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imagines-hoarder · 3 years

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House Warming - Bucky Barnes

Summary: Hopping through some standout moments in making Bucky's apartment a place worth coming home to. (This definitely could have been a headcanon but I refuse to do headcanons at this time.)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 2.6 k

Warnings: fluff with a lil angst

A/N: I have finished all the assignments left for my degree and decided to sit down and write today. This is probably trash but idc because it has been written and therefore I may as well release it. It's been a while since I've written and years since I've truly tried dipping my foot into a different fandom, but I figured I'd give it ago. Please don't forget to leave comments, I love interacting with y'all. Thank you @bwbatta for the dividers! xoxox

Masterlist

It all started with a damn candle. A ‘sandalwood & vanilla orchid’ candle tucked away in a reused cyan jar.

“I found it at the art market down the street last weekend,” you said as you placed it in the corner of the living room window. “You know we have to support local business.”

“And I shouldn’t assume this is your way of telling me my place smells, right?” Bucky quipped from the kitchen island, a cup of coffee in his hand and a lazy smile on his face. He’d just gotten back from a 12-day mission with Sam, and the last thing he had on his to-do list was to buy candles.

The smile grew firmer as you put yourself into his arms. “Complete opposite, actually. I bought it cause I thought it smelled just like you.” You hid your face within his chest, and he thanked the stars that you couldn’t see the warmth rising in his cheeks. His barren apartment felt a little bigger with a candle in the windowsill.

From there it became decorative pillows… and a couch to hold them. The small living room had quickly become a mess by the time you both had brought it up to his fourth-floor apartment, furniture wrap and packing peanuts strewn everywhere.

“I still don’t know why you needed to buy a sofa this big,” Bucky grumbled as he leaned over the back of the beige three-seater, looking down at your splayed out across its cushions.

“Don’t get me wrong, babe. I love the transient bachelor look you’ve got going on here, but you need more furniture than an armchair,” you mumbled between heavy breaths as you tried to regain control from maneuvering the couch into the apartment.

“And the pillows?” A laugh fell from your lips as you watched him look at the indigo cushions with a remarkable amount of disdain. Who buys pillows made just to look nice on a couch?

“They add character.”

“I didn’t think character was an area we were lacking in. Transient bachelor, remember?” He walked around the couch and shifted you over so he could lay beside you. You instinctively curled into him as you both closed your eyes. For a second the place felt like home. “I also don't know how you plan for us both to fit on this couch every day along with the pillows.”

“Don’t worry about it,” You looked up from his chest with a mischievous glint that made his heart skip. “It’s a pullout bed too. I’m sure it’ll be firm enough even for you.”

The home improvements didn’t stop there, but Bucky refused to admit how much he enjoyed them.

He liked having a place and person to come home to. After you had bought neutral bedding for his room, you’d spent an evening putting together ‘his and hers’ trestle bookcases for either side of the bed. He’d try to keep up his crabbish demeanor as you argued that ‘you needed a place to set your books for when you slept over,’ and a side table could no longer contain the small collection you had spilling over. Even still, he couldn’t find it in himself to banter much about the minor changes you made to make the place feel lived in.

And God, did he love living with you around. Between missions, his continued therapy, and trying to find his place in a world that had tripled in opportunity since his youth, he knew that he never had to question who he was and where he fit in when he walked through that door. You still occasionally slept at your own apartment when he was away, but he could always count on you being asleep in his bed by the time he came home.

One toothbrush in a glass became two, and from there, hand creams, face masks, and cotton pads cluttered the bathroom counter, packed away in their clear containers. You had made sure to keep lavender bath salts on hand for the late-night baths you took together when he woke up in a panic, unable to close his eyes again for fear of falling back into a nightmare.

It took time and working through plenty of hesitation before Bucky could progress from sleeping on the pull-out sofa to the bed, but ever since, you found your nights attended by restlessness whenever you weren’t wrapped in his arms.

Once your lease was up and you had a lengthy conversation about your inability to rest without him, you quickly filled the apartment with brown boxes. Bucky had been no less than astounded by how much you fit into them. From then on, no nook or cranny was without a vase or shelf.

“How many mugs does one house need,” Bucky asked skeptically while he continued to carefully pull them from their paper wrappings.

“Oh, come on! They’re fun!” You exclaimed, wrapping an arm around his waist as you took the Charlie Brown mug from his metal palm. “Plus, we go through enough coffee around here to justify some extra mugs.”

After you put the mug into the lowest shelf of the cabinet, you busied yourself with filing away the spices one cabinet over. No matter how much he tried, Bucky couldn’t pull his eyes away from you, lost in your own world as you chipped away at unpacking your belongings, making yours his, and vice versa. The domesticity in the little things you did was something he could get used to, and he wanted to return the feeling of normalcy as much as he could. He was far from the average boyfriend, but you remind him that could be a good thing. You never wanted to be average, but in these small moments, as you both did what normal couples do, he felt that he could create a new normal with you.

“So your Christmas gift came in already, and it’s too big to hide.” Your awkward tone carried over the phone as he exited a station ten minutes away from the apartment. Even though his neck ached and the cold nipped at the top of his ears, he couldn’t stop himself from releasing a breathy laugh.

“I thought you said you were good at this gift-giving thing, doll,” he teased you as he maneuvered his way to your shared apartment.

“Oh, don’t you fret, baby. I am the best gift-giver in all of New York City. I just slightly miscalculated how big this thing was and have realized it won’t fit into our closet.”

He tsked with a smirk on his face. “If you say so.”

“Hey, you gave me my Christmas gift a week ago.”

“Yeah, that’s because I didn’t know if I’d be back before Christmas.”

“Well, you will be, and I’m glad you are,” your voice softened lovingly as he pulled out his keys to the front of the building.

Bucky had gotten used to your love, but he’d vow to never take it for granted. All the pain he’d endured had somehow led him to you, the person who didn’t see his broken pieces as a burden or a project but as a potential to be whatever he desired.

When he hung up the call and unlocked the apartment, his brows furrowed into one; the apartment was pitch black. It was only when he heard your soft footstep walking towards the entrance that his face relaxed.

Before he could even kiss you, you had your palms firmly placed over his eyes. “No peeking; your gift is in the living room.”

The uncertainty in what you could have got him made his stomach clench. “Is it an animal?”

You slowly dragged him through the front hallway, making sure to avoid crashing into the entryway storage table. “I’m sorry to say it’s not alive.”

“Is it a nice welcome-home spread with candles, fruit, and the pullout bed all set up?”

He could feel your eyes roll to completion. “Easy there, sergeant. That’s for later.” You pulled him down to sit on the couch, and he kept his eyes closed as you pulled your palms away, moving to turn on a lamp. “Okay, Buck. open up.”

When he opened his eyes, it took him a moment to understand what he was seeing nestled against the wall; when he did recognize it, he could only form two words “Holy shit.”

“Holy shit indeed.”

He was quick to stand up and cross the room, eager to get a good look at the walnut centerpiece. “Does it work?”

You scoffed as you moved to kiss his cheek. “What kind of girlfriend would get her ancient boyfriend a broken phonograph console?”

He didn’t even attempt to answer as he bent down to wrap his arms around you, his lips eager to find yours. “A fucking Magnavox radio and phonograph,” he mumbled against your lips.

“A working Magnavox radio and phonograph, you mean.” When you pulled away and saw that his face held a glow reserved only for special occasions, you knew you had made the right choice. “I’ve got some records wrapped up if you want to open those now too.”

You yelped in surprise as he picked you up and made his way towards your bedroom. “I’ve got something else I’d like to unwrap first.”

Bucky Barnes had grown up in a period when the average family could seldom afford nice things or much of anything at all. The Great Depression has resulted in the slogan ‘Make it do or Do without,” being ingrained into what memories he still had, and 'doing without' had become commonplace for the Barnes household.

That’s why every gadget and gizmo you added to your household left him in awe. For much of his life, including the decades he spent as a weapon for Hydra, he hadn’t been allowed to call anything his own; he was still getting used to living so plentifully, both in love and in life. But now, he could barely move and he thought it had all been taken away from him.

The attack was supposed to have been contained, at least three miles away from the apartment. Anything less, and he would have made you visit your family upstate instead of just suggesting it. By the time Sam had told him that there’d been some confirmed damage within a block of the apartment, Bucky was already on his way home. He couldn’t think of anything but the worse: you trapped in a collapsing apartment building or pulling up to find no building there at all.

He felt his lungs fill with air again as he pulled up to your building, completely intact regardless of the severe damage less than a five-minute walk away. It felt like both seconds and hours between when he parked his outside and unlocked the front door.

“He doesn’t have his phone on him, mom. How am I supposed to…” you trailed off from your call as he walked into the living room, turning your head away from the Breaking News report you’d been glued to for the last hour. “Wait, I’ll call you back. Yeah, I’m fine. I’ll call you back.” Your eyes never left his as he walked over to you, hanging up the phone with worry in your eyes. “Buck, are you oka-”

You couldn’t even finish your sentence before he pulled you off of the couch and into his arms. His grip was less reserved than he usually kept, but he made sure not to hurt you, eager to keep you in his arms, where he knew you were safe. A single tear fell from the corner of his eyes as he realized the real possibility that he could have lost you if you lived even 5 minutes closer to the attack. You stayed like that for a while, gathered tightly in his arms as you both settled onto the floor You didn’t push him to verbalize his fear; you already understood it. And it took this occurrence for him to realize he never wanted to experience this feeling again.

Bucky was quiet for the rest of the evening, and while it worried you, his fear had been evident enough not to require questioning. The city-wide cleanup had lasted all hours of the night; for the first time in all the years you had lived in the city, the sounds of the whirring of vehicles clearing debris off the street had been too close to ignore. The sun was rising before a single word was said between you and Bucky, tangled together on the sofa as the first ray of light made itself known.

“You’ve spent so much time piecing this place together, doll.” His voice was raspy. You know he hates when you see him cry, but his pain was always evident in his voice. “And it could have been all wiped away in seconds.” You let a heavy silence settle between you as you traced a pattern into his shoulder. He couldn’t bear to say it, but you knew what he meant: You could have been gone within seconds. “I just… I don’t ever want to feel like this again.”

You’d both gone through so much to make your relationship work. Nearly normal was as close as you would ever attain to being an average couple. The distance, the days without contact, and the ever-present fear that anything could pull you away from one another was something that had taken time to work through.

You looked around the living room and saw the place you had built together. There were photos and books scattered on any flat surface, a leftover mug half-filled with cold tea, and a record left out on the phonograph. The apartment looked like what love felt like; a messy combination of everything you and Bucky. But this apartment could not contain everything that ‘home’ was; only Bucky could do that.

The words fell from your mouth before you could restrain them. “Maybe we should move.”

Your eyes found each other, and you both sat in silence, though it felt lighter, invigorated with the new proposition.

Before he even responded, you could see tension dissolve from his shoulders. “Where do you want to move?”

You hadn’t thought that far ahead, only being able to provide him with a shrug. “I don’t know… maybe upstate, maybe somewhere else.”

“Your mom would like you being Upstate.”

“My mom would love us living next door too, but I don’t see that in the cards anytime soon.” You got a ghost of a smile for that.

“We could probably afford a house if we moved out there,” he said as he moved his lips to meet your forehead.

“Buck, I’d move anywhere with you. As long as we have each other, then we have all we need to rebuild this place.”

He pressed soft kisses to the crown of your head, and you swore you felt his chest flutter. “Tomorrow, I’m gonna look for some places, bigger ones too.” He tilted your head up to find your eyes, and you were sure that all of the love you carried for each other was incredibly visible at that moment. “You have made this apartment something worth coming home to. Now let me give you a house to make a home.” Your skin tingled with adoration as you pulled him as close as possible, burying your face into his neck.

You didn’t want to let go. You wanted to lay in this room, in this bed, and in this moment until the end of time, but you knew that something bigger and better was on the horizon for you and Bucky.

“All I heard is that you’re buying me a house.” His laugh was music to your ears.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes drabble #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

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jadekitty777 · 3 years

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On Your Six, Chapter 5

Day 5: Mission Go- Cooking for @taiqrowweek

Wait what do you mean I switched the prompt days around? Dunno what you’re talking about ;)

(Don’t worry it’ll make more sense in the long run)

Rating: T for this chapter, M for overall

Words: 2.5k

Summary: Qrow was what most of society would call a small-town criminal. But to those oppressed, he hoped only to be a healer. In an effort to make a change in the world, he moves from kingdom to kingdom, searching for branded omegas in need. His goal? To turn the derogatory words the reformatories forced them to bear on their skin into works of art.

Then one day, his past catches up to him in the form of Taiyang, his former best friend, with a brand of his own stained onto his skin and a plea for help in his eyes. Qrow has no choice but to answer, even if it means he’d have to face his mistakes once and for all.

[An ABO-style universe in a modern-day style Remnant. No Grimm, because people are the real monsters in this one]

Ao3 Link: On Your Sleeve

Tai had started feeding him.

At first, it had begun with little things, shortly following that fateful day he gave him the picture. Prepackaged snacks or fresh fruits or vegetables as a healthy addition to the cheap, instant lunch meals he could easily afford. Then it quickly dissolved into tubberware covered leftovers of various pastas or stews, things that kept well and were well adept at making in large servings.

By late May, with the advent of Qrow’s twenty-sixth birthday, Tai arrived at his place loaded with grocery bags, a proper skillet and a determined purpose to make his favorite dish of chicken curry. It was, hands down, one of the best meals he’d had in years.

Yet, even after the occasion passed, the trend continued until it seemed Sunday became the day his stomach most looked forward too. Normally, Qrow would put up a fight about being doted after – Tai wouldn’t be the first omega to develop the habit. The most prominent of whom had been Maria, whose sessions had to be shorter than most both due to her age and the difficulty working with thinner, more wrinkled skin.

But she had also been a grandmother. A feisty one, who smacked him on the head a lot with her cane, but was also kind and worried and constantly remarking on his too-thin frame until he just gave up and let her do whatever she wanted.

But with Tai, he couldn’t even manage to feign annoyance. In part because Tai’s cooking was damn good and he’d be a fool not to gobble it up at every opportunity. But also, because it gave an excuse for their sessions to run long.

He didn’t even think it was a one-sided endeavor. Beyond the innate omega instinct to care for and Tai’s naturally generous personality, there was a loneliness in those blue eyes that told the truth behind all the fumbled attempts to waste time or make breaks run longer. By July, Tai wasn’t leaving his place until at least ten at night.

Neither of them complained about the arrangement.

Then August rolled around, and Qrow had an absolutely foolish idea.

The first Sunday of the month was on the 5th and it passed with little incident or notice. They were back at the first of the designs, arguably the most complex with the amount of color layers needed, so their dinner was nothing fancy. Just simple sandwiches and side salads, so most of their time could be spent under the needle instead.

He’d banked on that happening so that what would happen next wouldn’t have a chance of paling in comparison.

You busy tonight? He messaged early Wednesday.

Tai responded a few hours later, probably when his first break popped up. No. Why?

Come over after work. I have something to give you. He replied after he’d finished with his client for the day, sometime early afternoon.

The final response was cheeky and towards the end of the school day. You’re about as subtle as a brick.

Almost at 6 P.M. on the dot, there was a knock on his door.

“Coming!” Qrow called, dancing between the kitchen and the table to make sure everything was perfectly in place. He gave it all a satisfactory nod, then hurried over, sliding the door open only enough so he could wedge between it and the threshold, blocking Tai’s view.

The omega looked different, fresh out of work. His blond hair had been lightly gelled, just enough to give it a bit of bounce. The casual wear he was normally in was swapped out for a more professional look; pants and a collared shirt ironed of any wrinkles and shoes shined enough they gleamed.

So of course his eyes fell onto the one thing that completely ruined the look with a teasing snort. “Nice tie, Tai.”

“You like it?” He grinned, pulling at the absolutely hideous yellow abomination that was covered in yapping cartoon corgis. “The kids love ‘em. They call me the Funny Tie Guy.”

Oh Gods. “Bet you get a kick out of it every time.”

“I literally can knot get enough of it.” Tai had the nerve to wink as he said it too.

Qrow groaned. “You are so lucky it’s your day. Speaking of-” He swung the door open, revealing the room with a flourish.

Admittedly, it wasn’t much. Still, it was satisfying to see the way Tai’s face lit up with joy as he spotted the modest little table set for two, dinner already set in their bowls and the most expensive white wine he could reasonably afford already poured. The omega looked from it to him, grin growing, “You did all this?”

“Yeaaah.” Qrow flushed, trying to hide his anxiety. He’d never been great with giving gifts. “Happy birthday ya big lug.”

Tai laughed, throwing an arm over his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. “Thank you. This is just what I wanted.”

He could have stayed there forever – but he didn’t work himself to death to let dinner go cold. He pat his back, mindful of the healing wounds, and said, “Let’s eat.”

Qrow’s relationship with cooking was disjointed and the spread seemed to reflect that. The fried rice was perfect; it was one of the first things his mother taught him how to make on the stove. The garlic broccoli, more of a staple in the Xiao Long family, had a bit of crunch where some of the pieces hadn’t fully cooked through because he hadn’t had Tai beside him to remind him to stir. Just like the many other easy things he helped him learn how to make when he found out he and Raven had been living off nothing but white rice and peanut butter sandwiches for months.

The moo shu pork was the trickiest and most complicated dish by far and nothing he’d ever even attempted before. His amateur hand left it looking a bit of a mess as they poured it onto the tortillas. Unpretty as it was in presentation and lacking a few of the pricier ingredients like oyster sauce and sesame oil, the marinade had the pork still bursting with flavor.

The wine was there to act as a garnish to make the food seem better than it was. Which was probably why Qrow kept pouring it until he and Tai had split two and a half glasses between each other. Either that, or because Tai was adorably chatty when he was tipsy.

“So, there we are, watching about thirty of these Fayblades spinning around, knocking into each other and some of the cheaper ones are falling apart. Everything is going too fast for any of us to do the math problems on them. And Missy and I just look at each other like we both just realized what a horrible mistake we made. It was only the first week back and I was pretty sure we were about to lose an eye or something.” As he told the story, Tai animatedly gestured around with his glass, liquid sloshing almost past the rim. “We get the kids to back up until they all stop. Then Missy starts gathering a few up, saying how this time we would try less so we can actually keep count – when Velvet speaks up from the back and says ‘Blue wins 124 to 90’.”

Qrow polished off his own glass, setting it on the table. “That’s the quiet one with the rabbit in her bag, right?”

“Mmhmm. She kind of tries to hide when everyone starts looking at her, so I don’t say anything right then. Just take it as fact and move on. But when recess comes around, I pull her aside and ask her how she knew the answer. And she tells me, completely serious mind you, that she’s a camera. So it was easy to do all the math when she basically had the pictures saved in her head. And I’m like, holy shit!” He taps his temple for emphasis. “She has a photographic memory.”

“Ain’t that just a myth?” He asked, starting to gather the empty dishes.

Tai waved him off. “Pfft. Qrow, you gotta stop thinking like the world’s just a big science textbook. It’s more like a-a fairytale! Where magic can happen at any moment.”

“Tai, you’re drunk.”

“I am not!” This time, when he gestured, some of the wine hit the table. He blinked down at it. “Ah, shit!”

He laughed. “Man, you still can’t hold your liquor.”

“You dishonor me.” The omega accused, pointing to his right hand as if it were an exhibit. “I’m holding it just fine.”

That only made him laugh harder, until he had to wipe tears from the corners of his eyes.

Somehow, they found themselves laying side by side on the bed, shoulders pressed together. Tai’s scroll was balanced between the head of the bed and the wall, the display playing the finale of their favorite show growing up, Silver Eyes. It was the height of the final battle. Rosette was locked in battle with Bastinda while the rest of her friends lay, unconscious or ensnared in traps, around them.

“Do you not yet see how pointless this all is? How my power eclipses you all?” Bastinda snarled as she swung her wand down. “You’re all just insignificant riffraff!”

Rosette seemed to find some strength, blocking the attack with her broadsword. “You’re wrong! No one is insignificant! Even the smallest of us has something good to contribute.”

