#every day I open tumblr and resist the urge to post a link to my csm playlist | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

queenof-literature · 3 years

Text

Goron

Hi all! This is the forth story in my Wild’s Story Hour series, which was originally requests that were sent in, and soon turned into its own series! I’ve been writing this on and off for a few months now, so I’m so happy to post it.

A little note: My Tumblr has been very wonky lately. I’m not sure about y’all, but every time I search for recent in the Linked Universe tag I get spammed with completely random tags not even related to the point where I can’t even see LU content. This is the only tag that’s like this for me. So please know that I’m not ignoring anyone, it’s just been quite laggy and slow for me to get notifications as well.

AO3 Link

Thank you all for your continued support, and I hope you enjoy!

"Thanks for dinner Wild!" Hyrule exclaimed before digging in. Wild heard similar sentiments as he passed out mushroom and veggie rice balls, with some fruit crepes on the side. An odd combination, but that’s apparently what happened when you traveled with a group of eight others. In Twilight’s Hyrule they had found a relatively safe and secluded place for the evening before the sun had begun to set, so Wild took the extra time to put more effort into dinner. The others used to tell him that he didn't need to put so much effort into dinner, they were fine with rations and quick meals over a fire. However after they learned that cooking was what Wild would consider a passion, they allowed themselves to be fed without complaint. If Wild enjoyed it, who were they to stop him. The delicious food was certainly a bonus.

After thanking Wild the group settled around the fire, relaxing into the evening lull Wild had begun to find comforting long ago. He was never expected to talk, he could just sit in peace and listen. And if he chose to talk, which was becoming more frequent as time went on, the others always listened.

But after the… incident when Wild sang Kass' song, no one had asked him to tell anymore stories. After the first night of 'Wild's Story Hour' as Hyrule called it, Wind would often jump on his back and ask questions about his Hyrule. If Wind was anything, he was curious. That trait seemed to be amped up since Wild's Hyrule also had Rito and Koroks. Now though, Wind bit his tongue and kept quiet.

Wild didn't want to admit that he missed it.

He never thought he would miss talking, especially telling an entire story over a campfire. Talking used to feel like giving pieces of himself away, and if he gave too much he would be empty. Now he felt relieved every time he talked about his adventure. Wild loved seeing his brothers’ reactions to his tales, and the more he talked the more weight was lifted off him. That must have been what Warriors was talking about when he said that sometimes it helped to talk to others.

Wild missed it, but he didn't want to bring it up. It was embarrassing, and he didn't want the others to feel forced to listen to him. He was trying to get rid of that mentality but it was hard.

Wind felt guilty too, Wild could tell. Wild wasn't sure the little pirate had ever seen Wild so far gone in panic and anger. He hated that any of them saw him like that, let alone Wind. It wasn't the little pirate's fault, he didn't know that bringing it up would cause Wild's panic, not even Wild himself knew. It hadn't affected their friendship, but Wild didn't want Wind to feel uncomfortable around him at all.

Before he could cucco out, Wild signed for Wind to sit with him when he could. Wind smiled and nodded, quickly finishing his conversation with Four before making his way over.

"Yes, Wild?" Wind asked eagerly, but Wild could still see the apprehension under the surface.

"Are you okay?" Wild asked, skipping the small talk he wasn't good at.

"Of course! Why?" Wild resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Getting Wind, or any of the Links, to admit something was wrong was like pulling teeth. Although, Wild guessed he didn't have much room to talk…

"You've seemed upset lately. Did I do something?" Wild once again got straight to the point. If Wild did anything to upset the younger, he wanted to fix it. And he wanted to fix it now.

"What? Of course not, Wild! I'm sorry I made you think that. It's just… I feel bad I guess.” Wind sighed out, his shoulders slumping out of his fake eagerness. Wild winced slightly, knowing what Wind was talking about. Wild had one of his… attacks, in front of everyone. It started innocently enough, with Wind being curious about a song. It ended with Wild yelling and sobbing about his failures a century ago.

“That wasn’t your fault.” Wild stated firmly. “You didn’t know what was going to happen. No one did, not even me.” Wild trailed off slightly at the last part. Wind’s face had perked up slightly, but he didn’t look completely convinced.

“Wind.” Wild said gently, getting the younger’s attention. “I wouldn’t have sung if I didn’t want to.” Wild paused before admitting the next part, slightly embarrassed. “I like talking about my adventure. It feels nice.” Wild felt his ears turn red, but Wind didn’t seem to mind. In fact, he looked happier than he had in days.

“So… everything is okay? Do you forgive me?” Wind asked hopefully.

“There’s nothing to forgive.” Wild reassured. “Of course everything is okay.”

“Can I…” Wind trailed off from his question, but Wild knew what was going to be asked, and he simply nodded and smirked, opening his arms slightly. Wild caught a flash of Wind’s face, a large beaming grim, before a body launched into his arms from across the log, squeezing the life out of him. Wild squeezed just as hard back, thankful that the matter was behind them. Wild could feel eyes on them, and turned to meet the mirthful gazes of his companions. Wild simply glared at them, warning them not to say anything. This was between him and Wind. But the other Links were simply thankful everything was all right.

“Hey Wild?” Wind’s muffled voice rose from Wild’s chest.

“Hm?” Wild hummed, biting back a smile.

“Do you ever wanna tell another story for us? It’s okay if you say no.” Wind asked into Wild’s tunic. Wind used to bite back on his hugs and physical touches, afraid it would be seen as childish. But after it became more common around camp, and after the other Links understood that Wind simply came from a home where hugs were a common display of affection, Wind didn't feel the need to hide it anymore.

“Yeah, anytime.” Wild smiled.

“Now?” Wind questioned hesitantly.

“Sure.” Wild confirmed, searching through good memories of his adventure. Like an arrow, Wind launched off Wild’s chest, and Wild shoved down his disappointment at the loss of warmth.

“Guys! Shush!” Wind yelled, a hush falling over the camp besides a few grumbles about being interrupted. “Wild’s gonna tell a story!” He shouted in excitement, ignoring Wild’s shocked face. By now, Wind really meant right now.

“Did you inform Wild of this?” Legend asked, smirking at Wild’s shocked face.

“Of course! I asked him!” Wind scolded, turning back around and sitting on his and Wild’s shared log, ignoring Legend rolling his eyes. Wild saw Twilight shoot a look over the fire, silently asking if this was truly alright. Wild gave him a reassuring look and a nod. The camp was once again quiet as they all looked to Wild in interest.

“Uhh. What should I talk about?” Wild questioned awkwardly. It was always so awkward at the start.

“You always ask that, talk about whatever you want.” Legend crossed his arms, and lowered himself to the ground, back against the log.

“There’s two divine beasts left. You can talk about one of those?” Hyrule spoke up beside Legend.

“Okay, Gorons?” Wild suggested. The Gorons were a fun people to be around, and if Wild was honest, he wasn’t ready to touch on the subject on the Zora quite yet. That was too close to Mipha. Mipha wasn’t necessarily a secret, but it was a topic he was still sore about.

“Gorons sound fun. Don’t we all have Gorons in our Hyrule?” Four questioned, receiving nods and noises of confirmation.

“Didn’t Twilight wrestle them?” Sky questioned, receiving blank looks from the others.

“I’m sorry Twilight what?” Warriors’ shocked expression almost sent Wild into a fit of laughter. He couldn’t blame the man though, Wild was just as surprised when Twilight told him about his adventure with the Gorons.

“And you didn’t tell me?” Wind’s cried in betrayal.

“Uhh, I needed my iron boots to do it.” Twilight tried to soothe the outbreak of awe.

“That doesn’t matter with Gorons. Those make you heavier, even someone with above-average strength couldn’t beat a Goron with iron boots.” Four smirked from beside Sky, who was watching the chaos he caused unfold.

“I told y’all I learned how to wrestle in my village!” Twilight shouted with no heat.

“You didn’t tell us you wrestled a Goron!” Wind yelled back.

“He also burned a building down.” Time spoke up, biting back a smile at Twilight’s betrayed expression.

“I told you that in confidence!” Twilight yelled.

“Wait and you give me shit for lighting things on fire?” Wild cried out. Now this was the first he had heard of that.

“You do it for fun!” Twilight tried to defend himself through the uproarious laughter.

“Why did you do it then?” Wild questioned.

“That’s not important!” Twilight huffed.

“Maybe we should call you Wild.” Legend joked.

“Hey don’t you dare-” Twilight began before being interrupted by Four.

“As entertaining as this is, I think Wild was going to tell a story.” He reminded.

“Yeah! Wild talk about the Gorons!” Wind ceased glaring at Twilight in favor of looking at Wild.

“Okay, okay.” Wild said after he was done laughing. “Well you guys know my Death Mountain is really hot with all the lava.”

“Understatement.” Warriors mumbled.

“So I had to pick up some elixirs from Foothill stables and drink them on the way up." Wild started, relaxing into his story as he went.

“Don’t your elixirs only last a couple of hours?” Hyrule titled his head.

“Yeah, why?” Wild questioned.

“That looks like a long and rocky road. What, did you just run through the whole domain?” Hyrule joked, pausing when he saw Wild bite his lip. “Wild!” Hyrule yelled in realization.

"What? I didn't have any other choice! I had plenty of elixirs!" Wild defended.

“What if you ran out?” Four chided with a snort.

“Then I’d teleport away.” Wild shot back.

“Don’t extreme temperatures affect your slate sometimes?” Warriors smirked.

“I… would deal with that when I got there.” Wild huffed at the laughter that came from the others.

“Yeah a lot of your plans involve that.” Legend mumbled.

“Anyway.” Wild interrupted before the conversation could lead to discussing his battle tactics. “I kept running up the path and there were a lot of fire monsters like moblins, and keese and chuchus-” Wild continued.

“Don’t the chuchus in your Hyrule explode?” Hyrule asked once again, eyes shining in excitement.

“Yeah! If I throw bombs at them then I can make a huge explosion! Especially the big ones.” Wild confirmed with a grin.

“No, you two are not having a competition of who can make a bigger explosion when we get to Wild’s Hyrule again.” Time already knew where this would lead. It was best to nip it in the bud now.

“Awe.” Wild and Hyrule groaned.

“We never get to do anything.” Wild mumbled with a pout.

“You were saying?” Time lifted an eyebrow. Wild huffed once more before continuing his story.

“Right. It was a long walk and of course I wasn’t going to risk taking a horse. There were a lot of cliffs along the path and since I didn’t have much time I took the straight path. Then I accidently ran into a Talus!” Wild grinned at the rest of the group’s groans. They had some run-ins with the larger monsters in Wild’s Hyrule, and while they all had tough enemies, Wild’s had some of the largest monsters that were considered relatively common.

“Volcanos have molten rock, how did you miss it?” Warriors joked.

“It was molten rock!” Wild defended. “It blended in perfectly.”

“Wait wait wait.” Four waved his hands. “Your Taluses are also made of magma and volcanic rock?”

“Yep.” Wild confirmed, laughing slightly at the various looks of surprise the Links always held when they learned of new monsters their own Hyrules didn’t have. The other heroes had been near Eldin, but not quite near Goron City enough to see an Igneo Talus. Hopefully they were never dropped off near Death Mountain. Wild didn’t really want to wake up on fire.

“Are there ice and electric ones too.” Legend groaned.

“Ice ones.” Wild answered. “Those ones are really hard to see.”

“Ugh, remind me to watch my step.” Legend rolled his eyes.

“Will do.” Wild deadpanned. “Luckily I had some ice arrows so it was okay. Eventually I made it to the Southern Mine. That’s where the Goron mine for ore!" Wild explained. "I even met another Hylian there! He had some of the Flamebreaker Armor that you get in Goron City.” Wild had shown the group his Flamebreaker Armor before, and some had even tried it on, including Four.

“Oh? Did you seduce this Hylian for clothes as well?” Warriors raised an eyebrow.

“No I did not!” Wild crossed his arms, glaring at the rest of the now laughing heroes. “I’ll never live that down will I?”

“Nope.” Warriors and Legend smirked at Wild’s glare.

“I asked if I could buy it, since he was heading down anyway.” Wild spoke over the chuckling Links. “He said he would give it to me if I caught him 10 fireproof lizards so he could make elixirs. I saw a bunch of lizards while running up so I caught enough.” The rest of the group nodded, they too had to do some… irregular things for important items.

“How do you catch that many lizards that fast?” Wind tilted his head. “Aren’t they quick?”

“Oh yeah. If you’re not careful they’ll scurry away and bury themselves in the mountain side or under rock. I had to crouch and hop around.” Wind laughed at the image of Wild moving around like that.

This was nice.

“Is Goron City far away from the Southern Mine?” Sky asked.

“It’s not too far, but after I got a part of the armor and started approaching the city, Vah Rudania, Daruk’s divine beast, was circling Death Mountain and started launching giant fireballs so I had to dodge them and sprint up to the city.”

“Giant fireballs? Why would the beast attack you?” Hyrule asked.

“Well I’m not sure if Rudania meant to do it since it was circling the volcano, but Rudania was terrorizing Goron City like Medoh was terrorizing the Rito, so I think it was because of the Calamity.” Wild hummed in thought.

“They were infected with… malice, right?” Four questioned, remembering Wild’s pictures of the large pool of intimidating… something. It was apparently a manifestation of the Calamity, and Wild had said it burned whenever he touched it, especially with the Master Sword in hand. Four remembered even the pool looked evil. Pure black roots took hold of whatever was around it, mixed in with deep shades of reds and purples. Wild also told him there was an odd sound it made that set him on edge.

“As far as I know.” Wild nodded, thinking back to the pools of malice in all the Divine Beasts. “Back 100 years ago,” The group perked up in both excitement and worry. It was rare Wild talked about 100 years ago. Both because he couldn’t remember it, and because it had pained him for so long. “The other champions rushed to their Divine Beasts. The plan was I would protect Zelda, and return to defeat Ganon after the Divine Beasts weakened them. Zelda wanted to come with me, since she still believed there was a chance to awaken her power. She always pushed herself so hard…” Wild trailed off for a moment, staring into the fire. Twilight almost began to rise, believing Wild to have slipped into another memory, but Wild shook himself out of it quickly. “Help never came. The Divine Beasts were taken over by malice, and while they piloted themselves the champions were killed by Blights that Ganon had created to directly match their strength and exploit it. And well… you all know how the story ends.” There was a heavy silence, no one knowing what to say, including Wild. Wind scooted over on the log and leaned against Wild gently, showing his silent support. Wild smiled down at him, then at the others around the fire.

“It’s okay.” Wild told them. “Let’s just keep talking about the Gorons?” He proposed.

“Cub…” Time started, not quite knowing how to get his message across. “Talk about whatever you want to. Anytime.” Time finished, hoping Wild knew what he meant, and judging by the smile he did.

“Thanks, Old Man.” Wild said earnestly, thankful for the comfortable warmth at his side.

“Well um…” Wild began, thinking about where he left off. He appreciated that everyone waited to let him think, and didn’t interrupt him. “I finally made it to the city. Since it’s made from the materials they have up there it’s made up of a lot of rock and metals, but it’s still great to look at! They work hard on their signs outside their shops and the children always roll across the bridges over lava. There’s also a whole bunch of statues carved into the mountains.” Wild made large gestures solely with his left arm, since his right was still held captive by Wind.

Time leaned his chin into his hand. It was always interesting to hear about the boys’ Hyrules from their perspectives. Some Hyrules like Wild’s had very little to no government, and Time enjoyed hearing how different civilizations had gotten by.

“I got to meet with their leader, um, the ‘Boss’ of the Gorons. His name is Bludo. He’s really grumpy, and he has a bad back. He told me that him and someone named Yunobo would use cannons to scare off Rudania-”

“You have cannons too?” Wind looked up, always excited to hear how similar his and Wild’s Hyrules could be.

“Mhm!” Wild nodded. “Do you all not?”

“I had air cannons mostly.” Four spoke up, among some murmurs of confirmation among half the Links. It seems Time, Warriors, and Hyrule didn’t have cannons in their Hyrules.

“Since his back was bad I had to go find Yunobo, who disappeared after running an errand for Bludo to get medicine for his back.” Wild continued after briefly explaining how cannons work. “I just had to follow the path up to the Abandoned North Mine. Since Rudania started terrorizing them and monsters infested they stopped using that one as much. There was a Goron watching the area and he told me to not touch the Boss’ cannons.”

“And let me guess you touched the cannons right away didn’t you?” Sky asked, clearly amused.

“Yes I did. There was one right behind him.” Twilight let out a snort, quickly trying to muffle his laughter at Wild’s playful glare. Time too, was greatly amused by Wild’s antics, although his mind wandered a bit. All of these names for the Divine Beast’s names always sounded so familiar. Was it possible Wild too was a part of Time’s hero line? His Hyrule was far larger than the others, though. He wouldn’t be surprised if Wild was in a timeline of his own. Or perhaps somehow the land had changed and Wild was just far, far into the future. Time shook his head slightly and tried to tune back in. He really needed to stop trying to understand how complex time and time travel was.

“The cannons are so fun up there! I could roll my round bombs into them, and they had enough power to blow up a whole monster camp.” As Wild rambled on about all the ways he could use his bombs around Death Mountain, including cannons and carts, his eyes practically sparkled.

“I finally found Yunobo.” Wild got back on track with his story. “He was trapped in a cave-in and I got to use the cannons to get him out. When I went to check on him, he had some sort of orange shield surrounding him, and he was really timid.” Twilight mused on that for a moment. That sounded like how Wild described one of his champion powers.

“I had to run back to Bludo after that, and he told me about Daruk. I looked up at the stature of him and I finally remembered him, at least a little bit.” Wild had a small smile on his face.

“What was he like?” Hyrule questioned.

“He was really kind, as far as I could tell. He joked around with me a lot and he didn’t even care that I never answered. He said he would protect Hyrule to his death.” Wild’s smile turned bittersweet. “I think he always forgot I wasn’t a Goron, or he didn’t care, he would smack my back hard enough to send me flying.” Wild chuckled lightly.

He seemed to be fond of Daruk 100 years ago. Daruk appeared to understand how much pressure was crushing down on Wild, yet he never showed pity or disdain. He even teased him about it. Wild could remember a faint feeling of excitement when being told he would be seeing Daruk’s progress, so he assumed the Link of 100 years ago enjoyed his time among the Gorons, no matter how short it was.

“Awe yes I remember that well. I distinctly remember running away screaming when the Gorons wanted to thank me for helping them.” The camp cackled at the image of a younger Time running away and screaming.

“Bludo asked me to find Yunobo again, since his back was still hurting him.”

“Good to know everyone in every Hyrule is so needy.” The veteren scoffed.

“Turns out that Yunobo works with Bludo because of his powers he got from Daruk, the forcefield I was talking about. Yunobo hops in a giant cannon along Death Mountain, and Bludo launches him at Rudania.” Wild explained.

“That… sounds dangerous.” Sky laughed a little.

“Yeah… but Daruk’s shield is indestructible! Only problem was the guardian sentries surrounding the mountain.”

“The what?” Wind raised his head from Wild’s shoulder to look at the older boy.

“Rudania sent them to guard the area once we finally arrived at the base of Death Mountain.” Wind nodded and plopped his head back onto Wild’s shoulder, no one daring to tease either of them, even in good fun. “If they caught me with their lights, they would send magma bombs right onto the path!”

“And how do you know that? Did you get caught?” Warriors asked, slightly surprised Wild would get caught. He could be quite sneaky when he wanted to be.

“Well I was curious…”

“Wild!” Warriors pinched the bridge of his nose.

“I ran back to the base after I tested it and Yunobo had his shield!” Wild defended against the groans and muffled laughs. “Besides I was about to launch someone out of a cannon I wanted to know what we were up against. I avoided the sentries the rest of the time, and I had to whistle for Yunobo to stop and go, and there were some Moblins on the way up.” The rest of the group could imagine that climbing Death Mountain, especially one as large as Wild, while avoiding sentries, fighting monsters, and whistling for someone to stop and go would be tedious.

“Everytime I fired Yunobo from the cannon Rudania fled further around the volcano, and we made it all the way to the top!”

“Did you set off anymore sentries?” Twilight questioned.

“No!” Wild frowned. “I’m not completely reckless you know!” Wild stated, not appreciating the silence that followed his statement. “I’ll have you know I made it all the way to the top!”

“And how did you get into Vah Rudania?” Time raised an eyebrow.

“I…” Wild started boldly, before realizing exactly how he got into the Divine Beast.

“You what.” Twilight narrowed his eyes.

“I… jumped.” Wild shrugged the shoulder Wind wasn’t resting his head on. “Once I got into-”

“You jumped where.” Time smirked. That bastard, he knew something was up and he was gonna sic Twilight on him! Wild would find a way to get revenge later.

“Vah Rudania was in the middle of Death Mountain so I used my paraglider-” Wild once again tried to brush this portion of the story off.

“You jumped into the middle of an active volcano?” Four cackled, the first one to understand what Wild was saying and showing an odd lack of restraint.

“Wild.” Twilight chided in ‘that voice’.

“Don’t ‘Wild’ me you lit a building on fire!” Wild defended.

“See Time! This is why I didn’t want you to tell them!”

“How did you know your paraglider wouldn’t burn up?” Warriors lips quivered under the strain of covering a grin.

“I would deal with that when I got there!” Wild claimed once again, trying not to focus on the slight flaws in his argument.

“How? How would you deal with that?” Legend threw his hands up at his friend’s stupidity.

“I don't know Legend. I never got there so I never had to deal with it, since it turned out fine.”

“What happened next?” Hyrule asked, covering for Wild and moving the conversation forward. Wild held back a fond smirk, he’d have to thank Hyrule later.

“Glad you asked, Hyrule!” Wild ignored any other questions. “I heard Daruk’s voice telling me I had to go find the terminal as usual, but this time inside the Divine Beast was pitch black.” The group had finally stopped asking questions and started listening to the story with interest.

“I had to get rid of pools of malice by shooting the eyes, and I had to light some areas up. Once I reached the terminal there were some places that opened up so it was lit up again.”

“Did this one rotate like the other Divine Beasts?” Legend asked from his place against his log.

“Yeah I could control it with my slate like the other ones. There were all kinds of puzzles like the last beast, like this one where I had to light my arrow with blue flame and shoot it through a hole in the door, then-”

The rest of the Links listened intently as Wild went into the intricate details of the different puzzles within the beast. They were always interested to hear both about the Sheikah technology of Wild’s world, and how he had to use what was available to him to solve them. As much as they teased Wild for being stupid and reckless, he really was intelligent, espeically when it came to logic and puzzles. Twilight remembered how some markets in his Hyrule had little puzzles made of wood,each one requiring moving certain pieces to unlock different parts. Twilight had never been particularly interested in them, but he wondered if Wild would be, if Twilight found one complicated enough. He’d have to get away from the group and find one whenever they ended up near one of his markets. Perhaps even Four and Sky would be interested in getting their hands on them and taking them apart.

“-and I finally got to the last terminal and unlocked it.” Wild continued, barely pausing to breathe. The group wasn’t sure if he was aware of how much he was talking, or how rapidly, but they didn’t dare interrupt. “Fireblight Ganon manifested, and had the power to throw huge fireballs. But he had to suck in everything around to create them. So I threw my bombs into his mouth and blew them up. Other than that, I just had to get up close.” Wild described the fight in an almost casual sense, even though it seemed these blights were pieces of Ganon himself. It seemed some blights were far easier than others.

“When Daruk appeared, I still only had one memory of him, but he seemed as kind as he had been in my memory.” Wild had a small smile. “After freeing the beast I got teleported back to Goron City, and Vah Rudania took its position against the Calamity alongside, at the time, the Zora domain’s beast.” Wild explained. “Bludo thanked me, even though he hadn’t really understood what I did. I said goodbye to Yunobo, and, uh, that was that.” Wild ended his story as awkward as always, wincing at his own words. His throat, still unused to talking so much for such a long amount of time, felt as though he had swallowed sand.

“Thanks for the story, Wild!” Wild looked down at the sailor, something shining in the younger’s eyes he couldn’t quite place.

“Yeah! I always like hearing about how your guys’ kingdoms compare to mine.” Sky smiled, kindly shuffling and reaching over, handing Wild his water pouch. How he knew Wild needed it, or when he even got a hold of it, Wild would never know. Wild nodded in thanks and began sipping at the water, resisting the urge to chug it all in one gulp, as everyone’s voices blended slightly, creating a warm atmosphere.

The group continued to discuss different topics, going off on different tangents relating to Gorons and their Hyrules, all of which Wild was perfectly content to just listen, occasionally answering questions directed at him.

With the warm weight against his shoulder, and the comfortable but lively chatter surrounding him, Wild allowed himself to just exist within the moment, feeling himself relax further.

“Hey Wild?” Wild felt the head against his shoulder stir, and Wild looked down to meet a fellow set of blue eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Thanks for the story.” A relaxed but genuine smile reached Wind’s expressive face.

