#and then i needed one more to round it out so hush felt appropriate despite being less Haunting than the others. have some anime girl edge | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash · 3 years

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Irresistible Danger - Part 60

Synopsis: After being caught outside the compound on your own, Negan decides to punish you in the best way possible ;)

Words: 3,229

Warnings: nsfw, smut, swearing

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Masterlist of all my fics can be found HERE

Author’s Note: We’re back! Omg y’all...I finally have a path to the ending for this fic! After this chapter, I’m planning for there to be 5 more chapters until the end, which will give ID a total of 65 chapters. I’m still working on writing and editing these last chapters, but I’m pretty confident in that timeline :D I also plan to post each Friday again, so there should be chapters now through September 10th, if all goes according to plan.

PDA

You woke with a smile the next morning, partially because of the happiness filling your chest like a balloon. The other part was because the warm body behind you, accompanied by a rasp of beard on your shoulder and soft lips on your neck, signalled that you weren’t alone.

The florid orange rays coming in the large windows told you that it was still early, the sun barely risen above the horizon. Turning over onto your other side to face Negan, you took in his tousled hair and heavy-lidded gaze.

“Mornin’ doll,” he said, voice raspy with sleep.

“Morning,” you whispered back, pressing a kiss to his irresistible mouth. “No crack-of-dawn meetings today?”

His lips quirked against yours. “Nope, thank fuck,” he murmured, before rolling atop you and spending a good portion of the morning taking you apart with pleasure, then putting you back together piece by piece with cuddles and toe-curling kisses.

When he later glanced over at the clock and saw that it was almost 10am, he gave a groan and flopped onto his back with a forearm covering his eyes. “Much as I’d love to stay here all day, I gotta go with a couple Saviors to check out one of the nearby outposts. They reported some concerns about their fucking security measures, and also requested a few more men be stationed out there to help divvy up their shifts, so I wanna go see if there’s any fucking issues for myself.”

While you felt a tiny thrill that he was so willing to tell you this information, to let you know about his duties as leader, you also had a moment of worry about him possibly assigning more men out to work the outpost. “Is that the one you brought Simon in from a couple weeks ago?”

Knowing exactly where your thoughts were headed, he said, “Don’t get your fucking panties in a bunch, doll. If the outpost needs more hands, I was planning to send a couple of my newer Saviors.”

Pleased at this response, you smiled and leaned in close so your mouth was hovering mere millimeters from his, before whispering, “I’m not wearing any panties to get in a bunch.”

Before he could react, you rolled out of the bed and strode to the bathroom, putting a little extra swing to your hips. The growl and unmistakable rustling sound of sheets being thrown off was your only warning before Negan scooped you up into his arms and marched into the bathroom.

An hour later and you were both sufficiently clean (after first getting extra dirty against the shower wall), and you saw Negan off from his rooms with a kiss and warning to be careful. He gave an arrogant smirk at that, which got him an eye roll and playful shake of your head as a response.

You watched as he strode down the hall towards the staircase, shoulders encased in leather and his whistle echoing off the walls. While they’d never dare ask him about it, you couldn’t help but give a little smile at the thought of his men wondering why the hell their usually punctual leader was almost ten minutes late to leave for the outpost...and why he seemed so happy about it.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Unable to contain your excitement over the events of the night before, you headed over to Ben’s room not long after Negan left. Thankfully he was there, having just returned from finishing up serving breakfast. His roommate was out this time, so you were able to huddle across from one another on his bottom bunk and catch him up on your conversation with Negan.

Ben listened intently, mouth slowly falling further and further open as you went on. When you got to the part about Negan admitting he wanted only you, and called you his partner, Ben let out a whoop of joy and threw his arms around you in a hug.

“I knew it!” he exclaimed. “That big lug is head over heels for you.”

The two of you chatted happily for a bit, before you left and wandered back down to your own room. It had felt like forever since you had a chunk of time to just relax in your bed without over analyzing or stressing over something Negan-related. Gone was the weight of that padlocked box of questions, which made both your brain and subconscious very happy. The three of you snuggled up on the bed and spent the next couple of hours finishing your re-read of Harry Potter before it was time to head down to the kitchen for dinner prep.

Today’s menu consisted of lasagna using leftover deer meat thawed from the freezer, with the signature side of rolls. Trixie had unofficially promoted herself as being in charge of roll duty, making sure the dough was the right consistency and the ovens at the perfect baking temperature. She wasn’t rude about it, but the little bit of authority she showed when instructing another staff member how to properly knead the dough seemed to fulfill her need to be seen as a knowledgeable and important part of the staff. And in all honesty, none of her feedback to the others was incorrect, so rather than reprimand her or say she was out of line, you had caught her eye at one point and given an almost imperceptible nod of approval. This caused her smile to beam so bright that it was a wonder you didn’t need sunglasses.

As it turned out, you weren’t the only one who had noticed Trixie’s presence and been keeping a stealthy eye on her. Andrew, a member of the food prep crew, had been not-so-subtly following Trixie with his gaze lately, and today was no exception. He was an attractive man in his early 20s with shoulder-length black hair and kind brown eyes, a much more appropriate candidate for Trixie than her previous choice.

It seemed safe to say that Trixie was aware of the attention as well, as she found every reason possible to flounce past where Andrew was busy loading trays of lasagna into an oven. At one point, she even stopped to chat briefly with him, and out of the corner of your eye you saw her toss back her head and laugh at something he said. If it seemed a bit overly dramatic to you, well, Andrew didn’t seem to mind. In fact, her reaction caused him to fumble with the tray of pasta he was holding, almost spilling the entire thing onto the ground. He thankfully saved it at the last second, otherwise you would’ve had to interrupt and lecture the two of them about focusing on their work and not chit-chatting. And you didn’t want to do that, not when Trixie finally seemed interested in a guy more her age who was actually available and seemed to genuinely like her.

Despite your initial tension with Trixie, you now realized that she had just been struggling to find where she fit in, to feel like an important part of the community. She’d initially been scooped up and led astray by Amber, but thankfully she had found her way back on the correct path and was making progress at getting along with the others, rather than isolating herself and using condescension as an emotional wall. Someone like Andrew, who was kind-hearted and considerate, not to mention absolutely captivated by her, was exactly what she needed.

Focusing your attention away from young romance and back to meal prep, you spent the next forty-five minutes making sure everything was baked to perfection before sending out the first trays of lasagna and rolls. However, your mind kept randomly returning to Negan, almost unable to contain a secret smile each time you remembered where the two of you now stood. The usual worry and second-guessing had been replaced by the stability of knowing how he felt, and each time you remembered his words from last night a flutter of butterflies went off in your stomach.

Negan had told you this morning that the outpost he and a small team of men were going to was less than an hour’s drive from the Sanctuary, so he planned to be back around dinnertime. Sure enough, about 20 minutes into when the first round of food was being served, you saw a small group of Saviors enter the cafeteria and settle down at a table. You guessed that they were the ones who had been out on the mini mission, and breathed a sigh of relief at seeing them back safely and with jovial expressions on their faces. You could always tell when things went wrong on a run, due to the overall aura of the men who returned, but this time they were smiling and talking animatedly with one another. Hopefully this also meant that Negan was in a happy, and perhaps affectionate, mood when you went to visit him later...

It was as if your thoughts had conjured the man himself. You were out in the cafeteria with a large water pitcher, making rounds to refill empty glasses for people, when a hush in conversation made you still and look up.

And there he was, standing at the entrance to the cafeteria with his signature leather jacket unzipped just enough so that the edge of a white tee peeked out over the top. He scanned over the tables like a king surveying his domain, looking both intimidating and absolutely delicious with the arrogant way he held himself, as if he had no cares in the world but was also ready to take on anything.

When his eyes landed on you, those sinful lips quirked upwards at the edges, and you swore that even from the distance of half a cafeteria you could see his golden gaze light up at the sight of you. He moved, striding with determination and purpose to close the space between your bodies. The breath caught in your chest at his beauty, at the raw masculinity and almost animal magnetism that surrounded him.

He stopped mere inches away, and you gazed up at him in both welcome and a bit of confusion. Trying to act calm and unaffected, and not show how much you wanted to grin and launch yourself at him, you said, “Welcome back.”

Your eyebrow cocked in question when he shook his head with a low chuckle. “Oh no, doll, that won’t do at all.” And with that, he wrapped an arm around your waist and lowered his head...

And kissed you in front of the entire Sanctuary.

A wave of shock jolted through you, at the same time as your body automatically responded, molding itself to his. Your brain was flatlined on the floor from the unexpected move, while your subconscious ran around it in circles screaming with excitement.

You could practically feel all the astonished stares from community members, as they watched their all-powerful leader break one of his cardinal rules and kiss you to within an inch of your life. And dear god, what a kiss it was! His lips were firm yet gentle, his tongue just barely tracing your bottom lip, as if he couldn’t help but steal a little taste. He wasn’t holding back, and the primal part of you recognized that he was publicly staking his claim for all to see. There could be no question after this moment that you were his, and that he wanted everyone to know it.

When he finally pulled back, you could only look up at him with what must’ve been an utterly dazed expression, if his pleased smirk was anything to go by. Glancing to his left and then right, his brow furrowed and expression turned serious as he bellowed, “What the fuck are you all looking at?”

His words had the desired effect, as eyes dropped back to their plates and the community stuttered back to action, obviously trying and failing to act like something monumental didn’t just happen. You’d have given a lot of points to know what they were all thinking, but you didn’t see any angry expressionsand no one had said anything or acted out of line, so hopefully that was a good sign.

Negan’s warm hand rubbed comfortingly up your bare arm, and it was then that you noticed he didn’t have his gloves on. That also sparked the realization that he wasn’t carrying Lucille, which was strange since he always had her on his person when making an appearance in front of the community.

Now that you’re thinking about it, did he even have her this morning, when he left?

You thought back to when you had kissed him goodbye and watched as he walked down the hallway. Surely he’d have taken her with him to the outpost...but you honestly couldn’t remember seeing her up over his shoulder. You had to just be forgetting, because there was no way he’d leave her behind.

That train of thought was brought to a halt when the hand on your arm trailed down along your waist and settled possessively on your hip. “I wanted to put in a request for one of your staff members to bring two servings of dinner to my room, for Simon and yours truly.”

Before you could ask if he needed time alone once you were done with dinner, he provided the answer. “We need to go over the fucking outpost inspection results, but I’ll come and find you once it’s done.” It was the second time he’d done that today, answering a question before you had the chance to voice it out loud, which was a sign of how well he was coming to predict your thought process.

You were still a bit in shock at all of this, especially how he was discussing his evening plan with you so publicly and audibly, as if to show that you were more than just his in a physical sense. He was broadcasting to the community that you were what he had already told you last night: his partner. His voice had been low enough that only the nearby tables would’ve heard, but you knew every moment of this interaction would be spread across the entire community within minutes after he left.

Giving a smile and trying to look like ‘yep, this is completely normal, no big deal, I am totally not internally screaming with joy and wanting to climb his fine ass like a tree’, you replied, “Of course. I’ll have it sent up immediately.”

“Thanks, doll,” he said with a final smirk. Then his face morphed back into the intense, badass expression of the Sanctuary’s leader, and he strode out of the cafeteria.

You were left standing there, still a bit shell-shocked by what had just occurred, but also giddy as hell over it. That emotional high was only slightly dimmed by the awareness that now, with Negan gone, you were the sole center of everyone’s attention. A quick scan of the cafeteria showed that most community members were trying not to openly stare. However, the lack of chewing and frequent side glances thrown your way as your legs finally unfroze and started back towards the kitchen were proof that they had all seen Negan’s display of affection.

While the rest of the community might’ve at least been making a feeble attempt not to obviously stare, the same couldn’t be said of the kitchen staff. At least a couple of them must’ve witnessed what happened when serving trays of food, and those members must’ve scurried back to the kitchen to report it to the others. Every single one of them was staring in wide-eyed silence with a mixture of shock and fascinated curiosity when you walked back through the swinging doors.

Even though your face felt heated and you were a bit off-kilter, you still managed to sound slightly firm when announcing, “Alright folks, back to work. And no, I don’t want to talk about it.”

You breathed a sigh of relief when they didn’t argue, but a couple of them did give knowing grins, Trixie included, though at least they all seemed good-natured about it. Trying to act as though your world hadn’t just been spun off its axis with that public kiss, you went over to Ben, who was the only one that had stayed fairly composed the entire time. In fact, his eyes danced with mirth and he was obviously trying to hold back a smirk, so you felt only minimally evil when telling him of Negan’s request that two servings of dinner be taken up to his rooms for him and Simon. Ben gave a playful glare when you told him to take up the food himself, saying it loud enough that some others heard, making him unable to say no without looking a bit suspect.

When the tray was ready to go a few minutes later, you quietly murmured to Ben as he passed by on his way out of the kitchen, “Say hi to Simon for me.” The words caused a hint of pink to flare in his cheeks as he gave a halfhearted glare. You almost felt guilty for teasing him, but knew Ben would more than forgive you when Negan came through on his promise to get Simon his own room.

Though the kitchen staff still threw glances your way here and there, they quickly fell back into their usual routine and no one made any direct comments. You were safe from scrutiny...at least for now. At least no one seemed to have any extreme concerns about what had happened, making you wonder how many of them had suspected what was going on between you and Negan before now.

Once dinner and cleanup were over, you headed back up to your room. Negan had said he would come find you when he was ready, so you planned to just lay back and relax until then.

Oh, who were you kidding. After that kiss, you were totally going to sit on your bed and think about all the dirty things you wanted to do to him the moment the two of you were alone.

Trying to convince yourself that you could be at least semi-productive and pretend to have a hobby other than fantasizing about the leader of the Sanctuary, you pulled the copy of Harry Potter off your bedside table. You were just opening to the first page, planning to restart it again from the beginning, when a firm knock sounded at your door.

Pulse jumping with excitement, you rose from the bed and didn’t even hesitate to cross the room and reach for the doorknob. It never occurred to you that it might be anyone other than Negan, let alone for it to be the last person you’d have ever expected to see at your door. But things had been going so well today that it was almost as if fate was bored with your happiness and wanted to add some drama to the mix.

Totally ignoring the warning prickle that ran up your spine, you opened the door with a welcome smile. It quickly died on your lips at the sight of who was standing on the other side, hands on hips and eyes throwing daggers your way.

It was Amber...and she looked pissed.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

#negan #ash writes #negan's thirst squad #irresistible danger #negan fanfiction #negan fanfic #negan x you #negan x oc #negan x reader #fanfiction #fanfics #twd #the walking dead #jdm #jeffrey dean morgan #twd negan #negan slow burn

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the-headbop-wraith · 3 years

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3 _ 40 _ The Land Time Forgot

Part 2

Before the Mystery Skulls could begin officially on their new assignment, they swung by headquarters office and met with security. Temporary passes went to each member, even the Mystery hound. Once the park was shut down fully and the cleaning crews made the final rounds, the crew took one assigned golf cart over to the Land that Time Forgot attraction. Arthur was issued the keys, and he was the one grumbling about coming out to do this gig.

“Just pretend we’ve been called off holiday for an emergency exorcism,” Lewis, once again, tried to appeal for optimism.

Arthur held the staff access open for his crew. The corridor extending within dark and though the emergency lamps buzzed active, only afforded so much light for them to navigate by. They had backpacks with essential supplies loaded up, flashlight torches among the essential gear, but for the time the trope worked with the shoddy light and let their eyes acclimate.

“I’m goin’ through with this, right?” Arthur snapped. “You go, I follow. Let me have my bitchin’ gripes, okay.”

Mystery set a paw on his knee and yipped.

Through the corridor Vivi led the way, with Mystery behind her, and Arthur with Lewis trailing. “We have maps,” she stated, “but we’ll take a patrol and get our orientation.” She swung around and pointed to Arthur. “Make sure walkies are on.”

Arthur placed a hand on his chest. “I, turn my walkie-talkie off? Never.” He pinched his thumb and forefinger together, and whispered to Lewis, “I turn it down super-duper, itty-bitty low.”

“Maybe don’t confess that.”

The entirety of the ride was inactive and still, like browsing through the clothing section of a store alone, while the mannequins judged your every move. Though the animatronic dinosaurs were not immediately visible, their watchful gaze was felt by the members of the Mystery crew. No draft skittered through the interior building, and despite the abundance of foliage, there was an unnatural ambiance in the dearth of nocturnal presence. Everything about the attraction became otherworldly, detached from an established norm prevalent in the former active day – wherein lights and sound ran rampant. The isolated world of the ride was by perception boundless, yet sterile and contained like an ordinary jelly jar fitted with twigs and a bit of soil to appease a small insect or lizard.

After making the rounds of the ride, the group placed themselves at the loading dock. The carts sat on their tracks within the suspended dividers, where guests could stand to climb in or out of the carts. The dull gleam of an emergency light draped its light over the collected members. Mystery leapt into one buggy and put his paws on the front handlebars.

Yap!

Arthur pulled out a folded page and slapped it to the hood of the buggy. “Okay, fifteen animatronics. All chillin’, save for one.”

“Allo,” Lewis presumed. “Won’t stop, can’t stop. Any idea where our dino-terror might be off to?” Vivi shifted at his side, digging around in her backpack.

“There’s no tellin’ how much truth there is to Mr. Klayton’s story.” She clicked on a torch, but quickly shut it off. “But he’ll likely respond to light or sound, and movement.”

“Like a real T-Rex,” Arthur groused.

“Precisely,” she whispered. “We’ll trust it responds strongly to light, over sound. So be very quiet. Arthur.”

Arthur glared. “Why’re you picking on me?”

Lewis poked his shoulder. “You scream. Very loud. Alerts our foes. Not good.”

Vivi came around to Arthur’s side and clicked on her light, though she kept a had capped to its side. “Our first order of business is determine how much control can be managed over this mechanical nuisance, wouldn’t you say?”

Arthur nodded. “Yeah. Good start.” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “That’ll depend on what’s bugging Allo, or what’s controlling him. That’ll give us a foundation for what we’re dealing with.”

Lewis whistled, and Mystery gave a soft yip. The dog came over to his group and waltzed around them. “Let’s get a move on then. Get this thing flushed out, and see what it’ll do.”

“I’d rather not,” Arthur whimpered.

Vivi pointed to him. “You and Lewis then. You brave boys, see what you can figure out about the deactivated animatronics.” She turned away, studying the abyss of the ride interior. “You wanna start from the exit or entrance?”

“Exit,” Lewis vouched. “You and Mystery then? What’ll you two get up to?” Arthur was already folding up the page, and began rummaging through his own backpack.

“We’ll see about coercing Allo out.” She adjusted her backpack and moved her hand a little off the flashlight. “Don’t worry about us. We won’t get into any excitement without permission.”

Lewis started after her. “But Vii, that’s dangerous!”

From a considerable distance, she called back, “Turn on your walkie! We’ll meet you back here!”

Lewis sighed, and reached around to his backpack for the volume switch. “En un buen comienzo, no es así.” He clicked the transmitter. “Viiiii….” Arthur grabbed him by the sleeve and began dragging him.

“We’ll meet them middle way on the track. The sooner we start, the quicker we can finish.” He spoke, hushed. “But make too much noise, that dino will zero in on us.”

Once released, Lewis hopped off the end of the loading slab and followed. “You have no escrúpulos about this?”

Arthur grumbled under his breath. “Let’s set the record straight, she saved your butt today. Don’t forget that.”

When they moved beyond the range of walls and certified fortifications to guide them toward the world outside, the attraction became more unsettling as the artificial jungle scenery enclosed and thickened around them. High and in the distance, a red sign blazed faithfully above the gloomy fronds towering, but it seemed a mocking landmark, enticing misguided travelers. A lure on an angler fish, while unknown perils lurking like jagged teeth ready to ensnare the gullible.

Trekking within the thicket was monotonous, given that Arthur examined each and all of the inactive puppets dotted throughout the foliage. This task was made possible due to an interesting and terrifying feature of the animatronics; a mirror in the eyes reflected light, similarly to genuine nocturnal animals. By setting the flashlight to their face, it illuminated the eyes and singled out where each machine was if within the appropriate range.

“I’m getting jumpscared trying to find the chill pacifists,” Arthur muttered. He held a clipboard in both hands, while Lewis held a torch. The two sifted among the plastic and cloth replicated plants, working closer to the giant carnotaurus. The animatronic gazed into the endless black, a sentinel. “That thing is a ship with teeth.”

The two stood beneath it, dwarfed.

“Can you imagine if this ONE was running around?” Lewis whispered, but a little too loud. He capped his flashlight. “The damage it’d do.”

Arthur stumbled forward, but Lewis caught him before he could fall. He grumbled about the uneven floor, where fabricated vegetation lay tattered. “Damn. Yeh. Another tally for human interference.” They made the remainder of the way to the column legs. “I haven’t seen all the entrances or exits, but it’d be more practical for them to access a machine with mobility security.” Lewis moved away from him, taking the light with him.

“Here’s another penny for your thoughts.” Lewis aimed the torch down on the carnotaurus feet and prodded the claws with his sneaker. “Allo shredded those fences and bit a poll in two.”

Arthur knelt, the clipboard balanced on his thigh. “Yeah, I was there. Well, sorta. What’re you getting’ at?”