“Foolish child!” A powerful gravity spell threw Rosette to the ground, knocking her sword out of her hand.

“Gods,” Qrow griped. “This is cheesier than I remember.”

Tai shushed him. “Hush, the best part’s coming up!”

He rolled his eyes, but his traitorous mouth smiled all the same. Alright, so maybe this part was pretty hype. Watching it play out again on the screen, he felt ten again, practically glued to screen as his excitement built.

A large shadow stretched across the valley, delaying the witch from striking the final blow as she turned to the source. Up on the hill, sun behind him, was Zwei. Rosette’s little corgi that had been with her from the start of the show. He came racing down the hill, stubby little legs barely able to pick up speed.

Bastinda sneered, pointed her wand at the dog. “Pathetic.”

“Zwei, no!!” Rosette cried, tears filling her eyes just as the blast fired.

It seemed like the end for the lovable pup as smoke filled the air.

And then, with a blast of light, something came flying out of the dust and landing before the witch. The world rumbled under powerful paws as the giant white wolf stood before her, letting out a powerful growl that brought her to her knees.

“I don’t believe it!” Blanca cried from her mirror prison. “Zwei’s a Guardian!”

The rest of the finale played out just as he remembered, Zwei turning the tide of the fight and giving Rosette a chance to free her friends, all of them coming together for one final attack that rid the world of the cruel witch once and for all. After that, the wolf turned back into the lovable and more marketable corgi pup, and everyone headed home to enjoy true peace for the first time in a millennium.

Tai sat up as the credits began to roll, stretching his arms above his head. “I still think it holds up pretty well.”

“Sure, if you ignore the fact they completely sidelined Silver Eyes. It’s only the title of the show.” He snarked.

“Come on now. It’s not about the power ups. It’s about the journey and the-”

“Friends they made alone the way.” He mimed gagging. It was only the motto shoved down his throat at the end of almost every episode.

Tai merely laughed at his antics, picking up his scroll and slipping off the bed. “It’s late. I better head home.”

Maybe it was the vestiges of the alcohol or maybe it was the other’s scent, sweeter and more inviting than usual, that loosened his tongue enough to offer, “You could crash here, if you want.”

“In your bed? We hardly fit.”

Acquiescently, he rolled onto his side, practically shoving himself against the wall as he pat the wide, empty space. “It’ll be fine. And your drunk.”

“Hardly. And I’ll have to get up early to get back home and get ready.”

“It’s fine.” The noise left him involuntarily. It wasn’t a growl, really; it was barely more than a rumble. Regardless, the regret hit him instantly as he bit down on his tongue and turned his face up apologetically.

The omega just arched a brow, entirely unaffected and unimpressed by his pitiful display. Then he chuckled, any meteor-sized tension there could have been burning up long before impact could be made. “Gods, you’re such a punk, you know that?”

“I…uh…”

“Alright, you win.” Tai set the alarm on his scroll with his right hand, while he crossed the room and got the lights with his left. He used the glow coming off of the device to find his way back, dropping it onto the nightstand. In the bits of moonlight coming from the window, Tai became an erotic beauty as he undid his tie and buttons, shrugging out of his shirt. His belt hit the ground next – though mercifully he kept his pants on.

Qrow watched him, utterly transfixed, as he lowed himself to the bed, mattress dipping anew with the readded weight as the omega stretched out onto his stomach. Beyond all comprehension, he had to fight every muscle in his body from reaching for him. The need to bring him close and curl around him was overwhelming. So, he shoved his hands underneath the crook of his neck and locked his elbows.

Why had he thought this was a good idea again?

Tai heaved out a long sigh, mumbling, “Goodnight Qrow.”

He swallowed, voice barely above a whisper as he responded, “G’night.”

Without a clock in the room, there was no telling how long he lay there, coiled up tight like a spring waiting for the pressure to come loose, listening to the sounds of Tai’s breathing slowly evening out. It wasn’t until Qrow was absolutely certain the other wouldn’t wake that he risked it.

Though it felt a bit reprehensible, it was with that same uncontrolled desire in which he found himself scooting his upper half forward, inch by agonizing inch, until the bridge of his nose was pressed up against the curve of Tai’s shoulder.

His eyes slipped shut, breathing in deeply. The omega’s scent swirled around him, sunflowers and soil and bright summer days; a smell that was unmistakably, irrevocably Tai.

Here. With him.

Slowly, the rigidity to his muscles relaxed and he finally drifted off, the scent embracing him as securely as its owner could.

#qrow branwen #taiyang xiao long #Taiqrow #taiqrowweek #rwby #fanfiction #Chase Firekitten's Tale

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jayjaysocks · 4 years

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Listing my favorite animes (because I’m jumping on the bandwagon)

❗️⚠️ *spoilers!! (Duh)* ❗️⚠️

5. Deadman Wonderland

I was really really sad when I found out this anime got cancelled. The music was fantastic, the animation was really good, and the voice acting was incredible. Even the fucking dubbed version (I loved the voice they chose for Senji. God he was hilarious). I binged this show so fucking fast it wasn’t even funny. I loved watching the characters go through their own struggles and grow as people in the very small amount of episodes provided. There was a lot of development within the snippet that we actually saw, and I was thoroughly impressed with how well it was done. I wanted to scream or something when I found out there wouldn’t be a second season.

Sigh. Oh well. At least we got some of the manga’s masterpiece translated into a show, even if we were missing some fucking awesome characters.

4. Guilty Crown

Ugh, don’t even get me started. This anime was beautiful and I got so invested so freaking quickly. I literally go back every few years to rewatch it because I get ship starved.

Shu and Inori’s story was so beautifully done; between Shu uncovering his courage and Inori’s journey of self-discovery, I was continuously awe-struck and filled with feelings—I mean, I had never felt such raw emotion while watching something and I was completely blown away by the affect it had on me. Anger, hatred, sadness, it was all there (even for the main character lmao) and it was one of the first times I had ever felt a ship so heavily that I literally cried at the end. It was one of the very first Animes I’d ever seen and was one of the reasons I got such a taste for them. Thanks for throwing me down that rabbit hole, GC.

3. Soul Eater

This was literally the first Anime I’d ever seen, and my god I couldn’t have asked for a better starter. What I like about this one is that it’s style is so unique and different. It’s very punk and grunge, something I admired and appreciated in a genre that is normally the opposite (like Guilty Crown, for example). Also the fight scenes were badass, like holy shit just look at that gif ??? Freaking amazing.

I loved the way the show transitioned from light hearted to intense and adrenaline pumping so effortlessly. That can be said about a lot of shows, but this one went from *haha cute show* to *holy shit, like they’re actually gonna die ohmygod howaretheygoingtosurvivethis* so smoothly I was genuinely surprised. They made one of the main villains actually cool and each character had their own beautifully done arc. I loved and adored how the show solidified and expanded on the different friendships/relationships that were involved—specifically Soul and Maka’s (also, holy shit, Stein’s arc? Fucking prime, dude). There was a lot of growth in each and every friendship (CRONA!!!), and that really pushed the viewer to invest in the individual characters.

I am fucking delighted that this was my first anime, and (though the ending was a little anticlimactic) it remains one of my top favorites to this day. It set the bar pretty fucking high, and for that I am extremely greatful.

No one asked for Soul Eater: Not! It is the unspoken sin of the Soul Eater world (then again, it is called Soul Eater: Not!)

2. Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood

If you have been following me for a while, then you are no stranger to my love of FMAB. Some of my most popular posts are about this anime, and for good reason.

Unfortunately, I was late to the party. I actually didn’t watch this until last year, but got invested really damn quick. I have a tendency to be extremely picky about the animes that I watch/like (which is why NONE of these shows are that recent), to the point that I will literally research them before I start watching (a bad habit, do not copy me). I have an incomparably hard time finishing a show when I start, because I get bored really quickly, but this was an exception. I started watching and I just... didn’t stop. I spent a straight week watching FMAB, gobbling it up during any small amount free time I could manage, and finished it before I even knew what happened. I wasn’t picky about it, I didn’t research it, I just dove right in and gosh, I was not disappointed.

The subtle romance that was alluded throughout the entire show was super cute, the devotion the brothers had for each other was to die for, and the struggles that each person went through was more than moving. I never once found myself bored while watching, and that’s saying a lot for my adhd ass. I was invested in each and every second of that damn anime and I was never, ever left underwhelmed. That probably had to do with the fact that every. Single. Character. Had a purpose. I’m not even kidding. Every single person contributed to the big fight at the end and that alone is fucking fantastic.

Not to mention ALL the women, every female character, was a badass bitch. None of them were reduced to sex appeal or romantic subplot, they all had real feelings, real arcs and real, unadulterated badassery that I thoroughly admired and appreciated. I could watch this anime over and over again every single month and I wouldn’t get bored. Between the emotional struggle, self discovery, and personal development of each character, I promise you will not see a lack of plot or meaning here. The more you watch, the more you discover and that is not a lie. There are so many layers to its story, which only makes me wish I had watched this sooner.

There is nothing I have to offer in the ways of criticism, and for that I couldn’t be happier. Thank you, Hiromu Arakawa, for such an incredible piece of art. You deserve every bit of love that this manga/anime gets. You go girl.

1. Cowboy Bepop

Holy shit holy shit holy shit this anime is so fucking good and it has been my favorite for so damn long. I have been watching anime for years, and while some of the shows in my list have moved around, this one has yet to be bumped down from the top (and I doubt it ever will). There’s a reason it became such a cult classic.

For starters, the animation. I mean, just look at Spike and the way they animate his fighting (yes I am aware that this gif is from the movie, but that still doesn’t change my point). The sequences in the show/film have been reused in many other shows and for good reason. It’s good, incredible, actually and they make him look so badass with just a few hand movements. I was consistently impressed with the way the fight scenes were portrayed and wasn’t ever left underwhelmed or disappointed (or, for that matter, feeling like they completely over exaggerated/overcompensated the scene with huge close-ups and tons of debris and lights). I loved watching this and my heart was always pounding with every intense interaction. I didn’t feel bored during any of the episodes and always found myself laughing when they cracked a joke—pretty much all of their funny lines hit and that’s saying something, dude.

The show, while having a lighthearted surface, has a heavy meaning that you don’t see at first glance. It’s about dealing with grief and loss, and how the characters themselves accomplished that in different ways. The most prominent quote is the biggest indication of its moral “you’re gonna carry that weight”. Basically: ‘You’ve gotta pick up your baggage, because the world moves on, with or without you’. Or ‘You’re going to carry that weight whether you like it or not, because life keeps going’. When I figured out the show’s actual message, while staring at my ceiling in the long hours of the night, I almost cried. This realization brought something entirely different to the table, a new understanding of the show’s characters and overall essence.

The main characters, all of them, had depth. They had real, palpable depth, and even if you didn’t want to care you found yourself seriously interested in their lives. Each of them had relatively shitty pasts. Faye with her lost memories, Spike with Julia and the people who fucked him over, Jet with his old flame and the ISSP, Ed and her/his father... throughout the entire show we got to see how all of them dealt with these things, whether they wanted to continue on with life or not. The way they portrayed it was engaging, because the characters individual, contrasting journeys weren’t repetitive or one note. The beauty that the show holds so achinging close to its core, the layers of grief that the characters are wrapped in so delicately is almost suffocatingly real—because they’re all different. It’s something you discover when you think on the subject in a deeper light, which is another reason why I enjoy it so much. It has both a surface story and a deeper one. You can either take the show at face value or choose to understand the underlying moral.

This show inspired my very first, thoroughly fleshed out OC, and continues to inspire me to this day. It has contributed to my own personal growth, and has helped push me to continue my art and writing. It is beautifully written, beautifully executed and even though some of the episodes seem like filler, it has never disappointed me. I rewatch it all the time because there’s something so infinitely refreshing about the beauty of this anime, whether it be the way we watch the characters develop or the overall moral it portrays. This show has given us a message that is essentially timeless, it can be ‘carried’ through generation after generation, and still have the same impact—something I absolutely fucking adore.

I owe so much to this anime, including my very own artistic development. I discovered it during a really shitty time in my life and I couldn’t have asked for better timing. I will never tire of the bittersweet message or the thoroughly fucking fantastic animation. Everyone who contributed to this masterpiece deserves love, because it’s seriously fucking gold.

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natsunoomoi · 3 years

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Holy crap. So like with the previous post I was thinking about Fushigi Yuugi again and kind of checking up on what was up with Byakko Senki cuz I haven’t checked on it in awhile and it looks like it’s on hiatus right now and she’s working more on Arata Kangatari, which is cool cuz I thought she finished that, but I guess not and she just took a break to like finish Genbu and do Byakko or something.

But also I was scrolling through her Twitter to find that she is really into this Chinese movie “Legend of Luo Xiaohei” and so I was checking that out cuz so ironic that Japanese mangaka that got her big break writing manga about an ancient China setting is interested in a Chinese movie. So just looking through her Twitter thread and apparently she found out about Luo Xiaohei from watching a CM while watching Modao Zushi. LMAO It’s amazing, but this situation just feels like an ouroboros eating itself because I have a high suspicion that her work on Fushigi Yuugi imported into China back in the 90s was probably a huge influence on Chinese creators and artists to write their own stories about their culture and helped to popularize the xianxia and wuxia novel movements in more modern times. On top of that MXTX said she was inspired by a D. Gray-man fanfic and while she mentioned that title specifically, I think in the periphery Fushigi Yuugi itself and more recently Arata were probably an influence too. Growing up a number of my Chinese friends also said they got into anime overall because of Fushigi Yuugi because it was an anime and work from Japan about their culture and arguably done pretty damn well.

In terms of the danmei movement as well, I’m pretty sure Fushigi Yuugi was included in what started the movement as the movement was influenced by Japanese BL that came in via Taiwan, and the beginning of Fushigi Yuugi had the whole thing between Nuriko and Hotohori even though that kind of went nowhere, Nuriko dies to everyone’s depression (I have several friends who refuse to watch the rest of the series after Nuriko dies because it’s not the same), and that whole ship goes off a weird deep end with Hotohori marrying a woman that looks like Nuriko. Also, the exact reasons for Nuriko being in the harem and all that. There was a whole lot of shipping in the 90s from Fushigi Yuugi and it was one of the first series that had a male cast that was almost entirely ikemen and I think the actual first reverse harem. A number of shows probably simultaneously popularized the female gaze in mainstream anime, but Fushigi Yuugi was definitely one of them. Like literally one or two years before there was a lot of manly men and guy’s guys kind of anime characters, but beautiful ikemen, no, not really. In 2021, there are some things about the series that are a bit problematic, but it’s influence on the world is pretty significant. It was one of the first shows I’d seen that had any kind of reference to homosexuality or transgender in it and although it’s not necessarily portrayed well, the fact that it was there and that Nuriko was such a beloved character it started a conversation and helped us to get to a time where the topics she represents can be more discussed. I’m actually not even sure what pronouns would be appropriate for Nuriko because of her reasons for what she did and in Japanese the pronoun problem is actually really easy to get around because you just don’t have a subject or speaking in 3rd person is totally normal. But still, without her the minds of thousands or even millions of fans around the world would not have been opened as early to LGBT topics. Her existence, even problematic as it might be, allowed people to consider and love a character of a different sexual orientation or gender identity than their own and just open their minds to just not being a homophobic, biphobic (cuz relationship with Miaka?), or transphobic piece of shit.

Then also Genbu Kaiden and Uruki’s powers. Yeah.... I mean, also kind of with the earlier discussion, the idea of dual cultivation I don’t recall even being brought up much before in most media, but such ideas were also banned and repressed in China at a certain point. Documentation shows it was more of an ancient practice that suddenly became known about again. The book I was talking about that has it more explicitly written is banned in China has its only original surviving copy in the Japanese National Library as it was one of the books brought to Japan by scholars escaping persecution in China and bringing with them books to escape one of the many episodes of mass book burning. According to my Chinese lit professor who had us read an English translation of that book as a part of our curriculum anyway. Supposedly the translator of said book had to go to Japan to read the original in order to write the translation. There’s apparently a number of ancient Chinese texts like that because book burnings were a thing at different points in Chinese history, so if you are a scholar of Chinese lit if you want a complete picture of your field for some texts you do actually have to come to Japan to do your research. But yeah, that power mentioned in that very book Watase-sensei gave to Soi, and also the story of Fushigi Yuugi takes place in that very library that contains that ancient copy of a banned and would have been lost to the world book. If you’re asking why a “dirty” book would be something a scholar would grab to save, ancient lit scholars do regard it as a rather well-written piece of literature even though the content of it is basically taboo.

But also the Fushigi Yuugi Suzaku Ibun game is a hot mess when it comes to this same issue because if you romance Nuriko you can save her from death and my friend Hikari said she wasn’t sure if she was happy about fucking with the universe like that. (I’m not either.) Nuriko’s death was such a huge impact on the story and everything. Also, notably, most of the Suzaku Shichiseishi died, but Nuriko had the LONGEST tribute. Like Chiriko and Mitsukake’s was like a tag on of a few minutes. Hotohori’s was too even, but it was addressed more in the later manga chapters the publisher pressured her to write and in the OVA series afterward.

Also, like Fushigi Yuugi other than the Neverending Story was one of the original sucked into a book holy shit how do I survive stories. Idk if SVSSS is influenced by it in that way, but it’s fair to draw the parallels because of the similar theme. It’s just canonically Taiitsu Shinjin is not behind the the system in the book and in a number of ways Shen Yuan is more competent than Miaka. Miaka gets a lot of shit though and when I re-watched FY a second time I actually found the gripes people generally have about it make up only a small part of the series. People just talk it up so much that it seems like a huge thing when it’s not. Plus the technical canon is only the original TV series because that’s where Watase wanted to end the story and that is an emotional rollercoaster that makes you cry so good. But like there’s some other kinds of parallels as well like how toward the end and like the last two episodes you hate Nakago up until the exact moment you find out why he’s an absolute asshole, and characters straight up criticizing him about how he’s an asshole the whole damn series just gives the same kind of feels that SY gave criticizing the original throughout SVSSS. Can’t say for sure, but Fushigi Yuugi has a lot of clout in a general sense.

But yeah, Watase-sensei said that she was really surprised by the animation quality of Chinese animation these days and she thought Japanese anime was going down in comparison. Same, yo. Same. But still, her work was probably a huge contributor to the movement that allowed MDZS to exist because her art is damn beautiful, Chinese influenced, and she had one of the first works in Asia to like bring the subject of LGBT issues into the mainstream after years of oppression from mostly Western influence because in pre-modern Asia no one gave a shit before and there’s a significant amount of classical novels that address some form of LGBT issues at least in Japanese lit and like even academic documentation that notes Confucius saying that doing it with a guy was better than with a woman. And the author of the work that probably was very influential to BL back in the 90s watches MDZS. She noted that there wasn’t any in the actual anime, which is true, but I think she helped that series to exist and she watches the anime so it’s kind of exciting.

I hope it influences her to go finish Byakko, but OMG I want her to finish Arata too because I like Arata. I should try to find time to read more of it because the anime is too short and the wiki descriptions of what’s happening are so damn confusing and incomplete.