“No, Wind. Thank you.”

~~~

Very minor spoiler for Age of Calamity: The fact that BOTW/AOC Link canonically eats rocks is beautiful to me.

Wild loves puzzles, change my mind.

I like to write Wild how I play video games in general, which is just screwing around and seeing what happens.

I’m sorry if I get anything wrong about other Hyrules. I’ve played a good amount of the Zelda games but it’s been a long time since not a lot of them are on consoles I have :(

56 notes · View notes

winterhawkwonderland · 3 years

Text

2020 Exchange Round up!

It’s here!!! An easy to find complete list of works from our 2020 Winterhawk Wonderland Exchange event. It is listed by title of work and author or artist, and includes rating, summary, and word count (if applicable). Our event excluded any of the AO3 Big Four warnings, but please do check tags and warnings on each work before diving in, just in case you find something there that squicks or triggers you!

Once again, thank you all so much for participating and making this a great event! Love the Winterhawk fandom!

If you do not see your work listed, please contact the Mods and we will update the post - all works were pulled from the AO3 Collection, but it’s possible we overlooked something or made a mistake! Additionally - Tumblr (in true Tumblr fashion) would not let us tag some creators - their names are on the list but the hyperlink doesn’t work. We apologize for the technical difficulty, but have no way of fixing broken Tumblr links. Please know that no offense was intended.

The 300 Club by @fosterthefuture for @gwhell. Rated T, 10,109 words “Me here?” Bucky asks, a little hysterically. “What do you expect me to do, be the one to haul your frozen body in from the snow bank you inevitably fall into and die in?”Clint chuckles, as though what Bucky’s asked is completely illogical, which it decidedly is not. “Nah, you can suit up if you want to come along to make sure I stay on track, but I’ll make it back just fine. I really just need you to be here to make sure the door stays open, help me get my boots off and into those blankets when I get back.”“Clint,” Bucky asks, eyes now closed. “Please tell me you wouldn’t do this if you were completely alone.”The silence that emanates from the sauna is telling.“Well,” Clint finally says, “I’m trying to not get into the habit of lying to you, Barnes.”

40k misunderstandings by @verdantbogmoth for @flawsinthevoodoo. Not Rated, 3,280 words. “Are they real?” Bucky gasps. “Who keeps bags of real rose petals just lying on hand?”“Tony, for special random events and for us to steal to have fun with,” Clint supplies helpfully. “Where do they go?”“Everywhere,” Bucky decides. “The couch, the table, the fucking tv stand.” Clint pops the bag and they spend several minutes turning Bucky’s living area into a very perfumed, petal draped nightmare. “Oh, my god.” Bucky says gleefully. “It looks like a porno,” Clint claps. “A serial killer porno!” Bucky amends. “This is fantastic. Why aren’t rose petals everywhere, always. Why don’t more people just throw them around for any old event?”

[ART] Christmas fluff by @elynehil for @chekov-in-a-dress. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift :)

[ART] Cooking By The Book by @not-the-blue for @thegrowingwordsmith. Rated G. Clint attempts a holiday recipe from Bucky's childhood. He... might need a second attempt.

[art] i (heart) hawkeye by @gwhells for @lantaniel. Rated G. Art for lantaniel for the Winterhawk wonderland gift exchange!

[ART] i still feel this way when light catches your face by @quicksillver for @sevdrag. Rated G. Winterhawk Wonderland gift! :)

An Affinity for Elf Culture by @bella-dahlia for @trekchik. Rated T. 8,501 words. When Bucky Barnes was told he would be doing press and community outreach as part of his prosthetic program, no one mentioned to him it would involve dressing up like an Elf from the North Pole.The hella cute blonde elf in head to toe purple hadn't been brought up either.Hiding in his hoodie wasn't going to be an option, was it?

All I Want for the Holidays Is You by @merelypassingtime for @flowerparrish. Rated G. 7,205 words. Clint obligingly took the last name in the hat. Unfolding it he read the name, Bucky. Crap. What was he supposed to do with that? When Clint draws Bucky’s name for the Avengers holiday gift exchange, he struggles to find the perfect gift.

as long as it’s with you by @theproblemwithstardust for @theonlyceeceej. Rated T. 2,651 words. Clint didn’t know when the thing between him and Bucky became an actual thing. At some point the banter had evolved from a fun and engaging way to pass the time into a weirdly competitive game of flirting chicken.

A bad day turned good by @gabrielsammysangel for @misterknife. Rated G. 1,115 words. Clint Barton was having a bad day, one kiss to take it all away. Aka how a full bad day can be wipped away when you have a good boyfriend.

Bandages and Soot by @fanbinbun for @hawkguyandthewinterdude. Rated T. 2,358 words. “Oh, you’re new. Hi! I’m Clint. I come here often.” “I have been warned.” Bucky said with amusement curling his lips. “Got a name, or should I just give in and start calling you ‘hot nurse’?”

Because of Coffee and a Chocolate Doughnut. by @jazzrose343 for @loonyloopylisa. Rated M. 5,257 words. Bucky is an Actor. Clint is stunt actor and coordinator. Shenanigans Happen

Better Than Fine by @vexbatch for @theproblemwithstardust. Rated T. 4,439 words. Clint promised Kate he'd bring a plus one to her engagement party, but now he needs to find one. Maybe Bucky will do him a favor? Maybe Clint's crush on Bucky won't be a problem for said favor?

[ART] The Cat doesn't agree by @misterknife for @Inktastic1711. Rated G. 5 words. Clint was determined to get the best family photo this year. Except now he's pretty sure that fighting alien hoards or doombot armies might actually be easier than wrangling a cat into a sweater.Bucky says that Alpine's sorry.Clint thinks she might kill him in his sleep.

cause it's just what you must do by @sevdrag for yamyamyam. Rated T. 3,399 words. Clint ducks away at Tony's holiday party for a breather. Little does he know this closet is occupied.

Christmas With the Barnes's by @jstabe for @claraxbarton. Rated T. 3,163 words. He knows Clint is nervous. If he’s honest, he is a little too. He and Clint have been dating just shy of two years but with their hectic work schedules, it’s rare for them to have full days off together so Clint isn’t used to large family gatherings.

The Common Room by @trekchik for @nana-evans. Rated E. 1094 words. No one knows they're together. Right?

Communication is key by @averyrogers83writes for @harishe-art. Rated G. 3,434 words. Bucky screws up and pisses Clint off possibly ruining any chance of having more than a working relationship with the archer.

[ART] Cookies For Two by madnerding for @hopelessly-me. Rated G. 29 words. My prompt was for cookie decorating and I hope I delivered. Enjoy!

Coping Mechanisms by @mariana-oconnor for @feathers-and-cigarettes. Rated E. 4,321 words. After the events of Freefall, Clint Barton is exhausted, bruised and on everyone's Most Wanted list. Luckily, or unluckily, it's Bucky Barnes who ends up finding him.

Cover Me by @downwarddnaspiral for @feedmecookiesnow. Rated M. 8,618 words. Clint and Bucky end up off the grid and in close quarters. Featuring the world’s crappiest safehouse, a semi-retired spy, and an assassin with strong opinions about the cold.

Delicate, hand wash only by @mollynoble for @pherryt. Rated E. 6,074 words. “Hey, Buck, what do you need?” Clint moved closer, he wanted to reach out but he resisted the urge, that could be a bad idea right now. “What can I do to help?” He pitched his voice low and soothing. There was a pause, then Bucky's eyes focused on him. “Right now all I want is a bath and then sleep.”

Draw Me Like One of Your Frenchmen by @alchemistdoctor for @thwip. Rated M. 1,410 words. This is written for andthwip in the winterhawk wonderland exchange, who requested sexting during inappropriate times, date night ends in trying a new kink, or getting off in the field. I managed the first two!

Fate or Natasha by bear_shark for @kidd-you-not. Rated G. 1,663 words. How it ended: Bucky watched the rise and fall of Clint’s chest while he slept. Every few minutes, he would snuffle and rub his face against Bucky’s chest. Bucky’s phone pinged, and he carefully checked his texts. Natasha: How did your date with Clint go? Bucky sat up quickly, jostling Clint. “What the hell?”

The Fight Before Christmas by @theonlyceeceej for @jstabe. Rated E. 4,040 words. Now, don’t let it be said that Bucky couldn’t take a joke. He could. Really. But sometimes it was just too much. Clint was just too much. Clint is the epitome of a schoolboy with a crush; Pulling pigtails, calling names, the lot! Ok, maybe it was more than a crush, judging by the many thoughts about being thrown around by the Winter Soldier. He just needed to get his attention... But will it work?

For This by @endof-theline for @elynehil. Rated G. 5,652 words. Bucky and Clint are moving in together and it's not just the boys we have to worry about, because Lucky and Alpine are moving too!

Getaway Car by @feedmecookiesnow for @genderfluid-and-confuzled. Rated G. 4,405 words. The guy regains his balance and starts running again. He slips one more time, slides a little more, and then suddenly he’s right next to the car, fumbling at the handle of the passenger side door. A blast of cold wind comes as he yanks it open, practically falling into the seat in a swirl of snowflakes. “Go, go!” he yells, and Clint goes. He doesn’t even question it, just slams the car into drive and shoots out into the street, skidding a little on the ice.

Guardian Angel by @chrissihr for @spacetimeconundrum. Rated T. 3,469 words. Clint attracts strays like moths to flame. All he wanted to do was bring home a puppy he found in a box marked ‘free’ in crayon. It was just sitting out in the rain under the awning in front of his neighborhood pizza place.He couldn't just leave it there ... right?

Hit Me With Your Best Shots by @thegrowingwordsmith for @fosterthefuture. Rated G. 2,185 words. As a barista, Bucky has witnessed a lot of crazy customers and their creations. He has made drinks with so much syrup that there was barely room for coffee, and gotten orders with so many modifications that it had to print on multiple stickers. None, however, even came close to the strangeness of Too Much Caffeine guy.

[ART] How do you like them apples? by @lantaniel for @vexbatch. Rated G. Because Clint is incapable of 1.doing a calm activity, and 2.not climbing a tree.

Howl by @drgrlfriend for @mariana-oconnor. Rated T. 9,729 words. Excerpt: Bucky gets that uncomfortable feeling again, like he missed something. Lost time maybe. It’s been happening less and less, but it still happens. “I don’t know what you mean.” The man runs a broad hand up the back of his neck, mouth pulling to the side as he seems to consider his words. “Skin feels too tight sometimes? Feels like you gotta keep moving, but no place feels right? Got an ache deep in your bones that you just can’t seem to get rid of?” “What —” Bucky swallows, the rest of the sentence jagged in his throat. He knows there are Avengers who are witches, or telepaths, or whatever, but he’d never heard of Hawkeye being one of them. “How are you — are you in my head? —”

[ART] I got you by @vexedbeverage for @gabrielsammysangel. Rated T. 100 words. I decided I wanted to do some art but then my writing brain told me I couldn't stop there. I've never done a drabble before so I thought I'd give it a try!

I Love How Your Soul is A Mix of Chaos and Art by @flawsinthevoodoo for @merelypassingtime. Rated T. 5,745 words. This is basically a 5+1 where Clint "Borrows" a great many hoodies as a coping mechanism and Bucky decides Clint needs to be a part of his life, not just his laundry.

if these wings could fly by @flowerparrish for @hawksonfire. Rated M. 4,018 words. He waits a few moments, pretty sure he’s going to have to start knocking again, when the door swings open. There’s Bucky, shirtless, disheveled, wings spread out behind him like some kind of tragic painting of an angel. Not that Clint knows much about art, but with the dark colors and dim lights he thinks this could totally have been something one of those old dudes dreamed up.

It Must be Winter in my Heart by @harishe-art for @jazzrose343. Rated G. 3,055 words. It's the holiday season and for some reason Clint and Bucky keep getting mistaken as a couple. They hadn't even planned to meet up most of them time. Why does this keep happening to them?

It was Only a Winter's Tale by @harishe-art for @averyrogers83. Rated G. 1,628 words. Clint and Bucky prepare to celebrate their first winter holiday together when Bucky has a realization during an argument.

it was peace by @loonyloopylisa for @drgrlfriend. Rated G. 1,932 words. “Um, hi, I’m Bucky?” he said, hating himself for the way it came out like a question. “Hi Bucky,” the man answered, a wide smile on his tan face, “I’m Clint. What can I do for you?” Inwardly thankful for this therapist for making him practice he said, “I was wondering if you had any volunteer opportunities?” Clint gave him a considering look, bright blue eyes narrowed thoughtfully. Bucky was sure he was assessing him and finding him lacking, taking in the missing arm and coming up with a reason Bucky wouldn’t fit in. He was bracing himself for the rejection when Clint said, “sure.”

A Kind of Magic by @sian1359 for bear_shark. Rated G. 7.034 words. Bucky has some help adapting from being Hydra's Winter Soldier to becoming the Avenger's Winter Soldier

Lilac you a lot by @hawkguyandthewinterdude for @harishe-art. Rated T. 6,490 words. It starts with one purple sock and just escalates from there.

Lost Time by @lissadiane for @vexedbeverage. Rated T. 10,029 words. Clint’s always known the universe doesn’t like him all that much. But all he knows now, as his heart beats out a rhythm and there isn’t a heartbeat to harmonize with it, is that he’s found his soulmate -- and he’s been dead for over 70 years. It’s ironic. It burns. It shouldn’t surprise him. Barney won’t be surprised. Barney’s been saying the universe has it out for them for Clint’s whole life. And this is just further proof. In which soulmates exist but Clint's parents are proof that sometimes, they go terribly wrong.

The Maybe To Your Story by @kangofu-cb for @mollynoble. Rated E. 5,162 words. Bucky walked out of the shared bathroom whistling under his breath, happily ignoring Steve’s groan as he whipped off the towel around his waist to half-assedly swipe at the water droplets on his shoulders. “Oh, you’re still here?” he asked blithely, toweling at his hair. “Might want to shake a leg before you get an eyeful of something you want to see even less than my dick.” “I’m going, I’m going,” Steve grumbled. “Fuck. Can’t believe I’m getting sexiled for the third time this week. For Barton.” Or, instead of talking about their feelings, Clint and Bucky decide to fuck about it.

my hands no longer an afterthought by @shatteredhourglass for @quicksillver. Rated T. 2,922 words. Bucky's moving on with his life. Shaking off the Soldier. There's still that one nagging, blond idiot-shaped regret, though.

Nowhere to go but with you by Lacerta for @sian1359. Rated G. 5,905 words. Clint fights the urge to cross his arms, keeping them hanging loosely by his sides instead, and forces himself to relax his shoulders. It’s just a small precaution in case he needs to react fast but, god, he hopes it doesn’t come to that. He doubts any precaution that doesn’t include a loaded weapon would help him last more than a minute. He watches the man sitting across the kitchen table from him, curled in on himself under Clint’s warmest blanket with his hands wrapped around a steaming cup of coffee, and tries to wrap his head around the very unusual, very alarming situation he has gotten himself into.

On The Fifth Day of Christmas, The Winter Soldier Stole For Me..... by @ch3ls3ara3 for @alchemistdoctor. Rated T. 8,178 words. “Are these pears? Why the hell is there a pear tree in my apartment?” he asked Lucky who was now sitting patiently, staring up at the bird with his tongue hanging out and tail wagging. “What is happening?” Clint Barton knew he was a disaster, it never really shocked him anymore when he ended up in strange situations. These twelve days leading up to Christmas, though? Those days he would have never seen coming.

the one where Clint hates christmas horror by @thwip for @bella-dahlia. Rated M. 2,898 words. “We take turns, Clint. This week is Nat’s turn, next week is yours,” Tony quips, sipping from his own mug. “We can watch The Holiday, for the third year in a row, then.” Clint opens his mouth and starts to protest Tony’s eye roll because The Holiday is a cinematic masterpiece and Kate Winslet may give her best performance yet, Tony! Not to mention Cameron Diaz! Singing Mr Brightside! It’s a great film, when the front door opens and Bucky and Steve walk in, laughing about something. Clint's mouth snaps shut and his eyes immediately flicking towards Bucky, admiring the way the navy fabric of his henley clings to the thick biceps that are almost bursting out of it.

Operation Snowbound by RedTeamShark for @heartonfirewrites. Rated G. 4,048 words. The mission is a simple job: tag a convoy as it drives through the pass and then skedaddle back down the mountain. Easy enough that Clint could do it in his sleep. And he doesn’t even have to pull the trigger, that’s what Bucky’s there for. Until an unexpected weather event leaves the two of them stranded on a mountainside in a blizzard, battling the cold, Clint’s taste in coffee, and Bucky’s idea of idle conversation.

Outside the World by @pherryt for @verdantbogmoth. Rated G. 4,767 words. Bucky doesn't really remember who he is, and what little he does remember is impossible. All his therapists have said so. There's no way he can be who he thinks he is - a character from a children's book.And yet, the world around him just doesn't *feel* right - its too dark, too colorless and doesn't match the vibrancy of his dreams. Dreams he tries to capture both on paper and on his walls.Bucky doesn't have any answers he can count on, just the hat he's kept all these years, but that guy that started following him - as vibrant and eye-catching as the pieces of Bucky's dreams -Well, he just might.

The Prince's "Delivery Boy" by allyouneedissleep for @endof-theline. Rated T. 4,917 words. He wouldn’t have any issues at all with the secrecy rules stating that only people in confirmed legal marriages could tell their significant other about their job if he was planning to marry anyone except the Prince who was first in line to take over as King of Brooklyn after his marriage went through. Clint was about to effectively become Queen of Brooklyn and he couldn’t even tell his fiance what he did for a living. As far as Bucky knew, he was a delivery boy. A DELIVERY BOY.

[ART] Snow Way Out! by @inktastic1711 for @fanbinbun. Rated G. 24 words. Prompt: While on a mission, Clint and Bucky end up on an impromptu sledding trip down the snowy hill/mountain to escape the bad guys. Bonus points if the sled isn't actually a sled.

Snowed In by @chekov-in-a-dress for @ch3ls3ara3. Rated T. 4,332 words. Secret Santa Story for CarafeOfColdBrew! Dad Bucky and his daughter Nat are on their way to Bentonsport where Bucky is supposed to check out a possible site to build a resort when they get overwhelmed by a snowstorm. How lucky that they get pointed to a bed and breakfast owned by a certain handsome dork.

So much to say (I just can't speak) by @hopelessly-me for Allyouneedissleep. Rated T. 3,260 words. Bucky has never considered himself the jealous type. But when Steve and Clint start hanging out more and more, Bucky starts pulling back to protect his own feelings.

Some Luck by @claraxbarton for @not-the-blue. Rated T. 3,558 words. “Cowboys?” he asked. Judith smiled at him. “I love to give my darlings what they want.”

a storm is comin' in by @heartonfirewrites for @chrissihr. Rated T. 9,686 words. Sasquatches don’t exist. Clint is sure of it. So what’s that fuckin' bigass yeti doing outside Tony’s upstate cabin in the middle of a nor’easter, looming ominously and ruining Clint’s plans for a quiet Christmas alone with Lucky?

Time and Time Again by @pherryt for @shatteredhourglass. Rated E. 6,497 words. The past has a way of catching up to people and Clint knows that better than most. Despite that ingrained life lesson, he still doesn't expect it when a part of Steve's past turns out to also be part of Clint’s. He's... not sure where to go from here.

too cold to feel (but i know you're there) by @hawksonfire for @trashcanakin. Rated T. 1,983 words. Clint’s been cold his whole life. He doesn’t mind, really, has learned to always keep a pair of gloves on him, even in the summer. He gets weird looks for it, but he stopped caring what people thought of him a long time ago. His apartment has always got spare blankets laying around, and his dresser is jam packed with thick pairs of socks.

[ART] A Walk in the Woods by @spacetimeconundrum for @downwarddnaspiral. Rated T. One finds the strangest things in the woods...

What's a Guy Like You Doing in a Place Like This by @sevdrag for @kangofu-cb. Rated T. 8,091 words. A 5+1 fic for Winterhawk Wonderland: Five Times It Wasn't A Date, and One Time It Actually Was.

Word Search by yamyamyam for RedTeamShark. Rated T. 3,858 words. Bucky doesn't understand why he should have to see a doctor about a measly little bullet wound. Steve doesn't understand why that would be optional, Jesus Christ, Buck, we can have nice things now. Clint doesn't understand why he can't visit Bucky in the super-secure lockdown ward. The NYFD doesn't understand why Clint can't get out of a baby swing without the jaws of life. Natasha doesn't understand why she puts up with any of these idiots.

[ART] You Come Here Often? by @trashcanakin for Madnerding. Rated G. winterHawk in the vents.

You had me at Loathing by @kidd-you-not for Lacerta. Rated T. 5,715 words. "What?" he asks absolutely no one, completely baffled. Movement to his left catches his eye and he twists around, still hanging from the balcony railing by his legs, and gapes. There, right there on the adjourning apartment building, is a man. A man clad all in black, with chestnut brown hair falling to his chin and a mask covering the lower part of his face. Holding a sniper rifle in his right hand and giving Clint a mocking little salute with the left. "Motherfucker!" Clint screams. Hawkeye and the Winter Soldier work for competing companies. Unfortunately for everyone involved, they cross paths on more jobs than either of their handlers can endure.

Honorable Mention:

The Opposite of Love by @teeelsie-posts for @loonyloopylisa. Rated E. 10,000 words. You know that social media post where the guy says he’s a felon and he’ll come terrorize your family for Thanksgiving in exchange for a free meal? Yeah, that’s what this is. Except that Clint is Clint, and Bucky is Bucky, and they’re both Avengers, but Clint’s family is a bunch of assholes and Bucky decides to help him out with that. Oh, and it’s Christmas, not Thanksgiving. Mod Note: This fic was begun for last year’s exchange then discarded for another idea, but Teeelsie finished it unexpectedly and asked permission to include it in this year’s collection and we were happy to allow that. Please enjoy!

#winterhawk #winterhawk wonderland exchange 2020 #event round up #masterpost #master post #NOW WITH TAGS

64 notes · View notes

flightrules · 3 years

Text

Which Kind Do You Want to Be?

Chapter 6: No Promises

Sometimes, a sleepless night is a good thing.

Summary: This is a story about trust and kindness, loneliness and loss, belief and transgression. And two people crossing paths just long enough to find each other.

Previous chapters: I keep hearing tumblr suppresses posts with links. So, visit the pinned post on my blog or the same username on AO3.

Relationships and characters: Din/female reader (both similar age to Din in canon), Grogu, and a cameo from Peli.

Rating: Mature? Explicit? Anyhow, grown-up sexy stuff. Please be old enough to be reading this kind of thing.

Tags and warnings: Moments of angst, domesticity, kindness, explicit consent, and Din doing his best to be a conscientious parent in the midst of everything. Heads up for descriptions of canon-typical violence, mention of past dubious consent, and a moment of (unintentional) violence between our protagonists. Ending is bittersweet.

Supper is the same as the midday meal, cold rations washed down with tinny tasting water. "You eat like this all the time?"

"I try not to," he says. "He needs real food. I haven't had much chance to go shopping."

The child is sitting on your lap now, as you hold his little tray for him and he picks out bites to eat. He's seemed subdued ever since your game of chase went so wrong.

It's a bit of a balancing act to manage your own meal while keeping the tray steady and the little body balanced. But you turned down the man's offer to take him.

You should be careful about letting the child think there's something changing here, that you'll be a presence in his life.

It's just so nice to imagine, for a small moment, that you could be. That a child's laughter could be part of your world again.

There's not much conversation over the meal. You're tired and your body still has that vague achy feeling, like it isn't ready to forget getting thrown to your knees.

The ration trays get washed in the sink again, and then the child gets a bath in the sink again, too.

"You don't mind, do you?" he asks first. "He doesn't like the sonic shower. I think it's hard on his ears."

You stay at the table while he pushes his sleeves up past his elbows, pops the child into a mess of warm water and soap bubbles, and lets him splash around a bit. By the time the man lifts him out again, there are bubbles all across the counter and water on the floor. "I've told you not to do that," he says mildly as he wraps the child in a towel and, holding him in one arm, swipes a rag across the counter and then uses one foot to wipe the rag along the floor.

He crouches to pick the rag up again, a perfectly balanced movement with the child cuddled against his chest.

"I'll let you get him ready for bed," you say, getting up from the table and resisting the urge to go over there and melt yourself against this man. You are not his family, or the child's, and you need to remember it for yourself as much as for the little one.

The bedtime routine consists of a quiet, one-sided conversation, the man narrating all the little things they did today and the child cooing in response. You take the opportunity to use the ‘fresher while he’s busy in the little sleeping room, then spread out your bedroll, stuffing some clean clothes in a carry-sack to serve as a pillow. It's early, but you stretch out and close your own eyes, letting your back and shoulders rest flat against the blanket.

There's something comforting about his voice, the slight gravel in it, the way almost everything he tells the child is framed as "we." You've never been sure how much the child understands, but you hope he can at least hear how safe he is in this man's care.

You're almost asleep, yourself, by the time he gets to how he hurt you. "I made a mistake," he says, clear and matter-of-fact. "I'll always protect you, but that doesn't mean it's all right to hurt our friend. I want you to know we can trust her. Don't make the same mistake I did."

That's very sweet, you think drowsily. As if the tiny creature could do you any harm.

"Are you awake?"

You open your eyes to find he's standing a couple of meters away. Earlier today you might have thought that strange, but now you think, Right. No sudden moves.

"May I…" his voice trails off.

You sit up, making room for him to join you. And now it's your turn to ask, as he's left a careful few centimeters space between. "I'd like to touch you."

His voice is quiet, his usual confident tone sounding suddenly half strangled. "I'd like that."

You don't do it right away, though. You look at him, contemplating. There are curls falling over his forehead again. The scruff of beard he had yesterday is gone. Did he shave for you, or is that just something he does every few days? With the helmet covering his face all the time, he certainly wouldn't have to worry about looking neat.

Loose as it is, the shirt he's wearing does nothing to hide his solid-looking shoulders, and you've already seen the shape of his chest and waist from the t-shirt he had on this morning. Stars, that was so long ago.

You turn your body toward him and reach out, so slowly, to skim your hands over his hips and under his shirt, pushing the fabric up to bare the flat plane of his stomach, and then a little more so your hands are framing the bottom of his ribs. "Help me?" you say, meaning help me get your shirt off, but he's just staring at you, lips slightly parted, not moving at all.

"You tell me if you want me to stop," you remind him, and then get up onto your knees so you can lift his shirt further. The bruises from earlier remind you to move carefully, but you're able to shift your weight so it almost doesn't hurt to kneel.

He has dark hair across his chest. You resist the urge to run your thumb across one nipple, instead asking him more clearly to lift his arms so you can get the shirt over his head.

He does, now, taking over with a single smooth movement and then actually stopping to fold the thing and set it aside.

There's something about that that makes your heart hurt. That makes you think you could fall in love with him, if you had the opportunity to try.

You do finally have the chance to see what happens when you drag your teeth across his ribs. You start at his collarbone, lining kisses from neck to shoulder, then down over the muscles of his chest. As you do you can feel his breathing quicken, turning to a gasp as you go from soft kisses to the scrape of teeth. You should probably remind him to breathe but now you're tracing your tongue along a pale line of scar where, you realize, the beskar breastplate doesn't reach.

His hands on your shoulders stop you. He's gentle but firm, guiding your body back upright, giving you plenty of time to fight it if you want to.

You don't want to.

"Show me how to kiss you," he says.

"It takes practice." Kissing a new partner's mouth usually starts out clumsy and uncoordinated, until you find each other's rhythm.

"We have until morning," he says.

It is, indeed, uncoordinated at first. He's obviously got the general idea--you can't spend 40-something years in this galaxy without seeing what people do--but no idea how to actually do it. He's a quick learner, though, echoing back your movements until he's got the hang of it. And then that precision kicks in and he's got your mouth trapped beneath his, tongue at the corner of your lips and then gently opening you up to his warmth, and you're the one who's forgetting how to breathe.

It's new to him and it's been a while for you, and the two of you end up making out like teenagers for a while, his hand against your jaw and your fingers in his hair, and when you need to catch your breath you bury your head in his shoulder until gently insistent hands lift your face to his again.

What stops you is a small sound from the child. You might not even have noticed it, coming from behind the metal door, but he's already turning his head to listen. He kisses your forehead before getting up to trigger the controls.

The noises from the hammock sound like sobs.

"Hey," the man tells him, sitting on the edge of the mattress, leaning in to lay a hand over the little body. "Whatever it is, I'm here." He turns to you. "He cries in his sleep sometimes. Usually I sing to him."

"Then you should." You get up to go sit beside him on the floor and lean your head against his knee. It's the same lullaby you heard that first night on board the Razor Crest. He can barely carry a tune but that's all right, you don't know the melody anyway and you don't understand the words. You stay there for a while even after the child's cries have stopped, as he continues through a half-dozen verses, you resting against him and his hand against your hair.

More of the evening disappears into figuring out his body, into his hands finding confidence in how to touch your skin.

