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wheninitalyy · 3 years

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France is no escape - part 2.

A/N - Here’s part two!! Wooo!

I’m working mainly on working for readers to feel close with their character and their thoughts, I’m more comfortable writing about conflicts and getting to know characters on personal levels. Sorry if this is a bit rushed toward the end, I had been thinking about writing part two to this ever since I wrote part one, but- uh yeah thank you for reading!

Click here for Part One :]

Pairing : Benny Watts x Reader

Word count : 2749

Warnings : drinking, smoking, (some fluff this time though :] )

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I threw the blanket that covered me to the side, “And I said- Well, buy me a drink first!” the show’s laugh track played.

“Stupid,” I mumbled as I switched the television off, I peeled my eyes off the television for the first time in a couple hours. I thought being a photographer would make me busy, but it seems impossible to get any good shots when everyone important is hiding away in their rooms.

I left my room earlier to look around, I took a few shots of the hotel and some of the chess tables for inside of the magazine but there wasn’t enough to keep me out and about for longer than an hour.

I needed a drink, something to help me relax or take my mind off the pressure of having absolutely nothing for the magazine. I haven’t even met up with my co-worker who was writing an article for this event, I called the magazine author before I came here but weirdly I haven’t seen them all day.

I threw myself off the couch not wasting anymore time, dusted myself off, making sure I looked somewhat presentable in case I ran into anyone.

I centered my watch on my wrist as I read the time, 5:47 pm.

I had a couple hours to get a drink before the bar filled up with men throwing their money out the window when they lose a 5th game of speed-chess.

I tripped over air as I closed my door behind me, pulling the heel of my shoe on.

I turned a corner and got into an elevator just as a couple exited it, they looked like any other couple whose trip was likely crashed by a bunch of chess players this weekend.

I let out a little ‘whew’ sound as I spotted the bar, get in and get out, no small talk tonight or so I thought.

“One cocktail please,” I told the bartender behind the bar, he nodded and started making my drink immediately.

I pulled off my coat, laying it down on my lap.

It was a nice bar, nothing like the ones back at home I used to go to.

Strings of lights under the tables, lighting up the ground. About four silk covered chairs sat at every table in the restaurant. A few couples or families having dinner and, in the corners, sat some men and their chessboards.

I missed playing chess at dinner, upsetting the waiters as we decided to throw their perfectly set out plates and silverware to the side so we could order our drinks and question every play and move in our games.

I hadn’t been able to have moments like that in a long time. Sure, I get to dance around carefree and smoke in my apartment alone acting as if I owned the world, but eventually you get tired of living that life.

I wanted to live my old life.

I can’t tell you what I would give for one piece of normal in this place, my normal.

“Here you are,” the bartender placed my drink on the bar table in front of me, placing a napkin under the drink to catch the condensation.

I gave him a smile as I caught myself wishing my life different, I need to stop doing that. I’m content and happy here, just lonely.

I put the cup to my lips, wanting to pull back at the simple taste of the sugar around the rim of the frosted glass.

One sip turned into a couple and soon I was done with the whole drink. If I’m being honest- I couldn’t drink another, too sweet. Maybe a beer or something, just one before I go back up to my room.

I turned around to look out on the grand room full of elegant looking lights strung from the ceiling, there was a large window with a glass double door to the right of the room. On the other side of the glass was a simple patio, metal chairs and tables with umbrellas. I could see the end of the sunset from where I sat, a little clearing between the buildings where the sun dropped into the road, I’d like to walk around out there when its light.

Over the time I was sat at the bar, the restaurant filled. Chess players at each table trying to balance their food with their perfectly placed chess pieces and trying not to disrupt the games as they ate.

It was strange but I enjoyed watching them interact and curse when they realized they had lost, its possible that my fascination with watching people play chess is why I got into photography for chess. Catching shots of people deep in thought, not posed, just some strangers playing chess- it’s the best.

I wish I had brought my camera down here.

“Ahem,” a man cleared his throat behind me, I swirled my chair around to him,

“Matt?!” I was shocked to see someone like Matt here of all places, he smiled and pulled me out of my chair and in for a hug before I could protest.

“Hey, my favorite photographer,” he greeted me as he pulled me up off the ground just a bit,

Matt was an older friend, back in high school kind of older friend. I hadn’t seen him in years, longer than most of my friends back in America.

“What are you doing here?” I questioned him as I pulled back, keeping my hands tight on his upper arms,

“I came with Benny believe it or not, I wouldn’t have gotten into some big tournament like this without him,” he laughed as he ruffled my hair, him being taller than me by only a couple inches. “Benny told me he saw you here this morning. I had a feeling you would be down here around this time,” he looked out at the tables.

I smiled at him and exhaled as I looked up at the ceiling, thank you Benny.

“God... I’ve missed you Matt,” I pulled him in for a hug again ignoring all worries about being on the job, because surely I wasn’t on the job at 7 pm.

“Jeez, a little homesick, are we?” he asked me as he patted my back and let out a short laugh.

Matt pulled me off him and sat down at the bar beside me, “What’re you drinking? A beer?” he grabbed my drink and looked at the label.

He got the bartender’s attention easily, “I’ll have what they’re having,” he gave the man a smile.

He turned to me and snickered at my tendency to get lost in my thoughts. He tapped my shoulder to get my attention, “So- what’s new?”

“You know, you got to talk to him. He’s probably up in his room sulking right now,” Matt joked,

I nudged him with my shoulder and let out a huff, “I will, just not tonight,” I told him as I finished my beer.

“Who’s sulking up in their room?” a voice came from behind us; I knew that voice.

I looked over my shoulder to see Benny wearing his Benny Watts smile with the same clothes from earlier today, without the hat this time and his coat hung over his arm.

Nice timing Benny.

“There he is!” Matt greeted him,

Benny flashed me a smile and then gave Matt a hug, I turned back to the bar to gather myself. I heard the Matt insult Benny’s hair and it started a pointless quarrel within the minute, I snorted and ran a hand through my hair.

They had small talk that sounded more like Matt parenting Benny, asking where he was, who he was with and such.

Matt flagged down the bartender for another drink and I picked up my beer and looked through the glass deciding if I was going to have another, but my thoughts were interrupted as Benny threw his arms over my shoulders. He loosely put his hands in each other, a poor excuse for a hug but I wasn’t complaining.

“Hey,” he greeted me leaning his head in near my ear, I felt my body tense up as he spoke so close to my ear.

“Hi Benny,” I said softly putting down the bottle,

“No more Mr. Watts?” he laughed,

“No- that was,” I paused as I laughed shallowly at my stuttering, “No, you’re Benny,” I told him as I looked down at my hands on the table.

I already knew he had his ‘I won’ smile spread across his face.

“And you’re Y/N,” he said softly, his way of forgiving me in a way.

I smiled and put my hand on his, he grabbed my hand and squeezed it gently.

He had come over here and treated me as if we were friends again, he gave me that feeling I had been craving- feeling normal.

I missed any affectionate he gave me, it was rare in public that he gave more than handshakes and short hugs, but right now I held his hand in mine and I couldn’t be more content with this moment that I had to stop myself from smiling to the point where my cheeks hurt.

I missed Matt and Benny, and even Benny’s friends who would come over on late nights to play speed-chess for me to lose to them, then them losing to Benny. All I had for months on end was work, and days to waste away. I had no one to spend my days with and when I did, the memories lingered for hours divided between days.

This felt right.

Being here with a man I could compare to a puppy and another who used to be my best friend is the most right my life has felt for a while.

I flinched as Matt raised his voice suddenly.

“Alright! Let’s play some chess!” Matt got out of his chair and put a hand on each of our shoulders, we both looked to him.

“The alcohol is kicking in,” I whispered, Benny heard me and lightly nudged me as he smiled.

I smiled and shook my head, this felt right.

“Let’s!” Benny entertained Matt’s excitement, he pulled his arms back and spun me around to let me off the stool.

Matt nearly pull me out of my seat as he tugged us over to one of the only empty dinner tables, it hadn’t even been cleaned yet but clearly, we didn’t care.

I laughed at his eagerness, but I wouldn’t ask him to stop, this was the thing I had been begging for. The thing I was sitting here at the bar alone daydreaming about was happening, its like they heard my thoughts.

Chess had become an important part of my life at an early age, and even more important when I met some chess players during high school. Chess was the go-to to cheer everyone around me up, yet it was also what made so many people around me fall apart or go mad.

I got into photography senior year and couldn’t let go of a camera until, well- never. The world was beautiful when you looked past all the flaws and ruins, even then it was still beautiful with them.

Photography only became who I wanted to be when I met Benny, Benny showed me what it was like to have more than one road to capture memories on. Benny showed me what it was like to take pictures without a camera- to play memories in my head whenever I wanted to.

Benny never forgot anything, so when I met him, I decided I wasn’t going to either.

“Wait- just one more round!” Matt begged trying to redeem himself,

“No, its getting late. You know I have a real tournament to win tomorrow, right?” Benny sighed and kicked him chair back as he stood up,

“Wow, fine,” Matt mumbled a couple swears and turned to another man who was sitting at our table, he didn’t let the man get in a word before he set up the chessboard in front of him.

I snorted and looked up at Benny next to me, “Walk with me?” he asked offering a hand to me. I hesitated at first but grabbed him hand as I stood up, pushing my chair back into the table.

After I said my goodbyes to Matt and made him promise he wouldn’t drink anymore, I followed Benny out to the patio.

A rush of cold air hit me as Benny opened the door in front of us, he held the door open as I walked outside into the cold city-life. You could hear distant chatter on the streets and horns honking every couple seconds.

“Maybe I should move to France too, seems nice,” Benny said quietly, he lit his cigarette. I looked over at him lean against the building wall, “Want one?” he offered me a cigarette as I leaned on the wall next to him.

I looked at the small pack he offered to me, I put the backs of my fingers against my lips for a moment as I tried to resist the urge. I wasn’t a huge fan of cigarettes. Sure, one is nice sometimes, but they just make me feel... bad.

I pulled my hand away from my face and gently grabbed the cigarette out from in-between Benny’s lips, I took a smoke.

“Or steal mine,” he smiled as he reached for another,

“Don’t,” I coughed as I blew out the smoke, handing the cigarette back.

We stayed there awhile, silently listening to the city thrive outside, watching the lights in buildings flick on and off.

“I’m sorry I left,” I whispered just loud enough for Benny to hear,

It had been on my mind all night tonight; I shouldn’t have left him, I needed to leave but I didn’t mean to leave him in the process.

“After my mother passed, I needed to be somewhere new. I needed something new,” I said looking down at my feet,

“Ouch,” Benny laughed shallowly,

“No, not you. You were- are my best friend, you were the best thing in my life, Benny. I didn’t want to leave you nor did I want to ask you to run away to France with me,” I explained, I looked over at him. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand as his other fell beside him holding his cigarette in-between his long fingers.