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luobingmeis · 5 years

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share your mama thoughts!!!! (if you would like to)

you’re gonna look at these and, within 2.5 seconds, say “wow jords the self-projection is strong tn”

or more so “wow jords we really see the dynamics that u yearn for and yet cannot find so u project them onto fictional characters who u look up to in a way u can’t quite understand”

post-writing notes: this got way longer than i expected (the jords ohsweetflips story), so this is going under the cut, but enjoy my huge mama backstory headcanons!!!

first things first, i hc mama as a lesbian, bc i am a lesbian, and i feel very attached to mama, so i hc her as a lesbian (but also i believe that anyone can hc her to be anything that they damn well please)

and, forgive me, i don’t know shit abt west virginian geography, but i think she grew up in a town like aubrey’s? like i know we didn’t get a lot of description of aubrey’s younger life outside her home, but i kinda see mama as having this “old money” type homelife

and bc i, jords ohsweetflips, wish i had a group of lesbian friends so that i could’ve had some guidance in my teen years, i hc that, in her town, she found her way into the small yet secure lesbian “scene” that was just a couple girls around her age (i see her as 15 at this time, with others ranging 15-18) along with a couple who were, like, 19/20

and tbh, just the vibe i get from mama and how she seems much more inclined towards found family than blood relatives, i don’t think she had the nicest folks so, when she came out, that was it, you know?

and tbh i completely see mama (well, madeline at this point) as someone who is very like “i don’t need help, i can do things on my own,” even as a young teen, so i think for, like, a week or two, she did the whole “on her own” things

but bc her friends were absolute angels, and also found out that she had been essentially homeless, two of the girls who are 19 and 20 and have an apartment are like “fuck no, you’re staying with us”

and madeline is at first like “no, really, i’m fine” but the thought of an actually loving home is too tempting to ignore

so from the ages of 15 to 18, she lives with her friends!!! she was fairly good at art at this point so she was able to get some in to the local galleries and shops and make some money off of it, and then when she was around 17, her friends were able to get her a job bussing at the bar they worked in

she also liked to whittle a lot!!! she made a lot of ducks

she was 18 when she decided to move out, and that’s when she heard of kepler. or, more so, she heard of it from another one of her friends who dubbed it as “a place fit for you, mads”

so she managed to save up enough money for an apartment and she moved out of her hometown and absolutely the friends she lived with cried their eyes out when they were helping her move in and tbh even madeline got a bit teary eyed bc they were like family, you know?

and so basically, from the ages of 18-24, she lived in kepler and got her bearings and this was when she started to get really into wood carving!!! she was able to get some pieces out there and get some recognition and, by her mid20s, she was actually making decent money, or at least enough to not be living paycheck to paycheck

in this phase of living in kepler, i think she was in a very “people knew her but she didn’t know them that well” just bc i don’t see her as the type of person to be a “social butterfly”? i think she mostly, tho, became friendly with the man who ran kepler’s local coffee shop, and the wives who owned the little dipper back before it was the hornet’s nest. she’s also def met leo and thacker, but only in passing, mostly. i think, once she got closer to her late 20s/early 30s, she would have heard of duck and juno but, in her being 18-24, they were probably still kids/young teenagers.

WAIT I CAN’T FORGET 1980S MAMA AESTHETIC: whole lot of jackets. she did a lot of thrift shopping so she has so many huge jackets. lot of denim. and leather. work boots. flannel. patches. are you picking up on the self projection yet.

and then, in november of 1988, when she was 24, the gate went up. she encountered her first abomination by accident. she had been out in the woods, just trekking back to her apartment and deciding to take the scenic route, when all of a sudden.... one of the smaller trees started moving? and she was like “well that’s not what trees do” and then she saw that the tree had a jagged mouth dripping with sap and branches acting like long, clawed hands, and she was like “well that ain’t no normal tree”

i don’t have my Big Brave Madeline “Mama” Cobb Origin Battle Story yet but she definitely just chopped the shit out of the tree and it managed to work

i think it would be Very Funny if, very shortly after that, her first sylph was barclay. like, i have a feeling that age works a bit different for sylphs, and honestly i have no clue where they would get the disguises from? maybe heathcliff? but the thought of madeline running into Literal Bigfoot and barclay, maybe like 20yo in sylph age, being like “WAIT DON’T KILL ME” bc this young woman already looks ready for leather is very entertaining

and that’s when mama learns abt the sylphs, and how they’re not abominations, and barclay shows her the gate

and also yes barclay absolutely stays in her apartment except he is So Hidden bc imagine the chaos of Literal Bigfoot being in her apartment! hysterical!

but, soon, mama crosses over into sylvain and figures out Everything that has gone on and knows abt the crystal shattering and the wars and she realizes that there have been sylphs exiled to earth and she’s like “well that ain’t gonna fly”

so she starts the pineguard and, for that first year, it’s mostly just her? and, at that point, it’s harder to locate sylphs, so she only has barclay and one or two others staying with her and it’s cramped but they’re safe so she’s happy

she meets thacker around... april 1989, i think? i know it was spring. so he helps out, and then they recruit another guy, mike (canonically mentioned in the water arc), and a couple others, and, suddenly, the pineguard is turning into an actual thing

and then, one of the ski lodges up on topside closes, now leaving a completely empty inn just... taking up space...... and it’s only a half mile from the gate........... and she has been making a decent amount of money from her sculptures

before the end of 1989, amnesty lodge is set up and running and, all of a sudden, it’s like she has another real home again. she loves the sylphs she meets and they can be safe with her!!

thacker absolutely has a bunch of “home videos” where, really, he’s just messing around with madeline. it’s almost like a “madeline cobb nature documentary” as she finishes up the lodge and treks through the woods. there’s also some of barclay and moira, and other pineguard members, and other sylphs that show up. he also has his journals and pictures and other books and, at one point, the cellar looks like thacker’s library

also the ballad of bigfoot is absolutely canonical and, after stephanie & griffin & C.M. leave the lodge, thacker has never seen madeline go off like she did on barclay that night. barclay still has some residual fear for hearing mama (who’s a big woman but he is Big Foot so he is definitely just Big) scream up at him “I WILL PUT YOU BACK IN THE WOODS WHERE I FOUND YOU, DON’T YOU TEST ME, BARCLAY”

even tho the two of them don’t talk abt it much, and might not even realize it that early on (picturing like late 20s/early 30s), thacker and mama really are best friends and, tbh, every sylph can see it in the way they bicker yet unconditionally care for each other

madeline almost kicked thacker out of the pineguard when she first found out what he put in his gorp

dani showed up in 2009 and, at the age of 12, she was the youngest sylph amnesty lodge had by a fucking landslide, and that made madeline so angry yet so sad bc this child had been exiled from her home and that was just a thing that could happen

(madeline never got along too well with woodbridge but, after that, knowing that he is the one in charge of the exiles, she could never even be civil with him)

she was immediately protective of dani and was ready to really step in as a parental figure bc she wasn’t abt to let this young girl be without guidance

and she gave dani handmedowns and took her shopping and would make sure that she felt safe and comfortable bc, really, she was the only sylph in the lodge who wasn’t an adult. and, fortunately, barclay was basically an older brother to her and moira looked out for her and i think dani coming into the lodge was what really gave everyone a very big reality check bc, like. she’s a kid

(is it obvious that i’m a bit attached to mama and dani)

and so it should come as no shock that, within a year of dani being in amnesty lodge, madeline became “mama”

and then, in 2011, jake, age 16, showed up, and by then mama was like “alright time to adopt him”

but also, real talk, mama looks out for all her sylphs so much, she’d lay down her life for any of them

when thacker leaves in 2013, she’s at first okay, doing just fine. he promised that he would come back, and she has faith in him. and then months pass. and then a year. and then two. and, all of a sudden, it’s the spring of 2016 and kepler expeditions is officially shut down and mama realizes just how much she misses her best friend.

and, not to mention, the waning of the pineguard.

by the time it gets to the summer of 2018, it’s just her and barclay, the both of them hoping things stay the same, but hope hasn’t gotten them too far

and then they have a fire magician, and a forest ranger with a talking sword, and ned fucking chicane

and now we have reached canon!!! thank u for coming to my ted talk!!!!

also tho, post-finale during the big reunion, thacker is just talking with aubrey and all of a sudden is like “holy shit, you really are like her, aren’t you?” and aubrey is just like “???” and thacker says, “don’t go tellin’ her, because she’ll kick my ass, but talkin’ to you is just like talkin’ to maddie when she was your age” and aubrey is a bit :’)

#taz amnesty #taz mama #madeline cobb #mama #headcanons #answered #the-ipre

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koiandjelly · 4 years

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So Fila’s actual past isn’t very detailed, because she’s not a main OC, and I haven’t spent a ton of time actually thinking about her as a character lol. 98% of my Creativity goes to my original content characters, cuz someday when I finish actually crafting my worlds, I’m gonna write a book. I’m aiming for the lofty goals of making a full, fleshed out, intricate— just fuckin’... a whole ass Multiverse system comparable to the Lore content of Tolkien’s works, or The Elder Scrolls— gah fuck y’know what, I’m changing this post from being about my Fantasy Life OC to being about my creation baby, the effort of about 6 years (I am 20 years old, and although I didn’t know it at the time I started, I was 14 when I made the shitty Fire Emblem Manakete rip-off race that I’m gonna actually now talk about, because holy fuck this ain’t gonna fit in a parenthesis “btw have some info” bubble)

A’ight so I have a hard time keeping track of time, especially in a large scale across years. Apparently it’s related to being severely depressed without medication (communication error on my part, my parents are very lovely and helped me ASAP when I spilled the beans) while also having moderate to severe ADD. So, ya know, keep in mind that I was yet another terribly depressed 8th grader when I talk about my creation’s early days. I wouldn’t experience that time of my life for any sort of payment ever. It was goddamn miserable, because when I was midway through the age of 14, not only did the aforementioned depression spring up, but I also realized I was bisexual (And I live in the infamous state of Alabama, for reference. Don’t fear for me though, I was too unnoticeable to be bullied if anyone did know, and my wonderful mother, whom I love and cherish with all of my heart, is one of the few Christians that actually... like... do what their own God tells em to. That is, Jesus. I’m an atheist and have a general discomfort about the idea of super powerful entities actually existing irl, but I do agree with the stuff I’ve heard and remember from a decade ago in Church about Jesus. Good guy. But yeah my mom not only accepted me and reassured me when I came out, but she’s gone even further and is of the opinion/fact that lgbt folks are, really, good and normal and that God created them, so she really genuinely just... loves and accepts me. There’s no “I love you despite of this” in the equation and I am so grateful. But again. I digress)

Pause after that sidetrack, to recap, all of my medical issues began to emerge about 6 months before I turned 15. Including what I hate most, the emergence of my Fibromyalgia and Sjogren’s Syndrome, and for an added kick to the flesh, an undifferentiated connective tissue disorder. Meaning, as what I understand it to be, a nameless chimaera of many symptoms in a way that the disorder either is it’s own thing, or just can’t easily be recognized as any one disorder. And I had anxiety. If I recall correctly on *that*, forgive me cuz it’s been a while since it’s been diagnosed/brought up in a significant way, I have or had either general anxiety *and* social anxiety, or just lightweight versions of both, or something, but at the time I was horribly shy and I couldn’t even talk to the teacher after class about schoolwork, even though I tried rationalizing it to hell and back that I shouldn’t be scared— as you’ll guess, shit didn’t work out til I got medicine for it, because no amount of logic and rational thought will change the fact that I was struggling because of a literal disorder, an error of the brain, and as with that walking with two shattered femurs ain’t gonna work, trying to talk when the talk machine broke... ain’t going to goddamn work.

God. I am rambling a lot. But anyway, shit fucking sucked as a teen for me, because I got that wombo combo, prepare for trouble, make it double, precision strike at my existence as a person during fucking already difficult puberty— I am rambling. It’s 4:55am as of this sentence lmao. I had a nasty cocktail of both mental illness and physical disorders pop up once puberty hit me, so I, through many events starting from loving to draw as a toddler, to play pretend stories of heartbreak, betrayal, and death as best an 8 year old could understand via playing with Polly Pockets, and all the creative power I inherited from my Dad, plus the motivation borne through a need to escape, I started making my own characters.

So, to return to the present state of my creations, which will now be referred to as Bounding Beyond the Stars, or BBtS, I’m gonna get some things out of the way. Just to clarify, yeah? I have created my worlds in a way that is specifically meant to stand apart from the irl universe as we know it. I’m certainly not a knowledgeable researcher with any level of comprehension on Spacial law and quantum physics and shit like that. So hey, if something ever seems... like, off, or wrong? Unless it’s pretty obviously wrong in the “hey you just googled how a thing works, and misunderstood it, and made a detail based on a failure to understand stuff and that’s dumb in a catastrophic way that even a high school level viewer would notice...” kind of mistake, then hey, shoot me a message. But if some sort of universal rule seems fucky in the way that it doesn’t make sense, but isn’t a catastrophic structural error... well, Imma use that sentence to start a better one. For an example of a catastrophic error, perhaps... this: “This planet has no seasons cuz of its shape and axis! And it is also like twice as big as Earth!” That would be catastrophic alone because anyone with a grasp on planetary gravity or something, may go and think “if it’s that big, gravity’s gonna be way more intense”. And you’d be right! Which is why I usually account for those things with... *Magic*.

Before I split this post for Length reasons, and I’m sorry the majority of this was me rambling about how my general experience with life sucked from ages 14-17, I’mma state something very important about all my creations.

Magic, which will be explained in depth at a later point, is a fundamental, essential, and omnipresent force of not just any one universe in my Multiversal Trio. It is a key piece of Reality itself, as magic is the flow of many multiples of millions of unique and mysterious energies, concepts, and laws existing anywhere that Is.

To end this post, I’m going to put a quick summary and explanation why I’m rambling about any of this: The rant about my age and circumstances at the start are relevant because it’s necessary context for the tone and type of writing my creations are built upon. The foundations of BBtS are borne from a sometimes angsty, sometimes genuinely upset 14 year old who found escape in the art of Creation. There have been many, many, many heavy edits, rewrites, scrapped info and ideas, and even more info built upon it. It used to be pretty pointlessly edgy in a lot of ways, and redundant in grimdark, morphing into *grimderp* plot devices and character traits. The way it’s written today, I like to think the lore of my many high fantasy-alien societies, and all its denizens and creators and whatever else, are still written to be dark, be dangerous, even angsty... but more skillfully so, with the sort of nuance a 14 year old wouldn’t really even begin to understand. Cuz I still like high stakes stories with real consequences and character deaths when appropriate. And I enjoy characters who have tragic pasts, but now that I’m older and I’ve seen and read about and done so much more— I can write that stuff *better*. And more over, what I’m most satisfied with, is that I’m more in touch with myself as a person, and I’ve evolved many of my personal beliefs and ideals and all the things of the world I can have opinions on. But most of all, I’ve reached a point where I have consumed enough content from others to where I have figured out how to write something that should be interesting, and maybe a bit new, because I put a looot of Damn focus on identifying, and understanding, writing structure, cliches, plot holes to avoid, character traits to handle differently, and just generally making something that’ll appeal to both me, and my audience, should I get that far.

#original content #ramble #long ramble #worldbuilding #personal history #long post #fantasy #sci-fi #science fiction #it’s currently 5:24am as i think of appropriate tags lol #sleep deprived #late night/early morning thoughts

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unfortunate-stranger-losers · 5 years

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Six Baudelaires AU, Part Three {AO3} {Masterlist} {Part One} {Part Two}

Chapter Seven → in which Lilac goes feral

“Alright.” Violet said, tying her ribbon tight. “We’re going to need the ukulele from the caravan and the half-melted candelabra from that table over there.”

Nick passed over the ukulele, and Quigley passed her the candelabra. Lilac finished pulling her hair back and said, “Violet, I can use a rock to break this apart while you invent.”

“No, I don’t want your hands getting cut up again.” Violet said, remembering when they made a grappling hook.

“You can help us.” Klaus said. He and Nick shared a look, as he continued, “We’re useless with inventing, but we could dig through the library to see if any documents survived.”

“Good idea.” Quigley said. He pulled a dark blue notebook from his coat pocket and said, “I have an extra notebook you can use. Nick, I think I’ll have one for you- here it is!” he handed Klaus the blue notebook and pulled out a gray one. “Is this okay?”

“This is perfect.” Nick said, smiling. “Thank you. Soli, you can-” He turned, and then let out a soft gasp.

Solitude had curled up onto a table, spreading her poncho over herself as a blanket. Babbitt laid beside her, looking completely frozen over; it was a bit unnerving, even though she’d warned them ahead of time that they’d look like this.

“Is that a frog?” Quigley asked, as Nick approached his sister, smiling as she slept soundly.

“It’s her pet.” Violet said softly, also beaming. “Babbitt. From Uncle Monty’s.”

Quigley glanced down at the table. “I’m sorry about your Uncle. And… everyone else.”

“We’re sorry about your losses, too.” Violet put a hand over his. “But we’ll be okay. Once we get Sunny back, we’ll find your siblings, and then we’ll all be together.”

Quigley smiled over at her, and then Klaus said, “We… we better go. Think you can watch Soli and invent, Vi?”

“Of course. Used to do it when Lilac was at art class.” Violet shrugged.

“I can stay and help.” Quigley said.

Nick raised an eyebrow. “Are you sure? You could help us.”

“Well, I’ve… I’ve heard of Violet’s magnificent inventions,” Quigley said awkwardly, “And I’d… like to see her in action, if that won’t be a bother.”

“It won’t be.” Violet said, picking up the ukulele. “I work with my siblings bothering me all the time.”

“Oh, fuck you, too.” Nick laughed. “Come on, kids.”

“I can stay with Violet.” Lilac said hesitantly.

Violet gave her a smile. “You’re a mechanic, Li, not an inventor. I’ll piece this together. You help the boys, they’ll need to find things. And, well, they’ll need someone to keep them from arguing or wandering off.”

Klaus nodded, while Nick just bit his lip and stared at the ground.

“If you’re sure-” Lilac said.

“Go dig through the library.” Violet nodded. “The boys could use your help.”

“And you could use ours.” Klaus said, holding out his hand.

Lilac hesitated, and then nodded, gripping onto Klaus and following him and Nick to the library.

“Now,” Violet said, looking up at Quigley and tossing him the candelabra, “Make yourself useful.”

Quigley smirked. “Got it.”

“So… Lilac…” Nick said cautiously, looking through the ashy books, “How’s your arm?”

Lilac had climbed on a slightly-intact stepladder to reach a higher shelf, her hair still tied back as she rifled through broken books, but Nick had noticed her flinching. “It’s… fine.”

“Is it still bleeding?”

“No.”

“Does it hurt?”

“Can we talk about something else? Anything else?”

Nick smiled slightly. “What do you think of Quigley?”

Klaus shot him a look from another shelf, but Nick just rolled his eyes. “What?”

“Well, I mean, you think we can trust him?” Nick said.

Lilac hmmed, considering. “I… I think so. He seems sweet. And I understand his devotion to his siblings.” She shot her brothers a smile.

Nick nodded. “Especially since his siblings are Isadora and Klaus’s husband.”

“Shut the fuck up.” Klaus said.

Nick gave him a smile. “But, yeah. I… we owe them everything. At the very least we can make sure Quigley doesn’t kill himself on accident. And that no one else kills him.”

Lilac gave him a sympathetic glance, and then she descended the stepladder. “We won’t let Olaf get to him. I promise.”

Nick bit his lip and pushed a charred novel back onto the shelf, before moving to scratch his arm.

“Nothing will happen to him, and nothing will happen to Sunny.” Lilac said, and she moved over, putting a hand on his shoulder, which didn’t stop his scratching. “We’ll protect you all.”

Klaus walked over, too, and he pulled his siblings into a hug. “We’ll protect each other.” he said. “Okay? No sacrificing ourselves, no kidnappings, no separations. No more.”

Nick leaned his head onto his twin’s shoulder, and then, quietly, Lilac said, “If he has Sunny-”

“We’ll get her back together. Okay?”

Lilac shut her eyes, and then whispered, “Okay. Promise.”

Klaus pulled away, wiping his eyes under his glasses, and he said, “We better keep looking, then.”

Lilac gave Nick another sad gaze, and he just stared at the ground. Then he said, “Well… glad you like Quigley, Li.”

“Why wouldn’t I?” Lilac asked, running a hand over her hair, which was still much looser than she normally kept it.

Nick looked up at her, giving her an incredulous look. “You know he’s flirting with Violet, right?”

Lilac froze for an instant, and then said, “I’m sorry, he’s what?”

“Come on, Li.” Nick said, as Klaus started giggling behind them. “You heard him. ‘I’ve heard of Violet’s magnificent inventions, and I’d like to see her in action.’ He was telling us to piss off so they could flirt.”

Lilac stared at him, eyes wide, as Klaus shoved his hands over his mouth to muffle his laughter. “N-no, no he wasn’t.”