The last time someone touched you with such reverence, you were probably sixteen years old, trying new things for the first time with a boy you'd grown up with, whose body you'd seen change as you both slipped toward adulthood. He's long gone, that boy, not even buried, just lost in the ash that used to be your home.

Your shirt's off now, too, and he folded it for you, and you can't even explain why that makes you ache inside.

He's tracing your breasts with his fingertips, light against your skin but following every curve. He seems to know, by instinct maybe, to leave your nipples until they're aching for him to touch, and then to follow his fingers with his mouth, with his tongue and then lips and then, so very gently, with his teeth. He's got you panting, your fingers digging hard into his shoulder until you suddenly realize that's the side that was bothering him and you drop your hand.

He looks up at you, and it takes him a minute to find words. "What's wrong?"

You're slow to make sense, too. "You--you're hurt, I don't want to--"

He looks down at his own shoulder, the one you were working on together this morning. Then he's pulling you in to him, so very slow again and careful, until you're skin to skin against his body, your breasts pressed up against the muscle of his chest, his head bent down to yours. "Thank you," he says, and it's a whisper against your temple and then just the two of you breathing together for a while, the hum off the ship's engines the only other sound.

You know the shapes of the muscles on his back now. You've run your fingers along the grooves between them. You know now how his skin feels different over scars, and how the burn scar at his neck is different from the knife scar on his side.

You were surprised to find the small, circular bump of a contraceptive implant on his arm, and at first you looked at him in accusation. From what he’s told you, he shouldn’t have needed it. But he just shrugged. "When I swore the Creed," he said, "I swore I would care for any child I made. I've never been in a place to be able to care for a child." You could feel your eyebrows go up as you nodded toward his bunk, where the tiny being in his care was sleeping. "I'm still not," he said. "It seemed like a good idea, to make sure it couldn't happen."

He knows the most sensitive spot on your neck by now, and he knows the way you'll move your head if he kisses you there. He knows that if he runs his hands over your belly you'll jump at first, ticklish, but then lean into his touch if he uses a little more pressure. He's figured out what happens if he traces the shell of your ear with his tongue.

Right now you're kneeling behind him, one hand on his chest, one finger sliding over a stiffened nipple while the other hand traces the hair that trails down his abdomen to the waistband of his trousers. For the first time, you slide your fingertips beneath the fabric. His hand comes up to wrap around your wrist and hold your arm still.

But he doesn't tell you to stop.

You tuck your chin over his shoulder and ask him if you should.

He doesn't answer. He's sitting up straighter, though, that uncomfortable posture you'd started to hope he'd left behind.

Carefully, you move your hands from his body, and his fingers slide from your wrist as you do. You shift around to face him.

Slow. You promised him slow.

Your own body is edging toward impatience. You've been wet for him for hours and, although you're not complaining about any of this so far, there's a sense of emptiness that your body is letting you know, in no uncertain terms, it would like him to fill.

You check in before you move next, get his permission to settle yourself back on his lap, knees to either side of his hips. It lets you press against the length of him through his trousers, and you find you're shivering as the most sensitive part of you connects there.

His voice is a vibration through your own chest as he says, "I can't."

You know you should let go, move back, but your muscles won't listen to your brain until he speaks again, until ingrained reflex takes over when he says the word "Stop."

He's keeping his hands to himself now, still breathing a little hard but keeping his body constrained. One hand clenches and then slowly opens, coming to rest at his side.

"If we keep going," he says, "I'm going to want you to stay."

Your heart skips for a second, and you're already thinking, yes.

"I can't let you stay." He's sitting so still. His fingers move again, what seems to be an involuntary tic. It's his right hand, the one that would reach for the blaster that's usually at his hip.

"I can't be distracted. If I had to choose between you and the child--"

He doesn't finish. You don't need him to. You reach over, slowly, slowly, and take his right hand. Slowly, you help him open those clenched fingers, and you place a kiss on his palm. "No promises," you remind him. And then, because there's nothing else you can say: "I'm leaving at Pavotha."

It's still so curious, getting to see his face. How sometimes his expressions are open and sometimes they're unreadable, like in all those years with the helmet on he's lost the ability to mirror certain feelings. Lost the muscle memory.

Right now, though, there's no mistaking that you're looking at pure gratitude.

"Do you still want to stop?" you ask him, and you're asking a little bit for him, but it's mostly because your body is longing to see the rest of his, to touch him in new places. To settle in against him, take his cock inside you, and move together until the rest of the galaxy disappears.

"No promises?" he says.

And, although your whole body is screaming at you not to say it, you tell him again: "Only that I'm leaving."

If you were planetside, it would be dawn by now. But here in the dimly lit hold, there's only the chrono to tell you it's near morning.

You're not looking at it though.

You're sitting on his lap again, legs around his waist and feet planted against the floor. His hands are on your hips. You showed him how this position works and now he's helping you move, bringing you down against him so his cock is buried deep inside you, holding you so there's pressure against your clit as he presses closer, then lifting your body so the length of him slides against your opening, setting every nerve on fire. You didn't teach him to pause sometimes, keeping your hips in place against him, and lean up to kiss you. He figured that out on his own.

He lasted longer than you might have expected the first time, when you drew his body over you and slow disappeared when he said "Are you sure?" and you said "Yes." And although you guided him in gently, carefully, neither one of you could stop after that. You bit your own lip so hard, trying not to cry out and wake the child, that there was blood on both your faces by the end.

You're going to have to sleep soon, before the child wakes up and the new day starts. But for now you're going to stay like this, your skin slicked with your sweat and his, the taste of him in your mouth, and the sacredness of trust between you.

#the mandalorian #fanfic #din djarin x reader #din djarin needs a hug #touch-starved din djarin #reader character also needs a hug.

12 notes · View notes

overheardatthecontinental · 3 years

Text

Worst Fears and Dreams Come True

Originally posted on tumblr over a year ago, I finally got around to uploading to AO3.

AO3 Link

She was always stunning, John thought, watching as Helen kicked off her shoes. But there was something damn special about the way she lit up with her feet in the sand and the sun shining on her face. She glowed.

And it didn’t hurt that her sundress was cut high on her thighs or that the sleeve that slipped alluringly off her shoulder. Her dark hair twisted in the wind as John watched her from the deck of the cottage.

It was surreal. She was surreal.

He didn’t date. He didn’t do relationships or have one night stands with strangers. And he didn’t have any real friends, let alone ones with benefits. And he had never intended on it.

But Helen Kingston had captivated him from the moment he laid eyes on her. It wasn’t just that she was beautiful. John knew plenty of beautiful women. No, Helen Kingston was so much more than beautiful. It was her kindness that had piqued his interest and her genuine heart that had fucked with his head over and over.

He didn’t deserve her.

But there she was: dipping her toes into the water while he watched, sipping at his morning coffee.

It had only been two months but those two months had more meaning than the rest of his miserable life combined.

She turns back to look at the house, pushing her hair back over her shoulder.

Helen smiles up at John and crooks her finger.

How can he resist?

John sets down the coffee and walks down the steps to the beach. It was official. He was going to buy the damn cottage. It wasn’t for sale but that didn’t matter. He would call the man who was renting it and make an offer. It wouldn’t be turned down.

Anything to keep that smile on her face. She looked so relaxed, far away from work, far away from the city. She would never quit her job. She did too much good but he wouldn’t stop reminding her that the world was hers.

He crosses the beach down to the water in suit pants and a crisp white button down. He only had suits and clothes for working out. Helen teased him about it sometimes but, truthfully, John had never had the need for something casual before. He had never really been shopping outside of a tailor. Helen would love it, though. Taking him to the mall, finding sweaters and casual shirts for him to relax in. That was enough to make John almost want to interact with people.

“Hey you.” She says as he approaches, a small smile on her face.

John says nothing, stalking toward her in a way that had her licking her lips.

He reaches for her face and kisses her softly yet soundly. The waves crash on the shore, the wind stirring up the sand and their hair but nothing is as loud as his own heart beating.

Helen nips at his lower lip as he pulls away. "I love you."

"I love you too." John says, still in awe that the words flow so easily off his tongue. There is no one like her. "Here is the plan."

"What's the plan?" She rests her head on his chest, staring out at the sea. The sailboats on the horizon cut easily through the waters.

"You're going to quit your job."

"Am I?"

"You are." He can feel her smile. "I'm going to leave mine and you and I are going to run away."

She hums, "where to?"

"Somewhere warm. Thailand. Belize. Somewhere with white sand, clear blue waters. We'll burn all your clothes and you can live in a bikini."

Helen snorts, "oh no."

"Oh yes." John presses a kiss to the top of her head, "We'll get a quiet, private residence and no one will find us. We'll spend every day on the beach. We'll read and relax and make love."

"Just us."

"Just us. Forever."

Helen looks up, "That sounds wonderful."

It really did, John thought. But near impossible.

Helen stepped back and out of his arms, hand gliding down so that she can link their fingers together. "In the meantime, we have right now."

"That we do." John agrees, stepping with her as she starts to traverse across the beach.

She is so serene. The calm in his storm.

Helen Kingston- she is good and kind and pure and makes him want to be a better person. It's too late for redemption and he knows that, but she has accepted him with all his flaws. Her hand was intertwined with his despite knowing what he did with those hands when she was away. She slept in his arms every night. The monster wasn't under her bed… he was in it.

"You know I would never quit my job." Helen says conversationally.

"I know." It was part of what he loved about her- the dedication to the kids she worked with.

"Days like today make me want to."

John stops, spinning her in front of him so he can hold both her hands, facing her.

"Move in with me." Its neither an order nor a question. He's not sure what it is but it feels like a plea.

She smiles softly, "it's been two months, John. What happens when you get tired of me?"

"Never going to happen. If anything, this is insurance that you won't leave me."

She reaches up and runs a hand down his beard. "Why are you so sure I'm going to leave you?"

John feels unnaturally heavy. His stomach and heart sink because, damn him, he is not enough.

"Because you're smart. You're going to figure out that I'm no good. That you can do better."

"I don't want good. And I don't want better, John. I just want you."

Her eyes narrow suddenly, her lips parting and she starts to shout, “John, get--!”

Suddenly she is launched forward, crashing into him. Behind her, far from the shore, is a boat. A sniper rifle peaks out from the side and John throws both himself and Helen to the ground, rolling on top of her to cover her body with his.

Her eyes are wide, breathing frantic. A quick look down reveals his worst fear. Dark red blooms from her abdomen, staining her dress.

"Hey, hey," John places his hands on either side of her face as another shot fires just over their heads, "stay with me, baby!"

He is unarmed, save a small knife. They are sitting ducks in the sand and he can feel her blood soak through his shirt.

He takes her hands and places them over the wound, "keep pressure, okay? I'm going to get you out of here."

She nods shakily, her eyes so trusting even as her face contorts in pain. His arms wrap around her and he moves to his feet, swinging her up while still shielding her with his body.

The adrenaline is pumping through his system. He'd been in a thousand fights before but nothing had ever filled him with terror as moving across the beach, trying to run off center but still as quickly as possible to the cover of the brush.

He hears a motor and it sounds like the boat is driving away but he can't look. He can't risk slowing yet.

He jumps down into the brush, laying Helen behind a log within the reeds.

Looking up, the boat has disappeared. But that didn't guarantee they were alone.

The shot went through her abdomen. He rips his shirt off, not giving a damn about the buttons that fly in every direction as he rolls it and pushes it against her wound.

Her head lolls back. "Come on, Helen. Stay with me!"

John reaches into his pocket for his phone. He's never called 911 before. He's never needed to but he can't wait for the doc to drive from New York.

"911, what's your emergency?"

"Woman shot. It went through her abdomen. It was some kind of rifle, a few hundred feet out." He rattles off the address.

"J-John?" Helen's face is layered with sweat.

"I'm here, baby."

"Is the shooter still out there?" The operator asks.

"No. They rode off."

"The ambulance is on its way and police have been dispatched."

He does wait for her to finish, hanging up the call and dropping the phone to the ground.

"I'm cold." Helen whispers.

"I know, baby, I know. Help is coming."

"Always hurt this bad?" She says through grit teeth. "How do you do it?"

"Oh you know…" John keeps the pressure on the wound, trying not to let the fear in his heart reach his face. "Practice, practice, practice."

She tries to smile but the pain is overwhelming. Her eyes start to close.

"No, no, no. Helen!" He says her name sharply and her eyes open. "I need you to stay with me."

"Want to sleep." It's almost a sob and John fights the urge to match her.

"I know. But you gotta stay awake, baby. Gotta stay with me until help gets here."

Where were the damn sirens?

"Trying…" He sees her hands shaking on either side of her. The color has drained of her face and he doesn't know what to do.

"Tell me something."

"What?"

"Anything." She needs to stay conscious. "Tell me anything. Something you've never told me."

Helen nods and exhales shakily, "Okay. I fucking hate your convertible."

John blinks in surprise. Of all the things she could say… say wasn't exactly news but she had never admitted to it aloud.

"It's not safe. It's too flashy."

"What else?" He asks, a smile on his face.

" Its grossly cramped and there's no back seat to fuck in."

"Make you a deal. I'll get a new car if you let me buy you one too."

"John," she whimpers but keeps a brave face despite the pain, "I was just shot. This is coercion."

"That Chevrolet is going to fall apart on you."

"Be nice. Chevy is the great American car."

Her eyes start to flicker and John pats her cheek, "stay with me, Hel. I’ll buy you whatever shitty car you want.”

Her eyes close and John slaps her just a bit harder, heart clenching as he did.

"Bitch." She mutters, eyes opening as she trembled.

He could hear the sirens now. They were getting louder by the instant

"Come on, tell me something else."

"What you want to know?"

"Something new. Something I wouldn't guess this time."

She nods, "if I live,"

"You will."

She had to. There was no other alternative.

"I'm going to marry the fuck out of you, John Wick."

The last thing she saw, as the world went dark, was John's face agape in shock.

Helen had been rushed from the ambulance into surgery and John's only assurance had come from a paramedic promising him that the doctors would do all that they could. His hands shake. John couldn't remember a time in his life where his hands had shaken.

His stomach turns and it takes all his self-control not to lose the contents of his stomach in the nearby trash can.

He takes his cell out from his pocket. It is stained with her blood. Trying to ignore the way it feels under his fingertips, he dials a familiar pattern.

The ringing stops as the receiver is picked up. Before they can speak, John says, "Helen was shot."

Silence.

"Is she alive?" Marcus asks finally.

"In surgery."

More silence.

Marcus had told him, had warned him. John hadn't listened.

"Where was she shot?"

"Abdomen." He leans back in the chair, "it was meant for me."

"Well, I doubt anyone would go to shoot Helen for the fun of it."

John ignores the stinging remark. “I’m at the hospital now. Can you find out if anyone has a hit on me? I need to know where it’s coming from and I need to know who has been hired.”

“It isn’t open. I would have heard if it was. But I’ll head to the Continental. See if I can find out anything.” There is a moment of silence, “Aside from me, does anyone know about Helen? Winston? The Concierge or the Executor?”

“The Executor but he hasn’t met her.”

"Of course. You know, depending on who they sent, its very possible that half of the underworld knows about Helen by now."

Fuck, he wanted to vomit.

He had tried so hard to protect her. To keep her secret from his world. Marcus was right. He should have known better.

"Please, just do what you can."

"Just focus on her. I’ll take care of everything on this end.”

And Marcus is gone, the line dropped.

John sits down in a chair and watches the clock tick on and on.

She'll live, the doctor tells him and John breaths again. His heart stutters in relief as he receives the rundown of her procedure.

He barely listens, "I need to see her."

"Of course. She is, still, unconscious but I can take you back."

John nods and follows back to the recovery room. She is still pale but her vitals look good. He caresses her face lightly, her earlier words still echoing in his head.

His beautiful, crazy girl was lying in a hospital bed because his enemies found them.

He hadn’t protected her and she had taken a bullet meant for him.

Gladly, John would have taken it if it meant she did not lay in front of him.

John reaches for her hand. It is limp but warm and he holds it between his. Marcus had been right. There was no way to pull Helen into their world and still keep her safe. But he could not let her go, even if he wanted to.

Helen startles awake and blinks in the sharp white light of the hospital room.

“It’s okay. It’s okay.” John’s voice soothes, hand tightening in her own while his other reaches up and rests on her forehead. “You’re okay.”

She blinks again, “Hospital?”

“Yes.”

“Cool.”

John lets himself laugh, softly. His heart still heavy with the thought he came so close to losing her. But she was there. In front of him. Alive.

Helen looks him over. “Are you okay?”

“I think I’m supposed to be asking that question.”

Helen stays quiet, looking at him seriously.

“I’ve never been so afraid in my life.” He confesses, his hand sweeping back into her hair. “God, Helen…”

“I’m okay.” She whispers, squeezing his hand in hers. “I’m here.”

John releases the support on the bed and moves to sit on the edge, beside her. “Why didn’t you duck? Why didn’t you move when you saw the target?”

“It would have hit you.”

“One more wouldn’t have killed me.”

“It might’ve.”

“It might’ve killed you!” Did she not understand? He couldn’t yell at her, not while she was in a hospital bed but she had to understand. “My life doesn’t matter. I will gladly take a thousand bullets if it keeps you safe.”

“Your life matters to me, John.”

She had said ‘I love you’ fairly early on. He believed her every time she said it. He knew she cared, he knew he mattered but there was no one else who cared for him or about him as she did. All his faults lay at her feet and rather than step on him, she had knelt down and held him.

Nothing scared him more.

Except perhaps the words she had said in what very well could have been her last sentiment.

“It’s not worth yours.” He says finally, “If something happened to you, what would I be? You blow into my life and I don’t recognize the man I was two months ago. I don’t want to think about how empty I was before I found you. Before you, I was just a shell. What would you expect me to become if you died?”

Helen reaches up, her eyes so soft and open and so not like anything he was used to. She runs her hair up his beard and around back to his hair. “I would expect you to be the man I fell in love with.” She pulls his head and John obliges, bending forward to kiss her softly. Her lips are chapped from the anesthesia but neither care.

Only hours ago, he didn’t know if he would ever be able to kiss her again.

“I love you.” She says quietly, whispering against his lips. There’s a pause as Helen pulls back, just far enough to look at him. “And I meant what I said on the beach.”

John swallows, not meeting her eyes. “I can get a new car.”

“After that.”

He feels his lips twitch up softly, “The part about me being a bitch?”

“After that.” Helen smiles at him, “Although I won’t dispute that you’re a bitch sometimes.” She wraps her arm around his neck, wincing slightly at the way her body stretches, “When I get out of here, I am going to marry you, John Wick.”

John feels his hands shake. He’s not sure they’ve done that before. “Aren’t I supposed to ask you that?

“Our relationship is built off of me telling you what to do.” Helen flashes him a smile, “Besides, you were taking too long.”

“I have it on good authority you aren’t supposed to propose marriage after two months.”

“Nor are you supposed to propose moving in together but you did that this morning.”

“You still have an out, moving in with me. Once we’re married, you’re stuck with me forever.” And damn him, he’s considering it. She’s already dragged into his world. The wound in her stomach is proof enough of that but to put his ring on her finger, to put his name at the end of hers? “I won’t let you go.”

“I think I’ve established that I’m serious about you,” Helen tells him, eyes flicking down to her abdomen. “I have no intention of going anywhere. Aside from the courthouse.”

“You have to move in with me.” John feels a smile creep onto his face as he strokes her face.

“A given.”

“And I’m buying you a new car.”

Helen rolls her eyes, “Fine.”

“And a beach house.” It might be his best and only opportunity to negotiate.

“Now you’re pushing it.”

John surges forward and kisses her again. She’s here, in his arms. And she is going to be okay. Marcus had told him he was going to take care of it and John was going to let him. He had more important things to attend to, starting with his fiancée.

#john wick #john wick x helen #helen x john wick #john x helen wick #marcus (john wick)#overheard at the continental #the matrix has queue #john wick fanfic #john wick fanfiction

10 notes · View notes

bangtan-madi · 4 years

Text

546 Days Without You — Nine: Day 264

Pairing — Seokjin x Reader

Tags — boyfriend!Seokjin, older brother!Yoongi, producer/songwriter!MC, military au (ish), idol au (ish)

Genre — fluff, angst

Word Count — 2.3k

Summary — Kim Seokjin is your entire world, and that world falls apart the moment he and your older brother Yoongi are conscripted into the South Korean military.

Part — 9 / 15

Warnings — minor language

A/N — Taglist is open! Comment or submit an ask if you want to be added :) Also sorry for the late post. Tumblr has been giving me issues.

Previous — Next

The day the album drops, the group is on edge the whole morning. It's been this way every comeback. The members are progressively moodier until the morning of, then they become eerily quiet.

The second the clock ticks past the release date, there's a group sigh of relief. Map of the Soul: Dream is out in the world, and people are streaming it by the millions. No more writing, no more recording, no more producing: the brainchild of Bangtan is out.

Finally.

The hour after the release, the interviews begin. The band is scheduled for events from the initial release panel in Seoul all the way to interviews across the world. The next few weeks are going to be packed with speaking engagements and travel. Normally, this is where you let the managers take over since it's not common for producers to travel for these kinds of things. On any other album, you'd wave to them as they left for the airport and scurry back to the safety and familiarity of the studio.

But you just had to have your name put on the album.

"Oh, no," Namjoon says, grasping the hood of your sweatshirt as you attempt to do just that. "Don't think you're getting out of this panel."

Turning towards the leader with a scowl, you retort, "I'm not a member, Joon. This isn't where I'm supposed to be. This is your guys' time to shine. I belong in a studio."

He shakes his head adamantly. "Your name's on the album, several times I might add. Writer, producer, and artist. They may have looked over the writing and producing rolls in the past, but now?"

"Not gonna happen," Taehyung snickers as he makes his way towards the Big Hit dressing room.

"I think people are more intrigued by you then they are by us," Jimin agrees, coming out of the hair and makeup room looking picture-perfect. "This is year eight for us. You're something new in the mix."

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "The media likes anything new and shiny."

"I heard you talking to Seokjin about this yesterday," Namjoon replies. "What did he say?"

Narrowing your eyes, you pull your hood out of his grasp with a pout. "He said I should do it."

This only causes Namjoon to smirk, knowing he's got you. He cups a hand next to his ear and leans down, as if trying to hear you. "I'm sorry, I didn't quite catch that?"

Instead of dignifying his teasing with a response, you shove the leader a bit, earning a laugh from the gentle giant. "They'll get to see me on tour. Why isn't that enough?"

"Y'know, I like her point," Jungkook grins adjusting the tie around his neck. He, too, has been primed and ready for the panel. "We can just go straight to tour and skip all this."

Hoseok enters the room, followed closely by Manager Sejin. The two men are also ready for the day's events, and you realize you're not getting out of this.

"For what it's worth, these things are really fun if you ignore the cameras and pushy paps," he says, playfully linking his arm with yours. Smiling brightly at you, he turns and escorts you towards the dressing room, much to the awe and surprise of the others. "And that's why we have security: to keep those away. This is as much part of tour as actually performing."

Once out of earshot of the others, you turn to Hoseok and mumble, "Yeah...I guess I'm just a little nervous. I remember how the press treated you boys when you first debuted. It was less than kind."

"You're tough as nails, [Y/n]. You Mins are another breed altogether. Trust me, if Jimin can do it, you can, too."

"I heard that!"

Hoseok giggles and gestures towards the dressing room, where the stylist has picked out a few options for outfits. They're all pretty, and go perfectly with the boys' album-themed attire.

"You got this," he states, letting you go and giving you two, big thumbs up.

You sarcastically mirror both his expression and gestures. "I hope so!"

Once everyone is dressed to the nines and dolled up, you're escorted to a Big Hit vehicle and sent on your way to the panel. This is far from the first time that BTS as a group has done something like this. In fact, you've attended once before, for the Map of the Soul: Persona release. It was inside one of the largest conference halls in downtown Seoul, and the seats were packed with photographers, journalists, interviewers, and even Army. Everyone was ecstatic about the release, and you can feel that same energy in the air today, despite being two members short.

As the group piles in the building, you feel Jimin and Taehyung take both of your hands. Your best friend and oldest friends are the first to notice how out of place you feel. The lights, the cameras, the crowds; it's not that you're not used to them, but they've never been focused on you before.

"You got this," Jimin murmurs, pressing a quick kiss to your cheek before he leads the trio through the auditorium doors.

From backstage, you can easily see the ramp that leads to the stage, and the setup in the center. The backdrop is a large, lavender canvas, covered in a larger version of the white outline of the plum blossom album art for 'Dream.' The host of the panel is a well-known personality in the k-pop industry, and as he makes his introductions of the event to those gathered in the seats, you attempt to calm yourself by taking deep breaths.

In your pocket, your phone buzzes twice. Pulling it out, you swipe across the screen, seeing two texts from Seokjin.

"I know you're nervous, but just take those deep breaths like I told you. Hold it in, and then slowly let it out. Seven seconds in, hold, and out. And trust the boys. They won't let anyone ask you questions that are inappropriate or rude. They have your back, Jagiya." The second says, "You got this. I believe in you. If I can do it, you're going to knock it out of the park."

A relieved smile slips onto your face, and you shoulders relax as you text a swift, grateful reply. As you hit send, Jimin reaches once more for your hand and tugs you towards the stage.

"Time to shine," he says with a grin. "Are you good?"

You give a single, assured nod and walk proudly behind him onto the stage. The lights and sounds drown out into a single, mute note as you find yourself being guided to a seat between Hoseok and Jungkook, near the edge of the panel. You're farthest from Namjoon, for which you're grateful in a way; as the leader of the group, he ends up doing most of the talking. Physically distancing yourself from him might be the best idea to keep you from having to speak for the group.

Once the basic introductions are made, even though everyone already knows who everyone else is, the questions from the host begin. The first few are easy questions about the album itself, the making and inspiration and work that went into it. He asks about everyone's roles and the sub units, as well as how they've handled the comeback for the last installment of Map of the Soul. The boys, mostly Namjoon, answer in their usual fashion, both elegant and truthful in their dialogue.

Then, the inevitable questions start to slip in.

"How has it been preparing for an album and tour without two of your most senior members?"

"We'd be lying if we said it's been easy," Namjoon chuckles, trying to answer the host in the most graceful way possible. "Suga and Jin did a lot of work on 'Dream' before they left to do their service, so we still feel as if they're with us, in a way. Jin has his solo track on the album, and it's one he recorded before he left. Suga did much of the songwriting and producing, per usual. But it has been hard. It's been a struggle for all of us to adjust without them, especially when preparing for the tour."

The host nods to you next, and you feel your stomach drop. "But it seems you're not completely rid of a Min family influence. Ms. Min [Y/n], how has it been working with BTS so closely on this project?"

Namjoon gives a small nod of reassurance as you lean forward to speak into the microphone in front of you. "Well...I actually have always worked as a producer on BTS' albums, so this one wasn't so different."