“The wood was reduced to toothpicks. Toothpicks.” Lewis applied more pressure to the claw. “Klayton said the animatronics were made nerfed, so they wouldn’t damage each other if they get into a ‘brawl’.” He did air quotes, momentarily redirecting the slice of light through the canopy. “And to prevent them from tearing up the set. But all the animatronics we’ve looked at, have pliable rubber claws. The toes here, too.”

Arthur wrote onto the notebook pinned to his clipboard. “Good catch. So, our feathered nightmare can’t be a part of this attraction. The question now, where did he come from?”

“Or when he arri—” Arthur leapt up and capped a hand over his mouth.

“Shh!” He went into alert mode, spiked hair standing on end and eyes dissecting the area over-and-over. “The light,” he hissed. Lewis shut the light off. In the blanket of null and sensory deprivation, Arthur uttered, “Yu hear that?”

Lewis wouldn’t dare move, aside from rove through the daunting gloom with his limited visual capacity. However, he trusted Arthur’s perception, there was good reason to be alarmed. Also, Arthur was rarely wrong. For a short time, nothing trickled through to suggest a presence or any direct threat. Then, a faint but ambiguous rustling – it was impossible to determine the direction. He tugged Arthur’s hand down.

“Vivi? Mystery?” he squeaked. The sounds ceased. Not good. “Let’s go this way.” He pushed Arthur sideways. “I hope that thing doesn’t see in infrared.”

“Don’t jinx it— ARGH!” Arthur twisted around, his legs became tangled with Lewis’ ankles and the two collapsed. This incident was to their benefit, when the allosaur launched its snout through the shrubbery and snapped on empty air. “RETREAT!” He took off running, but more shredded, decorative texture in the terrain sent Arthur crashing in a stringy-bean heap.

Lewis rolled aside and plucked up a rock. “You stop that right now!” He brought the suspiciously light rock down on Allo’s head, which succeeded in destroying the fake plaster prop between his palms. The Allosaur seemed to blink off the assault. “I pictured that going a lot differently in my head….”

The allosaur swung its head back and screamed a prehistoric yowl. Lewis grabbed the flashlight he dropped and staggered backwards, mind churning through the benefits of turning tail and running versus trying to face the machine. Bottom line, he needed something to slow it down with. The team studied the machine, it’s many malfunctions, and how to locate the thing….

But forgot to devise the certified way to incapacitate it! And it was going to require more than dropping an anvil on its head.

With a piercing snarl the allosaur thrust its jaws out, cutting the distance between it and Lewis in mere seconds. Its teeth clamped down on soft material and it began thrashing, hissing, and snorting.

Arthur released the chunk of fake palm trunk he swung into Allo’s teeth and back peddled. “I’m all for solving this case lickety-split, but we won’t do much of that in traction.” He snatched away Lewis’ flashlight and searched the ground, until he spied the notebook with the clipboard.

“Valid point.” Lewis began after Arthur, springing over a cracked log. “Vivi!”

“Viv-vi!” Arthur hollered. “Where’s the road?” He jammed the notebook in the backpack and fitted it safely to his spine. One more shield between him and teeth!

Lewis bolted between two close standing trees. “Keep running, the track winds around here. We’ll intercept with them, we gotta! Vivi!”

A fearsome wail shot through the once silent theme ride. Despite the ground Arthur and Lewis covered, the noises of cracking timber and thumping footsteps propelled after them from the oppressive gloom. The thunder and rumble gained, growing intense and closing fast.

Arthur barely dodged a set of small standing dinosaurs, emotionless and motionless in the dark. “Help us, we’re gunna DAI!”

There was absolutely no way some hulking, mechanical nightmare could navigate the staged scenery without alerting her or her companion. The slightest movement issued rustling or crinkling, from the material used to fabricate soil and lush greenery, to the low hanging branches lumped by carefully sculpted cloth, and the canopy high above. Everything smelled artificial and tinged with dust, it reminded her of offices with the fake plants that hung around forever. Not the nice ones that looked real, but the very fake, obvious fake plants with plastic stems and ratty cloth soil with the green Styrofoam base. It was likely more impressive with the lights and sound ambiance of living things, even if artificial. She wished they had a chance to go through the ride and see what it was like.

“Hello!” Vivi called. “Rawr! Rawr-rawr!” Then, she paused and listened. Not an echo nor a snort. Would the animatronic snort? In all the excitement that day she didn’t see much of it in action, aside from its retreating tail end. “That’s ‘I love you’ in dinosaur!”

Bark. Mystery kept his tone low, while he slunk beneath some fern leaves.

“Machines need love too.” She swung her flashlight through the faux grove, a thick haze of dust swirled through the blue beam. “Echo!”

Mystery’s eyes glint as he rolled them. He trotted ahead, sniffing at the ground. It was spongy and soft, a layer of plant fiber set above sand or wood chips.

“Any leads?”

Woof. He toed at a fake collection of rocks – them being fake because they were glued together.

“Maybe the therma frost broke it for good.” She snuck around a tree trunk, the structure made of cement and rock hard. A lush green, petrified tree. “I hope not, I was looking forward to cracking this case.” The light she flashed through the depths of interwoven branches, and wiggled it swiftly like a strobe.

Mystery yipped.

“Therma, perma. What’s the differ—ENCE!” She froze, her light caught the burning glare of twin orbs suspended three meters above the floor. “Mystery….”

Mystery gave a noisy snort and inched forward, but wiht caution. His ears straight, eyes intense.

Vivi let the light trail down. “Hmm?” She swung the light down and up. “Oh, that one’s way too big.”

Borf. Mystery trotted the remainder of the way, with Vivi in tow.

“That looks like a mini-Rex. Baby T-Rex?” she posed. She went up and touched the underside of the belly. “The eyes glow. That’s nice to know.” She continued prodding the mini-Rex. “Squishy.”

Mystery yapped. When she turned a light on him, the hound nodded aside and resumed his trek.

“You gotta admit, they are cool. For cheesy attractions.” Vivi whistled, as loudly as she could muster. Sometimes she would give a hoop, or a holler. “Aside from the technicians, no one else is probably allowed this close to them. Except for Allo nuisance, he does his own thing.” She took a deep breath and gave her loudest yell yet.

Mystery stopped in his tracks and gave her the widest-eyed stare.

Vivi aimed the torch through the brush, listening. “Where could it be? We don’t have the time to search half the park this night.”

A few yards away, Mystery padded up a decorative slanted log and perched at the peak. Nothing to the right, nothing to the left. Yip! He leapt off and landed beside Vivi. He grumbled under his breath and barked.

“Let’s wait ‘til we meet up with them. We might cross paths on the way there.” It would be a while before they returned to the entrance of the ride, but somewhere they had to cross paths with the Allosaur. That is, if the machine was still within the attraction, or within sensory range to her dino-summons. She was beginning to doubt it remained inside the attraction, if like Mr. Klayton indicated, it was becoming more mobile. That was going to be a problem.

“If we can’t draw it out,” she began, “we can’t devise a way to coax it, or restrain it. It shredded a fence just fine, but maybe we can tangle it up in a good net?”

Yarf.

“Cliché. But effective.” A sound from the rear startled her. She whipped around with the flashlight, holding steady and listening. It wasn’t a sound, was it? The fake foliage settling as they passed, nothing ominous or pursuing. “A snare?” She flashed the light over the tree branches. “Hmm. But what sort of cable and how much tension?”

Mystery whined.

“I want to get with Arthur on that.” She turned her light and recoiled! An ominous and hulking shape crouched behind a flowering palm plant. A stegosaur, or something. It stood on four short, but column legs. “I don’t trust the owner, or Ms. Attorney Lady. But I wanna catch him in a lie, and try getting a read if he’s into something shady or….”

The walkie-talkie crackled against her backpack, squealing with a surge of static and muffled yammering, all of what might’ve been voices.

“Or if he’s not very bright,” she ended, in sigh. She unclipped the communicator and snapped the send button. “Lewis! That you?”

“AAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

“Lewis.” She snapped the device away when a roar ripped through.

Mystery sat down and gave his ear a well-deserved scratch.

“Talk to me, boys! What’s happened?” She picked up with a run, the beam of her torch bounded across the uneven terrain and across elephant ear leaves. “I think I know what’s going on, but are you okay?” Mystery caught up at her side, his collar rattling in rapid succession with his zipping stride.

In the background and distant, Arthur came through chattering up a panicked storm, “It found us! We’re bein’ chased— WeWereSoFuckingCarefulThisIsUtterBullShit!”

“Language Arthur!”

“My gods, Lewis! We’re gunna DAI!” The communicator gave a dramatic, electrical wail as Vivi toggled the relay switch.

“Okay! Okay! We’re on our way, don’t panic!”

Bark!

“Who’s panicking?” Arthur wailed. “We’re being chased! We’re so lost, and we’re being chased!”

Lewis hollered through, loud and clear, “Where are you!”

“Not at the entrance.” One of the animatronics was in her path, once again freaking her out – what with all the noises churning through the communicator. “Find your way to the backside! I don’t know where we are! Can you make it to the back? This place is a box, we can follow along the wall—”

A response was not forthcoming, not for her. Lewis gasped, speech labored, “Watch out!” Following came snippets of silence, with patches of Arthur screaming and the Allosaur shrieking. Some sort of distinctive weight thumped, almost vibrating the walkie-talkie in her palm. There was some cussing in there and harsh scuffling. The screech of the Dinosaur became intense, until it was right there in the communicator.

“What’s happening?” Vivi halted in her tracks and listened through the device, terse and powerless.

Mystery shot by, his barks fading as he tore through the pseudo jungle. Vivi resumed in a job, leaping logs and some sort of small animal puppet. The whole time, the communicator was treacherous and silent.

“Hang in there! Mystery and I got your trail!” When she snapped her finger off the transmitter, Arthur’s voice punched through:

“This was a bad idea! I told you guys, didn’t I say? I called it! One Hundred Percent CALLED IT! I’m a fucking seer! AYYYEEEEEE!”

RAAARRR!

“Just shut up and run!” Lewis snarled.

How far the Allosaur was behind them, this was hard to say. It followed with intense, single-minded focus, pronouncing the diminishing stretch by cavernous bellows. The duo was in some horrendous video game level with an instant game over, snapping at their heels.

The jittering beams of their flashlight flickered across the thick fibrous carpet, revealing snags and gleaming across sinister disasters hidden among the shadows. Though, neither Arthur or Lewis paid much mind to the ground beneath them – except to save them from colliding with a low branch – focus was averted high above, to the bright mocking glare of the EXIT sign. It was a beacon in the night, the easiest recognizable landmark in the abyss of the hellish attraction.

“Hang in there! Mystery and I got your trail!” crackled through the radio Lewis gripped, the plastic creaked under intense pressure.

He toggled the transmitter, “THANK YOU!” He was having a hard time keeping up with Arthur, despite inspiration being super motivating.

The Allosaur gave a peeling shriek, the noise of it vibrating in Lewis’ ears, growing louder and more deafening. It was right at his backside.

Lewis scrapped between two narrow trees, nearly getting wedged in the narrow space. A rebounding Thunk! echoed, and the Allosaur hissed. But the sound of it did drift away. However, he did not stop to look or spare a thought, he recovered his speed and tried to catch up with Arthur. He pinpointed him by the sporadic patches of yellow light flittering through the shrubs, and managed to catch his stride.

“Pepper!” he panted.

“Kingsman!” Lewis vaulted over a rock.

“Nice day at the office!”

“Marvelous! Absolutamente asombroso!”

“Technically, it’s nighttime.”

Lewis exhaled, “True!”

A thundering screech crashed through the plastic flora somewhere to the left. The Allosaur was gaining, due to the fact it was not a living animal. On the other hand, Lewis and Arthur ran on fumes.

“The Exit, there should be a door!” Lewis huffed. The red beacon was neigh ninety degrees airborne, a few more meters they should come to the boarders of the building.

The line of his light did hit a sheer and solid surface, which by the explanation of his light revealed a rugged boarder of stone standing at about ten or eleven feet. Well above his height clearance. But there was no clean cut wall, no slate, and no irrefutable explanation of exit. Nothing but a cliff face.

Being more spry and agile, Arthur flew up the wall like a squirrel. He chucked his light up, his hands caught grips with practiced ease and with a small bit of leverage propelled himself skyward.

That looked easy! Lewis jammed the flashlight between his teeth and felt for a handhold. His fingers easily found a knot, he braced his foot and—

Fell backwards. With a hunk of cheap plaster gripped in his hands.

“Lewis!” Arthur set his light down on his teammate, and hissed, “What the FACK?! Get up here!”

Lewis bit down on his flashlight and scrambled to his feet. From his safe perch, Arthur held the light steady while Lewis took another fixture of the coarse wall and shoved his toes into niche. He managed to ease himself up a foot or so, but applying too much weight and the crappy Styrofoam snapped. The outer layer was stiff and scrapped his knuckles when he came down. Lewis looked up at Arthur and they locked eyes.

“AAAAGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

The Allosaur shrieked. Arthur turned his light up, catching the eye sheen of the animatronic as it barreled through the fake jungle. “Oh my god! Um, Don’t move! I’ll get help!”

Lewis spat out the flashlight. “Arthur?” The Allosaur expelled another echoing howl. He turned, angling his light through the thicket. “Arthur!” The soft yellow light that drenched him, was now gone. Lewis had never felt so alone, so utterly betrayed. “ARTHUR!”

The thundering parade of the Allosaur hurtled toward his focal point, everywhere it went the plants rustled and crashed. It snarled, the sounds of its violent procession closing in on him. It must have infrared vision!

Lewis pressed his back against the cold fake rock. The Allosaur bounded through the thicket, the frayed ends of his light brushed against its snout. It closed in with terrible swiftness, weaving around artificial plants, but never once detracting for more than a millisecond. Lewis began inching away, if he timed it right, it might just shatter its CPU. But his timing had to be impeccable.

A blissful light drenched his shoulders, along with a stringy long rope thing. Likely a vine prop. The tale end of Arthur’s hoot, “—Tight!” Came through, and Lewis had enough foresight to piece together the full phrase. Without delay he dropped his flashlight and grabbed the rope.

The Allosaur barreled forward, chewing through the remaining few feet, teeth glittering in the spotlight Arthur cast. Lewis braced himself, he wasn’t sure what for. A Tarzan themed holler peeled from above high, and Lewis shot up at rocket speed. The angle of the line zipped him across the upper edge of the plaster cliff face. He cleared it but barely, his jeans scrapped eliciting a sharp yelp. Out somewhere across the open air, the Tarzan yowl waned in its descent.

Then Arthur really started screaming.

Lewis had to release the vine thing, or he would have gotten skinned on the concrete surface of the floor he was on. He crawled to the edge, and peering down tried to make sense of the swaying murk below. A succession of snarling poured forth of the large, black heap; it thrashed and swept into a stray flash of the yellow beam Arthur held. He thought this was clear indication where Arthur wound up, but the light cut off. He heaved off his backpack and dug through the folders and tools, until his palms clasped the large cylinder camping lamp.

“I did NOT THINK THIS THROUGH!”

He clicked the light on and turned it down. There was Arthur, running around the erratic animatronic. The dinosaur roved in circles, shaking and snapping, not fully invested in chasing the yellow blur. After affording a brief examination, he recognized the actual issue. The other end of the rope was snagged between its teeth, and the animatronic was fighting to cut it free. The line was tangled somewhere, this provided by how every time the Allosaur went to turn on Arthur, it’s head snapped sideways.

“Arthur!” he hooted. “ArthurArthurArthurArthur!” He dashed along the edge of the cliff flailing the flashlight around. “Get over here ya dweeb!”

The rope at last snapped with a grueling CRACK! and the Allosaur swept its snout towards the tiptoeing figure. A peeling shriek, something like an EEEEEEEEEEEEEEE shot out of Arthur as he did a one-eighty and charged out into the jungle thicket.

A rumbling snarl thundered out as the Allosaur resumed its chase, it’s tail flashing out of sight within the shrubbery.

Lewis stamped his foot. “Damnit!”

Meanwhile, Arthur was running for his life. Several times he nearly stumbled or lost his footing. Though he had the advantage of choosing a tight pathway difficult for Allo to pursue, the animatronic was not distracted by a second target. It was able to lay full focus on him, and track him with crazed efficiency. Or frenzy. He managed to catch his second wind in the meager intermission, but his muscles were giving out. Running on the spongey floor was strenuous, and the Allosaur’s grating call was closing in. If it got a clean opening, it would have its jaws on his neck.

There! He took a sharp right, in the line of sight of Allo. The dinosaur lunged, but Arthur already tucked into a stunt roll. Its feet trounced the earth right behind his shoulders, but he kept going until he was back on his feet. At no more than two meters there was some shadow, and bent – what he guessed would be roots – the trees weren’t real. But that black, unmistakable, hollowed space – there was no mistake on what that was. He’d stake his life on it, as he was about to.

The roots were concrete, hard as stone, bent and arched around a gouged hollow beneath the fake tree. Arthur clambered through the wedge, with the Allosaur not more than a breath behind his feet. His immediate thought was, ‘How deep is this!’ He smacked his flashlight against the wall and the light doused, the space around him blacked out. His hands prodded the walls seeking space or drafts, he jammed his elbows and shoulders at every inch, pushing further away from the hissing hydraulics of the Allosaur as it snapped and worked its way after him.

He felt the walls and ceiling, using his legs to kick for any missed crease that might afford an exit. There was nothing but concrete on all sides – left, right, up, and down – solid, unyielding.

“SHIT!”

The Allosaur snapped its jaws inches from his knee. “Fuck you!” Arthur tried kicking its snout, however ineffective it was. The machine twisted its neck and squeezed in further, the servos in its jaws whirling. It wouldn’t help, even if he wasn’t exhausted. He had nowhere to go—

Something snagged his collar and yanked him upward. He gave a little sob.

“Gotcha! I got ya Artie!” Lewis heaved him out of the hollow between the knotted roots, and dropped him on the ground. “You okay?” He adjusted the camping light, checking Arthur over, making sure he was in one piece.

“Yes, fuck! That was too close!” Arthur gave his own body a full pat down. All there, except for the gash in his vest where he fell earlier. All the stuffing on that side fell out. “It almost turned me into bubblegum!” He got onto his feet and paced a bit, before stopping to hunch over and set his palms to his knees. He just needed to breathe a moment.

“Take it easy now, you’re fine.” Arthur took a noisy breath and gargled. “Smooth, climbing into that… what is this? A burrow?” Lewis turned his light onto the opening, where he hauled Arthur out.

“I don’t give a toot what it is.” Arthur rounded the side of the tree, but cautiously. The Allosaur was still being raucous, snarling and grunting. It sounded like they had some time to catch their breath. “Probably for those lil dinosaur thingies. Are they chickens? The small nuggets.”

Lewis quirked his brow and shined the light across his face. “Raptors?”

“Chicken tenders,” Arthur insisted. Lewis came over with the light and stood beside him, observing as the Allosaur persisted with its struggles. And failed to free itself.

“It’s… not getting loose, huh? It’s stuck.” He shined the light lower, against the backside and shoulders of the unruly thing. It was surreal, watching the rubber suit cover on the dinos backside jiggle, but not ripple like the way muscles should. As muscles would, if on a real animal. For most of the night they were running from this thing, and it felt very real, like a hunting predator. Not some deranged AI, or whatever went off with it. Nonetheless dangerous, but creepy and sinister.

“Y’know what,” Lewis went on, stunned, “I think you caught it!”

Arthur gasped. “NO!” He leaned a little closer, but wouldn’t get too close. “No! Really? I did it? I did it! The case is over!” He throws his arms up. “WHOO! I am a mastermind!”

“Don’t get too hyped,” Lewis warned. “We caught it, but we still don’t know what’s up with it, or if someone is controlling it.”

“CASE CLOSED!” Arthur hooted. “Our contract said we have only gotta catch it! Done deal!”

Lewis chuckled and pinched the bridge of his nose. “Por el amor de…” he sighed. “Y’know, lemme be honest, I thought you bailed back there. On that cliff.”

Arthur dropped his arms and gave Lewis a befuddled stare. He winced when Lewis shined the light his way. “What! What kind of loser do you take me for? Abandoning my best bro. Get outta here.” Lewis laughed.

“It was pretty stupid.” He turned the light back onto the Allo. “I have a habit of overestimating myself, getting in over my head. You guys… always come back, and keep me outta trouble.”

Arthur shrugged. “Eh, we’re even now. Right?”

“Right.” He held up his fist. Arthur smirked, and returned the fist bump.

The Allosaur gave a grating wail, gears grind in its neck as the body twisted, the rear legs shoved at the padded terrain. At the cement roots, they crackled and squealed. With another shriek, the Allosaur ripped its shoulders free – a flint of light ignited off the Allosaur’s neck.

“Shit!” Lewis backed up, and pulled Arthur with him.

“Fuck a balloon!”

The Allosaur hauled its arms and neck free, the cement barrier that once caged it snapped apart. Lewis swung his light on the dinosaur, the beam momentarily illuminated a space on its arm torn open, revealing foam and inner padding. It was fleeting, and before Arthur or Lewis could react to what would happen next, the dinosaur veered aside and charged off. Disappearing into the fake foliage of the eerily silent jungle. The thundering footfalls and rustling shrubbery diluted after seconds, until once more silence tormented the fabricated fauna sprawling abundant.