“They’re probably already making out.” Nick said, unable to hide his grin.

“No!”

“Face it, Li. Your baby sister’s growing up.” Nick grinned. “She’s got a boyfriend.”

“No, she doesn’t!”

“Yeah, she does! Just like Klaus!”

Klaus stopped laughing, and gave him a glare. “Oh, shut up!”

“Lilac, if you marry Isadora, we can have all the Quagmires! The full set!”

“Nick!” Lilac shouted. “If you don’t shut up, I am throwing you off the mountain!”

“Try it, bitch!”

Lilac gasped. “Nick!”

“What? You gonna ‘language’ me?”

“Fuck you!”

They stared at each other in complete shock. Lilac threw a hand over her mouth, shock and regret rippling through her. Nick just froze over, his eyes going very wide. Klaus shot his head between his siblings, his mouth falling open, trying to say something.

And then Nick laughed.

He shut his eyes and doubled over, howling. “Ho-holy shit…” he said, barely able to breathe. “Holy shit…”

Klaus giggled a little, and then Lilac slowly lowered her hand and started to laugh, too. Tears sprang to her eyes, and she ran over to hug Nick again as they both laughed.

By the time they’d calmed down, Klaus had already moved over several shelves, and Nick was barely standing up, just clutching onto Lilac in order to stay on his feet.

Then, quietly, Lilac snickered, “But you better be joking about Quigley.”

Nick buried his head in her dress and grinned. “Or what? You’ll cuss at me?”

Barely able to get the words out though her giggles, Lilac said, “Go- go fuck yourself.”

“Oh my god, are you gonna explode? Are your big sister antibodies gonna kill you?”

“Fuck off!”

“Okay, seriously,” Nick looked up at her, tears on his face. “Stop it. This is freaking me out.”

“You’ve heard me curse before.”

“Not for something so dumb as Violet’s boyfriend.”

“He is not…” Lilac giggled. “He is not her fucking boyfriend.”

“Oh my God, I’ve created a monster.”

“Hey, guys?” Klaus called.

“Then deal with what you’ve made!”

“Guys?”

“Lilac, seriously, I can’t breathe-”

“Then suffocate.”

“Guys!”

Lilac and Nick looked over to Klaus, both unable to stop their giggling, even as Klaus held up an ashy book.

“I found something.”

“It works.” Violet said, her face lighting up.

Her and Quigley had been hard at work, grabbing forks from the shattered drawers and using the ukulele strings to tie them to the toe area of their shoes. Violet shoved one shoe into a pillar, smiling as it stuck.

“Of course it does.” Quigley said, grinning.

“Now,” Violet said, pulling out the shoe and placing it beside the others on the table, “We’ll need everyone else’s shoes so we can work those, and we’ll use the other forks for handholds. We can use the candelabra to test the ice on the waterfall; frozen water is rarely truly frozen, and we don’t want to stick our forks in weak ice that’ll break and cause us to fall.”

“That would be pretty disastrous.” Quigley said. “Do we have enough forks?”

“We better.”

“And are they sharp enough?”

“These forks are almost as sharp as Sunny’s teeth.” Violet said, sadly picking up a fork and running her hands over the tips. “They’ll work.”

Quigley bit his lip, and then glanced over at Solitude, still sleeping soundly on the table. “Will she be able to climb? Maybe we could strap her to someone’s back. I can take her, if-”

“I’m sure Nick will want to take her.” Violet said. “I’m honestly surprised he let her out of his sight for any amount of time.”

“They’re really close?”

“Definitely. Even before the fire and… and now…” Violet sighed. “Do you… know that Nick got kidnapped?”

“I… didn’t really, but from what you all have said, I kinda pieced together that something happened.”

Violet sighed, sitting on the edge of the table as she fiddled with one of the shoes. “Count Olaf and Esme Squalor managed to grab him while we were living at 667 Dark Avenue, and they had him for… God, I think it was over a week.”

“Esme Squalor?” Quigley asked, narrowing his eyes and sitting beside her.

“You know her?”

“Yeah. The papers said she was in charge of Duncan and Isadora’s estate.”

“Well. That explains why she just tossed them at Prufrock.” Violet said. “Orphans weren’t ‘In’ for a while.”

“In what?”

“Esme’s obsessed with fashionable things, that she calls ‘In.’ And we weren’t In until she could team up with Olaf to steal our fortune.” Violet shut her eyes. “They took Nick, and they… I don’t know what exactly they did to him, Quigley, and I’m terrified to find out. Because he just… he’s just been so different since then. He’s quieter, not as impulsive, he just gets so scared… and he knows things, but when he tries to tell us he just… breaks down.”

“That’s awful.” Quigley said, his voice coming out very quiet. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s… we got him out. He’ll get better.” Violet said, quickly wiping her eyes on her sleeve. “And he doesn’t like when we get upset about it. I don’t think he likes the attention.”

“I mean… when I’ve gotten hurt, or messed up, I don’t like people focusing on me either.” Quigley admitted. “But, I mean… it’s okay to feel scared about it. I… I’ve been scared about my siblings ever since I found out they’d been kidnapped from boarding school.”

“They…” Violet considered a second, before she carefully put a hand over Quigley’s. “I’m not going to lie to you Quigley, I don’t know what happened to them and I know it was nothing good but… it wasn’t on Nick’s level. They got out… better, I think.”

“Or maybe they’re just better at hiding it.” Quigley said quietly. “Isadora was… she was always good at hiding when she was upset. She just vented everything in her poems. And Duncan- he’s emotional, you know? But he didn’t always like us to know why he was sad.”

Violet slowly put the shoe down, pulling her ribbon out of her hair and wrapping and unwrapping it around her hands. “I… I’m sorry, I didn’t even think of that. They… they seemed scared at Dark Avenue, but they were… better in the village, at least compared to… I guess I never thought… God, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not!” Quigley said. “No way! You just made these shoes out of forks and a ukulele!”

“But I didn’t think-”

“Violet, you saved them.” Quigley put his hands back over hers, stopping her fiddling for a moment and meeting her eyes. “You and your siblings saved Duncan and Isadora. They’d still be in Olaf’s horrible clutches without you. You’ll get Sunny out, too, I know it.”

Violet slowly smiled. “Thank you, Quigley.”

“Thank you.”

“We hate to interrupt!” came Lilac’s voice, and Violet and Quigley turned to see her and the twins run back into the kitchen, “But we found something!”

Nick was grabbing onto Klaus’s arm, as Klaus carried a slightly-intact book. Violet and Quigley jumped off of the table, and Solitude blearily sat up, rubbing her eyes. “Whazzit?”

“Oh, Soli, it’s okay, go back to sleep.” Violet said quickly.

Solitude yawned and shook her head, pushing her hair out of her face. “I wanna help. Whazzit?”

“We found this.” Klaus said, moving to the table and flipping through the book. “It was partially destroyed by smoke damage, but enough of it remains intact to tell us that there may be a code here.”

“A code?” Quigley asked, looking over his shoulder.

“Well, it’s a codebook, so I assume there’s codes in it.” Nick said, crossing his arms and staring at the ground. Soli giggled and started to crawl towards him, before going back to grab Babbitt and slip her sleeping pet into her pocket.

“Look at this passage.” Klaus said, putting the book on the table. “In the e- flagration resulting in the destruction of sanc-, -teers should avail themselves of Verbal Fri- Dialogue, which is concealed accordingly. These blank parts were ruined, but we can probably figure it out- ‘flagration’ is probably ‘conflagration’, a fancy word for fire, and ‘sanc’ is probably ‘sanctuary’, so it means ‘in the event of a conflagration resulting in the destruction of a sanctuary, and then that’s ‘Volunteers.’”

“What’s Verbal Fri- Dialogue?” Quigley asked, flipping through his commonplace book. “I don’t know anything about that, unless I missed it in Incomplete History.”

“There’s lots of words that start with Fri-.” Lilac said.

Carefully, Nick leaned over and said, “Well, geniuses, here’s a fucking hint. If you want to leave a message in a place that’s about to be on fire, would you or would you not hide it in something that would probably not burn?”

The others turned to him, a little apprehensive. “Nick,” Lilac said, “Do you know something about this?”

Nick gave her a look, and then pointed to an intact fridge only a few feet away.

“Verbal Fridge Dialogue, dumbasses.” he said.

“How’d you learn about that?” Quigley asked, and Klaus shot him a stop hand gesture.

Nick gave him a look. “It’s a guess, Quagmire, because there’s a fridge right fucking there.”

“Well, alright then.” Lilac sighed, and Violet and Klaus ran to the fridge, flinging it open.

“There’s just some food.” Klaus said, a little disappointed.

“What food?” Quigley asked, also running over and trying to peer around them.

“Why?” Klaus asked.

“If there’s Very Fresh Dill,” Quigley said, “It could be signalling a code. There’s something here, something hidden.”

“There’s dill, yeah.” Klaus nodded. “Just one.”

“Then we have something to figure out.” Quigley said.

“We need to solve it soon.” Lilac said. “Sunny could be up there, and if the smoke went out…”

She didn’t finish her sentence, but Nick did. “Who knows what could be happening to her?”

“We only have two pairs of shoes ready.” Violet said. “I can make more while you solve the codes-”

“But we need to get to Sunny fast.” Nick said.

“Okay.” Lilac shut her eyes. “I… I can go with Nick. He’s a climber, and-”

“You can’t go.” Violet said quickly. “Your arm’s still hurt. And you were never the best climber anyway. Mine’s mostly healed from the grappling hook, I can go.”

“No.” Lilac shook her head. “I’ll go-”

“Li. It’s okay.” Violet moved over, grabbing her hand. “I can go. You can help the codebreakers. Soli, I’m assuming you’ll stay here, too?”

Solitude considered. “Is Nick going?”

“He’s our climber.” Lilac said. “He… Nick?”

Nick was staring very hard at the ground and scratching his arm very fast. It was almost as if he wasn’t hearing them.

“Nick? Hey! Nick!” Klaus said, running over. “Nick?”

Nick suddenly jolted up, running a few steps back. Quigley jumped, surprised, and he grabbed Violet’s arm. Lilac ran forwards, too, throwing an arm around her brother. “Hey? Hey, what’s going on?”

“I…” Nick bit his lip. “I just…” He stuttered for a few moments, and then he slowly turned to look over at Lilac, falling completely silent.

“Nick?” Lilac asked. “Are you okay?”

He shut his eyes tight, as if bracing himself, and then he said, “I can’t go.”

Lilac stared at him. “What? What do you mean? Are you hurt- you were climbing okay in the shaft-?”

“I can’t go up that mountain.” Nick’s voice shook slightly, and he broke away from Lilac, hugging himself and trying not to cry. “I can’t… if Sunny’s up there, they’re up there, and I can’t… I want to save Sunny but if I go near them I… I know I’m not going to be of any help, I’m going to freak out and… we’ll get spotted, or Violet will waste time trying to calm me down, or…” he cut himself off, and Klaus ran forwards and hugged him. Solitude held her arms up, and Violet picked her up and brought her over to hug Nick, too.

“Okay.” Lilac finally said. “Okay.” She put her hands on Nick’s shoulders until he looked up at her. “Okay, you don’t have to go. Klaus or I can go.”

“Lilac…” Klaus said quietly. “I’m better at codes. I can’t climb for shit.”

“Well, then, I’ll go with Violet.” Lilac said. “I can-”

“Or,” Violet said, giving Lilac a look. “If Quigley’s okay with it, he could go with me.”

Lilac stared at her, as Klaus helped Nick sit down and Solitude climbed from Violet’s arms to the ground before running over to her brother. Quigley, not noticing Lilac’s reaction, said, “Oh, yeah! Yeah, definitely. I’ll help any way I can.”

“It’s a lot to ask.” Klaus said.

“You helped rescue my siblings,” Quigley said, “I’ll help rescue yours.”

“Um!” Lilac said. “I can go, Violet-”

“It’ll be fine. You help the boys.” Violet said. “I used mine and Quigley’s shoes, anyway, now we don’t have to worry about them fitting.”

“But-”

“Don’t worry. If Sunny’s up there, we’ll bring her back.” Violet said. “You try to crack that code. Hopefully we’ll both succeed fast.” She turned and said, “Quig, grab your shoes.”

Quigley took his shoes from the table, and then said, “I’ll leave my commonplace book with you. Maybe my notes can help.”

“Thank you.” Klaus said. “Just… be careful, both of you.”

“Tell Sunny to be safe, too.” Solitude said, leaning onto Nick as she hugged him very tightly.

“You can tell her yourself, when we bring her back.” Violet said, grabbing her shoes and candelabra. “We better hurry. You all have fun, we’ll be back soon.”

Quigley nodded, and then they ran off towards the waterfall.

Lilac stared after them a moment, and then she carefully moved over to Nick, putting her arm around him again. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Nick nodded, still shaking a little as he picked up Soli and held her close.

Then, quietly, he said, “So. Violet and Quigley are on a date?”

“Oh, fuck you.”

They both laughed a little, and then stood up to go back to the fridge.

#asoue #asoue netflix #a series of unfortunate events #asoue movie #six baudelaires au #six baudelaires official fic #the slippery slope #mine #my fanfic

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prevdustinhendrsn · 5 years

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under that starry summer sky

lucas sinclair/max mayfield 2.9k - read on ao3 requested by anonymous from this list: 86. ‘I’ll walk you home.’

a/n: hello and welcome to my summer of ‘85 lumax one-shot, composed entirely of fluff, milkshake mustache kisses, lucas ‘holy shit max mayfield is my girlfriend’ sinclair, and my all-time favorite trope that I’ll use in every single fic until the day I die: the big ‘I love you’ revelation.

The party’s lazy day in Mike’s air-conditioned basement ends when Will, sprawled on the carpet, lets out the first yawn.

“I need to get home,” he sighs, dropping the colored pencil in his hand. Lucas eyes his sketchpad. The topmost drawing is only half-finished, but it looks suspiciously like the midsummer carnival’s Ferris wheel, bright rainbow lights and all. The carnival isn’t for another month – how does he even remember that much detail?

“Yeah, me too. Gotta feed my frogs ‘cause my mom isn’t gonna remember,” Dustin says, stretched out on the couch with an arm slung over his eyes. Across from him lies El, face screwed up in concentration as she works on the puzzle floating several feet above her face, several tissues stuck up one nostril. All the pieces are scattered in the air around the portion of puzzle that she’s completed already; she sorts through, finds, and attaches the pieces she needs all without lifting a finger. It’s unbelievable, yet here she is, forcing them all to believe.

“Do we have plans tomorrow, Mike?” Lucas asks. He’s sat at the rickety old table in the middle of the basement along with Max, who’s tipping dangerously on the back legs of her chair just to see how far she can go by balance alone, and Mike, who’s hunched over a spread of papers for D&D, pencil rapidly spinning between his fingers.

“Up to you guys,” he says absently, chewing his lip.

“Let’s go to the pool,” El suggests. Dustin groans, swinging off the couch and onto his feet.

“We’ve been to the pool like four times this week.”

“It’s a million degrees outside,” Will interjects. “We can’t not go to the pool at least four times a week. We’ll melt.”

“Grow up,” Max drawls, eyes closed. “This is normal California weather in, like, April.” Her tongue sticks out between her teeth as she concentrates on not falling over; Lucas thinks it’s adorable.

“Hey, Max?” Dustin says, his voice suddenly too sickly-sweet to mean anything good.

“Yeah?”

He crosses the room and sticks his foot under one of the suspended chair legs, promptly shoving it up and sending Max crashing to the ground. He doubles over in cackling laughter and Mike snorts as she gapes at him from the ground, sputtering out swears.

“You fucking asshole! I swear one day I’m going to throw you off the goddamn quarry –“

“It was funny!” he yells in protest, grinning wide. Max flips him off, but Lucas can see the telltale curve of a reluctant smile on her lips.

“Sorry, Max, but it was kind of funny,” Will says light-heartedly, collecting his art supplies. Lucas gets to his feet and holds out a hand to his defeated girlfriend.

“I didn’t think it was funny,” he says loyally, hauling her up. She rolls her eyes.

“Sure you didn’t. Are we leaving too?”

“Let me know if you guys want to do something tomorrow,” Mike says, his gaze still focused on his game planning.

“El, are we taking you home?” Will asks. El shakes her head.

“Hopper is picking me up later. See you tomorrow!”

After a chorus of goodbyes, the four of them are out the door. The evening is humid and clingy, just as it’s been all summer; streaks of indigo paint the orange sky, the sunset a hazy golden mirage on the horizon.

“Goddamn summer, man,” Dustin huffs as they head up to yard to the street. “Eight-thirty and it’s barely even dark.”

“I like it,” Max says, hoisting her skateboard under her arm. A fond smile crosses her face. “California summers always last forever. They’re great.”

Lucas looks over at her. Her hair blazes in the glow of the sunset, the sharp planes of her face illuminated in fire. Radiant, beautiful, always.

“See you guys tomorrow?” Will asks, pulling his bike up from the lawn.

“I’ll radio after breakfast,” Dustin says as he adjusts his walkie-talkie mic. “El wants to go swimming so that’s probably what we’ll do, knowing Mike.”

“Ten-four. Night, guys.” Lucas salutes and Dustin copies with a laugh, and then he and Will take off down the street.

Max idly spins one of the wheels on her skateboard, looking up at Lucas. “What now?”

“Whatever you want. Meg’s is still open, or I’ll walk you home?”

He always walks her home after days like these, despite the fact that she lives half a mile away and he’s just two houses down. At first she had adamantly refused, saying it wasn’t logical for him to go all that way and honestly, I can take care of myself just fine, thanks. Lucas couldn’t help but laugh. Believe me, Max, all of Hawkins knows you can take care of yourself, he had said. I just like spending time with you. Much to his delight, she relented, and each walk home – or sometimes bike-slash-skateboard ride – is a valued memory of his.

Now, though, she hesitates, eyes dropping to her shoes, and Lucas recognizes what’s going on immediately.

“Or you can stay at my house tonight, if you want,” he adds. She sighs.

“I’m sorry, Lucas, I just – it’s been bad, the last few days, and I wouldn’t ask if –“

“Max.” Lucas plants his hands on her shoulders and she wearily looks up at him, her expression somewhere between hope and reluctance. “It’s okay. I get it, dude. It’s not a problem. You know you’re always welcome at my house. My family loves you.”

She takes a deep breath, and with her nod comes a smile. “Yeah. Okay. Thanks, Lucas.”

He smiles back at her, because how can he not? “Anytime. Milkshakes?”

“Milkshakes,” she agrees.

She discards her skateboard in the Wheelers’ lawn, to be picked up on their way back, and takes Lucas’ hand. He tries not to smile too wide.

Hawkins is tranquil and undisturbed on this sticky summer night. As the sky darkens, the streetlamps flicker to life, dotting the street with patches of dim yellow halogen. The occasional rustling of trees is accompanied by the scuffle of Max’s and Lucas’ shoes on the asphalt, and with their hands swinging between them, Lucas feels a warm sense of peace drift through him.

They discuss whatever comes to mind as they walk (mostly the new video games that the arcade is getting next week) and it doesn’t take long before they get to Meg’s, the closest thing to a diner Hawkins has after Benny’s Burgers shut down. A rush of cool air greets them as they step inside, the entire restaurant lit up in neon purples and pinks. After ordering a chocolate milkshake for Max, a strawberry one for Lucas, and a large side of fries because they’re both sad suckers for the comfort food combination of both, they take a booth near the window.

“Do you think El will be able to come to school this year?” Max asks offhandedly as they wait for their food, drumming her nails on the checkered tabletop. The neon lights cast a soft purple glow over her sun-kissed face and dye her hair a bright magenta.

Lucas shrugs. “Maybe. Mike said she and Hopper have been fighting nonstop about it. Technically her safety year isn’t up until December, so…Hopper’s just looking out for her.”

Max nods, leaning back in the booth. “Why does she have to hide so much anyways? I thought the lab was closed for good.”

“There could be more labs, I guess. More experiments that would want to find her.”

