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alch3mic · 3 years

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Beast or Prince's darling discovering their yandere tendencies? I'd love to see some drama go down

Strange how the twisting shadows of night made the estate halls feel so.. unfamiliar.

Those once pristine and well decorated walls that lured you into the estate so long ago now looked tainted by the darkness scrawled upon their surface, while the tile flooring felt even colder beneath your bare feet as you traversed the dim halls with nothing but a cellphone flashlight and the rain to keep you company.

Thunder and lightning crackled outside distantly, enlightening the hallways briefly in brilliant white flashes before plunging them back into the depths of obscurity. It, along with the deafening sounds of rain pattering against the windows, was enough to make your heart nearly pound right out of your poor chest.

.....

Was this some kind of classic horror movie set up or what?

Sheesh!

Talk about cliché! The only thing that was missing from this scene was some kind of terrible scary monster or knife wielding psycho lurking around the corner, and then you’d be the star of the next box office thriller!

At least the thought was funny enough to make you chuckle before another flash of lightning and crackling of thunder made you nearly jump out of your own skin.

...

.....Maybe.. you should’ve stayed in bed..

The thought of turning your butt right back around and just returning to your room was rather tempting.. but..

You had three burning questions in your mind that you just knew would keep you up all night if you turned back now.

Number one, what was that loud crashing sound that had woken you out of your dreams? You’re at least very certain it wasn’t thunder because the storm only started a few minutes after you left your bed.

Number two, why was the power out? Never, in all of your time of staying here, had the lights ever gone out like this. Papyrus once told you they ran on their own line out here on the estate with their own generators, separate from the city grid just so they could keep things on in case of a city wide power outage. So.. why? Why was the power out, even before this crazy storm even started? What happened?

And lastly.. number three..

....Where was Sans?

He had bunked with you in your room today after a late night of playing some video games together, but when you suddenly awoke he was... gone.

That had concerned you, because he wasn’t there when the crashing sound happened, which meant he left sometime before the storm started. It wasn't until you found his phone still placed upon your nightstand that your worries grew. He always kept his phone on him..

Now straddled with anxiety you gathered yourself before heading out in search of your boyfriend.

Just where in the world did he go?

.....

You checked your cell phone again.

...Still no service.

Dammit.

Great.. juuuust great.

...Maybe Sans' would..?

Nope.

That was a bust too.

You let out a huff of annoyance, even trying to wave his phone above your head in the hopes of getting a single bar of service, but it was to no avail.

There was another moment where you looked back to the hall you had just been wandering through, wondering if you really should just head back.. but..

It was foreign now.

You in all honesty had no idea where you were.

Like, you weren't even sure if you were in the west wing anymore, the once bright halls becoming like an endless labyrinth or darkness and spooky noises.

....

..Well, looks like your only choice now was to press on in hopes you’d find one of the brothers. The estate really was big, but they had to be somewhere..!

...Right..?

.........Right.

So onward you walked.

......

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Even the soft steps of your bare feet made eerie echoes that resounded with the quiet hum or rain.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

Another flash of lightning and crackle of thunder, another small scare.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

A left..? Or maybe a right? Well that flower pot looked familiar at least. ...Maybe..? K-kind of?

.....

Alright maybe you were a little scared now.

How could you not be!?

Everything felt tense and haunting, your anxiety spiraling the more you wandered around in the dark! Maybe this was just a dream.. a weirdly realistic dream.. and you’d wake up to find yourself still nicely snuggled in bed with your bone friend all safe and soun-

Wait.

.....That was..

Oh! You recognized those doors! They led out to the garden!

That sinking feeling in your chest was replaced with a sense of hope as you finally gained a sense of your surroundings, taking a few hopeful steps forward.

BANG.

You nearly screamed as the double doors out to the garden swung open accompanied by a flash of lightning. Thankfully the light faded just in time for you to see..

"Sans!" you called out as your skeletal boyfriend stepped inside and shut the doors behind him.

You quickly approached, stopping just a few feet away.

"You're...!" you inhaled sharply, gazing upon him. "...Soaking wet!"

And also dressed.

No longer was he adorned in one of his cute sets of pajamas, but a clean white button up, dark pants, heavy boots and thick work gloves, all now sticking to his bones from being soaked by the rain.

A deep sigh came out from your boyfriend and he shook his head, drops of water twinkling as they caught the light before splattering to the floor, while other droplets were just encouraged to finish their run down his face.

"HEH. IT'S REALLY IS RAINING SOMETHING FIERCE," he muttered lightly. "I'M THANKFUL TO SEE THAT DAMNED SKY TUCKED AWAY SINCE IT'S BEEN SO SUNNY THESE PAST FEW WEEKS BUT.. WHAT TERRIBLE TIMING."

You closed the distance between you two, stopping once more right before him and looked up and down in worry.

"Are you-" you began, but he merely reached out to gently catch your chin in his gloved hand.

It felt wet and cold, sending shivers down your spine.

"I'M ALRIGHT DEAREST," Sans chuckled, his eyelights roaming over your face.

"..Really?"

The ever so familiar hearts in his eyelights seemed to grow a bit bigger as he looked at you, his hand leaving your chin to carefully brush a few strands of hair.

"REALLY," he confirmed.

You found yourself shivering once more as his cold gloved fingers lightly lingered on your cheek before he fully retracted his hand and began pulling his gloves off.

"AND WHAT ABOUT YOU MY DEAR? ARE YOU ALRIGHT? IT'S QUITE DANGEROUS TO BE WANDERING AROUND SO LATE ESPECIALLY IN THE DARK."

"..I'm fine," you said, your hand reaching inside your pocket to pull out his phone. "I just.. woke up to a crashing noise and you weren't there. Then I saw your phone and it started raining like crazy and the lights wouldn't turn on so I got.."

You flushed a bit when he smiled at your ramblings.

"..Worried."

"HEH. THOUGHT I DO APPRECIATE YOUR CONCERNS MY SWEET, YOU SHOULD NEVER WORRY ABOUT ME," he chuckled, taking his phone. "I'M HERE TO PROTECT YOU, ALWAYS."

He didn't even give the device a look over before stashing it into his wet pocket, shoving his gloves into another one and began rolling up his sleeves and loosening his collar.

A strange silence fell for a moment as you both stood there, a small flame being ignited in your chest as you watched him move.

"..Sans?"

"YES, DEAREST?"

"Is everything really okay?" you asked quietly, your hand scrunching up the fabric at the end of your pajama t-shirt.

"OF COURSE!" he said, giving you one heck of a cute smile. "...WELL, I MEAN.. THE POWER IS STILL OUT AND I AM SOAKED TO THE BONE, BUT YES EVERYTHING IS FINE MY LOVE."

....

"...You're lying to me, aren't you..?"

....

Sans didn't say another word, instead just keeping that impossibly sweet smile swept over his features as he stopped unbuttoning his collar and looked at you for a moment.

His silence was calculated, just like his expression and his movements. For he knew that if he spoke anything more, you'd catch on more to the underlying anger in his tone.

It was the exact kind of anger that always stuck around after something happened.

You've.. gotten better at hearing it over the months that you've become closer to him.

At picking up the emotions he hid behind that princely charm and smiles.

It's how you could tell that things were absolutely not alright.

That he was lying to you.

...Again.

Once again you were being kept in the dark about something.

Once again Sans was covering your eyes from seeing clearly.

Why..?

Even though the two of you had grown so close. Even though you've swore to him to the moon and back that he could trust you. Even though you promised..!

Why does he still..!?

.....

He offered his hand to you, catching your eye before you looking back up at him. That smile of his turned just a bit fonder, and he merely tilted his head in a quiet encouragement for you to take his offer.

Stand your ground.

Don't let him do this!

Not again!

....

Quietly you took his hand, the feeling of his bones damp and clammy against your warmed skin from having your fists clenched so tightly before.

He bent in, and placed a tender kiss upon your check, making you shiver from the cold water that trickled on to your neck and shoulder.

Then he pulled back out, giving you one more loving smile before taking a step, and then another..

And you did the same, following as he led you away from those double doors out to the garden and back into the blackened halls from whence you came.

His boots squeaked against the marbled floorings and loose raindrops continued to descend down his skull, followed by the soft patter of your feet as he led you without another word.

...Again.

Again you were.. too afraid to say anything. The words came bubbling up your throat, threatening to break free at any moment.

But you kept your mouth shut tight.

You were afraid....

Of what the truth might be.

Of this fairytale that you so desperately sought and now finally had.. falling to pieces.

Of who your Prince Charming might really be.

Was he really the soft, sweet and lonely skeleton you saw beyond all of the make believe? Or was he..?

.....

Another distant flash and strike of thunder, and once again the halls were enlightened.

Your gaze dipped only for a second from Sans' back, enough to catch a bare glimpse of something before it became dark once more.

....

That..

Couldn't have been right..

..Right?

Something like that... shouldn't be...

.....

..No..

Your eyes were certainly not deceiving you.

You know what you saw.. without question, even in the passing light.

For at the very edges of Prince's dampened white shirt.

...Was red.

"DEAREST."

"Y-yes?"

"JUST REMEMBER, I LOVE YOU VERY, VERY MUCH... AND THAT EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT."

check out my other writings | feel free to drop me a ko-fi!

#you should've known better #to leave your room so late at night #but sometimes your curiosity and concern get the better of you #it'll be alright #prince!sans #sans #undertale #underswap #underswap sans #us sans #sans x reader #reader insert #undertale au #drabble #yandere #yandere sans #wickedtale #alch!writes #anon

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pagingdoctorbedlam · 2 years

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Stay (What I Meant To Say) ch.1

Pairing: Rob Lucci x Kaku x Doc Bedlam (OC)

Genre: Modern AU, Meet Cutes and Fake Dating meet Spywork and Cult Escapees. Expect varying levels of fluff, drama, and hurt/comfort.

Chapter Length: approx. 2k words

Chapter Description: Kaku expects another tedious day at his undercover job...but then his unusual new driving student shows up with a connection to his current case. Time to keep cool, gather info on the down-low...and remember the turn signals.

(New fic new fic, yay! This is my first time writing in this genre, so I hope you all enjoy it!)

As far as undercover gigs go, this one isn't so bad. At the very least, working as a driving instructor gives Kaku an excuse to observe all over town at odd hours of the day without raising any suspicions, even if he occasionally has to remind his students to press the correct pedal or to please remember the turn signals. And when his shift is done, he's got plenty of time at night to follow up any leads he'd uncovered during the day, and other than a few rumors about a "small town Batman" roaming about (he'd beat up a criminal one time, c'mon now), no one's really noticed.

Still, Kaku muses to himself as he waits in the parking lot for his newest student, he and Lucci haven't made much progress on their current case. After their last mission went sour and their old boss nearly fired them, they're on thin ice to keep their jobs. And for a government spy (and occasional assassin), there aren't many options for retirement other than the grave. Kaku sure as hell doesn't plan on dying before he's even reached his thirties.

He leans back and takes a deep breath of the chill air. Autumn crept in quick this year, and this tiny town is far colder than the last city he'd been stationed in. Five years of sunny weather only rarely punctuated by storms had eroded his resistance to the cold, and only his pride keeps him from turning on the car early and cranking up the heater. At least the falling leaves are a welcome sight, one he'd missed before coming here.

The local bus stops nearby, and out stumbles a stranger with long hair and tall boots both the same bright red as the falling maple leaves. They amble into the parking lot, glancing between the sparse amount of cars and their phone through thick cats-eye glasses. Kaku watches the stranger a moment; there's a contrast in how they move, a proud posture with head held high but an unsteady gait and eyes that dart about like fish in a recently disturbed pond. The combination makes Kaku curious, and the longer they stick around the lot, the more sure he is that this is his new driving student.

He rolls down the window and leans out, Autumn air brisk against his face. Their eyes meet. He waves. The stranger smiles and jogs over, practically tripping over their own feet in the process.

Kaku says, "Hey there! Bedlam, right? I'm Kaku, your driving instructor today. Pleased as punch to meet you."

"Pleasure's mine. Sorry I'm late, the bus...well, I'd say it was late, but that tends to be the norm. Which is why I'm here and all." Their dark eyes flicker across the car, a hint of nerves settling between the brow.

Kaku slides out of the driver's seat and gestures. When Bedlam doesn't immediately move, he asks, "So, how about we start with your current experience with cars? Ever tried to drive one before? No shame in saying no, I know this town is pretty easy to walk or bus across."

"Mmhmm. I've...never gotten around to driving. Don't know the first thing about cars. But I figured, hey, best to pay a professional who won't judge me and who I won't see every day at work or anything, right?" Bedlam shuffles at this, gaze downcast. Kaku's trying to gauge their age, definitely older than a teenager and maybe a little older than him. A little odd, but again, this is a small town that's easy to traverse. And part of why he took this job was to talk with locals casually and gather information, so he won't complain in the slightest.

"I try not to judge for free, but I appreciate the reasoning. We'll take as much time as you need until you know this car inside and out. Want me to go over all the parts you'll need to know?"

"Yeah. Think I'd like that. Thanks." Bedlam's grin is a lopsided thing, and they move like a newborn fawn as they settle into the car. But they laugh it off as they sit down and settle their hands on the steering wheel, afternoon light catching on the collection of old gilded rings decorating their fingers. They cannot hide a low exhale.

Kaku says in an attempt to ease the tension, "Don't worry, the steering wheel won't bite you. I'd keep my fingers away from the tape deck, though. Always tears through my Sinatra tunes."

That gets Bedlam to laugh, a hint of tension to slip from their shoulders. "And where have you been the past few decades? We've got CDs now. Phones, even."

"And yet, vinyl's back in style, and now I'm the cool cat with my record player."

"Well, if I need to learn how to swing instead of drive, I guess I know who to call. Now, what are all these needles and numbers for...?"

Kaku doesn't realize that he's got a smile stuck to his face—a natural one, the kind that stems from easy humor and someone able to keep pace with his quips—until an hour's passed and his student's finally inching the car around the parking lot. Bedlam taps the gas a little too hard at first and nearly gives them both whiplash, and their eyes briefly widen, an innate "sorry" almost spilling out but bit back last second.

As a spy, curiosity is part of the job. But it's not the place of a driving instructor, especially not on the first lesson with a student simultaneously so bright and nervous, so Kaku just shrugs and says, "Every car's going to be a little different, so you'll have to be careful when you first drive a new car. Some have stiff pedals. Others are spongy. Again, you'll get used to gauging it."

"You'd almost think they were living things, if they're so different and finicky." They try again, and the Camry moves far smoother this time. The sun slips along the sky and rests atop a nearby rooftop as the duo navigates across the lot. To their credit, Bedlam only slips into reverse on accident once, and they narrowly avoid hitting a light pole when parking. Kaku does his best to encourage, even if Bedlam deflects with a tell-timed joke half the time.

The shadows have grown long by the time either of them checks the clock. "Oh shit, next bus isn't for another forty minutes," Bedlam grumbles. "Good thing I brought a book."

"I could give you a ride," Kaku says without thinking. "Show you a bit more about how the car and traffic laws work. How's that sound?"

Way too forward, Kaku thinks as soon as his brain catches up with his mouth. Like he's trying to score a date, which he's definitely not, he's not even looking or interested but Bedlam has no way of knowing that...

"If you're sure it's not too much trouble," Bedlam says with an apologetic wince. "I'm heading to the other end of town. Not that this place is huge, I know, but..."

"It's no skin off my nose, long as you steer me in the right direction. I only moved here a few months ago." The car eases out of the parking lot and onto the road, stopping at a red light while pedestrians cross. Even though Kaku hasn't lived here long, many of the faces are already familiar. It's the sort of place where everyone knows each other. "What about you? You a local?"

"Nah. I'm from Birka."

Kaku briefly misses that the light has turned green.

"Ah, so you know it. Then again, who doesn't nowadays? Let me guess, true crime fan?" Bedlam watches Kaku with cool dark eyes, almost black, until he nods in answer. "Mmmhmm. Well?"

"Well what?"

"Go on and ask. Everyone does. Bit of an open town secret, at this point. Things don't stay hidden long around here. Everyone knows each other's secrets sooner or later in a small town like this, so you may as well hear it from me than someone else."

Kaku stays quiet for a long moment, even though he's screaming inside to know. He's got to play this cool. "I mean, it'd be awful rude to assume that everyone in that town was really part of the Electric Choir, even if that's what all the journalists say. Reality isn't so sensationalist."

Bedlam gives him a funny look in the rearview mirror, eyebrows crinkled together like they're not sure if he's polite or naïve. "It's the reason I didn't learn to drive until now. No one really drove there. Didn't want folk sneaking away or warning the outside world, after all." They lean back in their seat, hands behind their head and eyes on the clouds. "I got kicked out before things got too bad, though. So I wasn't present for...you know."

The Birka Town Massacre. Carried out by the core members of the Electric Choir cult, spearheaded by the enigmatic figure only known as Enel, who's still at large and out of sight. Oh yes, Kaku's heard of the incident. And he's got so, so many questions.

"Are you alright?" No, that's a stupid question Kaku, who would be after that? "I mean—"

"Nah, I get what you mean. Sweet of you to ask." A softer smile replaces the forced neutrality on Bedlam's face. "After I got out, I stayed with family for a few years 'til I could leave my room without a panic attack, at which point they were driving me pretty damn batty. So I moved out here. Fresh start and all. Learning to drive's part of that. But enough about me, yeah? Where'd you wander over from, Kaku?"

"Oh, small fishing town back east, even smaller than here. Two stoplights and a post office, that's all we really had out there. And fish, of course. Mountains of fish."

The lie is easy and practiced. And if someone ever reviews his official records, there's a hint of truth to it. Kaku tells rehearsed stories about a town he doesn't remember, about going fishing with an uncle who doesn't exist or riding in the bed of the family pickup truck when they'd drive to get groceries a few miles over. Bedlam laughs when Kaku mimics throwing a crab back into the ocean. Happens every time he tells that tale. But it gets those lines of worry and memory to ease from his passenger's face, so he doesn't mind this time.

Bedlam doesn't direct him to a house, but near the south edge of town where half the buildings have been closed for years and the others are restaurants of infamous quality, but also the only big box store in town that draws the townsfolk in with its cheap prices. At the end of one such street, nestled between a decrepit diner and a pawn shop, is a garish building painted in pinks and blues and violets, with a bright neon sign declaring this as the "Newkama Club", a neon figure of indeterminate gender winking as part of the logo. Bedlam asks Kaku to park in front.

"And now, I won't be late for my shift. Thanks again." Bedlam opens the door and gets halfway out before pausing to ask, "We still good to meet next week? Didn't scare you off, did I?"

"I don't scare easy," Kaku says. "Meet you again next week. I can meet you here next time, or nearby, so you don't have to worry about the bus?"

"How considerate. Might take you up on that." There's a brief exchange of phone numbers for scheduling future sessions, and then the passenger door shuts. The ex-cultist marches into the town's sole queer bar with head held high like they run the world, nerves bleeding away with each step. Kaku gets the feeling he's seen a side of them that most don't get to witness, nervous and vulnerable while making up for lost time.

The lights of the winking sign dance across the rearview mirror as Kaku drives away. He's done for the evening, so he returns the Camry to the driving school, grabbing the tape he'd left in the tapedeck on the way, and heads home. The Autumn air is brisk against his face as he runs and clambers over obstacles, pent up adrenaline carrying him to the door of his apartment.

"We've got a lead," Kaku says before the door's even shut.

#opfanfic #bedlam writes #modern au #rob lucci x kaku x oc #doc bedlam #kaku #kaku one piece #spies #runaway cultist #meet cute

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mattzerella-sticks · 3 years

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⭐2020 Fics in Review ⭐

Happy New Year’s Eve! 💫💫💫 2020 sure was a year... between everything that was happening on the macro (the pandemic, elections, etc.) and on the micro-level (shows delayed, some ending - disastrously, so much drama, etc.), the past 12 months felt like a blur. Especially since we’ve been inside and realized time is an illusion!

But, there were moments where I was able to ground myself in the present and not be swept away by the tide. Most of them were because of fanfiction. Whether writing or reading, fanworks became a soothing balm. And I’d be remiss (and breaking tradition) if I didn’t reflect on my past works of 2020!