Arthur dropped, but Lewis caught him before he collapsed entirely. The taller figure held onto his friend, and used his other arm to pat his back. Arthur sniffled and shuddered.

“There-there. We knew it was way too easy.”

“We never get a freebee!”

Off somewhere, echoing yaps rebounded through the area. Lewis gave a holler, and reached down to take up the camping lamp. “Over here!” He swung the light around, flashing the vibrant rosy beam through the clutter of petri-timber. “We’re okay!”

“No we’re not!”

Lewis sighed. “We’re in one piece!”

“Yeah!”

Soon, the panting rasp of a dog threaded its way towards the two. Once Lewis was able to interpret the direction, he hauled Arthur with him toward his teammates. “Vivi?”

“Yeppers!” she called. She was not far from the dogy gasping. “You got away from it?” The swaying blue beam preceded the clopping footfalls as she raced to them, out of breath and hair frazzled. “What happened? You’re both okay?” Upon seeing Arthur hanging off Lewis, she handed her flashlight off to Mystery and knelt before him.

“He’s in a little shock.”

Arthur whimpered, “It got away.” Vivi scrunched up her face.

“That’s… not something I expected to hear from you.”

Arthur brought his hands to his head. “No! We managed to trap it—”

Vivi turned her eyes up to Lewis. “You caught it!”

“Eh,” Lewis shrugged. “Isn’t that past-tense?” He moved down the slope, guiding the path with his lamp. “Temporarily snared.”

Vivi groaned, “I miss all the fun stuff!” Arthur balked.

The group examined over the area, inside the warren and the arched cement tree roots, decorative fantasy décor for the ride-goers. Vivi took interest in the snapped root ends, where the rebar stuck out, warped and shattered.

Vivi poked the corrupt end of rebar. “Can we decide how much gauge of cable to use, when we need to catch it?”

Arthur stood nearby, gazing off into the thicket with Lewis’ lamp flittering through the grove. “Sure. I don’t think it’ll have that much tensile strength in its hydraulics.” He perked his lips and nodded his head. “But we’ll work on how to keep it from tearing loose later. We kinda fucked up figurin’ how we’ll get it into the trap, though.”

Lewis was crouched, giving Mystery’s shoulders a rub while the dog laid on the floor resting. “True. But we can vouch that Mr. Allo is on someone’s payroll.” He perked, and stood. “Did you see, Art? It did rip its skin cover, on its arm.”

Arthur didn’t answer immediately, vouching to listen and study the perimeter. “We can try shorting it, given if the interior wiring isn’t insulated. That’s no guarantee.” He patted his own arm. “Insulation takes time to incorporate, and costs extra. It would also bulk out the equipment. So, we can think of that as an alternative, if getting it to behave doesn’t work.”

Vivi stretched and gave a yawn. “Okay, we have some intel to work with. It seems like time to call it a night, sound good?”

“You won’t hear a complaint from me,” Arthur chimed. “Stick a fork in me.” He was already walking away, with Mystery hurrying after. Lewis grabbed up his backpack and followed.

“The Allo might need to recharge,” Lewis mentioned. He took Vivi’s hand, and helped her up a loose fitted slope. “Each animatronic has a battery life for a few days, but we don’t know how long our friend has been running amuck. That might be the reason it took off.”

Vivi adjusted the light between her hands. “We’ll snoop around the park in the morning, try and find where it went and build our game plan. Did you guys hear me, I was making a lot of noise. That thing didn’t give a truck about Mystery or me.”

Ruff!

“I didn’t hear ya, but I’ll take your word for it” Lewis affirmed. “Someone has access to the Allo controls.”

Vivi stroked her chin. “Someone that knows we’re investigating the park.”

Together, Lewis and Vivi did a dramatic, “Hmm….” Simultaneously.

Arthur yawned and rubbed his face. “Can you guys draw up accusations tomorrow? After we’ve slept on it.”

Woof.

Together, the Mystery Skulls navigated their way through the fabricated jungle, trading stories on the encounter with the Allosaur and their escape. At one point Arthur stopped midsentence and in his tracks, then turned the camping lamp around the area they were currently within.

“Where the fuck are we?”

#mystery skulls #Alive!Lewis #msa #mystery skulls fanfic #mystery skulls fanfiction #fanfiction #msa fanfic #msa fanfiction #msa arthur #msa vivi #msa mystery #mystery skulls ghost #mystery skulls animated

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chelsfic · 4 years

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Say You’ll Be My Baby - Steve Murphy x Connie Murphy - Narcos Fanfic

A/N: Title from “Make You Smile” by Elle King (thanks to my Anon of Music for their consistently awesome song recs). That song is pure Steve/Connie to me. This fic is fulfilling my deep desire to just wrap my arms around Steve and Connie. I tried to capture some of Connie’s sassy nature.

Summary: How Connie and Steve get together. That’s it, that’s the story.

Warnings: Fluff!!, Mention of gun violence

---

“...So it wa’n’t fake...”

And just like that he had me. It was that lazy West Virginia drawl rasping over the phone line and caressing the shell of my ear, smooth as Hershey syrup. And the balls it took to actually dial my number after that stunt at the bar. I was intrigued. And I won’t lie--the DEA thing was hot. I felt my lips quirk up in a pleased grin, my stomach fizzing with nervous excitement. I figured we could have some fun together...nothing serious.

The first date was a disaster.

We agreed to meet for drinks. Nothing serious, just some casual fun and then...who knows? Only we never came close to “who knows?” because he stood me up. The worst part was that in the days leading up to the date I had truly grown excited about it. The more I thought about that tall, lithe frame leaning up against the bar, his blue eyes focused on me like I was his whole universe, the more nervous energy I felt churning in my stomach. Until I spent an hour sitting by myself, sipping beer and getting hit on by every guy in the bar. I was not the girl who sat around waiting for a guy to show up. Except that night I was. I left the bar with a lump in my throat and my face burning with wounded pride.

I trudged back into my apartment, alone and wearing my best date-night dress. The answering machine glared at me as I passed through the living room. No messages. Fucking hillbilly asshole.

When the phone rang in the middle of the night, startling me from a deep sleep, I figured it was work. I poked my head up to read the time on my alarm clock. 3:32 AM. Jesus.

“Connie, honey, I am so sorry--” the accent wasn’t so cute now.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked sleepily, my voice hushed but steely. “First you stand me up and now you wake me up in the middle of the night?”

“God, I feel terrible. There was an emergency situation here. At work. And I...it just slipped my mind. Lemme make it up to you.”

I didn’t answer for a minute. I could understand work emergencies. I’m an ER nurse, I get it. What I didn’t want to consider was a man who could forget about me until 3 o’clock in the morning after standing me up.

“Goodnight, Steve,” I sighed, hanging up the phone and falling back into my pillows.

So much for first impressions.

I didn’t see him again for a couple weeks. I sure thought about him enough, though. Why couldn’t I get this guy out of my head? I was ready to dismiss him and never set eyes on him again when he came up to me the night we met. But...somehow he’d wormed his way into my consciousness. I found myself remembering the deep timber of his voice. Every time my phone rang I felt butterflies wondering if it might be him. But he didn’t call.

Finally, fed up and a little drunk after a night out with the girls, I called him.

“You know, the polite thing to do would be to send me flowers or a card or something! You know, really grovel!” I slurred into the phone, cradling it between my ear and shoulder as I stood at my kitchen counter scooping Häagen-Dazs into a bowl.

“Is this...Connie?” he asked, confusion obvious in his tone. “You drunk?”

“That’s besides the point,” I huffed. “I shouldn’t be the one calling you. ‘S not how this works, buddy.”

“And how does it work?” he drew out his syllables, letting his voice melt with intrigue.

“Oh, no you don’t! That stupid, sexy voice isn’t gonna to work on me this time!” I warned him, licking the ice cream scoop.

His laughter floated over the phone line as he responded, “You think my voice is sexy?”

“Shut up! You’re on thin ice. You’re supposed to chase me, beg me for my forgiveness. That’s how it works.”

He infused his voice with mock seriousness, “My apologies, ma’am. I didn’t realize. I’ll get right on that.”

“Good! You better,” I said, hanging up on him and letting the cordless phone clunk onto the countertop. As I stood there, eating ice cream and momentarily congratulating myself, it occurred to me that it was possible I’d regret all this in the morning.

Lucky me, there wasn’t much time for regrets. I was just finishing up my rounds when the Nurse Supervisor dropped a new patient intake sheet into my hands.

“Gunshot wound. Very minor. Just needs some stitches,” and then she was off, rushing past me and trusting me to do my job.

My feet were already leading me down the hallway in the direction of the appropriate exam room when I scanned the paper in my hands and saw the hastily scrawled name at the top. Stephen Murphy.

Gunshot wound. Oh god.

He was up on the exam table when I walked in, long Levi-clad legs dangling over the edge. He sat hunched over, resting his elbows on his knees and pressing a handful of gauze to his neck. I cleared my throat as I walked inside, standing momentarily frozen in the doorway as he turned those striking blue eyes on me. I watched his face light up with a smile that even the blood-soaked gauze in his hand couldn’t dim.

“And here I thought I was havin’ a bad day,” he drawled, wincing only slightly as the movement tugged at the wound on his neck.

“Jesus, Steve!” I breathed, pulling away the gauze and getting my first look at the shallow abrasion along the side of his neck. “This was...a really close call.”

My voice must have betrayed my emotions. I barely knew him, but this sudden, visceral introduction to the reality of his life was somehow pulling me in instead of pushing me away.

He smirked and made light of it, waggling his eyebrows as he breezed, “I know, just an inch to the left and I woulda lost my sexy voice.”

I narrowed my eyes at him and held up the suture kit I was about to open, “Maybe not a good idea to tease the woman about to stick a needle in your neck?”

He held up his hands in capitulation, his smile blinding me as I readied to close the wound. I could feel his eyes on me, watching me stick out my tongue in concentration as I worked.

I addressed him without looking up, “So, I guess you’ll do anything to get out of a date with me, huh?”

He huffed a laugh and I put a steadying hand to the side of his jaw to still the motion.

“Be still, honey,” I murmured under my breath, tying off the last suture. Steve went docile at the touch, looking up at me with stars in his eyes as I bandaged the wound.

“Do we have a date?” he asked, his voice low and unsure. I watched his hands close into nervous fists in his lap.

“I don’t know,” I said, snapping off my latex gloves and dropping them in the trash. “Do we?”

And so our first real date was that afternoon in the hospital cafeteria. Steve insisted on buying my lunch and carrying both our trays despite his fresh injury.

“Eh, it’s nothin’,” he scoffed, but I didn’t miss the wince of pain as he set everything down on the table.

“Big, strong man, huh?” I teased.

He arched his elegant, blond eyebrows in response and his lips tugged up into a smile that cut straight through me. He watched me with that intense stare of his while I fidgeted nervously under his scrutiny, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear and looking down at my plate. I’d never felt like this with any other guy. I was always the cool, aloof one. Never shy and lovestruck like I felt at that moment.

“So...is this something I’m gonna have to get used to? Missed dates and trips to the emergency room?” I asked only half joking. I could feel myself falling into something more serious than I’d intended with this man. Something about him just kept drawing me in.

He snorted, not picking up on my somber thoughts, “I promise you, this is my first trip to the ER.”

“What happened?” I rested my head on my hand, watching as he took an enormous bite out of his turkey sandwich and smiling despite myself.

He took a minute to chew, opening up a packet of mustard and drizzling it onto the sandwich as he considered his words, “Streets are more and more dangerous, Connie. I was out with my partner. Followin’ up on a tip. Broad daylight. Son of a bitch pulled out a semi-automatic and almost blew my head off.”

I shook my head in horror, “Did he get away?”

“Nah, my partner managed to grab him,” he answered, then added laughingly, “Musta been a burst of adrenaline when he saw me get shot ‘cause Kevin can’t run for shit.”

We turned to other topics: family, how long we’d each been in Miami, my job as a nurse. My lunch break flew by and before I knew it I was walking him out to the sidewalk.

“So...I know getting shot and turning up as your patient doesn’t exactly count as wooing you but…,” he broke off with a laugh, ducking his head and looking up at me with those blue eyes I loved already, “You think you’ll let me see you again?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and gave him a stern appraisal, letting my eyes flick up and down his long, long body before shrugging and faking a casual tone, “Sure, you can see me again.”

He grinned, stepping closer and brushing his fingers over my crossed forearms.

“Yeah?” he smirked, holding my gaze until I couldn’t help but return his contagious smile.

“Yeah! If you can remember our dates, that is.”

He put a wounded hand over his heart.

“Ouch! Baby, that hurts! I promise you--,” he broke off, bringing his hand up to cup my face and stroking his thumb along my cheek. I sucked in a breath at his touch. “I promise you, baby, I’ll treat you right.”

He spread his fingers, letting them thread through the flyaways escaping my ponytail, leaning down until our foreheads almost touched.

“Would you get in trouble with your boss if I kissed you now?” he drawled, his eyes already fixated on my lips.

I let my own eyes wander to his mouth. His pouty, pink lips were a little chapped and I watched as he darted out his tongue to wet them. He leaned in even closer until I could feel his breath mingle with mine.

“I don’t think I care,” I answered and then I closed the gap between us and caught him in our first kiss.

He brought up his other hand to cradle my head, moving his lips over mine and flicking out his tongue. I drew myself up on my tip toes, clutching his shoulders and melting against him. I could feel myself surrendering. To the kiss and to this man. Whatever I might have thought when he first swaggered up to me in that bar...I knew now that my life was changing. I felt myself moving inexorably closer to a future that included Steve.

I smiled against his lips before forcing myself to pull away.

“You better call me, Steve Murphy,” I called as I walked away, leaving him standing on the sidewalk with a freshly stitched wound, kiss-swollen lips, and the conviction that he had just had his first kiss with the woman he was going to marry.

Boyd Tags:

@nothing-but-a-comedy @ionlyjoinedforboydholbrook @theplumsoldier @meri47 @lackofhonor

#steve murphy #steve murphy x connie murphy #boyd holbrook #narcos #narcos fanfic #chelsfic #fluff

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hcwkward · 5 years

Text

Hidden Liaisons (18+)

Summary: Hiding from the team leaves you in a very precarious position, namely between the legs of one Steve Rogers.

Ship: Steve Rogers/Reader

Word Count: 2.3k+

Rating: Mature/Explicit

Warnings: SMUT. Specifically: oral sex

Author’s Notes: If you’re under 18, stay away from this fic. This is not a suggestion. It is against the law for you to be reading this if you are under 18.

Tagging: N/A

Want to be added to a tag list? Click here!

The sound of footsteps had your gaze rushing towards the closed door, knowing all too well that the team was on their way. You had to leave, you knew that, but the desire to stay was too strong. Straddled above his thighs, his hands still holding you tightly against him, refusing to cease in the way he rocked your body forwards and backwards, continuing to draw that tantalizing friction between you both.

Pulling back ever so slightly, just enough to pull his lips from that sweet spot on your neck, you had to hold back a huff of laughter at the groan of disappointment that came from deep within him. Gazing up at you from behind long lashes, Steve’s lower lip pouted out slightly, knowing you had to leave yet wishing desperately you would stay so you could continue the enticing actions you were engaged in.

“I should go before they get here,” you spoke in a hushed tone, all too aware of the suspicious gazes you would receive from the group if you were found alone with Steve again. But despite your words your hands remained firmly placed on his shoulders, drawing nonsense against the tightly drawn cotton shirt that sat there.

A heavy sigh came from the blond beneath you, acceptance and resignation settling in his features before he pulled you forwards once more, leaning in for one last kiss. Despit eht fact you knew you had to leave the kiss was still filled with heat, albeit somewhat softer, as if a silent promise of things to come.

The sounds of voices suddenly reached your ears, just on the other side of the door, and you looked to Steve with wide eyes. You had procrastinated leaving for too long, and you were about to get caught. Perhaps it wouldn’t have mattered to some, but you had been so careful about hiding your liaisons, and you’d be damned if you were going to let Stark know he was right about his suspicions about the two of you.

Before you even knew what you were doing you were ducking under the desk, Steve pulling his chair in towards you to help hide you, along with hiding the rather excited state you had left him in.

The grumbled sounds of the rest of the team entering had your full attention as you kept as quiet as possible, silently hoping no one would notice your crouched form hidden under the expansive table. Shuffling of chairs and you found yourself surrounded by legs, thankfully far enough from you that you didn’t have to fear accidentally brushing up against anyone or getting kicked. You kept close to Steve, your forearm leaning against his calf in a silent message that you were staying close.

It felt like forever before the meeting finally started, Tony taking his place in front of the holographic screen as he began to go over excruciatingly dull details that barely held the room’s attention for more than a few minutes. If it felt that long before he had even begun you knew it would seem like an age before the meeting was over, and there you were, trapped under the desk between Steve’s legs without even your phone to keep you entertained.

Suddenly a thought came to you, a wicked grin pulling at your lips as you looked straight ahead at the still semi-erect member in front of you. Well, that was definitely one way to keep yourself entertained, and you certainly wouldn’t hear any complaints from Steve about how dull the meeting was if you went ahead with your plan.

A curved palm kneeded at the still clearly visible bulge in front of you, and suddenly Steve was buckling forwards, his elbows leaning against the table above you as he tried to play off the sudden reaction. You could imagine the stern glare he would be throwing your way if he were able to get away with it, but you knew all too well that he couldn’t, or rather, wouldn’t. There was too much at risk if you should be caught, and the thought of having him right in front of you, completely at your mercy had you beyond excited.

Your other hand traced against the inside of his thigh with a feather light touch, delighting as you watched the muscles beneath clench with excitement.

With an excruciatingly drawn out pace you made your way up, continuing to draw those mindless patterns against his thighs, making a deliberate decision to avoid the place you knew he desired you most. A single finger traced against the edge of his trousers, drawing a soft line against his stomach that had him jostling against your touch once more. Your lips quirked into a smug at the instant reaction, entranced by just how much control you had over the situation, about how eagerly he was responding to your touch despite the fact that the team was surrounding him, filling his ears with boring details of administrative information he couldn’t care less about.

With a wicked grin you began to pull his shirt from his trousers, careful to use the slightest of movements so as to not capture the attention of any of the others that sat around the round table. Only when it was free and the pads of your fingers were able to lightly trace over heated skin did you move onwards.

Taking careful hold of his belt, you made sure one hand sat over the metal of the buckle, ready to stifle any sound the metal might make as you slowly took the belt out from it’s loop, the palm of your hand slowly easing it through the next loop to make sure you had plenty of space.

Your fingers taking a hold of the edge of his boxers, you found yourself with a slight problem. Moving them down to a more appropriate place where you were actually able to continue would require movement from his part, and you weren’t entirely certain how to get that from him without drawing unwanted attention in your direction. But, as if he was able to read your mind, Steve was suddenly shifting his weight back in his chair, his hips lifting just enough for you to ease the fabric down enough to get to what you wanted.

His gaze met yours for the shortest of seconds, a mixture of curiosity and desire flittering through his eyes before quickly being replaced by a seemingly bored look as he returned his attention to the meeting taking place around him, pushing his chair as far in as he possibly could to make sure you were completely hidden.

With a gentle hold you pulled him free of the fabric that remained partially covering him, excitement filling you as you felt his thighs clench once more in anticipation. You had never done anything like this before, but the thrill of your surroundings, of the possibility of being caught seemed to turn you on even more and you could practically feel yourself dripping with desire. There was no way you were going to back down now.

You could feel his dick hardening against your touch before you even began to move, and with just a few careful movements down his length you had him hard in your grasp. It was a gorgeous sight, not only because of that enticing size but the fact that you had him so turned on so quickly.

Your tongue darted out to wet your seemingly parched lips before you even knew it, and you were quick to lower yourself onto him, taking just his head between your lips as you placed a wet kiss against him.

A sudden jut forwards from his hips and he was pushed further against you, his arms reaching blindly out behind him as he struggled to hide his movements in an awkward stretch, his hands clenching in a barely contained desire to grasp at your hair and pull you against him.

Pulling back with a smug smirk, your hand kept him still in front of you. Oh, this was going to be fun. Moving forwards once more you traced a deliberate line with your tongue along the underside of his shaft, careful to not let your lips touch him. You may not be able to make him beg you, but oh how you planned on making him want to.

With your hand making lazy movements against the base of his shaft you returned your attention to his head, swirling your tongue over it before withdrawing once more. Your hand shifts up and down his length in slow light motions and then with intentional lack of warning you take him slowly into your mouth, inching your way along him until you can take no more.

A shuddering sigh from above you and you pause your movements, silently listening as he assures the others he’s fine. Only when his hand comes to stretch over his thigh in a desperate need to hold onto something do you dare continue, taking deliberate slow drags up and down him. You take your time with each bob of your head, knowing there’s little he can do about the way you drew out the excitement, watching as his hand grasped tightly at his thigh next to you.