“I can’t believe she’s our friend.” Max shakes her head. “She’s so cool.”

Lucas grins. Despite Max’s constant no-shits-given attitude, she really looks up to El and he can see how highly she thinks of their telekinetic friend. “Yeah, she is. I didn’t always think that, back when we first met her.”

“Really?”

He shakes his head. “I thought she was against us, sabotaging us and keeping us from finding Will. But I was way, way wrong. She’s a good person. She’s been through a lot.”

Max pulls her lip between her teeth, eyeing him. “Mike loves her.” It isn’t a question – how could it be, to anyone who has eyes?

“Well, yeah. She’s everything to him.”

Max grins, presumably at the blush Lucas can feel rising in his cheeks. “You’re such a sap, dude.” He rolls his eyes.

“You brought it up!”

She starts to say something but then their food arrives and she changes tack at warp speed. “Oh my God, that looks amazing. It smells amazing. Am I drooling? I have to be. Save me, Lucas.”

He snorts, picking up some fries at the same time that she grabs for them with some kind of freaky animalistic instinct. He watches amusedly as she crams them into her mouth, giving a moan that’s way too obscene for a diner.

“Don’t choke, man,” he says, wincing. “Don’t you want some ketchup or something? Max, seriously, when was the last time you ate –“

“’M ffn,” she mumbles in a highly protestant tone, completely incomprehensible because of the absurd amount of food in her mouth. Lucas laughs, unsure whether to stop her for her own good or just let her go.

“Here.” He tears the paper off a straw and dunks it in her milkshake, sliding it across the table to her. “Drink this before you suffocate.”

She rolls her eyes but the overall effect is diminished by her bulging chipmunk-cheeks. She finally gets a breath and takes a huge gulp of the milkshake.

“Better?”

“Those fries are the best fries I’ve ever had,” she says with a heavy sigh, gazing at the basket longingly. “I love these fries. I’d marry these fries.”

Lucas smiles, unwrapping another straw. “Date them instead, then. Who needs poor pitiful me when you’ve got potatoes?”

“Damn right,” she says with a grin, watching him take a drink of his milkshake. When he sets the glass down her expression shifts to amusement, laughter bubbling up in her voice. “You, um, you got something there.”

He already knows – he can feel the cold foam across his upper lip – but he forces himself to keep a straight face as he looks at her innocently. “Hm?”

Max’s mouth twitches, a glint in her eyes, and then before he can move she leans across the table and kisses the entire strawberry milkshake moustache right off him. All of his brain processes freeze up and he gapes at her, eyes wide as she sits back, looking extremely smug despite the slight reddening of her ears.

He’s straight up malfunctioning as a human being. “Did you – did you just –“

She nods, clearly pleased with herself. “I did. Not bad, right?”

He blinks, his fingers absently ghosting across his lips before he breaks into an incredulous grin. This girl. “That was the cheesiest thing I’ve ever seen. And pretty awesome. You’re crazy.”

She beams. “You were asking for it.” She pops another fry in her mouth, scrutinizing him, and when she finishes she says, “Kiss me again?”

Despite the sun having fully set and the clock nearing ten by the time they leave the diner, the air outside is just as sultry and hot as it was before. The streets stretch out before them, empty and quiet, trees rustling in the dark distance beyond the edges of the concrete. Max swings a plastic sack from her hand as they walk; it’s filled with more fries that she had ordered before they left. Her other hand is loosely interlaced with Lucas’.

“Do you want to go see a movie or something this weekend?” Lucas asks. “Just us?”

“D’aw, are you asking me on a date?”

“I mean, only if you want to –“

She swerves into his side, playfully nudging him with her elbow. “Yes, Stalker. I want to go to a movie. Just us. Not that I don’t enjoy doubling up with Mike and El, but…”

Lucas blows out a breath. “Yeah. Their level of PDA and a dark theater isn’t a good mix for anyone who wants to keep their popcorn down.”

“Exactly. Hey, hold this.”

She hands him the sack of fries and steps behind him. Before he can figure out what she’s doing she leaps up onto his back, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. Her whole body rumbles against him as she laughs while he staggers under the sudden weight, tipping back and forth on the street. After a second he regains his balance, squeezing her thighs against his sides.

“Shit, Max,” he laughs, starting forward again at a much slower rate. She keeps on laughing, her hair swinging back and forth and tickling his face. Something deep in his bones tugs at him then, swelling his heart with a surge of happy emotions. It’s just the two of them in the wind, carefree, and Lucas realizes the emotion that’s pressing outwards against his skin, threatening to burst through in a spectrum of light, is probably love.

Love? I love Max?

It’s the first time he’s thought it, but it doesn’t feel out of place. It feels like a truth that was there all along finally being brought back into the light where it belongs.

“Earth to Sinclair. What are you thinking about?” Max says, pushing her knee into his side to get his attention. He refocuses on the street ahead of him, brushing away his thoughts.

“Just you.”

“Typical. Everyone’s always thinking about me, Mad Max Mayfield, coolest person in town. Just out of curiosity though, not because I care, what about me?”

Making sure his pace is steady and he’s not about to trip over a rock, he risks craning his head back to look at her. Her features are relaxed, her smile soft, fondness in her eyes despite her tone.

Yeah. Probably love.

He’s screwed.

“Trying to decide just how pissed you’ll be if I dump you off my back right now.”

“You wouldn’t.”

He smiles, that warm something filling up his lungs. “No, I wouldn’t.”

“Why do we have to be so sneaky?” Max hisses as they tiptoe through Lucas’ kitchen.

“Because my parents are asleep, and if Erica sees us, she’ll never shut up,” he whispers, depositing the bag of fries on the island counter for their breakfast. He gestures back down the hall and they start making their way up the carpeted stairs.

“She doesn’t shut up. I mean I love her, but.”

“See?”

They manage to make it into Lucas’ room without running into any loud-mouthed sisters and as soon as he shuts the door, Max kicks off her shoes, drops her skateboard, and collapses on his bed with a luxurious sigh.

“I don’t wanna sound weird, but I love your bed. It’s awesome.”

He nods approvingly, pushing open the closet door. “It definitely is. Do you want your stuff?”

She started spending nights at his house earlier this spring, him on the floor and her on the bed, and they both came to an unspoken agreement that it was just easier for her to keep her essential stuff here in one of Lucas’ old backpacks in the corner of his closet. Pajamas, a toothbrush, an extra change of clothes, stuff like that.

“Not yet. Just…lay with me for a minute?” she asks quietly.

“Oh. Yeah, okay.”

He tugs off his shoes and climbs up next to her, leaving what he hopes is a respectable amount of distance between them. She rolls onto her side, back pressed against the wall below the window. Her hand reaches out to tug on his shirt.

“You can get closer than that. I’m not gonna stick my fangs in your neck.”

“Yet,” Lucas mumbles, shifting closer all the same until she tangles their legs together.

And then it’s just her and her soft breathing, her eyes that glitter in the dark and her warm presence. Everything that makes her Max, all right here with him. Sometimes it’s hard for him to believe. Max.

“Thanks for letting me stay,” she whispers.

“Anytime. I like it when you’re here.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I like you.”

“That’s a relief,” she says with the smallest hint of a laugh. He smiles even though it’s too dark to see. Time slips and slides, their eyelids getting heavier and heavier with each moment.

“Max?”

“Present.”

“I’m glad I met you. I know the circumstances kind of sucked, but…”

For a moment he’s afraid he said the wrong thing – he didn’t exactly think it through – but then her fingertips press into his chest, his shoulder, searching, until they trace down his arm and fold into his hand.

“I’m glad I met you too.” She leans forward, gently pressing her lips to his. It’s warm and sweet and fills him with a kind of joy only Max seems to be able to create. A few moments pass before she pulls away, her voice slightly more tired and slurred this time. “I’m falling asleep.”

“Me too.”

She pulls their hands up to rest on the bed between their chests. “You don’t have to sleep on the floor.”

“Do you want me to?”

“Not really.”

“Okay.”

“Cool.”

He squeezes her hand, and she squeezes back, and the sweet summer night slides by until they fall asleep side by side.

let me know if you’d like to be added/removed from my taglist!

@calpurnias @she-who-the-river-could-not-hold @michael-hearteyes-wheeler @summer-in-hawkins @sadiesinkt @you-wont-lose-me @caseyk112 @fatechica @elizabthturner @mikewheeler

#summaries?? i don't know her #also #this is my very first time writing lumax??? i didn't think so but then i looked through my fics and realized yes indeed it is #unless you count that smidge of them in my sfs fic which i DON'T #anyways #i'm really happy with how it turned out #stranger things #lumax #lucas sinclair #max mayfield #anna puts words together

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morphituu · 5 years

Text

Bell Peppers Ch. 15

“Calamity”

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He winced, not nearly as bad as before when his arms rose, yet the iron in his weak hand trembled nonetheless. Her own flew up to steady the weights, but he shook his head, pulling in deep breaths.

“This is too soon,”

He shook his head again, slowly straightening his arms. A long groan, and Callie supported his elbows.

“Nick,”

“S’fine,” he forced, but nevertheless dropped his arms, his head falling back as he exhaled forcefully.

“You’re supposed to do your breathing exercises,” she implored, struggling herself to carry the weights away. He snorted, lacing his fingers atop his head.

“I got all squishy, I need to bulk back up,” he groused, but now she snorted.

“These ain’t no marshmallows,” she smiled, patting his bicep. “You still have 2 weeks to ‘bulk up’, so be kind to your body, please?”

He shrugged, extending his neck to kiss her sweetly when she leaned against him with a hold on his hips.

“Okay c’mon,” she kissed him once more, stepping back. “Arms up,”

With a stubborn groan, he flexed his biceps, bringing his elbows in and out in sync with deep breaths as she did.

“Hurt as much?”

“Nah, haven’t needed the ice packs in a couple days too,” he grunted, lifting his hands and curling over sideways. It was true- the past week had been kinder to him. Sleeping was easier, even sitting, and gradually he’d found himself needing his pain meds less and less.

“Can you snarl again?” she giggled, baring her blunt teeth in exaggerated fashion so he would, but his split lip didn’t sting any longer. The stitches had done their job, and now pink scars across his lips, high cheek and brow were his daily reminder.

Nick’s arms hung off her shoulders when she stepped towards him, applying the slightest amount of pressure against his ribs on either side while he took deep breaths, in and out.

“Y’know if you don’t feel up to going back-”

“We still have 2 weeks,” he kindly interrupted, earning a stubborn purse of her lips when she looked up. “I’ll be good to go by then,”

“Until some jackass swings or rushes you,”

“I’ll swing back,”

“What if you can’t?”

He stopped, his wrists crossing behind her so she’d move that much closer. She wasn’t moving, but it wouldn’t be long until she was chewing her lip or bouncing her heel, and that’s when the anxiety would flow instead of trickle.

“Take a breath,” he told her, placing a lingering kiss on her temple when she looked away, respiring. “I won’t go right back into the heavy stuff, baby,” he kissed her cheek. “Keep breathing,”

Callie nodded, blinking past the constricting of her chest she could feel behind her eyes, and at last melted against him. Nick embraced her, swaying gently, hoping to eradicate this attack before it even peaked.

“It’s been happening more lately,” he said against her hair, but she only groaned.

“I don’t want anything else to happen to you,”

“Nothing will,” he consoled, leaning back to study her eyes. Worried, but otherwise clear; she avoided this one. He kissed her, squeezing her shoulders beneath his hold when she whimpered. “Nothing else is gonna happen,” he added.

Yet there was still dissatisfaction on her face before she said, “What about him?”

“Fogteeth-”

“You need to tell the police, Nick,”

Before he could turn from her, she held tight, leaning over when he looked away. “You have to at least give someone a heads up that their own officer is a suspect!”

“And who do you think they’d believe?”

“You don’t know until you try,”

But when he opened his mouth to protest, she held a finger against her own lips, silencing him. “And I know- I remember: I don’t know the full scope of your past experience as an Orc,” she started, and he calmed, resting his hands on his narrow hips. “But this is an exception, Nick. You have to at least give Ward notice. He might know how to handle something like this,”

“Please?” she asked again, leaning far back to keep eye contact when he craned to pull her into a hug again.

“Only to Ward for now,” he agreed, chuffing happily when she curled her arms around his neck. He could hear the faintest of a ‘thank fucking god’ muffled between her shoulder and his jaw, stirring a throaty chuckle from him. “Have so little faith in me?”

“If you weren’t so stubborn,” she sighed. “Thank you.”

Above all, he agreed for her peace of mind; whatever it took to keep her from falling into that dark pit that had recently become her common hangout. As the days drew nearer to his return to work, the worse it became, always telling him how deeply she worried for him.

A piercing ring of his phone from inside caused a low rumble in his chest, and he reluctantly detached from her with a final kiss upon her cheek. He wobbled away, waving his hand back when she insisted he grab the cane and found his phone vibrating against the tables surface.

“Uh oh,” he mumbled to himself. “Hey Ma,”

“Yah, hey Ma, like you keep up with your own parents enough to act all casual,” his mother derided, her heavy accent making him snort away from the phone before he’d take her seriously.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, still grinning.

“But will you start keeping in contact? Ah, who knows! Where’ve you been, my boy?”

“I’ve been home, resting,” he sighed, nodding when Callie gestured to the kitchen as she walked by.

“And in all this time you couldn’t call me or your father? Not even your auntie?” She was really playing it up now, but he knew below the dramatic teasing, she was pissed he hadn’t kept in better contact.

“You could call too, y’know,” he grumbled, following Callie when she held up two options for dinner.

“Do you need me to send screenshots of all the unanswered calls, boy?”

He snorted. “No, it’s fine-”

“Why are you in such a good mood?”

He stuttered a bit, leaning against the counter. “Feeling better,”

“Uh-huh, and who’s been helping you then?”

Nick paused, watching Callie grab various items from the fridge and tug on his hand when she needed his height up from the top shelf above the fridge. He pinched her hip playfully after she shoved him half-heartedly, giggling when he pulled her back to mouth her cheek.

“A friend, Ma,” he lied, but he heard her blow a raspberry.

“What’s her name then?” Dinara asked, and he could just see her arms crossing, and that all-knowing look that made him feel 10 years old again.

Nick sighed; no use hiding her now. “Callie,”

Cal spun, cocking a brow, but he knew the gears were rotating in both the women's heads. The silence from the other end of the line was unnerving.

“Callie?”

“Mhm,”

Another brief silence. “Nick,” Dinara said, flatly, and he tensed.

“Mhm?”

“Is she…?”

He swallowed. “Yep,”

“Human!? She’s human?”

Before he could even get anything out, a male voice started to butt it’s way into the conversation alongside hissed curses as Nick’s father finagled the phone from his wifes grasp.

“Nick? Nick, she’s human? How did you manage?” Oleg asked, laughing. Knowing his dad, he was probably holding back on the questions he really wanted to ask: how much easier are humans than Orcs?

“Shut up, Oleg- give it- go, back off. Nick, how long? How long have you known her?” Dinara came back in, but now Nick had moved from the kitchen, pointing to his knee when Callie raised her hands in question.

“Nine-ish months?” he pondered, sitting at his table with a hard exhale.

“That long- why haven’t we met her?”

“Look how you just reacted,” he mumbled, and he was sure his mothers jaw slammed shut.

Another beat of silence. “You haven’t always had the best relationship with humans, my boy,” she sighed.

“This one is different,” he told her, his eyes following Callie. ��I’m sure she’s not entirely human, sometimes- she’s too perfect,”

“Is that so?” She asked, kinder, and he only gave her a little ‘mhm’. “How’s that?”

He leaned onto an elbow, pondering a moment. “She’s never treated me like I was an Orc, like- I don’t feel like an outcast around her. I can’t put it into good words, Ma- she’s just… she’s just my girl,” he finished, feeling foolish for being unable to explain just why he was so endlessly in love with Callie, but also knew a great majority of that was their long talks, and the way she looked and touched him, and finished his life before he’d even planned it out thus far.

“Oh Nick, you fell hard for this one?” Dinara asked lovingly.

“She is the one, Ma,” he grinned when Callie cracked a goofy smile after handing him a few of the chicharrones she’d just finished frying, alongside an ice-pack she tossed on the table. He kissed her hand before she stepped away, earning another smile. “Come meet her,”

“Oh- really? Really?” Dinara squeaked. “He wants us to meet his human girlfriend,” she said away from the phone, and his dad answered with something unintelligible, the two of them carrying on a conversation of their own.

Nick continued to watch Callie dance around his kitchen, stumbling here and there- she was still a bit shaky from earlier, but even without normal grace, she was a moving piece of art.

“When can we go over?” She asked.

↠

“Okay- ah okay okay,” he exhaled, his stomach tensing with every swipe of her tongue over his sensitive head. She finally slid back, her lips gliding over the velvet skin of his shaft and placing a sweet kiss on his relaxed dick before swallowing the last of his load.

He was lifeless against the mattress, panting, a toothy grin on his face. He summoned enough energy to look up at her, but groaned, watching a seldom trail of semen that had trailed down her chin and under her jaw start to makes it way down her neck.

Holy fucking shit fuck- “On your chin,” he pointed, rolling before he stared for too long and got going all over again.

Callie left with a giggle to the bathroom, leaving him deflated, but otherwise entirely content. He stretched pleasantly, his joints popping and his leg shaking, finally stilling across the cool sheets with a long chuff.

“You okay?” she asked, leaning naked in the doorway and throwing back a small cup of mouthwash.

“Still bitter?” he frowned, cracking an eye open. She shrugged, weighing her hands before wandering away again. He heard her spit before she called, “It’s not that bad- you know me,”

He hmm-ed, moving his arms around like he was making an angel in the snow.

But with the approach of light footsteps came the soft impression on the bed beside him, and then Callie leaning over to place soft kisses across his jaw, resting on her elbows beside his head. “Your turn,” she smiled, purposely sitting down against his hand.

He chuckled, but looked at her, reaching to hold her face.

Her brows furrowed, her lips pursing. “What?”

“You know I was on the phone with parents earlier?” he asked, and she nodded. “They wanna meet you,”

Callie sat up, alarm ringing in her eyes. “They do?”

He nodded, resting his hands under his head. “They do,”

“Do they know about what happened with us?”

“Nope,”

“Why?”

“What’s the point? It’d only make things tense,” he reasoned, and she nodded indifferently.

“When?” she asked.

“Saturday, here. Told them I’d cook,”

She exhaled, pushing her hair back. He grinned; he always enjoyed seeing her face so clearly, even if she was worrying her lip nervously.

“They’re gonna like you,” he buoyed, snatching her hand to kiss her fingers.

“Says the one who told me how vicious your mother was when she met your other girlfriends,” she whined.

“You’re different,”

“Oh yeah?” How?”

Nick sat up, inclining close to her, and kissing her sweetly once before saying, “I didn’t plan to marry any of those other girls,”

It didn’t register right away, but when it did, he saw the gravity of his words flicker across her face. First it was a loose smile, then the furrowed brows, them pure confusion, all making him smirk.

“What?” she croaked.

“You heard me,”

She situated better, scooting ever so slightly closer on her knees. “How’re you so confident after everything that’s happened? You never once thought we were hopeless?”

“Sure, but I never stopped feeling it. No matter what I did. It’s been the same since I first saw you. Hit me like a bullet to the heart,” he explained, witnessing the glaze move over her eyes.

“Wh-” she cleared her throat when her voice cracked severely, moving her hair behind her ears. “Why?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Cause of the shit you’ll get for wanting to be with someone like me,”

He blew air. “I don’t give a fuck what anyone says, even if it’s our families. And it doesn’t have to be soon, hell it can be on our deathbeds, but no matter what, I’m gonna marry you one day Callie. Even if we’ve only known each other so briefly, and some of it was apart, I can’t fathom a life without you,”

She blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “You’re so sure you wanna spend that long with me?”

“Are you asking me, or yourself?” he questioned, leaning on a hand closer to her. “If you don’t want to spend that long with me, it’s okay-”

“I’m asking you. I know what I want- but do you?” she asked softly.

He kissed her again, resting his forehead against hers. “I want forever with you. Everything about you-”

“My anxiety?”