He didn’t respond or say anything for a couple minutes, and why would he? Those were poor excuses for skipping the country.

“I miss you,” he said softly taking another smoke, he threw his cigarette on the ground and put it out under his boot. “It wasn’t fair,” he turned to me.

“I know,” I whispered.

It almost felt like everything went quiet as I waited for him to say something else, anything else.

I wanted some clue on how to go back to not being viewed as someone who ran away from their life scared, I wanted a hint on how I could make him look at me like I didn’t break his heart.

“Y/N,” he pushed himself away from the wall, I looked over at him. “I’ll walk you to your room,” he said as he already had started walking.

I walked beside him down the hallway to my room, I hadn’t said anything more than directions on our way here. I was scared to say something, but I had to eventually.

We got to my room, I unlocked my door and turned around as I pushed open my door with my back.

Benny stopped and stared at me; I wish I could know what he was thinking. I wish I could hear his thoughts. He smiled as he looked up at the ceiling, clearly talking himself out of doing something, I do that all the time.

I pulled his arm toward me till I could grab his coat and pull him into a hug, “This is what I meant to do this morning,” I told him. I rested my chin on his shoulder waiting for him to hug me back, he wrapped him arms around me tightly.

“Yeah, it is,”

I shut my door and put my back against it, I slid down until I hit the floor.

I sighed wrapping my arms around my legs, my legs pressed against my chest and I almost sunk into the floor.

Shit.

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Part Three !

#benny watts #benny watts imagines #benny watts x reader #the queens gambit #the queens gambit imagines #imagines #thomas brodie-sangster #thomas brodie-sangster imagines

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theweasleysredhair · 4 years

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Flustered [G.W.]

Character: George Weasley

Word Count: 3077

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: “You make my heart skip a beat.” In which Georgie is a chaotic, flustered mess in love with a Hufflepuff chaser.

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: For the lovely Erica - I really hope you enjoy it angel! I may have been working on this all week and rewritten it like three times so I’m hoping I got George being all flustered yet cheeky right 😂

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

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“Wow, you really like her don’t you,” Fred commented as he watched his twin staring hopelessly at the h/c girl a few metres to his left.

“What?” George snapped out of his daydream just as he walked straight into a pillar, knocking him back on his feet and he groaned in pain as Fred and Lee laughed.

“Might wanna watch where you’re walking instead of staring at Y/n, mate,” Lee joked, watching as George rubbed gingerly at his nose. “Love really is blind, eh George?” Fred sniggered.

George groaned, half at his nose hurting and half at his friends’ teasing. It’s not his fault he was so distracted - how could he be expected to focus on where he was walking when you were a few metres away from him?

“Oh shut up, the pair of you. You’re acting like you’ve never fancied a girl before. I distinctly remember you falling on your face, Fred, when you first started liking Angelina,” George scowled, nudging his brother.

“That’s because you tripped me up!” Fred said indignantly. George feigned innocence, “I would never do such a thing.”

And then suddenly his focus had fallen back on you, his previous conversation fading into the background, barely paying attention to Lee’s laughter at his expense.

“She’s the best chaser in Hogwarts I reckon,” he said dreamily, watching as your head fell back as you laughed with your teammates.

To be fair, he wasn’t wrong. You’d made a name for yourself since you’d joined the team a couple years back, and were the best player on the Hufflepuff team. Luckily for George, he knew Harry was a better seeker than Cedric, but he knew you were a force to be reckoned with - you’d scored the most points since the year had started and by a longshot at that.

“You know, we have three perfectly good chasers on our own team you should be complimenting,” Lee pointed out as he opened the doors to exit the castle.

The sun was out, warming up what would have otherwise been a mild morning, dew still covering the grass as hoards of Hogwarts students were milling around, waiting for the match to begin.

The boys began heading towards the quidditch pitch, knowing Oliver Wood would already be there to prep the team on which strategies they’d be using today.

George sighed, “Yeah but... they don’t look like Y/n do they. Or act like her. Or sound like her.”

“I swear to Merlin, if you lose us this match because you can’t stop staring at the girl then I’ll personally kill you myself,” Lee threatened playfully.

“No worries about that, I’ve got a plan!” George announced proudly, straightening his back and pushing his chest out proudly.

“You made a plan? Without me?” Fred came to a sudden halt, making Lee bump into his back as the older twin dramatically clutched his chest as if he was heartbroken.

“Yep. Made it just this minute... I’m gonna flirt with her whilst we’re playing, to distract her,” the younger twin said determinedly.

There was a moment of silence before Fred and Lee burst out laughing laughing, continuing on their journey to the pitch. “You can’t flirt. You can barely speak to her,” Lee chortled, grabbing onto George’s shoulder for support.

“‘S not true. I had a conversation with her the other day!”

“She asked you if she could borrow a quill and you stared at her with heart eyes for a solid couple of minutes before I handed one to her instead. Wouldn’t call that a conversation, Georgie,” Fred said pointedly.

“I wasn’t referring to that - thanks for reminding me of that by the way,” George fake-glared at his twin, “I actually saw her in the library.”

“Oh yeah? What were you doing in the library?” Lee asked in disbelief, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I was studying,” George said simply.

At the sight of Fred and Lee raising their eyebrows, George sighed, “Okay fine, I was hiding from Filch. And I may have seen her walk in there before me. The point is, we had an amazing conversation and she called me cute.”

“Everyone stand back, Georgie’s been called cute and had some really hot, passionate eye contact!” Fred called out sarcastically.

George looked unimpressed, “Oh ha-ha, very funny.”

As they arrived at the stands, the twins bid goodbye to Lee who headed up to commentator’s box.

Around 15 minutes later, the twins were in their quidditch uniform and had just finished with the match briefing. They walked out, laughing and joking when Fred nudged George and nodded over to where you were stood in the middle of the pitch with your team, in your own quidditch uniform, holding onto your broom.

George picked up his pace, taking his place in front of you. He smirked at you, “Heard you’ve been practicing night and day for this, shame we’re going to beat you anyway.”

You looked up and were pleasantly surprised to see the younger twin standing across from you, in his starting position for the match. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t happy he’d chosen to come and see you instead of speaking to his team.

You scoffed and shot him a grin, “I’m gonna fly circles around you in this match.”

“Bring it on, love! Gryffindor are the best team going,” he bragged, puffing out his chest playfully and making you laugh (something he was extremely happy to have done - he’d never get sick of hearing the melodic sound).

“Oh yeah? We’ll see about that,” you said determinedly, climbing onto your broom.

The match began and George made it his mission to compliment you every time he flew past you, to distract you from scoring. Usually, nothing could stop you from getting the quaffle into the hoops but there was something about the ginger boy that had you flustered, heart racing every time he’d throw a smirk your way.

“Did I ever tell you how beautiful you look right now?” He’d said to you as he flew past you, distracting you just long enough for Alicia Spinnet to score a goal and making you grit your teeth in annoyance.

When you had stolen the quaffle from Katie Bell and were just about to score, he came up beside you saying, “Always knew you were an amazing chaser, babe.” And that was enough for you to miss the hoop by barely a fraction of a centimetre.

The last straw was when you’d just managed to throw the quaffle past Oliver Wood, after having to flip over on your broom to avoid Angelina Johnson flying past you in an attempt to steal it from you, earning another 10 points for Hufflepuff when the younger twin flew past you again, “Well that was hot as hell, love.”

And suddenly you forgot where you were for a moment, staring after him as he flew off, mouth open in a slack ‘o’.

Your team captain flew past you, yelling, “Flirt in your own time, L/n!”, making you realise that you were, in fact, in the middle of a quidditch match. And with that, you decided to give George a taste of his own medicine.

“‘M really glad you keep passing us the quaffle, love, making it so much easier for us to win,” George teased you. “Anything for the most handsome beater around,” you retaliated, batting your eyelashes at him. Sure, you could’ve come up with something better but for being in the middle of a game and thinking on the spot, you didn’t think it was too bad.

You were right as well, because as soon as you said it, George stopped mid-air, frozen in place. Because... did you just call him handsome?

His heart was pounding as he stared after you, your h/c hair flowing in the wind and making his breath catch in his throat.

And then suddenly out of the corner of his eye, he noticed a bludger coming straight for you. With a glance over at Fred, who was busy trying to ensure Angelina - who had the quaffle - could score, he realised that the other bludger was heading towards Katie Bell.

George raced into action, beginning to head over to help Katie, who moved to dodge said bludger, before suddenly swerving on his broom over towards you, smacking the iron ball away from you merely seconds before it hit you.

He turned to you, all previous playfulness gone and replaced with concern, “Are you okay?”

You barely had enough time to nod, still in shock from the near-hit, before George was called off again by Fred.

“Maybe focus on your own teammates, eh Weasley?” Oliver shouted angrily at George, who looked around and realised Katie Bell had been hit with the other bludger.

“Sorry Ollie mate, had to protect what’s mine,” he called back to his captain.

“And because of that my shoulder got hit!” Katie yelled out.

“Sorry, Bell,” George shrugged, before heading off to hit a bludger away from Alicia. Of course, he did feel bad that Katie got hurt - quite guilty, in fact - but... to him, it would’ve been worse if you’d have been hit - or worse again, had fallen. He didn’t think he could handle that.

“You’re lucky we won,” Fred said to George after Harry had caught the snitch, “Otherwise I reckon Oliver would try and drown you in the showers for saving Y/n instead of Katie.”

“Y/n is my priority to be honest,” George replied as they landed their brooms on the grass, “Plus, I knew Katie saw the bludger coming and had at least a chance to swerve. Y/n had no idea. I couldn’t let her get hurt, Freddie... I couldn’t.”

“Guess we’ll have to work on distractions in the next practice,” Oliver said pointedly on the way past the twins, although the didn’t seem too upset - probably considering Gryffindor had won - followed by Katie who was holding her shoulder.

“Yeah, sorry about that,” George said sheepishly. If he was honest though, it wasn’t really a hard decision for him to choose between saving you and saving Katie.

Katie didn’t make his heart race like you did.

The rest of the team headed after the cheering crowds, whooping and hollering at Harry.

Fred followed on, screaming excitedly into the crowd. George went to join when he felt someone tap his shoulder.

He turned around and was met with the sight of your nervous smile, rocking back on your heels as you looked up at him, “Hey... I um, I just wanted to thank you. You know, for hitting that bludger away from me. You didn’t have to do that and I never got the chance to thank you in the game.”

“Don’t you worry love, it was nothing. Gotta protect your pretty face, don’t I?” He said cheekily, making a blush rise on your cheeks.