You could tell he was struggling as his hips shifted once more, desperate to thrust himself into your warm wet mouth, but he had too much self control to give himself away to the rest of the team. Watching him get more and more caught up in your attention, you let your hand rejoin the movements, stroking what you could not fit in between your lips. His fingers stretch out at the sudden extra touch and before he can calm himself you change it up again.

Shifting closer until your body is jammed between his open thighs, you move your head around him, hollowing your cheeks as you feel every part of his girth surrounded by your mouth. The taste of him almost has you moaning, and you consider for a moment dropping your hand between your thighs, desperate for some friction against that swollen bud of nerves, but this is not the time. No, you want to see just how desperate you can make him, just how hard you can make him cum whilst struggling to hide it from his friends.

Another bob of your head and you release him from your mouth, running a figure of eight against his head with your tongue before swiping over it with the flat of your tongue. Your hand continues to pump him, as you lavish his head with attention, barely holding back a hum of approval as you watch him shift again at the feeling.

A gentle kiss against his head and you’re slowly taking him into your mouth again, but you soon find yourself being pushed forwards, his hand moving from his thigh to the back of your head. He doesn’t force you, doesn’t push himself further than you’re able to take, but with his hand tightly wrapped through your hair he guides you into a faster pace, no longer able to take the teasingly slow movements you were making.

You smirk against him, loving the feeling of desperation you feel in the way he pulls you along his length. But you aren’t about to give up control, not now, not after such careful precision in your movements this far. Hollowing your cheeks once more, you let him guide you into the pace he desires, your hand continuing your movements at the base of his cock. A heavy exhale from him and you know he’s close.

With careful motions you move your free hand from it’s spot on his thigh where you had anchored yourself earlier and slip it carefully to his balls, tracing those same feather light shapes against them as you feel him struggle beneath you. It barely takes a moment before you feel his hand tighten in your hair once more, the only warning you get before he’s gushing cum down into your mouth. You don’t stop your movements, taking all that he is able to give until he finally settles somewhat in his seat, a heavy exhalation the only evidence for the team to witness.

A smug smirk plays on your features as you slowly trail your lips off of him, wiping at the corners of your mouth to make sure you had every drop of that sin filled desire. His hand moves to right himself, carefully tucking himself back into his pants before subtly doing up his belt once more.

Somehow time doesn’t seem to go quite so slowly now, you can still hear Tony droning on above you, but the thrill of what you had just done makes it far less painful to witness, and it seems only moments pass before chairs are being pushed backwards and the room is emptying once more. It takes almost a minute before Steve is throwing his chair backwards, his hand stretched out to help out out from your cramped hiding space. A wicked grin is on his lips as he takes in the sight of you, lips still plump from their previous activity, but otherwise looking completely unaffected were it not for the mischief reflecting in both your eyes.

“Some meeting,” he practically exhales the words, his gaze falling to your lips with a quirk of amusement.

You hum in agreement, free hand moving to pat down an imaginary crease in his shirt. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch most of it,” you reply with a playful tone, your features pulled into what was meant to resemble innocence. “My attention was… elsewhere.”

A single huff of laughter falls from his lips as he tugs you closer until your flat against his chest, his hand tracing patterns against your hip. “I think I should probably return the favour,” he speaks in a low husky voice that has you nearly moaning at the very sound.

Excitement fills you instantly, knowing all too well that you were soon to receive the release you craved. “Your place or mine?”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers imagines #steve rogers smut #smut #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu imagines #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #imagine #imagines #my fic

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otheroutlandertales · 5 years

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Anonymous said: Young Ian, Rachel, Denny, and Dottie walk into a bar.

I Heard You’re In Town

by @ianmuyrray

“Ian, oh my goodness!” Her voice pierced through the sound of the pub crowd, generally jovial, celebrating the game on TV. Ian felt a pair of arms wrap around him and hug him tightly.

He turned towards her on his stool, dropping his phone onto the walnut bar. “Hey R--”

“Dots, this is Ian, my friend,” she interrupted, her voice a little loud for how close they all stood. “I met him when we were both assigned to Bahir Dar, a year or so ago.” Rachel grinned wide, her eyes brighter than usual. “We both worked in the OR.” Her dark hair was pulled into two loose buns with flyaways that framed her face, a familiar hairstyle of hers, and she wore a white t-shirt and jeans.

Ian looked at Rachel appreciatively, even as he tried to hide his surprise -- and his joy -- at seeing her again. “We did.” A grin spread across his face despite himself, and he felt warm, as if he was out in the Ethiopian sun with her again, stealing rides in the agency’s Jeep and browsing marketplaces during downtime. She’d changed in the last six months, but only a little. She’d lost her tan, and maybe her hair was a little longer. She was more relaxed, too, free of the urgency and strain of their rural medical encampment.

The blonde woman in a dress next to her stuck out her hand. “You must be the Ian,” she said, dodging Rachel as she tried to elbow her in the ribs.

“The Ian?” he asked, intrigued. He took a sip of his beer to hide his pleasure. When they’d both returned to the States after their assignment, they’d fallen out of touch.

“It’s nothing,” Rachel said quickly. “This is Dottie. She’s thinking of working with MSF, too. Has an interview.”

“A humanitarian, are ye? Congratulations,” he nodded to her, “For what position?”

“RN.”

“Ye look unsure.”

“I’m not--”

“I think she’s a bit frightened--” Rachel said, interrupting.

“I’m not!”

“--but like I keep telling her, she’ll do great. My brother is a reference, and you know how MSF fawns over him, she’s a shoo-in.”

“Ah, Dr. Hunter. Denny. How is he?” Ian asked, remembering her brother’s friendliness and his ability to make difficult decisions very quickly. Ian had once been part of the team to execute those decisions as a nurse who assisted in his surgeries.

“Oh, he’s fine. A bit tired. But when is he not?” Rachel laughed.

Ian turned to Dottie, trying hard not to think about how close Rachel stood to his knee and how her eyes sparkled in the pub lights. “How do ye know Denny, Dottie?”

“I--”

“She’s only met him once,” Rachel cut in. “I introduced them.” She turned to the bartender and ordered a round of beer for the three of them.

“And ye think that will get past the powers that be? They’ll let all of ye work together?” Ian clicked his tongue, pleasantly surprised at how easy it was to slip into an easy-going conversation with her, despite their time apart.

“No,” said Rachel, not looking at him as she plopped down on the stool next to him. He swiveled so his body angled away from her. He hadn’t expected to run into her here and felt unprepared. She powered on. “But not only is Denny a reference, he’ll actually be there at the interview.”

“What?” Ian and Dottie asked at the same time.

“Mm-hm,” hummed Rachel, taking a sip of the beer that had been brought to her, as if she had all the time in the world to respond to their surprise. “He’s attending the interview. Well, perhaps not exactly,” she said, reconsidering, “but he might… pop in.”

“What? You’re kidding!” Dottie rounded on Rachel. Clearly, there was a history there that Ian wasn’t aware of, and he watched the pair closely.

“Well,” Rachel hedged, casting about for an explanation. “I thought you guys hit it off really well the last time you saw him, and thought, you know, it might be convenient to…” she trailed off, met Dottie’s eyes, and flinched. “Dottie, you know you liked him! When you met him, the last time he was in town. God, you guys couldn’t keep away from each other.”

Red in the face, Dottie sputtered as if to deny it, but Ian saw her laughing at herself.

“Oh, you don’t?” asked Rachel, knowingly. “It wasn’t you, then, constantly asking me why I think Denny followed you on Instagram? It wasn’t you that asked me why he might’ve liked this post or that, and who, at one point, wanted to know if it would be appropriate to ‘pop in’ to the coffee shop he said he was at when he was working on that paper? Or how to exactly word your text messages to him when you finally got brave enough, hm?” Her voice rang with certainty, nearly shouting now. She exploded into a burst of laughter at Dottie’s horrified face. “You should see yourself, Dots, you’re smitten! Smitten kitten! Isn’t that right, Ian?”

“Rachel, be chill, for Christ’s sake!” Dottie exclaimed.

Rachel turned to him, her face radiant with laughter and the teasing of her friend. “Don’t you think so, Ian?” she asked again when he didn’t answer.

“Well, I…” Ian hesitated, his eyes darting between Dottie’s anguished embarrassment and Rachel’s sparkling hilarity. “I can’t possibly know.”

Rachel sighed, her mood swiftly changing to something wistful. “Denny and Dottie… You guys would be so perfect together. And we’d be sisters!”

“Rachel,” Dottie hissed, though she smiled wide. “Hush, you’re ruining this.”

“So let me get this straight,” Ian said, leaning back on the bar now. Dottie still stood in front of him. “You both flew all the way from North Carolina to New York, just to feign interest in MSF, just so you can hook up with Denny?”

Both the women looked at him with disgust.

“How dare you, I am a nurse that cares--”

“Dottie is very good at what she does--”

“Alright, alright, calm down.” He rolled his eyes at them and switched gears. “So if you were to get in, where would ye want to be assigned?”

“Well,” Dottie said, “it doesn’t really matter to me. But I’m fluent in French so probably somewhere in Northern Africa, like Niger or something.”

“Mm, or Haiti,” he added.

”Wherever they need me, I’d be happy to work.” Dottie grinned, and Ian saw how the blonde hair, pale eyes, and soft features might strike someone like Denny. “I’m not an OR nurse like you guys; I don’t know how you stomach all the blood.”

“I don’t know how you stomach how your patients can still talk to you,” Rachel quipped, eliciting a startled laugh from Ian.

“There’s blood in your work, too,” Ian said to Dottie, happy to have an excuse not to look at Rachel. She was humming quietly beside him. He was attuned to her like he always had been, like something shimmered in the air around her that only he could see.

“Yuck, but not that much.” She made a face before she pulled her phone out of her pocket. “Oh my god!” she gasped, immediately showing the phone to Rachel, who grinned mischievously.

“Yes!”

“What?” asked Ian, feeling a bit dumb.

“Denny,” the women breathed together, their heads bent over Dottie’s phone. Their faces glowed in the light from the screen as they tittered together.

“It buzzed, just now,” Dottie said breathlessly.

Rachel grinned. “That means he was thinking of you!”

“Of course it does, Rachel, don’t be silly, he can’t text me and not be thinking of me.”

“Oh, Dots! You and Denny! It’s really happening!”

“Nothing is happening, Rach, will you quit it?”

“‘Nothing is happening’? You can’t be serious.”

“But what does it mean?”

“What’s it say?” Ian cut in, unable to help himself.

“‘Dottie, I heard you’re in town, I’m in town too,’” Dottie read. She paused. “That’s it.”

“It means he’d like to see you,” replied Ian. “He knows you’re here for your interview.”

“It does? But he doesn’t say that!”

“Er, no.” Ian grimaced. “But Denny’s like that. Awkward, a bit.”

Dottie rounded on Rachel. “Why does your brother have to be so weird?” she nearly wailed. “Rachel, how on earth am I supposed to respond to this?”

Rachel gave an exaggerated shrug. “I don’t know, don’t ask me.”

“He’s your brother!”

“Yeah, but I don’t know how to flirt with him. He’s my brother!”

“You keep pushing us together, and now you won’t help me? Rach!” Dottie looked terrified, Rachel amused.

“Alright, alright.” Ian held up his hands as if he were surrendering. “I’ll help. Gimme.” He made a grabby motion for the phone, and Dottie handed it over.

“Do ye want to respond to this like a booty call or no?” Ian asked, his thumbs poised over the keyboard.

“Booty call?” Dottie asked.

“Well…” He nodded his head toward the front of the bar, where two large windows shone darkly in the night, streetlights were lit, and brake lights at the nearby stop light reflected on the glass. “It’s late. Do ye want to see him tonight?”

Dottie’s eyes flew wide. “No!”

Rachel laughed. Ian loved that sound.

“Aye, okay. Let’s see, then. We’ll be cool and casual.” Dottie and Rachel stood at either shoulder, their heads bent conspiratorially together. “‘What a funny coincidence,��” he narrated as he typed, “‘that we should be in the same city at the same time. What should we do about that, do you think?’”

“Send!” Rachel squealed and Dottie groaned, even as she laughed.

“Fine, fine!” Dottie grabbed the phone and sent the message along without bothering to glance at it. She saw Ian’s surprise and shrugged at him. “Why not?”

Ian laughed. “Glad I’m of some use.”

“You’re of use,” Rachel said, and even in her playful correction, her face was soft and appreciative as she looked at him. She was standing very close to him now, and he nearly backed away with the shock of realizing it.

“What’s this?” Dottie asked, her eyes darting back and forth between them.

“Nothing,” Ian and Rachel said together, but too quickly. They both looked at each other and laughed. Ian felt the strange impulse to embrace her, but he held back, fearing the awkwardness that could so easily spring between them.

“It’s nothing,” Rachel said again, placing a hand on Ian’s arm, the touch so brief he might have imagined it. “C’mon, Dottie, we should go.” She glanced back at Ian. “I’ll be in touch,” she said to him. “See you soon?”

She was still standing close to him, perhaps she had stepped even closer without him realizing it; he could feel the warmth of her, even in the crowded bar. Maybe it was just the beer. “I’ll be here.”

She smiled, and he wanted to kiss her, but before he knew it, she was gone as quickly as she had arrived, tugging an astonished Dottie away by the elbow.

Later that night, when Rachel was tucked into the starchy sheets of her hotel bed, her phone lit up with a notification that made her heart leap: Rachel, I heard you’re in town. I’m in town, too.

#outlander fanfiction #otheroutlandertales #mod muy #pair: Young Ian x Rachel #pair: Denny x Dottie #ch: young ian #ch: rachel #ch: dottie #ch: denny #modern au #category: mf #oot #*

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achronologyofbits · 4 years

Text

GOTY 2019

I wanted to write a personal Game of the Year list, but I realized I really didn’t play that many games that were new in 2019. So I’m ranking them, but it’s less a “top 10” and more a “10 games I played and how I felt about them.”

10. Kingdom Hearts III

Kingdom Hearts III plays like a game from 2005.

I’m not sure I can fully articulate what I mean by that. Maybe I mean its combat is largely simplistic and button-mashy. Maybe I mean its rhythms of level traversal and cutscene exposition dumps are archaic and outdated. Maybe feeling like this game is a relic from another time is unavoidable, given how many years have passed since its first series entry.

But there’s also something joyful and celebratory about it all — something kind of refreshing about a work that knows only a tiny portion of its players will understand all its references and lore and world-building, and just doesn’t care.

Despite all the mockery and memery surrounding its fiction, Kingdom Hearts’ strongest storytelling moments are actually pretty simple. They’re about the struggle to exist, to belong, and to define what those things mean for yourself. I think that’s why the series reaches the people it does.

Those moments make Kingdom Hearts III worth defending, if not worth recommending.

9. Sekiro: Shadows Die Twice

Admittedly, I only played about 10-15 hours of this in 2019. Perhaps fittingly, that’s about the amount of time I originally spent on Dark Souls when it released in 2011. I bounced off, hard, because I didn’t understand what it was asking of me. Once I did — though, it has to be said, I needed other people to explain those expectations to me, because the game sure as hell didn’t — Dark Souls became an all-time favorite. And I’ve played every FromSoft game since then, and enjoyed them all. Until Sekiro.

Part of it is, again, down to expectation. Dark Souls trained its players on a certain style of combat: cautious movements, careful attention to spacing, committing to weighty attacks, waiting for counterattacks. In every game since then, FromSoft have iterated on those expectations in the same direction in an attempt to encourage players to be less cautious and more aggressive. The series moved from tank-heavy play in Dark Souls, to dual-wielding in DS2, to weapon arts and reworking poise in DS3, to the system of regaining health by attacking in Bloodborne.

In some ways, Sekiro is a natural continuation of this trend toward aggression, but in others, it’s a complete U-turn. Bloodborne eschewed blocking and prioritized dodging as the quickest, most effective defensive option. Sekiro does exactly the opposite. Blocking is always your first choice, parrying is essential instead of largely optional, and dodging is near useless except in special cases. FromSoft spent five games teaching me my habits, and it was just too hard for me to break them for Sekiro.

I have other issues, too — health/damage upgrades are gated behind boss fights, so grinding is pointless; the setting and story lack some of the creativity of the game’s predecessors; there’s no variety of builds or playstyles — but the FromSoft magic is still there, too. Nothing can match the feeling of beating a Souls-series boss. And the addition of a grappling hook makes the verticality of Sekiro’s level design fascinating.

I dunno. I feel like there’s more here I’d enjoy, if I ever manage to push through the barriers. Maybe — as I finally did with the first Dark Souls, over a year after its release — someday I will.

8. Star Wars Jedi: Fallen Order

In December, my wife and I traveled to Newport Beach for a family wedding, and we stayed an extra day to visit Disneyland. As an early birthday present, Aubrey bought me the experience of building a lightsaber in Galaxy’s Edge. And the experience is definitely what you’re paying for; the lightsaber itself is cool, but it’s cool because it’s made from parts I selected, with a blade color I chose, and I got to riff and banter with in-character park employees while doing it. (“Can you actually read those?” one asked me in an awed voice, when I selected a lightsaber hilt portion adorned with ancient Jedi runes. “Not yet,” I told her. “We’ll see if the Force can teach me.”)

Maybe it’s because I just had that experience, but by far my favorite moment in Jedi: Fallen Order is when main character Cal Kestis overcomes his own fears and memories to forge his own lightsaber, using a kyber crystal that calls to him personally. It’s maybe the only part of the game that made me feel like a Jedi, in a way the hours of Souls-inspired lightsaber slashing didn’t.

I think that’s telling. And I think it’s because so much of Fallen Order is derivative of other works, both in the current canon of gaming and of Star Wars. That’s not to say it’s bad — the mélange of Uncharted/Tomb Raider traversal, combat that evokes Souls and God of War, and vaguely Metroid-y power acquisition and exploration mostly works — but it’s just a titch less than the sum of those parts.

Similarly, as a Star Wars story, it feels under-baked. There’s potential in exploring the period immediately after Order 66 and the Jedi purge, but you only see glimpses of that. And I understand the difficulty of telling a story where the characters succeed but in a way that doesn’t affect established canon, but it still seemed like there were a couple of missed opportunities at touching base with the larger Star Wars universe. (And the one big reference that does pop up at the end feels forced and unrealistic.)

When I got home from California, I took my lightsaber apart just to see how it all worked. Outside of the hushed tones and glowing lights of Savi’s Workshop, it seems a little less special. It’s still really cool…but I sort of wish I had had a wider variety of parts to choose from. And that I had bought some of the other crystal colors. Just in case.

That’s how I feel about Jedi: Fallen Order. I had fun with it. But it’s easier now to see the parts for what they are.

7. Untitled Goose Game

Aubrey and I first saw this game at PAX, at a booth which charmingly recreated the garden of the game’s first level. We were instantly smitten, and as I’ve introduced it to family and friends, they’ve all had the same reaction. When we visited my brother’s family in Florida over the holidays, my eight-year-old niece and nephew peppered me with questions about some of the more complex puzzles. Even my father, whose gaming experience basically topped out at NES Open Tournament Golf in 1991, gave it a shot.

I’m not sure I have a lot more to say here, other than a few bullet points:

1) I love that Untitled Goose Game is completely nonviolent. It would’ve been easy to add a “peck” option as another gameplay verb, another means of mischief. (And, from what I understand, it would be entirely appropriate, given the aggression of actual geese.) That the developers resisted this is refreshing.

2) I’m glad a game this size can have such a wide reach, and that it doesn’t have to be a platform exclusive.

3) Honk.

6. Tetris 99

Despite the number of hours I’ve spent playing games, and the variety of genres that time has spanned, I’m not much for competitive gaming. This is partially because the competitive aspect of my personality has waned with age, and partially because I am extremely bad at most multiplayer games.

The one exception to this is Tetris.

I am a Tetris GOD.

Of course, that’s an incredible overstatement. Now that I’ve seen real Ecstasy of Order, Grandmaster-level Tetris players, I realize how mediocre I am. But in my real, actual life, I have never found anyone near my skill level. In high school, I would bring two Game Boys, two copies of Tetris, and a link cable on long bus rides to marching band competitions, hoping to find willing challengers. The Game Boys themselves became very popular. Playing me did not.

Prior to Tetris 99, the only version of the game that gave me any shred of humility in a competitive sense was Tetris DS, where Japanese players I found online routinely handed me my ass. I held my own, too, but that was the first time in my life when I wasn’t light-years beyond any opponent.

As time passed and internet gaming and culture became more accessible, I soon realized I was nowhere near the true best Tetris players in the world. Which was okay by me. I’m happy to be a big fish in a small pond, in pretty much all aspects of my life.

Tetris 99 has given me a perfectly sized pond. I feel like I’m a favorite to win every round I play, and I usually finish in the top 10 or higher. But it’s also always a challenge, because there’s just enough metagame to navigate. Have I targeted the right enemies? Do I have enough badges to make my Tetrises hit harder? Can I stay below the radar for long enough? These aspects go beyond and combine with the fundamental piece-dropping in a way I absolutely love.

The one thing I haven’t done yet is win an Invictus match (a mode reserved only for those who have won a standard 99-player match). But it’s only a matter of time.

5. Pokemon Sword/Shield

I don’t think I’ve played a Pokemon game through to completion since the originals. I always buy them, but I always seem to lose steam halfway through. But I finished Shield over the holidays, and I had a blast doing it.