I’ve written 43 fics across a wide array of fandoms - the most being Supernatural, with 9-1-1, DC Comics, Marvel, Boku No Hero Academia, Stargirl, Star Wars, Hollywood, and RWBY sprinkled in. I really branched out this year, and am looking forward to what I will write in 2021. Maybe new fandoms? Maybe an original work? Who’s to say!

Thank you to all those who’ve read my works, and am grateful for both your support and continued engagement - can’t wait to see you in 2021 with me 😁

Here are my works!

9-1-1 (TV Show)

Caught (Evan ‘Buck’ Buckely/Eddie Diaz, side Athena Grant/Bobby Nash, side Maddie Buckley/Howie ‘Chimney’ Han)

Photobooths are prime for catching special moments and making them last forever, even if they are less both and more open spaces with a backdrop. When Athena, Bobby, and Michael stumble upon one such moment between Buck and Eddie, what will they do?

And how will it affect Maddie and Chimney?

Lumped Together (Evan ‘Buck’ Buckely/Eddie Diaz, side Henrietta ‘Hen’ Wilson/Karen Wilson, side Maddie Buckley/Howie ‘Chimney’ Han)

As an apology for keeping her thoughts about medical school secret from her wife and partner, Hen takes them (and Maddie) out for lunch. With the promise that it would only be them. And for the most part it was. Until Buck and Eddie strode in with every intention of eating Takoyaki.

Just not with them.

Armed with new information, what's a girl to do? Hen spends the next day fighting back the natural instinct to tease her friends about the wonderful step they've taken together in their relationship. Can she make it home without saying anything? Or will she give in?

DCU

Lonely Together (Barry Allen/Bruce Wayne, past Barry Allen/Iris West, past Bruce Wayne/Selina Kyle)

Barry needs others, yet whether by his enemies or his own actions, he ends up alone. After Iris leaves him, Barry feels as if he drifts through life. Like lightning humming in the air without a rod to ground him.

Until he struck another lonely soul and entered a relationship he never thought possible. Now, months since he and Bruce began sleeping with each other, Barry feels settles. At peace in a way he hasn't felt in a long while. Since he and Iris started petering out.

But it's not love... is it?

Come Home (Jason Todd/Kyle Rayner)

Jason Todd gets a message from Bruce. He's surprised to see it. Then, he's surprised by the message itself. Hearing Bruce's final message stirs something inside of him, urging him towards a place he's avoided ever since his and Bruce's falling out. So he gathers his things, and then... waits.

He can't leave yet. Jason doesn't know why. Bruce gave him a mission, just like old times. Except it's not, because he... Jason can't move. Can't even stand.

That's how Kyle finds him.

Restless (Barry Allen/Bruce Wayne)

Returning home from a mission in outer space, the team picks up a distress signal off-course. They rush off to help, landing on a strange alient planet teeming with life. Especially within the plant kingdom.

While guarding the Javelin, Bruce and Barry encounter one such member while engaging in some familiar fight-flirting. Will its effects spell trouble for the League, or help these two relax their guards long enough to explore new possibilities?

(Hint: It's a little bit of both)

Marvel

Hot Seat (Peter Parker/Johnny Storm)

Spiderman likes Johnny. Like likes him. And he thought Johnny felt the same. He wasn't wrong, but Johnny like liked someone else, too. Someone he actually wanted to pursue, over Spiderman.

Unfortunately that someone is Peter Parker.

However, after a terrible misunderstanding, Johny isn't too keen on seeing either Peter or Spiderman; the longer this confusion left unresolved, the more Johnny's hurt would fester. Can Peter find a way to make Johnny listen?

Hollywood

Merrily We Roll Along (Archie Coleman/Rock Hudson)

With their careers still on the rise and no peak in sight, sometimes Archie's and Roy's lives get a little too busy. Understandably so. Archie's in the midst of writing his next screenplay while the latest opens across America. Roy spend more time on set than at home working on his latest project. When their schedules allow it, all they want is to be together.

Can they enjoy a simple morning together, or will the clouds of Hollywood cast a heavy shadow over their sunny day?

RWBY

Lucky You, Huh? (Qrow Branwen/Clover Ebi)

After all that happened, it's time for the dust to settle. Choices were made. Now, the consequences for certain actions need to be carried out.

Even though he fought alongside her to save Mantle, Robyn Hill couldn't help save Clover from the whims of the Council. Without a job or home, Clover needs to find a way to carry on.

If anyone understands what that feels like, it's Qrow. Never being one who can communicate his feelings well, would he be the best to comfort the other man. When he's the only one who can, what does that mean for Clover?

Star Wars

Fourth (Poe Dameron/Finn)

What's a man and his co-general to do when they're on a mission together on a planet known for frequent sandstorms?

Flirt? That is a possibility. And definitely the one they take.

Stargirl

I’m Here (Courtney Whitmore/Yolanda Montez, past Yolanda Montez/Henry King, Jr.)

Coda to 1x10 "Brainwave Jr."

Losing Henry was sad, but it's not the first person Courtney knew whose future was snatched by the Injustice Society of America. That doesn't make his death any less tragic. It does remind Courtney how screwed up and dangerous her life was. At least she was able to wake up the next day and keep moving. And so was Beth, and Rick. But Yolanda...

Where was Yolanda? Courtney needs to know.

Crusher (Lawrence Crock/Paula Crock, Pat Dugan/Barbara Whitmore, Lawrence Crock/Pat Dugan)

When Lawrence met Pat, he saw another body that could benefit from some exercise at his gym. The more they interacted, became friends, he saw that body doing other things in other places. And his wife is totally supportive of this. While in the midst of an afterhours training session, Lawrence drags his feet on telling his friend a few important things. Egged on by Paula, will he say what's on his mind? How will Pat react?

And does Pat have a secret or two of his own?

Boku No Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Little Secrets Everywhere (Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijiro)

Mina thought letting Bakugo read whatever was in her folder wouldn't be too bad. Maybe he would snipe at her for her less than perfect English translation and sentence structure, slap her on the head with the balled up assignment. What she wasn't expecting was for him to charge with hellish fury towards her in the common room with all their friends to see.

One careless mistake leads to many things coming to light. Everyone walking away with something new to think about.

Boku No Fundanshi (Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijiro)

Bakugo Katsuki is a top student at the premier hero academy in the world. Bakugo Katsuki is a boy with the ability to use his sweat as a weapon, each droplet containing enough nitroglycerin to obliterate a phone book. Bakugo Katsuki enjoys reading manga where boys fall in love with one another. Two out of the three are commonly accepted facts. The final one is a heavily guarded secret that Bakugo protects with his life. At least until his vigilance lapses, and he loses a doujinshi.

Will he be able to recover what he lost before anyone realizes it's his? Or, by the end of this, will he have found something he didn't know he was missing?

Portmanteau (Bakugou Katsuki/Kirishima Eijiro)

Portmanteau (port·man·teau) n. a word blending the sounds and combining the meanings of two others

Like Bakugo's chosen hero name. But was that his first choice? Kirishima doesn't think so, after finding a damning piece of evidence hidden within his notes. Except it's not what he thinks, at all...

Supernatural

Real (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Coda to 15x09 "The Trap"

Morning after, and Sam spies a little something blossoming in the kitchen. Something that stokes the fires of his curiosity. When the scene ends, he walks in with an intent to investigate. Learn about the strange magic that happened before his eyes. How quickly Dean and Cas's relationship repaired. And what brilliant new shape it took on after Purgatory.

Will Sam be satisfied with the answer?

Half-Priced Chocolates (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

The day after Valentine's Day is great for many things. Basking in the glow of a night well spent, sharing the joy of love with your family, and eating chocolate priced considerably lower than it was the day before.

Except Sam can't enjoy any of that, because Dean won't let him. Because Dean woke up in a sour mood and has picked up the banners of war against romantic love.

Albeit, the three aforementioned things might make his conflict the shortest in history.

Spill (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Dean always thought it would take more to force him into retirement. Yet here he is, locked in the Bunker until the world figures out a cure for a deadly virus. It could be worse - at least they have a home. He cannot imagine how worse it would be if this happened years earlier, where he and Sam were trapped in a tiny motel room together. Here they have options, and miles of outdoor space they can stroll through if their options become stale.

And they were beginning to. Dean could only do so much indoors. Dean knew he needed to shake things up, but couldn't begin thinking how. Luckily Castiel has an idea, and gives him a new way of looking at their kitchen.

Supernatural Crack🩹tober

Following the Supernatural Cracktober prompt list, one day at a time.

Prompts will be listed in the notes and the chapter title.

Enjoy!

Bullets Over the Bayou (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Everyone wants Castiel Novak to quit the force, including Castiel. But he stays on despite the toxic work environment he’s surrounded by. Still believing he can do some good despite the many lines of red tape impeding him. Luckily, a pair of scissors by the name of Dean Winchester drops into his hands, and he finally feels like he can do some good.

Dean Winchester thought he would be in New Orleans for a day or two. Identify the body of his deadbeat father and then move on. No one knows he’s here. His mother and brother are blissfully unaware of the danger his father roped him into. With a parting gift of a journal, delivered to him the same day he received word about his father, Dean has become the target of a group of people who want him dead. The same people who killed his father.

Racing against the clock, can Dean and Castiel figure out what is so important about John Winchester’s journal that someone would kill for it?

Kick Ball Change (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Coda to 15x10 "The Heroes' Journey"

Dean has the Bunker to himself at a time after he and Sam regain their supernatural abilities. With nothing needing his attention, he decides taking time for himself wouldn't hurt. But the usual fare leaves him bored and tired.

So he tries something new. Something he wanted to try, but wasn't sure he would be good at. Dean starts off strong, but doing it on your own can only be so fun. Get you so far. Luckily a partner happens by and truly allows Dean to enjoy a part of himself he knew was there, but didn't want to share.

Tempered Desires (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Charlie Bradbury/OC, background Sam Winchester/Jessica Moore, background Sam Winchester/Ruby, background Sam Winchester/Mick Davies, past Dean Winchester/Arthur Ketch)

Dating, sex, and finding love were the farthest things on the minds of both Dean and Castiel. There were more important things to worry about - namely the pandemic that swept across the globe and changed everything. Navigating this new environment was hard enough without adding romance.

But fate never intervenes when you expect. From first meetings to first dates, we'll see how Dean and Castiel's relationship blossoms despite the circumstances.

Sunrise (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Dean and Sam were free. Finally, unequivocally, free.

But this wasn't the happy ending Dean had expected. Maybe in the past, having Sam in the passenger seat tearing across an open stretch of highway as the sunsets, it'd be what he wanted. But that was years ago. He's not that man anymore. Dean's tired of sunsets, of saying goodbye. He yearns for a different ending. One that's less of an ending, and more of a beginning. A sunrise instead of a sunset.

Sam has his. Dean lost his. Despite this setback, he won't stop. He'll live in memory of his sunrise.

Except, what can he do when he feels those rays on his face again?

Coda to 15x19

Fixing It (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Dean Winchester walked a long & difficult road. House burning down when he was 4, constantly being on the move until his father lost a fight with demons at the age of 25. Reunited with his mother only to lose her again. Have a son only to lose him, too. Of all the shadows that have crossed his path, he thought one of the main sources of light was his husband Castiel.

But he had to ruin that, too.

Can he ever have that shine again? Or are there things that are too good for him to hold? Will they mend what was broken?

Heart in My Hand (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

He was right there.

Cas was telling Dean everything he ever wanted to hear since meeting the angel of the Lord... only each and every word of his confession stabbed at Dean's heart. Because once he finished, there's no more time for them. For him. For any chance of happiness - all that taken away by the Empty. And now he has to carry on.

He tries. Stands, gets in his car and drives where Sam tells him. When he meets with the others, though...

Coda to 15x18 "Despair"

A Dumb Idea (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

They celebrated Christmas, Halloween, Thanksgiving, birthdays, even the Fourth of July. What about the other holidays? What about Valentine's Day?

Mrs. Butters actually had a plan for that, but she left before it could come to fruition. Sam, however, stumbles on Dean and a leftover piece from said plan. Something Dean would rather Sam not see. When he does get a peek as to what it is, well... Dean and Sam have a lot to talk about.

Coda to 15x14 "The Last Holiday"

What the Water Gave Him (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

It was over. Chuck lost, Sam and Dean can live their lives how they want them. But their victory wasn't without losses. The biggest upset nearly taking Dean out of the game, happening so close to the final battle. Now he's on the other side, alive against all odds, but Sam knows he isn't happy. Not truly happy since the Empty stole his best friend.

But there's a chance they can save him. A slim chance. A risk that Dean's willing to take despite every logical nerve in Sam's body screaming at him to look for better options. That threading a needle this small is too dangerous. That they don't have to take on another big bad, not anymore. That they don't have to risk their lives anymore. Dean is far past the point of listening. Dead set on this mission, Sam can only watch.

And pray his brother proves him wrong.

(Now with art from gabester-sketch)

Acutely (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Jack said he's sorry, after getting his soul back.

Jack said he's sorry, and he's looking at Dean. They're all looking at Dean.

Jack said he's sorry, and Dean can't take it. It's too much. Like a frog thrown into a boiling pot he hops out, jumping out from the room towards safety. Doing his best not to succumb to the pain.

He can't hide forever, let the wounds fester. It's too much to deal with on his own, though. Can someone help him through it?

Leeches (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Sharing a Netflix makes sense, in hindsight. Dean gets it. But that doesn't mean he appreciates seeing a bunch of profiles after his that weren't there last he checked.

He's gonna get to the bottom of this - of when this happened, why, and how they were able to guess his password.

Revival (Dean Winchester/Castiel, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

Sam and Dean stand there on the bridge, the camera panning out on them as they are finally reunited in Heaven.

But then Sam wakes up.

(Coda/Fix-It Fic to 15x20 "Carry On")

Memento (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Why did Castiel have a photo of himself in a cowboy hat? Where did he get it? Who took it, and more importantly who gave it to him?

Coda to 15x15 "Gimme Shelter"

The End (We Deserve) (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Dean Winchester dies in Sam's arms.

And then he doesn't.

(How that scene originally looked...)

Constants

Meeting with alternate versions of themselves makes Sam and Dean think about what the landscape of the former multiverse might have looked like - or, really, "If there can be multiple Deans and multiple Sams, can there be other versions of things they know. Like... Baby?"

Dean says no. There's only one Baby. She's got four wheels, black paint, and has been his from the beginning. Sam thinks otherwise.

Let's explore what the possibilities of Deans, Sams, and Babys in different universes might look like.

Enjoy the Present (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Sam had a birthday, Jack had a birthday...

It would only be fitting for Dean to have one, too. It's expected, really. Yet the one Sam and Jack throw him still catches him by surprise. Maybe because he actually agreed with Butters, about having outgrowned birthdays. Or because his thoughts were pulled elsewhere because of some disappointing news.

If it's the latter, than a birthday will definitely take his mind off of that. Especially when it comes time for his present.

Coda to 15x14 'The Last Holiday'

Swallow It Whole (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

"The older you get... the less lies make everything better"

But when you've told as many lies as Dean has, it's hard to tell what's true and what's not. How can he remove all the rotten parts of himself without bringing everything down? Which lies have ingrained themselves so firmly, that removing them would change everything about who he was?

And, scariest of them all, who would he be without those lies?

Coda to 15x16 "Drag Me (Away From You)"

Desperation, Baby! (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Death took her sweet time parsing through Chuck's book, meaning Lucifer spent longer than he'd like surrounded by his former vessel, his brother, his son, and a man whose obvious longing made him want to vomit. Instead of returning with his prize, Chuck welcoming him back, he must waste his valuable time playing 'nice; with those he can't stand.

Not that it matters. They don't trust him, each member of this ragtag group of survivors watching Lucifer in shifts. Never leaving him alone.

It's Dean's turn now, and he's driving Lucifer up a wall by doing nothing at all save for broadcasting a never-ending supply of feeling. Can he cut the signal without showing his hand, or put Dean's heart to good use?

Coda to 15x19 "Inherit the Earth"

A Healing Touch/New Experiences (Dean Winchester/Castiel, Adam/Serafina)

Maybe if Cas hadn't abandoned him, he wouldn't have agreed to Adam's offer. But with free will finally theirs, Cas made his choice, and Dean his. Now he has to live with the consequences - even if they are awkward. He won't die from it, certainly.

It's only a massage.

But what Dean doesn't know, is that it's more than a massage. It's healing.

It Feels Real Good (Claire Novak/Kaia Nieves, background Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Jody sent her to Yosemite, and she brings her back. For what reason, Claire doesn't know. But it had better be important, otherwise Claire gave the Dark Figure that stole her happiness another chance at escape. Will Jody's house hold a reason important enough for Claire to let go of the heavy burdens she's been carrying since hopping through a rift into another universe?

Coda to 15x12 "Galaxy Brain"

Through the Door (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Cas tells Sam that Chuck and Amara are here. But how does he know? Sure, he could've felt them land through his grace. But all that time Sam was gone? There was enough there that he could've investigated. They'd need to know where they were anyway, when the time came.

But Cas should've known better. Now wasn't the best moment for a little family reunion, especially when there's so much bad blood it can drown them all. Yet he came, and finally got the audience he always seeked with his father.

Coda to 15x17 "Unity"

Four of Swords (Dean Winchester/Castiel, background Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

The Four of Swords, in the present position, means you don't want to interact with the rest of the world. Because of stress, you need to spend some time with yourself - unhealthy always being 'on'. That the healthiest thing to do is to escape.

Dean might crave escape, but it's not something he thinks he can have. Something he deserves, even. After his and Sam's most recent hunt, this cancerous feeling has grown heavy and weighs him down. He cannot escape on his own, as best he tries.

Luckily a guardian 'former angel' angel swoops in at his lowest. Helps pick up the pieces as best he can and lovingly put them back together. But he can only do so much. The rest is up to Dean.

Can Dean take those final steps, say those final words, and finally free himself?

i’d like to teach the world to sing (Dean Winchester/Castiel, Castiel/Others, WIP, 10 out of 15 chapters posted so far)

Mar del Vista, California - 1972

The groovy counterculture that dominated conversation in the past few years still clings to the landscape, floating around like smoke off a burning joint. Changed by the fires of war, Manson, and life into something new. Less trusting, optimistic, and innocent.

Cas is just one of many disillusioned hippies, saddled with a general distrust even before the movement self-imploded. Wary of about everything. Perfect for his line of work, where what's on the surface might not match the truth underneath. It's not an easy life, but he's comfortable with how it goes. Coasting until he hears a case he has no business accepting. For one, it's about a missing teen. And another, it's personal.

Except Jack's disappearance, like every other case he's worked, isn't so cut and dry. Like a rock skipping across a then-placid lake, the ripples stretch far and wide. Those waves slamming at Cas; of cops, federal agents, hippie cultists, and a certain green-eyed detective who's a little too interested in Cas's investigation.

Will Cas find Jack? Or will he drown in the tides.

Checkmate (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Billie saves Jack from suffering a fatal end from her plan, and knowing Jack was safe gave Cas space to focus on his own troubles. Nearly losing his son again... revelations from Chuck... choices Dean made, were set on, until Sam broke through at the last minute - too close - they all were...

It was too much. Cas needed to digest these roiling experiences away from faces it hurt to look at. Except he stumbles exactly where Chuck wants him. After countless times praying for guidance, Chuck finally decides now is perfect for a long-awaited heart-to-heart.

Coda to 15x17 "Unity"

Slide (Dean Winchester/Castiel, Eileen Leahy/Sam Winchester)

This isn't his day. It's Sam's and Eileen's. But while out on the dance floor, Dean realizes something that forces him to act. Act boldly.

It's not his day, but he cannot push back what's been there all along, dam bursting with no hope or need of rebuilding itself. He has to say something to Cas.

Why? Because it's Electric... boogie woogie woogie

(Inspired by the Suptober Day 9 prompt - Electric)

Unwrap Me (Dean Winchester/Castiel)

Dean never thought he would make it this far. Nor would he have as many wonderful things that he has now. A home, friends, family, and most importantly love. With a former angel.

Given how normal his life is now, Dean decides he wants to go all out celebrating Christmas. Parties, feasts, and the perfect presents. He wants to get Cas something that will translate everything that resides in his heart. Dean believes he has the right gift, but decides against leading with it. Instead surprising Cas with it after showing him his Christmas best.