“Well, it wasn’t nothing, it saved me a great deal of pain and possibly a nasty fall so... I guess I owe you,” You grinned, before leaning up to press a soft kiss to his cheek. You thanked him again and then shyly waved him goodbye to join your teammates.

George felt like a schoolgirl with a crush, his mind racing and heart beating fast as he reached up to the place where you’d kissed him. You’d kissed him.

“You look happy with yourself,” Fred commented with a grin from a few metres away, having walked back after realising his twin wasn’t following.

“She kissed me,” George announced in amazement and pure awe. “Yeah, on the cheek,” Fred grinned, crossing his arms over his chest.

“That still counts!”

“No Georgie it really doesn’t, but I’m glad you think so,” the older twin replied in an amused tone.

“D’ya reckon she fancies me?” George asked suddenly as the twins headed down to the Great Hall for lunch. For a moment, Fred was confused, looking around for some kind of context, but then realised his twin was talking about you.

“Well I mean you are the less attractive twin and all but you do have some good qualities I suppose,” Fred replied, looking like he was in thought.

“Oh yeah, like what?” George asked seriously, hoping for some actual advice.

“Well for starters you have an amazing twin brother.”

George stopped, staring at Fred’s grin and sighing before elbowing him - slightly harder than he intended to so Fred nearly fell into the wall.

“Now now Georgie, I’m simply trying to tell you that I am offering you my services at helping you win her over,” Fred said with a laugh, nudging his twin right back.

“At this point I’m open to anything.”

“Well, this may seem a bit out there, over the top, dramatic - but how about... you just tell her directly how you feel. You have no problem being all sappy about her to me. I’m sick of it really,” Fred sighed with a shake of his head.

“I can’t do that.”

“You’re George Weasley of course you can mate.”

“D’ya reckon?” George glanced over to the group of students heading down the same corridor, most likely to head to get some lunch too.

“Yeah I do. Or, even better, just walk over and snog her the next time you see her.”

As much as George liked that idea - and was imagining it right that moment - he decided against it.

“What if there’s someone else?” Fred decided mess with George. The younger twin’s head whipped round to look at Fred, “What do you mean?”

“Oh wow your face, you’re really gone on her... poor Y/n,” Fred laughed, clapping a hand on George’s shoulder, “All I’m saying is, my dear sweet twin, what if there’s someone else?”

George swallowed. He hadn’t thought of that. What if there was someone else? He hadn’t seen you with anyone and knew Fred was winding him up but what if?

“Then I’ll just beat away the other competition,” George said with a cheeky grin, hiding his worry but his mind was reeling at the possibility.

Fred groaned at the pun, shaking his head. He opened his mouth to reply to his twin when they heard soft laugher from behind them, “Oh don’t you worry, no one could ever beat you, George.”

The twins turned around in shock, George’s heart pounding as his eyes rested on your figure.

“Oh dear Godric, marry her,” Fred groaned as he walked away towards the Great Hall, mumbling something about bad puns.

George felt his cheeks redden, reaching up with one hand to scratch the back of his neck, “You um.. you heard that?” You bit your lip before grinning, “I did.”

“Is it too late to pretend I’m Fred?” George asked with a nervous smile. He could feel the tips of his ears burning and he had no doubt they were most likely blending in with his hair at that point.

You laughed, “Well you could but I’m quite fond of you as yourself if I’m honest.”

“You are?” George’s mind raced, and he felt his breath catch in his throat. He then mentally cursed himself for acting so stutter-y and nervous as he ran a hand through his messy hair, “I mean, that’s good because I’m quite fond of you too.”

“Of course. There’s not many guys who would go out of their way to protect me from bludgers... especially when they’re not on my team or as handsome as you are,” you said with a small shrug. You giggled a little noticing a strand of hair sticking up from George messing with it, so you reached up and flattened it out, making him swallow from how close your lips were to his.

He could easily close the couple of inches between you if he wanted. Well, he did want to - badly - but just as he built the courage, you’d stepped back a little further away.

“Some things are more important than who’s on what team... don’t you worry love, I’d protect you from bludgers all day long if you asked me to,” he replied with a cheeky smile.

“Is that an offer you make to all the girls?” You asked with a laugh. “Nah, just the ones I fancy,” George admitted.

“You’re sweet, you know that?”

“Now that you mention it...,” he pretended to think, before shooting you a grin, “Yeah I know.”

You laughed and his gaze flickered from your eyes to your lips and back again as his tongue darted out to swipe across his own bottom lip. You were still stood close, he could - what was it Fred said? He could walk over and snog you.

Your laughter had dropped to a comfortable silence before George broke it, stepping forward so the distance between you became nearly non-existent, “You know, I was thinking, maybe we can- or I could- can I-”

“Kiss me, Georgie” you interrupted his rambling.

“Oh bloody hell- yeah absolutely,” he breathed as he grabbed your hips, pulling you to him and crashing his lips to yours. Your hands made their way around his neck as he slowly turned you to press you against the nearest wall, one of his hands on your waist as the other cupped your jaw to better angle himself.

He sighed happily as you tugged at strands of his hair, the hand that was on your waist moving slightly so it gripped the back of your hip, pulling you closer to him.

You pulled away a little to take a breath and before you knew it he was kissing you again, showing you how long he’d waited for this moment.

“Hey Y/n?” He said in a low tone as you pulled away, pressing another kiss to your swollen lips before resting his forehead against yours. “Yes Georgie?”

“You make my heart skip a beat,” he said with a proud grin.

You couldn’t help the laugh that escaped you, “It took you all that time to come up with that?”

“In my defence, I had you - looking like you do - in front of me, being all distracting. And then you let me kiss you. You try coming up with something better,” George scoffed playfully, giving your waist a gentle squeeze.

“Oh I could easily beat you at this game,” you replied immediately, grinning up at him. His mouth dropped open a little and his eyes lit up, staring at you as if you’d hung the moon and stars in the sky,

“Merlin, Fred was right: Marry me?”

#george #george weasley #george x reader #george weasley x reader #george weasley imagine #george weasley imagines #weasley twins #weasley twins imagine #weasley twins imagines #hp #harry potter #all queue have to do is follow the spiders

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nepenthendline · 4 years

Note

Heyyy, could you do a headcannon post for tsukki, kenma, suga, Kageyama, and kurro, and how they would go about proposing to their s/o. I love your writing btw!!! 💜

proposal hcs make me so sOFT, and thank you so much 🥺🥺🥺 It means a lot! I’m going to bury myself in these hcs to get rid of the stress my uni are giving me rn also kageyama’s is so long omg i got a little carried away

slight timeskip spoilers (kenma, sugawara, kageyama, kuroo)

Requests are open!

Proposal Headcanons - Tsukishima, Kenma, Sugawara, Kageyama and Kuroo

Tsukishima:

Tsukishima wasn’t one for extravagant publics displays of love and affection, so his proposal wouldn’t be either

he wanted it to be natural, not some crazy, over-the-top event that had everyone in the neighbourhood witnessing

it would be around 5-10 years (depending on how old you were when you started dating) of being together when Tsukishima decided he wanted to marry you, it’s not that he never thought about it, he just wanted to be sure this was the right decision for both of you

he had mentioned marriage to you one night a few months before proposing to test the waters and see your opinion so that he could gauge whether you would say yes or not

he took Yamaguchi with him to pick out a ring, he was great friends with you too so he knew your style and preferences well to help out Tsukishima

the proposal itself what somewhat planned, he knew the day he was going to do it but, other than that, he left it open to change

the two of you had gone for an evening walk across a pathway that overlooked the town, something you two do often to wind down

you two hadn’t spoke much, a comfortable, warm silence surrounding you besides pointing out the odd squirrel or brief check-ups on each others day

both of you had stopped at a railing on your walk, leaning against it to watch the sun set over the tall buildings

his hand was in yours, brushing his thumb over the back of it as he looked out to the view

“I love you (Y/N),” his voice was quiet but it seemed certain

he wasn’t the kind of man that told you he loved you multiple times a day, it was reserved for special moments and the times where he couldn’t get how lucky he was to have you out of his mind

“I love you too Kei,” you didn’t need to be loud, or shout your confession to the world to know that you both meant it deeply

“Marry me,” it sounded more like a instruction than a question and his gaze hadn’t left the sky

“W-what?” had you heard him wrong? was this a joke?

he turned his eyes to you, locking them with yours - this was the most serious and sincere you had ever seen him

“Marry me,” he repeated

you stood with your mouth slightly open, eyes wide as he pulled out a box from his pocket, opening it to display a simple, yet stunning ring

“I always thought that if you went for what you truly wanted, it would just end in pain and disappointment, that all the effort and sentiment would be for nothing, but with you it’s so easy. I might never be, but I want to become the best man for you, that you deserve, so marry me.”

Kenma:

gets married for tax purposes

marriage was not something Kenma had ever though about in his life growing up

he never thought he would get married or find someone he had a connection with and, honestly, he was fine with that

he didn’t really see the appeal of it in the first place

it wasn’t until many years down the line of being with you and his friends around him getting into relationships when he started to consider the possibility

the first time it came into his head was at Kuroo’s wedding

he spent most of the time wishing he could go home and get out of this uncomfortable suit, but there were times when he say Kuroo’s beaming smile that he was glad he came

some of the ex-nekoma team members had poked at him with questions of when he was going to get ‘hitched’, which he responded to with a sigh

he certainly wasn’t going to propose because others told him he needed to

the next time it crossed his mind was when he started a new game that his fans had recommended he play

it was a romance game which wasn’t his usual go-to genre, but it had incredible reviews and created a storm in the gaming world so he thought he might as well check it out

through the game he got to witness an endearing story of a couple that went at odds to be together

the story delved into their married life and all the little things they enjoyed together through the years

he didn’t really want to admit it, but it did make him feel a little emotional

he saw himself and you in the characters, as if he was watching his own life play out on his screen

every now and then you and Kenma played some games together so you could spend time with him and he could show you want had been interesting him lately, so he decided to show you this game

you thought it was adorable, so heartwarming yet a little sad at points, but you had always been a little more outwardly emotional then Kenma

“imagine if we got married haha, how cute would that be!” you gushed out in the moment without thinking as you played

“eh...I guess” it wasn’t really the answer you were hoping for, but at least he didn’t sound utterly disgusted by the thought

you continued to play with him for a while, tucked into his side and making comments every now and then

a particular endearing part was plating on the screen and your eyes shone as they fixated on the characters

he could tell by the glassy look that you were getting a little affected by the story, but you looked so cute

the way your lip pouted ever so slightly, and how you gripped at his hoodie, as if to steady yourself

he had a sudden rush of adoration for you, he really did love you and the last couple years of you living together had been wonderful, how he got to wake up beside you, do daily chores with you, how you supported him in his many careers

“Maybe we should get married,” he blurted out, you whipped your head towards him so fast you almost got whiplash

“Are you...proposing?” you questioned, with somewhat of a laugh in your voice

“huh...looks like I am.”