Because I’m a mostly casual Pokeplayer, the decision to not include every ‘mon in series history didn’t bother me at all. I really enjoyed learning about new Pokemon and forcing myself to try moving away from my usual standards. (Although I did still use a Gyarados in my final team.)

As a fan of English soccer, the stadium-centric, British-flavored setting also contributed to my desire to see the game through. Changing into my uniform and walking onto a huge, grassy pitch, with tens of thousands of cheering fans looking on, really did give me a different feeling than battles in past games, which always seemed to be in weird, isolated settings.

I’m not sure I’ll push too far into the postgame; I’ve never felt the need to catch ‘em all. But I had a great time with the ones I caught.

4. The Legend of Zelda: Link’s Awakening

I have a strange relationship with the Zelda series, especially now. They are my wife’s favorite games of all time. But I don’t know if I’ve ever actually sat down and beaten one since the original Link’s Awakening. Even with Breath of the Wild, which I adore, I was content to watch Aubrey do the heavy lifting. I know the series well, I’ve played bits of all of them, but most haven’t stuck with me.

Link’s Awakening has. I wrote a piece once about its existential storytelling and how it affected me as a child. I love the way the graphics in this remake preserve that dreamlike quality. It’s pretty much a re-skin of the original game, but the cutesy, toy-set aesthetic pairs well with the heavy material. If this is all a dream, whose dream is it? And when we wake up, what happens to it?

Truthfully, some of the puzzles and design decisions haven’t held up super well. Despite the fresh coat of paint, it definitely feels like a 25-year-old game. But I’m so glad this version exists.

Oh, and that solo clarinet in the Mabe Village theme? *Chef’s kiss*

3. Control

I actually haven’t seen a lot of the influences Control wears on its sleeve. I’ve never gone completely through all the episodes of the X-Files, Fringe, and Twin Peaks; I’m only vaguely familiar with the series of “creepypasta” fiction called SCP Foundation; and I have never endeavored to sit through a broadcast of Coast to Coast AM. I’m also unfamiliar with Remedy’s best-known work in the genre, Alan Wake. But I know enough about all those works to be able to identify their inspiration on the Federal Bureau of Control, Jesse Faden, and the Oldest House.

Control is an interesting game to recommend (which I do), because I’m not sure how much I really enjoyed its combat. For most of the game, it’s a pretty standard third-person shooter. You can’t snap to cover, which indicates you’re intended to stay on the move. This becomes even more obvious when you gain the ability to air dash and fly. But you do need to use cover, because Jesse doesn’t have much health even at the end of the game. So combat encounters can get out of hand quickly, and there’s little incentive to keep fighting enemies in the late game. Yet they respawn at a frustratingly frequent rate. The game’s checkpointing system compounds this — you only respawn at “control points,” which act like Souls-style bonfires. This leads to some unfortunately tedious runbacks after boss fights.

On the other hand, Jesse’s telekinesis power always feels fantastic, and varying your attacks between gunshots, thrown objects, melee, and mind controlling enemies can be frenetic fun. That all comes to a head in the game’s combat (and perhaps aesthetic?) high point, the Ashtray Maze. To say more would be doing a disservice. It’s awesome.

The rest of the gameplay is awesome, too — and I do call it “gameplay,” though unfortunately you don’t have many options for affecting the world beyond violence. The act of exploring the Oldest House and scouring it for bureaucratic case files, audio recordings, and those unbelievably creepy “Threshold Kids” videos is pure joy. The way the case files are redacted leaves just enough to the imagination, and the idea of a federal facility being built on top of and absorbed into a sort of nexus of interdimensional weirdness is perfectly executed. And what’s up with that motel? And the alien, all-seeing, vaguely sinister Board? So cool.

With such great worldbuilding, I did wish for a little more player agency. There are no real dialogue choices — no way to imbue Jesse with any character traits beyond what’s pre-written for her — and only one ending. This kind of unchecked weird science is the perfect environment for forcing the player into difficult decisions (what do we study? How far is too far? How do we keep it all secret?), and that just isn’t part of the game at all. Which is fine — Control isn’t quite an immersive sim like Prey, and it’s not trying to be. I just see some similarities and potential, and I wish they had been explored a little.

But Control’s still a fantastic experience, and in any other year, it probably would’ve been my number one pick. That’s how good these next two games are.

2. Outer Wilds

Honestly, this is the best game of 2019. But I’m not listing it as number one because I didn’t play most of it — Aubrey did. Usually we play everything together; even if we’re not passing a controller back and forth, one of us will watch while the other one plays. And that definitely happened for a large chunk of Outer Wilds. But Aubrey did make some key discoveries while I was otherwise occupied, so while I think it’s probably the best game, it’s not the one I personally spent the most time with.

The time I did spend, though? Wow. From the moment you wake up at the campfire and set off in search of your spaceship launch codes, it’s clear that this is a game that revels in discovery. Discovery for its own sake, for the furthering of knowledge, for the protection of others, for the sheer fun of it. Some games actively discourage players from asking the question, “Hey, what’s that over there?” Outer Wilds begs you to ask it, and then rewards you not with treasure or statistical growth, but with the opportunity to ask again, about something even more wondrous and significant.

There are so many memorable moments of discovery in this game. The discovery that, hey, does that sun look redder to you than it used to? The discovery that, whoa, why did I wake up where I started after seemingly dying in space? Your first trip through a black hole. Your first trip to the quantum moon. Your first trip to the weird, bigger-on-the-inside fog-filled heart of a certain dark, brambly place. (Aubrey won’t forget that any time soon.)

They take effort, those moments. They do have to be earned, and it isn’t easy. Your spaceship flies like it looks: sketchy, taped together, powered by ingenuity and, like, marshmallows, probably. Some of the leaps you have to make — both of intuition and of jetpack — are a little too far. (We weren’t too proud to look up a couple hints when we were truly stuck.) But in the tradition of the best adventure games (which is what this is, at heart), you have everything you need right from the beginning. All you have to do is gather the knowledge to understand it and put it into action.

And beyond those moments of logical and graphical discovery, there’s real emotion and pathos, too. As you explore the remnants of the lost civilization that preceded yours, your only method of communication is reading their writing. And as you do, you start to get a picture of them not just as individuals (who fight, flirt, and work together to help each other), but as a species whose boundless thirst for discovery was their greatest asset, highest priority, undoing, and salvation, all at once.

I don’t think I can say much more without delving into spoilers, or retreading ground others have covered. (Go read Austin Walker’s beautiful and insightful review for more.) It’s an incredible game, and one everyone with even a passing interest in the medium should try.

(Last thing: Yes, I manually flew to the Sun Station and got inside. No, I don’t recommend it.)

1. Fire Emblem: Three Houses

If I hadn’t just started a replay of this game, I don’t think I’d be listing it in the number one slot. I started a replay because I showed it to my brother when we visited him in Florida last month, and immediately, all the old feelings came flooding back. I needed another hit.

No game this year has been as compelling for me. That’s an overused word in entertainment criticism, but I mean it literally: There have been nights where I absolutely HAVE to keep playing (much to Aubrey’s dismay). One more week of in-game time. One more study session to raise a skill rank. One more meal together so I can recruit another student. One more battle. Just a little longer.

I’m not sure I can put my finger on the source of that compulsion. Part of it is the excellence of craftsmanship on display; if any technical or creative aspect of Three Houses was less polished than it is, I probably wouldn’t feel so drawn to it. But the two big answers, I think, are the characters and their growth, both mechanically and narratively.

At the start of the game, you pick one of the titular three houses to oversee as professor. While this choice defines who you’ll have in your starting party, that can be mitigated later, as almost every other student from the other two houses can be recruited to join yours. What you’re really choosing is which perspective you’ll see the events of the story from, and through whose eyes: Edelgard of the Black Eagles, Dimitri of the Blue Lions, or Claude of the Golden Deer. (This is also why the game almost demands at least three playthroughs.)

These three narratives are deftly written so you simultaneously feel like you made the only possible canonical choice, while also sowing questions into your decision-making. Edelgard’s furious desire for change is just but perhaps not justifiable; Dimitri hides an obsession with revenge behind a façade of noblesse oblige; Claude is more conniving and pragmatic than he lets on. No matter who you side with, you’ll eventually have to face the others. And everyone can make a case that they, not you, are on the right side.

This is especially effective because almost every character in Three Houses is dealing with a legacy of war and violence. A big theme of the game’s story is how those experiences inform and influence the actions of the victims. What steps are justified to counteract such suffering? How do you break the cycle if you can’t break the power structures that perpetuate it? How do good people end up fighting for bad causes?

While you and your child soldiers (yeah, you do kind of have to just skip over that part; they’re in their late teens, at least? Still not good enough, but could be worse?) are grappling with these questions, they’re also growing in combat strength, at your direction. This is the part that really grabbed me and my lizard brain — watching those numbers get bigger was unbelievably gratifying. Each character class has certain skill requirement prerequisites, and as professor, you get to define how your students meet those requirements, and which they focus on. Each student has certain innate skills, but they also have hidden interests that only come to the surface with guidance. A character who seems a shoo-in to serve as a white mage might secretly make an incredibly effective knight; someone who seems destined for a life as a swordsman suddenly shows a talent for black magic. You can lean into their predilections, or go against them, with almost equal efficacy.

For me, this was the best part of Three Houses, and the part that kept me up long after my wife had gone to bed. Planning a student’s final battle role takes far-seeing planning and preparation, and each step along the way felt thrilling. How can you not forge a connection with characters you’ve taken such pains to help along the way? How can you not explode with joy when they reach their goals?

That’s the real draw of Fire Emblem: Three Houses, I think: the joy of seeing people you care about grow, while simultaneously confronting those you once cared about, but who followed another path. No wonder I wanted to start another playthrough. I think I’ll be starting them all over again for a long time.

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ravenclawshavemorefun · 5 years

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Monstre Aux Yeux Verts 《a miraculous ladybug fanfiction》 chapter 5

Adrian can't stop thinking about the night before. Supper at Marinette's was the most fun he'd had in a very long time. Adrian was young when his mother disappeared but he still remembered how she made everything fun, even boring every day tasks. He remembered going to the park with her, movie nights, and even cleaning his bedroom, but he never remembered having a meal as a family like they did at Marinette's. They joked and laughed with eachother during and after the meal while they all cleaned up together. Adrian had been more than happy to help out, they treated him like part of the family. Although Luka was there also, he felt closer to Marinette than he had ever felt before.

"What are you thinking about?" Plagg asks packing away some camembert in Adrian's backpack for the school day, "you're smiling and laughing at nothing like a crazy person over there."

"Last night." Adrian laughs.

"What was so great about it? They didn't even have a cheese platter."

"All you think about is your own stomach, Plagg. When i have my own family, we'll have all our meals like that."

"Cheese-less?!" Plagg gasps.

"No!" Adrian laughs, "together and fun."

"Whatever you say, kid."

There's a knock at the door and Natalie opens the door a crack, "Adrian, your breakfast is getting cold and you have 10 minutes before you need to leave for school."

"Thank you, Natalie, but I'm not very hungry." Adrian says packing up the rest of his things and heading to the door.

"Is everything alright?" She asks in her usual way: deadpan, like it didn't matter to her either way, but Adrian knew her better.

"Don't worry," he smiles at her, "everything's great, i just had a large supper last night."

She nods, "i hope it was a pleasant evening." They start walking to the front door where his bodyguard is waiting to take him to school.

"It was so fun!" Adrian gushes, "Mr. Dupain is so funny! He played a prank on us with wasabi flavored macaroons and had us laughing all night! Mrs. Dupain-Chang is so nice and Marinette-" he blushes, "she's just really great. Do you think father will allow me to go out like that more often?"

"I'm not sure, Adrian, that is a question for him."

They reach the front door. "Right." He says deciding to not get his hopes up.

"Have a productive day at school." Natalie says as he and his bodyguard walk out, he waves goodbye.

"Marinette!" Her mother calls up the stairs, "if you don't hurry you're going to be late!"

"Coming, mom!" She calls back, throwing her stuff in her bag.

"Last night seemed like a success." Tikki states optimistically, "Adrian looked very happy."

"I hope so, Tikki. I had no idea he was dealing with so much at home."

"It really makes you appreciate what you have, doesn't it?" Tikki asks getting into her hiding spot.

"It sure does. I hope the advice i gave him works and things get better for him." Marinette says nervously.

"Don't worry so much, Marinette, it was great advice."

She runs downstairs and grabs an apple to eat on the way to school.

"Marinette, tell your friends i can make more wasabi macaroons if they'd like!" Her father laughs.

"Oh, dad, you're not that funny!" Marinette says despite laughing as well.

Alya was standing with Nino and Adrian on the steps of the school waiting for her. "Hey, girl, we were about to give up on you being on time today!" Alya says smiling.

"Sorry, guys!" She says hurrying up the steps. In her hurry she misses a step and flys forward. Adrian catches her in a hug. "Ugh! Sorry!" She blushes, "honestly, it's beyond surprising I've never broken a bone considering how 'graceful' i am."

Adrian pulls her into a standing position chuckling, "you okay?" He pulls away a little but keeps a hand on the small of her back.

Marinette puts a hand on his arm and moves away to a more appropriate distance for 'just friends'. "Yeah, thank you." She self consciously looks away at Nino and Alya who both have a strange look on their face that she can't read. "Are we ready to go in?" She asks. They all walk towards the door, Adrian holds it open for her. "He seems happier, at least" she thought to herself.

Waiting for class to start, Alya nudges Marinette, "what happened after Nino and i left yesterday?" She whispers.

"Well, Adrian and Luka stayed for supper..." Marinette whispers back.

"And?"

Marinette's confused, "and that's it. Why?"

"Adrian's acting a little different today is all, i was just curious." Alya smiles like she knows something Marinette doesn't.

"How's it going, dude?" Nino asks Adrian then adds in a whisper, "what was the deal with you and Marinette earlier?"

"What do you mean?" Adrian asks feeling a little warm.

"Did you tell her?" Nino asks.

Adrian shushes him even though he was already whispering, "no, she doesn't know, but... I'm going to tell her." He decides impulsively.

"Everything?" Nino asks eyes wide.

"Probably not the stalking and spying stuff but yeah, I'm gonna tell her i love her."

"Woah, dude! Too soon!" Nino hisses, "you can't just tell a girl you love her out of nowhere!"

"You can't? Why not?"

"Well... 'cause you can't. You gotta start slow. Like asking her out first. Is her date with Luka still on?"

Adrian gets that burning sensation in his stomach, "how am i supposed to know?"

"Is there something you'd like to share with the class, Adrian? Nino?" Startled, they shake their heads. "May we start class then?" The teacher asks amidst giggles from the rest of the class. Adrian looks down at his books a little embarrassed. And class begins.

"Adrian seemed to have a good evening at the Dupain-Chang's." Natalie states to Mr. Agrest.

"I'm aware, but it's only a matter of time before his heart brakes." Mr. Agrest says certainly.

"Are you sure Miss. Dupain-Chang wouldn't want to be in a relationship with Adrian? We won't wait that long to akumatize him will we?"

"Of course not, Natalie, i have back up plans to be sure he will be akumatized before the week is out. Then i will have the miraculous and our family will be one again." Mr. Agrest gazes at a photo of his wife and Natalie nods feeling conflicted.

School passes quickly, at lunch Alya, Nino, Marinette, and Adrian are all sitting together talking and eating when Alya says, "it's been a really long time since anyone has been akumatized, hasn't it? I hope that doesn't mean something big is coming."

Marinette and Adrian realise she's right and their eyes widen. Nino says, "yeah, it's been almost a week. Maybe Hawkmoth gave up." He adds hopefully.

The room quiets a little then hushed whispers give the illusion the room was full of snakes. The four of them look around to see what's going on. "What's Luka doing here?" Alya asks.

Adrian looks at Marinette and watches her cheeks get pink, "i don't know, maybe he has to drop something off with Juleka."

"Most guys don't bring their sister flowers at school." Nino scoffs. Adrian quickly looks at Luka, sure enough he was carrying a medium sized bakery box and just a single pink flower.

"Hey, guys, i have a long lunch break so i thought I'd stop by and eat with you." He sat next to Marinette and held out the pink flower to her, "this is for you, Mari, i saw it and thought of you." She took the flower and thanked him, blushing furiously.

"What's in the box?" Alya asks.

"Oh, i stopped by the bakery, your parents said these are your favorite dessert, and i made your dad swear they aren't wasabi flavored." Luka laughs. They all laugh with him and grab a macaroon from the box. They were red strawberry with chocolate filling and dark chocolate with mint filling the colors of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Adrian gets an idea, as Chat Noir he's much more confident, he could tell Marinette tonight as Chat Noir. Feeling more confident, Adrian takes a bite of his dark chocolate and mint macaroon. He'll just have to bide his time until then.

Marinette felt very self conscious with the whole room looking at her and Luka sitting together. Luka seems to read her mind, "i hope it was okay that i came here," he takes her hand and whispers in her ear, "i didn't realize it would cause such a scene."

Marinette gives his hand a squeeze and whispers back, "I'm glad you came."

Once everyone got used to Luka being there everything went back to normal and the rest of the school day was mostly uneventful.

That evening after the meeting with Jagged Stone Marinette and Tikki decided Ladybug should go around the city and check things out. "It's strange that Hawkmoth hasn't made any moves lately." Tikki says suspiciously.

"I agree. He wouldn't just give up, he must have something big planned." Marinette says setting her stuff aside on her desk. "Let's make our rounds, Tikki, spots on!"

Nothing seemed out of ordinary around Paris, after a couple hours flying around the city, Ladybug decided it was time to go home. She lands on her rooftop terrace and feels a presence there with her. "Who's there?" She calls swinging her yoyo.

"Woah, milady, it's just me." Chat Noir steps out of the shadows.

"What are you doing here?" They both ask at the same time.

Chat Noir laughs, "i just wanted to talk to Marinette."

"'Talk to Marinette'?" Ladybug repeats, "why?"

Chat looks uncomfortable, "well... i just... why are you here?" He changes the subject.

"I am... checking things... around the city." She says carefully, "don't you think it's strange that Hawkmoth hasn't made a move lately?"

"The thought has crossed my mind. Did you find anything?"

"No." She says half relieved but still a little apprehensive.

"Well, i guess all we can do is wait." Chat says sitting in one of the lawn chairs.

"What are you doing, Chat?" Ladybug asks crossing her arms.

"What? Nothing. Waiting." Chat says nervously.

"Here? You're up to something, i can feel it." Ladybug tapps her foot waiting.

Chat gives her a long look. "Okay, look. I've been waiting so long for you to love me like i love you, and I've realized that it's just not going to happen."

Ladybug sits in the other lawn chair. "I'm sorry, Chat-" she begins but is interrupted.

"No, let me finish. You are a great friend and partner, so I'll always care about you, but I've decided i need to move on."

Ladybug is surprised to feel a little stung, "but what does Marinette have to do with it?"

"I have feelings for her." Chat says quietly looking away.

Ladybug mentally facepalms. Of course that stupid cat would "move on" to the same dang person except without the mask. "You know you can't reveal your true identity to her, right?"

"Yeah." He sighs.

"What kind of relationship would that be if she can't truly know you?" Ladybug cuts herself with her own double edged sword. How could she be in a relationship with Luka if he couldn't truly know her?

Chat Noir interrupts her thoughts, "so what? We can't be in relationships ever? That doesn't seem fair! Everyone has secrets! Everyone!" He has a point, she thought to herself. "I don't care if you think I'm selfish, i have to tell her. Tonight." He adds stubbornly.

"What about Luka?" She asks before she could stop herself.

Chat looks at her suspiciously, "what about him?"

"Well uhhh... she uh... told me about this boy Luka- i think that's his name. She said he asked her on a date for friday and she agreed." Ladybug hopes that sounded convincing.

"Maybe i will sweep her off her feet and she'll forget all about that guy." Chat grumbles.

Ladybug giggles, "oh, Chat, i love you, but you have the worst timing."

"I have the worst timing? I tell you I've moved on and THEN you tell me you love me? It's like I'm cursed!"

"You're not cursed. Maybe you should find someone in your normal day-to-day life."

"She is from that part of my life, but i can't talk to her- what are you doing?"

Ladybug had clapped her hands over her ears and started humming, "i can't know anything about your identity, Chat!"

"I didn't say anything... unless you know Marinette out of the mask too! Do we know eachother?!"

Ladybug jumped up out of the chair, "let's just stop there! We can't know anything!" She meant what she said but she couldn't stop herself from wondering.

"Maybe we can talk to Master Fu, it would just be easier if we knew everything about eachother."

"Yeah! Easier for Hawkmoth! All it would take is one little slip. It's not just about us, its about our loved ones too. You have to think about someone other than yourself, Chat!" She says out of frustration.

Chat looks hurt, "you think i don't?"

"I didn't mean-"

"I know what you meant, Ladybug. But maybe if you knew who i really was you'd understand that this mask helps me be the real me. The people i care about are the same in both lives, so is it really safer to not know eachothers identities or are you just afraid to let someone know the real you?" Ladybug is stunned into silence and Chat scoffs, "go ahead and run away. I'll wait here for Marinette."