Although, during his entire time planning Cas's present, he never wondered what Cas got him...

Disappointment is temporary, but creativity is eternal 🥂 to more fanworks in 2021!!!

26 notes · View notes

leonaluv · 3 years

Note

Hi I hope you’re having a good day❤️.A social media influencer name nessa Barrett is releasing her debut EP September 10th called pretty poison do you think it will be successful? Also she said the ep is really personal and tells her side of the story over some drama that happened a few months ago do you think ppl would finally understand her side or would they keep judging her? Sorry for the really long request but thank you in advance ❤️

Good evening my day is going good. The Storm just clear out so nice sunny day.

For the most part it won't be to popular ,but it won't flop at the same time. She will love what she is doing since she is putting all the effort into the album.

The timing is great to catch people eye and to gather a fan base and yes people will still judge her.

Next year is when she can start doing well.

#nessa tarot

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pennylanefics · 4 years

Text

Storms

a/n: if anyone remembers, i posted this a while back and had so much drama with it, and i forgot about it until just now 😂

•••

taron

- you and taron were watching his younger sisters for the night while his mom and step-dad went out to dinner and a movie. although you were planning to have a lazy night in with just taron, you didn’t mind watching his sisters. they were so sweet and saw you as a big sister already.

“alright, loves! time for bed!” taron calls out, gathering the two young girls in for a hug.

“say goodnight to (y/n),” he instructs them, pushing them towards you. sitting on the couch with your arms open, one by one you give them a hug, bidding them goodnight and watching them run upstairs, taron following.

“i’ll be down in a few, love. pick out a movie and would you mind making some popcorn?” you smile and agree, going into the kitchen to start the snack.

after the popcorn was done and the movie was picked out, you passed the time by playing on your phone. finally, taron quietly made his way down the steps with an apologetic expression on his face.

“sorry that took so long. they wanted a bedtime story about how we met and, well, i got carried away,” he tells you shyly. you giggle and curl up into his body as he plops down on the couch beside you, crawling under the cover with you.

“you’re too cute.”

about an hour into the movie, one of his sisters came down the stairs, holding a stuffed animal and rubbing her eyes.

“my sweet mary, what’s wrong?” taron cooes as the young girl trudges over to you two.

“the storm is scaring me,” she murmurs, cuddling into taron’s chest. he rubs her back comfortingly and leans back into the couch.

“it’s okay. you can stay with us until it passes, okay?” she nods and closes her eyes to try and fall asleep. taron’s eyes dart over to you with another sorry look on his face.

‘i’m sorry,’ he mouths to you. you shake your head, silently telling him not to be sorry for wanting to care for his sister.

dennis

- you were fast asleep next to dennis, and even though you were usually a heavy sleeper, dennis’ shaking body and soft whimpers were enough to wake you up.

“den, what’s wrong, hun?” you mumble sleepily. dennis shakes his head while staring out the window, watching the storm rain down onto your home.

“‘m fine, go back to sleep, love.” sitting up, you notice he has the covers pulled up to his nose and his cheeks were shiny with fresh tears.

“dennis, is it the storm?” you wonder, scooting closer towards him. he doesn’t say anything, which confirms your thought.

“you know you can tell me anything.” he nods and finally looks at you.

“the thunder reminds me of when my dad used to destroy the house in an angry rage. i can remember from my childhood, sitting in my room and hearin’ him flip the couch over and knock over bookshelves. the th-, the thunder sounds exactly like that.” your heart breaks as you listen to dennis explain what he grew up with. you never knew the extent of his dad’s abuse, you just knew that his father was awful.

“come here, baby. everything will be okay,” you whisper against his forehead.

“you want me to put some music on to drown the sound out?” he thinks for a moment before shaking his head.

“will you just talk with me, about anythin’ to keep me distracted until it passes?”

“of course, my love. what do you want to talk about?”

“when was the moment you realized that you wanted to marry me?”

eggsy

- a low rumble sounded outside the house, causing eggsy to look up from his laptop and to you.

“wha’ was that?” he wonders, eyes wide with fear. you shake your head and go back to watching tv.

“probably just thunder, bub. it’s nothing.”

“but what if that was another explosion and it was at my mum’s?” eggsy’s voice was filled with horror. ever since the unfortunate events that killed his friends, colleagues, and JB, thunder has terrified him. usually, the thunder comes after the rain, and it’s frequent, so he knows it’s just thunder. but now, it was starting before, which got eggsy thinking differently.

“call her and check in, yeah? i’m sure it’s just thunder, but do that and make sure she’s okay.” he nods and frantically picks his phone up, dialing his mom’s number. a sigh of relief leaves his mouth when he hears her voice, his body relaxing as he sees that his mom and sister are safe.

“you better?”

“a little.” you go back to doing your own things, until the storm starts to get worse. about twenty minutes later, eggsy sets his laptop on the table and crawls over to you, falling into your lap.

“hey, bub.”

“can we cuddle for a little while?’ he asks shyly. you agree and hold him close, running your fingertips up and down his back to keep him calm.

“it’s gonna be alright, eggsy. the storm will pass and you’ll be okay,” you whisper against his forehead. he takes a deep breath shakily and glances up at you.

“i fuckin’ love you so much.”

dean

- you and dean recently moved to chicago after everything with the BBC went to hell. sydney and joe stayed in Los Angeles, but dean needed to get away from it all.

chicago seemed like a perfect fit for the both of you. you liked that it was right on the lake, and there were so many business jobs in the city for dean to choose from.

moving from the west coast to the midwest took some getting used to. winter was very much a season here, compared to sunny california, where it was summer year round with 50 degree weather in the winter. the storms were also something that was different. sure, it rained in LA, but there were rarely tornadoes.

one night, a storm got particularly nasty and the sirens ended up going off. terrified and not knowing what to do, you ran to dean, who sat at the kitchen table, working on an upcoming presentation for work.

“what the hell do we do, dean?!” you run to him, years beginning to stream down your cheeks. upon realizing your fear, he calmly stands up and takes you into the bathroom.

“we stay in here until the sirens stop. we would go to a basement, but seeing as we live in an apartment, there isn’t one. and the next best thing is to sit in the tub, in a bathroom with no windows. we’ll be fine. the sirens mean that there was a spotting of a tornado somewhere, but it doesn’t mean it will stay strong enough. it’ll most likely die down and pass by.” dean’s voice soothed you enough to calm down, although tears still fell down your cheeks.

“we’ll be okay.”

“we should’ve never moved to where tornadoes are common,” you mumble. dean chuckles and presses a kiss to your forehead.

“tornadoes can happen anywhere, my sweet. and i thought you love here so far?”

“i do, but i’ve never been in a storm this bad.”

“oh, honey. i told you, we’ll be fine. i promise you, okay?”

“okay.”

liam

- “baby, where are you?” liam calls out into the dark room. he noticed you weren’t in the bed beside him and he immediately grew worried. but, once he noticed the storm raging right outside of his window, he understood.

you’ve always hated storms, and when they woke you up, you could never get back to sleep. so, you always sat on the couch and had some tea to help calm you down. but, since you were at liam’s house, you had no idea where he kept the tea, if he had any.

“love, what are you doin’ out of bed?” liam mumbles, rubbing his eyes as he makes his way over to you. he takes a seat next to you, wrapping his arms around your body.

“the storm woke me up,” you whisper, shaking a bit when thunder roars outside. liam rubs your arms, gently rock in you back and forth.

“why didn’t you wake me?”

“i’m usually fine after i have tea and sit on my couch, but i didn’t know where you keep it, if you have any.”

“oh darling, you should’ve told me! i would’ve been happy to make you some.” liam doesn’t wait for your response, instead he gets up and runs to the kitchen, quickly making you a cup of tea.

“babe, you wanna come help me? i don’t know how you like it.” you stand and make your way to the kitchen, seeing liam standing there, waiting for the cup to cool down. after you add whatever you needed to, liam walks back to the living room with you.

“you’re usually fine with rain, is it the thunder and lightning?” he wonders, returning to the same spot you two were in before.

“yeah, plus the wind. it was shaking the house so bad and that’s what terrifies me.”

“i’m sorry, love. if there’s ever a storm, don’t hesitate to wake me up. i want to help you, okay?” you nod and lean your head on his shoulder, relishing in the comfort and warmth of his body.

“i have an idea that may help take your mind off the storm,” liam says cheekily. you set your empty cup on the coffee table and look at him, waiting for his idea.

“how about a little make out session?” he raises an eyebrow, slowly leaning in for a kiss. a giggle escapes your lips as you give in, laying back on the couch with liam hovering over you.

“gotta make my baby feel better.”

•••

taglist: @inlovewithmobtom @loveharrington @buck-barn @arrozsocarrat @inglourious-jules @butlegendsneverdie @1-800-fandomsdestroyedme @thankutaron @toky-9101 @awessomness

225 notes · View notes

sgrungle · 4 years

Text

Bulldog in a Snake Pit (ch2)

“What can I do for you fellas” you chuckle nervously.

“Ya know, I thought a serpent never betrays their own, but guess I was wrong” Sweet Pea scoffs and storms off, the other members following suit.

The interaction caught you off guard but you couldn’t say you were surprised, after a few seconds of shock you ran after the tall serpent.

“Pea wait!” you called as you pushed your way past a group of agitated serpents. The lack of a reply left you even more frustrated, stopping in your tracks. Right as the serpents went to exit the school hall, you felt the anger boil in your blood.

“Fine! Screw you Sweet Pea! At least the Bulldogs care about me!” at this the dark haired boy turned to face you, his face filled with rage. However, you did catch what appeared to be a glimpse sadness in his eyes.

Upon re-entering the locker room, you were immediately surrounded by your team.

“What did those guys want from you y/n” Archie asked, voice laced with concern.

“yeah, who I gotta deal with?” Reggie prompted, patting you on the shoulder.

“Guys please just leave it alone, I’m just going to go home” you said, grabbing your things. A couple of the guys offered you a ride but you just waved them off, grabbing your bus pass out.

The ride home was altogether uneventful but you felt the evening’s events swirling in your mind. So when the bus finally stopped near the Sunny Side, you felt the anxiety churn inside of you.

The crisp fall wind blasting through your sweater and the hard gravel crunching under your shoes, you fumbled your keys out of your bag. Tossing the bag back over your shoulder you nearly collided with Toni as you tried to unlock your door.

“What are you doing Toni?” you asked, staring her down.

“Taking this back” she snapped, dangling your serpents jacket in front of your face and slamming your front door shut.She went to pass you but you caught her arm.

“Give it back”

“No, I don’t think I will. Sweet Pea told us what happened and I don’t think you’ll be needing this anymore”

“Really Toni?” you question. “And dating Cheryl Blossom of all people makes you such a perfect serpent” you snap.

You take her momentary shock to your advantage, ripping the jacket out of her hand you rush through the front door and forcefully slam it behind you. Sliding down the door until you were sitting with your knees to your chest, you wait until she’s gone to start crying.

The tears pour down your face, you, Toni, Sweet Pea, and Fangs used to be best friends but so many things had changed over the past year.

Old memories racing through your mind like a camera flash, you feel the sadness turn into anger. Anger at Sweet Pea for storming off, anger at Toni for being a bitch, anger at all of Riverdale high and all the drama that followed.

Sighing and finally feeling the days events catching up to you, you begin to feel sleepy. Marching to your room you toss off your clothes off and begin to get ready for bed.

The loud pounding sound of your alarm startled you awake. Quickly getting ready and gathering your things, you jog to the bus stop to avoid any serpent run ins.

Once at school, however, forgetting the previous nights events proved to be harder than you feared. Every bulldog coming up to talk to you and every serpent glaring at you as you passed. To make matters worse you saw the core four coming up to you and you could already see the concern in Veronica’s eyes.

“y/n what the hell happened to you?” she interrogated, voice harboring her anger.

“It’s nothing... really” you said softly, not wanting to make a scene in the crowded hall way.

“It’s not nothing y/n, those guys were obviously after something!” Archie prompted.

“Please guys it’s fine!” you begged, trying to remain inconspicuous.

“Guys obviously they don’t want to talk about it maybe we should just let it be” Betty chimed in but it was already too late.

“The South Side Serpent’s were messing with you?” Jughead asked, more for reassurance as he knew the story already.

“I can just ask my dad, maybe he knows what they want, then we could find a way out of this for you”

“Jughead it’s fine, that’s really not necessary” you started, when Veronica stormed towards the nearby common room, the others briskly following behind her.

“Listen here you South Side Snakes, I don’t know who you are or what your deal is with y/n, but it ends right here, right now” Veronica’s bold words capturing the entire rooms attention. In the corner of the room Sweet Pea stood up and looked at you from your place in the outside hallway.

“Yeah, couldn’t agree more” Sweet Pea stated roughly, turning tail and motioning for the remaining gang members to follow.

The heat was rising in your cheeks and you could feel the tears start to pool in your eyes as you dashed into the nearest bathroom, ignoring the calls from your north side friends.

{END OF PART TWO}

#angst #sweet pea #riverdale #jughead jones #betty cooper #archie and veronica #riverdale cheryl #south side serpents #sweetpea x reader #reggie x reader #drama #toni topaz #riverdale imagine #archie andrews #veronica lodge #fangs forgarty imagine #sweetpea imagine

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shardminds · 4 years

Text

The Swan that fell for the Sea (1/3)

To @itsfabianadocarmo ♥ It is me, your Secret Santa!

You've been the most lovely giftee and gave me LOADS of free reign on this one and, as a result, you're receiving one of the longest works I've ever written! I went off your love of Captain Duckling and Silver Fox!Killian, wove in some Christmas elements and a sweet epilogue and sprinkled in some ~drama~ and here we are! You're a fantastic part of this fandom, my love ♥ Here’s to a wonderful Christmas and I hope that 2020 brings you love and joy and lots of good times! also, this monster is the reason I haven't got around to posting the drabble prompt you requested yet ;)

Thank you to @cssecretsanta2k19 for running this event! You’re a star and have brought so many people joy! I hope you have a wonderful Christmas ♥

And, finally, a HUGE thanks to @thisonesatellite for whipping me into shape and helping me mould the idea of this into a story. I owe you a million hugs and a bottle of something nice. ‘Tis the season, after all!

Emma Swan falls for a man of the sea. She doesn’t mean to but she does all the same. The scent of salt and leather and rum lingers on her skin long after he’s gone and, as the warm summer breeze makes way for winter’s icy chill, she wonders if he’ll ever return.

He does, and things will never be the same again.

Part 2 ¦ Also available on AO3 ♠

Emma had never wanted for much in her life.

A sunny day, here and there, perhaps. A brief reprieve from the mundanities of her duties, now and again.

Here, now, there is nothing she wants more than for time to stop.

It’s selfish, to want one moment to last an eternity, not to mention impossible. At many points in her twenty-one summers, she’d been told falling in love was an impossibility too.

Yet, here she is.

The far off crash of the waves and the gentle ebbing of the ship had awoken her far earlier than anticipated. Sleep still grips at her lids, her wrists, her ankles, and though its draw is ever so tempting, to bathe in the ignorant bliss of it all, she wills away its tendrils and lets the familiarity of worn sheets keep her company. Through the cabin window, the sun has not yet breached the horizon and the stars still stand prominent between scattered clouds, the collection he’d named for her glinting softly. A reminder.

He hadn’t named it after her, he’d named her after it.

Cygnus.

Swan.

She’s already forgotten the moniker she’d used before that. Her true name, she remembers, and, more than anything, she longs to tell him. Just once, she wants to hear him say it, to hear it fall from his mouth in the throes of passion, to hear it whispered in her ear when there’s no one else around, to hear it spoken proudly in front of an audience at their wedding.

But there’s no time; no time for questions, no time for confessions. There’s only time for this.

Killian holds her tighter, his arm tight around her bare waist as his solid chest presses to her back in the same way they’d spent all previous nights that summer, with the scruff of his beard catching at her temple along with the brief softness of his lips. It’s sweet, reverent, and it takes everything in her power not to meet him in a fierce kiss and resume their activities from the evening before and somehow sear his touch into her flesh so she’ll never truly be without him.

He’s leaving in the morning.

She cannot stand to see him go.

It had been early summer when The Jolly Roger had first made port in Misthaven. The solstice celebrations had come and gone, but the cool ocean breeze and promise of excitement coaxed Emma to the docks each night, visiting taverns in tattered skirts, drinking from bottles of cheap wine and cheaper ale, dancing barefoot in the streets around glowing embers of what were once fires and just being in a way that was so foreign and yet so familiar that existing among it made Emma’s heart swell. By beggar and thief, soldier and sailor, wench and widow, she’d found a place for herself.

That’s where they met.

Ruby, her friend, barmaid of the tavern closest to the shorefront, and always dressed in shades of red, had brought it to her attention first.

“It seems you have an admirer.” She noted, toothy smile parting her red-stained lips while slamming an overflowing tankard on the table beside where Emma sat, tucked into the corner just enough to avoid unwanted attention while still being able to see the commotions of the crowded inn unfold. “This is from him.”

“Ruby–”

“Trust me on this.” Flashing the five gold she’d taken as payment, Ruby smirked. Five gold. To most people, five gold would fund an entire week of celebration with a few silver to spare. But not Emma. She flashed her friend a smile, bringing the tankard up in thanks before taking a sip. She let the flavours dance on her tongue before swallowing. Wiping the foam that had escaped her lips with the sleeve of her dress, she looked in the direction of her admirer.

Candlelight painted him in a warm glow, catching on his worn leather overcoat, embroidered crimson waistcoat, and the chain around his neck that lay nestled in the dark hair of his chest. Dragging her eyes up, she caught sight of his face. He was older, significantly so, but he still held a youthful essence in the strength of his jaw and the quirk of his brow, it caught her off guard in a way she hadn’t expected. Grey and white teased at his temples and in the stubble of his beard but despite it all, he was captivating. In fact, it enhanced his appeal.

In his eyes, blue as the summer sea, a brewing storm.

With a knowing smile, he raised his tankard and took a deep gulp, mirroring her as he wiped the moisture from his lips with the cuff of his sleeve. Her eyes followed the movement intently, transfixed on the brass buttons and definitely not on the softness of his lips. She didn’t even realise she was staring until he winked and she abruptly turned to focus on her own drink.

Surrounded on all sides by crowds of drunkards, cowards and fools, the only sound in the room was the beat of Emma’s heart and the rush of blood in her ears. The tingle of a smile creeping to her lips.

She’d avoided looking his way again that night, knowing that she’d find him looking right back, with eyes dark and dangerous. It didn’t stop her thinking about what his lips would taste like.

The next few nights were more of the same. She’d dance in the late evening with the children out way past their bedtime, sing with the sailors sat atop empty barrels, drink and laugh inside the tavern on that same little table tucked away in the corner, but he never came over. He sat a fair distance away, sending her a tankard of the sweetest ale each night along with smiles, winks, stolen glances and nothing more.

His friends each had a woman in their lap most nights, sometimes two, but he never did.

It was five days before she even learned his name.

“Captain Jones.” Ruby yawned, on a rare break from her duties, sipping a cup of something with a sweet and spiced scent. “Story says he’s moored here all summer but one of his men let slip that he’s waiting on an important contract from the palace.”

“So they’re sellswords?” Hiding her surprise, Emma finished off the dregs of her brew. It’s not likely that anyone in the palace would stoop to such levels. They had armies, navies, dedicated men who would lay their life on the line for the crown. They had no use for pirates. That’s not how they do things in Misthaven.

Two tankards thunked to the table, catching both women by surprise.

“Pirates, actually.”

It’s an accent she couldn’t quite place but there’s no mistaking who it belonged to. Her stomach dropped as he took a seat beside her, not imposing on her personal space but still close enough that the scent of the sea air rolled off him, enveloping her in its comforting embrace. “It seems our favourite maid is taking a reprieve, so I took it upon myself to bring this over in person. I gathered it’s well past due that I make your acquaintance.”

Up close, the crow’s feet at the edge of his eyes were unmissable, but they didn’t distract from the intensity of his gaze. His whole look had an ageless and yet ancient quality to it, like somebody who’d seen too much and yet still longed for more. Emma searched his face for any sign of threat, ill will or nefarious intent but found none, only met with a soft smile and eyes she could drown in. She wanted to.