"But this time you're featured on the album as well, is that right?"

Swallowing dryly, you shake your head in agreement. Hoseok places a calming hand on your knee under the table, and you force yourself to take a deep breath in like Seokjin instructed.

"Yes, I am."

"What brought that about?"

"Well, I had released my track 'Silhouette' on Soundcloud a little bit before, and it had gained a lot of traction amongst Armys. When it came time to decide the final track lineup for 'Dream,' Bang Si-hyuk-nim brought up the idea to include it." You nod down towards Namjoon with a smile. "RM thought it was a great idea, and while I didn't agree at first, eventually I came around. The story 'Silhouette' tells fits in perfectly with the narrative in 'Dream.' We added the track, and the rest is history."

The host nods, listening to your answer intently. "So does this make you the eighth member of BTS, or a stand-in for your brother?"

While trying to remain respectful, you can't help but laugh at the question. "Not even close. Everyone knows that there's only one Suga, only one Min Yoongi, and no one will ever come close to replacing my brother. I'm not trying to become the eighth member of BTS, nor am I trying to replace Suga or Jin. I'm a new artist that's being featured on the next album, just like any previous collaboration. The only difference here is that I happen to be related to one of the members. Those artists...they're one-of-a-kind. If I'm a stand-in for either of them, I'd probably fire myself for doing such a sh—sloppy job."

Your last comment earns a chuckle from the host, as well as the audience behind him. "I see you're quite a lot like your brother in many ways, so it's comforting to know that the band still has a Min on their side, even while Suga and Jin are away at service."

Jimin leans forward to speak into his mic, turning his head so he can flash a wink in your direction. "Yeah, she's been like glue for us this past year."

"We're glad to have her on board," Namjoon agrees. "And both Jin and Suga approved all of this, both before and after they left, so there's that extra bit of encouragement."

"So will we expect to see you on the Dream Tour?" Both the host and the rest of the audience go silent, waited with bated breath for your response.

Flashing a small smile, you attempt to hide your nerves when you reply, "You'll see me in a little over a month at the opening in Seoul...and every stop after that."

After the remaining hour of the launch event is over, and the press starts to slip out of the auditorium, the members are escorted backstage to the changing rooms. The announcements being made, from now until Tour begins, the six of you are going to spend the majority of your time traveling for events. You've looked at the calendar and have seen the stops planned. Busan is next, then Tokyo, Nagoya, Hong Kong, Macau, Los Angeles, and New York City. You even recall seeing a handful of stops in Europe, Australia, and South America, as the fanbase has grown exponentially on those continents.

"That went perfectly," Sejin says as the members come off-stage. He nods to you with a proud expression. "You were amazing. All of you."

Jimin scurries over to you and wraps you in a tight hug. "I knew you could do it," he murmurs against your shoulder. "Proud of you, [Y/n]-ah."

Your heart swells at their reassurance, and you pat Jimin's shoulder as a silent thank you. "How can you be sweaty after two hours of sitting?" you tease, shoving him off you.

The blonde scoffs, feigning a hurt expression. "Those lights are bright! And I'm wearing Gucci!"

"Does money make you perspire?"

"Go get changed," Hoseok laughs, separating you two like a mother with her children. "We need to get on to Busan, and tomorrow we fly to Nagoya!"

"Ahhh, now I really miss Jin-hyung and his amazing Japanese skills," Taehyung groans. "I should've practiced more."

The group laughs at his self-inflicted banter and begins the process of changing into travel clothes for the short trip across South Korea.

"How are we getting to Busan?" you ask.

"Can we vote?" Jungkook asks, raising his hand dramatically. "'Cause I vote train."

Sejin shakes his head. "We have a jet already reserved."

The youngest member extends his hand towards the manager, eyes intent and fist closed. "Rock-paper-scissors for it?"

Though amused, Sejin merely points to the dressing room. "Get changed, Jungkookie."

"But—" All Sejin has to do is look directly at the brunet, cock an eyebrow, and cross his arms, and the maknae is grinning apologetically and running for the dressing room. "Plane it is!"

Taglist — @joyful-jimin, @gracehiii, @live-2-fangirl, @rjsmochii, @btsnatalena

48 notes · View notes

luxexhomines · 4 years

Text

married as...?

As I mentioned, I’ll be posting some of my Obey Me! fanfiction here from now on! Feel free to block the tags #obey me or #obey me shall we date if it bothers you. I’ve posted these on AO3, too, but thought that the audience might be slightly different, so I’m putting it on Tumblr, too. It’ll be under the cut so I don’t clog up your dash. If you’re interested in seeing my other works, click here, but be forewarned of NSFW and problematic content. I will post the non-problematic fics on Tumblr later if you’d like to just wait for them here. I also link my works on Twitter when I post them on AO3 if you’d like to hang around there instead @\luxexhomines ! I retweet a lot of art & Obey Me content, sometimes show sneak peeks of WIPs & crappy doodles.

Click here for the AO3 link if you’d like to read there.

Summary: You're woken up in the middle of the night by Leviathan, who has something very important to ask you. What could it be? Note: this was inspired by this Twitter thread and dedicated to the person who made the meme~ ♡

There is a short excerpt at the start that shaped how I thought about, approached and hopefully can be felt from this work.

Every day is full of choices.

And every one of those days, I have chosen you.

From today onward, too, I will continue to choose you.

You’re woken abruptly by someone shaking you. You can faintly hear someone speaking and calling your name.

“...Hey…! Hey! Wake up. I need to ask you something!”

It was Levi’s voice, and it sounded urgent. You rub the sleep from your eyes and rollover. Your husband was in bed beside you, but he was sitting up, looking at you seriously. You cover your yawn with a hand.

“Mmm...what? What is it? Did you realize you forgot to go get in line for the newest The Magical, Mysterious Jane: Peony Phantom figure?”

You try to half sit up, propping yourself up on the pillow, and try to gauge his expression. He looked pretty worried. Even for him, this seemed a little more extreme than usual, although he did sometimes wake you up in the night to tell you he needed to go stand in line for new merchandise or a newly-released game.

He purses his lips, clearly put off as his eyebrows knit together.

“No, it’s not that! I wouldn’t be that worked up over that. I would just let you know and then go.”

You reach out and brush a piece of hair from his face, tucking it behind his ears, watching as his face reddens slightly, and you can’t help but smile. Even after all these years together, he still gets shy. You supposed it was just one of the things you loved about Levi, one of the things that made him Levi.

“Well, then, what is it?” You pause and your sleep-addled brain thinks back as you shift to sit cross-legged on the mattress. “Wait, you said you need to ask me something. What did you want to ask…” you glance at your D.D.D., “at 4:06 am?”

He sulks, his mouth twisting into his characteristic frown.

“This is important! I wouldn’t wake you up for nothing. Listen, I have to know…” he trails off, suddenly appearing timid. Levi’s orange eyes turn away from you now, lingering on some point on the covers of the bed.

“You have to know…?” you prompt.

His eyelashes flutter as he blinks rapidly.

“Um…” Levi turns his heated gaze onto you again and grips your shoulders forcefully. The look in his eyes is serious, almost grave, and his lips are pressed together tightly. He’s still got bedhead from being asleep, and some of his hair is sticking up. You hold yourself back from smoothing it down, seeing as he’s so serious.

“Levi…?”

You’re also starting to feel anxious, seeing the state that he’s in. But you never would have expected the next words out of his mouth.

“Do you like me?”

For a moment, you just gawk at him as your jaw drops open. You keep waiting for him to say that it was just a joke, but he looks completely sober and still doesn’t give. His eyes are wide and he looks so pitiful that he’s starting to remind you more of a puppy you picked up off the streets than the handsome demon you’d married. His hands slide off your shoulders dolefully.

You shut your mouth.

“...You’re serious.” When he nods, you resist the urge to facepalm. “Levi, I married you.”

Again, he’s frowning. You want to reach out and straighten that grumpy mouth into a smile, but you can’t help but think he’s still adorable, even when he’s not in the best of moods. He puts a hand to his mouth, the way he always does when he’s trying to hide how he feels, however unsuccessful those attempts may be.

“Yeah, but did you marry me as a friend, or as a significant other?”

You stifle a chuckle at first but can’t help bursting into laughter. Meanwhile, he’s staring at you like you’ve gone crazy as you hold your stomach, aching from your mirth.

“Pfft...Levi! I can’t believe you’re asking me this. And after we’ve been married for a few years already.”

Levi only looks more unhappy as his eyebrows furrow inward, glaring at you sharply.

“Well, it was unclear.”

Seeing how disheartened he is, you sober up and offer a soft smile.

“Levi, of course I married you as a significant other. I love you. I thought I already told you. Or at least, that you knew.”

He freezes, and red creeps onto his face. He hunches over slightly, pouting as he pins his gaze to the mattress.

“I, well… I thought maybe you’d meant it as friends. Since we’re true best friends.”

“Look at me, Levi.”

He does, raising his head, and you take the chance to cup his glowing cheeks and lean in, placing a sweet kiss on his lips, those lips that expressed so much, those lips that couldn’t lie.

When you pull back, you see that the redness on his cheeks has grown deeper a shade.

“Y-You should have warned me…! You know that I’m still not used to this…”

You laugh, thoroughly amused.

“Well, it served its purpose. Do true best friends kiss?” You put a hand to his cheek again and brush your thumb over his lips, faintly pink, pliant. “On the lips?”

You can feel the warmth of his body beneath your fingers as you caress his cheek, the softness of his skin, and your heart begins to race. Despite your teasing, you weren’t completely used to this either. And you felt like you might never be used to it- although, you were okay with that. You loved him.

Levi puts a hand to his neck, rubbing it. He’s still red. Of course he is.

“I mean, no, but… You and I are special, aren’t we? Even just as friends.”

His gaze is sincere and direct, full of the warmth you loved in him, and a hint of coolness in the tint of purple within. You’re smiling before you know it.

“Yeah, we are.” You lift his bangs and kiss him on the forehead firmly. “But you’re my true best friend and my significant other. There’s a difference. That’s why you asked, isn’t it?”

This time, he flushes a lovely fuschia, stammering his response.

“I-I told you to warn me, didn’t I…?” He drops his gaze and the corners of his lips turn down, but you can sense fondness within. “But yeah, you’re right. That’s why I asked.”

You give him a break from your touch and withdraw, although the sensation of his skin lingers on your fingers. One side of your mouth quirks upward as you raise your eyebrows.

“Do you need further proof? Or shall we go back to bed?”

Levi is still at first, but then he processes the implications of your words, and he flops back into the bed and under the covers rather quickly. He turns away from you, but you can still see the crimson hue on his ears.

“N-No…! I’m good, let’s go back to sleep!”

You settle back into the bed as well with a knowing smile.

“If you say so. I love you, Levi.” You reach over to his broad back and trace a heart on that warm canvas, although he immediately stiffens upon feeling your touch. “I’ll say it every day to remind you from now on since you still seem like you don’t believe me. Can you feel what I drew on your back?”

You trace the heart again, your finger running along the curves and muscles of his back. Levi relaxes slightly, letting go of his tension.

“...You don’t have to do that,” he whisper-mumbles, bashful. “I-Is that a heart?”

You rub his head, ruffling his hair.

“Yeah, good work.” You trace another shape on his back. “I don’t have to do anything, Levi. I want to. Because I love you.”

For a time, silence greets you, and you think he might have fallen asleep as you lazily trace the shape a few more times.

“Is it a star?”

You stop and rub his head again.

“Yeah! You’re good at this, aren’t you? Maybe you’ve got a sensitive back.”

His reply is barely audible.

“No, I’m just sensitive to your touch…”

You shift closer. Did you hear that right?

“What did you say?”

Even facing away from you, he brings his hands to his face, covering it shyly.

“Nothing! I didn’t say anything!”

You chuckle. At this distance, you can hear his heartbeat, quick and hard. You press a kiss to his upper back, right along his spine, slow but sure. You let your lips linger a moment longer than usual, firm and flush against him before you allow yourself to draw back.

“Do you know what I just did?” you murmur.

His heartbeat is accelerating, and his body is tense. There’s a pause. Only the rhythm of your hearts and the coming and going of your breaths accompany it.

“...I thought I told you to warn me,” is all he says, his voice unsteady. Then, uncertainly, “Did...was...is that a kiss?” His last few words are hesitant, quiet, wavering.

Another rub to the head for Leviathan, you think to yourself. Or at least, that’s what you’d planned on, but instead, he turns and catches your wrist mid-air. Those riveting orange eyes have captured yours in a heartbeat. They’re mere inches away.

“It’s not fair,” he grouses. “It’s my turn.”

Levi’s lips are on yours, and you barely even register the soft, loving warmth before it’s gone again, and you’re left in a daze as your eyes glaze over. He releases your wrist from his hold. Then, heat rushes to your own cheeks, and you put a hand to them to check- they were burning. Your eyes trail up to his again, and his candid gaze only makes your cheeks hotter. You tighten your lips and your eyebrows crease as you stare at him flusteredly.

“...Why didn’t you warn me…?”

He’s smug. A cocky smile stretches across his face.

“You didn’t warn me, so-mmph!”

You sealed those self-satisfied lips with your own once again, a hand draped over Levi’s back to pull him in closer. You’re still burning up, but you don’t care anymore. As long as you’re with him.

When you part from him, both of you are ruddy-cheeked, glowing.

“I love you, Leviathan.”

His eyes are soft now, warm like the golden liquid kindness of the afternoon sun, tender like the petals of orange carnations.

“I love you, too.”

11 notes · View notes

thisbitchinthecorner · 4 years

Text

1948 Day 16- Ice Storm

Much cliche! One bed trope! Wow! This is some serious fanfic troupe for @drawlight This one is also cheating a little because it’s based off a tumblr post I made a while ago. Lol, but it’s fun and cute and has Aziraphale making a whole scene!!

1948

At a lavish party that borderlines hedonistic, Aziraphale, not entirely oblivious to what is going on in the private salon rooms, is enjoying the conversations and refreshments. A strikingly tall gentleman with a cascade of auburn hair walks through the door, and immediately the whispers begin. The host, a renowned author, fawns all over himself as he introduces his newest obsession and inspiration for all his latest work.

“Anthony, my dark crow! Oh darling!” Mr. Forster swooned. “You have the most spectacular jaw line! All the better for...” He was interrupted by a rather irritated celestial being.

“What are you doing here?” Aziraphale asked boldly.

“I was invited, Angel.” Crowley pursed his lips as he shook off the fresh layer of snow that had accumulated on his jacket. “But I think the more important question is what are you doing here?” He raised his eyebrow at his heavenly counterpart.

“I was...also invited.” Aziraphale said, trying to sound formidable and important.

“So you two know each other then?” Mr. Forster cooed. “Oh! What are the odds? Come now, my lovely, let us mingle.” He linked his arm into Crowley’s and lead him away, leaving Aziraphale standing utterly alone.

After sometime, and more than a few drinks later, he spied Crowley in the library, staring out the large window, standing by himself. Put out by the display earlier, Aziraphale stormed out of the party to confront the demon.

“The snow is really coming down, looks as if it’s beginning to ice over.” Crowley attempted to make conversation, to which Aziraphale was having none of it.

“I hope you enjoyed your fraternizing!” Aziraphale sputtered, spilling his drink in the process. “I mean, honestly!”

“Aziraphale, your drunk. Perhaps you should go home.” Crowley said with genuine concern.

“Oh, so I should go home and leave you here do...God knows what with God knows who...whom...oh whatever, it doesn’t matter! You’re making a spectacle out of yourself.”

“What are you talking about angel? You’re the one who gets drunk at a sex party. I’m here by myself, in case you didn’t notice.”

“Well you left with HIM, and...” his voice begins to trail off. “And what choice did I have but to drink too much? I mean, you just so happen to be his new muse? You don’t even like contemporary writing.”

“I like contemporary writing because you like contemporary writing, you idiot. You told me that I should get into reading more, so I thought I would tempt some writers with lust. The sexy bits are more interesting to read anyway.”

“So that’s it then? You show up and flaunt your relationship!” Aziraphale sputtered, trying not to stare at how the light illuminated the demon’s fiery mane.

“Are you jealous that I tempted your lover away from you?” Crowley fired angrily.

“I’m not jealous and he’s not my lover..” Aziraphale’s cheeks grew flush. “And I hate that you show up here and leave me by myself to go...well to go to bed with him!” Tears filled his eyes, and he tried so desperately to conceal them.

“Aziraphale, there is nothing going between me and him. I mean, he makes advances, but I have no interest or desire. I’m here because I heard you would be, that’s all.”

“So you’re not having intimate relations with him?” Aziraphale asked hopefully.

“No! Angel, I don’t have intimate relations with anyone. It’s not my scene really.” Crowley scoffed, still attempting to remain collected.

“You don’t?” The cherub asked softly. “Have you ever?”

Crowley shook his head. “No. Not once. Happy now?”

Aziraphale fell silent, the awkward pause between them shifted.

“It’s alright angel,” Crowley sighed as he ran his hands through his long hair. “You’re drunk and I’ll take you home.”

“Leaving so soon, my dark crow?” Mr. Forster slurred, as he tried to wrap his arms around Crowley’s waist.

“Yes, and we’re leaving, together.” Aziraphale reached out and took the demon’s arm, and it was gladly accepted. “Thank you for the brilliant party, but it is time to say goodnight.”

“My little dove and dark crow? Leaving so soon and together? Well, what I wouldn’t give to tag along. I promise, I will play nice.” The host licked his lips longingly.

“Sorry, I don’t share.” Aziraphale chided, as leaned into Crowley’s arm for support.

“You don’t?” Crowley smirked, the angel just shook his head.

“Oh shut it.”

“From the looks of that ice, neither of you are going anywhere tonight.” Mr. Forster purred as he looked outside, noting the heavy, slick layer of glistening ice that had frozen to every surface. “But don’t you worry, my lovelies, I can accommodate you both for the night.”

Crowley edged closer to the angel, still holding his hand tightly. “Very well, I trust we will not be disturbed.”

“Oh fine! Be no fun then!” Mr. Forster grumbled as he showed the pair to a bedchamber away from the wing of the manner where the party was still in full swing.

“Here you go, my lovelies. Have fun.” Their host said with a wink as he opened the door.

“We will.” Crowley hissed and with a snap, the door slammed behind them. They stood in silence for a moment. “You can miracle yourself home, if you’d rather not stay.”

“I’m not leaving you here alone.” The angel said meekly, slowly realizing that he was still gripping the demon’s arm. He released it and watched as Crowley slinked around the room.

The electric lights began to flicker, dimming until they went out completely. “Foolish modern decadence.” Crowley cursed under his breath, with a snap of his fingers, the room is illuminated with the soft glow of candles. “Still drunk, angel?” The demon peered over his glasses.

“I’m not drunk, I’m tip-top!” Aziraphale announced, yet he was, in fact, still very intoxicated.

“Might as well get some rest. Go on, you take the bed. I’ll take...” The demon began.

“No no! It’s alright! You’re the one who sleeps. I’m more than fine just on the chair.”

“You don’t sleep?” Crowley asked as he snapped his fingers, his clothing had changed to fine silk pajamas, black with red trim, a small golden snake embroidered just to the right of his heart.

“It’s not that I don’t, I haven’t much use for it- I use that time to read.” The angel said as he cast his eye downward.

“Big sleep fan, me.” Crowley yawned and stretched out his arms, revealing his stomach to anyone who might have been stealing a peek. “You should try it.”

“Fair enough.” Aziraphale pulled his fingers down and was standing in a long, white gown complete with stocking cap.

Crowley rolled his eyes, yet was secretly delighted. “This bed is massive and there’s no sense trying to sleep in that...” He said as he gestured to the chair.

“Very well. But no funny business.” Aziraphale bit his lip.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.” Crowley shuttered.

Aziraphale made his way, in a most wobbly manner, towards the opposite end of the bed and climbed in, he shuffled under the sheets and laid helps head upon the pillows, he turned his body away from the demon. “Goodnight Crowley.” He said quietly.

“Night angel.” The demon answered.

“You know I haven’t either.” Aziraphale confessed softly. “I haven’t known anyone intimately before.”

“Not even that writer pal of yours? That wild fellow?”

“No. Although, many have tried, but,” he grew quiet

“What is it, angel?”

“It’s a sin, isn’t it? I mean, Heaven says that fornicating is going against God.”

“I don’t think it’s a sin. Seems more like an act of love than an act of evil. I don’t see what the big deal is.” Crowley muttered as he lay on his back.

“So, you would, I mean, hypothetically speaking, you would be intimate.”

“I could have countless times. It’s not the act itself, but it’s finding the right partner that has been the sticking point.”

“Oh.” Aziraphale felt his heart beat quicken. “Do you think you will ever find them? The right partner I mean.”

“Who’s to say I haven’t already. Perhaps it’s just not the right time.” Crowley murmured.

“Do you think it will ever be the right time?” The angel asked, his voice nearly breaking.

“I hope so. I’d very much like for that day to come, someday that is.”

“So would I.” Aziraphale whispered to himself. “So would I.” Perhaps it was the alcohol that was causing the room to spin, or perhaps it was something else entirely.

In the morning, the angel opened his eyes and caught a glimpse of the sunlight as it danced across the demon’s face. He fought to resist the urge to touch his hair, sweep the errant strand of copper that fell across his cheek.

As if sensing the angel was awake, Crowley opened his eyes and smiled. “Morning angel.” He turned and reached for his glasses. “Suppose the ice is melted enough for us to make our way home.” The demon stood up, and gave one last stretch. In an instant, he was impeccably dressed and remarkably styled. “You ready, or would you prefer to hang about?”

Not to be outdone, Aziraphale miracled his own posh outfit, complete with coiffed curls. “Ready when you are, my dear.”

Crowley held out his arm, gesturing the angel to proceed through the opened door. Before he left the room, he took a candle from the dresser and slipped it into his jacket pocket.

Their ride home was filled with witty banter and laughter as they made their way to London. The Bentley was parked out in front of the bookshop, as it had been more than a few times this century.

“Lovey evening, angel.” Crowley grinned.

“Oh! Come now.” Aziraphale said coyly, knowing that there had been a change in the space between them. He waved to the demon and slipped into his shop. He sighed as he removed his sleeping cap from inside his coat; holding it close to his chest. He smiled to himself. Someday indeed.

#31 days of ineffables #ineffable husbands #good omens #aziraphale #crowley #justenoughofabastardtobeworthknowing

19 notes · View notes

chipper9906 · 4 years

Text

The Best Laid Plans- Chapter 1: An Unwanted Visitor

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Rey, Ben Solo/Rey

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 4,168

Status: Multi Chapter Fic- In Progress

Summary: Based on a twitter post on a tumblr post, requesting an AU where Kylo and Rey have to fake fight in front of the First Order.

Preview: Kylo dipped his head with a deep, sad-sounding sigh, and for the first time since they last connected through the bond, she could see just how vulnerable he was. He slowly raised his head to lock eyes with her, and with just one look she could feel just how tired he was right now. Tired of their situation, perhaps. Tired of their constant squabbling, knowing that he’ll once again have to keep on guard, ready for whenever the Force decides it wanted to connect their minds once more

.“I don’t want to kill you,” Kylo spoke so softly, she nearly missed it. “Not since that night on Illum.”

And, for some reason, she believed him.

Link To Fic

Click below to keep reading

Chapter 1: The Unwanted Visitor

It had begun with an agreement.

An agreement that would never have been forged, if it wasn't for this... connection, that somehow existed between them.

Leia had been surprisingly understanding, at the time. Possibly one of the only ones that understood her reasoning, her sudden urge to isolate herself once more.

After all, she had spent most of her life alone. It was only natural that, in these times of panic and uncertainty, her reaction was to flee to the furthest reaches of the Galaxy.

Perhaps Leia could see it in her face when she had returned from the Supremacy. Or perhaps she sensed it, had known it somehow. Rey wouldn't put it past the General to know more than she lets on...

Rey's sure Leia could tell, the second she caught sight of her, that she would have to let her go. Let her find her own way through this mess. For if she didn't, there would be no doubt that Rey would one day be gone, with or without her permission. It's like they say, no animal is more dangerous than one that's been caged...

"There's something there... Something inside me, that knows this isn't the place to be." Rey had tried to explain to the General.

"...Within the resistance?" Leia had asked so timidly and, for the first time, that weary worried look she had seen in the older woman's eyes were directed at her.

"No! No, not as in with the resistance, but within, as in... I..." Rey shook her head as she let out a tired sigh, her explanation not coming out of her mouth quite as well as it had been in her head. "I still believe in this; In the mission, in the light, the Jedi, but... I just need some time to figure out where I belong amongst all of this."

For a moment, the General just looked up at her. Studied her, was more accurate. Her eyes scanned across Rey's face, searching deep for any bit of information she could find. With a somewhat painful jolt, Rey had recognized that same searching look on another's. Although his method of prying information had been a lot more... Unpleasant.

"You really feel like you need to do this, don't you?" Leia had asked softly.

"I do," Rey responded just as gently. "I really do."

"I just wish this was something you could do here. Surrounded by those that care about you. There's no better reminder of the light than that which exists amongst the people."

"I won't be gone forever." Rey had assured her. "This isn't like before. I know I have something to come back to. Friends to come back to."

"No," Leia said firmly, shaking her head at Rey's words. "Family. You have family to come back to."

Rey smiled at her words, the sentiment of them lighting a warmth within her chest.

"Thank you." She said with as much sincerity as she could.

"Don't thank me yet," Leia told her with a knowing smile. "We'll see how your tune changes when I have to tell every one of your plans. Trust me, your family is going to put up one hell of a fight about this."

And oh, how Leia had been right...

"I'm sorry?" Poe said, confusing Rey immensely by digging a finger vigorously into his ear. "I must have damaged my hearing in that last fight, because it almost sounded like you said you were willingly going to... Oh, where is that place again, Finn?"

Poe had turned to face Finn next to him, who stood ramrod straight with an equally stunned and, partly horrified, expression.

"Oh right, that's it!" Poe continued, snapping his fingers sharply. "That island on a planet in the middle of nowhere that barely anyone knows how to get to!"

While Poe's reaction had been a bit more... Wordy, Finns was... Well, a bit less...

"No."

"Finn..."

"Mm-hm" Finn had hummed low, shaking his head. "Nuh-uh. Nope."

Rey couldn't help but smile fondly at the memory of her closest friend's reaction. While it was awful to know he was under such distress, it was comforting to know that he genuinely cared about her, and that he didn't like the thought of her not being around. She supposed it was just nice to know she would be missed...

Ahch-To was just as refreshing as the first time she had stepped foot on the island. The lush grass under her feet was just as soft and vibrant as ever, happy with its access to the planets constant rotation of bright sunlight that shone down with a gentle warmth, and its restoring rainfall, that of which its chilly droplets pricked at her face as she climbed up the same, exhausting steep mountainous landscape of this beautiful place.

She hadn't been here long, before. Certainly not as long as she had lived in Jakku, and yet, coming back here felt a lot like... Coming home. A lot more than returning to Jakku ever would.

The island wasn't without its pains, however. Most particularly, had been of her master. The loss of his force signature seemed to leave a giant hole, one that seemed unrepairable. Even now, as she studies the Jedi texts that Master Luke had been working on, she finds herself standing, ready to go to his hut and ask for his advice, only to be hit with the painful reminder of his fate.

The island didn't just cause emotional problems, but physical ones, too. The biggest of which: Food. It wasn't like it was on the Resistance base, where she had begun to adjust to the idea that food was no longer something to be worried about. It was different now, now that her instinct for survival had kicked back in. Back on Jakku, the idea of looking for food was downright laughable. Not much lived to hunt in a scorching desert, and not much grew there either.

No, if Rey wanted to eat, she would have to search for something else. Something deemed much more valuable; Scrap Parts

Now, on this island, there was no middle man, nothing to trade for, and nothing for her to trade. If she wanted food, she would have to search for the food that the island could provide to her.

There was once such food source that was plentiful, living within an environment that covered most of this planet. An environment she was so very unfamiliar with... And as such, she was still rather unsure what to think of the odd creature that, not too long ago, had flailed its scaly tail weakly in an attempt to escape the spear that had pierced through its side.