Sugawara:

Sugawara was sensible, mature, a little bit of a tease and sometimes chaotic if Daichi wasn’t watching but also traditional

he had often thought about what it would be like to grow up, get married and have a family

it wouldn’t take long before he knew he wanted to marry you, even throughout the 3 years you had already been together he had daydreamed about marrying you more times than he could count

from all the memories you had together, all the times you helped enough other in rough patches and the learning the two of you wanted to continue in the future had him certain that he wanted you beside him forever

so he set out his plan

he took his old teammates, Daichi and Asahi with him on a hunt to find the perfect ring

Daichi was there to keep him in check and calm his nerves, although Asahi was probably the most nervous and Asahi had a great eye for stylish, beautiful pieces due to his designing career

now it was time to plan

he didn’t want it to be crazy, but he wanted it to be something, a whole event in itself

so he scheduled a meal for the two of you and some of your friends

it was at quite a fancy restaurant in the evening and your group had its own secluded table at the back, surrounded with dividers from the rest of the restaurant

all of you spent the meal catching up and laughing, but Sugawara seemed a little quieter than usual

you had asked him if he was ok, but he just replied with an ‘of course!’ and a smile, so you let it be

Asahi was shaking but you put that off to general anxiety

you guys had ordered desserts and everyone had gotten theirs first

as the waiter brought yours over, the table went silent

the waiter came from your left, Sugawara on your right, so you had looked over as he came

as he set the plate down, you noticed the words spelled out in chocolate sauce

“Will you marry me?”

you gasped and turned towards Sugawara, who was now on one knee next to you, holding out an open ring box

“I have known for so long that I wanted to marry you. You’re beautiful, smart, courageous and so loving, and I want to have you by my side forever. I promise I will continue to grow as your partner and take care of you every step of the way, so, will you marry me?”

Kageyama:

the only thing in this boy’s brain is you and volleyball, its all his one braincell can cope with

that being said, he has never once thought about marriage

his whole life he has spend all his energy and focus on becoming a better player, the best setter he possibly can and standing on the court longer

but you were the first person to get him, to understand him and accept him as is while helping him improve and grow

you helped him to open up and communicate with people better

you helped him whenever he was frustrated with volleyball and a certain play he was working tirelessly on

you never once turned your back on him when he struggled or lost his temper

you were his partner, but it was different from a volleyball partner

he cared for you, every part of you, and always wanted to know if you were ok or spend time with you

you made him genuinely smile everyday and he knew that he wanted to be your partner for life

it came about when he was hanging out with Hinata on one of their rare days off to catch up

he had been talking about you constantly, expressing how much he loved you and adored you

“Why don’t you just marry them?” Hinata questioned with his held tilted, as if it was obvious

“w-what? Hinata boke!” he shouted as his face grew red and pushed Hinata aside

the two talked about it and Kageyama decided, very bashfully, that yeah, he should just marry you

but how does he ask you that?

he knew nothing about marriage or proposals, so he spend the next few weeks asking his friends, teammates, even his coach on how to propose to you

“Take them to an expensive restaurant!”

“Wouldn’t it be cute to propose in Disneyland??”

“Well, I proposed to my partner by sending them on a scavenger hunt”

he was bombarded with ideas, but none of them seemed right

none of them seemed like him

he was getting frustrated with the pressure of coming up with a good way to ask you to be his forever, it had to be perfect, it had to be special and it had to fit with your relationship

you noticed he was getting agitated a lot more recently, he was quieter and snapped more often, he stayed back later at the gym to train and he rarely ate dinner with you anymore

whenever you asked what the problem was, he replied with an ‘it’s nothing’ and stormed off

his teammates had noticed too and were less than pleased with his attitude as it affected their gameplay

one of his teammates had begged you to come to the gym and talk some sense into him when he started continuously overworking himself

it was 7pm when you set off from your house to the gym where he was still training

as you entered, you noticed that he was the only one here, hitting serve after serve that never seemed to land right

“Tobio,” you called out

“Baby,” you tried again but you couldn’t catch his attention from his deep focus on the ball

you walked over to him and lightly grabbed his arm, stopping him from serving the ball again

“Tobio, what’s wrong? Everyone is worried about you. Are you having trouble with a play? Because we can sort that out with your coach-”

he cut you off by mumbling something under his breath, much too quiet for you to hear

“What was that?”

“I want to ask you to marry me and I don’t know how,” he said louder this time, his eyes staring at the ball in his hand as he gripped it tightly

“O-oh, right...” you were stunned, speechless, this wasn’t something you thought you would hear from him

“Everyone’s been telling me how to do it, but none of them seem right,” his voice was low and his gaze still hadn’t let the ball

you put a finger under his chin and lifted his face towards you

“It doesn’t need to be what everyone else tells you, we can do things our own way,” you tried to comfort him with a smile and he simply stared back at you

“So go on then,” you were beaming at him by now, yet his face got even tighter with confusion

“Go on, ask me to marry you.”

his jaw hung wide open, his eyes seemed to be staring into your skull like he had seen a ghost, this is certainly not what he expected

he tried to speak a couple times, stumbling on his words as they got caught in his throat

“It’s ok, take your time,” you brushed your thumb over the back of his hand as you held it, encouraging him to continue

“w-will you....will...willyoumarryme?”

BONUS: you two picked out a ring together afterwards, this boy has no sense of style, don’t trust him by himself

Kuroo:

Kuroo had jokingly asked you to marry time multiple times throughout your relationship

the first couple times ended with you being a blushing mess while he teased you

but by now you just tell him to shut up go off sis

marrying you had always been part of the plan for him, just a natural progression of your relationship

while Kuroo can be quite the tease, he was extremely serious of his relationship with you and your future

he started off his plan by asking your dad if he would like to spend the day together, you know, father-son-in-law bonding time

what your dad wasn’t prepared for was Kuroo to turn up in a shirt, suit trousers and confess how he wanted to marry you

he had a whole speech prepared about how he would be the best husband for you, how he would be sure to take good care of you and, possibly, be the best father in the future if you planned to have children

you dad had to eventually shut him up as Kuroo kept going, saying how he would be delighted to have you marry the man

step one: check

now he needed to find the right ring

he had a look around at multiple stores but he couldn’t find anything that was unique enough to be called yours and that captured you or your relationship

since Kuroo had quite the high-paying job plus a little backing from a certain famous youtuber so the cost wasn’t an issue and he wanted to spoil you

so he got one custom made

he sat with a designer for hours creating the most stunning, distinctive ring that he knew you would love

step two: check

over the next couple days he planned a meet-up evening with your family and his where he would pop the question

you both had spent the day cooking and preparing for the evening before they all come to your house

you had all finished dinner and moved over to the living room to chat

Amidst all the chatter, Kuroo stood up and cleared his throat, grabbing everyone’s attention

“I have something I’d like to say,” he said with confidence, then turning to you with a grin

“The last few years with you have been perfect. We’ve had some ups and downs, but we have made so many amazing memories together. You really are my other half and I think everyday about how truly lucky I am to call you mine. You know me better than anyone else. I know I’ve asked you this a couple times in the past when we’re laughing together, but this time I’m serious,”

he got down on one knee, holding one of your hands while presenting the custom ring in the other

“will you do me the honour of marrying me?”

and the crowd goes wild

Tagging @togasknifes so she can read Kageyama ty ly

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dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

When I Needed You ~ MYG [Request] [M]

➟➟➟ Word Count:2.6K

➟➟➟ Genre: established relationship, smut, flashbacks with smutty ending, cute.

➟➟➟ Pairing: Min yoongi x Fem!Reader

"Jungkook! Put me down or I'm crying to Yoongi!" You squealed as JUngkook threw you over his shoulder, you were in the BigHit employee lounge with the BTS boys and TXT boys all of you joking around together. You were playing Just Dance but because you were winning Jungkook took it upon himself to start cheating at the game and picked you up to stop you playing.

"This is cheating! I demand a rematch! Namjoon! I can't believe you're encouraging this behaviour!" You yelled jokingly, Yoongi smirked from the sofa he was sitting on. Beomgyu and Soobin were sitting beside him watching everything unfold before them,

"You're lucky Hyung, she's one of the best." Yoongi smiled to himself once again thinking back on everything that you'd been through together over the last seven years. It felt like you were a part of BTS apart from the fact that you couldn't sing, dance or rap to save your own life, Yoongi would know since he'd been living with you for the last year. You'd been dating six years now and he still adored every day he had with you, spending every moment if it was his last. He wanted to make every day count towards your relationship. He thought back to the time he first met you and how much of an idiot he came across, he never wanted to be alone with you for the first couple of months and then whenever you were around one another he would turn into a stuttering mess, blushing every chance he got.

The hallway that led to the dorm was awful, it was dimly lit, the floor tiles were coming off and Yoongi was sure he could smell damp but he was willing to put this out. They could all pull together to make this work, it was just while they were training and Jungkook was at school, it was nothing that they couldn't handle.

"Yeah! Well, you're the one that's driving a wedge in this marriage!" He heard someone yell in the apartment next door to theirs, he grimaced as he heard a door open and shut and footsteps coming towards then. He assumed it would be another resident passing by to leave but he was shocked when he came face to face with you. You were covered in flour, your hair was a mess and you were wearing jeans and an apron,

"Hi, sorry! I erm...The landlord in this place sucks so I was trying to make today a nice one for you. I'm Y/n!" You shook each of their hands as they introduced themselves but when it came to Yoongi he choked up, he couldn't even remember how to talk let alone hold your hand and shake it like a normal functioning human.

"That's Yoongi," You smiled at the one who had introduced himself as Jungkook, you knew a lot of kpop idol trainees came to live in this building. It was closer to their schools and training centres for them, you also knew that this was one of the worst buildings to live in since you had been living there for the last three years of your life.

"You have the keys right, tell me he didn't forget that part?" Namjoon held up his keys and you smiled holding your hand over your chest relieved that the landlord hadn't forgotten their keys like he had yours when you first moved in.

"The couple upstairs, they stop after five minutes of fighting. Next door to you is empty so that's a bonus, I'm upstairs if you need anything and I mean it...Anything, get me out of that place. Erm...I'm making cookies right now and then I'm cooking myself dinner, I always make way too much so if you guys want something let me know-"

"We'd love food!" Jin shouted saving himself from cooking that night, you smiled brightly and Yoongi's heart began to pound. It was as if seeing your smile made the whole apartment building turn into a ray of sunshine, everything seemed better now you were there.

"What cookies?"

