for ‘The A-Z Of Mi-Soul Music’. The Letter J (Part Five).
I post this status every single week day, Monday through Friday. If you want to read it but you don’t see it, just go to my profile. I’m always here!
Have a fabulous and funky Friday! I love you all. You’re probably thinking, “You don’t even know me!” but, if people can hate for no reason, why can’t I love?
#mixcloud#mi soul#dj#music#new blog#books#democracy#brexit#lockdown#coronavirus#weekend#cronyism#election#autumm
2 notes
·
View notes
Note
hi j!! congratulations on 500!! can’t think of anyone who deserves it more than you :) hope you’re having a lovely day! just wanted to send in a request:
❛ don’t be a stranger, okay? ❜ from the fluff list with woozi?
it’s no pressure though! thank you so much <33 mwah
LEE JIHOON, YOUR EMOTIONAL SUPPORT I.T GUY. - l.jh
pair : jihoon x gn!reader
prompt : “ don’t be a stranger, okay? ”
wc : 2.3k
heads up : coworker!jihoon. fluff. kinda silly.
notes : HI BESTIE thank u sm for sending this in!!!! i hope you like it.<3
notes 2.0 : everyone deserves an emotional support IT guy, in my unprofessional opinion. i also think that 100% of those should be woozi.
You knew Jihoon was leaving. You’ve had a lot of time to prepare for this: he told you before he even handed in his resignation that he had accepted a job offer elsewhere. But despite trying everything in your power (including, but not limited to, bribery, begging and three whole days of the cold shoulder), his decision didn’t change. When you gave him a full lecture about abandonment and betrayal, and the fact that nobody else in your work’s IT department comes close to solving some of the shit that happens with your computer…
He had the audacity to fucking laugh.
In your moment of desperation. Your hour of need. Practically begging on your knees (all right, he was stood next to your desk while you were looking up at him from your office chair) for him not to leave you high and dry like this, he patted you on the shoulder and chuckled as he told you that you’d be fine. As if this wasn’t actually, literally, the end of the world.
Asshole.
And okay, whatever, maybe Jihoon isn’t ‘just’ the only person on the tech team who understands that you’ve been followed by a curse when it comes to computers since you were in middle school. Maybe he isn’t just so good at his job that him leaving has the potential to ruin your ability to do yours.
Maybe... it’s a little bit deeper than that.
You first met nearly five years ago, when he was brand new. In his first week, he came stumbling into your office, bleary eyed and coffee in hand, at 8:15 on a Monday morning to try and ‘fix’ your PC. After about 6 seconds of fumbling, your screens came to life and he flushed as he told you that a cable on one of your monitors had just come loose. Ever since, you’ve been totally taken with him: with his frowny concentrating face, his pretty, nimble fingers, his quietly delivered jokes. The way he always goes pink when the older ladies in your office coo over him and how he splutters when they tease you for practically being work-married, by now.
Not least because he’s a very nice guy, and you find him so easy to talk to, and now? Now he's leaving you.
The guy who brings you snacks on days you have to work through your lunch breaks. The guy who comes by just to make sure you’re not about to dive out of a second floor window on a Wednesday afternoon. One of the special few people you choose to hang out with outside of work. He’s the man who meets you for coffee some weekends and lets you complain about the fact that the next closest person in your department to you in age could still be your mother, while he complains to you about bossy executives who escalate their IT jobs to a ‘critical incident’ after just five minutes. Jihoon is the guy who has brought you a silly gift to decorate your desk with every birthday and Christmas since you met. The guy who picks you up (with breakfast) when your car is in the shop getting work done.
He even pretended to be your boyfriend one year when Johnny from accounting started to make moves on you during the annual Christmas function. (Perhaps him posessively keeping a hand on your thigh every minute you were sat down next to each other made it the best night of your life.)