“I do believe you have my name already.” Honey. It’s what was in the beer, and what coated his voice, thick and deep and teased with a sharp edge. Her name sat on her tongue, heavy as lead, and she reluctantly swallowed it back. Here, Emma did not exist. Here, she was someone else.

She allowed herself to smile, or really, she couldn’t help the smile that tugged at her lips. There was something about him, something intriguing that drew her in deeper each time their eyes met. Against her better judgement, she wanted to know him and, more worryingly, she wanted him to know her. Lifting up the drink he’d provided in thanks, Emma responded.

“Leia.”

His focus shifted from her eyes to her lips and, instinctively, she darted her tongue out to wet them. Averting his gaze with a smile, he shook his head, dismissive.

“No, that’s not it,” Emma’s kept her face blank, fighting the urge to react to his observation. How had he seen through her so easily? How had he been able to hear one word from her mouth and know, instantly, that it was a lie? His eyes still held no trace of malice, a softness coming over them in a familiar understanding and she wanted to trust him. “but your secrets can be yours.”

He didn’t push further and Emma didn’t offer an invitation to, but the conversation flowed comfortably, well into the night, until the shimmer of dawn lightened the horizon as they walked along the empty beach and he, Captain Jones, pointed up to the barely visible stars, reciting long forgotten stories of men that lost themselves in the sun and their lovers who mourned them.

“Swan.” He said, with an outstretched finger pressed to her chest, just above the neckline of her dress. Had it been any lower, she’d have given him a playful smack but, as it was, the contact made her smile, warmth emanating from his touch. The smile he wore in return was free and open, with straight white teeth and lips pink as middlemist petals. How he managed to captivate her, with the threat of sunrise rapidly approaching, was beyond her comprehension, her alcohol-addled mind thinking far too deeply into things better left unsaid.

“Pardon?” She started, looking up from his finger into his eyes, dark in the predawn haze but kind in ways she didn’t then understand.

“That’s what I’ll call you.” His eyes lingered for a second too long on her lips, something he’d been doing a lot, not that Emma minded.

She found herself doing the same thing.

“Why?” She hummed, placing one hand on his chest and feeling the steady beat of his heart. She could’ve danced to it, a waltz at a masquerade ball, with full skirts and sharp suits and masks slowly slipping. A memory of another life.

“Tomorrow. I’ll tell you tomorrow.” The words reverberated through his chest beneath her fingers and, more than anything else, she wanted to kiss him. The alcohol was probably to blame, and the rush that comes with welcome attention from a handsome stranger but, above all else, it was the ease of their conversations that night, how no matter what subjects or topics they veered down, they were there together, unravelling each other in a much more intimate way than ever expected.

She wanted to be Emma with him. Just Emma.

Maybe one day she’d allow herself that privilege.

She wanted to kiss him, drunk on ale and good conversation and something else.

So she did.

Rum and salt. A calloused hand holding her cheek. Stubble teasing at her chin. Soft hair beneath her palms. Heart hammering against her chest.

It was gentle, a press of lips before the rising sun bathed them in an angelic glow. He pulled away first, resting his forehead against hers to catch his breath, eyes closed and still smiling, but Emma leaned in for more, catching his lips again in something deeper, only satisfied when his other hand found its way to the small of her back and he pulled her close until not an inch of space was between them. She was on fire, from the tips of her fingers, one with a fist full of hair and the other still over his heart, right down to her toes, where the ocean lapped at her bare feet, shoes forgotten in the sand.

The next night was a similar evening spent enjoying the summer festivities, and when she found him at Ruby’s tavern, he greeted her with a slow kiss. She leaned into it, deepening it with a press of her tongue against his lips until her breath was short and his hands made their way to her hair. Before he could take control, she pulled away, catching the end of a quiet curse under his breath. His men cheered on and the Captain threw some colourful expletives their way, all the while following Emma to her corner table. They spent the night there, drinking and talking and laughing and existing until need got the better of her and she pulled Killian by the sleeve of his coat out of the tavern and towards The Jolly Roger.

She held onto him the whole way, fearing that losing his touch would cause her newfound courage to dissipate into the sea. She wanted this, this spark of elation that had overcome her so suddenly, and the anticipation of what it could bring, no matter how temporary. Emma knew that summer romances weren’t meant to last – she’d heard as much from the hushed voices of maids and servants when no one thought she was listening, stories of hope and desire, falling with the umber leaves come the first touch of chill – but she couldn’t not chase this feeling.

It was something new, dangerous and it left her soaring, light as a feather, released from all the burdens of the life she’d have to return to in the morning. It was escape in its basest form. She had not felt anything as intoxicating in her life.

She had not known him long, less than a day, really, but her mind was made up.

He tasted of laughter and smiles and the sweetness of summer wine when she kissed him on the deck. The moon their only audience.

“Swan,” He sighed, her name a whisper on his lips, as Emma let the cloak around her shoulders drop to the wood below and reached to unlace her bodice, urgency coursing through her, a fire in her veins. Her dress was simple, only slightly nicer than what she would’ve usually worn, with fewer tatters at the hem and tighter lacing that enhanced her chest. It was a world away from what she would have worn at home but then again that’s exactly where she was. A world away.

He caught her hand in one of his own, untangling her fingers from the leather ties as he brought them to his lips. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t truly want to. I don’t want you to think I expect this from you.”

Confused, she searched his face, finding a conflicted frown there. Did her inexperience show that badly? Yes, the nerves were there, simmering within her as he kissed the pad of each finger but, at that moment, she’d never wanted anything more than to be one with him. She’d waited a long time to feel that way about anyone. No pressure, no expectations, nothing guiding her other than her own agency.

Reaching for him, she let her thumb trail his jaw and trace his lips. He smiled, focused on the path of her thumb as she stepped into his space.

“I do want to, Captain–” His eyes snapped up to hers and she almost lost herself in them, their depth threatening to swallow her whole. If it was his intention to devour her with one look alone, he’d succeeded.

“Killian. Please call me Killian.”

Below deck, two pairs of hands worked at Emma’s bodice.

His and hers.

Naked together, exploring each other, she felt part of herself slip away, finding its home in the gaps between his ribs, in the scars of his back, in the hair below his navel. She felt a part of him too, in the hollow of her collar bone, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her spine.

It was slow, exhilarating in a way that had the hairs of her arms standing on end, gooseflesh spreading across her thighs as Killian caressed her in all the places she’d craved to be touched. He built her up to a precipice she’d only ever reached by her own hand and encouraged her over the edge with his tongue. Her legs trembled as she fell, clenching around his ears, orgasm overtaking every atom of her being with a rush of energy emanating from her core. If she screamed out, it was lost to the crash of the waves and, later, Killian’s greedy kisses stealing her breath.

“You’re divine, my Swan.” He whispered the words against her mouth, lips slick with an unfamiliar but not unpleasant tang. It took her a second, world slowly becoming clearer through the haze of her orgasm, to realise that the unfamiliar taste was her own.

When he finally came to enter her, she was beyond ready, begging for his touch with nails biting into the flesh of his shoulders from sheer want alone. Gasps of please fell from her parted lips as he pressed kisses into her skin, some delicate as butterfly wings, others fierce and sharp that she hoped would leave bruises, some kind of token that the pleasure she gained at his touch was real.

He built a rhythm, gentle at first, easing her through the discomfort with words of encouragement and languid kisses. Emma felt as the uncomfortable stretch of him faded away with each slow entrance of him, replaced only by her own urgency to reach her peak. When her hips bucked up to meet him, unsatisfied each time he wasn’t fully seated inside, he knew she was ready.

One finger trailed over her breast, circling her peaked nipple and teasing the pebbled flesh there, and in his eyes was pure lust. The touch of it enveloped them both in a fog that had her reaching out for him, a single whine falling between them as the angle of them shifted and he met her in a kiss that ignited fire beneath her flesh. He rocked deeper, faster and soon they were both clinging to each other, awaiting release on each thrust, gasping with the sensation of it.

They fell apart together, with Killian using two fingers to stroke at the apex of her thighs as his rhythm became quick and uneven, and Emma not able to hold back the moans that tore their way out of her throat, rough and broken but oh, so good. It was blinding. Emma couldn’t help but arch against him, hair frayed from its usual braid and eyes squeezed shut as the entire world flashed white behind her eyelids.

She awoke in the dark, sore, sated and happy, not quite remembering how she’d fallen asleep in his arms, only knowing that she didn’t want to leave.

“Cygnus.” With a kiss pressed just below her ear, Killian started, his voice deep and husky. The roughness of his beard tickled her skin and sent promising shivers down her spine, her body already anticipating where his touch might lead her.

“Cygnus?” Emma prompted, turning in his arms so she could look upon his face, see the satisfied smile and unruly hair and know that it was all her doing. Her own smile followed and she pushed herself up from his chest to greet him with a kiss, languid and warm. He tasted of her and his hand fit just right against her lower back, stroking soothing patterns with his fingers. Two unlikely puzzle pieces slotting together so perfectly. The Pirate and the–

“It’s a group of stars above this realm. You can see it so clearly in these parts.” He nodded towards the far side of the room where the window was and the stars beyond it. “There, can you see?” Through the wind-beaten cabin window, a cluster of lights shone back at her, a stark contrast to the canvas of black. She knew nothing of the stars but he told her anyway of the stories that predate the histories of all realms, the love and the loss and the pain they’ve suffered and yet, through it all, how they still manage to shine. He told her how it was his favourite, with heavy lids and a slow smile. How, whenever he saw it, he felt a little more at peace.

Emma let herself fall again into his arms, dragging him with her by the chain around his neck for a kiss that sent heat to all her most intimate parts. A boldness the had taken root in her, the nerves from earlier were nowhere to be found, and she revelled in it, taking advantage of the feeling while power still fizzled in the tips of her fingers. Killian let her roll him onto his back, sat astride his hips as she kissed him with a passion she’d always craved to possess. She only came up again for air, softly gasping as his smile against her lips sent her heart fluttering, pace as erratic as a rabbit escaping a fox.

“In the common tongue,” He said, quiet as a whisper, free hand making its way to pull out the braid in her hair, letting the blonde fall from its restraints and unfurl in a curtain around them. “Cygnus means Swan.”

She kissed him again.

And again.

Until the stars were no longer their witness and Emma left his bed with a soft smile, reluctant to leave but dreading the consequences if she stayed, as she laced herself back into her dress and made her way through the back streets, trailing in the dim morning shadows until she reached her home.

The Palace.

In the months between then and now, something changed. Whatever tied her to this earth before; her father, her mother, her people, her responsibilities, none of that matters now. She’s never felt more whole, more at home, than she does with him.

And that worries her.

He doesn’t even know who she is, not really. He knows her, body and soul, he knows his Swan with her love for seashells and the acquired taste of sweet rum, he knows she carries more secrets than she lets on and more than she could ever tell, but he doesn’t know Emma.

Princess Emma, sole heir to the Misthaven throne.

Future Queen.

No one does.

Between song and dance and kiss and touch, Emma had convinced herself that she was only Swan; that she was born of normal birth and had no ties to the crown, that the money lining her purse was from adventure and gambit rather than allowance, that the dresses cinched to her form were her best and not stolen from the maid’s quarters. In his arms, surrounded by a brand of adoration and care she’d never known before, she believed it too.

She can’t lie to him forever.

He shifts behind her and she turns to face him, to take him in, perhaps for the last time. His beard is longer, what once was trim to his face now developed into a thicker scruff streaked with grey and ginger, and his face glows with the kiss of summer sun, but it’s more than just that.

He’d shown her more of herself than she ever thought she could know.

He’d taught her to seek freedom and rebellion and excitement and love in all its many forms. He accepted her in rage and fury at the truth kept locked behind the prison of her teeth, bitten off before she can reveal it. He never pushed for her history, or how she knew so much about what occurred behind the palace walls, or how occasionally she’d hide behind his form when the King’s soldiers drank themself stupid on the shorefront, with kisses to her knuckles and a wisened smile saying only “when you’re ready, my Swan, I’m here.”.

She fell for him somewhere between their first kiss and now, slowly coming to the terrifying realisation that, her life would be bleaker without him in it. The docks would become the dirty, sullen place they were before his time here, the taverns sapped of their joy, the beach a place of driftwood and windburn.

And she would be alone.

No matter her company, loyal subject or bar rat alike, without him, there is an emptiness, unlike anything she’s ever felt. It’s overwhelming how she’s let herself become so dependent on the presence of another person in her life in such a short amount of time that, without them, she is destitute.

No.

She can, and will, survive his absence. She will come through it stronger and when he returns she will tell him her name.

Because now, with his sleeping face mere inches from her own, she is a child in a glass house preparing to throw a rock, willing the glass to not shatter and for her heart to not break. The confession is stone, jagged and true, and in her hand, it draws blood.

There are tear stains on her cheek when he opens his eyes. She pretends they’re not there, letting a smile fall into place while she’s greeted with the sleep-darkened blue that she’s come to look forward to every morning. She’ll miss them the most.

He smiles sadly at her, bringing a calloused thumb to wipe the wetness from her cheek with such reverence she could swear he was savouring it.

“Come with me.” It’s barely a whisper, carried on the borrowed breath between them but it hits Emma like a punch to the gut.

If she were anyone else, if she were just ‘Swan’ or ‘Leia’ or any of the countless personas she’d curated, there would be no doubt about her answer. His eyes are hopeful and honest and open and it breaks her heart to see how much he wants her to accept.

She can’t look at him directly, choosing instead to bury her face in his chest, the soft hair caressing her cheek, listening out for the comforting beat that lulled her to sleep many a time before. Tears come but they do not escape.

She has to be strong for this.

“I can’t.”

Quiet falls, as if not even the sea wants to disturb them, and Emma counts the seconds before he responds, his arms winding their way around her back and holding her there. She’d come to associate his embrace with good things, safety and protection and warmth and peace, and she wants to melt into it, forget about her responsibilities and agree to his request, setting sail by his side.

But she can’t.

Fifteen.

Fifteen seconds of silence.

“Swan–”

“Killian,” She pleads, unable to stop her voice from breaking. It’s too much. It’s all too much. “Please don’t, I won’t be able to say no again.”

The weight of the crown sits heavy on her head; a chain she can’t break, a burden that only she can carry.

Killian lets his fingers tangle in her hair, the same way he does before drifting off to sleep only now he’s wide awake and tense in a way that Emma wishes she could smooth out. She wants to kiss him and feel as the tension bleeds out of him with the pressure of her tongue.

But it’s too late for that now.

“I don’t know what keeps you here, lass,” He hums. She can’t see his face but she can hear his frown – a mix of concern, frustration and something else, something more. His lips press to her crown and her stomach flips at the feeling. “I wish I did. I don’t trust half the bastards in this kingdom.”

Emma leans up until she can meet his eyes, wearing a matching frown. “I can take care of myself.”

“And I don’t doubt that.” He laughs, and Emma wishes she could trap it in a conch shell and listen to it forever, light and carefree and hers. He kisses the crease from her brow and she lets him, leaning into it before pressing their foreheads together.

He loves her.

He loves her and she can see it in his eyes, how they’re creased with a smile but still fogged by sadness at the thought of distance between them.

“I think what I’m really trying to say is… I don’t want to be apart from you.” His lips are so close, slightly parted, his warm breath ghosting her own.

“And I you.”

The kiss itself is smouldering and inevitable, fire and passion and so much more. It burns away every modicum of doubt in her mind, everything that had tried to convince her against this man who held her as if she was someone to be cherished and celebrated.

She pushes everything she can into it, a goodbye passed between their tongues in a language no one else can speak.

Time passes as it does, each grain of sand in the hourglass bearing the weight of a thousand things left unsaid.

“My Swan,” He sighs, pulling away to bury his face in her hair, inhaling as if to commit her scent to memory. Emma does the same, breathing him in. “I will show you the world one day. That is a promise.”

“You’ll come back for me?” She asks, softly, shifting so she can see his face.

“Aye, Always.”

Emma has always been able to decipher lies, being such a compulsive liar herself, but there’s nothing short of the truth in his voice. Her heart hurts all over again.

“I’ll be back when solstice comes.” Her blood turns to ice at his words. Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year. Four months away.

If he comes during solstice, there will be no hiding. He’ll see her paraded through town, the prized jewel of the kingdom, and she doesn’t know how he’ll react to that.

“When I see you again,” Her voice begs to crack under the weight of her promise. She does not let it. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Now, that’s one way to guarantee a man’s return.” The chuckle catches her off guard, it’s short-lived as he brushes the stray hairs that managed to fall in front of her face so gently she barely feels it.

“And what’s the other?”

“I do believe we’re already quite familiar with that particular activity.”

She bats at his chest, only causing him to laugh more before he pulls her close again, any distance between them proving too much. “You really are a dirty old man.”

“I bathe quite frequently, thank you very much.” Raising an eyebrow in his typical fashion, he takes a sniff of his own underarm. She can’t help but laugh as he does so, peels of laughter cutting through the silence of the night.

It’s this that she’ll miss. The effortlessness of their relationship. There’s a piece of her in Killian Jones, it snuck beneath his skin while she wasn’t looking and now it lives there, staring back at her from his eyes, wearing his smile.

“I’ll miss you.” It’s out before she can stop it.

She watches the smirk die on his lips, replaced with only a sad smile. This is the oldest she’s seen him, ocean eyes dark and misty and filled with so much love she feels her own tears spring from where they lay dormant.

He shushes her sobs, in the safety of his arms.

“And I you, my Swan.”

There’s a shallow clink of metal before an unfamiliar weight falls to her chest. His chain, it’s pendant the thick iron ring that once belonged, as Killian put it, to a far better man than him, rests heavy between her breasts. In the starlight, it glints, the robust scarlet gem reflecting dull pink facets on her skin.

“Look after it for me.”

#itsfabianadocarmo #cssecretsanta19 #captain swan #cs fic #cs fanfic #ficminds #the swan that fell for the sea #merry christmas everyone!