"Jungkook you have studying to do with Taehyung and Jimin," Hosoek said as he took the keys from Namjoon and unlocked the door,

"I'll bring them down when they're finished and you can give them to the boys whenever." You laughed and all of them agreed with you, letting you go back up to your apartment, you just reached the top of the stairwell when you heard,

"See you later!" From Yoongi, you giggled peeking through the bars to see him blushing and hitting his head as he forced his way into the apartment. He was cute.

From that day you'd gone to the apartment almost every night with meals and snacks for them, making sure they had everything they would ever need. Helping Jungkook studying for important exams and making sure that he went to bed on time instead of staying up late playing video games. You were like the mum of the group but it took a while for Yoongi to warm up to you, he eventually did and you grew close...right up until he kissed you and everything got awkward again.

"You're nervous?" You asked Yoongi as you stood backstage, it was the day of their debuted and he'd done nothing but pace back and forth the apartment all morning and was continuing to do the same in front of you right now, pacing around and staring at the floor as he did so.

"A little, I just I don't know if we're ready-" You grabbed his hand and he froze in place, thoughts about the debut stage and performing were flung from his brain like something in a catapult and he stared at your fingers interlocking with his.

"You guys are perfect, I've heard and seen you practice a million times. The song is amazing as well Yoongi, you guys did an amazing job." He nodded at you trying to think of something to say to you,

"Look just do what I do when I'm nervous," He urged you to continue on and you giggled,

"When I get nervous around people I don't know, I imagine them naked...people are a lot less intimidating that way." He blushed at the mere thought of you picturing him naked when you first met them and you looked over his shoulder at Namjoon,

"They're ready for you, you've got this! Okay?" He nodded at you and without thinking he let go of your hands and grabbed onto your arms and kissed you. His lips were on yours and you panicked but wrapped your arms around his neck, kissing him back and smiling against his lips. It was as if nothing was around you anymore, no pressures of his debut, no boys yelling at him to hurry up and get ready. Just you and Yoongi alone, kissing in the middle of nowhere.

"Good luck," Your voice came out hoarse as he pulled away and walked over to Namjoon, his mind racing with thoughts about what he'd just done and what he was about to go on stage to do, however, he was more nervous about the kiss with you than he was about the stage.

The kiss was never spoken about again, he went back to being the Yoongi that avoided you at all costs, coming across cold at times and ignoring you whenever you tried to speak to him directly. He hated treating you like it but it was the only way he could figure out his feelings for you.

"Hyung's in deep thought about Y/n," Soobin whispered to Kai who came over to see why Yoongi was staring at you and Jungkook, who still, evidently, hadn't put you down yet and he was running around the room now trying to get you to buy them all food that night.

The night Yoongi came back from their red bullet tour he dropped his bag at the front door of their apartment and went up to find you, he'd thought he could do this. He thought he could be just friends with you and move on from the kiss you'd shared back in 2013 but it was harder than he thought and he couldn't get you off his mind.

"Yoongi what are you-" His lips cut you off before you could even finish your sentence and he pushed you into your apartment, kicking the door shut with his foot and making out with you roughly. Your hands made their way into his hair and you tugged on the strands as he bent down to pick you up and carry you over to your kitchen side, he sat you down and pulled away.

"Welcome home." You panted looking deep into his eyes and he smiled back at you,

"Sorry I just-" He shut up once you kissed him again and pulled back, biting down on his bottom lip as you did so. You had done nothing but dream of that moment from the moment he first kissed you back in 2013 and you'd wanted him for so long,

"I missed you." You whispered as he stared up into your eyes,

"I missed you too," He was still trying to catch his breath from the unexpected kiss but he chuckled as he looked at you while he was blushing.

"I hope you don't welcome all of them home like that," You laughed at him and shook your head pushing your hand through his faded red hair,

"The red looked good on you," You whispered to him leaning your forehead on his and smiling as he started blushing.

The relationship between you had always been stable, there was never anything to knock it until it came to the Love Yourself tour, things got a little bit rougher because he was away longer and longer than he was before but you continued to pull through. You were in love with one another and nothing was going to stop that, not even a small amount of separation,

"What's going on?" He was pulled out from his daydream when you sat down on his lap and faced him, pushing his long black hair from his face and smiling.

"Nothing, I was just thinking about how much I love you." The boys all started to fake being sick, they always did this whenever Yoongi got sappy around them.

"Well how about we go home and you show me how much." You teased brushing your nose against his and squealing as he stood up, wrapping your legs around your waist and walking you out of the room without another word to anyone else sitting there.

"Yoongi? You sure you're okay?" You giggled and he nodded putting you down on the floor and walking with you towards the elevators,

"I was just thinking about how you're always there when I need you, and when I always needed you...You're always there for me." You smiled at him and he kissed you again softly, his hand resting on your cheek as he brought you closer to him.

"I need you Yoongi," You whispered to him as you felt him growing as you stood in the elevator making out, he pressed you against the wall and groaned.

"I need you too baby but wait until we get home," You let a whine to let him know you didn't want to but he kissed your cheek and pulled you out onto the ground floor.

Your back was against the bed as you made out heavily in your shared bedroom,

"Yoongi," You whined when he pulled away from you, he chuckled at how needy you were for him and he started kissing down your neck, taking off your shirt and then his own.

"Shh, we're not rushing anything tonight, I want to make love to you...Show you how much I love you." You felt your cheeks heat up as the words left his mouth and you giggled when he began kissing you once again, his hand trailing down the front of your trousers and into your panties.

"Do you want me that bad baby? You're dripping," You whimpered as he slipped a digit into you making you moan out in relief, you'd needed him all day but kept it to yourself since he was busy with work.

"My needy little baby,"

"Y-Yes, so needy." You whispered and he chuckled kissing down your neck as he slowly pumped one finger in and out of you before adding a second one and speeding up his pace, angling his hand so his palm would come into contact with your clit.

"Yoongi!" You moaned out and he chuckled as he felt you clench around him and buck up your hips, he could already tell you were close and he hadn't even started yet. He sped up his fingers wanting you to cum so badly, he loved to look at the fucked out face you pulled whenever he made you cum,

"S-Shit, Yoongi! I'm g-gonna!" You could barely get the words out as you hips bucked up and your orgasm washed over you sending a warm feeling throughout your entire body.

"Suck," Yoongi ordered giving you his fingers, you took them into your mouth and began sucking on them as though they were his cock and he let out a strangled moan as he released himself from his trousers. You removed his fingers with a pop and went to take him into your mouth but he laid you back down and lined himself up at your entrance, running his swollen tip over your folds making you whine and clench around nothing.

"Don't tease me Yoongi, I've needed you all day." You pouted and he smirked at you, running his thumb over your bottom lip as you pouted it out.

"Why didn't you come into my studio earlier baby, we could have had some fun then."

"Because you were- Ugh fuck!" Your sentence was interrupted by a scream as he slammed into your the head of his cock hitting your sweet spot as he did so.

"Shit, you're so warm, babe." He groaned as he pulled out of you only to slam back inside at a vigorous pace not even giving you time to adjust to him, you whimpered as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder to reach deeper into you.

"S-Shit right there." You cried out feeling him hit your spot over and over again with ease. He smirked driving himself harder into you as you cried out his name and clutched onto the bedsheets.

"Yoongi!" You whimpered as his hand that wasn't holding onto your hip travelled down to your clit and began rubbing your sensitive clit in circles. He continued to pound into you,

"You want to cum again? I've only just started princess," His voice came out as a grunt as he felt you clenching around him, it was like a vice.

"Shit, so tight around me princess, like a vice." He bit down on his lip as he hammered in and out of you. You couldn't form words but from the way, your back was arching away from the mattress and you couldn't stop smiling he knew you were close, whenever you got close you would start giggling and he loved it.

"Cum for my princess," He whispered in your ear, your heart thumped against your chest and started to contract around Yoongi's cock making him grunt. Then all of a sudden the familiar feeling of falling off a cliff and into a pile of ecstasy hit you as your orgasm washed over your body making you cry out his name,

"Fuck." He moaned out as he came inside of you, falling beside you as he pulled out and started chuckling.

"I love you." You giggled turning over and laying your head on his chest,

"Love you too princess."

Tagline:

@writingdreamsnottragedies @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @jooniesdarlingdimples @fan-ati--c @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel @rjsmochii @btsiguess-kpop @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie

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breitzbachbea · 3 years

Note

📓?? 👀

Okay, okay, okay, so -

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

The Ancient Olympics AU (which I talked about with @crispyliza )

This AU came into being after I relistened to the "The Ancient Olympics" episode of the history/comedy podcast "You're Dead To Me". It had the interesting information that a lot of Olympic winners actually came from Sicily & South Italy! So naturally I began to wonder what might have happened if my Sicilians ended up in Olympia ...

Dramatis Personae:

- Michele Vento (APH Sicily, my OC) as Trainer of the Bontade Twins - Marco & Lorenzo Bontade (Human OCs of mine) as Athletes from Syracuse - Herakles Karpuzi (APH Greece) as Athlete from Athens - Timothea Simonides (Human OC) as Herakles' Trainer - Omar Simonides (Human OC) as ... Good question? Co-Trainer to Thea ig

The Happenings™:

- Lorenzo and Marco want to compete in the upcoming Olympics as runners. Michele,probably a distant relative to them who lives close, becomes their trainer.

- The Sicilians roll up to Olympia, most likely a few days early because travelling is an adventure in these days and it doesn't hurt to have a few extra days to get accustomed to the terrain.

- Michele also definitely loses the Bontade twins 10 minutes after arriving at the sanctuary bc he wasn't looking for 0.5 seconds. So now he lost his boys at a place that currently contains approximately half of Magna Graecia.

- The reason he wasn't paying attention? Some athletes were preparing themselves nearby, bucknaked of course. Amongst them Herakles. Michele has always been a sucker for strong arms and legs, so that plus Herakles' beautiful face has him swooning from the get go.

- After he recollects his twins, they spend the next few days training, as do the other athletes, which is when Herakles notices Michele's looks.

- Christina (crispyliza) had the galaxy brain idea that Herakles intentionally flirts with Michele to sabotage the Bontades success at the games. It's an idea that he comes up with together with the Simonides - to be completely fair, it was probably Timothea's. Omar: "My, looks like you've got a fanboy." Herakles: "And what a pretty one at that." Timothea: "He seems to be a bit shy about it, though. Or maybe he's actually after those twin brothers?" (They figure out he's the Bontades trainer) Timothea: "Oh, he's a trainer! Pretty sucky at his job though if he's oogling the competition so much." Omar: "All the better for us, though." Timothea: -oil lamp ignites over her head bc light bulbs aren't invented yet-

- While we're at the Simonides: This was before it was mandatory for everyone to be naked, so Timothea managed to sneak into the games by posing as a man. Omar helps her with it, since he's trans and thusly got experience. Christina also had the hilarious idea of them having fake beards, which is just, YES. Timothea definitely cut her hair and they made whatever beard is in fashion in Athens at the time out of them. Their mother Natasa used to be a famed winner of the Heraea, the woman's games also held in Olympia.