“Callie-”

“I can never give you a family,” she grieved, but he hushed her, kissing her silent.

“Anything, everything, always. You can’t scare me away,” he laughed, and so did she, but the restlessness of her heart was still rampant. “But first, you gotta meet my parents,”

She frowned. “Is this how you felt?”

“You’re probably feeling worse, honestly,”

Her ankle was wiggling beneath her bottom. “If they end up hating me I’m so sorry,”

“They won’t. If they do, still can't get rid of me,” he muffled against her neck, sitting forward onto his good knuckles.

Her hands guided his face back to hers, audibly sighing when she kissed him. He moved the fringe from her face, his wide palms holding her head as she showered him with smooches.

“Can we get dogs after we're married?” she asked, and he snorted again, nodding against her kiss.

“Pitbulls,” they said in unison. Some light giggling, the soft smacking of their kisses as he started to push her back, her arms snaking around his neck as she pulled her legs from under him and spread her knees to his sides. This was pure- smothered beneath his big body, touching every sturdy strand of muscle beneath his rough skin that rubbed against hers.

“Mm,” he breathed against her skin, moving down. “You smell good,” he bit her ribs gently, making her squirm. “Like really good,”

“Oh yeah?” she sighed, her waist raising when his cheek scraped down her stomach, lithe fingers fisting in the sheets above her head.

“So good.” he growled, his body snaking down between her legs, maneuvering his broad shoulders until her spread thighs were pushed closer to her chest, and he could worship her soaked core, listening intently to the way she cried his name.

“Nick go-” she giggled, pushing him away. “Daryl’s right there!”

“Two minutes,” he growled against her cheek, his arms around her preventing any escape.

“No,” a chaste kiss on his lips. “Go, get out, go!”

Nick grumbled, his face souring as he unwound from her reluctantly, his arms still heavy at her sides. “Are you starting soon?”

“Maybe- is that why you’re so hot to trot lately?” she exclaimed.

“Well duh, you just smell so… fertile,”

Callie laughed out, finally getting him off and turning his shoulders towards the door with a smack on his ass. “Take the cane,”

“Nope,”

“Take it,”

“Nope,”

“Nick-”

“I’ll see you later,” he called, opening the door to find Daryl waiting with his hands in his pockets, staring at the Orcs scattered about the street in their cars.

“Hey partner,” Nick chimed, trying to squeeze his way out as Callie walked at him with the cane.

“Why are there so many 'round here?” Ward asked, holding the door.

“Let's get going-”

“Cane,” Callie snapped, shoving it at him. Ward smirked watching Nick buckle and grab it, glaring at her before a final kiss.

“How you doing Daryl?” she asked, stepping out for a quick hug and peck on the cheek.

“Good as I can be,”

“Yeah, how’s your wife?” she asked through a forced smile, earning a small push from Nick.

“Still hates you,” he quirked back. “Your boy have all his pills?”

“Oh yeah- make sure he doesn’t ‘accidentally’ forget the cane, yeah?”

Nick shot her a final narrow glare, chuffing playfully as the two officers walked from the house. Surely he didn’t need the assistance anymore; there wasn’t even much of a limp left, but the extra help couldn’t hurt. Anything to have him as close to normal by the time his recovery was up. She knew there was no way his captain would approve any additional time off if needed.

“Got your lil mama back in the home, huh?” Ward smiled coyly, and although Nick chose to shrug, he caught the Orcs puffed chest and hidden smirk.

“Yeah,” he finally said, sitting in his sedan.

“So where to, blue boy?” Ward asked, pulling onto the street.

“Hanks? Same spot?”

“Dunno, is it secluded enough to share this urgent information that couldn’t wait?”

Nick rolled his eyes. “Those were Callie’s words,”

“Were they true though?” he eyed Nick, who in turn was messing with the cane between his knees.

“Yeah, more or less.”

“Okay,” Ward exhaled, setting his half eaten sandwich aside and ready to also set aside their small talk that Nick had kept up the duration of the car ride and visit to the regular lunch hangout. “What’re we doing here?”

Over the weeks, Nick and Callie had started to pick up on each others nervous tics. She would sometimes run her tongue over her bottom teeth as if she had filed tusks, and now his knee was bouncing.

“That prick we work with- Gerrald?” Nick started.

“What about him?”

“I think he did it,”

“Did it… did it? Him?” Ward intoned, leaning forward onto his elbows.

Nick nodded. “He’s always had an issue with me, but I think he wants to get his hands on Callie,”

“How’d you come to that?”

“You’ve heard the shit he said, left in my locker- spread around the station? ‘Nd bout a week ago Callie picked up a shift at Two Hands-” he waved off Ward’s surprised gaze. “She said he was there, had bought out a private dance with her and cornered her saying shit about how she used to be his favorite girl, some shit about old times,”

“Just from that?” Ward questioned.

“He’s always had his eyes on her, all this time. I wondered why he fuckin’ picked and bugged when Callie first showed up at the station, and I think that’s why. He could’ve been planning this for years but didn’t have the momentum until I came into the picture,” he groaned, running his hand over his head.

Ward pondered, the pieces almost audibly clicking together in his head. “The shit the attacker said to you,”

“Sound familiar?”

They both leaned back in their seats, but Ward held his own chin, shaking his head. “Gerrald dipped,”

Nick blinked. “What?”

“Bastards been MIA for a few days now. Heig called his wife and she doesn’t know where he bounced off to. There’s a warrant out for his arrest, too,”

“What?”

Ward nodded. “Took off with a few shotguns and ammo from the kit room, but we can’t find him anywhere,”

“Shotguns?” Nick hissed, and Ward nodded.

“I think it’s worth telling Heig,”

Nick shook his head. “We can’t,”

“Look I know the shit you put up with-”

“I have Fogteeth involved,” Nick mumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose with his eyes pinched shut. “You have three behind you,”

Daryl didn’t move, no matter how severely tempted he was to turn and glare, but instead, the full front of his silent fury hit Nick. There was that vein that bulged along his temple, and when he talked-

“How involved?” He said through grit teeth, his outward appearance otherwise calm.

She shielded her eyes against the winter sun once the mugs were set down, and searched the numerous cars parked along the street for a familiar face. But when she finally found him sat in his car, just like every other day, she whistled loudly. Matuk turned, pulling an ear bud out, and nodding when she waved him over.

Callie pulled the jacket tighter around her waist as she sat, cradling her own mug close to her chest. Another storm was moving it’s way over LA, with strong gusts rattling the screen roll that usually hung before Nick’s porch. With it up, she could always survey from a window inside, and had come to recognize all of the cars the Fogteeth used, and of course Matuk’s SUV.

“Hey cutie,” she played, but he moved past her into the other seat, grabbing the hot mug. “Figured you got tired of sitting in the car,”

He shrugged. “If I could nap it wouldn’t be so bad,” he mumbled, sipping the creamy tea.

“Can’t switch shifts?” she inquired, her feet raising to rest on the beams.

“Nope,”

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, her nails drumming against the ceramic mug. He shrugged again.

“At least there’s compensation,”

“Money in being Fogteeth?”

“Sometimes,”

She nodded. “Maybe I should join,” Now he laughed, and she cocked a brow. “I could do it,”

“If you sprouted tusks maybe,” he chuckled, his hoarse voice the lightest she’d heard yet.

“And I gained about 100 pounds worth'a muscle?”

He nodded, situating deeper into the seat. Callie watched him, seemingly moving effortlessly despite his impressive size. She was sure he could crush the mug that looked minute in his hand easily if he chose.

“How old are you?” she asked then, and he eyed her. “Im just curious- Nick always refers to you as ‘the kid’,”

Matuk rolled his eyes. “Seventeen,”

She blinked. “Really? So young?”

He nodded, flashing a forced grin.

“And already with kids?” She’d tried numerous times to ask the question that had picked at her since she’d first met him at the supermarket, but never had the chance to bring it up casually until now.

“Who said I had kids?” he grimaced.

“When you first started following me around, you left a store with diapers and lollipops,”

“For my baby sisters,” he corrected, looking at her. Ahh, that’s precious.

“A girlfriend waiting around for you all day?” she kept on pushing, keeping eye contact from behind her mug.

“Nah,” he mumbled, looking back out to the street. “Boyfriend,”

Callie smiled, her mug resting in her lap. It made a little more sense now- before she thought his politeness was simply because he wasn’t interested, but Nick had told her that it didn’t matter what race a girl could be. If they were aroused, an Orc would know, and more than likely act on it. “What’s his name?”

He looked at her nervously, before answering, “Larek, but I call him ‘Lala’ so my family thinks its a girl,”

She got that. She didn’t know how Orcs usually handed that type of predicament, but she knew full well just how old school Mexican families could be.

“How long?”

“Couple years,”

“I wish I could offer some wisdom but I think I’d end up saying something color blind instead of doing any real help,” Callie stated, adjusting in the chair.

He gave her a sidelong glance. “That’s funny coming from a human who dates an Orc,”

“That’s different,” she assured.

“Not too much. So what’s next for you and munguz?” he asked, sliding down his chair that barely held him.

“Dunno, figured we’d see where it goes,” she said although Nick’s bold statement about marriage had saddled her mind since that late night.

“How’re you so calm?” Matuk asked, and she looked at him again, puzzled.

“Calm?”

“Cause you’re-”

The sharp, piercing screech of tires burning across the pavement pulled both of their attention before them, but Matuk was on his feet before Callie even recognized what was happening.

A sedan had swiped one of the watching Orcs cars, and was winding down the street hazardously as the driver struggled to regain control, but only gained speed with every foot covered. First it was the one that was hit, then another car, then a third following the hitter, all peeling onto the road after him.

“Go inside.” Matuk ordered, gliding down the steps and across the yard.

It had gone from a hit and run to something alarming, instantly. She didn’t bother with the cups, nor the knocked over chair as she stumbled into Nick’s home, locking the door behind herself.

She wanted to look out the window, finding the silence from outside more unsettling than anything, but couldn’t find the courage to do so. She stood in the middle of his living room, the impending loom of disbelief snaking up her legs.

“Matuk?” she called weakly. Should I hide?

But then figures started moving outside, at a distance. Her heart was pounding so loud in her ears, she couldn’t tell what it was.

Shadows against the windows, what she hoped were Fogteeth.

The doorknob jiggled, and yanked roughly in it’s joint.

“Oh fuck.” she whispered, backing up. Her hand patted her hips- no phone, and when her eyes jumped, she couldn’t find it.

A deafening bang from the other side of the door made her flinch, and it rattled in it’s frame.

The brief words passed behind the door distracted her hands that had jutted beneath the couch in search of the bat, but when there were two more thunderous bangs, her fingertips brushed the bat.

When she rose with it clutched in her hands, the door swung open, smacking against the adjacent wall.

No way this aluminum bat would stop the two lumbering Orcs stomping in, their tusks covered with ski masks, but there was nothing left to do but fight, even though she was ready to burst into tears and hide. Everything on her trembled terribly, especially her hands that couldn’t seem to find decent grip.

Callie screamed inarticulately when they lunged at her, swinging wildly, but also backing herself up into a corner if she kept moving away.

She tried stepping forward, but they’d reclaim their space when she ultimately flinched back when one of them spooked her.

They watched her carefully, their hateful eyes without fear, even if it meant taking a swing from a bat.

If she moved any farther back, all she’d have left was to run out the back, but what if they-

“Gotcha!”

A set of arms wrapped around her in a crushing hug, and yanked her up, effectively shaking the bat from her hands.

“Let me go- get the fuck off!” she hollered, kicking, fighting, screaming, clawing for anything. One of the Orcs grabbed her ankles as another closed the door barely hung from its hinge, and the mysterious figure holding her backed up, carrying her away.

The hallway was narrow, and she used it to her advantage.

With a loud shout and sudden twist of her body, she managed to wiggle enough that the person holding her loosened and bounced awkwardly against the wall, and she pulled them to the ground as she fell.

But she was up faster. She didn’t bother looking- she was on her feet, bolting for Nick’s room, but another hand around her wrist yanked her back, and the crack in her arm made her cry out.

She slammed against the ground with a hard slap, the wind coming out of her in harsh coughs.

Callie felt the blinding smack of a fist against her temple before she heard it, alongside the loud popping of her neck when her head flew to the side, her cheek smacking against the floor. She raised her hands, but another one blew into the side of her face.

Coppery blood filled her cheek, and her lip stung like a bitch when a large hand clutched her neck mercilessly. She clawed at it, her feet kicking again when the weight of a knee in her stomach stopped her, more coughs squeezing from her. They were heavy- the hand was tight, breathing was difficult.

So was focusing- she couldn’t make out what was leaning over her. Definitely a person, but who?

They were breathing in her face, and the trace of a hand alongside her thigh made her flinch, and fight again.

Her mouth opened to scream just as the wide swing of a boot landed against her side. She choked, her chest aching once the air had left her body but still constricted, but another blow followed soon after, right at the center of her stomach.

She wheezed, clawing across the floor, reaching, but another hand yanked against a firstful of hair, pulling her up.

“Look at me,” a male snarled, but she was too afraid.

A sharp slap against her cheek, and she tried to move from their grasp, her scalp burning.

“Look at me!” it bellowed, and her eyes finally opened, but this time, she couldn’t stop the torrent of sobs that left her.

“See what you made me do? You know how long it’s gonna take for that face to heal before I wanna see you dance again?” he shouted, back-handing her.

She forced blood from her nose, her hands raising shakily to try and pry Gerralds hands from her hair, but her hand could barely make a first.

“Don’t worry, I’ll let you go” he taunted, tossing her down.

The back of her head bounced off the ground, and it felt like ages before she could roll on her side, and focus on Nick’s room, but her vision was washing over with red.

Just crawl- fucking crawl, Callie. She tried. Her arm was useless- she couldn’t even lean on it without weeping in pain, but her limbs didn’t listen. It took too long to tell each to move, and by the time her good arm had extended, he was pulling her back by the ankles again, the Orc from before grabbing her and flipping her.

She screamed for Nick, for Matuk- anyone, but there was only the perverse laughter behind her.

The tear of duct tape made her flinch, and she tried to kick her legs when she felt it winding around her knees, digging sharply into her skin.

Callie screamed- begging for help past the blood coating her mouth, but the Orcs monstrous hand smothered her face, and held down against her chest.

“Almost done, Valeria, hang on sweet girl,” Gerrald cooed, moving over her, and grabbing her wrists.

She sobbed, and fought against him, muffled behind the strong hand pushing her head sideways, but he easily grasped her wrists and wound the tape around them, tighter than around her knees.

“We’re gonna go now,” he breathed heavily, bringing her broken face up. “We’re gonna go away, and I’m gonna show you,” he paused, sneering, moving her plastered hair from her face. She whimpered, trying to move from his hold. “I’m gonna show you why you should’ve never left hunan.”

“NO, NO, HELP!” She screamed, thrashing, even as the two lifted her.

There was another loud slam of the door swinging open, and suddenly she was dropped, her head bouncing against the floor again.

It was quiet a moment, her body so still. The pain felt like a dull ache, bearable, almost muted enough to let her sleep.

But she turned, and saw the two Orcs fighting off more that had rushed in, but the new ones were brandishing the Fogteeth colors. They overtook the attackers, two more Fogteeth bolting over her and down the hall in pursuit. There was so much commotion- yelling, the table breaking under their iron bodies as they fought, more shouting.

Callie curled inwards, the pain in her abdomen worsening by the second, spreading down her thighs. The throb in her skull was debilitating, and the light coming in from the door was extreme.

“Callie?”

Her crusted eyes opened, but she flinched when hands reached for her.

“It’s me, it’s okay,” Matuk panted, carefully moving her hands up and cutting the tape. It ripped painfully from her skin, her broken arm ringing. She cried, her arms remaining drawn in as the tape around her knees was released.

“You’re okay- you’re gonna be okay.” he kept saying, but it all kept getting worse.

She sobbed when he moved his arms beneath her, cradling her against his chest and carrying her.

She slipped back and forth into blackness, only to be boomeranged back into consciousness and pain when someone jostled her. The muffled shouting was bugging her, and she slurred at them to shut up, but wasn’t sure if anyone understood her.

There was the blaring alarm of an ambulance, and people around her, but she couldn’t open her eyes against the sunny skies, so instead pressed her inflamed face into Matuk’s chest. The cold air felt better, but everything was hurting. Her stomach felt like it was folding in on itself, her arm constantly sending resounding shocks across her chest, her head throbbing.

She begged for relief when she could, but there was only the stiff mattress of the gurney beneath her once Matuk had placed her there, and his hand leaving hers when she was loaded into the rig, a neck brace pulling her jaw upwards.

She was wincing, her lip stinging when her face pinched, and her hands shaking as she rested them over her stomach.

“It hurts.” she sobbed, a paramedic leaning over her to talk, but everything was incomprehensible.

All she could understand was pain.

I want Nick.

↠

Nick bypassed the check-in counter, pushing through anyone in his way, ignoring when nurses tried to stop him.

He smacked the doors that lead to the triage center, the ones that wouldn’t open no matter how viciously he thrashed.

“Jakoby calm down!” Ward begged, trying to yank back the raging Orc, but he was like a wall of iron, unmovable.

“Where is she-“ he panted, spinning to find anyone besides the nurses urging him to calm down. “I need to see my girlfriend,” he tried, but they weren’t helping him. They continued to shut him down, ordering him to leave, telling him he was scaring the other people waiting in reception.

“Open the fucking doors!” He bellowed, but Ward had him around the shoulders now, finally dragging him back some.

“Nick shut up- c’mon move, move with me,” Daryl struggled, pulling him away, but now security was coming at them. “Nick you need to calm the fuck down or you’ll be asking for her behind bars,” Ward hissed, but it was like he was caught in a delirious cloud. He was wobbly, gripping Daryl’s arms harshly. “He’s a cop- we’re LAPD, it’s fine,” Ward told the security guards, still trying to speak to Nick directly.

Ward spoke in his favor, trying to rid the small huddle of nurses around them, insistent that Nick leave, but he shook his head with raging eyes, struggling not to growl or shout anymore.

“My girlfriend is here- her sister called me,” Nick pleaded.

“Unless you’re family you can’t go back until-”

“Her sister called me!” he snapped, but Daryl pulled him back again.

More indiscernible shouting, the security starting to reach for Nick’s hands even though Daryl did his best to talk over everyone and reserve his rights.

“Nick!”

His head spun, finding Rosie coming from the door he’d tried opening, still in uniform.

In two steps he was across the room.

“I called him in,” she declared, both of them turning away.

“Ma’am you can’t-”

“I said I vouch for him.” she snapped, silencing anymore rebuttal from the people around them.

Finally through the door, he didn’t lag in the slightest as they started their way through the curtained beds and overall commotion of an emergency room.

“All they told me was she was assaulted,” he quavered, his eyes jumping wildly.

“She’s been in and out since she got here- she has a lot of tests and scans to get through but she can at least respond when she’s awake,” Rosie told him, and at last approached a curtain. Pulling it back only revealed an empty room, and both of them spun wildly.

“Where-” Nick started.

“Stay here,” Rosie said as she left again, but he didn’t want to stay.

It smelled like blood, and there was some peppered across the floor alongside soaked gauze. Her shirt was there also, cut down the middle, stained.

He whined, holding his head, walking in circles. He was fighting the urgency to run through every room of the hospital to find her, and be by her. He needed to know she was okay- that she could talk, and know he was there.

He spun when the curtain rings scraped, but it was Rosie, alongside a male doctor. She looked grim, like news he didn’t know if he was ready to hear had been delivered to her first.

“This is the father,” Rosie introduced, shakily, and confusion flashed across his face.

“Sir? You’re Miss Flores’s partner?” the doctor asked, and Nick nodded. “I’m Deshawn Smith, I’m the attending that triaged Calista when she came in,” he explained calmly, extending his hand to shake Nick’s weak grip.

“Nick,” the orc mumbled. Father?

“The extent of her injuries won’t be known until we’ve finished the scans she’s in right now for, but I don’t see anything life threatening based on preliminary tests,”

Nick exhaled, having not realized he was holding his breath.