Ladybug isn't sure what to say and stands there awkwardly for a few moments before taking off around the corner and de-transforms. "This is going to get really awkward, Tikki."

"Speak from the heart, Marinette, he'll understand." Marinette takes a deep breath and walks down the street to the door beside the bakery that lead straight to the rooms upstairs.

Chat spots Marinette walking down the street alone and watches her step towards the side door just below. He takes a deep breath and tries to figure out how to say what he needs to say. He hears Marinette shut her bedroom door and he waits. Should he knock? Should he wait to see if she comes out to the terrace? He quickly grabs the bouquet of flowers he had left in the shadows when Ladybug surprised him. He was about to knock on the trap door when it busts open and hits him in the face. He groans and covers his bleeding nose. He can't even see Marinette with his eyes streaming but he could hear her.

"Oh my god! Chat Noir! I'm so sorry! I didn't know you were there! Oh my god! Your bleeding! Don't move! I'll be right back!" Chat sits there trying to clear his vision and stop the bleeding. Marinette returns less than a minute later with a first aid kit and tends to his sore nose. "I don't think it's broken at least. I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine, princess, I'm fine." Chat held the tissues Marinette gave him to his nose.

"What are you doing lurking around by my door?"

"Great! Starting off on a bad foot." Chat thought to himself. "I wasn't lurking! I was about to knock like a gentleman when you threw it open like the room was on fire. Is your room on fire?" He asks mockingly.

"No!" She says shortly. "I just... it doesn't matter, are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He cuckles and hands her the bouquet, "these are for you."

"Oh. Thank you. What are they for?" She asks surpised.

Chat laughs, "well not for breaking my nose, that's for sure."

She slaps his arm playfully, "oh its not broken! Don't be a baby."

Chat stands and offers her his hand and pulls her up. They walk to the chairs and sit. "There's something I want to talk to you about." Marinette's face gets very serious. "I came to tell you that..." Chat pauses looking for the right words, "I... I... really like you, Marinette. I think you're really awesome and beautiful and..." Marinette blushes.

"That's really sweet of you Chat but we don't really know eachother."

"But we do-"

"You can't tell me your identity!" Marinette interrupts him. She sighs and keeps her eyes closed, Chat takes the opportunity to study her face without judgment, "i wish things were different, but they aren't. If i were akumatized i would get you hurt, or worse and i never want to hurt you, Chat."

Moved, Chat caresses her cheek and she opens her eyes, "i understand, princess, but i felt like if i didn't tell you i would burst. When Ladybug and i defeat Hawkmoth maybe things will be different for us."

She delicately lays a hand over his, "i hope we'll be able to get to know eachother, but until then i hope you find someone that makes you happy, even if you can't tell them you're a superhero."

Chat fights an overwhelming urge to de-transform and show her who he really was, but decides he has to confess his love for her as Adrian. "Maybe i will."

"How did you think that was going to end?" Plagg asks bluntly.

Adrian bellyflops onto his bed "I don't know." He sighs, "but now that I've said it as Chat Noir i know what to say. Tomorrow's the day. Ive got to tell her before it's too late."

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writing-makes-me-antsy · 6 years

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Totally Platonic Family Dinner (Finch/Reader) Part 2

042552/totally-platonic-family-dinner-finchreader-part

On Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16626086

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The family dinner went absolutely wonderful. Within moments Finch had warmed up to your family, and they absolutely adored him. Of course they would, who wouldn’t love Finch? Knowing his allergies, you had made sure there was plenty he could eat-even for dessert! There was more than enough room for you to have personal space, but instead, you and Finch had sat rather close together, your knees bumping against each other every few moments.

At one point during dinner, near the end, you had found yourself lost in a hazy fog. You felt the gentle tug of sleep, and with it a creeping feeling of sentimentality. The past year had been so rough, and the previous November had been so bad that you couldn’t even remember Thanksgiving. The fact that you were able to be here, now, surrounded by people you loved so much… It was wonderful. Each little moment of this was so, so wonderful. You turned to look at finch and drank in his features. You loved his distinctive sharp jaw, his cheekbones that were always prominent from smiling when around you, and, god help you, his lips. You didn’t let yourself think on that train of thought for too long, but allowed yourself to openly stare at him, entirely grateful to have this man as your friend.

“What’s up?” Finch looked at you, quirking an eyebrow.

“I’m just so happy I know you.” Your words were soft and genuine.

“Um-er… I’m not that great.” He began fidgeting with his napkin, the closest thing at hand.

“Mmmm,” you hummed, “Yeah you are.”

“If you say so.”

“I do.” You stuck your tongue out at him, and he replied in kind.

You turned back to your mashed potatoes and began shoveling them in your mouth, like the elegant princess you are. When you glanced up again, potatoes slightly smeared around your mouth, your cheeks filled to the brim, you were met with a lovely sight. You heart skipped a beat when you found Finch staring at you with the weirdest expression. He had a soft smile that was nearly a smirk, the happiness meeting his eyes. As soon as he saw that you had noticed him, he glanced away again.

“What’s the story behind that?” He asked you, pointing at a nearby painting. It was of a squirrel riding a unicycle, the art surprisingly realistic.

You shrugged. “I saw it at goodwill and I liked it, so we hung it up.”

“Wow, you really do have such great taste in interior design.”

“Hush it.” You lightly nudged him, and he nudged you back.

“Make me.” He said, and damn, you wished it worked like the movies where now is would be the time where you two would passionately make out. But this wasn’t a movie, and your family was literally three feet away, so it wouldn’t be the classiest choice. So, instead, you concocted a plan.

“I’ll go get dessert,” you announced to the group. Pushing out your chair, you made your way over to the kitchen. On the counter were the brownies you made that catered to Finch’s weird food choices, as well as a normal pumpkin pie for everyone else. First, you carried the pie out for everyone and laid it down on the table, refusing to look at Finch the whole time. Then, you delivered the brownies. While setting them on the table, you maintained eye contact with Finch, who seemed to be nearly watering at the mouth. This boy really liked his chocolate. Before he could take one, you pushed them away, but kept one hand hovered over it.

“So what was that about my interior design skills?” You smirked.

“You know bribes don’t work on me, right?” He leaned back in his chair, resisting your interrogation. But you knew you would have him soon enough. He wasn’t even looking at you half the time, he kept glancing back over to the delicious gooey squares you had made for him.

“Oh, I know.” You said, lightly picking up a brownie, looking as if you were going to eat it.

“I won’t change my mind, your-mmmf!” Halfway though his sentence, you shoved the brownie into his mouth, grinning mischievously at your victory.

“Now you’ve been hushed.” You were still smiling as he reluctantly ate the rest of the brownie that was crumbling apart in your hand. You hoped you weren’t blushing from the sensation of his lips against your skin. Now wasn’t the appropriate time for that. It would never be. Still, it wouldn’t hurt if… “Do you like it?” You asked hopefully.

“Yeah of course, they’re great.” He reached over and snagged a few more.

“I’m glad, I actually made those for you.” You admitted.

“You did?” He looked at you in shock. Really, you would think you’d shown him nothing but hatred with how often he looked at you like that. Why was he always surprised by this? He really needed more self esteem.

“Of course. I told you I wanted today to be perfect, remember?”

“Thank you. Maybe that squirrel doesn’t look half bad after all.”

“Oh hush.”

“Gladly,” He wiggled his eyebrows, “if it means I can have more brownies.”

“You say that as you already have three in your hands.”

“Yeah but,” He whined, “It’s not the same without you.”

You ignored the rush of adrenaline you felt at his words. “But if I’m feeding you, then I won’t be able to eat any.” You crossed your arms.

He leaned in slightly. “Then I guess I’ll have to return the favor.”

“Not happen-” Damn him, he just stole your move. His hand was so soft and gentle, his thumb and index finger slightly pressing into your cheeks to force the square in. You did what you had to do and took it from him, your heart pounding in your chest. Chewing, you had to admit you hadn’t done half bad this time. That made sense, considering you had been making test batches for weeks. Thankfully, Race and Albert hadn’t seemed to mind being guinea pigs.

“I hate you.” You pouted. He just stared at you intently, scrunching his entire face up. “What are you looking for?”

“I’m looking for the truth.” He said simply before continuing his search.

“The truth?” You said, and couldn’t help but break out into a small smile, you could never keep a straight face around him.

“There it is!” He pointed at your smile. “You’ve never been very good at lying.”

You sighed, rubbing your temples. This boy. “I will never understand you.”

“The feeling is mutual.” He grinned.

In any case, you were glad he seemed to be enjoying himself thus far. You could check dinner off your checklist! Now it was time for the fun part.

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

“Goodbye! Have fun!” You called out, waving to the rest of your family, who were all heading out for a round of drinks. Being just slightly underage for drinking, you and Finch had to be left home. That was perfectly fine with you. Spending time alone with Finch was nothing new for you, the two of you were constantly joint at the hip wherever you went. It was to the point that once, much to your embarrassment, Albert had once asked whether you were siblings. That had been a rather awkward moment. You had immediately shouted your denial, so loud it must have been suspicious as hell. Wisely, neither of you had ever brought it up again.

Turning to look at Finch, a devilish grin spread across your face. “Now for the best part of the evening!”

“Oh? Is there something better than food?”

“Mmm you’ll see!” You lightly gripped his hand for just a second to signal for him to follow you.

Running to your kitchen, you slid across the floor in your socks, landing at a sudden stop by the counter. You rummaged through the cabinet, looking for your prize. “Who says only adults can have fun?” You turned around with a smirk, lifting the bottle in your hand for Finch to see.

“I thought you didn’t drink.” He said, raising an eyebrow at you.

You laughed and moved you hand off the label. “It’s non alcoholic apple cider. I’m not trying to get you wasted-yet.” You winked at him.

He placed his hand on his chest, “I’m scandalized. I can’t believe you would ever imply that a holy child such as yours truly would even think of drinking.”

You lightly flicked him before turning to look for mugs. “I haven’t forgotten that time you called me crying with Elmer and Race. There’s no way the three of you weren’t drunk.”

His face flushed with embarrassment. ‘We don’t speak of that night.”

“That doesn’t erase it from my memory” You teased him, finally finding two cups you liked. You couldn’t help but grin when you set your chosen pair on the table, which read “Fuck it”, and “I’m it”. Very mature.

When Finch read them, he let out a bark of laughter. “How did I not know you owned these?”

“Because I was saving them for a special occasion?” You fiddled with the bottle, taking an embarrassing amount of time to open it. Finally, you managed it and poured the contents out. The scent pleasantly wafted up to you, crisp and sweet. You took both the mugs and tossed them in the microwave for minute to warm them up.

“Ah yes, sweet radiation.” Finch was now sitting on one of your counters, a habit you had picked up from him as well.

“As if it’s enough to turn you away from anything edible.”

“Touche. So, what’s the plan?”

“Call it cliche, but we’re gonna watch the greatest movie of all time.”

“And that would be?”

“Mean Girls, of course!” Finch rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless. A few months back you had convinced him and the rest of the newsies and Katherine to watch it, and had only slightly regretted it once they had begun to quote it constantly.

“Hey-the timer just went off. I guess you should go fetch our drinks.” He was already laughing at his joke, and despite how bad the pun was, you joined in with him.

You handed his drink over to him and clutched your own in your hands, savoring the warmth. Both of you had perpetually freezing hands, so every little bit of heat was relished. Together, the two of you made your way into your bedroom, which was simple but cozy. Your bed was just big enough to fit the both of you, and on a dresser facing it was your TV, which had access to Netflix. You handed your cup over to Finch to hold as you set everything up, drawing closed the blinds and dimming the lights.

Finally, you crawled up next to him and got settled in. You were sitting next to each other, but awkwardly kept from touching. You still didn’t know what his boundaries were with physical interaction and didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. Whatever his reason for shying away from you as well, you didn’t know. Still, the two of you pulled up blankets together and gingerly sipped from your mugs. Well, at least you did. He gulped half of his down in a few quick seconds, only to screw up his face at the potent taste. You couldn’t help but giggle at his display.

When the movie started, the two of you easily slipped into your usual banter, only half paying attention.

“Okay hear me out, right.” Finch started with the cursed words.

“What’ll it be this time?” You braced yourself for whatever strange proclamation was coming.

“So you know how it’s really cold right?”

“Yeah?” You couldn’t see where this was going.

“And we’re watching Netflix?” His fingers were drumming against his cup. (He had the “I’m it” mug, of course).

“And?”

“Does this mean this is, Netflix and Chill?” He asked, a dorky grin splitting his face.

You cackled with laughter. “You are the worst.” You kept yourself from adding on, “And I love you.”

“I live to please.” He lightly bumped his shoulder against yours.

You continued back and forth for ages, just joke upon joke, sometimes at the expense of the characters. Some highlights included bickering over whether Janice’s hair was cute or not, about which newsies mirrored which characters, (Crutchie was a complete Cady, a wholesome bean), and whether it was indeed a better approach to conflict to just tackle someone. At one point, after a particularly funny joke, you found yourself leaning your head on his shoulder. As soon as you realized what you were doing, you sat up again, quickly apologizing.

“You’re good.” He said, looking at you confused.

“I shouldn’t have done it without asking.” You explained. He just laughed at you before wrapping an arm around your waist.

“Is this good?” He asked, and though it was dim, you could’ve sworn his face turned a little redder. It was probably your imagination though.

“Yeah, of course.” You said, and let him pull you closer into him. Your attention completely slipped away from the movie, and all you could think of was how comfy this moment was. He was layered in like eight hoodies, the cold boy he was, so he was such a soft squishy mess, warm up against you. A graceful smile was stretched across your face, a similar peaceful one on his. The two of you quieted slightly and turned your attention towards the movie-at least he seemed to. You barely paid attention to what was going on, instead drinking in this moment. Every once in a while you would glance over to him, admiring all the little details that marked his face as his own.

You could happily stay like this forever. That wasn’t really how it worked out though, because even in this moment, Finch couldn’t stay still for long. He kept shuffling his legs, in turn moving you around with him too. You didn’t mind too much though. You loved everything that made him, him, including how fidgety he always was. Yes, this moment really was wonderful.

#Finch/reader #Finch headcanons #Newsies #Newsies Finch #newsies fanfiction #Newsies/reader #My writing #Musicals #Disney's newsies #Finch x reader #Reader insert #Newsies headcanons

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godhanjisung · 6 years

Text

49 Days - Han Jisung

Summary: What if when you died, it wasn’t the end?

Genre: Fluff/Tragic

Rating: 13+ [SFW]

Words: 4880

It had been like any other day. Your walk to school had begun with the passing of green meadows and old ladies brooming dust off sidewalks. Like any other day people had been hustlin’ and bustlin’ in the local fish market which always opened at seven in the morning, never a moment earlier nor later. Like any other morning you had begun your day with an early rise and had expected an early finish. But you had soon quickly realised that today wasn’t like any other day.

You had expected to go home from school, only stopping to feed the stray cats by the large stone steps. Watching as the newly blossomed spring flowers showered the floor in their petals, creating a rainbow of dancing colours as the wind blew them up into the air. You had expected to be scratched maybe once or twice, a small physical scar of the day’s journey – just a small physical scar. And you had gotten one, just one scar that day, but it had not been physical nor had it been small.

The body had just been laying there already covered in petals and you had just watched as more small cherry blossoms began fluttering down, beginning to cover more of his face and torso. At first you hadn’t noticed, you thought maybe he had been sleeping or day dreaming. He was known for it after all, always doing it in class, the classic joker that took some things a little bit too far.

But it wasn’t until you heard the cold beat of a silent heart, felt a slight tingle in your spine and seen the silhouette above the body that you realised. You stopped walking as the mist became clearer and you could see his face, all colour gone but features apparent and defined. A sharp nose and jawline, round doe eyes and hair styled slightly more to the right than appropriate. His eyes turned to look at you, his gaze speaking volumes and you held yourself back from saying ‘yes, I already know.’

“I have forty-nine days.” He voices, the words riding with the wind towards you.

You watch as he moves, lifting himself of the ground by a few inches – floating. The pole behind him visible through his torso.

You nod your head, “Yeah, forty-nine days.”

The funeral was held a few days later. All of his friends from school had come to attend, all wearing black and offering their deepest condolences. Funerals were usually the one moment in which family and friends would take the time to say goodbye to their loved ones. But for this town it was only the first goodbye, not the last one.

A sigh removes you from your thoughts, “He’s really gone, isn’t he?”

“He is,” someone voiced in return.

Another voice interrupts, “He was an awfully cool person thought wasn’t he? It’s such a waste to see him go! I mean he was tall and handsome and…” the voice is cut off by a loud cough and you smile a little despite the circumstances.

You turn around, the smile still on your face, and look over at the young boy floating in the air. The young boy whose funeral you were attending right now.

“Jisung could you please not make stupid remarks at your own funeral?” his sister sighs, her hand against her forehead.

Jisung hums in response, a smile on his face, “Maybe, if you can convince me too.”

A bunch of students who had been attempting to hold in their laughter, began chuckling and soon the entire room was roaring in laughter. You didn’t even miss the light smile on his sister’s face and the spark in her eyes at the commotion.

“Leave Jisung, some of us have to mourn.” She replied back sternly.

Jisung only lets out some laughter before turning away and floating towards his casket. In front somebody is already praying, giving him their best wishes, whilst completely and successfully ignoring his antics.

“Aunt May, you don’t have to give me your best wishes yet. I’m still here, got another good forty-four days in me.”

The lady only brings a finger to her lips and shushes him, before continuing her prayers in silence. You can hear her mumbling words underneath her breath but you can’t make them out properly. Her eyebrows are crossed in concentration and her lips are moving fast. She suddenly takes in a large breath and stops. She then lifts her hand up and you watch as Jisung floats closer to her instinctively.

She opens her mouth and her next words hang heavy in your heart, “May you have a good forty-four days left son, but from this day forward you’re dead to me.”

Jisung’s eyes relax suddenly. No longer is there a smile on his face only a slight turn of the lips, as though he knows what she is implying. You watch as she nods, her eyes still closed before turning away and finally opening them. She takes a look around the room and bows before leaving.

You turn to look a Jisung curious to see the full impact of her words and to your surprise he is already looking at you. When your eyes meet you don’t know how to react. His eyes swirl with an emotion you cannot pinpoint and his gaze makes your mouth run dry. You quickly avert your gaze, rising to your feet and leave – quickly.

You hadn’t seen Jisung since that day, not face to face anyway but you had seen him, from the corner of your eye. Observing him as he interacted with those he knew well, as though he wasn’t gone at all. Jisung had always been social and kind, which had naturally drawn people towards him and led to him becoming a very well-known and well liked student. Maybe that was the reason he had decided to spend a majority of his days at school, with his friends rather than family.

With his presence implemented firmly there, it almost didn’t seem like he was gone, not when you could still hear his laughter in the halls. Probably laughing at a new memory he had just made, despite being dead. A new memory that he wouldn’t have gained had he been anywhere else. Anywhere else, death was death – it was the end. You died and then you were gone, but that didn’t seem to be the case here, not in this town.

The town you now lived in had always been like this – for as long as you could remember. You weren’t born here but apparently being born in the town didn’t seem to be a requirement. You weren’t sure what it was that allowed people to see and become, but you realised, whatever it was, you must have had it. After all, this was a strange place. A place where those who had died had the ability to live on the earth longer - for another forty-nine days.

When you had first arrived in town you hadn’t noticed them immediately. You had seen quaint people here and there, some whose actions were a little questionable but never anything that stood out. Still, even now it was the same. If you ever noticed anything it was only because you had grown used to seeing the deceased. The unique way their voices travelled in the wind or the manner in which they walked. Although they could, not many of them floated. To them it was just more time on earth before they left – so they usually chose to experience it normally.

Not to your surprise, Jisung was seeming to become an outlier to the norm. He floated around everywhere and always disturbed the day to day lives of the living.

A shiver run down your spine that removes you from your thoughts, as a cold wind brushes past your shoulder. You ignore the quiver, adamant on completely your quiz. But continued hushed whispers pull you out of your trance and you succumb to Jisung’s presence next to you.

He is hovering, a meter of the ground right by your desk, but he isn’t looking at you. Rather his friend next to you and although you know he sees your angry gaze, he ignores it - successfully.

“That’s not the answer!” he exclaims, throwing his hands into the air, “That’s the wrong equation!”

“Shut up Jisung!” his friend murmurs back in response, “This is a quiz, we aren’t supposed to be talking!”

Jisung huffs, “I’m just helping you out mate and they can’t exactly put me on detention.”

Jisung moves closer to his friends desk and you watch as he rests his hand on the table or tries too. His hand falls through the table coming out the other side. A smile forms on his face and you realise he had proved his point, “I’ll just walk out through the locked door.”

His friend groans and Jisung lets out a hefty laugh which catches the attention of your homeroom teacher. His attention had finally been taken away from whatever fascinating thing he had been observing on his laptop.

Mr Hanson gets up from his swivel chair, waving one of his arms in the air menacingly, “Jisung! Get out of here, stop helping your friends cheat!”

As soon as you make eye contact with Mr Hanson, you place all your attention back on your quiz. Ignoring the commotion Jisung had once again created in class. This was not the first time and you had every reason to believe that this wouldn’t be the last time that Jisung caused a commotion. And you weren’t wrong.