- So let the games GreSic flirting begin

- The Problem: Michele doesn't want his boys to think he's betraying them for a rival athlete. He also really wants Herakles to rail him. The Solution: Find ways to be sneaky and secretive about it so the twins don't have to find out. Here is one of the possible scenarios I had for this: "When I first thought about this, I also had this scene in my head. Idk how accurate it works, bc it involves a tent and in the ydtm episode they didn't mention how people were housed during the games. (Like, I am sure there were guest houses, the temples probably offered some places to sleep, both of that but in upscale fancy for all the rich and important people attending yadda yadda.) Do you know that trope(?) when someone has sex but is trying to hide it? That. Just Michele sticking his head out of the tent, clutching at the fabric to keep everything else closed. Tells his twins, who looked for him, he is kind of busy rn. Tries is best to hide the fact of what is actually happening and to make them leave. It works. Kind of. Because as soon as they are gone, Michele sighs with a :| look and tells Hera to stop. "But why?" "Because you would have to nail every corner of this tent down and then they'd still find a way to spy!" Which is exactly what the twins ARE doing. They are trying their best to get an unnoticed peak from one place of the tent. But because it has to be subtle, all they get to see is feet and they either don't hear them or don't recognize Herakles' voice. I don't think he is the person to go out of his way to pick on people or pick fights in general, so they probably haven't had much interaction. So Michele smoothes out his chiton annoyed and leaves the tent, to then just stomp around enough for the twins to notice him and pretend they weren't doing what he knew they were doing."

- One day however, Marco & Lorenzo are missing their trainer and can't find him. They run into Thea & Omar, who are missing their athlete. Hm. Weird. Wonder what's that all about :)

- They end up catching Michele and Herakles in the act, just out there somewhere underneath a tree, which, naturally, makes the Bontades VERY upset. Lorenzo: "What do you think you are doing?!" Omar, in his head: 'Herakles, obviously.' Marco: "He's the COMPETITION, Michele!" Both: "You've left us all alone for THAT?!" Since the Simonides were in on the whole thing, they're not surprised just disappointed that Herakles vanished without a heads up. "Well, that ain't sprinting practice."

- The most hilarious thing is that could not even tell you who wins the race. I didn't even think about that part until yesterday. I'm kind of particular to the thought that it's somewhat of a photo finish with the three of them, but the twins come out on top. Since there can only be one winner, they flippantly let one of them be chosen by the equivalent of a coin toss. So technically, either Marco or Lorenzo has won, but they keep both parading around with the wreath and insist that the inscription to them mentions them both as winners. Now, if they got their way is another story, I didn't read any academic articles on this at. all.

- Second place is as good as last in the Ancient Greek world, but Herakles takes the loss in stride. Timothea is probably the one who's most upset. Marco: "Hah, so all your flexing - " Lorenzo: "and all your fucking for nothing in the end!" Michele: "Hey, I'd like to think I'm a reward in and of myself, not an obstacle."

Sequel Bait:

- Back home in Siracusa, Michele gets asked if he doesn't want to train his cousins, too. The ones from Neapolis. The ones Michele can't stand. However, his mother talks him into it and he agrees. Extra funny because Lovino & Feliciano were also talked into it by THEIR parents. So Michele spends the next four years butting heads with Lovino, knowing fully well their mother will rip his head off if they don't do well. Lovino is of course hiding his giant insecurities about disappointing his loving father & mother behind snark. Michele will arrive at Olympia with four athletes in two this time and looks like he aged 40, not 4 years from all the stress.

- Herakles is no competition this time, though! He wants to try his hand at wrestling this year. However, very quickly after his arrival, he butts heads with a fellow wrestler from one of the Greek colonies in Asia minor. Only thing's more annoying than his big mouth, which he shares with his wrestling buddy, are probably the flirtations coming out of it & Herakles can't wait to show him his place. (Yes, I do know that the Turkish people came into the area that is modern day Turkey far, far later, he should be of another ethnicity [and he gotta be Greek to participate, anyways] but. Is any of you really going to deny me Herakles and Sadık wrestling, bucknaked, covered in oil? I'd hope the fuck not.)

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Mortal Kombat and the Man Who Gave Sub-Zero a Soul

https://ift.tt/3rEA11N

Mortal Kombat’s Joe Taslim (aka Sub-Zero) is one of the hottest martial artists on screen right now. It’s been a decade since his breakout film The Raid took the world by storm, and Taslim has consistently delivered high-octane action with dashing panache ever since. As movie martial arts masters go, few others are on Taslim’s level. While most action stars have some martial arts training in their bag of tricks, Taslim is more invested than most.

Prior to The Raid, Taslim was a professional Judo athlete and a member of Indonesia’s National Judo team from 1997 to 2009. He won gold medals at the Southeast Asia Judo Championships and the Indonesian National Games. No other actor can boast a competitive record like this. What’s more, Taslim is also trained in Wushu and Taekwondo, and he picked up Pencak Silat for The Raid, so his combative range goes far beyond Judo throws and falls.

The Raid was a game-changer for the martial arts genre. It placed Indonesia firmly on the map when it comes to action films, delivering relentlessly unflinching action and intensely complex fight choreography, held together with a threadbare plot. If martial arts movies are compared to porn films, The Raid was hardcore. The film spawned a sequel which picked up the action right where it left off in the original. In addition to Taslim, the franchise also introduced a stable of Indonesian action stars to Hollywood including Iko Uwais (Mile 22 and the upcoming Snake Eyes: G.I. Joe Origins) and Yayan Ruhian (Star Wars: The Force Awakens, John Wick: Chapter 3).

Taslim moved on to Hollywood too. Two years after The Raid, he landed the role of Jah in Fast & Furious 6, followed by an appearance in Star Trek Beyond. But he never abandoned his country and continued to deliver films made in Indonesia specifically for that market. Most notable was The Night Comes For Us, which reunited Taslim with Uwais. Although an Indonesian production, The Night Comes For Us gained worldwide exposure after it was picked up by Netflix. He also starred as the villain in the South Korean film, The Swordsman, and became more recognizable to Western audiences audiences by playing the conflicted Tong hitman Li Yong in the Bruce Lee inspired series, Warrior.

Now Taslim is at the forefront of another predominantly Asian cast for the new Hollywood feature film, Mortal Kombat. And he is donning yet another villain mask as Sub-Zero.

“Sub-Zero is just an amazingly powerful, iconic character,” says director Simon McQuoid. McQuoid’s film explores the inbuilt rivalry between Sub-Zero and Scorpion coming out of the original video games. The connection between Sub-Zero (real name: Bi-Han) and Scorpion delves deep into Mortal Kombat lore, and within the film, McQuoid says this is symbolized by a bloody kunai (ninja ring dagger) which plays a critical role throughout the film.

“Blood is such a [vital] ingredient in Mortal Kombat,” explains McQuoid, “but we wanted to make it feel more than just blood splurts. We wanted it to have a blood line and lineage meaning to blood as well. We liked the idea that we could tell an emotional version of that blood story.” Just like the fighting game, Mortal Kombat is evenly split between good guys and bad guys, but ultimately Sub-Zero becomes the standout villain in the film.

“Once we got Joe,” beams McQuoid, “then we knew he was going to be a pretty kick-ass character because Joe’s so fantastic.”

Den of Geek had a video chat with Joe Taslim while he was home in Indonesia.

Den of Geek: Was the Mortal Kombat video game popular in Indonesia?

Yeah, I think it was 1995 when the first one released. I was actually not in the capital. I was born on the small island in South Sumatra, in Palembang, that’s my home city. So, I remember when the game came out and people talked about the game because it’s unusual because it was so violent. And it’s still violent now. So it was popular until now. But unfortunately, MK11 got banned because Indonesia is very sensitive of the violence level in that game where it’s just like funny now. The censorship here is like, “Oh, this is too much for Indonesia, so probably not.” So a lot of people played the game by downloading it. They know how to do it.

Did you play?

I played MK11, MKXL, yeah.

What challenged you the most about taking on Sub-Zero?

Well, the fans know Sub-Zero is badass, kick-ass, so much swagger, and a lot of attitude. But as an actor, the challenge for me to be in his shoes is to give him more soul, to give more heart, to make this character live. The fight is a visual. People enjoy the fight. But to bring people to feel inside the fight is something else, it means that you got to give more. You got to give the intention. You got to give a story, without delivering any lines, that people can see. Is he losing? Or does he know he’s going to die? Or is he very confident?

Jet Li did an amazing job in his movies to deliver those attitudes—the story of the fight. So I learned from him and I learned from The Raid, The Night Comes for Us, and I just bring everything to Mortal Kombat. There’s a lot of stories in that final fight. You can see the character is just dynamic—what he’s feeling, the way he fights, he’s just getting slower and slower. He’s just catching his breath.

So that’s the most important thing in fights, in my opinion. Because a lot of people think a fight scene needs to be badass, kick-ass. That’s number two. But number one is you got to be inside the shoes and know what’s going on inside this character first. Then when you visualize the fight, it makes sense.

How was it working with the mask?

Ooh. Well, it took me a while to adapt because it’s a heavy costume. And the mask, kind of like, well I have the mask. [Taslim holds up his Sub-Zero mask]

Ooh.

Well, the awkward thing about the mask, because when you move, the mask doesn’t move because it was a solid mask. So it was quite technical. If I have to move really fast, sometimes my face moves with like a delay. You see the mask kind of follow in slow-mo. We did a lot with this—put a lot of straps here just to make when I move really fast, so the mask could follow. A lot of technical stuff happened in the process, but yeah, it was a fun journey to just discover the best look, the best fit for the mask, the costume for me to be able to fight the best.

How was your experience fighting with all those special effects?

I think this is my first [movie] that involved the supernatural. The superpower stuff in previous movies, it was like a man versus a man or a man versus five men. But in this one, a lot of imagination is involved for sure. I’m glad I’m a gamer myself. I played a lot. I’m used to being a daydreamer. I’m still daydreaming until now. I have this mind that I like to have fun with. So during the shooting [when] it’s involving something they’re going to add in post, they ask me just to imagine, which I love imagining things.

I had so much fun just imagining the sword and creating the icicle—the ice sword—because it wasn’t there. Everything is in post. So I was just like, “Sure, believe that it’s there. It’s there.” You don’t see it, but I know it’s there. When the camera captured that moment, and if I believe in it, then I think everybody’s going to believe in it as well.