“What we know right now is her right arm is broken, and all of the gashes on her are superficial, but she might have some bleeding on the brain which is why I've ordered a number of scans. Now there’s some information I need from you,” Deshawn said, pulling out a small notebook and pen from his breast pocket. “How far along was she?”

“Far along?” he repeated, and Rosie’s hand rested on his arm.

“Nick-”

“In her pregnancy, sir,” Deshawn clarified.

That broke through his thoughts; shattered the haze like glass. His heart that was once clapping madly in his heart was only a small flutter now, the wind effectively knocking from his lungs. A stunning presence was suddenly filling his heart, a blinding disbelief turning his gut.

“She’s pregnant?” Nick cracked, and Rosie’s hand on his shoulder tightened.

Deshawn adjusted the cards clipped to his scrub nervously, blinking a few times. “Were- were you unaware?”

Nick nodded.

The doctor cleared his throat. “Sir,” he adjusted his glasses this time. “I truly hate having to tell you this, but unfortunately she’s miscarried,”

...what?

What?

His mouth motioned to speak, but he couldn’t force it up over the crushing disappointment sitting on his chest. Just as the presence in his heart had become so familiar, so quickly, it was gone- ripped away. All at once, the reality of the situation came crashing back around him after his momentary escape into bliss.

“We believe it was the blunt force trauma to her abdomen and overall stress the attack had on her body that caused it,” Deshawn explained, but he only saw vacant eyes staring back at him. “I’m truly sorry, Nick. Would you like me to come back to speak with you when you’ve had time to process this news?”

It took a few times repeating in his head to really hear what he’d asked, but Nick shook his head.

He listened to him explain that Callie was beaten brutally, but for the time being, they didn’t expect her to pass or fall into a coma. He listened as he explained that she’d be in hospital for a few days, but recovery time wouldn’t be as lengthy as his. And he questioned, silently, in his own head, how he hadn’t known that she’d been pregnant? How did he not sense it?

↠

Almost 2 AM.

The hall had gone quiet long ago, mostly nurses moving around at this point.

Exhaustion hung on him, but he was too restless to sleep. All day he’d followed nurses from room to room, listening second hand as more of Callie’s family came in, all gathering in the lobby. They didn’t come up to him, but he didn’t approach them either. He’d returned to cowering away, his head hung. Sometimes Rosie would sit by him, sharing updates, encouraging him to eat or drink, but he couldn’t. Concern roiled his gut; there’d be no keeping food down.

By the time she’d received her own room, he didn’t pour into her room when her family did.

Although he’d waited all day to even see a glimpse of her face, he couldn’t be near when they learned he’d knocked her up. They already hated him, he thought. They’d scream and murder him when they knew.

It engrossed him entirely. Callie had been pregnant, by him, with their baby, and now she wasn’t. All that time not knowing something was blooming in her womb. He buried his face in his palms again, breathing deeply.

The world could swallow him up from his feet at that moment, and it would’ve been a relief. He’d rather feel anything but this.

Nick didn’t think anything of the footsteps approaching him until he spotted boots out of the corner of his eye instead of the normal nurse attire.

Matuk and Doghru, but younger male was worse for wear. Half his face was swollen, cut, bruised- a bandaged hand held close to his chest.

“Nick,” Dorghu acknowledged calmly, waiting for Nick to stand. His handshake was weak, as was his overall mental state. He didn’t try to shake hands with the kid.

“We need to talk,” Dorghu stated, motioning over towards the stairwell.

“Matuk,” the scarred Orc nodded, leaning against the railing to the stairs. Matuk stepped forward, his eyes fleeting many times from Nick’s hard gaze.

“It was the cop,” he said first, his speech slurred.

The delirious anger was immediate. It turned Nick, having to steady himself against the wall. He fucking knew it- he knew he’d try to make a move but thought the protection would be enough.

“He came with other Orcs, from the Volki- they distracted Jregh and Sarod and Urul and ambushed me when I was checking around your house,” he explained, ashamed, his head hung. “They were trying to kidnap her when I came in, but the cop bolted before anyone could get him-”

“He did that to her?” Nick interrupted.

Matuk nodded, sniffling. “I’m sorry,”

He tried not to hate him- it wasn’t his fault. It really wasn’t, but without Gerrald there to murder, he needed someone to blame- to make sense of this nightmare.

“Is she okay?”

“I haven’t seen her yet,” Nick mumbled. I haven’t seen my own fucking girlfriend yet. Nick exhaled, looking at Dorghu. “She was pregnant,”

The head of the Fogteeth stepped forward, looking between them. Dorghu looked as shocked as Rosie did when they first explained her condition, but with a roll of his shoulders, he’d composed any emotion.

“It didn’t survive,” he stated, already knowing. Nick shook his head, on the verge of collapsing. His body had never ached so terribly.

A sturdy hand on his shoulder brought his eyes back up.

“I’m sorry,” Dorghu said, sincerely, offering comfort as best he knew. But Nick moved his hand, his arms raising in discomfort. He didn’t want condolences, or pity- he would handle that heartache when Callie was by his side.

“I need to find him,” Nick grumbled.

“We have the two that were with him. We’re working the details out of them,” Dorghu explained.

“How long?”

“However long they withstand torture,” Matuk said, looking up. “Volki can be resilient,”

“Not limitless, though,” Dorghu corrected, nodding thoughtfully at the young Orc.

“When you have him, I want to do it. I want to be there,” Nick said behind mashed teeth, breath flaring through his nostrils. “You have to tell me,”

“We will. You’ll square it, I’ll make sure,”

Nick nodded, and grabbed Dorghu’s hand when extended. “Give Calista our best.”

The two departed down the steps, and Nick saw the severe limp Matuk was burdened with as he struggled down. He took the moment to lean back against the cold wall, and close his eyes, letting the silence of the stairwell seep into his thoughts.

Fury rested at the borders of his coherent thoughts, but he could bridle it until the time came.

With a deep exhale, he walked from the stairwell and back down the hall, turning the corner to sit before Callie’s room again.

Rosie was there, and smiled vacantly when he approached.

“You okay?” she asked as he sat beside her.

He shrugged. “Needed a minute,” he lied.

“Yeah,” Rosie’s voice broke, her hand smoothing down her wild curls. “Callie’s awake, talking,” she told him, and his head snapped in her direction, his eyes brightening. “She’s asking for you,”

A remnant of a grin curled his mouth, but he looked at the door. “I’ll wait,”

“They’re not mad at you, Nick. They know it wasn’t your fault,” she told him, grabbing his arm.

“That doesn’t change how a parent feels about their kid being mauled,” he grumbled.

She sighed. They both drifted in their own thoughts for some time, only looking up when the commotion in her room heightened; they must’ve been getting ready to leave.

“She didn’t tell them about the baby,”

His head hung. Our baby.

The door opened, and they both stood. Callie’s parents and Patricia were there, tired, finding Nick immediately.

If it hadn’t been for the clear misery on Luciana’s face, he would’ve flinched when she reached for him, but instead, there was a tight embrace pulling him down. She was strong for her size, just like Callie, her grip unyielding as she suppressed small sobs.

“Watch over her,” she said, leaning back, holding his face. “I trust you. Stay by her side, yerno.” she said softly, her eyes red from obvious crying, a tissue clutched in her palm.

Nick nodded, nervously shaking hands with her wary father as they passed.

He didn’t expect Patricia to step forward, her usual cutting expression softened and her hands clasped before her, but he sidestepped, struggling to flatten his hateful expression.

There was no way he could speak to her without lashing out. He saw the messages- she had no business being here. Although she turned, and said his name, he instead briefly hugged Rosie before finally stepping to Callie’s room.

He moved silently, the room dark with the exception of a small wall light before the head of the bed.

But he saw her.

Curled on her side, her battered face moving up when he closed the door behind himself. Nick released a shaking breath, the burn behind his eyes enough to bring a hand to his face to rub over his eyelids.

Her casted hand reached for him just as he made it to her side, but he couldn’t kiss her split lips when he leaned over her, carefully lifting her whimpering body into a sitting position so he could cradle her against his chest. She was weak; her arms around him were loose, her body mostly limp in his hold. Nick rocked her carefully when she wept against him, moving her dirty, crusted hair from her face so he could look down at her, and mindfully wipe away tears that slipped down her bruised cheek.

He was fighting tears of his own, detailing her bloodshot eye sat inside a bruised socket and deep lacerations on her temple, the shallow burns around her knees he drew up closer, bringing her into his lap when he sat on her bed.

Nick made sure her IV tubes didn’t twist before he held her face, gently sshing her as her hoarse cries lessened.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” he repeated featherlight, clearing his throat often. “I’m so sorry- I thought you’d be safe at home with them all there,”

Her swollen lip trembled, her eyes still glossy, but she shook her head, a hand curling weakly under his chin.

“It’s not your fault,” she whispered, sniffling and wincing when her face stung. “It would’ve happened no matter who was there,”

He shook his head. “This should never've happened,”

Callie shrugged, barely, adjusting her head against his arm and closing her tired eyes. A lingering kiss on her cheek relaxed her, continuing to rock her gently. She was dozing off, barely managing to keep her eyes open; he couldn’t stop looking at her. He’d left her one way and come back to disaster. All the time he waited to see her felt so brief; it was little to endure now that he had her in his arms, and could hear her speak.

“I didn’t know I was pregnant,” she sighed, craning her neck back to look up at him. “I promise I didn’t know,”

“I know, I know,” he said shakily. Fuck- keep it together, you shit head. “Do you- do you know how far…?”

“They said a couple weeks,”

His face tightened. “Tiny little thing,”

Callie’s face was sorrowing, tears brimming her eyes once again as Nick’s own filled, unable to fight back the burn any longer.

“I thought it couldn’t happen, Nick,” she whispered, holding his head when it dropped into her shoulder, a choked cry shaking his broad shoulders as she threw a wobbly arm around his shoulders. His sobs were silent, but they swayed him, the tears soaking through her hospital gown. With delicacy, and grief, he clung to her injured form and fell apart, lifting his damp face to wipe it crudely against his shoulder when she started, knowing he had no business falling apart when she was the one handling all the aftermath.

But she still wiped his face, her powerless hands holding his cheeks when she kissed his forehead, whispering comforting words and declarations of undying love.

Their turmoil settled, ending with Callie lied nestled firmly against his chest, his arms about her protectively. He listened to her breathe as she slept, thankful for every one exhaled. It wasn’t until those moment did he realize that the signs of her pregnancy had been there all along.

The savory layer that had coated her skin, that allured him so deeply, was gone. Where once she smelled luscious, and so full of life, was only ill health now, and blood.

He moved his cheek against her head, watching where his knuckles pressed tentatively against her swollen stomach.

She stirred, and he rubbed her arm, pulling her closer when she burrowed her face against him.

Everything on him was exhausted- he needed sleep, but he couldn’t flip the switch in his mind. The longer he stayed still, the stronger the ire became. Above all, he wished he could turn back time, and never leave the house, but with the unlikeliness of that came the desire to find Gerrald.

He couldn’t stop the vile thoughts from bombarding him; what would he have done if he’d taken her? How far would she have been hidden away?

Nick exhaled, pinching his eyes shut and wrapping her tighter in an embrace.

All this time passed, everything they’d been through to finally make a baby, and then it be ripped from her hands.

By him.

It was all because of him.

He wiggled his face next to hers, shushing her softly when she whined.

I’ll make this right, Callie. I’ll make it right for our baby.

In another life, little one. 🖤 Two chapters left of Bell Peppers; I've already started working on part 2: Milagro

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chungledown-bimothy · 5 years

Text

Trust Me: Chapter 6

I’m so sorry it too so long- for some reason, I just couldn’t get into Virgil’s head for this one. Thank you so much for your patience <3

Chapter 1 Chapter 5 AO3 Chapter 7

Warnings: swearing, mention of death/funerals, brief mention of homophobia (it’s as fluffy as this one’s gonna get, y’all)

Word Count: 2023

Tag List: @ccecode @emo-sanders-sides-loving-unicorn @ren-allen @ilovemygaydad @bloodropsblog @funsizedgremlin @raygelkitty @roxiefox23 @thomasthesandersengine @spookyingarbageisland @band-be-boss-blog

Thursday

Virgil stared at the empty conversation for what felt the millionth time, trying to find the right words. Fuck it. I need to just do this. Like a bandaid. I can do this.

[To:Patton]- Hey Patton, this is Virgil.

[To:Patton]- From your coffee shop the other day.

Fuck, that was bad. Well, there's nothing I can do about it now. He opened the case files he brought home to review, trying to distract himself, but gave up after about 10 minutes and started watching The Office for the fifteenth time. He was three episodes in when his phone went off.

[Patton]- Hi!! I hope this doesn't come across as pushy or anything, but do you wanna go out sometime? I'm really bad at communicating through text, and I think you're really cute

[Virgil<3]- it totally doesn't. Yeah, I'd love to meet up. What are you up to on Saturday?

[Patton]- Going to the de Young with you, hopefully? I have a membership

[Virgil<3]- That would be amazing!! I've been dying to go see the Monet exhibition.

[Patton]- Me too! I'll pick you up at noon on Saturday, then?

[Virgil<3]- Sounds great!

[Patton]- I can't wait! I guess I don't need to ask where you live lol

[Virgil<3]- haha yeah I guess not. I'll see you then :)

Virgil put his phone down and took a deep breath. Holy SHIT am I really doing this?? Patton's so cute, but I'm a mess. But it's Monet at the de Young, and Patton seems so… good. Like, too good for me. God, I'm really good fuck this up, aren't I?

[Patton]- Take a deep breath; it's gonna be great. There's absolutely no need to worry :)

… Holy fuck I'm so gay. Patton had attached a selfie with a huge smile and a thumbs-up.

Saturday

Taking a deep breath, Virgil looked in the mirror and adjusted his tie. He didn't even wear ties to work, but a date to see Monet's works in person deserved better than his everyday work attire, let alone his usual weekend outfit of a t-shirt, an old hoodie with purple plaid patches, and black jeans. He tried not to think about the last time he wore the black tie, but he couldn't shut the train of thought off fast enough.

It's raining. Of course it is. He loved the rain so much; it's only fitting it's raining when we have to say goodbye.

"He'd hate that we're all here being sad, you know. He'd say we were being lame and that he deserves something more fabulous. He'd also be pissed that I'm talking to you, not him, at an event about him, even if it is his funeral. So, Remy, you dramatic, self-absorbed ass, I'm standing in front of all of these people, and I'm gonna talk to just you.

First of all, I'm more sorry than I can say. You told me he would be willing to break his rules, and I didn't trust you. You were always right, and I hated that. If you were here, you'd tell me to shut the fuck up and say that I know I love you. I absolutely and completely love you. And that's why it kills me that I couldn't protect you. You weren't just my partner, you were my best friend, and I failed at the absolute minimum. God, Remy, you deserved so much better. I'm sorry I couldn't be better.

But fuck this melancholy shit. You told me once that you wanted to put the 'fun' in funeral. So, everybody," Virgil continued, addressing the crowd again, "as Remy said so often, 'let's cut the shit and drink'. Scandals downtown is ready and waiting for us to fuck shit up in his memory."

Coming back to the present, Virgil wiped the tear from his cheek and rolled up the sleeves of his purple dress shirt. Patton's gonna be here any minute; I need to finish getting ready.

Before he knew it, there was a knock at the door. He took a deep breath and was glad he did when he opened the door and briefly forgot how to breathe, because standing there on his doorstep was 5 feet and 7 inches of the most beauty Virgil had ever seen in one person. Patton wasn't the most conventionally attractive- whereas society as a whole prized hard lines and defined muscles, Patton was soft lines and the kindest eyes imaginable. Virgil couldn't explain why, but Patton exuded kindness and trustworthiness. He didn't realize he'd been staring until the sound of a throat clearing startled him.

"Oh, um, I was staring, huh?" Virgil asked, embarrassed.

Patton nodded, blushing. "Yeah, but I was too. You look really good."

"Thanks, you do too, but I guess you already knew that I feel that way." In his efforts to avoid eye contact, Virgil noticed the pin on Patton's shirt- simply reading 'they/them'. "Are those your pronouns?"

"Yeah, they are." Patton's posture immediately shifted- standing straighter and narrowing their eyes. "Is that a problem?"

"Not in the slightest." He smiled when Patton visibly relaxed, their megawatt smile returning in full force.

"Wonderful! Now, let's go see some art almost as beautiful as you. I'll drive." Patton winked and started walking. It took Virgil a second to remember how to breathe, let alone move, but he quickly caught up once he did. He stopped short again when he saw their car- a classic black VW Beetle in perfect condition.

"Holy shit, Patton. Your car is gorgeous."

"Oh my goodness thank you! She was my dad's."

"Like I said, it's- she's beautiful. Maintenance must be a nightmare, though. What year is she?"

"1955. Maintenance isn't that bad- my dad taught me how to keep her in shape after I came out in high school. He thought getting my hands dirty would turn me into 'a real man'."

"Shit, I'm sorry, Pat." They shrugged.

"It's no big deal. Joke's on him- I'm still queer as hell, but now I can keep this beauty in good shape. Get in! She's old, but she won't bite!" Laughing, Virgil got in the car, and they left for the museum.

"Monet was a founder of Impressionism as a counterpoint to Realism, which had been popular for about ten years before Impressionism started developing and twenty-four years before the term Impressionism was first used.

Realism grew in popularity with the rise of photography; artists wanted their works to look objectively real, and strove to remove emotion. They largely focused on the working class and depicted life as it was, without any sentimentality or heroism.

Monet never really bought into that. His early works works, though chronologically in the Realism era, were always painted with intense emotion, and he rarely painted people. He began playing with the concept that what we understand of reality is just our perception, and he was far from alone in those thoughts. Marx held that belief as well, going further and saying that all we have in our minds are ideologies, not facts or truths, and they act as filters, shaping everything we experience.

Rousseau died two centuries before the rise of Impressionism, but he summed up the philosophy well when he said 'I feel before I think'. Monet's paintings, while indistinct and 'messy' up close, evoke strong emotion only when one looks at the piece as a whole. We feel it before we get close enough to see and think about what it's really made of." Strictly speaking, Virgil didn't need to be speaking softly into Patton's ear with his hand on their waist, standing so closely behind them that he could feel the movement of their chest with each breath. Neither of them, however, would ever dream of complaining.

Patton reluctantly stepped out of Virgil's embrace and turned to look at him in awe. "That's incredible, Virgil. How do you know all that?"

"Oh, um, thanks. I really like art philosophy, and Monet is my favorite artist. I dunno, something about making order out of chaos is really calming."

"I feel the same way! Life is sorta like a puzzle, or Monet's brush strokes. Each one, taken individually, doesn't make much sense. We all feel and experience things like that, things that are confusing or sometimes even scary. But as we keep going, we find more and more pieces, and things make more and more sense. Feeling like a half-missing puzzle set is okay, as long as we remember the big picture. If any of that makes sense." Patton chuckled nervously, scratching behind his ear.

"No, it made perfect sense. What would you say the big picture is?"

"Well, I'd say it's doing as much good as possible. Whether it's big things, like being a doctor, firefighter, or teacher, like my brother, or small things, like putting a smile on someone's face with a pun or a good cup of coffee. It's our duty as people to make the world around us a better place, however we can."

"That's a really beautiful way of looking at things, Patton." Virgil gave them a small smile. He started to say more, but he was interrupted by the growling of his stomach. "Oh, shit. I was so nervous this morning, I forgot to eat. Wanna go to the cafe and get lunch? My treat, since you still haven't let me pay you back for the coffee."

"I told you, it was a gift! And don't think for a second that I didn't notice that you tipped almost triple what you would have paid if I had charged you." Their smirk was only slightly lessened by the fact that they had to tilt their head back slightly to make eye contact.

"You got me there, but I'm still buying. No, stop that- no amount of puppy dog eyes can change my mind."