Two days later and the school was in an uproar – broken eggs littered the floor and many students walked the halls drenched from head to toe. What surprised you the most was that neither they nor the teachers seemed to mind. Rather their laughter, along with Jisungs, filled the hall as everyone continued to disrupt the normal school schedule, all because Jisung had felt the need to pull a prank. It had been a simple and easy prank that had been the catalyst to the chaos that the school was now in but apparently only you seemed to think so.

You observed as more students threw water balloons at each other in the classroom, one of them hitting Mr Hanson, who only responded by releasing some laughter of his own.

So when you walked out of the classroom after the last class of the day and you saw Jisung by the door but you weren’t fazed, not until he called your name. You turned around surprised but not as astonished as when you heard his next words.

“I really like you, would you go out with me?” an innocent smile on his face.

You weren’t sure what the normal reaction was to being asked out by someone who wasn’t alive but you were pretty sure your reaction would be considered the norm. The norm which would entail - walking away, avoiding him like the plague and pretending it never happened. And it had worked well and it would have continued to work well had the man himself not decided to invade your personal space.

So there you were at home, the one place you thought was safe until had you entered your room and seen him on your bed – just there.

He smiled a mischievous glint in his eyes, “Hey.”

You stood still not moving, a hesitant and quiet, “Hi” leaving your lips.

“So,” he begins floating away from your bed towards your dresser, “I never really got a reply, not that I don’t want you to take your time and stuff…”

He pauses again lowering himself to inspect the photo frames of you and your family, “but I haven’t really got time myself.”

You watch as he straightens himself up again his signature smile on his face, one that even despite its current transparency still held a certain charm that made your cheeks warm. You quickly turn away from his gaze moving to your dresser and placing your photos frames face down obscuring them from sight.

“Jisung,” you begin still not facing him, “You’re taking this joke a little too far.”

Jisung raises an eyebrow, “What joke?”

“Really funny.”

Jisung hums, “But I’m not joking?”

That was all it took for the last few strands of sanity in you to snap, “You’re dead Jisung, dead. Forty-nine days or no forty-nine days, you’re dead. At least gain some maturity and realise the situation that you’re in. You do realise that-“you were about to continue until a loud squeak tore your gaze away from him, as your aunt entered your room.

“Oh?” she questions, “I thought you had someone over so I brought some food.”

The colourful plate of food in your aunts hands drew your attention for a second and you just smiled at her, “I was just practicing I have a speech tomorrow.”

Your Aunt begins chattering away her comments about food and speeches washing over you in waves. You take a bite out of one of the strawberries she gave you it was sweet, ironically. But not once did you turn around, there was no need, you knew he was gone.

Despite the occasional looks from classmates and schoolmates, you hadn’t heard much from or about Jisung since. You weren’t able to tell if this thought made you happy or sad but you were sure it was better than anything had he been around. As the silent days had continued to pass you had pondered on the thought that maybe he hadn’t been joking around. But you couldn’t comprehend that thought, it just didn’t make sense. After all Jisung was known to be a prankster and well he was dead – a spirit, a ghost. A mere apparition of what he was and could have been.

Your heart panged at the thought, of what he could have been, what he could have done, all things that would never happen and never could happen. A loud thud vibrated through the hallways as you clutched your shoulder in pain.

“I’m sorry are you all right?” a voice asked you.

You looked up realisation hitting you, “Yes, yes I’m fine. Sorry that was my fault I wasn’t paying attention.”

“No it was mine as well, I wasn’t either.”

The woman bends down to pick up the items that had fallen out of the box she had been holding. You bent down to help as well glancing at her quickly before continuing. Yes, she was Jisung’s sister. You both worked quietly as you picked up the items slowly and placing them back into the large rectangular box. You watched as sometimes his sister would pick up an item and stare at it fondly as though all the memories were coming back to her, playing in her mind like a movie reel.

“Did you know him?” she asks staring at small stuffed toy in her hands.

You shake your head, “Not very well. We were in the same class but not really friends.”

She hums in response turning to look at you, “Rowdy wasn’t he? A bit of a pain in the ass?”

You stare at her blankly unsure of how to response, you can’t really say yes to a question like that to the deceased relatives can you?

She continues to stare at you, her eyes completely serious before she bursts out laughing, “No need to take me so seriously darling.” She chuckles, “I’m his sister I know he was.”

You smile a little in response before placing the last of the items back in the box and lifting yourself up right. You were about to walk away when you noticed a piece of paper on the ground you bend to pick it up and suddenly a rush of sadness washes over you.

“Ah – Miss Han?” you call out, your voice unsure.

She turns around to look at you, her eyebrows furrowed.

You jog to her, hand outstretched, “You dropped this as well.”

“Oh thank you,” she takes the paper from you and realisation hits her as well.

You had already begun to walk away your head hung low before you heard her voice “A singer huh?”

You don’t turn or respond unsure if she was talking to you or not.

“Did you know…” her voice carries through the hallway and you stop walking, your heart heavy, “He had always wanted to be a singer, he would sing to the old ladies on the street. Mind you he sounded horrible, the kid didn’t know a thing about singing but he’d still do it every day. He said he did it to give happiness to people, make them smile.”

You don’t have to turn around to see that she was crying, you can hear it in her tone, “When he came back home after he died he had sung there too. I couldn’t stand it though. I don’t know what it was but whenever I heard his voice I felt such anger. Told him not to come there at all during his forty-nine days and he hasn’t. Been at school hasn’t he?”

You don’t respond only nodding you head, your back still to her, she sniffles and you continue to remain quiet. “This must’ve been it you know, why I felt angry. His singing reminded me that it was all really over for him. He isn’t going to sing anymore and make people smile. It’s over, he’s dead.”

The walk home that day had felt longer than usual. Most days you would love it, the breeze and views calming you and making you smile. But now every noticeable spot reminded that you were closer, closer to the place he died and then you were there. At the cherry blossom trees near the large stone steps.

You stand still looking at them, these same steps that you had walked up and down most of your life – that had been a great part of your life, had taken away someone else’s just as quickly. One minute he must have been walking down these steps a smile on his face probably thinking about dinner or some stupid thing like that and the next minute – gone.

You begin walking up the steps, the greenery surrounding you growing thicker and thicker, making it almost seem like you had entered a different world. The town was usually quiet, an aspect that you had always enjoyed but walking up these stairs at this very moment was strange. It was quiet but a unique quiet, not one that made your skin crawl but rather made you question whether the silence you had known before had really been silence at all.

You reach the top of the stairs before you know it and sigh deeply. You had become so deeply engaged in the view and catching your breath that you didn’t notice the young girl about to go down the stairs behind you not until she smacks into you and you nearly fall all the way down the stairs.

“Lizzie you idiot I told you to stop running!”

You turn around your hands still gripping onto the railing for dear life. There are a group of three children behind you - two boys and a girl.

The boy who had just spoken turns to you, “Sorry, she never pays attention to where she goes.”

You release your grip on the railing and quickly regain your composure, “It’s alright, just tell her to be a little more careful in the future.”

You look at the little girl, tears are running down her face. A muffled thank you leaves her lips as the boy continues to reprimand her, “Can you imagine if it had happened again?”

“Again?” your voice tears through the conversation and you see the girl visibly stiffen.

You quickly remove yourself and all three children away from the stairs and kneel down to their level, “What do you mean again?”

The girl continue to sniffle and the second young boy comes to stand in front of her, his chest pushed forward, “It was an accident, that’s all it was.”

You smile and nod your head that was all you had needed to hear. It had all just been an accident.

You sit at the bottom of the steps waiting, your head in your hands as they rest upon your knees. You knew he would come here soon, you knew he would.

“What’re you doing?”

You turn to look up at him – Jisung is standing there, his transparency all the more prevalent as streams of sunlight fall through his torso onto the floor.

You shake your head, “Waiting.”

A smile creeps onto Jisung’s face, “For me? I’m honoured.”

You don’t move only observe as he moves to sit next to you – moves, he doesn’t float, “So?” he questions.

“You already know.”

Jisung continues to smile at you, “It was an accident.”

You shift, straightening your back, “It seems you aren’t as clumsy as people believed you were.”

“Oh no,” Jisung chuckles, “I am and I was then too.” He pats the step upon which you two were seated almost as though he could touch it.

“She told me, the little girl, that you had been pushed down the steps,” you pick up the small jar of flowers that she had given you tears streaming down her face, “for that little girl you even told a lie as stupid as ‘daydreaming and slipping down the stone steps.’”

Jisung doesn’t respond, “Hey why don’t you help me with something?”

You continue to look at Jisung, his eyes are shinning and the smile on his face has yet to falter. He floats away from you as he moves to the right of the steps into the foliage. Just before he disappears from sight you quickly pick yourself up to your feet and decide to follow him. As the trees grower thicker and your surroundings darker it become harder to see him. You almost call out to him to stop but soon he already has, right near a large tree, “It should have fallen around here.”

You automatically kneel rummaging through the grass, “What?”

“If you find it you’ll find out.” He chuckles.

You continue to look through the grass your hands becoming muddier and muddier, “and you’re sure it fell around here?”

Jisung hums twirling around in the air, “probably.”

Great, you thought, probably. A few moments pass and your uniform and hands are soon dyed the colour of the ground and mud but you hadn’t stopped searching. You had nearly stopped once in frustration but then you had recalled Jisungs sister. Maybe whatever Jisung had dropped here was important and it might just provide him and his family closure. It is during this thought that you see it, a small pink package. The rain from the previous nights had battered it and tore through some of the packaging but it remained mostly intact.

“I found it,” you exclaim, jumping to your feet “its battered thought.”

“Oh?!” Jisung exclaims, “Good, good. Open it and have a look then.”

You open the packaging carefully removing the small seal and pouring the content of the small pink package into your hand – it was a CD. Jisung observes you from over your shoulder, “That’s great it isn’t broken.”

He floats again to stand in front of you, “Now then lets continue the conversation from before. What happened had really been due to my own carelessness. I didn’t notice those kids at all. After I finished this, it was the only thing on my mind.”

He moves his gaze from the CD straight to your eyes, “Because it was the first time I was giving a birthday present to a girl.”

Your heart starts to beat at a rapid pace and your hands begin to sweat and become clammy.

“When I found out she was at the same high school as me, I decided to give this to her and let her know my feelings but I was already dead so I said it half-jokingly….as I thought it didn’t work.”

“Jisung…” you begin, “I-“

“Since seventh grade in middle school I’ve liked you. I’ve always liked you.” Jisung floats closer to the ground almost as though he was really there standing in front of you, “It’s a little late but Happy Birthday.”

You lower your head, you hadn’t been able to continue staring him in the eyes. Your vocal cords constrict when you reply, the words almost don’t come out “I’m sorry, I can’t accept it.”

“Of course,” Jisung responds, “I understand but you have to take care of it okay?”

Jisung tries to bend down to see your face but you move your head away. He stops trying, his face passive. You continue to stare at the ground your mind reeling with thoughts. This CD was much more than just an object. It represented so much more – it was the life that someone would never be able to experience, to have, to cherish. For all those before Jisung and all those after him, their regrets would never go away, no matter what.

Jisung doesn’t move from his spot in front of you, “Please don’t throw that CD away.”

He smiles, but you’re not looking at him, you don’t see the pain in his smile. You don’t see the way his hands are shaking, the way he has to bite his lips a few times to hold himself back.

“Since-“your voice is hoarse and you crinkle the packaging of the CD within your hands, “Since you’re not here anymore, don’t leave things behind that’ll just make people miss you more.”

Jisung raises his hands, and looks at the manner in which the sunlight stream through them, “You know,” Jisung he begins, moving his hand to your cheek, you feel a cold wind pass by your cheek when he does so, but you don’t feel his touch. “With or without extra time the reality for those who have died cannot be changed. But if I can do something that I had not been able to do when I was alive. Maybe just maybe I’d be able to die without any regrets.”

“So you know what,” Jisung moves his hand away, his eyes staring at the top of your head, “I’m still going to leave it.”

The moment you lift your head to reply, Jisung moves in and a cold wind is touching you face, it’s everywhere, your cheeks, your nose, your lips.

After that until the end of Jisungs forty-nine days there were no big changes. Jisung had spent his remaining days with his friends and family, his sister had finally let him home. He hadn’t sung once though, but you never got the chance to ask him why. Because on the morning of the forty-ninth day he disappeared in front of everyone.

And so the unchanging days passed by. You used to think that because everyone had the same amount of time to prepare for parting, that they would be content. You thought it would help, people let go of their attachments, help them move on. When you had moved to this town you had realised that wasn’t the case at all. Somehow it had made it worse, granted you had never experienced it but you had spent every day wondering that if you did, what you would say and do.

But then Jisung had passed and you had begun to think maybe it wasn’t so bad after all. Maybe it was a chance for people to let go of their regrets and move on, maybe they would somehow create more but at the end of the day it was a chance. Another chance at life that many never got.

Since Jisung’s passing people had begun to talk to you more, you had made friends you never realised you could make. A small part of you that you had held onto since your moving had been let free from the cage that you had created and now you felt so much lighter.

You had realised a long time ago that Jisung’s actions were all a result of his clumsy kindness and that you owed everything to that clumsy kindness. You weren’t afraid of losing anymore, no longer would you run away.

“What’s that?”

You look in your bag to see what your friend Mina had pointed out, it as a small pink package.

You remove it from your bag, “It’s a birthday present.”

Mina smiles, “Well what is it?”

You don’t move from your position, “A CD.”

“Well we should play it!”

You watch as Mina takes the CD from your hands and moves to the front of the class, already removing the packaging. You watch as she places the CD inside and hits play. A sob leaves your lips.

Mina is visibly shaken by your response as tears continue to run down your face, “What’s wrong?”

A wrenching sob of Jisung’s name leaves your lips, and soon only your sobs can be heard in the quiet classroom and then Mina’s. As Jisung’s voice grows louder on the speakers - soon the entire class was sobbing.

To live without regrets is almost the same as not living at all.

#stray kids scenarios #han jisung scenario #han jisung #han scenario #t:scenario #han fluff #han angst #this was supposed to be posted on his brithday but I suck

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lovemateria · 6 years

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► Prelude, Part I: “Thavnair”

“And those who were seen dancing were thought to be insane by those who could not hear the music.”

Dariustel slung his instrument over his shoulder and along his back as a warrior might his weapon. He squeezed his way through two Highlanders, muscular enough to be warriors, then ducked beneath a diminutive flying flautist. The promise of coin and glory had drawn even a Moogle to the audition. He dodged, pushed, and nudged a dozen others on his way toward the friendly smile and exotic features of the leporine woman that had drawn his attention.

He walked confidently -- to her and for her, with a grin by his lips when the entire room froze. Every note and voice hushed.

The carved wooden doors at the fore of gathered crowd had sprung open and out had come the Far Eastern woman of soft features and inimitable femininity. She was prim and proper, moving about the room to once more decide fates of fortune seekers. Despite the soft, non-threatening nature of her features she relished the opportunity to have others bow to her; perhaps envied that of the Hannish Prince she served.

Her extended hand slid across the room, lingering only briefly on the Viera before moving on to a Hellsguard: red as the setting sun and armed with a comically small lute. "You," she sighed, gesturing toward the Roegadyn. It was then she proceeded with declaration spoken unto all: "The prince grows tired. There will be two more auditions tonight, and one final round tomorrow until mid-sun. Be prompt. Be ready. Be presentable." She turned, dwarfed and obscured by the massive Hellsguard following after her. "What's he like?" the Hellsguard asked, his voice fading as the wooden doors shut behind them.

The room remained quiet much longer than time previous. Dariustel wondered if the scene would turn grisly; there were dozens of musicians yet to audition and it took them all differing amounts of time to realize the futility of the venture. Shaking the thought with the sweep of fingers through reddened tips of shaggy fauhaux, the wildwood continued from halt in approach of the Viera; less flirty and much more amused than previous. He sunk his shoulder against the wall and crossed his arms to observe her, and her instrument, from nearer location.

The Viera, having watched the scene unfold, remained oblivious; gaze transfixed on the door recently closed. When he spoke, however, the two long ears perched atop her peach-coloured crown twitched their sensitive response, swiveling in the direction of uttered query to attune in the midst of rumbling crowd.

"Which heaven are you from and how do I get there?"

One elongated ear, pierced with three small studs, oscillated briefly and with it a musical chuckle sung on the plump lips of the dark-skinned creature. The corners of her maw had tapered, tugging upward from her smile long before she had turned around to meet the stranger with equally amused expression.

"Has that line worked on anyone tu date?" she replied with a query of her own, single brow arching comically as she shift her weight upon custom-crafted heel and tilted her hip for the hand that came to rest upon it.

"Line? That's no line, sugar. I'm genuinely curious," he leaned forward with the last of his words long enough to get a new angle on his survey of her form. His gaze lingered on studded ears; an incorrigible, unapologetic flirt if ever there was, regardless of whomever it was that held his attention. "See, I've been to nearly every corner of this world and I've never, never seen a thing as pretty as you."

"Mmmmn, mmmn. Mmmn. Just look at you," he forced his head out for a better angle, trailing those long legs with such a heavy gaze, the woman had all but felt metaphoric brush on the satin sheen of her skin. Quietly, she huffed and a faint crimson hue darkening her mocha cheeks. "Legs a Lalafell would kill for. Hips out of a fevered dream. An angel's smile. Succulent..." Continued the Wildwood, his eyes lingering by her thighs before bouncing upward on the curvature of feminine form with feigned innocence, even as she lifted a finger in waggle for wandering eyes. " ...spirited and talented."

He whistled and shook his head. "I'd say I have as much chance of hooking you with a line as we do of nabbing this opening."

The creature’s plump lips parted for additional utterance of laughter, punctuated by the harmonious strum of clawed-like digits over harp’s strings. Adventure aglow in the woman's pinkish gaze, the Viera twirled theatrically upon toes in performance of her own; skirts and draped fabric a dance of translucent material caught by the warm Thavnarian wind.

"It would seem your tongue is forged in silver, and almost as sharp as the point of your ears," the exotic creature mused in wryly spoken tone, the tip of button nose twitching briefly. "Does it come with a name, I wonder?"

Dariustel’s head rolled languidly upon lean, well-muscled shoulders, attention cast to the waiting room full of hopefuls at behest of dark-lined eyes. It was that opportunity that coaxed forward lean from Viera in inspection of her own; eyeing the familiarity of his Thavnarian wardrobe and the posture of which he stood. It was his eyes, however, emboldened with shades of green that caught her attention first and foremost.

"Yu are here for the audition, no?” Fejn surmised, pulling herself from his personal space with the draw of long nail along her chin and following through with a roll-like gesture of her wrist in shrug. “I should hope so, at least. The thought is far more pleasant than the idea that yu have come simply tu seek out appropriate body parts for some strange experiment."

“You wound me,” he laughed. “Of course, I am here for the audition.” The elezen pushed himself off the wall and displayed his back in reach of lean fingers toward lute at his rear; opposite hand tapping rhythmically at his side all the while. He turned briefly with introduction, a grin displayed on angular features. “I am Dariustel.”

From the stairway above, the Othardian's approach was marked once more by the whine of opening double door and quieting crowd. Two spots. Her hand stretched outward; comparative to the hand of a god the way it robbed the hopefuls of their breath and wandered seemingly at random across the room.

“Hmmm,” the Far Eastern woman tapped her chin; prolonging the agony, relishing in her power. “You,” she finally declared pointing to a Lalafell with a strange horn that looped in and over itself thrice. The Lalafell skittered along dutifully behind the woman, disappearing behind the large carved wooden gates as others had before.

Dariustel grit his teeth and turned back to the Viera. He winced, exaggerating his dejection and frustration with slumped shoulders. The words set upon his tongue, however, were spoken open and honest. “I really need this,” he sighed, leaning back against the wall with the jut of tufted chin. Amusement was quick to flourish on features anew. “You?”

#Spilled Ink #Love Materia: Writing #Even Rocky Had A Montage #Writing: Dariustel #Writing: Fejn #Edited by Fejn #long post #Chronicles: Prelude #FFXIV RP #FFXIV

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shingeki-no-scenarios · 6 years

Text

Title: Her Love

Characters: Random issa surprise

Genre: Angst, Drama

Warnings: Manga spoilers, mentions of sexual content

Summary: A drabble collection showcasing a mother’s love.

A/N: Happy Mothers’ Day to all you mothers/mother figures/mom friends out there!!💜💜💜

one The little girl let out soft whimpers and occasional hisses as her mother stood above her, patiently smoothing out the knots and kinks in her long, jet-black hair with a fine-toothed comb. The younger of the pair merely sighed, knowing that she only had herself to blame; had she listened to her mother and kept her hair braided, it would not have gotten tangled while she jumped and rolled about with her playmates the entire afternoon.

“We’ll really have to cut your short if you can’t keep it neat, Mika.” the elder tutted, resorting to using her fingers to detangle a particularly large knot. Upon successfully undoing the knot, the woman smiled softly and ran her fingers through her daughter’s hair, making sure that she didn’t miss anything, as well as check for any head lice she might have gotten from her playmates.