Movies

Mortal Kombat: The Challenges of Making the Movie Reboot

By Gene Ching

Movies

Mortal Kombat: Why the Movie Created New Main Character Cole Young

By Gene Ching

I really loved your role in The Swordsman. And I got to be honest with you, because I’ve been following you, and I was surprised that I didn’t recognize you for quite a long time in this film.

Really?

It wasn’t until I recognized your eyebrows. You’re playing a lot of villains now. Do you like playing villains?

I was a good guy in The Raid and The Night Comes for Us, but yeah. Playing villains is interesting. Because as an actor, you know when you play a villain role, almost there’s no limitation because there’s no rules. [There’s no] you cannot do this, you cannot do that, because you’re the protagonist. “You have to speak this way because you cannot be evil when you speak—you’ve got to be polite.”

When you play a villain, there’s so much freedom. In The Swordsman, I remember I had so much freedom. And the director, he was just like, “What do you think about the role?” I say, “I don’t want to sound like this. I’m going to change my voice.” I’m going to do that because he’s a nomad and he’s from Qing dynasty. He’s Manchurian, and their language is like almost from the throat. I want to deliver that. I want people to see that genetically, when people speak through the throat, they’re going to sound different.

So all those freedoms that you have as an actor, and the director gave you the freedom to do those stuff, it’s a blessing. Because it’s just so easy for the director to just say “no,” and now you’re in trouble. And you’re just a puppet. “Do this, go there from there. And don’t smile. Don’t do anything.” That’s the nightmare for an actor to work in that condition.

How was it for Mortal Kombat? Were you given a lot of leeway with Sub-Zero?

A lot! Simon [McQuoid], he’s amazing. With almost everything, we’re on the same page. I came up to him almost every morning because we stayed in the same hotel, and he’s actually on the same floor with me. So before, I bothered him a lot. And I know he was busy. I need to ask something. I want to do this. I want to do that. I want to have this layer of him when he’s doing this, he’s doing that. So he was like, “Do that. I love it. It’s brilliant. We’re on the same page.” So it reached the point, I think half of the movie, he just looked at me, I just looked at him. Sometimes we just looked at each other, and we understand we’re on the same page. It was a beautiful relationship with him.

Do you feel that you captured Sub-Zero in a way that you wanted to represent him? Was he a character that you played when you played the game?

Probably different because in a game, people probably like more Kuai Liang, the brother. I think the Mortal Kombat 11, it’s more about Kuai Liang [the original Sub-Zero’s brother], and Bi-Han’s already a new cyborg. But I’m happy with what I saw. I’m happy that this anti-hero character, even though it’s a very thin layer here and there, but I gave it on screen. I gave [a lot to] Bi-Han/Sub-Zero. And probably people don’t know, but there are a lot of layers that I gave to this character. People need to see the pain of him. In the beginning of the fight, when he’s inside the house, for me, I look at this boy and it reminds me of my brother, Kuai Liang. That’s why I smile at him.

And then I just realized that my destiny for this family is to wipe them all. So those small thin layers here and there that I gave in this character, it’s there. They didn’t cut it. Everything is there. I’m so happy that I know when people watch it the second time, they will probably pick up a little bit of that here and there.

I remember Jax—Mehcad [Brooks]—said “You’re a bad guy. You killed a boy. But somehow I feel you. Somehow, I feel so weird, but I feel empathy for your character.” And then I was like, “Okay, that’s it. That’s the goal. That’s what I wanted to do.” Because Sub-Zero/Bi-Han is a dark character. But tragic things happened to him when he was a kid. He got abducted. It’s by force, to become an assassin, to be part of Lin Kuei assassins, because he didn’t choose that path.

It was destiny [that chose to put him on] that path. And then for him, well, while a lot of people probably look for the light, he is just the kind of person to say, “It’s too late. I’m just going to be who I am.”

Mortal Kombat premieres in theaters and on HBO Max on April 23, 2021

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charredbrie · 4 years

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Kurobas Valentine’s Day Event 2020 Day 3: MidoTaka

Special thanks again to @vanilla-daydreams and @theuglycrybaby <3

Day 3: MidoTaka - Flowers/You’re beautiful, you know that?

Summary: Shin-chan is being very difficult these past few days and Takao is getting frustrated.

Title: Valentines’ Language

Rating: T for cursing

Also on Ao3

“Shin-chaaaaan~”

Kazunari calls on the tall boy walking way ahead in front of him as he tries his best to catch up with his steps in comparison to Shin-chan’s long strides. Most of the time, it is a curse for being shorter than Shin-chan especially when he looks down on him. It is alright if it’s a normal stare. However, most of the time, Shin-chan will just stare down at him as if saying if looks can kill, he’d be six feet underground by now. He shudders at the thought. No, he doesn’t want to die yet. There’s no way in hell he’ll die before he can do all his wildest fantasies to Shin-chan.

He'd been wracking his brain real hard on how to get Shin-chan’s sweet yet dangerous yes for a date without him really knowing that it is actually a date. But as you can see, the boy is just ignoring him. This has been going on for a few days now. He dashes towards him and settles on walking beside the tall boy and says, “Shin-chan, are you getting deaf now? I’ve been calling you for a while now. Maybe Oha Asa will think of giving Cancers a hearing aid as a lucky item.”

He heard his companion just sighs heavily before speaking, “What do you need, Takao?”

He grins happily, already feeling like winning as he can see that Shin-chan’s guarded walls are disappearing little by little. “I just wanna hang out with you this Friday! We don’t have any basketball practice because the third years are using the gym for their grade meeting.”

Shin-chan pushes his glasses with his left fingers before he halts his steps and looks at him.

“Don’t you have something to do on Friday, in fact?”

Now he’s confused. Why is Shin-chan saying that?

“Why would you think that?”

Shin-chan just brushes him off as he continues walking but not before saying, “I’m going to practice.” Now, he is so confused. What the fuck is wrong with this tsundere and why is he acting cold? He snaps out of his thoughts as he chases after the guy and holds his arm to stop him further from walking.

“What the hell is your problem, Shin-chan?! Why are you being so cold?”

The taller guy just hisses dangerously. “Let go of my arm, Takao.”

“No. Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on to that green head of yours.”

“Shut up, fool.”

Instead of letting him go, Takao just pulls the taller boy in an empty room that happens to be the music room. However, the taller guy is resisting so strongly that Kazunari feels like his strength is slipping away so fast. He looks at Shin-chan with a pouting face and says, “Just stop resisting and tell me what is your problem. Is it because I didn’t give you a ride on the rickshaw this morning?”

Shin-chan avoids meeting his gaze for a while until he speaks, “No, something as shallow as that is not my cup of tea, in fact. I am very well capable of going to school by myself.”

Kazunari is getting frustrated by each moment. Why can’t this guy just be honest with his feelings? He then hears Shin-chan sighs as he walks towards the grand piano and starts playing. At first, Kazunari becomes bewildered why the sudden urge to play the piano but as he is listening to the melody, a thought has hit him.

Shin-chan is playing the Love Theme for Romeo and Juliet - A Time for Us. He knows that piece, their class just recently watch a play of Romeo and Juliet in the audiovisual room. Suddenly, he gets pulled into the melody and moves closer by the grand piano. What he doesn’t notice is the fact that Shin-chan is looking at him all the while. Being himself, he just doesn’t turn down a challenge and has decided to meet his eyes as well. However, in Kazunari’s case, he’s being pulled into Shin-chan’s wholeness as a person plus add the fact that he’s playing this really beautiful and emotional melody. On the spur of a moment, he feels like he opens the magnificent door of shoujo manga and Shin-chan is waiting for him in the middle of the room as he is playing the piano. He doesn’t know whether to cringe or to be happy with his thoughts because, in the first place, he is a guy. The only hitch is that he chooses to fall in love with an enigma called Midorima Shintarou.

He gazes lovingly on his face especially his eyes that are surrounded with long lashes but are always covered by his thick-rimmed glasses. Beautiful, he thinks.

They stay like that until Shin-chan finishes the piece. And him being the loudmouth as he is, he unintentionally mutters.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?”

He wakes up from his shoujo blither fantasy when he hears the creaking of the chair as Shin-chan abruptly stands up and his face is so red. Kazunari panics a bit, afraid that the taller boy might brush him off again because of his comment.

He looks down on the ground, afraid of meeting the taller boy’s eyes. “S-Shin-chan…”

He hears him groans painfully as if he is really having a hard time speaking to him. In the end, he hears him takes a deep breath and says,

“You have a girlfriend now, right?”

Kazunari shots his head up as fast as lightning to look at Shin-chan. And at that moment, he finally gets what seems to be Shin-chan’s problem. He can’t help but laugh out loud as the taller boy becomes beet red as he puts his left hand on his face, attempting to cover the redness but he can see that even his ears are getting red so it is a very futile attempt. He clutches his stomach to laugh some more until Shin-chan can’t take it anymore.

“Y-You imbecile! Stop laughing.”

“Hahahahaha….hah…Sh-Shin-chan…HAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!!”

He can already feel his eyes getting wet because of laughing too much but he urges himself to stop. When his laughter has died down, he faces the guy.

“Shin-chan…sometimes you can be stupid you know?”

“W-what?!”

“Is the one you’re getting jealous-“

“I’m not jealous!!!”

“…of, is our classmate, Ichinose-san?” He waits for Shin-chan to say anything but it feels that he is just rooted there, unable to retort. He will accept any response even if it’s a first-rate sarcasm. Anything…as long as it comes from him. They stay there for a whole minute without saying anything and he is already accepting the fact that he won’t even get any response as he lumps his shoulders, his face full of bitterness. But he gets the shock of his life when he hears Shin-chan’s silent murmurs of, “Y-Yeah…in fact.”

The moment he hears that he glomps on him much to the dismay of the taller boy but nonetheless, awkwardly returns the hug. He looks up at Shin-chan, still not letting him go and slyly says, “You know, it’s not bad to be honest sometimes, Shin-chan. Also, with regards to Ichinose-san, her brother is working at a company that is making the games that I’m currently playing so I am just asking her some stuff.”

“S-Shut up, Takao. I didn’t ask for any explanation. This is all your fault.”

“Don’t worry, Shin-chan, you can execute all your hidden fantasies with me as much as you want, I won’t mind, really.” He chirps happily as the taller boy smacks him playfully on his head.

“You are getting deranged, in fact.”

He smugly says, “No, you just silently admitted that you like me when you conceded being jealous.”

Shin-chan just emits a long, sufferable sigh. “You haven’t even asked me ou-“

They are suddenly interrupted when the music room door suddenly opens to reveal Miyaji, Kimura, and Otsubo. Both of them haven’t had the time to move out of each other’s embrace as they are rooted in their position in shock as their senpais enter the room.