All this to say… he gets you. He always has. Your weird little friendship with him works, and even though you still get butterflies every time you see him, you’ve never felt so comfortable with a colleague before. You can ignore your little crush when you start thinking about your devastation over him being gone soon. Your feelings have no part to play in Jihoon being someone you trust, someone who helps you immeasurably: someone who makes your working life a little more bearable.
What on Earth are you going to do without him?
His last day has rolled around faster than you know what to do with, and at 3:30 on Friday afternoon, like clockwork, his head appears around your office door. An apologetic smile replaces the cheeky one he usually wears when he shows up, and you narrow your eyes at him before telling him to go away.
“Charming as ever,” he laughs, sliding into your office anyway and making a beeline for you, waving at the people who glance up and greet him. He leans against your desk and you sit back finally, crossing your arms.
“I’m busy,” you lie, frowning at your screen. You finished everything you needed to do about ten minutes ago, but you’re not about to let him — or anyone, for that matter — know so. You’ve worked hard to master the art of looking occupied and you’re deploying every tactic you know: there’s no way you’re going to get five more projects added to your to-do list this close to home-time. “Traitor.”
“Last thing on a Friday? Like hell you are,” Jihoon chuckles, leaning down and looking at your screen too, speaking quietly enough to ensure no one around you can to hear him.
“Blow my cover and I’ll slash your tyres,” you playfully threaten under your breath. “I’ve already rejected a meeting request this afternoon.”
“Well, aren’t you a team player,” he quips, rolling his eyes before he sits back upright and says louder, “I won’t keep you long. I just wanted to drop this off.”
He places a small brown bag on top of a neatly stacked pile of paperwork on the left hand side of your desk and gestures for you to look inside. When you do, you know your attempt at a stoic gaze starts to soften and you look up at him again with a saddened pout.
“Hey,” you say quietly. “You can’t do this to me, I’m fragile enough already.”
It’s just a muffin, for crying out loud. He’s been bringing you these from the bakery across the street every week, for as many weeks as you can remember. But something about him doing it on his last day makes your heart beat out a funny little pattern and you bite the inside of your lip as he shakes his head.
His hair is tied low today with a few pieces left out to frame his face: it softens him, giving him a bit of a curtain to hide behind, but you can still see his cheeks flush as he glances away from you. You slip your hand into the bag and pull the muffin out, setting it on your desk and peeling the paper back.
“I’m really gonna miss you,” Jihoon says, momentarily stopping you as you rummage through your desk drawer for the cutlery set you keep wrapped up in there. You just wanted a knife so you could cut it in two. You just wanted to share this last little treat with him.
There are a million ways you could respond. Last-ditch attempts at telling him to retract his notice to leave. Advise that it’s his own fault. Pretend like you’re not going to be miserable here without him. To name but a few.
But the fact that he’s picked up, and started to play with, the little fidget cube you keep by your pen holder for particularly boring Teams calls tells you that he isn’t saying it in the way he does when you’re taking a week off to go on vacation.
His thumbs rhythmically play with the little clicking buttons on one side and you pull the blunt knife free from the plastic bag hidden beneath your favourite notebook. Instead of teasing him, you cut the muffin equally and pick up one piece, holding it out to him.
“I’m gonna miss you too.”
He eyes you to make sure you’re certain before he takes the slice out of your hand and holds it in his fingers. You pick up the other piece and extend it towards him, bumping the two halves together in a mock ‘cheers’ for the time you’ve spent together.
You take bites from the muffin in unison and you know the zesty lemon flavour spills onto his tongue at the same time as it does yours. Soft hums come from the both of you and Jihoon tilts his head back for emphasis, too, sighing contentedly after he swallows.
“Don’t be a stranger, okay?” You ask of him, laying the paper bag down flat and putting your own piece on top of it. “I mean it. You better not forget about me.”
“As if I ever could,” he says.
“You might, if there’s someone at your new job more pitiful than I am,” you counter. “You’ll have a replacement ‘me’ quicker than you can blink.”