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lapishasproblems · 5 years

Text

“You Two Can’t Be Serious.” (Post-reveal love square fic)

[PART ONE] Next Part>

Inspired by this idea by the genius @livanarose

Also, this is my first ever fanfic. I’ve written stories before, but they were original ideas. Lets hope this works. Enjoy :))

~~~

Alya stood by the front doors of the school, waiting for a certain blue-haired girl who is sure to come late yet again today. She looked around but can’t seem to spot her best friend anywhere. She tried calling millions of times. She tried texting her. Nothing.

The bell rang, and Alya sighed in defeat. She turned and headed for her class, not wanting to come late.

“Good mor...ning.”

Alya’s jaw quickly unhinged and the greeting stopped midway in her lips when she saw the same girl she was waiting for just outside calmly sitting on her seat, right next to—

OH NO

With her own eyes, Alya saw THE Marinette Dupain-Cheng sitting next to THE Adrien Agreste, talking, laughing, as if someone abducted Marinette and replaced her with a more confident double. Marinette was no longer the stuttering mess Alya knew in front of Adrien. She was indeed, sitting there, talking to Adrien, her crush, her crush, with no hints of flustering at all.

This was revolutionary.

Alya didn’t want to hurry the pair, so she stared in horror as Adrien moved closer, leaning in so close that their noses were almost touching. And Alya nearly lost it when Marinette, instead of melting into a puddle right then and there, placed her pointer finger on Adrien’s nose and pushed him away, giggling.

At this point, maybe Alya might turn into a puddle instead

She wanted to continue staring at this beautiful pair but Marinette caught sight of Alya by the door and pushed Adrien away, trying to keep a straight face, failing miserably. Adrien turned to look at what the girl was looking at and his eyes widened when he spotted the redhead by the door, trying hard not to laugh as well. Marinette smiled and said a few words before the model stood up to move to his seat.

Yes, but not before he casually kissed the girl’s cheek, making Marinette only a little red.

Only a little

Remember, this is Marinette Dupain-Cheng we’re talking about.

The baker’s daughter who breaks into a chorus of stammering and mumbling in front of the model who sits in front of her at school.

The sweet girl who turns beet red in front of the one and only Adrien Agreste.

The pretty girl in pigtails who swoons or sighs whenever she makes contact with the boy sitting in front of her in class, including being given—not given, mind you—lent Adrien’s game console for her to use during the video game tryouts.

Alya just wants to die.

From where she was standing, Alya eyed Nino, who was sitting in his usual seat, giving him a look that said ‘what the heck’ and Nino returned her look with another one that said ‘I have no fucking idea’

That said, Alya sucked all the information she received since the past minute and finally entered the classroom with a sunny and cheerful “Good morning,” to replace the one she failed at delivering when she saw the pair earlier, smiling, walking over to Marinette, taking her seat next to the girl.

“Good morning Alya.”

Alya kept her eyes on her best friend. “So, anything interesting I should know about?”

“Well—“

“Excuse me, I’d like to know too.”

Alya turned, finding a furious Nino staring daggers at the two girls sitting behind him. Adrien on the other hand, had turned around to listen.

Alya turned back to the other girl. “Make that the two of us, then.”

Marinette smiled and shrugged before finally letting the bomb drop.

“Well, Adrien and I...we’re dating.”

Alya choked.

Nino looked like someone just slapped him.

Adrien stifled a laugh.

The entire class seemed to be looking at their direction.

“You’re kidding.”

“She’s not,” Adrien answered quickly. “I know for a fact—“

“EXCUSE ME?”

The group turned to find an angered Chloe Bourgeois standing directly next to Marinette, her face completely red.

“This is RIDICULOUS! UTTERLY RIDICULOUS!” the mayor’s daughter yelled for the entire class to hear before turning to Marinette. “You must be using some sort of MAGIC on Adrikins!”

“No magic,” Marinette shrugged.

“UGH! I CANNOT BELIEVE THIS! I swear I will find out your tricks one of these days, DUPAIN-CHENG!”

And with that, Chloe stormed off, back to her seat where Sabrina is.

Alya’s gaze went back and forth between Marinette and Adrien, ignoring the drama. “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“Yeah, and since when?” Nino added.

“I—uhm...we—“

“Since last—uh, yesterday,” Adrien answered, just as panicked as Marinette was. He nodded. “Right after that akuma attack, wasn’t it?”

Alya couldn’t tell why, but Marinette immediately gave Adrien a death glare. The blonde flinched.

“Well, congratulations, you two,” Nino said, breaking the silence.

Marinette nodded, regaining her smile. “Thanks.”

Nino sighed a “finally” and received chuckles from his friends in return. The rest of the class mentioned their ‘congratulations’ and Alya swore she caught Rose swooning.

“We should go on a double date sometime,” Alya offered.

Adrien chuckled. “We’re not sure we’re up for that yet. I mean we just got—“

“Yep, yep, absolutely,” Marinette cut him off, a hint of pink forming on her cheeks. “A—A double date sounds nice.”

Adrien chuckled a little, shaking his head, glad that Marinette didn’t change too much, despite the event that took place a couple of weeks ago.

“Sweet!” Nino exclaimed.

Alya was about to answer again, but Ms. Bustier came trough the door with a bustling and energetic “Good morning,” that caught everyone’s attention. Both Marinette and Adrien turned to face their teacher, cutting Alya off of any access to more information.

Alright, she gets it. Marinette and Adrien were dating. It was bound to happen at some point and maybe this is finally the time. She, Nino, and the rest of the class knew it. But there was one last thing nagging at the back of her head. Something keeping her from focusing on her lessons.

How in the world did that girl go from being a red, stammering mess in front of Adrien to the confident girl Alya saw today?

I need to go lie down, Alya said to herself.

~~~

“So? How did I go?”

Marinette scoffed. “Oh please, you nearly busted our cover,” she said. “You nearly said we started dating last night after the akuma attack. If I do remember correctly, that akuma attack was pretty late, and no person in the right mind would ask someone out at that hour.”

Adrien looked over his shoulder to make sure the last of his classmates had gone home. Nino was no big deal as the DJ has to do something back at home, and Marinette had literally forced Alya out the door, letting her to go ahead. It was just him and Marinette now in the classroom and he desperately needed to ask her about how they would continue the plan.

“I asked you out at that hour. Maybe we are a little crazy, My Lady.”

Marinette rolled her eyes, trying hard not to giggle. “That’s an exception,” the girl said. “But you still nearly ruined our plan.”

“About that, I’m—“

“Sorry?” Marinette cuts him off, then chuckled. “Of course, you silly cat.”

Adrien smiled listening to her voice and staring at her bluebell eyes while she gathered her things and stored them in her backpack. It was something he’s never felt before, staring at Marinette for so long while his heart pounded so heard he can hear it in his head, making his palms wet with sweat and his stomach churn in a pleasant way.

Before last night, Adrien never saw Marinette this way. Maybe he did, a couple of times when she was Ladybug, but that was before he knew that a certain superheroine he was working with was also the girl who sat behind him in class. He always referred to her as his friend. After they found out, the confessions came, and those weeks were the worst. The boy couldn’t look at Marinette or Ladybug without a pang of guilt in his chest.

Last night was definitely something else.

Since the discovery a couple of weeks back, plus the confessions that followed, and the time the superhero duo needs to let the information settle in, Marinette and Adrien both agreed to mess a little with their friends, their parents, and maybe even Paris itself.

It was a fine night, just before they finish up patrol, and the awkwardness between the two finally subsided. They made time to talk about it, and were finally official. Chat Noir found the guts to ask which of them were dating. Was it Ladybug and Chat Noir, the superhero duo of Paris? Or Marinette and Adrien, a baker’s daughter and a model who goes to school together? Or was it Chat Noir and Marinette? Ladybug and Adrien?

Marinette wasn’t really into messing with people’s minds, but she thought that it was acceptable, as she and her partner have been saving Parisians here and there from akumas since who knows when. Being superheroes can be pretty tiring too, and this plan of hers and Chat’s might be the way to clear her head from everything.

That is, if she and her black-suited partner manage to carry out the plan flawlessly.

But she started to have doubts as Adrien nearly fluked their cover earlier today.

“So, what’s next?”

Marinette stared at the boy. “Seriously? Let the news sink in before we continue to the next phase.”

Adrien was lost in thought. “How do we let the news sink in?”

Marinette slung her bag on her shoulder. “Well, we told everyone in class and I’m sure that word is going to spread by tomorrow.”

“We definitely got the school covered,” Adrien said. “What next?”

Marinette thought for a while, and so did Adrien.

“You know what?” Marinette asked.

“What?”

“We should go tell my parents—“

“No, my dad goes first.”

The girl scrunched her eyebrows. “What? Why?”

“Well, if my dad knows, soon the media will know,” Adrien said, standing up from his seat. “Imagine the headline news in bold. ‘Model Adrien Agreste’s new girlfriend’. Then we can hide you from the public or disguise you so that everyone will go nuts trying to find out who this girl is.”

Marinette’s lips formed an ‘o’, her eyes widening. “Oh my God, you’re a genius!“

“I mean these people have been too focused on trying to find out who Ladybug and Chat Noir are behind the masks. If you ask me, these heroes need rest too, don’t you think, My Lady?” continued Adrien, winking at her. “These Parisians are up for sooo much excitement.”

Marinette grinned at the boy standing in front of her, now showing her his rather laid-back attitude instead of the flawless designer’s son act he had to put up with during school and any other time during the day when the boy was just Adrien Agreste, another Parisian. After the reveal, she realized that Chat was nothing like Adrien despite the fact that they were he same person, because it was his way to drop the act he’s been pulling when he was his civillian self.

“Bug.”

“Uh, Yeah. Sorry, what were you saying?”

Adrien completely dropped the ‘Adrien’ side of him and went full on Chat Noir mode, leaning on Marinette’s table, bringing his face closer to hers. A grin spread on his face. “You were staring.”

If this was Marinette in control, maybe the girl would’ve melted into jello right that second, but if Adrien can drop his ‘Adrien’ attitude in exchange for his ‘Chat Noir’ one, then Marinette can too.

Instead of pulling away, she leaned even closer, making their nose inches from the other.

“Yeah. Problem?”

Oh shoot, Adrien thought.

He can already feel the heat creeping up from his neck to his cheek, but it didn’t stop there. It went on and on and finally reached his ears. He was trying really hard to regain control, but at that exact moment, the blonde realized that Marinette’s eyes was his soft spot. They were so close, those eyes were the only thing he could focus on.

After what seemed like an eternity, the girl pulled away. “Anyway, should we go now? It’s getting late.”

Marinette stood up while Adrien shook himself off of that daze.