Rey's face twisted in disgust as she slid a knife along the fish's belly, pulling the animals sides open and holding back a gag as she reached a hand in, grabbing hold of the deceased creature's insides and pulling them out, wincing at the wet slapping sound as they slipped off the carved stone table of her new hut and onto the rocky floor.

"I hope you taste better than you smell..." Rey murmured to herself as she worked, shoving her hands in once more.

"Would you believe me if I said it does?”

Rey's heart jumped into her throat at the voice, yanking her hand out of the fish's body so fast that it sent the animals corpse flying to the floor. Her bloodied hands reached for Luke's saber, cursing silently in her head when she remembered how it had been split in half in their previous fight. Mere seconds later, she's summoning her staff into her hands, whirling around to face an intruder she knows should not be here. Not when she had worked so tirelessly to block him out.

Kylo once again donned his mask, the one she had seen him without for so long now. Although, now, the helmet had vivid red lines streaking across its sleek black surface, bursts of crimson lightning surrounding his face. Even though she couldn’t see his face, she could just tell his eyes were trained on the staff she held in her hands.

“Are you going to kill me with that?” His robotic voice filtered through his mask as he nodded towards her weapon.

“If I have to.” Rey spat back in retaliation, wringing her hands around the worn surface of her staff’s handle. “What are you doing here?”

“You know as much as I do that I can’t control this,” Kylo answered. “The force seems to connect us whenever it desires.”

“But why now. Why after so many months of nothing.”

“I don’t know,” Kylo replied curtly, sounding like he hated the fact that he didn’t.

Rey narrowed her eyes suspiciously at his answer, ignoring the nagging feeling that surrounded her that she should be relaxed in his presence, fighting against her survival instincts to always be on guard and ready to fight against such an uncontrollable threat. She let her eyes scan across the blank and expressionless mask, knowing he was probably donning the same expression underneath.

“The mask is back to stay, then?” Rey asked, taking a cautious step back from him, comforted by the feeling of the stone hut against her back.

“I’ve found my people are more receptive to me when I have the mask.”

“You mean terrified of you?”

“Is there a difference?”

Rey didn’t respond to that, instead choosing to tighten her grip even further around her weapon.

Kylo watched her for a moment before he slowly reached up with his leather-clad hands, wrapping them around the sides of his helmet and pulling it up off his head with a hiss of air. He gave a slight flip of his hair as he pulled the helmet off, before lowering himself down on what Rey could only assume was either a seat or perhaps even his bed wherever he was.

“Could you put that down?” Kylo asked as his eyes flicked back up to her staff, his words now sounding a lot more kinder and human, now he was rid of his mask.

“And give you a chance to kill me when I’m defenseless?”

Kylo dipped his head with a deep, sad-sounding sigh, and for the first time since they last connected through the bond, she could see just how vulnerable he was. He slowly raised his head to lock eyes with her, and with just one look she could feel just how tired he was right now. Tired of their situation, perhaps. Tired of their constant squabbling, knowing that he’ll once again have to keep on guard, ready for whenever the Force decides it wanted to connect their minds once more.

“I don’t want to kill you,” Kylo spoke so softly, she nearly missed it. “Not since that night on Illum.”

And, for some reason, she believed him.

Not that she could let him know that.

“Am I supposed to take your word for that?”

Kylo’s tired face turned to a frown, his forehead creasing in annoyance at her words.

“All I ever wanted was for you to join me, to be by my side.” Kylo began his side of the argument. “If you’ll remember, I was the one that saved your life. And your way of thanks was to try and snatch my Uncles saber from my side while I was-“

Kylo suddenly stopped talking, his mouth snapping shut as his frown deepened even further at what he was about to say. His eyes continued to scan across her face as he thought of what to say, turning his head away with an annoyed huff when words seem to defy him.

“What was I supposed to do? Let you take the saber and cut me down?” Kylo continued to ask. “I acted in self-defense. Not that I would have done anything with the saber if I had won it back anyway-“

“Yeah, sure.” Rey interrupted with a half-amused, half disgusted snort. “Like how you wouldn’t have done anything once you caught sight of the Falcon on Crait?”

Kylo couldn’t help but wince, not only at the mention of his father’s ship, but of what Rey was implying.

“I wasn’t aware you were on it.” Kylo weakly tried defending himself. “I wasn’t exactly thinking straight in the moment.”

“I’m of the opinion you weren’t thinking at all.” Rey put her thoughts forward as she began to drop her staff to her side in a more relaxed position, perhaps against her better judgment.

The corner of Kylo’s lips curled ever so subtly and, for the briefest of moments, Rey wondered if she was about to get a smile out of him. The thought disappears as quickly as the beginning of his smile vanished off his face, returning to his usual stoic look.

“Not that it mattered anyway,” Kylo mumbled. “Not like my men could get anywhere close to bringing that damn ship down…”

If Rey didn’t know any better, she would almost say he sounded… Proud?

Kylo had gone so silent, staring down at his joined hands that hung loosely between his knees with his index finger tapping absentmindedly against his other hand. He stayed quiet for so long that Rey was certain the bond would be seconds away from cutting them off as it did before, when it would somehow seek out the lull in their conversation and break them apart, its timing always so impeccable.

“Are you going to keep watching me? Or are you going to continue with what you were doing?” Kylo finally broke the silence, the sudden presence of his voice nearly making Rey jump.

“You can’t really expect me to just turn my back to you. And besides, if I did, surely you would have nothing better to do than to watch me.”

Kylo simply shrugged his shoulders at her in response, a rather childish act that she wouldn’t expect from him.

“I’m sure it won’t be long before we’re cut off from each other anyway.” Kylo supplied. “So, I think we can both agree it would be a better use of your time to, as I assume you were doing, finish up preparing your breakfast, instead of staring me down and thinking you would be able to smack me to death with a stick.”

Rey felt irritation flare-up in her gut as Kylo once again did all he could to try and undermine her. How many more times would he underestimate her capabilities? She had already bested him in combat before, proved herself just as powerful as was, and yet he still saw her as less than him?

“It wouldn’t be the first time I had to teach someone a lesson with this stick.” She informed him, practically spitting out the last word, still angry at him for referring to her weapon as such. She knew he did it purposefully to rile her up.

“It would be a bit different this time, don’t you think?” Kylo replied snarkily. “I’m not just some dirty scavenger on Jakku trying to sneak in to steal your food.”

“That’s not the only thing they tried to take from me.”

For a split second, she could see something dark flittering past his eyes at her comment. They shone with an anger she wasn’t familiar with, although one she knew wasn’t directed at her. It was gone as fast it came, an obvious glitch in his usual emotionless state, which he was quick to return to as he took a deep breath in.

“I can imagine,” Kylo said gently, now finding it difficult to keep his eyes locked with hers. “And I can also imagine they learnt quite quickly not to come anywhere near you.”

“Yes, well…” Rey began somewhat awkwardly. “I suppose it’s a good thing I’m not on Jakku anymore.”

“You didn’t return to your home, then?”

“Why would I?”

Kylo shrugged once more.

“Jakku is…It never really was my home. I have no reason to return there, not anymore. That place is nothing but a bad memory to me now.”

“If Jakku isn’t your home, then what is?”

Rey paused at this, his question echoing around her mind. What was her home? Well, what made a home, a home? Did it have to be an actual place? Somewhere she would plan on staying for a long length of time? To that extent, she supposed Ahch-To was now her home. It was a place for her to rest, a place for her to eat, a place for her to train, and a place for her to…To live, she supposed. Of course, she couldn’t tell Kylo any of that. She couldn’t think of anything more dangerous, than telling him where she was. She was sure that, even with just the mention of this planet, the First Order would find a way to track her down. Having him appear to her across the Force was bad enough, she didn’t want to think about having to confront him and his army alone on this island, face to face.

“I don’t know yet.” Was all she would give him.

A part of her was expecting for him to get annoyed at her avoidance of the question, perhaps expecting that he would assume she would slip up and tell him of her whereabouts. Instead of that, he nodded his head slowly at her answer, perhaps resonating with it himself. She was moments away from asking him what his home was, when he spoke.

“I hope you find it, one day.”

Even Kylo himself seemed taken aback by the sincerity in his tone, turning away from her inquisitive look with a clear of his throat, raising a hand to scratch absentmindedly at his chin whilst making sure to look anywhere but at her.

“Could you please, just…continue with what you were doing?” Kylo asked awkwardly, unable to escape her gaze. “Put your weapon away and go collect your meal from…wherever it ended up.”

Rey looked to him in confusion then, glancing down to the half-boned fish by her feet and then back up at him.

“Can you not see it?”

“No,” Kylo stated. “Like before, I can’t see any of your surroundings; only you.”

“Not ever?”

“There are…occasions, when something else comes through the bond. Sometimes you emit a burst of power that lets me see more. Other times, it can be from another’s power.”

“Another’s? You mean like Master Skywalker? Did you-“

“Yes. I saw him.” Kylo answered sharply, a hint of irritation in his voice. “I saw him burst through your door, I felt his anger, saw the hut practically explode and when the force cut us off, and for a moment I assumed that-“

Kylo stopped, his mouth closing shut with an audible snap as that familiar look of anger spread across his face. A frown was quick to appear on his features, though this one was one that was aimed at himself, annoyed that he was, for some reason or another, finding himself close to sharing more than he wanted to let on.

“You…You couldn’t really have thought he had tried to kill me?”

His dark eyes flickered up to hers.

“It wouldn’t be the first time he tried to kill one of his students.”

Rey kept a cautious eye on his brooding figure, glancing down every now and then at the weapon by her side and wondering if it truly was safe to let both her guard and her weapon down around a man that was supposed to be her enemy. Kylo had followed her line of sight, sighing in frustration when he caught her staring at her own weapon for the fifth time.

“Fine then,” Kylo said, standing so swiftly from his seated position that Rey had to resist the urge to swing her staff at his knees to bring him down. “Will this make you feel better?”

Kylo’s hand moved leisurely to his side, wrapping his gloved fingers around the wide hilt of his saber. Rey went from her more relaxed position to combat-ready the second his fingers touched the surface of his lightsaber, narrowing her eyes in suspicion at his actions, wondering what it was he would try to do next.

Out of all the options she could think of in that short time, none of them were for him to throw his lightsaber at her.

Her staff dropped down to the damp stone hut floor with a resounding ‘clang’, releasing her weapon without a second thought to ensure it wasn’t his lightsaber that would be sent careening to the floor. She very nearly dropped the saber in her flailing as she caught it, taken quite by surprise by the hefty weight of his saber, especially compared to Master Luke’s one. Rey looked up to Kylo in complete and utter shock, unable to think of a single reason why he would be so comfortable with simply handing her his signature weapon (and quite carelessly, might she add).

“Why have you given me this?” She asked him, flicking her eyes from the saber to him as he sat back down again.

“I thought you might feel more comfortable around my presence if I didn’t have a weapon.”

“Your saber isn’t the only thing you could kill me with.”

“True.” Kylo conceded, nodding his head along with his response. “But then again, so could you. So, I’d say that makes us even right now.”

Rey couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at this.

“And so, you’re just…what, assuming that I won't kill you with your own lightsaber.”

“I’m not assuming,” Kylo replied calmly. “I know you won’t kill me.”

“Excuse me?” Rey spluttered, taken aback by his certainty of the situation.

Kylo pushed down on his knees as he once again stood from his seated position, wasting no time as he took a few long strides towards her. Rey stood her ground as he advanced, despite how their difference in height meant she was now having to crane her neck up to look at him. Kylo said nothing for a moment as he stood over her, the long pause, and consequential silence, sending her heart into overdrive as adrenaline begins to race through her bloodstream.

“Go ahead.” Kylo challenged, stepping impossibly closer, until she could feel the warmth radiating off him. “Do it. Kill me.”

Rey stared up at him for a few more seconds before her thumb began to slide over to the ignition of his saber, making sure to keep her eyes firmly on his own as she flicked the slide up. Lines of fire roared to life in her peripheral vision, the blades of his saber crackling with unstable and ferocious energy. Rey raised the saber, the spitting blades mere inches from his face, further highlighting the ragged red scar that ran down his face and disappeared within his shirt. And yet, Kylo did not flinch in the slightest.

Because he was right. And just like he had said, he knew he was right.

She couldn’t do it.

Rey couldn’t explain why. It should be so easy, to just swing the saber to the side and…that would be it. She would have killed Kylo Ren, supreme leader of the First Order, leader of the Knights of Ren, and one of the last, most powerful Sith, left alive. It would be a massive blow to the First Order, surely making it infinitely easier on the Rebellion to take down the First Order once and for all.

Yet, all the while, there’s a voice, a presence inside of her, screaming at her not to do it. Something that shouted ‘No! No! No! No! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong! Wrong!’ whenever she had so much as a thought to move her arms.

So, instead of doing what was arguably the right thing to many people, Rey voluntarily let her fingers slip away from the ignition switch, extinguishing the hut of its fiery red glow and returning it to the glow of the early morning light.

Rey still couldn’t tear her eyes away from Kylo’s, just the same as he kept his gaze locked on hers whilst he raised a hand to wrap around his saber that she still held, gently prying it from her in one quick and efficient movement. Rey swallowed nervously as he re-attached his saber to his belt, only feely mildly reassured at the fact that he didn’t immediately turn the weapon on her.

“I’m glad I called your bluff,” Kylo told her, so close now that she could feel his breath on her face as he spoke. “Good to know I’m not the only one.”

And then, in only a blink, he was gone from her sight. Rey let out a breath she didn’t even know she was holding, feeling the jitters of her hands as the adrenaline in her system began to wear off.

She got the feeling that the loss of the heat from his fiery saber wasn’t the only reason the hut suddenly felt colder than before.

Link To Chapter 2

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fanfiction #reylo au #kylo ren/rey #ben solo/rey

4 notes · View notes

k-llama-llama · 5 years

Text

The Visit

Monsta X AU: 8th member

Zoey x Monsta X

25 Days of Zoey: Day 9

Zoey’s family pays a visit for her first Christmas with Monsta X, and things start to make sense. (takes place right after ‘First Christmas’

A/N: no links in my posts until tumblr sorts itself out.DM me or head over to my ask box!

Please submit your requests to my Ask Box!!

Wonho took Zoey’s coat as they stepped through the door of the apartment.

“I’m sorry my family is so weird.” He said with a laugh.

“Are you kidding?” She beamed, spinning around. “That was honestly the best. I’ve never had that much fun at a meal, ever!”

“What about every time you eat with us?” Minhyuk demanded, stepping out of the kitchen.

Zoey laughed loudly, in way too good of a mode to even pick up on sarcasm. “I love every meal with you guys. Trust me, this has been the best day ever.”

She pulled off her boots, taking off at a run and sock sliding into the living room. She landed right behind Shownu’s spot on the couch, wrapping her arms around him to catch herself.

He barely flinched, just reached up to grab her hands. “And how are you?”

“I’m perfect!” She exclaimed, kissing him on the cheek.

“Apparently.” Hyungwon laughed. “Where’s my love?”

“Right here!” Zoey wrapped her arms around his head and kissed the top of his hair. “Did you guys have a good time with your families?”

“We had a great time, Zo.” He reassured her. “And clearly you did too.”

“I did!” Her smile was so wide it stretched from ear to ear. “I’m going to go put on sweatpants.” She declared.

“I still don’t know why you wore such nice clothes.” Wonho asked, stepping into the living room.

“Because I wanted your family to like me.” She said genuinely, skipping off towards the bedrooms.

Jooheon snorted the second she was gone. “Clearly she had a good time.”

“You should have seen her.” Wonho smiled. “My mom was ready to write her into the will.”

“Thats Zo for you.” Kihyun mused.

Changkyun emerged from the bedroom. “Anyone want to tell me why Zoey just slid on her sock-feet down the hall and into the bedroom door?”

“She’s happy?” Shownu offered. “Just leave her be.”

“She was laughing, so I assumed it was either too late to help or she was fine.” Changkyun picked up one of the cookies left on his plate from that morning. “These are still delicious.”

“Mine are all gone.” Jooheon complained. “I had to share them with my family.”

“I’ll make you more, Heonnie!” Zoey promised, returning from the bedroom in sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. She had a pack of makeup wipes in her hand, and she sat herself between Hyungwon’s feet and started removing her makeup. The older boy took his cue and leaned forward, starting to unbraid her hair.

A knock sounded at the door.

“I’ll get it.” Wonho offered.

“Who are we missing?” Kihyun looked around. “Are we expecting anyone else?”

“I didn’t think so.” Shownu looked curiously towards the door. “I’m not sure who it is.”

They heard the door open, and Wonho cheerfully greet whoever was on the other side.

“Is So-Young here?”

Zoey felt her blood run cold.

“So-Young?” Minhyuk said with a laugh. “Who calls you So-Young?”

“My parents.” She breathed, scrambling to her feet.

She turned as Wonho led her parents into the living room. All of the boys leapt to their feet and bowed politely, Zoey doing so out of reflex.

Both of her parents were small and slight in stature, though that was where the resemblance ended. Her father was a very round man, with a large face, whereas her mother was thin like a reed, with sharp features. Zoey was slim, certainly, but all of the boys could see instantly that her features had more of a softness to them.

“Eomma, Appa.” Zoey forced a smile. “What are you doing here?”

Her mother gave a small smile. “We needed to speak with you, and we were in town for business.”

“Since when?”

“Since last Tuesday, I believe.” Her mother answered.

Zoey swallowed and kept the smile plastered on her face. “You’ve been in town for over a week, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

“We were very busy, So-Young. We barely made this time in our schedule as it is.” Her father said sternly.

Zoey nodded. “Sure. Okay, what did you want to talk about?”

Her mother cast a look at the other people in the room. “Is there somewhere more private where we could speak?”

Zoey sighed, it not escaping her notice that her mom hadn’t even asked to meet the boys. “Sure, we’ll go to the bedroom.”

She pushed her way past Hyungwon, leading her parents down the hall and out of view.

The second the door closed behind them, the boys all turned to each other. “What just happened?”

Zoey turned with her back to the door, facing her parents. They were both casting doubtful glances around the crowded bedroom.

“This is where you sleep?” Her mother said in a shocked tone.

“Yes, Eomma. My bunk is right there.” She pointed to her space, resisting the urge to hide the yellow bear, and the silly Photo Booth pictures she had taped to the wall. Her instincts screamed at her to protect them.

Be civil. She reminded herself.

“Merry Christmas! It’s too bad that we weren’t able to go out for dinner or something.”

“Yes, Merry Christmas.” Her mother said absentmindedly.

“We really don’t have time for this.” Her father checked his watch.

“Don’t have time? What-”

“So-Young,” Her father interrupted. “We just needed the code for the safe in your closet.”

Zoey shook her head. “The code? For the safe? Why?”

“There isn’t anything in it, is there?” Her mother asked.

“In the safe in my bedroom? No, it’s empty. But why do you need the code?”

“Because,” Her mother explained. “We’re going to be renting out the room, and offering use of the safe does up the value.”

Zoey leaned against the door for support. “You’re renting out my bedroom?”

“Yes.” Her father said simply. “Since you’re living here now, the room shouldn’t just stay empty.”

“But what about when I come to visit? What about my stuff?” Zoey asked incredulously.

“We’ve moved all of your stuff to the basement, don’t worry.” Her mother said as if that was any sort of reassurance. “And well...” She looked to her husband.

“We don’t think it’s a good idea for you to come visit.”

“You’re kicking me out?” Zoey demanded. “Why?”

“We aren’t kicking you out, So-Young. Don’t be so dramatic.” Her mother snapped. “But it won’t look good if our daughter is always coming and going.”

“It won’t look good if your daughter never visits! And why can’t you just tell people why? Tell them I’m living in Seoul because I’m in a group?” Zoey asked desperately.

“So-Young,” Her mother said in what she seemed to think would be a kindly tone. “It doesn’t look good that you didn’t go to university. Once this group achieves something, then we may start to tell people. But it just doesn’t look good for your father at work if his only child didn’t attend school.”

Zoey bit her lip and nodded. “Six, Five, Nine, Three.”

“What?”

“That’s the code for the safe. Six, five, nine, three. Is there anything else we need to talk about?”

Her mother seemed taken aback. “No, that was everything.”

“Good.” Zoey said stubbornly. “And don’t worry about the stuff in the basement. I have everything I need here.”

“We really do not have time for this.” Her father said. “The train leaves in an hour.”

“I’ll see you out.” Zoey said cordially.

They walked down the hall, past the curious eyes of the boys, and Zoey held open the front door for them.

“It was nice to see you, So-Young.” Her mother offered.

“Merry Christmas.” Zoey closed the door behind them.

“Did they not want to stay and talk?” Kihyun asked curiously. “I would have liked to meet them.”

“Oh no.” Zoey said sarcastically. “They couldn’t find time in their busy schedule.”

“Zo?” Changkyun asked nervously.

“Yes?” She said sharply.

“What did they want then?” Jooheon asked.

Zoey forced a smile onto her face. “They just wanted to let me know that they were renting out my room, so I should just stay in Seoul until I’m not an embarrassment to the family.”

You could hear a pin drop.

And then Zoey broke down in tears.

“No, no, no!” Wonho rushed forward, wrapping his arms around her before she could collapse to the floor. “I’m sure that’s not what they meant.”

“That is what they meant, Hoseok.” She wept.

“No, Z, it isn’t.” Kihyun knelt next to them, rubbing her back gently. “They’re your parents, of course they love you. They just...have a strange way of showing it?” Even he was struggling to spin what had just happened in a positive light.

Zoey didn’t register any of his words.

“Why don’t they want me?” Her voice cracked.

“C’mere.” Wonho gathered her up and led her over to the couch, the boys following closely behind. He sat next to her on the couch, gently smoothing out her hair. “Zoey, it’s going to be okay.”

“How?” She demanded. “I’m basically an orphan. My parents are so embarrassed about my existence that they’d rather it seem like I never existed then tell people I’m a rapper.”

“Then they’re idiots.” Changkyun spat out. “That’s their own problem.”

“Your the coolest, Z.” Jooheon promised. “If they can’t see that than it’s their loss.”

She sat up, giving them a sad smile. “Guys, I love you for trying to make this better. But you can’t. My own family doesn’t give a shit about me. And it sucks that I keep getting surprised by that.”

Shownu knelt in front of her, brushing some of her tears off of her cheeks. “What family?” He demanded. “Because your family is right here. And trust me, we definitely give a shit.”

“We give two shits!” Minhyuk offered. “So we’re twice as good.”

Hyungwon kissed the top of her head. “We don’t need them, Zo. We’re your family, now and forever.”

She nodded sadly. “Okay.”

“Besides,” Wonho rubbed her arm. “I thought we established this months ago. I adopted you! Which means really you were cheating on my family with those imposters.”

She snorted.

Kihyun felt like they were making progress. “Stupid way to end an awesome Christmas. But next year we’ll make it better.”

“We could egg their house.” Changykun offered.

“Might as well.” Zoey shook her head. “They rented out my room, so I don’t even live there any more.”

Shownu resisted the urge to swear. “Idiots.”

A knock sounded on the door.

“I’ll get it.” Shownu stood, brushing back some of her hair as she leaned into Wonho’s side.

He opened the door, finding Zoey’s parents once again standing in front of him.

“Can I help you?” He demanded.

“Is So-Young still here?” Her mother asked.

“Why?” Shownu asked.

“We need her to tell us the safe combination again.” Her father explained. “And we have a taxi waiting, so can we hurry this up.”

Shownu gave him the closest thing to a death glare that he could. “She’ll text it to you.”

He closed the door in their faces.

“Do you want to go to bed, Z?” Wonho was asking when he returned to the room.

She nodded. “I’m done with today.”

“Me too!” Minhyuk exclaimed. “I need to diet tomorrow. I ate so much food.”

“I thought you were getting a little chubby.” Zoey said weakly.

“Yah! Go to sleep if you’re going to be so mean!”

“I will.”

She stood, making her way to the bedroom. She didn’t feel good, but she felt better. And that was going to have to be enough.

She scrawled straight into Wonho’s bunk.

He entered the room a minute later. “You know that’s my bed, right?”

“Just give me hug.” She rolled closer to the wall so he could fit.

The lights flicked off and he climbed into bed. His arms immediately went around her, pulling her close to that their foreheads were touching.

“You know we were serious, right?” He whispered. “We’re family. We don’t need anyone else.”

And though Zoey knew he was only saying it for her sake, she still smiled and kissed his nose. “Love you, Oppa.”

“Love you too.” He held her close. “You know, as far as little sisters go, you’re definitely not the worst I could’ve gotten.”

She smiled at his attempt at a joke. “And you guys are easily the best brothers I could’ve ever had.”

“Good. And don’t you forget it.”

“I won’t. I promise.”

“Merry Christmas, Zo.”

“Merry Christmas.”

261 notes · View notes

turnupswritessometimes · 5 years

Text

Lavender Eyes - Glimmerdora - For the She-Ra Big Bang

Title: Lavender Eyes

Word Count: 9998

Summary: Adora’s on the football tem. Glimmer’s in band. They think they can’t stand each other, until a series of accidents forces them to open up to each other.

Note: This is also available on Archive of Our Own and I will be continuing it as a multi-chapter fic over there. I would post a link, but then tumblr wouldn’t include it in search results.

THE ART WAS DONE BY THE AMAZING S9MU (@s9mu - show them all the love in the world!)

“Could you stop jiggling your leg?” the girl sitting next to Adora snapped.

Adora stilled her leg, taking a deep breath and holding it. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes.

“Why are you even here?” she continued, turning to Adora. She was shorter, even while sat down on these plastic chairs.

“Because it was my fault,” Adora said, which was actually the truth. It had been her who’d thrown the dodgeball. At the time, she had felt red hot anger in every one of her muscles. Even when it had smacked the girl on the side of the head with a resounding ‘thonk,’ she had felt immense satisfaction. It was only when she had gone down like a sack of bricks that Adora’s stomach had lurched.

Oh fuck, she’d thought. She had actually really hurt her.

Whilst Catra and Lonnie were slapping her on the back, she had been rushing over to her. Because, yes, she hated this girl – most people did.

Adora guessed it was all the ‘student council this’ and ‘student council that’ and ‘did you know my mum is the principal?’ It was always – ‘the art and drama department needs more funding instead of the sports department.’ It was always the way that she looked at Adora whenever she spoke in class – especially if she answered questions correctly.

But looking back on it now, she could barely remember saying more than a quick question to the girl at any time. A ‘do we have homework today?’ or ‘could you put this in the back of the van?’ when they were packing up for an away game.

Now here they were, alone outside the nurse’s office. There was the distant rumble of chatter from the classrooms opposite them and most of Adora wished more than anything to join them. She wanted to change out of her sweaty leggings and oversized t-shirt and pretend like nothing had happened. Like she didn’t care that she had all but knocked a girl out in dodgeball. Catra wouldn’t. In fact, Catra would preen about it for the rest of the day.

But the rest of her – the smaller part – wanted to make sure that the girl was okay. It was a part of herself that she rarely indulged – because helping other people didn’t get her to the top. It didn’t make her good at football and it didn’t make her top of the class. Just once, she wanted to indulge that part.

It was different without Catra and Lonnie behind her. She felt hidden. No one would find out about this – no one was here to witness it. No one would know that Adora was talking to the student council president who everyone despised – Glimmer.

“It was your fault? I thought you were aiming for me.”

“It’s dodgeball,” Adora said. “You’re meant to aim at each other.”

“You don’t have to throw the thing like you’re trying to get a touchdown!”

A football joke? Really? That was low hanging fruit.

“So, what? I’m supposed to go easy on you because you’re not on the football team?” Adora wasn’t even look at her. She was looking straight ahead to keep her temper – even if her hands were gesturing beyond her control. She was trying to do a nice thing here – the decent thing.

Maybe this was why she shouldn’t indulge the ‘helping others’ part of herself.

“No – but maybe go easy on the fat kid!”