Jihoon laughs, setting what’s left of his half of the muffin down too and dusting the crumbs off his fingers into the trash can at your side.
“Trust me,” he starts, folding his arms. The subtle flex of his muscle makes the shirt he’s wearing tighten around his biceps and you glance down at them, at how his sleeves are pushed up to the elbows and his long, delicate fingers lay over the neatly folded cotton. “My eyes are up here. Trust me — I don’t want a 'replacement you'.”
You know your eyes go wide as he calls you up for staring and you look at his face immediately, at the coy smile he’s wearing, at the way the tips of his ears — just visible through the way his hair separates — are dusted pink. You just nod. He takes another bite, savours, and swallows it before talking again.
“So, I actually… kind of lied? There’s another reason I came down here, uh—”
You know this catches the attention of your office’s resident blabbermouth by the way her eyebrows pick up from a few desks in front of you and you tap his hip with the back of your hand, darting your eyes towards the door quickly to hush him. Jihoon catches your drift, nods, and stands up; you lock your computer and lead him out. When you’re in the hallway, door secured (and checked) behind you, he turns to face you again, leaning one shoulder against the wall.
“Okay. Shoot.”
“Okay,” Jihoon nods, tilting his head forwards for a second to gather his thoughts before he shakes his hair out of his eyes and looks back up at you. “I-… I know HR have this whole thing about, like… internal… relationships, and- and stuff? So I didn’t ever… you know—”
You hold your breath, clasping your hands behind you in the hopes he doesn’t see how they start twitching. His own, you realise, are deep in the pockets of his slacks. For the same reason?
“I wanted to. Trust me. For— shit, for so long, but I didn’t know if you’d go for it, and I really didn’t want to have, like… anyway — uh-…”
The blush that was formerly only given away by its presence on his ears has migrated to his cheeks now, and is starting to spread dangerously towards his temples and down his neck. He keeps glancing everywhere around your head, as if he’s chasing pixies in the air with his eyes. It's adorable, but...
“And… I guess what I wanted to say, is—”
“Yes,” you say before he can finish. He’s never been the most outgoing but you’ve still never seen Jihoon fall over his words like this before; you’re starting to feel agonised by how long it’s taking him to get to the point.
(Especially when said point is what you’ve been waiting a small lifetime for.)
“I didn’t even ask—”
“You didn’t have to,” you laugh. He breaks into a chuckle as well. His shoulders relax. He exhales through his pretty, pursed lips.
“Are you busy tomorrow night?” He asks, finally, thumb tapping against his forearm.
“Free as a bird, actually.”
“I’ll pick you up at 7?”
“I’ll be waiting.”
He lifts one hand to pinch at the bridge of his nose, still laughing, screwing up his eyes and his nose in a way that makes him look entirely too kissable. You have to forcibly remind yourself that there’s nothing you can do about that right now, though, that someone could walk through that door any second and technically, he still works here until 5:30pm today.
Tomorrow night? Well. That’ll be a different story.
“I’ll let you go back to clicking through your emails,” he says then, pushing off from the wall. “Text me later?”
“Keep your voice down,” you grin, settling your hand back on the doorknob. “Yeah. I'll see you tomorrow.”
Jihoon bites his bottom lip as he nods and starts to back away, ultimately beginning on the walk back to his own department. You, however, need to let yourself calm down before you can so much as think about going back into your office: you fan your face with your hands and take a couple of deep breaths first, and only when you’re sure that there are no visible signs of glee left on your face do you re-enter, walking as nonchalantly to your desk as you can and pretending like every middle-aged, bespectacled set of eyes aren’t waiting for you to spill the gossip.
You don’t need to spill anything, though. Pressed to the bottom of your keyboard, clear as day, — he must have done this as soon as you stood up — is a bright yellow Post-It. His immediately recognisable — but almost illegible — handwriting in the thick, black felt-tipped pens he always uses decorates the note, accompanied by a signature smiley face in the top corner.