“Come on, we have people to mess with.”

~~~

Phew, that was pretty long. I have no idea how many words this part consists of but I do hope you enjoyed it. Should I make a part two? And please, leave your advices and feedback. I’d love to hear from everyone.

Thank you :))

#mlb #miraculous #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #love square #ladynoir #adrienette #ladrien #marichat #post reveal love square #post reveal ladynoir #post reveal adrienette #post reveal marichat #post reveal ladrien #you two cant be serious

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lindoig7 · 4 years

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Tuesday-Friday, 25-28 August

Tuesday

We awoke carrying a few aches and pains from yesterday’s exertions, so we relaxed over some very simple killer Sudokus – we finished our previous book yesterday so started a new one today and the first few are VERY simple.

It was still raining on and off – more off than on – so we stayed in the van virtually all day. We sorted and edited photos and wrote for our blogs all morning and watched a movie in the afternoon – Legends of the Fall. It was quite good, if a little depressing.

After I cooked a more than acceptable steak and added it to Heather’s veges brilliantly cooked inside, we ate dinner and then played dominos while waiting for the HWS to heat enough water to do the dishes. We usually turn the HWS off during the day to save gas (and the noise the heater makes) and had forgotten to turn it back on in the late afternoon.

We then started a new series of DVDs – just the first episode of True Detective. It is too early to tell if we will like it, but it is set in the US. For some reason, I thought it was set in the UK when we bought the series a couple of weeks ago.

Wednesday

We were still a bit fragile this morning so had another easy morning in the van. We had intended doing the laundry, but opted instead for a quiet morning catching up on a few items of business, looking at photos and relaxing. It was mostly sunny but still felt cold so we ran our heater almost all day again.

During the afternoon, we went for a pleasant drive before hitting the supermarket and booze shop again. We mostly shop at Woolies, but I needed beer and have become quite partial to a cheapie made specifically for Liquorland. It is called Steamrail Pale Ale and given my penchant for the romance, noise and smells of steam trains (and the fact that I drove one about 30 km as an 11- or 12-year-old kid), it seems appropriate to add the taste of Steam(rail) to my list of pleasures. We shopped at Coles, but they didn’t have everything we wanted and Liquorland didn’t have Heather’s favourite cider, so we finished the groceries at Woolies and the booze at BWS after all.

Our drive was originally planned for Noojee, but we saw a turnoff to the Tarago Reservoir and detoured to that. It was a delightful drive, especially the last couple of clicks to the reservoir itself – big trees, winding track through pastures, quaint farms and outbuildings – very cute. We had a short walk around the sprawling picnic area (where all forms of picnics or social gatherings are absolutely forbidden) but access to the dam and its water is securely fenced off. Instead of returning to the main road and Noojee, we continued on the Tarago road through picturesque Jindivik and meandered via lesser roads back to Warragul.

Thursday

It looks like being fine most of today, but with a wickedly wild, wild wind. It is howling around, rattling the whole caravan and battering the awning even though it is in the lee of the van. A great day to get the washing dry and it was definitely laundry day for us – but Heather used the dryer in the laundry and everything was dry in the time it would have taken to peg things on the line (and retrieve the things that would inevitably have blown away!).

I had a few little maintenance things to do, including trying to secure the awning a little more rigidly. As I said, the wind has been quite ferocious here today, particularly in the afternoon, and the whole caravan is constantly buffeted and bombarded with the shriek of the wind and the crashing of the awning.

We went out for a walk in the afternoon, just a kilometre or two around the circuit behind the van, but it was quite hard work heading into the teeth of the gale. It is a few days since we did the loop out there and it is amazing how much difference such a short time makes. There are many more flowers out (mainly our beloved Flinder-bells, aka onion weed) but so many trees and shrubs are now in bud, the willows are covered with long trailing green ribbons, all looking very lacy and delicate, and even the scrawny little stick just outside the van is developing its mantle of beautiful white blossom. We hadn’t noticed any of this before, but it seemed quite obvious today that the season is definitely changing – even if the weather still shows little hint if spring (other than its traditional winds).

It is getting very hard to post anything to my blog at present. The Wi-Fi in the park is very weak and frustrating. I can get very slow access most days until about lunchtime, but still with lots of delays and drop-outs. After lunch, I can never access it at all. I managed to post a few things today by transferring some text and photos from my PC to a Sandisk USB stick, then using Bluetooth to drop that into my iPad Camera Roll, and composing and posting that to my blog using my tethered iPhone as a hotspot. It’s a slow and laborious process with too many steps and stages where I can get things wrong. The Tumblr app is by no means intuitive – and is a bit different on either my iPhone or iPad – so the whole process is fraught! I will just have to keep persevering – or get up early enough to post things from my PC in the morning.

We went down to the ablution block for our showers just before 5 pm with some mountainous livid clouds threatening – and it is a good job we never left it any later. Heather got back in time, but I had gone down a few minutes after her and had to jog back to the van in the first of some sprinkles foreboding a very heavy downpour that hit just as I reached the awning. Another 30 seconds and I would have had two showers for the day.

Within an hour, all Hell broke loose. The wind went absolutely wild. It shrieked through the adjacent trees and the awning on the van next to us was reduced to a twisted pile of scrap within minutes. Ours disconnected from its struts a couple of times but we went out quickly and rescued it before any damage occurred. We could hardly hear each other for the noise, and the poor screeching Corellas and Galahs in the trees were being blown off their perches. The rain bucketed down and the lights flickered on and off for several minutes. If any of the trees behind the van had fallen our way, the van would have been completely crushed. Fortunately, the prevailing winds all pass our van on their way to the trees. It was all very exciting, if more than a little disconcerting. It rained/poured on and off until about midnight or a bit after, but the wind kept lashing the van until about 5 am. Next morning there were numerous branches down around the park, but the extent of the damage elsewhere became obvious during our excursion later in the day.

I have experienced some amazing winds in caravans. I recall many (many) years ago, I was in an onsite van in Busselton (Western Australia) which is not so far from the Cape Leeuwin weather station and we heard that the anemometer wound off its stanchion at about 190 kph. We awoke to 20 cm of water throughout the park, but being so sandy, it was all gone within a couple of hours. Much more recently, we were at Camperdown in our previous little van and it was so wild that I had to park the car across the van to shield it from the worst of it as well as chocking the wheels and tying it down. And at Tibooburra a few years ago, we were the only van in the park and drove out to Cameron Corner for the day without any inkling of an impending storm – but came back in the afternoon to find all the components of the awning distributed around the park. Fortunately, nothing was broken and we were able to reconstruct it well enough to continue on our way. We sat out a wild cyclone in the Kuril Islands a few years ago and Heather drew attention to another exciting storm event the first time we approached Inexpressible Island in Antarctica (NEITHER of these were in our caravan) but I still think Thursday’s little puff was about as violent as I can remember – perhaps because we were so close to the trees and the cacophony they generated.

Despite the drama of the storm, Heather made the most wonderful meal using our new double-sided frying pan/mini-oven. We had bought a boned leg of lamb and she marinated it for almost a day with a great concoction of herbs and spices (in lots of yoghurt). Cooking it in the pan with lots of chopped onion resulted in the most amazing rich, caramellised, delicious feast you could imagine. It really was fantastic and we have enjoyed the leftovers in 3 meals since. Superb!!!

Friday

A really great day today. We headed south to the coast, but you should have seen the trees on the way that had been brought down overnight. We saw maybe 20 or so giants and hundreds of smaller trees as well as thousands of branches, twigs and metres of bark stripped from the vegetation. We had to drive around dozens of branches and small trees on the road, but the really big ones blocking the whole road were already being removed. Council and SES crews were hard at work, along with local farmers who were cutting up the logs and repairing broken fences and other damage. I don’t suppose this was hugely unusual for them, but for (sort of) city slickers to see so many mammoth trees that had been guarding the road for centuries laying on the ground with their roots splayed to the heavens was pretty amazing. It reminded us how lucky we were not to have been in the way of the giants that could have demolished our caravan had we been in the path of one.

We went down through Korumburra and Leongatha to Tarwin South and hence to Tarwin Meadows – only to find that it was private property and we almost ended up in their front yard. We back-tracked and followed a lovely quiet road to the Cape Liptrap Lighthouse. It was a wonderful short walk to the light-tower itself and we enjoyed some magnificent views and saw some lovely little birds (and some quite a bit bigger). The coast was still pretty wild after the storm but we kept ourselves safe, well away from the fury, at the top of the cliffs. We had a bit of fun playing the calls of the Brown Thornbills on our birding app. There were quite a few around and several came out to say good mornig to us as well. Don’t usually do this, but we were trying to confirm their identity using the app and next moment they were reacting with us.

We followed the coast as close as we could and ate our lunch at Walkerville North whilst watching the sea-birds (and a dog harassing them) before going on to Waratah Bay. We walked along the beach and saw millions of tiny sand-balls created by the little crabs that had burrowed down while the tide was out. There were quite a few pretty shells, all broken, and hundreds of small smooth stones of almost every colour and pattern. The beach was very flat and very wide, at least 150 metres wide I reckon, but the tide was coming in and although we watched it for a while, I guess the entire beach would have been reclaimed by King Neptune within half an hour or so.

We tried to get to Shallow Inlet but were again thwarted by the National Park closure. We had tried to get in from the east a week or so ago without success and coming from the west didn’t make it any more doable. It simply doesn’t make sense to close so many parks and reserves because of Covid. Every National and State park is locked up for no conceivable reason. They would be the safest places around! Sure, Melbourne people aren’t allowed to travel, but there is much more freedom throughout the rest of the State but government/s have chosen to punish the rest of the country despite there being absolutely zero risk. Many of the rules are simply moronic. There is no possible policy reason for them and the only other interpretation I can put on this stupidity is that the rules are set with only vindictiveness in mind.

We were able to go to nearby Sandy Point - and when we reached the end of the road, we simply drove straight onto the beach. We weren’t the only car on the beach and it was obvious from the many tyre tracks that driving on the beach was normal. We drove half a kilometre or so along to where there was a sign indicating that driving beyond that point was not allowed, but it was a bit of fun and enabled up to get some good views of the shore-birds. We saw about 15 Eastern Curlews – not that common in our experience – and a couple of hundred Red-capped Plovers – a lot more than all I have seen in my lifetime. It was a great opportunity for a few photos and a bit of a novelty to drive on the hard-packed sand. The whole area was wonderfully quiet and peaceful and quite beautiful!

We dilly-dallied there for a while and then drove home via Meeniyan, Mirboo North and Trafalgar with the last leg in particular being through really beautiful country.

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reneeswing · 4 years

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The Joy, The Ridicule and The Hope

Let's rewind: what are the top three advices that have been given to us about COVID-19 prevention: wash your hand, observe social distance and take care of each other. Does that ring the bell that we have learnt all three things since we are in elementary school, if we are ever lucky enough to go to one.

So, I am going to make a bold statement here: most of the life-long lessons that we need for going through life, we’ve learnt them way before advanced educations, regardless of differences in culture, race and geographic locations. Yet, the sad truth is we only seem to spend the remainder of our time forgetting all we have learnt and all we need to remember to overcome this conundrum. If I dig a bit deeper, my basic education have equiped me with way more useful knowledge than what business school and law school have ever tought me. To name a few, geography helps me to navigate through the continents without being laughed at, history and literature offer me perspectives to see and comprehend everything ever happened in this time and this world. Law school and business school, on the other hand, slowly coop up people into a disillusion of elite class, distancing them from what’s actually going on in this insanely biased reality. Don’t get me wrong, I still believe every opportunity of education matters, it emancipates and liberates generations; and if anything, I have been blessed with all sort of way of thinking, coming from each stage of my school years. It is the monotonous perception on education that sometimes misinterprets or overly simplifies its true essence.

Do anyone begin to appreciate the down time of this quanrantine yet? I am not saying this to trivialize the dismal impact of the pandemic; because both our economic and social lives have taken a major toll from this crisis. For those who are alone in this quarantine, they are craving for human contact, the touch, the hug, all the more basic need of being a human; whereas for those who have a full house with multiple children at home, the working day never ends as it is combined with home schooling. This makes people finally realize that their job is their ultimate refuge. One of my friends started to refer to her kids as fantastic beasts, since the third week of the lockdown. This is, in my opinion, one of the best metaphors of the year. Now, this is what I hope: when all this is over, we will eventually appreciate more of our teachers and other educational workers. for us, it is only with our own kids, whereas at school, kids are ganged up on them. They are entitled to fairer reward and respect from all walks of the society.

Like others, my emotion has gone through various stages: at first, I was fairly content with what I’ve got here, a cozy home, abundant toilet rolls and sufficient supply of alcoholic grape juice. Then some kind of obsession started to develop, the bad kind is to slowly transform healthy self-reflection into self-condemnation for something I have done wrong 2,3,5 years ago. And the more time I spent on my devices, the higher level of anxiety incubated. Then, later on, I decided to have a rather lengthy conversation with myself, the righteous thing that I have ever done: committing to my own feelings, compelling myself away from judgement. I learnt to acknowledge them, more importantly, I searched for language and specific words to label them in all the more precise way. Through that exercise, I realized although they appear similarly, the emotion of anxiety is very different from that of sadness; and the exhileration that I was feeling is also different from excitement. When I found out I was able to distinguish those various emotions in me, I felt stress level has already half way gone, I could call the truce with myself. So, something good does come out from this period. When we are not able to go out, we should allow ourselves to go within.

There are a lot more silver linings. To my recollection over the past 8 years, I don’t rememer any of the Dutch springs is as beautiful as this one. We’ve had sunny and warm weather throughout the month of April. Everyday, I went onto my balcony, let the light beam through my forehead and inhale the most precious fresh air. It is painful to face it that our continents are receding to isolated islands as all the traffics are shut down, but it is also delightful to find that nature thrives when human society hits the PAUSE button. The blue sky is returned to the birds and their flapping wings; waterways turn purer as no more crazy human running around and emitting pollution into them. Even panda’s resume consummation. For the last 2,3 years, anthropogenic activities have caused large scale bushfires across north and south hemispheres; it happened even in Syberia above the North Pole. Human society is inflicting pains onto the lung of our Mother Earth. Isn’t it an irony that our respiratory system is succumbed to this coronavirus? I couldn’t help but wonder if this pandemic is the nature’s vengeance onto the arrogance of human race? So, here comes my second wish. One day as we come out of this pandemic, our peaceful moments with the nature will stick around a bit longer. Even though I know that humanity is terrible at reckoning with it own sin, I still wish this time, after all we have endured, we will finally learn to return the favour for our Mother Nature’s altruistic love. That we will be more reflective on our own behaviours, the impact that each of us have made onto anything outside of ourselves. You may say I am a dreamer, but I am definitely not and should not be the only one.

......

The world is suffering from its own bipolar disorder. To steer my way clear from the menaces, I rid myself of watching news during the weekends. But one still doesn't make the cut. As for a while, it is the only thing that people couldn't stop talking about: Donald Trump contemplates injecting/ingesting coronavirus patients with disinfectants, until the moment he made the next obnoxious statement. What's even more troubling is there was actually a slight increasing number of ER cases caused by internal administration of chemical solvent. Both New York Times and RB, the producer of Lysol and Dettol, had to make official announcement to talk people out of their desperate craze. One day I woke up and spit out this question: how is it even possibly happening? If B school has ever taught me anything, it is that leadership matters; and I dedicated most of my career contemplating how to be a good (future) leader. But nowadays, we are riding a perfect storm, while sinking down into a chasm called: the scum rises to the top. We are living in a reality that outruns the most ridiculous screenwriting of political drama. Not only have we got Trump assumed the most powerful position in this world, we don't seem capable of appropriating any countermeasures to dampen the damages. Although his strategy is nothing much different from that of a shameless politician: barking up the wrong trees to divert the public's attention further away from criticism against him, the impact however is way too profound to be left alone. He is dividing not only a country, also driving a wedge between friendly countries, when the only hope the world is left with is the hope of solidarity.

The world is in urgent need of an assertive voice with a kind heart and a pair of potent hands. It cannot be done by one person, rather, has to be a collective conscience of all the human societies. The younger generation does not believe in institutions, they embrace anarchistic believes and have little problem of taking things to its extremity; but in the meantime, they are reasonable, way more objective and fairer than they are being judged or even portrayed. They believe in gender equality, inform themselves of cultural intricacy and they gather to rally for animal rights and climate change. For both reasons, their world needs leaders with integrity and convincing voices. In all appropriate times, we need to learn to be a leader for ourselves and for others. It is up to us how we are going to make our next decision, in giving an opinion, in executing right to vote, in influencing people around us and in doing smallest good deeds to hold onto each other. Here's an example. It is no strange thing to know that our doctors and nurses are working under tremendous physical and mental pressures. We've heard multiple cases in Italy and the US that medical staff committed suicide after virus contraction or nervous breakdown. In almost every country, people are finding ways to demonstrate their gratitude to their guardian angels; however news from India reads that doctors and nurses become target of discrimination, demonising them as virus itself. Similar discriminatory stories surface from time to time around the world against people from other countries or communities because of the pandemic. This shows how far off people could be dangerously biased and misled; the absence of a just and empathetic figure in the leadership attributes to and to a great extent severs the alienation. But we all could and should choose to lead. We can never let our guard down, ignoring any appalling ignorance, even with the slightest carelessness. We need to speak up, protect people who are protecting us and the world's most vulnerable's. We need to do it constantly, consistently and often enough. Bear in mind, our decision and undertaking of today will define our tomorrow in common.

......

Alright, enough about the grim prospect and grievance. As far as being a hopeless optimist, I will complement my third wish with a faith in humanity after it all. Yesterday, I watched the season finale of Westworld. As Dolores sank down into her memory, she restated: "Some people choose to see the ugliness in this world. The disarray. I choose to see the beauty". I agree with every bit of those words. I believe the key to the sublime lies in ourselves and our conscience. In the end, true bravery is to love the world and humanity, despite the ugliness that we have seen or experienced.

Before I let you go, I am inviting you to join me in paying tributes to all the essential workers who are risking their lives every day to keep ours running without panics. Next to our lovely doctors and nurses, here's to the infrastructure workers, the train conductors and bus drivers, the supermarkets' staff, the logistics companies, the mailman, (especially my mailman, who brings me my 1,000 packages to fill the huge void in my soul), the journalists and newsmen, who are running all across the countries, strive to bring us brutal facts, inconvenient truths, disarray and hopes. Collectively you've prevented the world from crumpling, after the mess we made. I thank you for that!

Please take care and stay healthy!

Love, R

#stories

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mythigal1966 · 5 years

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1. How do your ocs react when they hear a storm is on the way?1a. How significant does a storm have to be for your oc to pay attention to it?2. Which oc has slept through a major weather event?3. What is your oc’s favorite type of weather? ( basically all the questions for Dria lol )

1) It really depends on the king of storm. Dria kind of likes thunderstorms, she likes the drama. But if it turned into a tornado, she would run around gathering supplies and Dickens and retreat to a tornado safe area. Dria grew up in the American midwest, and while she didn’t live in tornado alley, she had enough experience with them to be very concerned. A hurricane would cause more anxiety, as she has no experience with them. A snowstorm would cause her to make sure she had enough supplies to survive being confined to her apartment for several days. A blizzard would mean she would head to the Home Depot to buy an emergency generator and a space heater.

2) Dria has never slept through a major weather event.

3) She generally likes sunny days the best, especially in the fall and winter. And she has been known to sit in front of her window and watch lightning during thunderstorms.

#OC Dria headcanon #monstruomuses

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sweetbutssour-blog · 5 years

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The Story Of a Tomboy

Ahh! The typical tomboy word!

Yes I am a tomboy and It is less acceptable and applaud able. If being bold and loud in public makes a girl a tomboy then we are happy being called, if sitting anywhere around makes you a tomboy then cheers to our community, if raising your voice against makes you “not a girl” then we are the happiest, If chilling yourself enough and making your own soul happy out of people’s comfort makes you a not so girly girl then aren't we need a shout out!

26 July 1995,the day when Ishita was born. Screamers everywhere because one more girl in the family! There were 2 sisters already Ritika and Nancy. Strange…. Her grandmother was surely not the happy creep. Her grandmother even tried to come in front of the truck so that she could die and never see her face. All these dramas were happening just for a female child and it’s not only about a baby girl but the money they would have to spend on her wedding. Is it worth? Firstly these stereotype people forced couples to keep reproducing since they get a baby boy and that is too for a business purpose called “dowry” and keep doing so called “sex-selective abortion”. Yes, after all these dramas and orthodoxies she was born. She feels beautiful today but her childhood was not so beautiful. People roaming always tells her “awww itti sundar nahi hai, sawali hai, ek to ladki upar se saawali, ladka bahut mushkil se milega” Are we girls born just to marry? Today she doesn’t think so but at her childhood being called ugly and ‘kaali’ bothered her like hard! She used to cry in most of the family functions or else and there a tomboy or a lonely girl’s journey started! It’s not like a tomboy is a born tomboy but yes when people could not make you happy, somewhere happiness finds its way. And maybe that is the reason she found her happiness inside, inside her soul. Today when she hangs out with her own company people used to ask how you go alone. Don’t you find weird eating and roaming alone! And she tells people that she loves her company and yeah that’s it. Her childhood was a roller coaster for her. It’s not like she was not loved by her parents but she was the ignorance. A normal 4 year kid got insane feelings of being ignorant and she thought that if she gets a brother her family will start loving her and start pampering her and she start praying to god to give her a brother. Think!! A 4 year kid is praying to have a baby!! What kind of sea storm was going into her heart, only she could know and nobody else. And yes she got a brother when she was 5. She was the happiest girl of the house. Her grandparents were so happy, everyone was so happy that “ghar ka chirag” aa gaya. Her family managed a function of his brother’s homecoming. She was also enjoying her fullest but only before the banquet.

She was sitting with her siblings and cousins at banquet and was waiting for more puris, her aunt came with 2 puris in her hand and she gave both the puris to her cousin and said “tm kam khao, ladkio ko kam khana chahie”. Her 5 year heart got stuck for a while and all her happiness shushh.(she becomes numb) She had thought that she will get attention after having a brother(she thought she would become the lucky charm of her home). But with her eyes full of tears and hunger stomach she took her empty plate and went to the corner and started licking the plate..(sobbing) after licking the plate she threw that into dustbin and goes to bathroom to wash her eyes and there she cried like nobody else.

‘I mean just imagine a 5 year girl with so much maturity.’

After washing her face and swollen eyes she went out of the bathroom and saw her cousins playing hide and seek and yes she got a smile there, a million dollar smile. J

She doesn’t care about the world and her feelings she just went with the flow and ran to her cousins to play. They were playing and running and shouting and so she. But suddenly one of her cousin started shouting “snake snake snake bhaagooo…” every of her cousins and her started running so that they would escape, as everyone was elder than her so they escaped but she hit herself hard on her head with an iron gate of her terrace. She was blood and almost fainted, her sister took her down and she gets hospitalized for a night. And the new morning was happy for her because of the attention she gets the last night which took butterflies in her stomach. All her sadness of yesterday gone with the hospitality. She was bought home and with a smile. She was the happy soul now. That day went anyhow happy for her.

But the night!!

Terrific!!