Adora looked then, just in time to see Glimmer slumping back in her chair with her arms crossed firmly over her chest. She met Adora’s eyes with a determined glare.

“You’re not fat.”

It hadn’t even been an automatic response. Not a ‘does my arse look big in this?’ ‘no, of course not,’ knee-jerk reply. Adora had meant it.

Of course – she wasn’t thin. But she wasn’t fat, either Not with the negative connotations that everyone attached to it. Glimmer had curves – but they were graceful curves. Curves that made her look like a Rembrandt painting. She wasn’t tall and hard and pinched like Adora.

Glimmer didn’t hear the sincerity in Adora’s voice. She rolled her eyes and scoffed, “Yeah, okay.”

“I mean it. I wouldn’t have said it otherwise.” She was leaning on her knees, looking over her shoulder at Glimmer. The eye-roll had made her notice that her eyes were grey – but not really grey. More like violet. The colour Barbie eyes used to be. They were almost shocking against her olive skin and dark eyelashes.

Those eyes narrowed at Adora.

“So, your friend ‘accidentally’ tripped me up in the hall yesterday and ‘accidentally’ knocked my bag off my shoulder this morning and now you’re sitting here paying me compliments?”

“That – that’s not – Catra doesn’t mean any harm.”

“Doesn’t she?”

“She just – she likes to get under people’s skin. She steals my stuff all the time at home – hides it all over the house. When I’m studying, she’ll knock shit off my desk just for a laugh.”

“Then it seems like a lot of you like to get under people’s skin,” Glimmer muttered. She scuffed her sneaker on the floor and it squeaked. She must have been the only kid in gym not wearing converses.

Adora didn’t know what to say to that. She shrugged and pushed the stray hairs away from her face, tightening her ponytail. ‘Maybe if you weren’t so opinionated about everything’, she wanted to say. Or ‘maybe if you weren’t so annoying people would leave you alone.’

But Glimmer’s gaze had softened. Only slightly, but her voice dropped too.

“I didn’t know you lived with her.”

“Huh? Oh – yeah, I’m – I’m adopted. We both are. Put with the same foster mother because we were so inseparable. I mean – the home was ready to separate us, but Beatrix said it was fine.”

“I’m – sorry.”

It was mainly that awkward apology that everyone gave her when they found out. The sorry that Adora couldn’t understand and was starting to hate. Maybe there was a slither of sincerity in it, but she doubted it.

“I never got that,” she said – and wondered why she was only saying it now. Maybe it was just the sorry that broke the camel’s back. Maybe she knew that Glimmer wasn’t about to tell anyone. “That’s just the way it is. I’m adopted. If I wanted people to be sorry about it, I wouldn’t tell them about it.”

“Because you hate being the centre of attention, right?” The sarcasm was back, dripping in full force.

“I wouldn’t make a big deal of never knowing my parents just for attention,” Adora spat. “Shit – who do you think I am?”

“Practically perfect in every way. Adored by the whole school for being able to run fast and kick a ball.”

“Right, yeah – I’m just a dumb jock.” Adora’s face was burning – it always did when she got mad. “Oh, wait, no – I’m a straight A student.”

“So am I!”

“Well good for you!”

“You too!”

“I don’t even know why I-“ Adora stood. She let her fists clench and unclench a few times, like she was wringing out her anger through a sponge. “I don’t even know why I even bothered. I hope I gave you a concussion.”

“Oh, screw you, Adora.”

“Right back at you!”

The door to the nurse’s office opened then. She blinked between the two of them. Maybe she had heard the screaming match, maybe she was just ready now. Adora didn’t know and she couldn’t find it in herself to care. She opened her mouth to explain, closed it, then simply pointed a finger at Glimmer and charged back down the corridor.

That had hurt. That had hurt more than she had thought it would.

She didn’t care about her parents. She never had – but to say she was trying to get attention for it? Glimmer was the one who had brought it up.

Maybe she did deserve to have Catra trip her up – if she was going to start being spiteful for no reason like that. Or if she was going to decide things about people without even knowing anything about them. If she was going to hate Adora for being good at things. Of course, she was good at things. She worked hard to be good at things. She didn’t have free time – she had practice, practice, practice.

Adora slowed to a halt in the middle of the corridor. She could still see that eye-roll in her mind’s eye. Purple eyes. A small, sarcastic, disbelieving smile. That was Glimmer’s smile. She didn’t think she’d ever seen a genuine smile from her.

What would it look like?

What would it be like to be friends with someone who had that glimmer of sincerity in their ‘sorry?’

No one she knew gave genuine apologies. Catra didn’t apologise for shit and even when she did, it was muttered with rolled eyes and a ‘I can’t believe you’re seriously upset,’ tone. Lonnie was sarcastic – everyone on the team was sarcastic when they apologised. Or just uncaring. An automatic response.

And Glimmer thought that she was like them. That when she said, ‘you’re not fat,’ she hadn’t even meant it. Like she was just an empty, performative shell.

She gritted her teeth, the anger coursing through her now.

Her hand flew out, punching a locker.

And she regretted it two seconds later, when a burst of pain blossomed across her knuckles. She hadn’t even made a dent and it hadn’t even made the anger waver.

“Who was that for?”

She whipped her head around to the sound of the voice and suppressed a groan. Of course – who else but Glimmer’s best friend? The only other member of the student council who acted like they had a responsibility. Bow, she thought his name was. He was leaning against the lockers down the corridor, a ratty jacket slung over his gym kit.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, since you tried your best to dent Glimmer’s skull, I figured you’d have the decency to punch her to her face,” he said. He shook his head, though he was smiling slightly. “Doing it behind her back like this…she’ll be mad when she finds out.”

Adora frowned. The adrenaline was fading now.

“Are you teasing me?”

“I tease everyone. It’s why I’m so lovable.”

“I’m not sure the school agrees with that last bit.”

“Oh, the school doesn’t have to. The student body is just jealous of my insanely lovable nature.”

Adora wasn’t sure whether to laugh or get angrier. She stood there, staring at him. He was smiling at her, but there was something else behind it. Like he was sussing her out. She had never understood this boy – this boy who played flute and whose shirts always looked like they had shrunk in the wash. This boy who wore heels and just finger-gunned at anyone who laughed. Like he didn’t care. How could he not care? Appearances were everything.

“I’m guessing you snuck out of class to check on her?” she asked instead.

“That’s what friends do, yes.”

Was it? Catra just glanced across at Adora and murmured an ‘oh, you’re back,’ whenever she had to go to the nurse.

“Well, your friend is a right tit,” Adora said.

“I’m sure she’d say the same to you.”

“I don’t get it. I don’t get what I’ve done to earn this unbridled hatred.”

“Unbridled hatred?” Bow raised a heavy eyebrow. He was smiling like she amused him – like she was part of some joke to him. “It’s not you – it’s the whole team. None of you have any respect for us band kids.”

“And you don’t have any respect for us.”

“So, the cycle continues.” Bow sighed. He kicked off from the locker, sliding his hands into the pockets of his baseball jacket. “Why don’t you think about it? Think about what you’re doing whilst your mates make all those comments.”

“I’m not doing anything.”

The eyebrow just raised again. He didn’t even say anything else as he headed down the corridor – passing her on his way to the nurse’s office and leaving Adora staring after him.

What was any of that supposed to mean? What was with that smug look and sad shake of the head. Like she was a stupid child.

She was getting tired of people thinking that she was stupid and vain and childish. Like she was missing out on some big thing that she wasn’t seeing. How was she meant to see it if no one was going to tell her what is was?

Just why had everyone chosen her to hate? She wasn’t the one tripping people up in halls. She hated those kids, sure, but she wasn’t about to act on it.

Or did she hate them? She didn’t think she did – she didn’t think she cared enough to hate them. They were just there – the weird student council. Because Glimmer had decided to cut her hair and die it a pinky-lavender and it only looked cool for a week or two before it was faded and grimy. Because she didn’t fit in with everyone else. She didn’t care what she did to her hair. Good on her for not having her mother murder her for doing it.

So, she didn’t understand why it was her – the one who didn’t have a problem with it – that was getting all the blame pegged onto her. She didn’t understand any of it.

And she really couldn’t bring herself to care.

Adora was bad at not caring. Ever since the fight outside the nurse’s office and the cryptic conversation after, it had been playing on her mind. She wasn’t doing anything.

She was just standing by whilst Catra did what she wanted.

But what was she supposed to do? She wasn’t about to tell Catra to stop anything. She wasn’t about to risk the wrath of Catra.

And did it really matter? Why was it up to her to solve Glimmer’s problems.

It still bothered her, though. That was her friend and she chose to do that with her time. All her friends did, like some hideous mob mentality.

Was this the peer pressure that she had been warned about her entire life?

The thoughts had niggled in her mind so much that she had passed the post-practice burger run. How could she eat Wendy’s when she was worrying about whether or not she was a good person? She had just shrugged and said that she needed to study.

“Study? What for?” Lonnie had wrinkled her nose.

“We’ve almost caught up to Adora’s pre-reading in class, so she has to put the time in.” Catra had rolled her eyes. “Go on – go study, golden girl.”

She had just smiled gamely. She hated being called that by other people. That was something between her and her foster mother – being golden. Being perfect. It felt like Catra was looking into something private.

Then she had climbed into her car – her perfect PT Cruiser – and just drove. She wasn’t going to study – not tonight. But she wasn’t ready to head home – that would raise more questions. ‘Why aren’t you out with the team?’ ‘Why aren’t you watching Catra?’

Catra could watch herself tonight, Adora decided. She was an adult as much as her.

She spotted a flicker of lavender in the distance and frowned. The streetlights flooded the pavement with white light, illuminating the figure like a spotlight, impossible to miss.

Adora couldn’t believe it. She slowed as she approached the figure.

Seriously? She wanted to scream. Was the universe just against her? She hit a girl in a head with a dodgeball and suddenly she was driving down the same street as her. She saw enough of her in the corridors, flinching under her glares.

She carried on, past Glimmer.

But then she glanced in the wing mirror. And got a glimpse of red eyes and damp cheeks. She slowed again, so that she was almost crawling along the road. Yes – it was Glimmer – with her hair curled in a cloud around her head that was starting to fall flat. Glimmer with her arms tightly across her chest and her phone clasped tightly in her hand and the strap of her dress falling down her shoulder. A nice dress – with a glittery top and a chiffon skirt.

Adora hated herself for doing it, but she stopped the car. It was that same clench of ‘I should do this,’ from earlier. The same rarely indulged part of herself that wanted to do something good. Be the bigger person. That was what perfect girls did.

So, she rolled down the window, pushing back hair that had escaped from her tight ponytail back before she tried to smile heroically.

“You okay?”

Glimmer stopped. Just stopped in the middle of the path, wobbling slightly on heels. She wiped her eyes roughly with the heel of her palm and sniffed. She glared again – that same glare that she always gave Adora.

“I’m fine!”

Adora bit back the ‘you don’t look it’ in her tongue.

“Can I offer you a lift?” she tried instead, because now that she had her head out the window, she could feel the drops of rain. Glimmer’s skirt had tiny, dark spots on it – as if the stars had melted into the chiffon. “It must suck to walk in those heels.”

“Shows that you’ve never worn heels.” Glimmer said. But she still hadn’t moved. She was swaying slightly, even standing still.

Adora bit her lip. She didn’t want to leave a girl crying on the pavement. She wanted to be that hero in people’s stories. The good person.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Glimmer started to nod, and then her face crumpled, and she shook her head. She was wiping her cheeks again.

“I’ll take that lift,” she said, her voice wobbly and weak.

Adora nodded and gestured to the passenger side. She didn’t know what to say. She had no idea what to say to this girl in tears. This girl who hated her, who was in tears and getting in her car.

Glimmer slid into the passenger seat a moment later, her head down and her hands clutching her purse. Adora still didn’t say anything, just eased the car back into motion.

It was a good minute before she thought to ask, “where am I taking you?”

Glimmer murmured an address and Adora’s stomach dropped. They had been driving in the wrong direction. She tried to u-turn as discreetly as she could, hoping that Glimmer wouldn’t notice. She wasn’t good at u-turns.

But she didn’t even look up. She had just been staring at her lap, her hands methodically coming up to wipe her face. Her shoulders were shaking. Bare shoulders, Adora realised – and wondered why that seemed significant to her.

She lived on the other side of town – because of course she did. That was all Adora wanted today – a long, awkward drive.

“So,” she stretched the word out. “How – how’s band?”

“Do you really want to know or are you just asking?”

“I’m asking because I didn’t think you’d want to talk about why you’re walking down a road sobbing your heart out and whilst looking like that.”

“Like what?”

“Beautiful.” Adora wasn’t paying attention to what her mouth was saying. She was busy getting onto a roundabout and counting the exits. It was only when they were on a straight road again that her head caught up to her mouth. What did it matter? She asked herself. It was true – she had to imagine back the mascara and half of Glimmer’s eyeliner wings, but she looked beautiful. Just because she was annoying, it didn’t mean she didn’t look nice.

“What, did Catra ask you to say that?” Glimmer’s voice still sounded like it was breaking on every syllable and when Adora glanced across at her, she had that small, self-depreciating smile.

“No – no, I – what do you have against Catra, anyway?”

“What does she have against me?”

“Shit, Glimmer, because you’re always preaching about one thing or another and you think we’re all sacks of shit for not caring that the school play can’t afford to buy a man-eating plant prop.”

“Well, you are all sacks of shit for not caring about Audrey Jr,” Glimmer said. But it wasn’t a snap – it was a tease. The same teasing tone that Bow had used. Glimmer sniffed. “You – I didn’t think you even knew my name.”

“Oh, everyone knows your name.” Adora said. She tried to say it lightly, like it wasn’t a bad thing.

“Yours too. Yours for good reason.” Glimmer wasn’t looking at her, she was staring out the window. “Star quarterback, grade-A student, the school’s golden girl.”

She really wished people would stop saying that. It flicked her anger back on.

“Don’t sound too jealous.”

“I’m not jealous.” Glimmer snapped. “I have good friends – and that’s more important than being able to run well.”

“I have good friends too.”

“Yeah? Then why are you driving home alone?”

“They all wanted to go on a burger run. I wasn’t hungry.” Adora took her frustration out on the indicator.

“You’re always eating like there’s no tomorrow.”

“Well. Not tonight.” Adora gritted her teeth. She didn’t want to have an argument with a girl who had been in tears two minutes earlier.

The silence returned. Nice and awkward, Adora thought. She did have good friends – friends that she could always call when she needed them. Not that she would – if there was a problem, she’d deal with it herself. But she knew Lonnie would come running if she asked.

She was sure.

“So, why were you out on the streets by yourself at this time of night?” she asked – because she felt like it was her turn to get under Glimmer’s skin. Because if she had such great friends, why was she left to walk home alone in tears?

Because it wasn’t even really that late. It wasn’t even ten o’clock.

She heard Glimmer’s shaky breath in. Almost felt her preparing her answer.

“There was a party – I wanted to leave early,” she said.

“Because there was alcohol? They were peer-pressuring you to drink?” It was an unnecessary dig, but Adora felt entitled to it after all the unnecessary digs last week.

“Of course there was alcohol – and I do drink, so you can shut up.” Glimmer took another breath. Like it was an effort. “No, it was Bow. There was a guy that he’s head over heels for there and he was finally starting to pay attention to him – but he was giving me a lift home. I didn’t want to get in the way. I just – said that I’d walk home.”

“Bow – Bow’s gay?” That was the detail that Adora’s brain had zoomed in on. It probably made her seem like a dick, but that had been what made her breath catch. It was what had made her glance up from squinting at road signs and over at Glimmer.

She was watching Adora with a strange expression on her face, her arms still folded over each other like she was protecting herself. Like Adora was going to jump her right then and there.

“You didn’t know?” she asked.

“No.” Adora said, honestly. She didn’t know. She didn’t know that she wasn’t the only one. She didn’t know that anyone had come out at their high school. She didn’t know that anyone could – that anyone had the balls to do it.

Because she had known for a while. Of course she had figured it out. And of course she wasn’t about to tell anyone. She didn’t think ‘gay’ fitted in with her foster mother’s idea of the perfect daughter. Much too different. Much too many emotions to deal with.

She had to continue – to make it seem like it wasn’t a big deal.

“So – is that why – you were…?” She couldn’t even focus on making a full sentence.

“Crying?”

“Mm,” she didn’t want it to seem like a big deal. But it seemed like a big deal – girls like Glimmer didn’t seem to cry. Glimmer was tough and angry and the fact that she had a fondness for purple and dresses and nail polish didn’t mean she didn’t have a bite on her.

“It wasn’t – I don’t like him, or anything like that-“ Glimmer said. “It was – it’s stupid. I was just scared and all of a sudden I started crying. Childish, I know.”

“It’s not,” Adora said. That had been the only knee-jerk response she had given her. She didn’t know if it was childish. She didn’t cry because she was scared – Adora cried because she was stressed. She had nothing to be scared about. She couldn’t imagine having anything to be scared about. “Scared?”

“It’s dark and it’s cold and-“

“You want to go home?”

Glimmer paused. “Was that a theatre reference?”

Adora bit her lip so that the smile threatening to flicker onto her face couldn’t escape. She hadn’t really meant to say it – it had been something that she’d swallow down when she was with Catra. That wasn’t Adora – it wasn’t the team’s image of her.

But again, she felt safe saying it now. Glimmer was hardly going to share this story with everyone. Bow, maybe, but that was it. And he didn’t think either of them would care that she’d seen The Rocky Horror Picture Show.

Instead, she turned again. Half-blindly, because she didn’t want this car ride to end before she had some answers.

“I cut you off.”

Another pause. Longer this time, and Adora could feel eyes searching her face.

“Yeah – it’s dark and it’s late and my phone’s almost dead. I was scared using maps was going to kill it even more, but I wasn’t sure of the way and – well, I was heading in the wrong direction anyway, so it’s a good thing you came along when you did.”

“My pleasure.”

“I’m not – you’re still insufferable, you just have good timing.” Glimmer said and Adora laughed. Actually laughed – a short, loud bark that seemed completely out of place. “I freaked myself out – thinking about rapists and murderers and this one horror story I read about streetlamps.”

“Oh, the grinning man?”

“That’s the one.”

“Catra told me about it when I was twelve. There’s a streetlight outside my window and I kept my blinds closed for weeks.” Why was she saying that? It was supposed to be a secret. She hadn’t even told Catra how much it had scared her.

“So you do have a weakness.”

“I wouldn’t call it a weakness,” Adora frowned at the road, but for some reason she was smiling. “Just a – healthy awareness of urban legends.”

Glimmer made a sound that could have been a laugh. A half-laugh, half-sob. But by the time Adora glanced at her, the smile had already gone. She was left with a feeling like whiplash. That was banter. They were having banter.

When had that happened?

“Like I said, it was just stupid. I was just scared,” Glimmer said. She smoothed out her skirts. “I – was scared that this guy might take over Bow’s life. That he didn’t even care that I was walking home alone.”

“Bow doesn’t seem like that kind of guy.”

“He’s not. I said – I’m being stupid.”

They were getting close now, Adora realised. And strangely, she felt a little sad at that. She didn’t want to get to Glimmer’s house. Of course she did – she didn’t want to sit her with this girl.

But this girl hadn’t made a jibe for the whole car ride. She had been honest. And Adora had been honest. If she was in a teen movie, she’d say it was a bonding moment.

She didn’t want to have a bonding moment. She didn’t want to think about the teen movie she may or may not be trapped in.

What kind of movie would that be anyway?

And what did that make Glimmer? The best friend? She had a best friend. She didn’t need another one and she didn’t want to imagine replacing her with anyone. The love interest?

She pushed the idea way as quickly and quietly as it had come to her. No. Just no. There wasn’t exactly a list of reasons – it was just ‘no.’

Not gay – that was a good one.

Glimmer was not gay. And Adora was in no rush to leave the closet. It was safe in the closet. Things didn’t change in the closet.

She had been silent too long, she knew, and she was pulling into the road Glimmer lived on. Etheria Road. So, the car slowed to a halt.

“Well, I – I hope your fear is unfounded. I hope it – works out.” She said.

“Do you really care, or are you just saying that?”

She turned then, frowning slightly, because this had been a bonding moment and they had gotten nowhere.

“I don’t say things I don’t mean.” Adora said.

Glimmer stared at her for a moment. Her eyes were smudged with black like a raccoons and the curls had started to fall out of place, but she looked unreal for a moment. Ethereal came to Adora’s head and she wasn’t sure why. She was just a girl sat in her car. Just a girl in a party dress who had been crying.

But it seemed like she was looking at Adora – really looking at her, for the first time.

“Thanks.” Glimmer’s voice was quiet – breathless.

“And if-“ Adora’s hands clenched on the wheel. She cleared her throat, as if it would clear her mind. “If that grinning man gives you any trouble – you just – send him my way. I kick things good, apparently.”

“Finally, a good use for it,” Glimmer said. She was opening the door of the car, stepping tenderly out into the street.

Adora laughed again – the same too-brief, too-loud laugh. That should have made her angry. It should have made her defensive. But she was starting to understand the teasing. Maybe she was even starting to like it.

She threw her head back against the seat, trying to figure out the feeling going through her chest. It made her body feel light but her chest heavy, like her heart had been replaced with a stone. She was exhilarated and yet she was disappointed.

Adora stayed for a moment, making sure that Glimmer got into her house. Just as she knocked on the door, Adora realised. There was a sprinkle of purple glitter in the car, stuck to the seat.

Glitter from the dress.

She rolled down the window without thinking about it, leaning her elbow on the side so she could stick her head out, “Your stupid dress got glitter all over my seats!”

The door was already opening, and she knew Glimmer’s mother had heard her. She was looking at her now, but Adora wanted to focus on Glimmer’s face. She had turned to look at her, her mouth in a small ‘o,’ like there was something unexpected about this. Hell, it was all unexpected.

And the most unexpected was Glimmer blowing a kiss to her.

“Something to remember me by!”

It was the same sarcastic tone. Even the kiss was sarcastic, Adora could admit.

But that didn’t dislodge the strange feeling in her chest from it. It didn’t dislodge the fact that Glimmer had smiled. A smile that lit up those lavender eyes. A smile that made Adora half-believe she was in that teen movie.

And maybe that wasn’t a bad thing.

Catra noticed the glitter. Because it was Catra and her eyes lived up to her name.

“The fuck is this?” she pointed to it, before she got in.

Adora looked at it. Hopefully her face looked confused and not reliving a strange but enjoyable car ride to the nice side of the neighbourhood. Where the houses had flowers in the window boxes instead of broken glass. Where they had lattices of wood and tiny balconies wrapped around upstairs window.

The glitter had been sat there for three days – since Friday night. It was Monday morning and she hadn’t had the heart to clean it up. Normally Adora took care of her car – her car was her baby and she washed it every week, inside and out. But the glitter – she had decided the glitter could stay.

She shrugged, “Fuck knows.”

At least it made Catra shrug and sit down, slamming the door with force enough to make Adora wince. She was anal about her Cruiser. It had been her sixteenth birthday present. The perfect present for the perfect girl, as Beatrix had said. She wanted to take care of it.

To keep it perfect, because she wasn’t.

They started off, making the obligatory Starbucks stop on their way in.

“When are you going to learn to drive, Catra?”

“When you stop driving me.”

It was the same conversation they had every other day, but it still made them grin at each other. See, Adora wanted to say – best friend. Best friend banter. Glimmer didn’t hold a candle up to that banter.

Only that banter had left that strange light-heavy feeling in her. That banter she wanted more of – instead of the same thing over and over. She decided to try something out – dip her toe in untrod water.

“Did you know that Bow kid’s gay?”

“Yeah, and?”

“I just – I only found out last week, and – I don’t know.”

“Pretty sure ninety-percent of the student council is gay,” Catra was peering in the overhead mirror, fiddling with the little row of rings that went down the side of her ear. Beatrix had gone mad at each knew addition. It hadn’t stopped her. “Hell, pretty sure ninety-percent of this generation is gay.”

The thought made Adora’s stomach flip. Ninety-percent of the student council? Did that include-

And why was she even thinking about it as a possibility? Hate – Glimmer hated her. That wasn’t going to change because of a car ride.

Why was the idea so appealing anyway? She didn’t care. She was sure that she didn’t care.

Catra was joking, anyway. She had to be.

“C’mon – we’re not.”

There was a pause. Adora glanced at Catra. She had her coffee to her lips and her eyes out the window.

“Yeah,” Catra said after a moment.

“Catra? You – you okay?”

“Oh – hey, look – that Chipotle’s done getting refurbished.”

It was Catra’s way of snubbing her. Of saying ‘we don’t talk about this shit and we’re not about to start.’ Because they didn’t talk about feelings. Not really. Not ever. But Glimmer had. She had shared fears. And though Adora had been completely unsure of what to say – she had managed.

The conversation had dropped. If there had ever been a time for Adora to peek out into a different world, the door had slammed shut. She was trapped, for better or for worse.

School continued like normal. Subjects, lunch, subjects, training. Even if they officially met on Fridays, they would get together most evenings. The Horde had been top of the league for decade and they weren’t about to mess that up. They had to be the best – and if that meant training every day, so be it.

They had to win. Winning was everything. That had been drilled into Adora. If you weren’t winning – if you weren’t the best – what was the point? What was the point of anything less than perfect?

So, everything had been normal – right up until training.

It was stupid – so incredibly stupid, but it had started to spit with rain. The not-quite rain of September, forecasting a miserable fall. The rain had been at fault – because the rain had made Adora think of stars melting onto chiffon skirts. It had made her think of that smile. That stupid smile, because she wasn’t looking where she was running, and her foot had caught on a rock. Not even a rock, a pebble.

A stupid pebble that went skittering off and left Adora sprawled in the mud of the track with a searing pain in her ankle.

She lay there for a moment, waiting for the pain to fade whilst she tried to sit up. Her arms were caked in mud.

Lonnie caught up moments later.

“You good?”

“Fuck,” was all Adora could reply. She had expected it to be a sharp pain and then a fade, but it was still aching in full force. “Fuck, it hurts.”

“Come here.”

Her arm was thrown over Lonnie’s shoulder and she was being hauled to her feet. She kept her foot off the ground. Her legs were just as splattered in mud.

“What’s the problem?” someone yelled from the other end of the pitch.

“Adora’s ankle.”

“Shit – we haven’t even finished warm ups!”

“Get her to sit out for a bit.”

“No, she needs to see the nurse.”

“What? Lonnie, no!”

“First match is next week. It’s better safe than sorry!”

“I’m fine, really.”

“No. No, you’re not.” Lonnie said. Her eyes flashed and her voice was firm.

Adora found herself nodding.

“I’ll help you get to the nurse’s room,” Lonnie continued. She helped her hop back across the grass and into the school building. The ache was starting to ease now, or maybe it was just the effort of hopping all the way back inside, her hand in a death grip on Lonnie’s shoulder.

But she finally made it back to the nurse’s office.

Lonnie helped to ease her into one of the plastic chairs and Adora noticed her arm linger just a second more than it needed to on her back.

“You should get back.”

Lonnie nodded. She took a few steps, then glanced behind her.

“You gunna be okay?”

Adora nodded and forced a smile.

She watched Lonnie walk back down the corridor.

She had lied. She wasn’t sure she was going to be okay. She was worried – worried that her leg wouldn’t heal in time and she’d be sat out for the rest of the season. That was her worst nightmare.

After a moment, Adora took a breath and eased herself around the plastic chair to knock at the door.

This had been where it had started. Where she had said more than a passing comment to Glimmer. The dodgeball incident that had made her life a teen-movie.

“You got me at just the right time – I was ready to head home for the day!”

Adora smiled wanly as she was invited inside. After a few minutes, the tension had gone from her. It wasn’t a break, wasn’t a sprain. It probably wasn’t even a torn ligament. She would most likely be fine if she went home and put some ice on it.

Adora was going to play this season. She was going to win.

So, she gave a real grin and a real ‘thank you,’ as she hobbled out of the nurse’s office. Just bent her ankle the wrong way. But better to go home and be safe than sorry. The thought blinded her – the relief that she was absolutely fine, that everything was going to stay the same –

That she didn’t look where she was going for the second time in an hour.