The ink is dry. The paper is a little curled. He wrote this before he came to find you, the giddy voice in your brain tells you. The words he’s written down only heighten that feeling.
He gets you. He always has.
Don’t be a stranger, okay? Miss you already. - J.
thank u so much for reading, i hope you enjoyed it! as always, likes, reblogs, comments & feedback are so so appreciated.<3
#💌 - mailbox.#newoozi#j writes.#*my fic.#mw500party!#woozi fluff#woozi fic#woozi x reader#lee jihoon fluff#lee jihoon fic#lee jihoon x reader#seventeen fluff#seventeen fic#seventeen x reader#svt x reader#*
179 notes
·
View notes
Text
It's "funny;" a couple days ago, I tried to make a post on here and it refused to go through. I'd typed nothing considered inappropriate nor made any kind of threats, I was only talking about the hidden evil lurking within those who participate in gangstalking and the fact they involve and target children. I suppose since it's crystal clear I'm being watched even more heavily due to my stance against the government and my attempts to spread the truth around concerning this illegal cointelrpo program and MK ultra madness they're running, I'm being censured now more than ever. The government will do all it can to break its neck watching me and trying to torment me, but as usual, have no willing intentions to just leave me alone and let me live my "boring" repetitive life.
Ever since the middle of last month, they've beefed up the attacks against me, as well as countless other T.I.'s out there.
It's gotten to the point, from the time I wake up till the time I go to bed I'm allowed little to no relief. The attacks against me are physical and focus mostly on my face, particulary my eyes, yet other parts of my body are not excluded. My arms are their second favorite place to attack. They also like hitting me in the back of my head now too. They've gone full aggressive mode on me and seem to bear no intention on giving me a break any time soon. At this point it would probably take an act of God to get them to back off even just a little. Smh.
My face randomly burns and itches throughout the day and my sleep is rarely peaceful. All of the attacks are always accompanied by the V2K verbal abuse and the demand that I "shut up!" Which I know is their way of saying, 'don't think, don't speak, don't express yourself in anyway until we tell you you can!" I'd like to believe the attacks have intensified because their time of reign is almost over and this is their way of kicking back at us T.I.'s, their last hellish romp until its done forever. I was told via V2K the reason the attacks against me have heightened are due to me putting Brinley "under fire," in other words telling the truth online and in person on how he is the one who had my name put on the illegal watchlist.
In a time where I've been thrown under an even thicker microscope, it's possible this is being checked out, they may be trying to link it to him and find out why he wanted me on there in the first place and who authorized it, but who knows. The problem with the V2K is sometimes this A.I. program (which sounds like actual people mind you) tell me sheer lies, other times they drop hints about things.....that turn out exactly as they said it would. I figure its a psychological thing: trying to get me to trust them despite them abusing me. I'll never understand this mindset because I'm not abusive, and I don't have time for mind games.
Anyhow they've hinted as well I'm being "investigated" by a different branch of the government due to the lawsuit. Don't know if I believe that one either, my reasoning being I should've been thoroughly "investigated" BEFORE my name was put on the list in the first place. Not five years later. Had they done their homework earlier they would've realized in no time, outside of working for a living, like every other American out there, I'm a family gal. I don't go a lot of places, I don't hang out with a lot of people. Before my life was hijacked out of my control, I was a very private person. Anyhow, the V2K voices may be on to something after all, as the cops and undercover vehicles following me around any time I leave my house aren't as "stealth" as these people may think they are, although in most cases, they clearly aren't trying to be seen, unlike the common attention-whore gangstalkers. I just notice everything.
Although I document the attacks and report them on websites such as these, I do my best not to "complain" over the circumstances. Many people I've come across mix up venting and documentation for "complaining." One T.I. I came across online even commented that most "real" T.I.'s no longer even speak on the horrors they go through because in their minds, there's no point. In my opinion however, it's up to each individual whether they want to talk about it or not. It doesn't make you a "phony" or a "whiny weakling" just because you dare to express yourself on the abuse you go through. Some people are just "stronger" in the fact they can go through it all without expressing the pain in any way, while the rest of us use our self expressions on social media or anywhere as an outlet. I'm of the latter. It's not very good for me to hold alot in overtime. Trust me.