When in the night she steps out of a bed to drink water but suddenly she saw the lights were opened of her parent’s room and went towards the room to see what is happening and next what she saw, she felt to have the rug swept from under her feet.

“usko orphanage pe de aoo…hum ek paisa nahi denge uske lie..” her grandfather said with an anger.

“Hmmmmm…” her grandmother said.

“lekin wo meri beti hai..hmne pala hai use..or wo abi bas 5 saal ki h..” my father replied!

Hearing this she understood the scenario. She comes to know the reality that those people were talking about her! She ran back to her room and abruptly closes the door but silently.. The whole night she kept sobbing and thinking about her life that why she is even alive when nobody loves her. That was like a nightmare of her which she never wants to see.

Anyhow she slept but sobbing.

It was 7’o clock of the morning when she woke up, she found her eyes were swollen and her head was bombing like never. But she didn’t told this to anybody and went for a bath. She gets herself ready for school, packed her bag, does her hair and left for school. She even does not waited for her school bus and her lunch box, water bottle. And nobody cared too because of her new brother.

Nobody knows what was going inside her. But Ishita knew everything. She went to her school to meet her friends for the last time. She told nothing to anyone. Everything was going inside her soul but nothing came out or she doesn’t let anything to come out.

‘Tan tan tan tan tann…’ bell rang!

School was over. Her friends ran to their home. But she kept sitting on her bench. She waited for everyone to go! So that nobody know where she has gone.

It was 2 p.m. Almost 2 hours after her school got over. Peon came to check the classes and he found her in one of them.

“what are you doing here my girl?” Peon asked.

“Nothing chacha. My mom will come to take me in a minute.” She replied with a smile.

“chalo mai chalta hu beta tab. Aap chle jana.” He said.

“bye chacha” she replied..

Peon left the school. Now she was the only in the school. After minutes of her thinking she stood up! Picked up her bag and wiped off her tears. She left of the school.

She was walking on the road. She was watching the people on the road. She wanted to eat gola but she did not because she had only 50 rupees and she was saving that money for her future. In between her way she saw a girl with her grandparents in a park and they were playing football. She got tears in her eyes and a smile on her face. She stood there for a while watching them. Only she does know the pleasure of the scenario. She moved forward. Now she was at her destination..!! a nightmare destination..

“SHANTI ORPHANAGE” the board read.

A little girl decided to go orphanage to live. (Exclaimed)

Ahhhh!! Who knows the pain! Who understand the storms inside! No one.. (universe replied)

She went inside the orphanage and asked one of the lady..

“mujhe yha pe rahna hai, please mujhe aap rakh loge apne paas?” Ishita asked with her cute voice.

“aap kon ho bache? Yaha pe kaise aae?” lady replied.

“mai Ishita. I am a girl.” She replied.

“akele ho?” lady asked.

“ummm!” she replied with her eyes and head down.

“Come I will show your room” lady said with a smile. J

She (Ishita) smiled back. J

She went to see the room. See liked her room. She put her school bag on a bed there and came out to see the ground. Many more children were there playing. She saw a boy sitting in a corner. The boy was 7. She went to him.

“Hey hi.” She said

“A sweet roar” via boy.

Ishita smiled at him and sat beside him. They both kept sitting late night, without uttering a word to each other. They feel connected somehow.

Caretaker came, she saw them sitting there alone, she went to them and asked:

“Why you both are here at this time?” lady asked.

Both the children said nothing and leave for their room.

Lady gets jumbled. But she goes back to her work.

The bright sunny morning was waiting for the orphanage children for something new and very exciting. It was 8 of the morning when children were supposed to gather in the ground for a morning prayer.

Ishita got late. She was running to the ground and when she got up there she saw that boy saved a place for her. She saw this and smiled. She went there and stood. Everyone did the prayer. After this session children ran towards the mess to have their breakfast so the boy. Ishita shouted Ishaaaan!!!!!

Ishaan looked back with shock. ( Ishaan was the same boy)

“How do you know my name?” Ishaan asked.

“I saw that on your batch” Ishita replied.

“hmm” Ishaan replied.

“Yeah, thank you.” Ishita replied.

Ishaan shook his head and went to the mess. (this small age was behaving so mature as 21.)

At Ishita’s home-

Her parents were worried and filed a report of her missing, police was into the house, asking for some proof or something about her to find her out.

“sii hi hua ki chali gai..bala tali..” said her grandmother.

“maa!!” (with anger) her father said.

“kya? Did I say something wrong? Truth is the truth..one day you will agree to.” Grandmother replied.

Pin drop silence…

No one was saying anything.

Police was finding her but they couldn’t.

Whole family had left all the hopes.

After 2 to 3 Days they started living as they were.

Thus her chapter for the family was over.

The morning breakfast was over. It was 26th of July and it was Ishita’s birthday. But nobody knows that it’s her day neither she remembered.

Orphanage had rules that there would be a morning prayer,breakfast and study. Then in the afternoon at 2’o clock they were set to be free. But in their free time also they have to take care of the orphanage home like they have to clean the areas as decided, planting, watering, etc.

Thus after their study time some children were planting and others cleaning the ground. So Ishita. She was watering as she was only 6 thus she couldn’t do much. The 6 year old girl gets shocked when she saw the orphanage children shouted happy birthday Ishita..! she was amazed about how they came to know this..and all the credit goes to Ishaan. Ishaan was the boy who seek into her stuff her notebook and then he comes to know. Ishita was so happy. Nobody ever makes her feel so special specially on her birthday. She got tears in her eyes. Staff arranges cake for her special day. It was the best birthday of Ishita till. Everybody wished her, they cut the cake together, sang a song for her. Ishita was so happy. She slept that day with so much peace and happiness. Thus the day ended with a good note.

Year- 2011

16 years, it was a long time, Ishita becomes beautiful inside out, she have had a good body shape, long black- brown hairs, black eyes, curves, and a brown color of her body was an addition to her beauty. And now the same boy Ishaan became his best friend cum family. In these 10 years being with Ishaan, Ishita started behaving the same as Ishaan. She was in her way of the “tomboy”. And she kinda liked that. Every children of the orphanage used to come to Ishita if they seem themselves into trouble. Ishita was the solution of all their problems. She never behaved like those typical girly girls. She was her kind of beautiful. Makeup and all was not her kind of stuffs.

Ishaan and Ishita became the master of the orphanage. They roam the entire place together and inspect others.

One night Ishaan and Ishita were sitting on the top of the terrace and talking about their life. They both were telling each other about them when they were a kid. Ishita told about her to Ishaan. Ishaan gave sympathy to her.

“what about you?” Ishita asked to Ishaan.

“I don’t have parents.” ( with painful voice) Ishaan replied.

“Oh! I am so sorry.” (with regrets) Ishita replied.

They both hugged !! all pain just wooshh away with their presence for each other.

It was rain next morning. Ishita’s clothes got wet. She had had not a cloth to wear. Thus she went to Ishaan’s room to borrow one!

“ give me that denim pant and a white t-shirt” Ishita said.

“ no, I am going to wear them today. You wear something else.” Ishaan replied.

“ No way, you wear something else, those are my favorites and I will wear them.” Ishita screamed.

Ishaan took the clothes and ran, Ishita followed him. They both were running all over for those clothes. Lastly Ishaan have to give up! And Ishita got those clothes! And she wore them.

Time slips..and it was the time when they both have to leave the orphanage. Ishaan got selected for his engineering studies to one of the top NIT College of the country, and Ishita got selected for her management course to Dehradun. They both got separated. They were not happy. They do not wanted to leave each other. They thought no one could understand them as they both do to each other. But nothing could be done to the situation. They both have to be separated for their future. They both hugged each other for the time and leave for the journey.

Boo…boo…boo…

Loser…

Loser...

Loser…

Ishita was welcomed like this in her new college. She was scared watching this into the college. She abruptly went into her room and shut the door and sat on a bed and started taking long and fast breath. She never experienced this before. Her mates were always the sweetest to her. But this scared her like inside, deep inside.

After an hour she stood up, gets her stuffs done properly and came out of the room with lots of strength. People were there outside her room (maybe waiting for her to come out!) and the moment she came out of her room….!!

Colors, eggs and laugh were the only things she can see or hear. That is what people gave her at the first day of her college. She ran back to her room and shut the door instantly. She burst into tears in her room and shattered and there a phone rang flashing her strength her happiness “Ishaan”. She picked his call and acted like nothing happened but best friend is a best friend he just came to know that she is having trouble but said nothing and made her laugh instead.

Sigh.!!

The day ends however. She was afraid to get her out of a room but bundling courage somehow she came out and went to the class. There, the real journey started.

That was her first semester result and she ranked second. People came to her, congratulated her, greeted her. This was the first time when people wanted to make her friend and she kind of enjoying it.

(AFTER 2 YEARS)

She managed to open her restaurant in Greater Noida and her best friend was there with her to celebrate this auspicious success with a glass of red wine.

And this is how a tomboy’s journey became an entrepreneur’s journey. Only expressions of love, congratulations and admiration were into the air.

#inresemblencetomylife mystory lovetoall girls tomboy feminists feminism femiist follow followformore

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kpopscenariosblog · 6 years

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A past in the nile: Part 1

Jungkook x Reader

Ancient Egypt au, mystery au, Fantasy au

Word count: 1,591

Summary: Fresh out of high school you go on a trip to Egypt with your friend just to witness an ancient corpse be brought back to life.

1| 2 | 3 |

The crew that you were packed up with had decided to station outside of one of many tombs that surrounded the area in which you were located. You were to be camping out here until tomorrow or the day after, seeing as to how there was a bunch more to do before you guys left. Although this was not your area of expertise, being fresh out of high school and soon to be starting college, you ended up here with your close friend Jimin who was invited on this trip by his friend, jin, who was an archeologist.

Jimin perched himself next to you extending his arm out to offer a bottle of water, to which you accepted gladly, taking big gulps and not placing the the bottle of warm liquid down until it was less than half-way full.

“Hey do you wanna go look into one last tomb before we head off to get some shut eye?” He asked wearing a wide yet soft grin

You were convinced to reject his offer, but who could resist the smile of Park jimin? Definitely not you and so you nodded your head standing up, with your flash light in hand

You alongside four others observed the brown and worn out walls of the supposed to be “tomb”. But inside of this tomb there was nothing: no treasure, no jewelry, and no sarcophagus, save for the writings on the walls. You tried to decipher what story it was telling but not only was the writing hieroglyphics but some other ancient writing form.

“what does it say?” hoseok asked, walking up behind you to study the wall that you were extremely concentrated on

“ i’m not entirely sure. its in some other type of language.”

“oh, I see.” he started, his face growing even brighter “ It’s in hanja, a ancient korean type of writing.”

“But why would it be in korean.” jin pitched in

“I guess we’ll have to find out.” said Jimin and everyones heads whipped in his direction just to see him leaning on a wall which sat beside a staircase going down. You don’t recall that being there before so it must’ve been hidden. As you guys walked down the dark stair case hoseok was reiterating what story the writings on the wall above was telling.

“Once upon a time there was a princess whose name was Bektamun, she eventually married a korean prince by the name of jungkook. Thats probably why some of it was written in hanja. But anyways they got married in secret because neither of their families supported their relationship. But there was nothing that they could do about it because the ceremony and ritual was already complete. Jungkook and Bektamun ruled over some kingdom for a solid year, where most people saw them as a god and goddess because of their “powers”.

“oh so lots of family drama and then death after a year of being married.” you rolled your eyes “ sounds like the perfect love story”

You ended up in a candle lit room where finally there were two sarcophagus’ sat side by side. One of which was completely empty. Thats odd but not only that but there were lit candles scattered around the room. you squatted down to feel the white substance that lay on the ground in a an almost perfect circle. It had a powdery texture.

“Hey guys, look” Jimin called out and every one in the room gathered around the golden box that you assumed belonged to jungkook. Where was Bektamun’s body then?.

Hyuna, one of the bunch of you who tagged alone to explore this last tomb began to whisper something that you couldn’t quite make out. After awhile of her just straight out whispering you figured that she was chanting something which kind of creeped you out. Eventually she grabbed your hand and placed it on the corpses chest, as her chants got louder. the necklace wrapped around the dead man’s neck began to glow and you tried your hardest to pull away but to no avail could you do so because Hyuna had a tight locked grip on your wrist, you looked down in horror, wandering why no one was doing anything about your current situation. Finally she let go as you let out a horrendously loud scream and jumped away from the sarcophagus. She and everyone else in the room fell into a fit of laughter, as you rubbed your wrist, not very happy at Hyuna for making you touch a corpse.

“Come on (y/n), it was just a prank” said jimin trailing behind you as you stormed off

“It wasn’t very funny.”

you ended up in some unknown room that held a bunch of scrolls and you rolled your finger against the rough material called papyrus. Hearing rustling from behind you, you snapped your body to face your guest.

“Look Jimin, I don’t feel like-” you started but soon stopped realizing that the intruder was not Park Jimin nor was this guy anyone from the crew that you were stationed with.

“Who are you.” You asked and the tall dark-haired stranger gave you a cute bunny smile

“Bektamun?” he asked and upon seeing your confused face he uttered out another name

“(y/n)?”

“How do you know my name?”

His grin got bigger if even possible, before he spoke something in a foreign tongue

“JIMIN, I SWEAR TO GOD IF THIS IS ANOTHER JOKE.” you threatened

Jimin alongside the rest of the group came trailing into the room and the mystery guys eyes lit up instantly in recognition

“Jimin?” he questioned and the latter turned to face him before he engaged into a conversation with the guy, all the while you not knowing anything that they were saying

The unknown man walked towards you lifting his hand to place it onto your cheek which somehow felt very comforting and warm

“Bektamun, my love, it has been over 5,000 years, It is I, Jungkook.”

This had to be some kind of a prank. You ran off to the site where jungkook’s corpse was located just to see it empty. For some reason you refused to believe that the man was just brought back from the dead. Jimin came from behind you and placed a hand on your shoulder.

“Where is the body Jimin? This is not funny.”

“(y/n), I’m gonna need you to listen to me.” He began and you turned around to face him your lips quivering and your eyes starting to water from shock, disbelief, and fear.

“You are a reincarnation of Bektamun and you have a history with Jungkook. The memories will come to you sooner or later because he has awaken.”

You slid down until you sat down on the cold hard ground, trying to process the information that was just fed to you, before everything went black.

It was a normal hot and sunny day, you stood beside a man and woman who appeared to be of high class. These two were your parents. You looked up and instantly locked eyes with chocolatey brown orbs, getting lost into the foreign boys eyes while he did the same.

“(y/n), this is Jungkook and his father Jinwoo, they are of royalty from a foreign land and we will be housing them until they are able to get back to their home.” your father said, snapping you out of your trance.

“It is my pleasure to meet you both.” you spoke before your mother chimed in

“(y/n), why don’t you show Jungkook around. We have stuff to discuss with his father.

“Okay.”

You and Jungkook walked side by side, strolling through the food markets

“This is a really beautiful place.” he said and you flashed him a smile

“It truly is and someday I will be the ruler of this beautiful kingdom.”

“ A beautiful kingdom, for a beautiful girl, whomever you shall marry will be very fortunate.” You both wore uncontrollable smiles

in this day you taught jungkook how to do some traditional dances such as belly dancing and body rolling, you introduced him to your cultures style of food, and even taught him a few words in your own language, while also telling him of some old stories before your time. In the end you both had a ton of fun and couldn’t help the giggles that fell from each of your mouths.

“How about we meet again, tomorrow maybe?” Jungkook asked and you beamed

“Tomorrow sounds perfect, meet me by the courts.” And with that you both went you separate ways anticipating the meeting that you both sat up for the following day.

Your eyes snapped open, scanning your surroundings, just to figure out that you were in a tent.

“How are you feeling?” a voice to your side snapped you out of your thoughts

“ Oh Jimin, you will not believe the dream that I just had.” you cried out getting ready to tell him of your rollercoaster of emotions.

But just as you were about to spill to Jimin about you extremely odd dream you locked eyes with the same guy that haunted your mind at the moment, Jungkook,. You stared at him for a few minutes trying to process in you head what was happening and while you were doing so he smirked at the same time that Jimin let out a small chuckle. That was when you knew that those supposed “dreams” that you had just experienced were indeed real.

What were you going to do now?

~ admin

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sunshinykittens-blog · 6 years

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Not Enough Alcohol in NYC...

Saturday, November 25 the wee hours of the morning. I think.

I would love to go to sleep right now, God knows I have been through enough chaos the past 72 hours to qualify for hazard pay, or at least PTSD treatment. The flights, the usual holiday family drama (not EVEN my family), an empty apartment, snotting all over some Tower residents, new digs…but I probably should start from the beginning…

Wednesday

When last we left our intrepid adventurer (that would be me), it was in an airport, JFK to be exact. I was waiting, along with Sunny and the 3 younger kids, for our flight out to Pasco (via Seattle) to spend the Thanksgiving weekend with her mom and oldest child. My kids weren’t going to be at my family gathering, so no sense in going home, especially since I’m spending an entire week home for Christmas. Besides, Sunny’s mom has been going through some health issues, and I haven’t seen her in forever. Sunny made all the flight arrangements, all I was supposed to do was pack my bag and be ready to go. So something I didn’t know about her before this day, seeing as I had never flown with her before: Sunny is paranoid about missing flights. I realize that this is one of the busiest days for traveling, and that means all the lines for everything would be extra long, but I am still not sure why we had to leave the apartment at 6 am for a 1:30 pm flight. Maybe she thought we’d get caught up in the parade traffic. But since The Man arranged for a car to take us to the airport (and pick us up upon our return Sunday afternoon), we didn’t have to worry about getting a cab or riding the subway (Sunny’s great idea). So yeah, I am grateful to The Man for the car. Amazingly, we checked bags and got through the security lines very quickly. We were through to the gate section of the airport by 10. Even though one of us was chosen for the random search (guess who that was). Luckily I didn’t have any contraband to speak of, so that was pretty smooth, except for them telling me I needed to get my driver’s license updated to my new address when I get back. Yet another thing for me to have to squeeze in before Christmas. Sunny suggested we grab some coffee and lunch while we waited for our plane. Over this meal is when she told me we had another 3 hours before we were scheduled to board. That’s when I made my last post. (BTW, the girl child is an extremely talented artist, I’ll have to post some of her work sometime soon. Oh, and Sunny did manage to catch the loose cannon. When last I saw, all the kids were still alive.)

I will say this, at least Sunny got us first class seats for our flights (yes, I said flights). It was nice, but we were kind of spread out a bit. Which is nothing compared to the connecting flight in Chicago, which was delayed over an hour for mechanical problems, and we got bumped to another plane, and everyone was pretty scattered then. For our final leg from Salt Lake, though, we were in one cluster of seats, thanks to the airline folks feeling bad for us having missed that connecting flight. After they saw how frazzled she was with the middle child, who kept wandering off. But we arrived safely at our destination airport only about 2 hours later than scheduled. Oh yes, and every time we hit an airport with wifi, Sunny would get a gazillion messages from the oldest child asking why we weren’t there. I felt bad for Sunny, so I admit I bought her a drink in Chicago and Salt Lake. And then I paid for a taxi van to drive us from the airport to her mom’s house so we wouldn’t have to wait for a shuttle.

Didn’t take long for the drama to start when we got there, though. There was only one bed in the house, and that belonged to Sunny’s Mom. The oldest hadn’t even put her bed together, so we were all sleeping on the floor. I haven’t done that in I don’t know how long. Mom started in on how worried she’d been and why were we late, and then blaming Sunny for not getting there any sooner (like we can just hijack the plane or something). But like I said before, Mom had recently had some health problems, so I just tried to overlook it and be there to support Sunny. She was going to need it. Then we all stayed up way too late (with far too little alcohol), and finally got to bed at some point after midnight. I whispered to Sunny as we were drifting off that had I known we were going to sleep on the floor, I’d have rented a car and got a hotel room. Or at least rented some rollaway beds.

Thursday, Thanksgiving

Well, this day started entirely too early for a regular day, much less a holiday, even with the extra time we got for being 3 hours later than home time. Mom had said she needed help cooking, and we were fine with that. But she needed to oversee everything and everyone, assuming we had never entered a kitchen before in our lives. By the way, who in their right mind puts an egg into their literal Stovetop Stuffing? Menu was pretty good, very standard: ham (instead of turkey, which was fine with me), stuffing, green bean casserole, sweet potato soufflé, rolls, and 2 kinds of pie with whipped cream. It was a store bought kind of meal; everything came out of a box, can, or bag, or was bought ready to serve like the ham. Except the pumpkin pie. The Airport Problem Child made that and did a really good job, if I do say so myself. Which I do. So as soon as everything was cooked, we had to eat – right that second! Dinner conversation included why in the world did Sunny move so far away, why didn’t she tell her mom and oldest before she moved, why didn’t she find a man and settle down, how her mom’s health was (not good and how much worse it was getting every second that Sunny wasn’t caving), how the kids liked school, Sunny works too much, maybe at least she could find a husband in New York, how were my kids doing, and when was she moving back to Washington. We tried deflecting most of that by saying we had good jobs that we liked, we were making really good money at them, and we were about to move into a secure building at the first of next month. After dinner (with an unhealthy side of stress and heartburn), everyone retired for a nap. Except for Sunny. She stayed up to clean. Of course I stayed up with her. And it took every bit of 2 hours to clean. After which, the tree came out.

Sunny is not a Christmas person, she really doesn’t like it at all. She feels it’s entirely over commercialized, which I agree with. Unlike her, I enjoy the holiday season with full gusto. My only complaint is with people who have conniption fits when people break out the Christmas songs before Thanksgiving. I also find these are the same ones who then start complaining that there isn’t enough time in the Christmas season to get everything done that they want to do – starting the day after Thanksgiving. Anyway, Sunny was going to be aggravated with the evening. So first, her mom put on some Christmas station with some really annoying, tacky Christmas music. And let me tell you, that is really saying something coming from me. I love all Christmas music. At least I thought so until that night. I mean nobody liked it. Not even Sunny’s mom! And then the tree, it’s a wonder Sunny hasn’t ground her teeth down to stumps. It’s kind of old, but we couldn’t get her mom to let us run out and buy a new one. And the lights…it’s a wonder they can’t see that thing from space. You know those sort of net-type lights, the kind you drape over the shrubs outside? 5 of them. Draped onto a 6 foot tree. Then we had to add another 15 strings of plain white lights. I tell you, I needed shades when we plugged in the tree. Then the ornaments, a mix of glass, plastic, and handmade kids ornaments, and then those irritating silvery plastic icicles, the kind that clog up the vacuum. Then, just when we were starting to get into the tacky music, Mom changed it to something equally obnoxious.

About an hour later, I was questioning my decision to be there for the whole weekend. Because that’s when the oldest started in on how unfair life was and how hard she has it there. I could tell she was angling to move with us. Allow me to say one thing about the eldest child: Super Social Justice Warrior Snowflake, she’s about as far from me on the spectrum politically, religiously, and socially as you can get. And before we had left New York, Sunny made me promise that I would not start a fight with her. In other words, I’m surprised that I didn’t bite my tongue off in the short time I was exposed to her awake. She went all over the place from one thing to another, but finally I’d had enough. In fact, I don’t even remember what it was she said, or even what I said, only that I finally blew up and smacked her with an opinion that should have given her a heart attack right then and there. But her face welled up and she stormed off to her room, slamming the door shut and sobbing loud enough to be heard in Seattle. I just looked at Sunny and said I needed to get some air. I grabbed my coat and headed out the door. I walked for a good while, too bad I don’t have a fitness tracker because I easily walked 10k steps. I finally got so cold I went back inside (no hot water for a shower, but I’ve come to not expect that), and crashed in the living room with the kids instead of in the eldest child’s room with Sunny. I slept very little, eventually getting up literally at the crack of dawn for another walk.

Friday

Overnight I had come to the conclusion that neither my blood pressure nor Sunny’s family could take me sticking around for the rest of the weekend. As soon as I walked out of the door, I was on my phone with the airlines looking for the first flight out. I agreed to be on standby; even an airport had to be better atmosphere. I called a taxi, and realized everything except for my carry on bag was still in the bedroom where Sunny, the artist, and eldest child were still asleep. I was not about to go in and risk waking the crew. Instead, I tiptoed over the boys and went to the kitchen to leave a note.

“Sunny, Needed to fly back quickly. Can you please bring my suitcase when you come? See you in a couple of days. Call when I get home. Tell your mom thanks for dinner. Kate”

I carefully gathered my few things in the living room and made for the door. The youngest sat up and rubbed his eyes, then asked where I was going. I lied to the boy, told him I was needed at work, and that I’d see him in a few days. He shrugged, nodded, yawned, and went back to sleep.