She stumbled into the poor person who happened to be walking by the nurse’s office. They made her lurch forward, put weight on her sore ankle-

Suddenly she was clinging on for dear life and waiting for the sharp, searing pain to calm down again.

“Ow!”

She knew that voice.

Adora eased her eyes open and her stomach dropped.

Glimmer was frowning at her, a big, black instrument case in her arms.

Adora dropped her grip, then promptly lost her balance on one foot and clattered back into the plastic chair. The nurse gave her a strange look as she headed from her office. But she was done for the day and that made not spending a second longer at the school – and just continued down the hall. And Glimmer was still staring at her as if she was a crazy person.

“Sorry,” Adora said, too late.

“What the hell?”

“I – I wasn’t looking where I was going.”

“Evidently,” Glimmer hitched the black case back into position.

Seriously? Again? Adora was starting to believe the movie theory – or that she had somehow cursed herself throwing that dodgeball and she was destined to run into Glimmer forevermore.

“What’s wrong with you?” Glimmer continued. But it wasn’t an angry ‘what’s wrong with you?’ She was looking at Adora’s leg. Not looking particularly concerned, but not looking venomously hateful of her either.

“Twisted it,” Adora said. She shrugged. “Not good at seeing today.”

“Oh.” Glimmer turned as if to leave. She looked like she was stuck to the spot. “Lots on your mind?”

It was so out of place that Adora was caught off guard. She said the first thing she could.

“Do you really want to know or are you just asking?”

Glimmer shrugged. They let the silence sit for a moment. Adora couldn’t admit the truth – not to her, but Glimmer wasn’t leaving.

“You alright to get home like that?”

“Ah – um,” Adora hadn’t even thought that far. It wasn’t like she could hang around for Catra to give her a lift. She’d just have to manage. “Yeah – fine.”

“Seriously?” Glimmer raised an eyebrow, that sarcastic smile appearing just at the edge of her mouth. Adora shrugged.

And Glimmer rolled her eyes. All the way up to those long, dark eyelashes. “Come on,” she said, with a heavy sigh. “I just finished up my lesson anyway.”

“You don’t have to-“ Adora spoke quickly.

“No, I had better pay you back. Then we’re even.”

“Thanks.” She wasn’t about to pretend she wasn’t grateful. She limped down the corridor beside Glimmer.

“Yeah well,” Glimmer gave another shrug. It was like they were doing shoulder work outs. “You did save my skin.”

“It was the decent thing to do.”

“Oh, my chivalrous knight.” Another eye-roll, but that teasing tone that was starting to make Adora’s heart rise. She didn’t want it to – she wanted to tell it ‘no, not this one. We don’t like this one,’ but it was determined to disobey her. “That was what my mum called you anyway – can you believe it?”

“I guess not.” She stopped in front of her locker, balancing on one leg as she opened it and started pulling her stuff out.

“She thought you were a guy, as well. I guess it was the jacket.” The jacket Adora was pulling on now – a red letterman. All the team wore them. She guessed it was kind of cliché. “And your hair was all pulled back.”

“It gets in the way.” Adora slung her backpack over her shoulder and they started off again.

“Why don’t you cut it?”

“You kidding? My mum’d kill me.”

Glimmer gave her an odd look then. For a moment, she wasn’t sure if she understood hyperbole, but then she said.

“It’s your hair.”

Perfect girls didn’t cut their hair short. That would be to different – too daring.

“Still,” was all she could say.

“My glitter and Glimmer!”

She hadn’t even noticed Bow coming down the hallway. He stopped, blinked at her.

“And her new beau,” he added.

“No, you’re Bow,” Adora said, before she could stop herself.

Bow grinned.

“I wish I’d never told you,” Glimmer scowled. At least it wasn’t just Adora she scowled at, then.

“Oh, come on, it’s funny.” Bow was fiddling with his own locker. He had a smaller instrument case over his shoulder.

“It’s hilarious that my mum thinks bisexual means bi-curious and ‘not really,’” Glimmer rolled her eyes. She was doing it a lot and they were just as mesmerizing as ever.

Oh.

Well that ruined Adora’s biggest reason for not thinking about it. At least she still had the ‘hate’ part.

Bow scoffed. “Yeah, and I’m just going through a tomboy phase.”

They both laughed. Adora didn’t get it. She just stood there, wishing she could shift her weight.

“Adora’s coming with us. She hurt her leg.”

“And you’ve come to her rescue.” Bow always seemed to be smiling. Adora hated people like that. At least, she thought she hated people like that. Now everything seemed to be changing.

“I call shotgun,” she said. Just for something to say as all three of them started back down the hallway.

“Not fair!”

“Is to,” Glimmer said. It almost gave Adora a heart attack – Glimmer? On her side? “She’s disabled and I’ll drop her off first.”

“Oh, you don’t have to.”

“Bow practically lives with me – and even if he was going home tonight, he could walk the five minutes. You can get in the front.”

Bow groaned again but winked at Adora. She wasn’t sure what to do back and ended up settling for an awkward smile.

Glimmer’s car was purple. Of course, it was. A purple little beetle. It suited her.

Bow clambered in the back and Adora awkwardly shuffled into the front seat. There was a collection of take out boxes and random props cluttering up the car. She kicked a feather boa away from her legs and into an empty MacDonald’s box. This car was messy – and there was mud splattered all over the bottom half of it.

And yet, she wasn’t completely disgusted by all of it.

“You’re going to get mud all over the seat,” Glimmer said, as she climbed into the driver’s side. There was a huge pom-pom on her car-keys that were buffeted by the aircon.

“Something to remember me by,” Adora said.

Glimmer glanced up at her. And smiled. Then the car was lurching out of the parking lot. It was the kind of car that moved in lurches – or maybe that was just Glimmer’s driving. The silence didn’t last long. Maybe it would have, because Adora had no clue what to say – but there was Bow in the car. He leant between the seats to talk.

“Isn’t this nice, guys? Two mortal enemies and a best friend, all in a car together.”

“Mortal enemies?” Adora echoed.

“Where do you live?” Glimmer asked over Bow. Adora gave her address over hesitantly. She wasn’t sure why – but she didn’t want the two of them to know she lived in the area of town not-so-lovingly dubbed ‘the fright zone.’

“Sure – don’t you hate each other’s guts.”

“I don’t hate Adora’s guts, I hate Catra’s guts,” Glimmer said simply. “Her and the rest of the team.”

“Gee, thanks.” But a thrill had run through Adora.

“Just last week you went on a tirade about perfect Adora with her perfect grades and perfect legs. I remember. I felt like Lucius Malfoy listening to his son.”

Perfect legs? That was the only part Adora concentrated on – she didn’t even follow the reference.

“Yeah, well-“ Glimmer paused. She looked warm – her face was flushed. “A lot can happen in a week.”

“Knight in shining armour,” Bow stage-whispered to Adora.

“Bow, stop.” They were stopped at the lights and Glimmer turned to Adora, those lavender eyes big and apologetic. “If he makes you uncomfortable, just say.”

“Why would the insinuation of being gay make someone uncomfortable?” Bow asked. “Are you being homophobic, Glim?”

Glitter groaned and rolled her eyes. Adora found herself laughing. She liked this – this three-way banter. Not as much as the two-way, but – it felt good. Better than the banter the team had. That was all just mean jokes and sarcasm.

“No, it’s fine – I’m actually-“ Adora stopped herself just in time. Caught the word as it threatened to escape. No – she couldn’t – that was still the unsayable. “Fine.”

They were both looking at her. She swallowed and looked out of the window instead. Glimmer changed the subject of conversation. Started talking about a show that she’d been watching on Netflix – one that was making her procrastinate too much. Bow joined in, enthusiastically.

At some point they must have noticed that Adora hadn’t said anything in a while.

“What have you been watching?” Bow asked.

There was silence – too much expectant silence in the car.

“Oh, I don’t,” Adora said. Then realised how weird that sounded and clarified. “I don’t have Netflix. I don’t really watch T.V that much either – I just, don’t have time.”

It wasn’t productive. Her time could be spent so much more productively. T.V was Catra’s thing – and it was Catra who had to hear how bad the T.V was for her brain.

“All work and no play,” Bow commented.

Adora shrugged. She could still feel Glimmer looking at her. She wanted to snap at her to keep her eyes on the road. To mind her own business. So Adora didn’t watch T.V. What was the big deal?

The big deal, she found out, was that she was cut out of the loop. That Bow and Glimmer kept talking about this and that and she had nothing to add.

It was a relief when she was dropped off at her house. She smiled and said, “thanks,” and hobbled up the drive like she didn’t notice the cigarette butts outside the door. Like she didn’t see that her house was falling down,and the paint was peeling and the next-door neighbours had a broken window they still hadn’t fixed.

Like she didn’t wish that she was going back with Glimmer to watch Netflix.

Adora didn’t understand why it was playing on her mind so much. Glimmer. Glimmer being bisexual. Glimmer not hating her. She didn’t even know if she liked her. Hadn’t she thought just last week she was annoying?

But was it annoying? To care about things? Was it annoying to have a good best friend and a nice house? Was it annoying to watch T.V but still be top of the class? Was it annoying to be happy?

Because Glimmer seemed happy. And that seemed foreign. Adora assumed that everyone was stressed and just finding a way to keep their head above the water.

Happy? What was that?

It wasn’t like she could act on it anyway. The thought had gone through her head time and time again during the game. As she pumped her legs across the field and felt the mud splatter her and adrenaline coursing through every part of her. She couldn’t act on it. The team wouldn’t like it – especially not if she was gay and with Glimmer.

Not to mention her foster mother.

No, there was no way. She repeated it to herself over and over again. But she also kept seeing the small smile Glimmer gave her in the hallways now. The snatches of conversation she would have if they were alone in the corridor. Something had changed. Something odd had happened. They weren’t friends, exactly, but-

Glimmer didn’t hate her.

And Glimmer was bisexual.

And there was no way that Adora could ever act on that.

They won the game. Of course, they did – because that was what the Horde did. They won.

Adora was grinning as she was pulling off a sweaty helmet. Everyone was hugging and cheering and clapping each other on the back but she slipped out of it. She was starting to do that. To inch away when Connie was bitching about someone. To tell Catra ‘that’s enough’ when she went too far. Bow had been right – she had been doing nothing. And that was just as bad as taking part.

It was a stupid lesson – a lesson they taught to kids – but she had learnt it. It had taken too long – but she got it now.

And she didn’t like it. She wasn’t sure she liked them, even though they were her friends.

So she stood to the side and gulped down a bottle of water, grinning whenever they glanced over to her. She pushed her hair out of her face, taking a breath and getting ready to leave. To grab her bags and get ready for a night of sitting in Arby’s verbally rerunning the game.

But Adora had developed a habit of not seeing. Of being too caught up in the cycle of ‘she’s bi/but I can’t act on it,’ to see the person right in front of her.

Suddenly she was being hugged and fluffy, short, purple hair was in her face.

It only lasted a moment, before Glimmer was pulling away and pushing her fringe out of her eyes. Her hair stuck up like wings either side of her face, which was flushed pink. She crossed her arms – like she was trying to cover up.

“Sorry – I just-“ Glimmer said. “I – that was cool. What you did out there. I only have a vague understanding of football, but that was – cool.”

“Oh.” It was all Adora could say. She felt like her brain had short-circuited. Like someone had turned off something important. “Thanks.”

Here was Glimmer. Hugging her. Congratulating her. Was this because of a few car rides? Had things really changed that much in a week? A lot could happen in a week. Glimmer had said that. It seemed she had meant it.

She smiled at Adora, looking self-conscious. She still had a large, gold instrument in one hand. Adora thought it was a trombone, but the brass section confused her. The red marching band uniform clashed with her pink hair – overshadowed those lavender eyes. What was she doing here? Hugging a sweaty Adora like they were friends – something had changed.

A knight in shining armour, Bow had said. Maybe he had been right.

“So, I guess everyone goes out to celebrate now, huh?” Glimmer said.

“Yeah,” Adora said. “Arby’s.”

Was that an invitation? Was she hoping Glimmer would say yes? She wasn’t sure.

“Right,” Glimmer nodded. She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. Lavender coloured earrings – Adora noticed. Stars. “But you’re not over there?”

“I’m not. I don’t – I don’t know if I like my team that much.”

“I don’t know if I like the band that much,” Glimmer said.

Because now that Adora looked, they were all packing up. Their job was done, she supposed. No one was celebrating them.

“Wanna celebrate together?” she was asking. She was sure she only did because of the adrenaline. Because it was a bad idea, but it seemed like a good one for just a moment.

Glimmer paused, her eyes searching Adora's.

“Why not?” she asked, with that small smile of hers.

“Great.” Adora just stood there for a moment, still breathing heavily. Then she realised she was still swathed up in padding and added, “give me ten minutes to get changed.”

She ran to the school, because she had just finished the game it was sometimes hard to get out of the habit of running. That, and she didn’t want the others to see. Adora was true to her word, basically throwing off her clothes to throw skinny jeans and a t-shirt back on before anyone else could get back and catch her. At the last moment, she resprayed deodorant and sent a quick text to Catra with hands that were still shaking from adrenaline and pre-game nerves.

It was only when Adora was on her way out of the changing rooms that she realised that she needed a shower. That she probably stunk, and her hair was sweaty and messy – but it was just Glimmer. She wouldn’t care. It wasn’t like she liked Adora.

She was waiting at Adora’s car, leaning against it like this was completely normal and scrolling through her phone. When Adora was closer, she looked up and smiled.

“I thought we should take yours. Mine’s still caked in mud.”

“Sorry about that.”

“Are you really?”

“I wouldn’t say it if I didn’t mean it.”

Glimmer just gave her a look, like she didn’t believe her. Then she shrugged and opened up the passenger side and slid in. Adora followed.

“Anywhere but Arby’s.” She said, putting the car into gear and pulling out of the car park. She could see the team slowly making their way over to the changing rooms, all jumping onto each other. Their arms in the air – she could almost hear the celebrations from here.

“You don’t want your cool friends to know you’re going out with a band geek?” Glimmer asked. Going out. Was that just a poor choice of words?

“Do you want my cool friends to know?”

“Alright, you win.”

Adora laughed and for once if didn’t sound like it was forced. It didn’t sound awkward.

“Fries and shakes?”

“Fries and shakes.”

Twenty minutes later they were pulling into the Steak n’ Shake on the other side of town. It felt surreal – it wasn’t particularly empty or particularly full, but normally the celebrations after the game were loud and crazy. It was always having to be funny and witty and on all the time. More of a performance than a celebration.

Adora didn’t feel like that as she walked inside with Glimmer – Glimmer who was still in her band costume and rocking it. It felt normal – like she could be herself.

Be herself with the girl who hated her guts. The girl who hated her guts who had agreed to go with her tonight. They got a window booth and Adora nursed a salted caramel milkshake between her hands and a portion of fries in front of her. Of course, Glimmer had chosen strawberry milkshake, because of course she did – because it was pink, and pink was close to purple.

“I love cheesey fries, but cheeesy fries always taste better when you’re drunk, right?” Glimmer said. Like this was completely normal. Like they were just two friends hanging out.

“I wouldn’t know.” Adora said. There was a strange twist in her stomach.

“You’ve never had fries drunk?”

“I’ve never been drunk.” Adora said. She pointed a fry at Glimmer. “And you shouldn’t either – that’s illegal.”

Glimmer blew her cheeks out, like that was a stupid thing to say.

“So?” she shrugged.

Perfect girls don’t drink.

But Glimmer wasn’t bad. Glimmer was happy and seemed a lot more knowledgeable than Adora would ever be.

“You should come round to Bow’s – he has the basement. We could all chill with a couple of beers.”

“I couldn’t do that,” Adora said. “My mum’d kill me if she found out.”

“Well you wouldn’t tell her that’s what you were doing. You’d lie.”

“I couldn’t lie to my mum!”

“I lie to my mum all the time,” Glimmer said, she paused to take a mouthful of fries. “It’s a kindness – what she doesn’t know can’t hurt her, right?”

Adora paused. “Maybe.”

It became awkward. Adora could feel something against her foot. She assumed it was the table leg but she wondered if it was Glimmer’s foot. If she had meant to do that. She must have realised something was wrong, because she changed the subject slightly.

“So the football team doesn’t go on massive booze-ups?”

“Unless I’m not invited.”

“And you’d always be invited?”

“Well,” Adora shrugged and smiled. “I am the star player.”

Glimmer snorted. Adora laughed. She found that she was enjoying this – coming back to the same jokes. The same teasing and smiles and laughs. Glimmer’s laugh. She wanted to hear Glimmer’s laugh more. She wanted to see Glimmer’s smile more – because now she had seen her smile. Genuinely smile.

It seemed perfect. The perfect evening, in a weird way. Maybe because it was such a change of pace, but probably because it was so easy. Talking to Glimmer was so easy and fun and it made her grin. It probably had something to do with that sinking and rising feeling that Adora got when she dropped Glimmer back at her house. It definitely had something to do with the kiss that Glimmer had blown her from her front door before she disappeared inside.

Adora was happy. She felt –

Happy.

So, this was happy. She liked happy.

#glimmerdora #spop #spop big bang #she ra and the princesses of power #adora #glimmer #she ra #she-ra #princess adora #princess glimmer #s9mu #thank you so much again i am still GUSHING #turnupswrites

36 notes · View notes

gayexistentialcrisis · 5 years

Text

Tumblr Connections ch. 7

Thank you to my bet @judgemental-llama I love and appreciate you so much!! here is the link to the full story on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17193416/chapters/40427129

Everything appeared to be in slow motion as Cyrus sat in the waiting room of the hospital, his mom beside him. He was acutely aware that every few minutes she would gently place her hand on his knee to stop him from anxiously bouncing his leg up and down, but as soon as she took her hand away, his leg was bouncing again.

The only thing he could vaguely hear was shuffling feet and far away beeps and blips of various machines, some even keeping the people around him alive. Please let TJ’s mom be okay… He thought desperately as he put his head in his hands, his elbows on his knees.

Suddenly the world burst with sound as familiar sneakers entered his vision as he sprung out of his seat, nearly knocking TJ over in the process.

“Woah Underdog, careful.” TJ said softly as he placed his hands on Cyrus’ waist to steady him, causing the younger boys face to flush in the process as he awkwardly coughed and stepped back, away from his touch.

“Any news? I was going to get you food or something to drink but I wasn’t sure where the vending machines were but I also wanted to be here when you came out to see if there was any news and-” Cyrus had begun rambling and he quickly stopped his sentence, taking in a deep breath while glancing up as TJ’s face. Oh no, I hate seeing him cry… He thought, resisting the urge to reach his hand up and brush away the stray tears that were still on his cheeks.

“She’s okay. Minor cuts and bruises and they want to keep her overnight because she has a concussion, but they said she got lucky.” TJ said softly, the biggest smile spreading across his face as he spoke. Before he could stop himself, Cyrus was launching himself forward, wrapping his arms around the basketball players shoulders while nearly knocking him off his feet in the process.

“Oh! That is such amazing news Teej. I’m so so happy for you.” Cyrus cried out, a tiny giggle falling from his lips as he held his friend tightly. Feeling TJ snake his arms around his waist, Cyrus blushed darkly, hiding his face in the taller boys neck momentarily before stepping away.

“Hey Cy? Can I ask you a question?” TJ asked, his face taking on an expression Cyrus couldn’t quite decipher. Wait- When did he start calling me Cy?

“You have me a little worried here, but yeah sure. Go ahead. I’m all ears.” He said softly, sliding his hands into his pocket as he studied the taller boys face. He watched TJ bite his lip and tilt his head to the side before looking away.

“Uh- nevermind, thank you for being here for me.” TJ mumbled, giving him a half smile before turning and walking back to where he had just come from. Huh… That was weird… Pulling out his phone, he went directly to the Tumblr app to see if Tristian had messaged him back. Nothing.

Furrowing his brows, he opened the conversation and sat back down in his chair, thinking about what exactly to say.

Cy: Hey Tris, I might be IA for a little while. Lemon’s mom got in an accident and I know he needs me right now, though he might not admit it to me.

Reading over his message, he nodded slightly before hitting send and shoving his phone back in his pocket.

Sliding down in his seat, Cyrus rested his head against the back of the chair while closing his eyes. As he sat there, his mind began drifting back to his conversation with TJ. When did he start calling me Cy?

Sitting up quickly, Cyrus gasped while pulling out his phone, heading directly to his tumblr page. TJ saw my post about him on tumblr he thought vaguely, pressing his hand against his mouth.

If he saw it, why didn’t he say anything? Furrowing his brows, he looked up, scanning the room around him to see if he could catch a glimpse of his best friend. Seeing him walking back towards him, Cyrus stood up, walking quickly over to the taller boy.

“Okay, so I know this isn’t the best time, with your mom being hurt and all… but earlier, when you were at my desk um, did you happen to see anything on my laptop?” Towards the end of his sentence, his voice began fading out, unsure of what the response would be. TJ’s smiled faltered, but then went back to normal although Cyrus could see a hidden emotion hiding in his eyes.

“Uh, no. I don’t think so. Why? Did you leave your diary open?” TJ asked, his voice taking on a teasing edge. Oh if only you knew… Cyrus plastered a smile on his face and shrugged.

“Oh. No. Just embarrassing baby pictures. Just wanted to make sure you didn’t see the picture of three-year-old me running around the backyard naked Timothy Jimothy.” Cyrus lightly patted the other boys shoulder before laughing at his confused expression.

“Now where did you come up with that one Underdog?” TJ asked, raising his brow while smirking slightly. Wow this boy really gets the butterflies going…

“Oh Troy J-Bolton, you will never know what’s going on inside my head.” TJ groaned at the name Cyrus said before playing rolling his eyes and ruffling the younger boys hair.

“Really Cy? Comparing me to Troy Bolton? What all because we both play basketball?” Cyrus bit his lip to keep himself from laughing too hard and shook his head, glancing down at his feet then back up at the green eyed boy.

“No it’s because you’re both the unfairly attractive basketball captain.” Blushing at his own words, Cyrus quickly looked away, coughing to cover up what he had just said. Suddenly he felt a hand on his cheek and he looked back to the boy in front of him who had an unreadable expression on his face.

“And you aren’t so bad yourself Underdog.” TJ whispered, his eyes drifting to Cyrus’ lips, causing the brown haired boys breath to get caught in his throat. It would be so easy to just lean in. So easy to just close that distance and-

Cyrus’ thoughts were cut off by someone clearing their throat behind the two boys, causing them to jump apart.

“I’m sorry to ruin your moment, but mom is asking for you Teej.” Amber said softly, an apologetic look crossing her face as her eyes drifted from her brother to her new friend. Giving her a forgiving smile, he turned to TJ, wrapping his arms around the boys waist in a hug.

“I should probably get going anyways. I still have to go to school in the morning and Ander is picking me up early so we can go to breakfast.” Cyrus said softly, his face buried in TJ’s chest. Suddenly all heat left him as TJ stepped back, a pained expression on his face before it was carefully covered up with a neutral expression.

“Yeah, wouldn’t want to be tired for your date. You know, you should totally ask him out. I can tell he’s into you. See you later Cyrus.” TJ said coldly before turning and walking back towards him moms room, leaving a confused Cyrus and an annoyed Amber behind.

____________

The next morning Cyrus sat in his bed, his phone sitting atop his thigh as he waited for his usual good morning text from his best friend. Realizing it wasn’t going to come, he swallowed the lump in his throat before getting up to start getting dressed for breakfast. Did TJ really mean what he said?

Hearing his phone chime as he pulled his sweater on, Cyrus dove at his bed before picking up his phone and sighing softly at the notification. Oh, it’s just Ander. Unlocking his phone, he opened his messages with the older boy. One thing he learned about Ander that he didn’t expect was that the boy was a year older than TJ, two years older than himself.

Ander: Hey Cy. I just wanted to let you know I’m outside. Can’t wait to see your cute face.

Pursing his lips, Cyrus read over the text before frowning slightly. Shouldn’t I feel something with him calling me cute? I should feel like I do when TJ calls me Underdog or Muffin.

Cyrus: Alright, see you in a minute bud. Laughing at his blatant awkwardness, Cyrus stuffed his phone in his pocket before grabbing his bag and heading downstairs to get in the car of the boy he had no interest in.

______

“So Cy, how was breakfast?” Jonah asked lightly when he saw the brown haired boy at lunch later that day. Cyrus sighed, pushing his tray away from him as he laid his head on the table in front of him.

“A disaster. Well- for me it was. He asked me out on another date and even though my head was screaming no, my mouth said yes. I didn’t have the heart to take it back when I saw how happy he got.” Cyrus mumbled, the words being smothered by his arms. He heard whispering and looked up to find Andi talking to Jonah, occasionally glancing at Cyrus. “What?”

“Just… What about TJ?” Andi asked hesitantly, tucking a stray piece of hair behind her ear. Cyrus sighed and shook his head, pulling out his phone as it vibrates.

Tristian: Oh wow, I’m sorry to hear that. It’s crazy though, my mom is in the hospital because she got into a car accident too.

Cyrus gasped as he read the message over and over before looking up at Andi.

“Tristian’s mom got into a car accident just like TJ’s. So now not only do I have to be there for TJ but I have to be there for Tristian too because they both need my support.” He said softly while pouting, his friends exchanging an incredulous look before Buffy starts laughing.

“Cy… I mean this in the nicest way possible, but how oblivious can you be?” She asked, her eyes widening as she gestured widely towards him. Furrowing his brows in confusion, he glanced down at his phone that back up at his friends, at a loss for words.

“What could you possibly mean?” Cyrus asked, typing out a quick reply to Tristian before shoving his phone back into his pocket to give his friends his full attention. Jonah tilted his head as he studied his friend.

“I’m oblivious, but even I’m not that oblivious. Really Cy? TJ’s mom gets in a car accident. Tristian James’ mom gets in a car accident. TJ… Tristian James. Really Cy? You haven’t figured it out yet?” Jonah said softly, reaching forward to place his hand on Cyrus’ forearm. No. No way. This is too crazy.

“Why do you guys have to do this… I was happy. I didn’t need you guys putting these ideas into my head!” Cyrus suddenly burst out of his seat, staring at his friends with tears in his eyes. Grabbing his bag, he headed toward the exit, not once looking back at his friends.

Pulling out his phone, he dialed the one person he wanted to talk to right now.

“Underdog? Aren’t you supposed to be in school?” As soon as his best friends voice filled his ear he calmed down, slowing down his pace from a near run to a slow walk, his feet carrying him in the direction of the swings.

“Teej… Can you meet me at the swings?” He hated the way his voice cracked in the middle of his sentence, but he couldn’t help it. Holding his breath he waited for the other boy to respond. He heard shuffling and hushed voices on the other end and became concerned the answer would be no.

“Of course. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes and we can talk about whatever is bothering you. I… I can’t wait to see you because there’s something I need to tell you. Bye Muffin.” Hanging up the phone, Cyrus smiled briefly as he continued his walk to the park. Glancing down at his phone, the notification he saw made him stop in his tracks.

Tristian: I said “I swing”. I think if he can accept me after that, this won’t be a big deal.

Tristian: Shit wrong chat. Ignore that.

That’s what TJ said to me when he came out… Holding his breath, Cyrus typed out his reply, biting his lip before he pressed send.

Cy: TJ Kippen… I swear if this is you and you knew but didn’t tell me… Please tell me this either isn’t you or you didn’t know. Please.

Releasing a shaky breath, Cyrus began walking towards the park again, only this time at a slower pace. Feeling his phone vibrate, Cyrus decided to ignore it until he arrived at the swings, allowing himself time to calm down and get his breathing back to normal.

“Cyrus…” Somehow the older boy had beat him to the park and from the looks of it -sweat on his forehead, his breath coming out in short little gasps- he had run there. Approaching the swings, TJ stood up in front of Cyrus and for the first time in a long time, made him feel small.

“Please tell me you didn’t know. I could handle it if you didn’t know.” Cyrus said, his voice sounding small and fragile. TJ looked torn and reached out to Cyrus who lurched backwards out of his reach.

“I should’ve told you. I found out yesterday at your house. I accidentally saw your tumblr open on your laptop. I was scared that it would change things so I kept quiet. Please Cyrus. I’m so sorry.” TJ rushed out, taking a few hesitant steps towards Cyrus as he was talking. As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Cyrus felt a sharp pain in his chest and it felt like all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the air.

“You… knew? Wow… I thought you were the one person I could count on.” Cyrus whispered, breaking eye contact to look down at his shoes. “You should’ve just told me Teej.”

“I didn’t think it would end like this. And besides, your new ‘lemon boy’ needs you. How was breakfast this morning by the way?” TJ asked, his voice taking on a cold tone. Cyrus’ jaw dropped and he quickly looked up, using both hands to shove the other boy back harshly.