"Well, you can't blame a guy for trying." Patton shrugged. "Alright, let's go get some food. You're already almost alarmingly skinny- if we don't get some food in you, you might disappear altogether." Patton started walking backwards towards the cafe, not breaking eye contact.

"Hey! I'm a perfectly normal weight for my height." Virgil started walking too, shaking his head.

"Which is what, 6'3? You need to eat more than the average person, not less. Skipping meals isn't good for you, kiddo."

"I know that. You're just really cute, and I got nervous," he admitted, blushing.

"Flattery will get you everywhere. Now come on, let's eat." They winked before turning around and skipping away. Virgil followed, completely smitten.

------------------------------

"Mr. Dean, a minute?" Logan called after his least favorite student. It was almost 7 pm- students on campus at this hour outside of football season was unheard of, and the last game of the season was weeks ago.

"Greetings and salutations, Mr. Reed. It's JD, though. Mr. Dean is my father." He sauntered to Logan, disdain clear on his face. Logan couldn't be sure if it was towards himself, Mr. Dean, or both.

"Yes, erm, JD, what are you doing on campus so late? Your attendance record in my class alone indicates a disinclination towards being here during school hours, let alone so late."

"That's just the thing, Mr. Reed. No one wants me to be here now."

"Ah, I see. A contrarian. It's not safe to be out here alone, however. The sun set hours ago, and there's a killer on the loose, if the news is to be believed. Come with me, I'll drive you home."

"Thanks, sir, but I'm fine. I'm a fighter, you see. Let the bastard come after me- it'll be the last mistake he ever makes."

"Save the bravado for your peers. I will not take no for an answer- if anything happened to you, it would be on my conscience. My car is in the parking lot. Go." Logan commanded.

"If you insist." He gave a mocking bow before turning away from Logan and walking to the car. If he turned back around, he would have seen a cold, malicious smile spread across his teacher's face. He didn't turn around.

#sanders sides #moxiety #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #sanders sides fanfic #sanders sides fan fiction #sanders sides fanfiction #my writing #trust me

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gatoinq · 6 years

Photo

it never occurred to me to write about my ii experience on tumblr, but i figured it could be helpful for those who would appreciate a lil story time like this.

essentially, to make a very long story short, i ended up getting my vip tickets at 2am the morning of my show. i had a fantastic time meeting them and an even better time watching the show! a more in-depth story under the cut, per usual.

needless to say, i was equal parts excited and terrified of what was to come. i hate last minute planning more than anything else so i really had no idea what to say, what to have them sign, what pose i wanted to do with them, etc. (yes, i’ve been a fan since 2013 and have had numerous scenarios of me meeting d&p playing in my head throughout those years but the second that that somehow become a reality ALL expectations and year-long plans flew out of my head instantly).

so to start off, i had to plan what exactly i wanted dan and phil to sign. at first, i wanted to draw something from scratch to have them sign so that it would be that little more special, but i simply couldn’t muster much of anything with the limited time and my shaken nerves, so i settled with printing out two copies of my fanart of dan and phil singing the ii song. in the end, i figured that this piece was a lot more meaningful to have signed instead of a random fanart that i made at the last minute, and i was completely right to do so.

fast forward a couple hours, and i’m trying to get into the vip line for ii. i made a rather lengthy thread on twitter about this experience if you’re interested but again, to keep a long story short, it was quite a hassle for me! but in the end, i manage to get in.

the meet and greet starts. i’m trying to play it cool because the people i’m with start to completely freak out once dan and phil round the corner to say hi to the vips and all of a sudden the reality just runs us over like a train! what was once a distant “oh yeah we’ll get to that bridge when we cross it” became “OH MY GOD WE’RE AT THE BRIDGE WE’RE CROSSING THE BRIDGE NOW AND THE BRIDGE IS ON FIRE” for me, my big moment was realizing that, finally, after over 5 years of watching these two weird guys on the internet i was actually going to get to meet and hug them and that realization was absolutely WILD.

so, i’m at the front of the line. my sister is in tears and shaking because of how nervous she is to meet them. marianne, being an absolute sweetie, tries to comfort my sister by telling her that dan and phil will be happy to see her and that she shouldn’t be afraid of them. in a way, i kind of needed to hear those words too, so i use that opportunity to go meet them before my sister does so that she can gather herself in the mean time. marianne takes my gift to them (the other copy of the fanart i made) and i go for it.

first thing i see is phil, and wowow holy shit people are 100% not lying when they say he is 569845x more handsome in person. even worse, you can see practically every freckle he has and his eyes are so vibrant!!!! in a way, i would describe it as being used to seeing a pixel art of a character to all of a sudden seeing an 8K render of said character. i knew what i was in for so i immediately dive into phil’s hug before i stare for too long, and i’ll say for sure that the information overload of not only seeing phil in person but also getting to feel how he hugs you made my brain short circuit and i blacked out in phil’s arms for 0.01 seconds so i don’t fully remember exactly how his hug felt like. (UNFORTUNATELY!!!! AHHH) also at this point the first thing i say to them is “oh my gooood y’all are so beautiful!!” whilst squealing incoherently. i don’t know if they said anything in response to that because, again, information overload!!!

next i hug dan, and that goes perfectly fine. he greets me with a big smile and that’s about as much as i can remember of how he looked like. from this point on i’m too scared to look at them in the face so i settle for looking at myself through my selfie camera that i already had prepared or through the middle distance of them lmao.

i’ll say that for the m&g, dan 100% took charge and was the person who responded to me. i give them my art to sign and they both ooh and ahh enthusiastically while signing. dan in particular goes high pitched with his praise and said “this is so good!!”. i explain to them that i’m an animation student and that they are one of my biggest inspirations in art. dan looks up at me and thanks me. once they’re done signing, dan hands back my art to me and compliments my outfit, “i noticed that you’re matching the show’s theme, i appreciate that” and i tell him something along the lines of “yes of course i had to i’m an artist” but like. i think i flubbed my words and it came out mumbly so idk if he heard me try to be funny dnfvjscs

next, i hand my phone to dan and he and phil immediately go into their standardized meet and greet pose. i had to quickly interject because I PLANNED OUT THIS POSE RIGHT WHEN I GOT THOSE TICKETS and i told them “hey so i have an idea for a pose. basically y’all take a cute selfie and i’m in the bg looking pissed”. i swear i didn’t even get the chance to finish my request because both dan and phil seemed to telepathically know what i wanted and they go into the pose no questions asked and i had to scramble to catch up with their efficiency. we take the picture and dan says something along the lines of “okay now lets take a cute selfie”. we do the normal pose and i’m beaming like a mfer because phil’s holding me and his chin is on my shoulder???? what the heck i stan one man who didn’t talk to me at all during the m&g kdfjcnkjdsncjkdsc (obvs no complaints phil owns my entire heart and soul)

of course, now because i’m a little delirious from phil holding me and dan’s kindness i say “thank you so much” and try to leave so that i can actually breathe but before i go dan stops me (like. he legit looks at me straight in the eyes right as i’m about to walk away and i FREEZE in my spot) and says “keep it up with your art career” and me. kind of extremely shocked that he would be so pointed with his encouragement towards me goes “okay thank you!!” and fucking BOOKS IT.

the only thing after that is, of course, ii. i won’t go into too much detail about the show but i’m so so so so glad san diego got one of the special versions of ii with the phil bucks and phantastic phacts included. by far the best part of the show was the getting real segment though, as phil lester himself walked to the edge of stage RIGHT WHERE I JUST HAPPENED TO BE SITTING IN FRONT ROW and sits there for a good 5 minutes. needless to say i took this time to freely stare at phil so close to me and i truly felt blessed for the allotted amount of time. i love phil a lot.

(the next day, my sister drops the bomb on me that during her m&g she pointed me out to dan and phil and they gushed about me to her saying things like “aww yes you two are matching her art is so good she should keep it up!” just aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa)

so yes, ii was absolutely one of the best experiences of my life and i could not be prouder of dan and phil for being able to pull off a second world tour that is, in my opinion, so much better than their first. i adore them so much. heck.

#dan and phil #daniel howell #amazingphil #interactive introverts #iistory #i think that's the blog idk???#anyways.

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pioneeroverc-my-5000th-sideblog · 3 years

Text

Plan from August:

finish DAB Lesson 5 (multiple pages per day if possible so I don’t lose momentum) ✗ didn't do any of this

study whatever the next step in the Radiorunner curriculum is ✓ lots of 30min figure drawing sessions, read Hampton's book on figure drawing, still need to carry on learning about the spine and ribcage from Proko

do 30min figure drawing/other studies at least 15/30 days ✓ most days

finish that damn comic ✓ FINALLY

sketch out/thumbnail every prompt fill for October prompt lists ✗ because I can't concentrate on anything

ACTIONABLES: CLEAN UP LINEART✓, reference/learn about neck-body connection & shoulders✗, mannequinise figures(kinda), take own clothing reference photos for exact pose instead of trying to abstract existing images (not skilled enough to do this yet)(sometimes), draw hands✗, study leather texture in particular (since it’s a common material)✗, start drawing in greyscale again(kinda)

Overview of September:

did a fair amount of figure drawing trying to use gestural lines more often as a framework, decided that my time is probably best spent carrying on doing construction for longer poses (since it's the main reason my sketches take so long). Getting better at seeing ribcage/pelvis angles and imagining them inside figures. Learned about opposing tilts (usually) that balance the body out. Still having problems just drawing outlines agh

that's... kinda it? I've been really scared of drawing anything more complicated because my brain now associates planned-out sketching with pain (because I struggle so much to get things to sit right in perspective/have believable anatomy/draw background objects).

October plan:

finish all 20 pieces I need to do for various promptlists. work on art every day for at least 3h. all non-sketch pieces need to be at least 70% good before they're finished

30min figure drawing at least 15/30 days

--study on hold this month--

notes and improvements from finished stuff:

comic: holy shit my faces look atrocious, composition isn't great (esp. a lot of tangents), values are a bit confusing, those knives in the second panel are SO BAD, could be more energy in the last panel, backgrounds kinda ok but also kinda halfassed

orochimaru: perspective on eyes is fucked (the eyeballs look flat), think I tilted the head down too much as a copout of drawing an actual cool angle, painting is super messy (though that isn't that much of an issue, this was a paintover of something I did in June and there was a LOT of stuff I had to change), I didn't actually think about the lighting when I was doing the paintover and I feel like there are some incorrect areas (not sure the cheek or undereye area on the right should be receiving that much light), didn't reference anything so pretty sure the chin is also a tilted-down copout

ACTIONABLES: revisit all head construction videos from July, fix tangents when I see them, redo background objects if they look bad, use references when drawing ALL HEADS (even ones at normal angles)

#end of month

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get-something-to-write · 7 years

Text

Prompt from bullet anon(?): “ Prompt 152 for your favorite Hamilton ship? ”- “ Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night. “

( what a relatable prompt )

A/N: I wouldn’t say this is my absolute favorite ( that title belongs to Marliza! ), but is my guilty pleasure ship. Heh.( BWAHAHA I IS A REBEL ) Maria’s texting name is Angelica’s contact name for Maria and vice versa, to show how much those suckers are in love.

Maria: 19, freelance artist who quit college, basically what you’d expect a full time artist to do on Tumblr

Angelica: 22, majoring in PoliSci and Journalism, interns under George Washington

3rd POV omniscient

Warnings: nothing, at least this time, except for poor editing ( I'm too cheap for a beta :P)

Ping! Ping!

Angelica stared at her phone, watching text notifications blink across her screen in a rapid succession. She was waiting for a makeup tutorial on YouTube to load already, so she tapped on the notifications to see what Maria Lewis was sending her.

Maria <3: so ive been working on some art commissions

Maria <3: and this weird thing came to me

Maria <3: if mammals have hair and create milk

Maria <3: therefore

Maria <3: that means that the coconut in my kitchen

Maria <3: is a mammal

Maria <3: u get it right?

Even without any presence nearby to react to such a thing, Angelica let out an exasperated sigh and glared at her dimly-lit screen. Of course Maria was sending her weird shit at 1 am in the morning, because what sane person would? Although, she was heads-over-heels for the artistic girl, so she only half-joked about being irritated by the texting.

Angel the Angelic: y the heck r u sending me this

Angel the Angelic: also that’s not how it works

Angel the Angelic: besides, its super l8

Angel the Angelic: get to sleep so u can wake up 4 ur job

Maria <3: nah I don't have work today

Angel the Angelic: ugh can’t ur commissions wait 4 morning

Maria <3: it is an unspoken rule to never interrupt a writer or artist at work ;)

Angel the Angelic: k fine, but I'm sleeping now

Maria <3: gn then, or good morning actually

Angel the Angelic: please go to sleep

Angelica Schuyler barged into the living room of Maria Lewis’s apartment, with the latter wearing only underwear and an oversized hoodie. It hardly affected the taller woman much, since she was commonly seen in her apartment. After all, Angelica did have the spare keys.

However usual it was to have her in Maria’s place, Maria herself was becoming redder by the second as she was being caught wearing, well, not much. By her undying crush, Angelica Schuyler.

“ Stop texting me weird stuff so late at night, “ she said, plopping down on the couch after a day of working at her journalism/political science internship.

“ Eh, benefits of being a decent artist and not having to go through college. “

“ I don’t really get how you don’t stress out about not having a major. Lucky you, I suppose. “

“ College isn’t for everyone Angelica. “ Maria brought out some chai tea and granola bars that the older woman apparently was addicted to. Angelica studied Maria, making a show of flashing her eyes up and down. Feeling very numb inside from running around doing errands for the higher-ups all day, she spaced out and glared at the ceiling, attempting to count the amount of times the fan was spinning to distract herself from the fatigue and Maria’s body leaning on her side.

“ Hello? Ang? You want a bar or not? I’m gonna eat it if you don't want one...” Maria chuckled. Registering her words, she became a little crimson at the cute nickname and her teasing voice.

“ Oh no, you wouldn’t dare do that.”

“ Oh yes I would, just to spite you.” Growling, Angelica pounced on Maria, struggling to steal the beloved granola bar from her hand. She snickered, throwing the snack across the living room. During the process, Lewis had been pinned to the couch and was blushing furiously, although Angelica mistakened it for raucous laughter.

The normally serious woman sitting on Maria’s knees had crossed her arms, looking perpetually annoyed.

“ Ugh, now I have to get it. Thanks a lot Maria Lewis. “

“ You are very welcome my lady. “

Huffing, Angelica awkwardly scrambled off the younger girl to snatch the granola bar. She gazed at Maria’s face, which was red as a tomato. It was easy for her to read most people, but she was always confused by Maria

Maria was a fairly good actress, able to mask her emotions if needed, but never did around Angelica. Perhaps there was a chance that they mutually loved each other after all.

“ Well, while you enjoy your snack, I'll go back to working on my stuff. And tell me when you leave, ‘kay?” Angelica merely nodded, chewing through the granola bar while flipping through all the assignments from class. There was also a minor article from her internship, but it wasn't much. She contemplated staying over at Maria’s, since she was feeling too lazy to go to her shared apartment with her siblings.

After finishing her bar ( and went to the kitchen for more ), she was curious about what Maria was creating this time around. Angelica always loved looking at people's hard work, especially Maria’s. She was always quite amazed by the younger girl’s art.

“ Hey Maria! Uh, may I see what you are doing?” Angelica hollered, somewhat politely.

“ Actually, I'm just putting on some pants. Kind of indecent to not be wearing some when there's someone in your home, ya know?” Huh, that's pretty strange. She's been acting weirder and weirder, why would she refer to me as a stranger in the apartment?

“ Well, I would like to see what you’re drawing or painting or whatever. “

“ Eh, I’m the lineart pieces right now. And, you can come in now.”

Angelica stepped inside the only bedroom in the apartment, smiling to herself as she viewed the minimalist room, with the exception of the art desk that contained an organized clutter of cabinets labeled with the specific kinds of supplies. There were two watercolors drying on the wall, and the desk itself contained some sketched papers and few of what Maria was currently working on.

The drawing tablet and laptop were sitting on her bed because of the little space on her work area. Angelica wanted to aid her artistic friend more, maybe upgrade the apartment or endorse her art so she could have better luxuries. Angelica knew better than to ask so; Maria Lewis was a proud girl and was used to striking it out on her own.

She placed her arms gently on Maria’s shoulders, loosely hugging her neck as Angelica perched her chin on her head. Her hair was oh-so-soft. She twirled a strand with her fingers, absentmindedly playing the curly hair as she peered at Maria’s hand sketching out a majestic griffin.

Angelica sniffed her hair, taking in the intoxicating scent. She didn't notice how Maria had stopped drawing and stared deeply into the paper.

“ Hey Angelica? You're kinda distracting me a little, uh, are you sniffing my hair?” No response, solely because Angelica had leaned her body weight against Maria and was slowly drifting out of consciousness.

Angelica mumbled something, most likely about the younger girl to continue drawing, but Maria was having none of that. If the Angelica Schuyler was tired from staying up real late and doing her college stuff, she would push her into the closest bed. Okay maybe that sounded weird.

The Schuyler observed Maria as the artist sighed, swept her papers and pencils aside and considerately made sure Angelica didn’t stumble onto the floor as Lewis stood up from her swivel chair. Maria gently dragged her over to her mess of blankets and pillows.

“ Honestly, you should take a nap. Or stay over for the night, you can't go anywhere if you’re gonna fall asleep standing up. Actually, whether you like it or not you’re sleeping over for the night. I’ll text your sisters. You’re probably asleep by now, I should stop rambling to myself.” Angelica was truly unconscious by now, surely. Maria half-ran to her living room to snag her phone.

During that time, Angelica had internally realized where her body was laying and the simple smell of someone she recognized and loved dearly. She snapped her eyes open, mildly confused that she wasn't gazing over Maria’s shoulders.

She was actually relaxing in bed, Maria’s bed for the matter. A thin blanket covering most of her body. Its scent consisted of lavender and ink, an odd combination but nonetheless pleasing to Angelica’s nose.

Angelica squawked a little as Maria strolled back into the room and they stared each other awkwardly as she inched towards Angelica. The silence was practically sexual tension to any outsider had there been one there.

“ Would you want to sleep with me?” Angelica blurted out before cringing to herself. Way to creep out one of your best friends, Angelica.

The other looked just as surprised. Maria looked down at the floor as she slowly slipped into bed. In another impulsive movement, Angelica grabbed her arm and swiftly pulled her down, instinctively shifting around so Maria was comfortably settled on her side while facing her.

Both of them were glowing crimson, mere inches apart. Angelica was quite perplexed as to why she was feeling so ruffled by this. It wasn’t as if they had never made contact before. But those has been innocent hugs and cuddles during group sleepovers, perhaps watching sappy or horror movies.

Maria flipped over, desperate to not stare into those curious brown eyes. Her thoughts glazed over how it was impossible that the wonderful and confident Angelica Schuyler could possibly love her back. She nearly dismissed this situation as a thing that Angelica did when she was fatigued when a pair of arms warmly hugged her sides.

Holy shit is she actually cuddling me in my bed? What the hell is happening? Maria’’s face grew even redder, and had not gone unnoticed by Angelica who had very keen senses. Angelica used one hand to turn Maria’s head over.

“ Goodnight, and I love you too.” Coming to a decision that Maria indeed liked her back, based on her reactions, prompted Angelica to duck her head under Maria’s chin and lightly kissed her neck, her tongue poking through her teeth.

She smiled at Maria’s shock and sudden gasp before cuddling her even tighter, limbs wrapping Maria like a pillow. Angelica felt the tension on her fall before Maria calmed down, even pressing herself against Angelica a bit. Eventually, they peacefully slept fro the rest of the day and night.

For once, neither of them regretted staying up past one.

Hey there! This, as usual, got out of hand and I did not expect myself tone writing so much for this one. Hope you enjoyed this, leave a note or two, and send me requests! Rules on are on my bio.

( you can find my fanfics under the crimson-writer tag )

#margelica #maria x angelica #maria lewis #angelica schuyler #hamilton #modern!hamilton #hamilton the musical #hamilton fanfic #hamilton ships #the schuyler sisters #fluff fanfics #wlw fanfic #crimson-writer

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