I sat in the airport for only a couple of hours before I got on a flight to Denver, where I sat for two hours before I got a plane to New York. From JFK, I took a taxi back to the apartment. As I was walking up the three flights to the apartment, all I wanted to do was take a long hot bath, cuddle with my Spazzie, and get a full night’s sleep. I planned to spend the rest of the weekend lounging around and maybe doing some packing for the impending move looming on the horizon. It was about 11 pm. I unlocked the door to my apartment, stepped in, turned on the lights and saw…nothing.

Literally nothing. Every single thing was missing from our apartment. No futon in the living room. No dishes in the cabinets. No towels in the bathroom. And, the horror hit me as I realized, EVEN THE CATS WERE MISSING!!! For the third time since I moved to New York, I was dialing 911 to report a theft. And, bless her heart, Officer Yang came to take the report. I tried to give a pretty good description of what was missing. Her partner went down to the super’s apartment but there was no response. About half past midnight, Jake’s mom came home from her shift and looked in. We found out from her that a group of men had come first thing that morning and had been packing up our stuff. She had assumed that she had misremembered the date of our move. She offered to let me stay in their apartment, but I didn’t relish another night sleeping on the floor. Instead I called a cab as soon as the police left.

I had thought about going to a hotel, but figured they would pretty much be booked solid. I decided the best place for me to go would be to the Tower. I knew there were comfortable looking sofas, at least, and I figured that all the residents were gone for the holiday. Maybe I could convince The Man to hurry up the remodel because we really did have nothing. No sense in buying furniture, moving into the old apartment to just have to move it the following week. I had the taxi drop me off at the Tower, and I stood just outside to make the phone call I was dreading. I had to tell Sunny we had been cleaned out. I got her voicemail, which made some sense to me. It was closing in on 1:30 am, which was 10:30 pm there. And her mom was always fussing about her being on her phone. I left her a message and promised to call after I got some sleep. Then I went inside.

The night guard was someone I hadn’t met before, but I had my badge so he let me in. The elevator ride up was the longest leg of my journey. I was reviewing all the events in my head and was starting to feel overwhelmed when the doors opened on the 91st floor. I had decided that I was going to have a cup of tea before trying to find a blanket and settling in on the sofa in the lounge. Surely The Man wouldn’t begrudge me that after everything I had been through. I hung up my coat and stashed my carry on in the closet and entered the common area, headed to the stove to heat water in the rarely-used kettle.

Standing at the island were three men. I recognized Captain Rogers and Sergeant Barnes from news stories I had seen over the years. The other one was unfamiliar to me. They were casually dressed, sweatpants and tees. It appeared they had just come down from the training room, they were slightly sweaty with a healthy glow. Captain Rogers was pouring some post-workout smoothie thing into glasses. I took a deep breath, feeling everything from the past few days welling up behind my eyes, and my nose starting to tingle and burn. I was desperately trying to contain my emotions in front of the people that I was definitely going to be running into in the halls and elevators, residents of the Tower. I was not going to lose control.

They glanced over at me as I came in. Captain Rogers welcomed me, asking if I was one of the housekeepers. I told him I was and then he said he thought we’d be back Sunday evening and where was my partner. I told him that she was still in Washington, and we were supposed to be back Sunday, but I had to leave early. Sergeant Barnes then asked why. And I think that’s where I started to lose that tenuous hold on my emotions. I tried telling them about the disastrous 24 hours that Thanksgiving had been, but I think I became a bit flustered. I don’t think I was making sentences. And then pieces of the past 2 days came spilling out and I absolutely burst into tears. Next thing I knew, I was seated on a stool at the island, Sergeant Barnes was doing his best to awkwardly comfort me with an arm around my shoulders, and the man I didn’t know was pressing a tumbler of some form of alcohol into my hand and demanding that Captain Rogers go find Mr. Stark and bring him up immediately. Before long, hthe Captain had returned with The Man Himself in tow. I will admit, he was concerned to see me sitting there sobbing, and he asked me what was wrong. I lost it again, someone handed me a handkerchief, and after about 5 more minutes, I regained some control. I blew my nose, took a deep breath and started to speak, but when I tossed back half the dark amber liquid, there went my voice.

When it returned, I told him as calmly as I could about the stress at Sunny’s mom’s house, that I just had to leave before really bad things were said, the layovers, the crying babies, coming home to a literally empty apartment, finishing up with the emotional outbursts they had all just experienced, which I assured him was a rare occasion, and could I please have a blanket so I could crash on the sofa. I finished the drink while waiting for the answer. I noticed glares aimed at The Man from the others in the room. And then the Captain threatened to call Miss Potts. Finally The Man said to follow him.

We went down on the elevator together, all four of us. I could almost feel the heat of the glares directed at my boss. This was the second elevator ride I’d had with him that was in complete silence, but somehow I felt like the awkwardness was coming from him this time. The doors opened on the 62nd floor. I followed The Man down the hall to the door opposite the one he had showed us at the beginning of the week, the others behind me like some sort of guard or something. I now thought that what he was going to do was bring up a bed for me. Maybe this convinced him to complete the remodeling ASAP. But when I stepped into the now opened doorway, I was completely flummoxed. There, inside that room, was my apartment. Complete with cats. Spazzie came racing towards me and I scooped him up cuddling and scratching behind his ears. And I started crying again. I put him down for a minute and asked what the hell was going on.

The Man shrugged and told me he’d figured it would be great if we came back and found everything already moved in. One less thing for us to worry about, as it were. They had gone in, packed everything up and moved it, though they hadn’t known what stuff was mine and what was Sunny’s, so unfortunately we were going to have to go through the boxes ourselves. I was really jet lagged, and it was after 2 in the morning, so it took a little while for everything to sink in. But when it did…

I yelled, I screamed at him, I cried big fat hot mad tears. Sergeant Barnes smirked, thoroughly enjoying every word. Sunny’s cat, Aaron, came into the room and started pawing at me. I scooped him up and continued ranting. And then I realized something was climbing my leg. I looked down to see this cute little gray tabby kitten working its way up. And that was most definitely not my cat. I’d never seen it before. The guys all insisted that it must be ours because it was inside the apartment when they packed it up. And it had a collar. About then I felt all my energy drain from my body. I ordered them out and told them that we would finish this conversation tomorrow. I fell into the bed in the bedroom and pulled a comforter up over me. Spazzie curled up behind my knees, Aaron was behind me, and the kitten sprawled out on the pillow next to me. I’ve got to call Sunny tomorrow to let her know everything is OK and to just come to the Tower as soon as she gets in. But right now I need to sleep.

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gldngrl7 · 7 years

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Karamel Fic: Permission to Flourish (6/11)

Title: Permission to Flourish

Author: gldngrl7

Date Started: February 12, 2017

Rating: T for Teen (I know! I can’t believe it either!)

Author’s Notes:

· This story is the sequel to Bulletproof. Please read that one-shot before diving into this one.

· You have no way of knowing this unless I tell you – but I AM NOT A DOCTOR!! Having said that, I do my research and then hope I’m right on the medical stuff.

· Comments are welcomed, flames are destroyed with my freeze breath.

Chapter 6/11

It took some time for Mike to gain control of his rapid breathing and racing heart. Conflict raged righteous fire inside of him. He had wanted her to leave, to go back to the life he’d wanted her to have, but at the same time he wanted to see her again. Six years with only his memories for company had done nothing to chill the heat he felt for her, or the primal pull to be in her presence. Her departure was like being gutted, and still being conscious enough to watch, but powerless to stop it.

He paced the hallway outside the cafeteria, plotting his next move. Or rather, wondering what his next move should be. His hands shook and an uncharacteristic sweat had broken out on his brow. He wanted to go after her, search the skies for her – all the way back to National City if he had to.

But to say…what?

To lay his heart on the line again? To rollback all the effort he’d put into getting back on his emotional feet these last six years? He’d found his self-confidence, his place in this world, and his calling – could he really place that on a chopping block based on the slim hope that he could ever be more to her than the one that got away.

And maybe that’s all this was, really. Kara didn’t like to lose, everyone knew that, and though it hadn’t been his intent at the time, his departure must have seemed to her like taking a hit. He wasn’t sure he could risk losing the ground he’d worked so hard to gain, in the hopes that it might close the gaping wound in his chest. The injury as it stood now, he could live with, he was certain of that, but to open the opportunity to have salt poured into it was a gamble he was unsure he was willing to take.

So he decided that chasing her down wasn’t going to be on his agenda today.

Besides, there was still a little girl in surgery to worry about, and a distressed mother that needed someone to hold her hand and get her a cup of coffee.

Mike headed back into the cafeteria, to the disappointed, overheard groans of more than one lunch-goer. He picked up another coffee for himself and one for Belinda, and grabbed her a cellophane wrapped sandwich as well. He didn’t think she’d be able to eat right now, but he wanted to encourage her to keep her strength up.

Back in the surgical waiting room, he found her making phone calls on her cell, making plans for Amelia’s grandparents to fly in from Coast City as soon as they could pack some bags and get to the airport. Regardless of how the surgery went, Belinda was going to need her parents.

Mike handed her the coffee and the sandwich with a silent nod, unwilling to interrupt her phone call, and stepped away to offer her some privacy. On the other side of the large room there was a bay of floor-to-ceiling windows which is where Mike retreated to stare outside at the sunny day, so contrary to the storm clouds gathering inside his chest. Part of him searched for a streak or red and blue across the cloudless sky.

He pulled out his cell phone and dropped into one of the chairs next to the window. Flipping through his phone’s address book, he settled on the contact cleverly named ‘Asshat’ and pressed the call button. It rang four times before a gruff voice answered.

“Wayne,” he grunted. Not even a hello. But as usual, Mike Matthews didn’t rank when it came to getting the common courtesies.

“I’m sorry,” Mike said, without a hint of sincerity. “Am I interrupting you whaling on some poor hapless fool who was forced, by circumstances, into a life of crime?”

“No one’s forced into a life of crime, Matthews,” the gruff voice retorted. “We all make our choices. We should be held accountable for them.” Clearly, this was a debate they had taken part in before.

“Says the guy who grew up with a silver spoon in his mouth,” Mike retorted.

“Didn’t you grow up with a silver spoon in your mouth?” Wayne rebounded sharply.

“I’ve since reformed.”

“Prisons are full of men who’ve said those exact words.”

“Cut the crap, Wayne. What did you think you were doing?” he accused.

“I take it from your tone that things didn’t go well.”

“You think?” he snapped.

“My mistake then.” Mike could practically hear Wayne’s smug, nonchalant shrug. “I thought you’d be ready to hear her out. I guess I was I wrong.”

“Your mistake?!” Mike chuckles darkly, incredulously. “Are you kidding me right now? I made Clark promise to never tell her about me. Promise! Do you know how hard it is to get that guy to make a promise? It practically takes an Act of Congress. And then you come along and ruin all of that. You get that I didn’t run away from National City for me, right? I did that for her. It was all for her, and now it’s all for nothing.”

“I get it, Matthews. You did it all for her. Blah, blah, blah. It wasn’t working, okay? You need a new plan.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means I looked into that girl’s eyes, dumb shit, and do you know what I saw? It wasn’t a heartless, vapid bitch I was expecting to see after Clark told me what happened. It was a heartbroken little girl who knows she made the worst mistake of her life. I got to hear her side of things, kid, and I thought you should have the chance to hear it too, before you finished planning out what promises to be an unnaturally long and apparently loveless life. You’re welcome.”

Mike dropped his head into one hand, propped up on his knee, his other hand pressing his phone to his face. “You’re a dead man,” he told Wayne, his voice without heat. “I don’t know how yet, but I will find a way. I’m sure I can make it look like an accident. Big underground cavern like that must have its fair share of sharp and slippery surfaces.”

“Alfred keeps it tidy,” Wayne quipped. “Did you at least hear her out before you broke what was left of her heart?”

“I heard her,” he answered defensively. But had he? Had he really heard everything she’d been saying, or had be closed himself off from her words and, more importantly, their deeper meaning? “A little warning would have been nice. A head’s up.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” This time Wayne chuckled and the sound grated like a rusty pipe, as though his laugh muscles didn’t get a regular workout.

“It wasn’t great timing,” he sighed. “Or…I guess it was…in a way.”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

Mike told Bruce about the accident and how he’d just been about to reveal himself as Valor in order to save Amelia, when Supergirl arrived as though heaven-sent.

“I know what Clark would have said about revealing yourself,” Wayne said.

“I wasn’t going to let her die,” Mike insisted.

“No, of course not. You wouldn’t be who you are if you did that. But it would have meant an end to your life as Mike Matthews. You would have had to disappear for a while, change your name, and you probably never would have been able to teach again. And I hear the Fortress of Solitude gets pretty cold this…well…every time of year. So again…you’re welcome.”

“I’m grateful that she was here, for Amelia’s sake, but the drama of it all…that didn’t exactly put me in a frame of mind to hear her out properly.”

“Well the good news is, you know where she lives. And if you don’t, I can find out for you. I have people who do that.”

“You have Alfred.” Mike deadpanned.

“He does that.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Mike snorted. “I think we all know who the real hero is at the Wayne Manor.”

“Oh, I have no delusions on that score.”

There was a moment of silent and rare camaraderie over the line before Mike spoke again. “Look Bruce, I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t involve Kara in your schemes to take the mickey out of me. I don’t care about the rest of it…just not Kara, okay?”

“I didn’t do it to take the mickey out of you, Matthews,” Wayne said.

“Then why did you?”

Silence reigned on the line, only this time it lacked the comfort that existed before. This time Mike could hear the stress of it, as though time itself was straining against its own fabric. Bruce sighed long and deep, ending the quiet before speaking. “Because I loved a woman once, Matthews. She died and I couldn’t save her. I’d give anything for the chance you have now—the chance to put it back together. You’re an idiot if you don’t take it.”

Guiltily, Mike squeezed his eyes shut so tight they crinkled around the edges. He hadn’t known about Bruce’s loss. Of course more than once, he’d idly wondered why a man his age with endless funds and resources, wasn’t able to find a woman to marry him and have his children. The fact that he was kind of a cantankerous asshat couldn’t be the only reason why he was still single. Plenty of women out there that would happily put up with Bruce’s unintentional douchebaggery and expert level crankiness for a shot at a black American Express Card and a private Gulfstream in the hangar.

Suddenly, so many things about Bruce made sense.

“You’re thinking that suddenly so many things about me make sense, aren’t you?”

Mike perked up, his gray eyes blinking as though he were staring into a blinding light. “Yep.”

“Look, kid, I know you’ve never given a single fart for what I think, but for once in your life listen to the advice of your betters—“

“I think you mean elders,” Mike wisecracked.

Bruce sighed, this time the sound of someone forced to suffer a fool. “Just...for once in your sorry life, don’t be blockheaded. Not about this. Take some time to think about it. If you believe…truly believe…that you can move on and be with someone else, then by all means…live that life. But if you can’t…if you accept you can’t…then you know what you have to do. You think you’ve been building something all these years, Matthews, but the truth is…you’ve just been playing for time. One way or another, you need to start living again.” Mike opened his mouth to say something, but Bruce steamrolled right over him, as was his way. “Because when I looked into her eyes I realized something – you’ve both just been waiting to find a way back to each other. It would be helpful if you would stop being such a dickwad about it.”

He could always count on Bruce to pull no punches. “I’ll think about it,” he said. “But right now, Amelia has to be my priority, at least until she’s out of the woods.”

“I’m sure that girl of yours would have it no other way.”

“She’s not my gi—“

“Yeah, whatever,” Bruce blew him off. “Look I’ve got to wrap this up—I’ve probably lost a hundred million dollars in the time it took to have this conversation. This global conglomerate doesn’t run itself, you know. Hey, Matthews?”

“Yes?”

“I’m really sorry to hear about your student. I hope everything works out.”

“I hope so too. Thanks.”

The other end of the line went silent without a hint of white noise, and Mike knew that Bruce had hung up. Bruce’s advice hadn’t been without merit, but Mike didn’t have time to chew on it since a second later he saw Belinda stand up in response to a surgeon entering the room and honing in on her. Mike was on his feet and by her side in a flurry of movement, to hear what the woman in dark blue scrubs had to say.

Her skin was the color of dark chocolate and she had cheekbones that could cut glass, but her dark brown eyes exuded a warmth, which seemed reserved for Belinda, perhaps because they were acquainted with one another. Mike’s instincts said that the doctor was usually more reserved and professional with patient families, kept herself at a distance, but was taking pains to put Belinda at ease.

“Belinda, you daughter had an intracranial hemorrhage of the vertebral artery, which we were able to repair surgically with a craniotomy. Because your daughter suffered a traumatic brain injury we need to keep an eye on her Intracranial Pressure, so we’re going to maintain her intubation and keep her in a medically induced coma for the time being. This should give her brain time to recover. In the meantime, we’re treating her with corticosteroids to control the swelling in her brain, proton pump inhibitors, ACE inhibitors, as well as intravenous Fosphenytoin to prevent convulsions. The next 48 hours are critical, but there’s a lot to be hopeful for,” she said.

Much of what the doctor said may have made sense to Amelia’s mother, but it all sounded terrifying to Mike. “There is?” he queried.

“Yes. Her vitals remained stable throughout surgery and continue to do so. She’s responding to the treatment, and though unconscious, her reflexes and involuntary reactions remain intact. Unfortunately, we can’t get an accurate GCS score until after we pull her from the coma. We’ll have a better idea of a long term prognosis at that time.”

“And when will that be?” he wondered.

“I can’t be sure,” she answered, honestly. “Let’s just get through the next 48 hours and then we’ll reassess. At any rate, she’ll be in the ICU for a few days at least, that way when she wakes up we’ll be able to monitor her for a potential re-bleed. She’s being moved to the ICU right now…you should be able to see her in an hour or so. I know you know the drill, Belinda, just remember that it looks worse than it actually is.”

“Thank you, Dr. Dagmar.”

“They’ll page me if there are any changes,” she nodded at both Belinda and Mike before turning to walk away.

Belinda let out a breath she seemed to have been holding for hours. Not the kind of breath that fuels the lungs and body, but the kind of breath that sustains the soul. She swayed on her feet as though releasing the air had caused her to deflate like a balloon. Mike reached out to steady her, anchoring her body against his, before walking her back to the sofa.

“She made it through the surgery,” Belinda said, her voice shaking. “I prayed that if she could just make it through surgery, I’d take whatever came after that. So…the next step is to get her through the next 48 hours.”

“What can I do?” he asked, taking her hand again.

“I-I don’t know,” she stammered, flustered by his offer. She hadn’t expected him to do more than stick around to make sure Amelia made it through surgery.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to stay with you until she’s settled in her room. Are they going to let you stay the night?”

“Yes,” she nodded. “I’m a NICU nurse,” she indicated her pink scrubs as an explanation. “They’ll let me stay as a courtesy. And because children always heal better when they’re surrounded by loved ones.”

“That’s good. I’ll be expected in class tomorrow, but I’ll be back as soon as school’s out. Maybe I can sit with her then…give you a break?”

“That would be great, Mike. I know she would really appreciate it. I’m certain she’ll know that you’re there. Somehow. Anyway, I’m going to make a few more calls and see if I can get my parents a room at the hotel across the street. I think that will be easier than having to go back to our apartment.”

After about half an hour they relocated to the ICU waiting room; a smaller and cozier place close enough to Amelia’s room to see nurses come in and out. He called Erica and gave her the update, completely confident that the word would spread to all and sundry like a row of houses on fire. Like a true friend that Erica was, she showed up at the hospital, long after dinner time, to bring him a stack of things from his desk.

“Yesterday’s homework,” she told him. “And today’s Social Studies worksheets.”

“If you really loved me, you would have graded them for me.”

She side-eyed him before handing him the black bag in her hands. “And your laptop,” she held the bag aloft.

“Bless you,” he changed his tune. With his laptop and the free hospital Wi-Fi he could keep himself busy for hours. He had a backdoor password through the firewall of the Philadelphia 911 dispatch. From his laptop he could monitor events unfolding all over the city and determine whether his presence was needed at a moment’s notice.

“How is she really?” Erica asked, concern etched deeply on her face. She looked as though she had aged a decade in the last few hours.

“Same,” he replied, with a shrug. “I’m afraid we’re in a no-news-is-goods-news situation for the next few days. If nothing changes, that’s progress, since they’re intentionally keeping her in a coma. When they decide it’s time to wake her up…that’s when we’ll really know. What were they saying at school?”

“The kids are worried about her. We spent the last hour of school making a get-well-soon card for her,” she evaded.

“I wasn’t talking about the kids,” he countered.

She placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Accidents happen, Mike, and sometimes they’re bad.”

“It’s my first year,” he pointed out.

“And you’re a rookie. No one is blaming you and as long as her mother doesn’t decide to come after you, no one else is going to either. I was there, remember. I told them everything. If anything, it was my fault for distracting you.”

“Don’t do that to yourself too, Erica. We weren’t doing anything we don’t usually do.”

“They might take down the jungle gym, though. Kids aren’t going to like that. “

“Whatever keeps them safe,” Mike agreed. “I’ll find other ways to keep them occupied. Hey, do you think they’ll let us play paintball?” he joked.

Erica laughed, the first one since the accident. “Not on your life.”

“Well, I’ll figure something out.” They chatted for a few more minutes before she left, returning to her home and her waiting husband. She urged him to get some rest because his kids would offer no quarter in the morning.

After two hours of grading papers and frustratingly human speeds he made a decision and packed this things. He needed to do something. He needed to fly, to feel the wind against his face and hear the sound of it whistling through his cape. It was hard idling in a place like this without being aware that there were other people out there in need of help. He left a message with the ICU nurse on duty, to let Belinda know that he would see her tomorrow afternoon as promised, but that he needed to get home.

Mike grabbed his things to take them out to the car and passed through the main lobby on his way out, just as news of a refinery explosion on the banks of the Schuylkill River came across the crawl, interrupting the regularly scheduled program.

Perfect. Just what he needed.

Something went horribly wrong at the refinery, a worn pipe in the Cat-cracker led to a catastrophic failure creating an explosive gas cloud, which was then sparked by a worker banging a wrench against the pipe at an inopportune moment. The worker and three of his colleagues were dead in an instant, engulfed by a fireball that led to a secondary explosion throughout the Cracker.

Plenty of fuel on hand to feed the fire, without intervention the blaze could conceivably rage for days. Valor assessed the situation from a bird’s eye view. Clark had trained him to evacuate first, and deal with the threat after everyone was clear, which was exactly the tack he chose. A Nomex-suited worker in a hard hat, his face covered in soot, waved frantically at him from atop a cooling tower. The base of the tower was ablaze, which would inevitable cause the tower to lose structural integrity and collapse.

He landed beside the man, slipping one arm around his waist, while he guided the frightened man’s arm over his shoulder. “Hang on,” he instructed, raising his voice over the sound of the fire and the scream of rending metal.

The muster point wasn’t hard to find. A safe distance from the fire, where those who got out at the first sign of danger gathered to take roll and determine who was missing. Valor was assaulted by frantic voices telling him of colleagues still missing in the facility and where they were assigned to work, giving him an idea of where to locate them. Where the workers’ instructions didn’t help, his super hearing did. He honed in on heartbeats, easier to hear in their adrenaline soaked state.

Valor moved in a blur of red, almost faster than the human eye could comprehend, tearing away the twisted detritus blocking the exit door of a control room to release the seven workers trapped inside. He instructed them to the muster point and moved on to the Delayed Coking Unit, where three men were huddled together on a stairwell, the bottom 100 feet of which was blown away by the initial explosion. He would have to put out the fire quickly before it reached the Coking Unit, or the entire place would go up in a fireball, the resulting gas cloud driving people in a four mile radius out of their homes for weeks, or even months to come.

Thankfully, those three men were the last of the missing and he finally was free to neutralize the threat. He used his arctic breath to chill the Coking Unit to buy himself some time while he froze chunks of the Schuylkill River to put out the fire. Heat from fire melted the frozen sheets creating a rain that doused the fire bit by bit. He went back to the river four times until the flames were low enough to take care of the rest with his freeze breath. To be certain of the safety of the surrounding neighborhood, Valor flew in ever-expanding circles over the refinery at hypersonic speeds until the smoke and fumes dissipated enough to reach non-toxic levels.

His final task was the most sobering; cooling the smoldering shell of the Cracker enough so that the HazMat crew could retrieve the remains of the four dead workers. Assuming there was anything left to retrieve.

Their thanks were profuse and he stuck around for a few moments because Clark had taught him that sometimes people needed to show their gratitude. Sticking around to shake their hands and learn their names was something he did for them – not for himself.

Especially on a day like today.

TBC

#karamel #karamel fic #bulletproof verse

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