“Really? I have never been interested in Ander you dumbass! It’s you! It’s always been you…” With that being said, Cyrus turned and began walking away from the basketball player.

“Wait! Cy.. I’m sorry I-” TJ began before Cyrus turned around and cut him off.

“No Teej- Or should I start calling you Tristian? Why not both. I need space just please… Let me have space. We can talk tomorrow.” Cyrus called out, his voice coming out harsh and broken. TJ reached out for him before dropping his hand as Cyrus shook his head and turned, walking in the direction of his house as he clenched his fists.

All I ever wanted was you.

______

taglist: @allicat-76 @sarcasticfirehazard @alyxandraz @unprofessionalart @tyrus-is-endgame-fight-me @emmy2024riggs @tyrusvibes @heart-eyes-kippen @theobligatedklutz @cyrus-greatman @bittertyrus @tyrusmuff1n

#tyrus #andi mack fanfic #andi mack #cyrus goodman #tj kippen #tyrustumblrconnections

76 notes · View notes

lenfaz · 5 years

Text

Sea Squad, ch. 6 (6/14)

Summary: Killian Jones has always managed tough spots in his con life… but never like this one. His brother is out of jail and convinced the only way to win his name back is to heist the casino of a major Vegas mogul, leaving Killian to do the planning. He now has to deal with a half-brother desperate to gain a name of his own, an ex-fling that carries her own torch against the casino mogul, his brother losing his mind over his ex-wife, his former mentor’s depression and the one woman he can’t get out of his mind giving him chase. Ocean’s Eleven AU

Rating: M

Content warnings: semi-explicit sexual content, law-breaking (they are thieves, liars and con men), mild violence (someone will get punched), mention of former relationships (for the main pair) and cheating (but not for the main pair)

Banner (link to banner post) and art by the amazing @clockadile Go check her art tag for the fic here!

This fic would never exist without the wonderful @sambethe who convinced me to do over hot chocolate on one cold Chicago afternoon and virtually held my hand and betaed this fic for months. thank you SO much for everything you do.

A/N: A long time ago there was talk about Hook & his sea friends and a few collective posts shaped the idea of a Sea Squad. This fic is the attempt to bring that creativity to life. Tagging @queen-mabs-revenge @thesschesthair and @jvosketches as they were part of that initial thinking back in the day. If a few things sound familiar, it’s because they are based on the movie.

Link to FFnet & AO3

on tumblr: 1 2 3 4 5

Chapter 6

The hours turned long and they’d hit the somewhat duller stages of planning. The initial excitement for the heist had given way to long hours of detailing, building the vault replica, and going over the execution. It required a level of focus and concentration that brought out frayed nerves in everyone.

Well, almost everyone.

Nemo had always been good at keeping his composure, and Poseidon had a knack for coming in and out of the character he was playing without wearing himself out. But the rest of them were starting to show signs of distress.

Ariel and Eric bantered constantly, but their rapport had taken on a sniping quality, even about the most petty items, right down to their Netflix queue. The uptick in Smee’s fidgeting with his cap, as well as his obsessive need to re-review the footage of the casinos and note every single detail, was leaving an ache in Killian’s jaw from all the clenching.

LJ, meanwhile, was giving Killian and Liam the silent treatment, as he kept his headphones glued to his ears and his nose buried in a seemingly endless stream of books.

Milah had taken to disappearing for hours at a time, keeping whatever - or whomever - she was doing under wraps. All of which suited Killian just fine, as the last thing they needed was to alert Gold that she was in town. Besides he knew Milah and trusted her. He knew she could be stealthy when she wanted, so he kept his mouth shut.

Ursula spent most of her time shadowing her co-workers at the casino, and only dropping by to feed them new information and get orders from Liam. The two of them would retreat into a corner, all bent heads and whispered words. They didn’t fool Killian at all. He knew Ursula was updating Liam on all of Belle’s movement and a part of him wanted to call his brother on wasting effort by splitting their focus. But Liam had promised, as did he, so he knew he owed his brother this chance.

As for Henry, Killian knew he still felt like an outsider. Luckily, the kid had thick skin and when he was done bonding with LJ over music and comics, he’d retreat to his own corner, plugging in his headphones and writing in his journal. His quiet edge was one Killian easily recognized as the product of spending too much time on his own in foster and group homes, and he couldn’t help but feel drawn to the kid because of it. When he was not shadowing LJ, Killian had been working with Henry, going over what he needed to do and rehearsing and timing his performance. The lad was good - more than good - and Killian couldn’t help the pride he felt as time and again Henry delivered on what he was asked to do.

Which was why when he found out that Henry wasn’t an expert on poker - or any card game - Killian took the kid under his wing and vowed to teach him everything he knew. Unlike his celebrity students, Henry was sharp as a knife, picking up on what the game was about and executing bluffs with such mastery that it brought tears to Killian’s eyes. He was getting fairly good at blackjack too. He couldn’t count cards with Liam’s speed, but he was good at making quick decisions in the heat of the game and landing on his feet.

After the first couple of nights, LJ asked to join the game, and Killian got a glimpse at another side of his little brother. When he was at ease - and he seemed most at ease with Smee and Henry - he could be quite charming. His permanent scowl gave way to an easy smile and a dry wit, his hands moving fast as he dealt cards, his eyes not giving away a single thing as he called bets. He proved to be as good as Killian at bluffing, and even better than Liam at reading a table. It was enough to make Killian weep, again, which resulted in LJ throwing his cards at him, calling him a softie.

Clearing his throat, Killian looked at the three of them. “We need a night out.”

“To do what?” Henry asked

“Get some drinks, play some cards, bet some money,” he replied with a wave of his hand.

“So basically the same thing we’re doing right here,” LJ retorted, clearly not impressed with him. Killian, though, knew by now it was a tactic his brother played. If you don’t get your hopes too high, the fall doesn’t hurt that much.

“Not exactly the same… we’re lacking a certain ambiance here.”

Henry gave them a wry grin. “I’m underage… I won’t be allowed anywhere.”

“There is so much you need to learn about this town, lads.” Killian turned around to his most loyal companion. “What do you say, Smee? Should we show these two what the City of Sin has to offer?”

/-/

He had to give it to both of them, Henry and LJ cleaned up well for their night out. Black slacks, button down shirts, nice shoes, the whole nine yards. Which was slightly funny considering that they ended up in one of the seediest joints Vegas had to offer. But the drinks were good, the tables were humming with activity, and no one even thought to card them with Killian by their side. They joined a poker game in one of the private rooms for a few hours before they took onto the blackjack tables. Henry held his own in both while also holding down his liquor. LJ, true to form, simply took everything by storm, including charming the brunette dealer who kept leaning closer to him with each new hand she dealt. When she announced the end of her shift and threw a coy glance at LJ, Killian knew the night was coming to an end. At least for some of them.

Smee and Henry moved to cash in their winnings, while he and LJ finished their drinks.

“You know you’ve had a tail for the past few hours, don’t you?” LJ said as he placed his glass on the table.

“Aye, I’m aware.” Killian’s fingers moved along the rim of the glass, resisting the urge to look behind him. “She’s been shadowing us all night.”

“You shadow her, she shadows you… is this some kind of kinky foreplay I want to know nothing about?”

Killian laughed. “I wish.” He ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to focus on the matter at hand. “Will this be a problem for you?”

LJ shrugged. “Nah, I don’t think so. She might be good with faces, but I’m good at being a no one. It’s going to come in handy this time. But I should take off before she makes it any closer. Perhaps seek refuge in a different bed for the time being.” His eyes glinted with mischief.

He rolled his eyes. “I’m sure that’s a sacrifice you’re willing to bear, and I’m sure that lovely croupier would be more than happy to assist you.”

“I’ll get Henry and Smee to leave without coming back here, just in case. I figure you can run interference for us?”

Killian raised his glass at him. “I can do that. It’s me she’s after anyway.”

LJ squeezed his arm. “Killian, be careful, aye?” The concern and fondness in his words made Killian swallow.

“Aye, I will.”

He watched as LJ retreated, playing with the chips on the table and downing his drink. He ordered another as the new dealer showed up. As she set up the table, Killian counted out his heartbeats - one, two, three, four…

On five, Emma sat down beside him, cashing in a hundred dollar bill.

“I’d have thought you’d have privileges for playing in Gold’s casinos, Swan.”

“Fancy places are not my thing. And I could say the same to you. Nemo’s protegee should be able to access better places than this.”

He tilted his head, studying her profile. He wasn’t surprised by the words. It was only natural that she’d set to go after him, looking under every rock for every single piece of information she could gather on him.

There just the two of them on the table and the dealer opened up the bets. He placed a chip on the felt and waited for his cards. “What can I say, this place has its benefits…”

She didn’t pay that much attention to her cards. “What were you doing here tonight?”

Shifting a little, he doubled his bet. “Just passing the time.”

She passed on her bet and Killian winced. She should have doubled with the cards she’d been dealt. “Really? And who were your friends?”

A small smirk came to his lips. “Just some acquaintances I hadn’t had the chance to catch up with in a long time.”

The house went over. He won a good sum. Emma won the bare minimum.

“Funny you should say that, because when I looked into you, I couldn’t find a single associate. Or friend. Or acquaintance.”

Aye. He’d anticipated that, which is why he’d made sure Smee erased all traces of his known associates, along with his family and friends. Only Nemo remained, as it gave him a valid connection to be in the city. If push came to shove, he could claim that he was here to be with his friend.

He examined his cards and shrugged a shoulder. “What can I say, I’m a lone wolf.”

“Bullshit, Killian.” She raised her hand to double her bet and his hand moved of its own accord to stop her.

“The house has too many chances to take this one, let it pass.”

The way she cocked an eyebrow at him stirred something in him, but he reigned it in and slowly removed his hand. Emma stared down at her cards for a long moment before passing on raising her bet. He wouldn’t count that as a sign of anything, that way would only lead to heartache in the end. They continued to play in silence for a few hands, Killian earning a nice pile of chips while Emma fell behind. Resisting the urge to give her more pointers, Killian leaned back and drummed his fingers on the table.

“How's working for Gold?”

The corner of her lips lifted in the hint of a smile. “Please, as if you were interested in my work.”

“You wound me, Swan.”

“Drop the act. I know you’re up to something and I know you’re trying to weasel information out of me. But I’m not the girl that I was. I’m not falling for your charming lies this time.” She gathered her chips, leaving one behind for a tip, and walked away.

He shouldn’t go after her, he knew he shouldn’t. And yet the temptation was stronger than his will. Picking up his own chips and sliding them in his pocket, he flipped one to the dealer and followed Emma out.

He caught up with her almost at the exit and pulled her into a corner of the room. Resisting the urge to give in and press his body to hers, he focused instead on his words.

“You don't want to do this. You don’t want to be spying for Gold, Emma.”

“You don’t get to tell me what to do, especially since you’re the reason I need to find this type of employment.” While there was bitterness in her words, her eyes also seemed focused to his lips. Killian felt the same pull and he moved closer to her, his fingers itching to trace along the soft skin of her arms. Before he could, Emma shook her head and pressed her hand on his chest, stopping him.

“Your charm no longer works on me, Jones. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice…”

“I’m not trying to fool you.” He sighed, resisting the urge to drag her out of here and bring her to the warehouse, to tell her everything. If this was his con alone, he’d do it in a heartbeat. But too much was a stake here, too many of his friends were depending on him. They were already on shaky ground considering Liam’s focus on Belle, Killian couldn't add more complications to the mix.

Still, he couldn’t leave without letting her know the type of man she was dealing with. “I know Gold. He’s dangerous. He doesn’t play fair.”

She snorted, tilting her head to the side as she glared at him. “And you do?”

The barb hurt and he swallowed around the lump in his throat. “I have a code, believe it or not.”

“I don’t need a code. I need answers,” she whispered and her confession shook them both. Emma’s eyes widened and she tried to move away from him, but Killian grabbed her elbow and pulled her to him.

“What is it that you're after?” His eyes bored into her, studying her face for any hint of what was really going on. “It can be just the job, not really. Gold pays well, but nothing that you cannot make elsewhere.”

“I don't have that many options left with my reputation ruined, remember?”

“Bullshit. You’ve been highly rewarded for your work.” He regretted the words as soon as he said them. He should learn to keep his own damn mouth shut.

“Keeping tabs on me, huh?”

He ignored her question, his mind focused on one thing and one thing only. It was clear that when he walked out of that room on her, there had been more than her job at stake.

“What was it? What did I cost you, Emma?”

Her face was a blank mask, her eyes avoiding his. “Wouldn't you like to know”

He reached out, caressing his thumb along her cheek. He kept his next words quiet, the desperate plea in them clear. “Please, love, tell me… I need to know.”

She gave him one last assessing look before she pulled away. “Goodbye, Killian.”

He took a breath and let her walk away. When she was finally out of his line of sight, he closed his eyes and rested his forehead against the wall, his heart beating frantically in his chest.

Whatever it was that Emma Swan was looking, whatever it was that made striking a deal with Gold worth it, he was going to find out.

And he was going to do everything he could to deliver it to her.

/-/

After another night spent with rum and restless dreams, Killian stood at the entrance of the warehouse, willing the pounding in his head to pass. He closed his eyes and sank against the exterior wall as he pressed a bottle of cold water against his temple.

The sound of car tires on gravel had him open one eye and face the glaring morning sunlight again. He turned just as a taxi pulled around the curve and LJ got out. His leather jacket was draped over one arm and he carried a cardboard tray with a few paper cups on his free hand. His hair damp and disheveled, shirt wrinkled, and that spring in his step could only mean one thing.

“You look like you had a good time,” Killian said as LJ handed him one of the cups. The welcome scent of steaming coffee filled his senses and Killian discarded the water bottle, taking a long, slow sip of the warm beverage. It tasted burnt and bitter, making him regret all his life choices - especially this one - while he pondered how his brother could even drink this.

LJ left the rest of the tray on a nearby bench and took a sip of his coffee, his wicked smile and glinting eyes a silent answer to Killian’s comment. “You still look to be in one piece…” He twitched one side of his mouth, making a show of checking for wounds. “I thought I was going to get a call in the middle of the night and have to go pick you up at the police station.”

“I would have never dared to interrupt your much needed getting laid-time, little brother. I would have called Smee.” Killian lifted one shoulder as he ventured one more sip of the coffee. Yup, still terrible. “Besides, she doesn’t have anything on me.”

“She has you by the balls, but please, by all means, keep deluding yourself.”

Killian chuckled, tossing the poor excuse for a coffee in the trash bin. “Next time, unless it’s done by a proper barista with freshly ground coffee beans and a espresso machine, bring me tea, LJ.”

“Like you wouldn’t find a fault in any poorly steeped tea too, brother.”

Touché. Killian placed two fingers over his heart, a part of him grateful that LJ had gotten to know that side of him.

“Come on,” LJ called as he picked up the tray and tilted his head towards the front door. “Henry's cocoa is getting cold and the poor lad needs his sugar to function properly.”

He smirked as he passed LJ and opened the door and held it for him. “You two seem to be getting along well.”

LJ shrugged. “He's cool and honestly, I feel a lot more comfortable around him than some of the others. He hasn't been in the business much…”

The meaning behind the words was clear. “So anything related to the Jones name doesn't mean much to him.”

LJ gave him a shy smile. “Yeah, that's a perk.”

Killian placed a hand on his brother’s shoulder. “It's good to make friends, good friends, early in your career. People you can trust.” He looked at him and a wave of sympathy flooded him. He wanted to be that for his brother so desperately, as Liam had been for him. And yet, he understood more than anyone the need to shine for yourself, outside your family name. “You don't have to do everything alone.”

“I know… is that Smee for you?”

“Aye.”

Henry made his way towards them, his eyes almost rolling at the back of his head. “Finally, man.” He reached for the cup that LJ handed to him and took a long sip. His eyes closed, he sighed in contentment. “You even remember the cinnamon”.

Killian cocked an eyebrow, some memory poking at the back of his mind that he couldn’t place. “Cinnamon?”

LJ lifted a shoulder carelessly as he finished his coffee and tossed the cup in a nearby trash bin. “Yeah, the kid has weird taste.”

Henry gave him a challenging look. “Who are you calling weird, you nimble fingered freak?”

LJ gave him a cheesy smile, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at Henry. “Careful with the whipped cream there, Henry. We don't want you to put on weight and miss your acrobatic stunt mark over there. A lot is a stake here, maybe I should switch you to skim milk.”

Henry tossed his finished drink, puffing out his chest in his best in his best impression of a face-off. “Please, that'll never happen.” He opened his arms with an arrogant smile. “I'm too good for this.”

LJ grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and took out a bill. “Prove it, fly boy. I have a twenty that says you can’t make that jump.”

“You’re on.”

/-/

It took less than thirty minutes to set up the recreation of what would happen in the vault in a few days. Henry gave LJ a self-satisfied smile as he climbed into the cash cart.

Everyone gathered around and Killian figured it was as good a time as any to do a run-down of the operation. The rest of them might as well benefit from the bet Henry and LJ had going on.

“Alright, here’s the rundown. On the night of the fight, Poseidon’s package will arrive at the casino at 7:15. From there, LJ needs to work his magic, get the codes we need to access the elevator. At 7:30, Ariel and Eric will work their own magic and get the cart delivered, with Henry inside, into the vault. At that point we’re all in.” He paused and glanced around the room. “All-in. We can’t back up, we can’t screw up, we can’t delay. Once the vault is closed, we have thirty minutes before he suffocates.”

“Gee, you better not fuck it up, guys, or I swear I’ll haunt you from the underworld.” Henry waved as they closed the lid and Ariel and Eric rolled the cart into the vault replica.

From the corner of his eye, Killian watched as Liam entered the warehouse, his hair in the same state of dishevel as LJ’s had been, the same spring in his step. Bloody arse. Liam stood next to him and watched intently as the action unfolded.

“When the power goes down, it means that all entries to the vault and the elevator are on lock down for two minutes. And that is when we strike.”

The lights in the vault dimmed and Henry pushed the false top of the cart open, slowly removing himself from his confines. “It is going to feel like I spent days in there,” he said as he positioned himself on top of the cart.

“Alright, flyboy,” LJ teased, “we’ve left you in the middle of the room, far away from everything. There are sensors on the floor, and you need to get from where you are to the door without activating any of them. What are you going to do, hotshot? I have twenty saying you can’t make it.”

“I have ten saying you can!” Smee called.

“You can do it, Henry! I have faith in you!” Ariel cheered, clapping her hands in excitement.

Liam’s mouth twisted into a grimace, making him look nauseated. “We should all maintain some professionalism in here, this is a serious operation.”

“They are young, Liam.” Killian shrugged, pointing at Henry with a twenty to show his support. “Especially Henry and LJ. Let them live a little.” He turned to face his brother and gave him a once over from head to toe. “Speaking of living a little, did you have a nice night?”

The tips of Liam’s ears turned pink and he shuffled his feet. “It’s not what you think.”

Killian gritted his teeth. “Please Liam, don’t insult my intelligence.” He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “As long as you promise me that you can handle it.”

“I can handle it,” Liam said quickly and Killian really wanted to believe his brother, but he wasn’t sure anymore.

Their conversation in a stale point, they both turned their attention at the scene in front of them. Henry closed his eyes, took a deep breath and positioned himself in a dead squat. From there he leapt, gracefully and hands first, from the cart to a ledge in one of the walls of the vault. Sitting there, he turned around and flipped off LJ. “Drinks on you tonight, loverboy.”

The rest of the crew clapped and boomed, with Nemo congratulating them all on a job well done.

“This is all well and good, but I’m sorry to say that we are fucked.”

Everyone turned to find Milah standing there, hair a mess, her blouse misbuttoned, and mascara running down her cheeks. There was decidedly no spring in her step and her face made it clear that whomever she picked up for the night hadn’t gotten the job done.

As if to confirm Killian’s assumption, she cocked an eyebrow. “And not in a good way.” She walked towards the nearest table, her high-heeled boots clicking against the tile floor and poured herself a drink. Tossing her head back, she finished off the drink in one go and poured herself another.

“Wow, Milah, slow down, it’s not even 10 am,” Killian cautioned, moving slowly towards her. He had a few choice barbs on the tip of his tongue, but though they had parted amicably and they were friendly with one another, there were certain lines a gentleman didn’t cross with someone he’d known in the biblical sense. This was one of those lines. He’d never made a comment on Milah’s hookups and he wasn’t going to start now, unless it meant problems for their operation. Taking one last step in her direction, he took the glass from her hand. “What are you talking about?”

She started to pace, speaking a mile a minute. “These idiots. It’s a universal truth that you can count on electricity companies to be the most inefficient people ever, but no… we had to hit the jackpot of the only capable ones! Who would have thought that they would do a fucking routine inspection and took notice of the fact that you can blow up their grid lines one by one like dominoes?”

There was silence as she continued to move back and forth across the room, until Nemo shot Smee a questioning look. “Do you understand what she’s talking about?”

“Some, it seems that we will be having troubles with the planned power blow up.”

“Exactly right, my friend,” Milah agreed, jabbing her finger at Smee, the open, loose sleeve of her chiffon blouse billowing around her elbow in added emphasis. “They figured out their weakness and now they are fixing it. Like I said, we’re fucked.”

Liam scrunched his face in confusion. “Wait, how do you know all of this?”

She spun and raised an eyebrow at Liam, leaving Killian feeling oddly grateful to not have that level of fury directed at him. “Where exactly do you think I was last night? Or any of the other nights?”

Liam’s cheeks flushed. “I just thought...”

She groaned in frustration. “Oh, for crying out loud! Just because you’re all terrible horn dogs doesn’t mean I am. I’ve been trailing some of the electricity engineers and technical operators. And yes, last night I actually had to sleep with one of them so I could hack into their work orders. Which is how I know about this entire thing.”

Every last person in the room had the grace to look sheepish, but none of them dared to speak up. It was Nemo who finally ventured to break the silence. “Milah, we-”

Milah waved him off. “Yeah, you can all apologize to me later, after we figure out what the hell we’re going to do if we still want to pull this job.”

Eric turned to look at Liam. “What about-”

But Ariel interrupted him, patting his hand and shaking her head. “Not enough time.”

And that was the crux of it. There was not enough time to do a bloody thing. Coming this close to the job, being able to taste it and feel it brush against their fingertips, only to have it ripped away at the very last minute. Killian wanted to smash the entire fake vault, anything to break the sense that it was standing there mocking him.

“Unless it’s a pinch.”

All eyes turned back to Milah, who was now perched over the edge of the table, nursing a third drink.

“A what now?” Henry asked.

Milah took a sip of her drink. “It’s like a heart attack for any broadband electrical circuitry.”

Killian glanced around the room, wondering if that made any bloody sense to anyone else. Given their blank expressions, he was going with nope. Sighing deeply, Milah looked at Smee. “Can you take this one? I’m knackered and I don’t have it in me.”

Smee smiled and cleared his throat. “A pinch is an electromagnetic pulse that can shut down any power source in its vicinity. Bombs do it, but it usually goes unnoticed because of the amount of destruction that usually follows.”

“So this pinch,” Nemo asked, taking charge of the scene in a way he only knew, “could take out the power of Vegas?” Milah nodded. “For how long?”

“About thirty seconds.”

Nemo’s face twisted. “That’ll do.”

“There. Is. Only. One. Little. Tiny. Problem,” Milah punctuated each word by swaying her glass back and forth before swallowing the remainder in one gulp. “There is only one pinch in the world big enough to do this, and it sure as shit ain’t here in Vegas.”

Cold sweat ran down Killian’s neck. “Please tell me it’s in a place that is currently going through a cold wave with snow storms and high winds.”

Milah gave him an apologetic smile. “California.”

Oh for fuck’s sake. “I’m not going.”

“Killian-” Liam started but Killian was not having it.

Pulling Liam to the side, he met his brother’s eyes. “Nope. Take LJ and Henry with you. Those two are going to be better at this than me. I’m going to stay here. Smee and I have to work on the final details of the plan anyway.” He left it unsaid that he was going to have Smee look into Emma’s past and figure out what it was she was looking for. But his brother didn’t need to know that. Not now. They were already working on two fronts, he didn’t need for anyone to know he was adding a third. He could handle this. Besides, it would be good for LJ and Liam to bond a little.

“You sure about LJ? He seems green,” Liam asked, his eyes shifting to where their brother was talking with Nemo and Henry.

If you spent more time talking with him than seducing your ex-wife, maybe you wouldn’t think that. Killian shook his head as he let the thought pass. “Liam, I trust him, and you should too. We brought him here to be part of the family, didn’t we? Then let him take part in it.”

“You’re right.” Liam stepped away and moved to gather Milah, LJ, Henry, Ariel and Eric, readying them to plan their next moves and set them into motion.

With their attention focused elsewhere, Killian knew it was the perfect time to put his own plan into motion. “Smee,” he called over his friend, “I need you to look into something for me.” He pulled his phone and showed Smee a picture of Emma and Gold.

Smee’s face turned pale and before he could say anything, Killian cut him off. “Aye, it’s her and she’s here working for Gold. She’s looking for something and I need to know what that is.” He tried to hide the desperation in his voice but failed in the end, his voice cracking.

“I’ll look into it,” Smee vowed solemnly and Killian felt a lump form in his throat at his friend’s loyalty.

“Thank you, mate.”

Smee moved towards his data room, ready to work his magic and Killian turned around to assess the room. Liam and LJ were having a conversation and Killian left them, for once, to work their own relationship out. If nothing else came out of this, at least they could all be a family in the end. He spotted Henry at the side of the room, still assessing the vault and doing a slow-motion rehearsal of his moves.

“Henry! Listen, take care of yourself out there.” Killian placed his hand on Henry’s shoulder. “And take care of the others. You’ll be trapped between an obnoxious couple and a family feud, sorry about that. Just keep your head in the game. Someone other than Milah has to.”

Henry chuckled. “I will, Killian, you don’t need to worry about me. I’m not a kid.”

Killian’s heart grew two sizes in his chest. “Yes, you are. You can lie to those goody two shoes that had you at the circus, and you can even lie to yourself if you want, but you can’t lie to me, boy.” He gave the lad a reassuring smile. “The reasons for your secrets are your own and I’ll respect that, but you’re a part of us now, just as much as LJ is. We take care of our own.”

From the way Henry swallowed and how his eyes locked with Killian’s for a brief minute, his want to believe read clearly on his face. But as quickly as it came, his face shifted back to neutral, his hard armor sliding back into place. “I’m tougher than I look. I won’t break.” Yet again Killian cursed every single foster parent that had beaten the sense of love and family out of this kid. But, he reminded himself, one thing at the time.

“I know.” He patted Henry’s cheek. “Still, be careful, lad.”

He watched Henry leave and decided he’d had enough emotions for the day. It wasn’t even noon. He needed a drink. He was pouring himself a healthy dose of rum when he heard Milah’s voice call from behind him.

“Killian Jones, the overprotective brother. I thought that was Liam’s role.”

He took a sip of his drink, enjoying the slide of the liquid fire down his throat. “It seems I’ve taken a page from his book.”

He passed the drink to her and she took a sip. “Do I get the “you’re family to me” speech too?”

Killian’s eyes softened, his muscles sore from too many nights with little sleep. “You know you are. You wouldn’t be here with us if we didn’t feel like family to you too.” He reached for her hand. “Take care of them, Milah. Don’t let them do anything foolish.”

She gave him a small smile. “I’ll try. But with two Joneses in the mix, I can’t make any promises.”

#csbb #sea squad #lenfaz fics #cs ff #captain swan

32 notes · View notes