Although it's a challenge, rather than focus entirely on the abuse I can't control, I try to shift my mindset to other areas: how I can try to help others who are in the same boat I am, how I can advocate against this undercover evil, and how I can do what I can to enjoy this life despite the obstacles. I can't wait until I have my freedom back but I also can't just sleep my life away waiting for it all to be over either.
I'm considering going back to my video diaries. I used to love doing it despite the fact I'd ramble on and on in most of them lol I stopped mostly because I got tired of them being hacked and spread around and then I'd get ridiculed and harassed for the things I'd say. Now, I don't even care anymore. My enemies are doing what they wanna do against me, not giving a damn how it hurts me and causes damage to me. So I've decided to take the same mindset again. I probably won't actually publish the videos until this entire thing is over. I just want to get back to doing the things I love doing but was forced to stop because of the harassment. Life is short. Our abusers are having all the fun they want to have, doing everything they want to do, even though it all revolves around us 🙄 If they can have fun and enjoy themselves, we can too because unlike them, at least we mind our own business and don't go out of our way to hurt people!
#gangstalking#organized stalking#targetedindividual#organized harassment#persecution#voice to skull harassment#gangstalkers#government corruption#harassment#directed energy attacks
1 note
·
View note
Text
Her Private Life (2019)
This show was the caramel latte of rom-coms. Warm, safe, and sweet enough to rot your teeth if you take in too much. This wasn't quite a new favorite, but I still enjoyed it, and will probably watch the show again at some point.
What Worked
This show was carried by the cute factor of the OTP. It was mostly kind to the side characters, but didn't really give them nearly as much attention. Overall, the chemistry of the two leads, and the premise of the show was so good that you kind of didn't care when everyone else disappeared.
That being said, the show did a lot of smart, subtle things in the writing. It played it straight with a lot of common tropes, so when the show had the ML (**Spoilers**) actually figure out Seon-joo was a secret fan-girl in episode five (**End Spoilers**), it surprised me, and I was hooked from there. The entire dynamic in that arc, with the ML being teasing in one scene, and then secretly supportive in the next, was so good. The other relationship stuff they did was also excellent, but this was what made the show interesting and unique.
What Didn't Worked
The show was very strong overall, so there weren't a lot of missteps, but it did have a few weaknesses. The way it was filmed at the start, with moments where it almost leaned into anime, really showed the web novel origins of the show, and was very different from typical dramas. I liked this lens, but not everyone will.
Also, the amount of cute relationship stuff from the OTP could quickly turn a little too sweet. It wasn't not really a problem, just something to be aware of. There were times when I started rolling my eyes at the level of cute, and that's when I knew I should probably stop watching for awhile and pick the show up the next day.
(**Spoilers**) The childhood connection thing they did in the final arc of the episode bothered me a little. I understand why they did it, but it still felt a little lazy. I liked the way the arc (which had Young-sook be the one that dropped Ryan Gold off, and talked about a young child that died in a car accident) recontextualized the beginning of the show. The arc really did make me rethink Deok-mi's parents and their relationship. I just wish they had started laying the groundwork for that earlier. It felt like something they introduced at the last minute, which kept it from having the weight it should have (**End Spoilers**).
The Performances
Park Min-young as "secret fangirl" Sung Deok-mi. I think this is my favorite show of hers since Healer. On the other hand, it's also the only show of hers I've completely finished since Healer. She was adorable, and pulled off the humor and the cute stuff pretty well. The writing gave her alot to work with, though the show rarely tried to challenge her (other than the huge endurance challenge of being in pretty much every scene).