“I don’t want to!” the girl neither meant to raise her voice at her mother, nor did she mean to disrespect her by crossing her arms and frowning deeply. Almost immediately, she regretted acting as such upon sensing how the elder woman froze and remained silent, as if she were calculating how long she should make the younger stand in the corner. “I... I mean... I don’t want to have short hair.” her tone was now softer and regretful, hoping that it would do something to change her mother’s mind.

To her surprise, the woman chuckled heartily and took the young girl into her embrace, muttering promises of how she was just joking as she pressed kisses onto the crown of the younger’s head, obviously not able to resist how adorable her daughter looked.

two Thud.

"One, two... three.” the woman muttered under her breath; counting to three had become her ritual after her customers had left– it was just something that gave her assurance that the nightmare was over, and that she was free to act like nothing ever happened.

Sniffing and sitting up, she fought the ache in her thighs and hastily gathered her clothes (or at least, what remained of it). The sickening thought of what had just happened was starting to weigh in on her, and she knew that she had to leave this place as soon as possible. That way, she could hop into the bath and scrub the filth– their filth– off her skin.

Time and again, she told herself that she was going to quit tomorrow and leave it all behind, but that tomorrow soon turned into next week, as next week turned into next month, that eventually turned to next year. Holding back her tears, she blankly stared at the crumpled bills strewn across the bed; prior to it being scattered on the bed, the money had been haphazardly thrown at her face as the man snickered at how pathetic she looked. She couldn’t blame him, though, as it was true– she was willing to be reduced to a pathetic, lowly being just to have a source of income.

‘It’s much better than having him starve.’ she thought as she gathered the cash, trying her best to count and recount it even if her hands shook violently while she made attempts to comfort herself. Upon seeing that she had actually been given extra, her shaking stopped and she let out a deep sigh of relief and joy, knowing that she’ll be able to surprise her beloved son with a special meal at the end of the week. It was the least she could do after practically leaving him alone for the past week, after all. “I have to provide.” she chanted, feeling her vivacious self break through the bruised, lifeless woman she was just a couple seconds ago.

Composing herself and making sure she looked presentable, she dashed out of the hellhole she called a workplace as quickly as she could, knowing that Levi was probably waiting for her to read him a bed time story.

three Though sleep was starting to tug at her eyelids, the woman did her best to stay awake and responsive; there was no way in hell that she could sleep comfortably knowing that a dear comrade of hers would spend the night crying her eyes out.

“I quit.” the redhead sobbed, desperately burying her face into the brunette’s lap as she clutched onto her thighs as if her life depended on it. “I quit, Hanji. I can’t take it.” she stuttered out, attempting to speak in between suffocating sobs.

“No, no... No, Petra.” Hanji said in a rather jumpy response, feeling her energy return immediately upon hearing how hurt and tired the other was. With a sigh, she soothingly rubbed the other’s back in an attempt to calm her down; she couldn’t deny that she felt her heart chip away with each sob she heard. “If I let you quit now, you’re going to hate me for the rest of your life.” she added, moving her hand up from the petite woman’s back and into her hair, softly massaging her head.

“The deaths... The uncertainty...” Petra whimpered out, sniffing as she felt her sobs slow and eventually come to a halt. “There’s so much more I wanna do, Hanji. I know that I’m not meant to spend my whole life living like this.” she mumbled, squeezing her eyes shut as she felt another round of waterworks coming.

Gently, Hanji helped Petra sit up in order for her to give the redhead a proper hug. At this point, the brunette had run out of words to say although she completely understood how the other felt, and from the way her hug was reciprocated by a tight squeeze, the other desperately needed to be in someone’s embrace. Slowly, she rocked from side to side as one would do with an infant– it was a common calming method appropriate for all ages, after all.

“We’re not quitting, okay? Quitting is not an option. We’re strong.” Hanji’s tone was hushed, as if she was disclosing a precious secret. “We’ll be okay. Always.”

four “When I grow up to be a lady, I’ll be a queen A lovely queen!”

Despite the young girl being a bit off key, Frieda was genuinely impressed response at how clear and concise her enunciation had become, as well as with how much her confidence has improved. In response, she clapped so enthusiastically that she swore her hands could have broken off. With a light blush painting her cheeks, Historia curtsied in gratitude as she muttered out a shy “thank you.” Chuckling in adoration, the brunette stretched her arms wide, prompting the blonde to run into her embrace.

“Will you be a lovely queen?” she asked in mock curiosity, pressing a kiss to the top of the younger’s head before rocking her back and forth. With no hesitation, Historia responded with an enthusiastic, excited nod, her little heart bubbling with desire thanks to the encouragement the other had given her. “Oh, I just know you will!” Frieda cooed in adoration, squeezing the petite girl tighter in her arms before pressing a loving kiss on her cheek.

Happy and content, Historia giggled at how warm the affection made her feel– it was rare for her to receive such treatment, after all. With sincere love in her heart, she wriggled out of the elder’s arms and stood up to match the brunette’s eye level before enveloping her in a bone-crushing embrace of her own. Though her young mind already knew that this was all temporary, she decided to bask in the heaven-sent moment she was in.

five The two women awkwardly stared at each other for what seemed like ages, while their sons looked at each other with such rage, as if their eyes could pop out of its sockets and engage in a fist fight.

“Well.” Carla, breaking the silence before giving the young boy beside her a gentle nudge to prompt him to sit up straight. “Is there anything you’d like to say to Jean and Mrs. Kirschstein, Eren?” she asked as she shot the turquoise-eyed boy a dangerous, threatening look.

“Sorry.” the boy merely muttered in response, glumly looking down at his hands to avoid his mother’s terrifying gaze. Just when he thought she was satisfied, she gave him a sharp pinch on his side as she urged him in mutters to speak properly. With the pain on his skin and the horrid threat of how his dad could do worse ringing through his ears, Eren immediately blurted out a proper apology. “I’m sorry for pushing you and punching you in the eye, Jean.” his voice was clearer and he even lifted his head to look at his fre-nemy in the eye, resisting the urge to laugh and make a mockery out of the swollen, black and blue eye the other had.

“No, you’re not.” Jean’s response was defiant and snarky, making the two women present gasp in shock as Eren frowned deeply, ignoring the sharp stings emitting from the cuts around his forehead as he attempted to kick the other under the table.

“Jean-bo!” the plump, brown-haired woman seated beside Jean exclaimed, giving his arm a moderate yet threatening slap that warranted a sharp “ow!” from the boy. “You acknowledge his apology and apologize, too!” she exclaimed, immediately backing down and stuttering out apologies upon realizing how disrespectful her son was in front of Mrs. Jaeger.

“Fine.” the two-toned hair boy huffed before facing the brunette seated in front of him. “I’m sorry for calling you stupid and for trying to scratch your eyes out, Eren.” he mumbled, hanging his head in shame afterwards. Looking to his mom for approval, the elder merely nodded and muttered a “that’s better”.

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chronicfangirling · 6 years

Text

Crystal Snow (Hoseok ver.) - Heart Crystal

Pairing: Hoseok x OC Genre: Romance, encounters with beautiful idols, impromptu dates, Christmas kisses--no mistletoe necessary, koi no yokan, love and its possibilities Words: 2499 Summary: Taking a flight to Shanghai as a chance passenger and risking deportation to attend an unlicensed party for the sake of dancing with one Jung Hoseok? Totally worth it.

Crystal Snow (Christmas with hyung line) Seokjin ver. | Yoongi ver. | Hoseok ver. | Namjoon ver.

(2017 December 24)

"I can't believe you let Kim Seokjin go to that ice princess! You know how the Shanghainese would say his name? 'Zhen'--for treasure--meaning you let the grand prize slip out of your hands."

"Nuh-uh!" Hyejoon wagged a finger at her supervisor's face then traipsed down the street, ahead of their group. "Seokjin-oppa was meant to go with her, and I'm meant to come here. He may be a prince, but he's not my prince. My grand prize is out there somewhere, I can feel it."

Ducking into the dark maze of back alleys after Hyejoon, her long-suffering supervisor winced. "Is that why we're heading to that unlicensed night club with a bunch of teens instead of celebrating like proper adults?"

"I guess I'm just nostalgic..." Hyejoon mused. "You know, when I was in school, I once went to this rave--"

"And it was dispersed by the police and you were nearly booked as a juvenile delinquent, but some dude saved you." Her supervisor sighed. "You've told this story many times."

"It's my favorite story after all," she giggled.

The rest of her co-workers all sighed as well, saying that she should've gotten rid of all her rebellious impulses as a child, rather than drag them into a dodgy party in Shanghai and get them all deported. Hyejoon imagined that flight attendants always had such wild adventures on their trips, but they were ground staff after all... still, she wanted to do something crazy for Christmas Eve 2017. She waved her phone containing alert of the party--she just had a good feeling about it.

When they finally found the place, it was at the height of an impromptu couple dance contest. Hyejoon clapped for the current performer, but her hands went still and silent when she caught sight of the man across the dance floor. Bopping his head to the song, even his little graceful gestures seemed timed to the beat. The dance ended with an insane death drop, and he smiled in appreciation--not even the bucket hat obscuring his face could hide the radiance of that smile... like a ray of sunshine in the dim club.

"Hey, want to dare me to enter the contest with that guy?" Hyejoon suggested.

Her supervisor goggled at her. "Umm, no--"

"Well, if you insist!" She fluffed up her hair, free of its usual work-regulation bun for once, and checked that her sequined dress clung at all the right places before she sashayed towards him.

"We totally didn't!" her coworkers yelled after her.

Slipping past the next couple taking their places on the dance floor, Hyejoon smirked at them over her shoulder. "I'm not someone who'll ever back down of a challenge!"

She reached the man, belatedly noticing that he was surrounded by a bunch of suited companions. He himself wore sweater and jeans for a more casual look--but she could tell that they were rather expensive. "Hi!" Waving with both hands and bowing at the same time, Hyejoon greeted the man.

"Oh, hello!" he replied. Up close, he was almost literally shining--beyond his good looks, it was his bright aura that attracted her, like a moth to a flame.

I think I know now... why I ended up here in Shanghai.

"Why don't you enter the contest with me?" she asked.

He tugged the bucket hat lower on his head. "I don't know..."

"Oh, come on!" She winked. "Don't worry so much about it, I won't bring you down."

His companions snickered about him being popular anywhere, and he shushed them before turning back to her. "Uh... I'd much rather just watch right now."

"Aww, but--" Hyejoon patted his hand and he snatched it away. He was slouching in his seat now, as if in hiding, and she realized now that his demurring wasn't out of hesitation, but an actual rejection. "Oh... okay. I'm so sorry. I just... thought there would be good results if the two of us worked at it together." She forced herself to simper cheerfully as she bowed in apology and tiptoed on the edge of the dance floor to rejoin her coworkers.

But they were nowhere to be found in their previous spot, and a couple more performances passed before they tottered back to her, red-cheeked and giddy. Clearly, they each had a shot--or five--to loosen up. "Where were you?" She pouted, unhappy that she was now the only sober one.

"We got some liquid courage for you, crazy girl, not that you need it!" Her supervisor pushed two cocktails in her hands. "And we told the DJ to play that song you're always dancing to."

Hyejoon choked on her drink. "Wait, what? But I'm not dancing--"

To her chagrin, the host was already announcing her as the final entry: "Kim Hyejoon and her partner!"

Sufficiently buzzed, her coworkers whooped and tossed her out into the dance floor. The crowd cheered--then groaned when she attempted to leave, motioning to the glasses still in her hands. Someone relieved her of her drinks and shoved her out again.

The first strains of 'If you leave' floated from the speakers and Hyejoon gawked at the crowd, which was first hushed, then grumbling in discontent as she remained frozen. One partygoer booed and while she was still mentally debating fight versus flight, someone tugged at her hand.

She gasped and found herself pressed against the chest of the shining young man from earlier. "There will be good results if we work at it together." He gave her a small smile as her eyes widened; in shock, in realization, then in hope. He nodded at her. "Ready?"

He twirled her into place beside him, and Hyejoon surrendered to muscle memory to take her to the correct stance. They danced in unison, with the exact same moves, as if they had practiced together hundreds of times before. She let the music take her over, arms popping and feet sliding across the floor. Her partner danced at a level far above hers, but she didn't let that worry her, and enjoyed moving to the rhythm.

The song wound down, and instead of moving to the last stance, he took her hand again--she had felt it coming and was ready for him, and half-dipped, supported by his arms. The crowd went wild but they hardly heard it as they beamed at each other, basking in the rush of the dance.

The host stopped them from leaving and called back all the other couples. Despite the enthusiastic response to their dance, the death drop couple took the win.

"It's okay, Hyejoon, you did great!" her coworkers cheered. "You too, Hyejoon's partner! You were awesome!"

The host distributed participation prizes for all the ladies. Excited, Hyejoon opened the little red velvet box and found a pair of earrings, adorned with heart-shaped crystals. "How pretty!" she exclaimed. Grinning coyly at her partner, she leaned close enough for him to breathe in her perfume. "Could you put it on for me?"

He didn't respond to her blatant flirting, but he took the earrings and carefully put them on her ears, not poking her unnecessarily even once.

Hyejoon tilted her head, feeling the crystals swinging. "How do they look?"

Her partner's smile evaporated and he winced. "Sorry..."

She cringed. "Oh no, does it look that bad?"

"No, you're pretty," he clarified. "But you only got the consolation prize because of me."

"Nuh-uh. I wasn't sure earlier but..." She gripped the rim of his bucket hat, giving him a chance to protest, before pulling it off to fully reveal his handsome face. "You're Jung Hoseok. I'm right, right?"

"Uh, yeah." Seemingly bashful, he scratched at the nape of his neck. "How...?"

"I'd know those moves anywhere--bursting with power but flowing seamlessly." she gushed. In a quieter voice, she revealed: "I've always wanted to dance with you."

"I see," he chuckled.

"And I did. You--" She tapped his chest, right upon his heart. "--are my grand prize." She gazed into his eyes, wondering if she had enough courage left over to kiss him, but her reverie was interrupted by the entire club thrown into a commotion.

"Ack, it's the police!" people screamed.

"You've got to be kidding me!" Hyejoon shrieked. She watched her coworkers rush off and turned to Hoseok, who was waving for his companions to go while they can.

She was clutching at his sleeve and he peeled her hand off--she thought he would slap it away and make his escape--but he grasped it securely. "Can you trust me?"

She nodded. "Of course!'

Walking, Hoseok led her into the street, and she was about to ask why he wasn't hurrying, but he pressed a finger upon his lips for silence. Hoseok walked right into a bunch of policemen who all yelled for them to halt.

"Oh, thank God!" He shouted in English. "We're lost, me and my girlfriend, please help!" He crowded them, loudly asking for directions to the nearest McDonald's until the annoyed policemen finally waved for them to leave. It was only when they were rounding the corner that one of the policemen brought up their fancy clothing and how they had smelled of cigarette smoke and alcohol, and chased after them. But Hoseok led her into a niche between two buildings and they crouched in the shadows as the policemen ran past.

They had barely gone when Hyejoon gave way to emotions bursting in her chest: nervousness, shock, and above all, mirth. "Hah... hahahah!" she cackled.

He gaped at her, as if she had lost her mind. "I don't mean to offend you, but this isn't an appropriate time to be laughing." He shook his head. "What terrible luck to lose a contest and then get caught in a raid."

"No, it's the best luck!" she insisted. "I mean, some people might say, that it's bad luck that the two times I've gone to an illegal party, they both got busted by the police--"

"I hate to tell you this and ruin your good mood, but that is pretty bad luck, yeah." Hoseok wrinkled his nose.

"However!" She bopped the end of his chiseled nose. "Both times I got saved by someone truly amazing."

Leaning against the cruddy wall with no care for her party dress, Hyejoon closed her eyes, as the memories came flooding back. "Gwangju, summer of 2009, there was a party hosted by the most popular dance groups in town." She watched his face for any signs of listlessness, but when he cocked his head to listen, she continued. "At that time, I fought a lot with my parents because no matter how hard I tried, I always ended up as average and that wasn't good enough for them. For once, I wanted to rebel. So I went there."

She snorted at the mental image of her awkward teenage self. "In my average way, I could follow a rhythm but the very best dancer there--he encouraged everyone to let go and pour their feelings into dance."

"And that was when you discovered how much you liked it?" he prompted.

"Yes! It didn't matter that I wasn't a talented dancing star, it was fun." she affirmed. "But then the police came because of reports of underage drinking. I nearly got caught but that same dancer rescued me."

"While we were hiding, just like this, I cried and cried... saying that my parents would never let me back home then, and that I should let the police catch me because it's not like I'll amount to anything--I'll always be the unspecial, ordinary, average me." She shuffled closer to him. "But do you know what he said?"

Hoseok blinked at her, and ventured: "'If you don't work hard, there won't be good results...' was it?"

"You remember?" Giggling, she pointed at herself. "It's me, Kim Hyejoon... I was the girl you saved that time."

His face fell. "... Sorry. I don't remember," he murmured, wringing his hands and looking down at them. "It's just something I say to people all the time."

"It's okay." She caressed his arm and when he glanced up, she smiled. "It doesn't matter that you've forgotten, that I'm only one of the many people you said it to. Because it was what I really needed to hear at that time, so I kept those words in my heart."

"You ended up making your parents proud?" he asked.

"No way!" she pealed in laughter. Noticing Hoseok's confused, slightly horrified frown, she added: "But I also realized that my 'good results' could be different from someone else's good results. Some days, just surviving is good enough. And if I can be happy for that day, then I've also done well."

He stared at her for long moments, pondering her words. Finally, he chuckled. "Then, you're wiser than I could ever be."

"That's why, I want to thank you." she said. Her hand moved down his arm, patting his hand.

"I should be the one to thank you." He took her hesitating hand and squeezed it. "Thank you. Those words that I scattered like seeds in the wind... thank you for letting them root in your heart."

"No matter how many times you forget... I'll always remember," she promised.

Shaking his head, he graced her with that sunny smile, all for her this time. "I don't think I could ever forget you now, Kim Hyejoon."

"Keep me here," she commanded, with an impish flick of her finger against his beating heart.

"This moment will crystallize in my heart." Holding her hand, he crossed his heart with her finger. "Preserved as one of my precious memories."

"And I... I'll keep you here." She pressed the fingers of her free hand against her lips. As she inched closer, he guided the hand he was still holding on his shoulder. They kissed in that blind alley like two teenagers, fulfilling the promise of that interrupted connection from eight years ago.

When they parted, Hoseok blinked at her, as if in a daze. She was about to tease him, but her ears perked up. "Hey, do you hear that?"

"I don't hear anything," he mumbled, still sneaking peeks at her mouth as she talked.

"Exactly. The coast is clear." She grabbed his hand and stepped out of their hiding place.

But her coworkers popped out of another alley, now sober from the shock. "Hyejoon!"

"Hoseok!" His companions had been standing watch and rushed over to him.

"You crazy girl, we thought you were a goner!" her supervisor screamed.

"Hey, let go--!" Protesting when her coworkers tugged at her arm, she struggled to keep hold of Hoseok.

"This is dangerous, if you got caught here it would be very, very bad!" One of Hoseok's companions--his manager, it seemed--seized him by the shoulders and started leading him away.

"Hyung, wait!" Hoseok's hand unlinked with Hyejoon's and he grasped at air in an attempt to maintain the connection, but their respective companions pulled them their separate ways.

"There's no time!" the manager cried and marched him down the alley.

Hyejoon looked over her shoulder, searching for Hoseok and met his eyes--she knew his frantic look was reflected on her own face. To calm him, she quirked her lips in a grin. He grinned back, just he was walked out of the alley and out of sight.

"What happened to you?" her coworkers all asked in concern as they hurried to their hotel.

"Just... making more precious memories," she answered dreamily.

And she would've thought that it were just a Christmas dream, if not for the weight of the heart earrings dangling from her ears, their crystalline coolness brushing against her skin with every step.

One day, I know, our paths will cross again.

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tenroseforeverandever · 6 years

Text

Dear Father Christmas... Chapter 18: December 24, 2033

MASTERPOST

Characters: Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; OC Hope Tyler-Noble; OC Charlotte Tyler-Noble; OC Wilfred Tyler-Noble; OC Therin Thomson; Javic Thane

Rated: Teen

Tags: Family!Fic; Kid!Fic; Pete’s World; Letters to Santa; Christmas Fic; Family; Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Romance; Love; gun violence; violence resulting in death; life-threatening injury; life threatening situations

Summary: When Rose Tyler was little, she always wrote a Christmas wish list to Father Christmas. As she grew older, the wish list became more of a letter to someone she could confide in once a year, but she fell out of the habit somewhere along the way. Now, as a new mum, celebrating her daughter’s first Christmas, Rose takes up writing her Christmas letter to Father Christmas once again.

Rose’s Christmas letters are excerpts from her life with her beloved Tentoo and their children in Pete’s World, written once a year, for each of 31 years.

Chapter Summary: When Rose receives a call telling her that Hope is unwell, she and the Doctor go to her rescue and run into a very familiar stranger.

Notes: @rose–nebula and mrsbertucci are the absolute best. Thank-you, my darlings.

Thanks to @doctorroseprompts for their 31 Days of Ficmas prompts. The prompt I used today was Ice.