Kim Jae-wook as "perfect boyfriend" Ryan Gold / Heo Yoon-je. Some people have complained about him being too withdrawn and even a little wooden in this, but I think he was just following the brief. When the show called for him to open up and be all emotional, he did great. When it called for him to be funny, or cute, he did good with that as well. A solid performance, overall.
Ahn Bo-hyun as "the real director" Nam Eun-gi. I hated the stupid love triangle thing the writers pulled with him, but when they turned the angst down and let the character just breathe and hang out with the other characters, the character was fun to watch. Which shows how good an actor Ahn Bo-hyun could be when they gave him the chance.
Park Jin-joo as "super BFF" Lee Seon-joo. The only other show I've seen her in was It's Okay to Not Be Okay where she was fun, but quirky as heck. She did a great job here, even with the stupid "joke" Lesbian relationship they did in the first few episodes. Just funny and interesting and it made me want to see what else the actor could do.
Im Ji-kyu as "worst Oppa" Kang Seung-min. Not really a standout character from a writing standpoint and the acting wasn't bad, but not really memorable either.
Kim Mi-kyung as "knitting Oma" Go Young-sook. Kim Mi-kyung is a legend for a reason. This is exactly her kind of role and she did a great job. She played a quirky character really well, and when the writers did the "big reveal" at the end, she did a good job with that as well.
Maeng Sang-hoon as "rock enthusiast Appa" Sung Geun-ho. He played kind of joke character through most of it, but it was a funny joke. He handled the dramatic final arc well enough, but it was easy for him to slip into the background compared to all the other actors on the screen.
Kim Bo-ra as "stalker fangirl" Sindy / Kim Hyo-jin. The writers gave her a pretty good arc, and she did a fine job with it. She was funny and annoying when they needed her to be at the start, but it was nice to see the (mostly believable) development throughout the series.
Kim Sun-young as "worst boss and worst Oma" Uhm So-hye. Every time the character walked into the scene, I had a moment of dread. And it was a relief when she left, which proved that Kim Sun-young did a good job with the role she was given, I guess.
Jung Jae-won as "the idol" Cha Shi-an / Sian. Jung Jae-won is a full time rapper & songwriter, so I think this was a case where they knew the limits of the actor and wrote the character to match. He looked and acted the part of an idol very well, but tended to fade in the background alot of the time. So a good job, but not a standout.
Lee Il-hwa as "Missing Oma" Gong Eun-young / Lee Sol. The actor did a good job with what she was given, but I wish the writers had given the character a little more depth. Still, that wasn't really the kind of show they were doing.
Hong Seo-young as "perennial third wheel" Choi Da-in. Again, the actor was mostly okay, but she was given a very thin character who was mostly there to stir up drama. Just like with Nam Eun-gi, when they gave her scenes where she was able to breathe and hang out with the other characters, it was fun to watch, but those scenes were few and far between.
The Kids. The young tyke who played Seon-joo and Seung-min's son, and did alot of judo was cute. The other scenes with children were mostly pleasant, though again the show liked to lean hard into the cute factor at times. Overall, they did good.
Everyone Else. The office people where there, and were mostly funny, but had very little development. The coffeeshop temp / future rock star guy had a few fun moments, but didn't really stand out. The guest stars (like the author guy, Eun-gi's mom, the fangirls, etc.) had mostly good performances, though the show kind of forgot about some of that by the end of it as it focused on the drama part of it over the romcom stuff.
TL; DR:
A fun, sweet show with enough angst and drama to keep it interesting. If you like Park Min-young and Kim Jae-wook (which I did), you'll enjoy the show. Otherwise, you'll probably stop watching pretty quickly.
0 notes
Last Seen Blogs
solnbereg
Санаторий "Солнечный берег" в Белар
jenakkermans-blog
Jennifer Akkermans: Studio Notes
souvenirsdesmercier
Album souvenir des Mercier
art-mysecondname
ART is my second name
uniquepoison
Unique Poison