“Oi, first years! Stop flirting and get to practice!” Miyaji-senpai yells at them and that is the only time that they jerk away from each other, both of them red on the face.

Kimura-senpai just looks at them with confusion while Otsubo-senpai just groans in frustration while nursing his head for a coming headache.

“Fucking first years.” - Miyaji Kiyoshi

Omake

Valentine’s Day comes and Kazunari is frustrated as fuck because of the fact he and Shin-chan haven’t finished their conversation yet with regards to their status. No thanks to their senpais, of course. And now, he is walking on the way to Shin-chan’s house to pick him up. Yes, he is walking because he doesn’t feel like pulling the rickshaw today. He doesn’t want Shin-chan to see him all sweaty this early morning, duh, just because today is v-day. His thoughts are interrupted as he sees an elderly lady about to cross the street and she is carrying a big picnic basket. Deciding to help her, he trudges closer and approaches the elderly and it earns him a smile and a pat on his head. Together, they cross the street with him supporting her and as thanks, the lady takes out something from the basket and gives him a handful of white little flowers that he doesn’t know the name. Smiling at the gesture, he continues on his way until he reaches the Midorima’s residence. Upon arriving there, Shin-chan is already outside, leaning by the wall and when the taller boy sees approaching him, his eyes widen not entirely on him but on what he is holding.

“Morning, Shin-chan!”

“Takao….those flowers. How did you get them?”

“Huh? Oh, this?”

“Did you know that Baby’s Breath is Cancer’s lucky item for today?”

He shakes his head as he looks at the flowers that he’s holding then to Shin-chan. He holds out the flowers for him to take but he sees that the other boy is quite hesitant. He scratches his head on confusion, “Just take it, Shin-chan.”

The taller boy blushes but he is still not getting the flowers from his hand.

“Do you even know what Baby’s Breath flowers mean?”

“No. I’m not into floral language.”

A small smile appears on Shin-chan’s face as he takes the flowers from his hand and starts walking ahead of him then halts when he is a few steps away, his back still facing him while he is still rooted in his place.

“It means pureness, innocence and….everlasting love. You just confessed to me through this flower, Takao.”

Kazunari just blinks as his brain processed what Shin-chan has said. When his brain has finally registered it, he goes after the boy in pure bliss as he pulls the taller boy’s head down to him and gives him a quick peck on the lips. “Shin-chaaaan~ I love you~”

Too startled by his sudden vulgar action in Shin-chan’s vocabulary to even move, the taller boy just can’t do anything but blush.

NOTE: I tried doing MidoTaka. Not really my cup of tea but I feel that this prompt is perfect for them. Also, please excuse my poor attempt of cheesy situations and humor.

Thanks for reading <3

#knbvdaychallenge2020 #midotaka #midorima x takao #midorima shintarou #takao kazunari #miyaji kiyoshi #ootsubo taisuke #kimura shinsuke #shin-chan being so tsuntsun #piano playing #flower language #fanfic #prompt #headcanon #knb fanfic

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dxmagedrose · 4 years

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GET TO KNOW THE BLOGGER!

Tagged by: my lover @hammurabicomplex I’m tagging: anyone and everyone who wants to pick this one up! share with the class if you feel like it! tag me in it!!

PRESENTING. RANDOM DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO-MUN AT 2AM ;

FIRST NAME Good fucking question… It’s (sort-of) currently Dylann! I was Kieran before that, though; it’s still used as one of my first names and I’m not used to Dylann quite yet bc I’ve just started using it.

Indigo is one of my middle names though, and I’ve used it as an online handle elsewhere forever so I use it here now! [ Fun etymology facts: Dylan(n) is a mythology name generally meaning “born of the wave” (aspiring diver & a water witch at heart). Kieran means “little dark one” bc of my love for horror, && I chose Indigo bc as a kid to be it was neither boy (blue) or purple (girl) and was both and neither as well as my absolute favorite color as this vibrant ass mystical color. ]

STRANGE FACT ABOUT YOURSELF hmmmmm…. I’m a horror lover at heart, so as a child (I wanna say 12), I was walking through an antique store (I have a few cool finds, I considered putting my other one as the fact tbh) and I turned the corner and I saw these two dolls staring back at me at the foot of the stairs of this antique building. my blood froze, and i felt my stomach drop. i got actual, physical goosebumps stumbling across these two creepy dolls staring back at me in the corner, and i couldn’t leave the store without them. perhaps the little painted porcelain boy would be somewhat spooky by himself if it wasn’t for the terrifying lidded gaze of the porcelain girl with the hairline fractures and slightly open lips. i cant look at her. i dont really find dolls scary, I like to find the spookier ones ones, and she makes me paranoid as hell. i keep her face covered and her up in my closet except for when i bring her out to show her off proudly as the spookiest thing I have but……. i dont really collect dolls anymore. even thinking about her brings a fearful tear to my eye. i don’t like to think about her for very long, but that’s why I’m so fucking proud to own her. ( YES — I’m THAT white person in the horror film )

TOP THREE PHYSICAL THINGS YOU FIND ATTRACTIVE ON A PERSON hhhhh a beardy jawline, high cheekbones, crooked canine teeth >:3c

A FOOD YOU COULD EAT FOREVER AND NOT GET BORED OF b.l.t.’s with avocado. ahhhh. my mouth is watering just thinking about it, oh my god. just a bit of salt and pepper???

A FOOD YOU HATE barbecue anything, i hate the taste of bbq sauce, you keep your nasty black goo to yourselves at the grill. twice in my life i have presented with barbecue pizza and both times i cried literal tears. why would you do such a horrible thing to a person? what kind of a monster are you? how do you sleep at night?!

GUILTY PLEASURE the sims. constantly. always. i’ve sunk thousands of hours into my households. oh also uhhhhhh i run two 80s horror blogs, one being a shitpost blog with occasional art of mine and one gremlin fanfic ship blog for horrible, terrible self indulgent fanfics i’ll get the courage to finish writing & post so i can be cancelled on tumblr for at some point. NO, i won’t link them. as i pretend they’re even all that hard to find, within a day i was found on both by someone i admire here a lot :’) ilu bby thnk u eternally for supporting ur local horrifying dumbass wtf

WHAT DO YOU SLEEP IN the same clothes i’ve been wearing all day usually, my sweats & long sleeve raglans or my hoodies. i like being cozy day & and out. and ugh. efoort. just throw me in a blanket in a cool room and im out.

SERIOUS RELATIONSHIPS OR FLINGS serious relationships with some openness or poly. i wish i could fling! just not exactly easy for demisexual autistics lmao.

IF YOU COULD GO BACK IN THE PAST AND CHANGE ONE THING ABOUT YOUR LIFE, WOULD YOU AND WHAT WOULD IT BE I think I would be adopted by my grandma as a kid. It would save me some trauma but mostly I think it would get my autism diagnosed way earlier and save me angsting all these years of wondering why & thinking it’s my fault I’m struggling so much and so loud and affectionate and different in a world that i didnt fit in the same way.

ARE YOU AN AFFECTIONATE PERSON when i get drunk i text people how much they mean to me in my life. does that answer your question? ahhh. i’m sometimes a cuddle monster with friends, i message people with long texts about how much they mean to me, but I sometimes really don’t like to be touched at all.

A MOVIE YOU COULD WATCH OVER AND OVER AGAIN FLYPAPER. F L Y P A P E R. FLYPAPER. FLY, and, I can’t stress this enough, fucking PAPER. ( Though also Whole Nine Yards and both Re-Animator & Bride ). I have watched Flypaper already like, 5 times this week and I’m still not done, and the other movies have been on repeat for days in this household within the last year. In the past it has also been Donnie Darko & the new Nightmare on Elm Street. roast me.

FAVORITE BOOK White Fang by Jack London. Have I actually ever finished it? No. Do I still own a copy I’ve had since childhood thru multiple dogs eating it, taking it to and from school, and highlighting and circling all the best parts of chapter one ever since I was a kid and it was too hard of a book for me to read? You bet your ass. If I ever need inspiration I just reread chapter 1. Although one of my other favorites was Broken Monsters by Lauren Beukes. But White Fang is like, a weirdly personal text. We stan London’s writing in this household.

YOU HAVE THE OPPORTUNITY TO KEEP ANY ANIMAL AS A PET, WHAT DO YOU CHOOSE FENNEC FOX!! I used to daydream about having my own named Shiloh when I was a lil kid. they’re adorable little things and i am obsessed. i mean, gimme any fox and im happy, marble foxes, red foxes… but I was obsessed with fennec foxes. Also tbh ferrets. I want a ferret.

TOP FIVE FICTIONAL SHIPS [IF YOU ARE AN RP BLOG, YOU CAN USE YOUR OWN SHIPS AS WELL] Rosa & @ninetyscnds‘s Luke, Rosa & @iimpulsivity is already screaming my name, Rosa & Constantine, Jesse & Andrea from Breaking Bad, and the joker and harley of 80s sci-fi Dan & Herbert from Re-Ani. I am but a simple opossum.

PIE OR CAKE Pie! I’ll take both pumpkin & melty apple over cake. also, cheesecake is more pie than cake soooo, pie wins.

FAVORITE SCENT my dogs / my blanket. :’) It’s the most grounding smell in the world.

CELEBRITY CRUSH oliver jackson-cohen, i’m fucking GAY and im angry about it. there i was, minding my own business, and i saw that asshole in a certain SHIRTLESS GIF and it AWOKE SOMETHING IN ME. dont talk to me about it, holy shit im obsessed with beardy men now god fuckkdafjaask i hate him why did he make me this gay i was perfectly fine being into girls but NOOOOOO him and his dumb hairy chest and sweet rugged face and I—— I also am obsessed with the archaeologist & television personality Josh Gates and may or may not be considering making a fan blog for him bc idk if my anthropology docuseries host is Dad or Daddy but i love him lots

IF YOU COULD TRAVEL ANYWHERE, WHERE WOULD YOU GO I would go on a dive with anthropologists and archaeologists doing fieldwork research in the ancient cenotes of the Yucatán Peninsula. My actual dream job, catch me crying & fantasizing about being underwater documenting Mayan skulls given as offerings. Fuckkkk, I love anthropology so much!! take me anywhere in the world to immerse myself into culture & archaeology.

INTROVERT OR EXTROVERT Introvert. I have a real life friend I see roughly once a month, and that’s it. Plenty of online relationships, I’m chatty, message me all day every day. but i dont do people well.

DO YOU SCARE EASILY I used to! Really bad. I don’t as much anymore. I do get paranoia a lot still. Having therapists telling you that the FBI could be outside your house watching you through your windows will kind of nervous. ( no google results for: yes hello fbi i am a writer please dont put me on watchlists i just have research i need to do for this idea im working on, would you like to try again? ) I have nightmares nightly but not they never make me afraid, they just make me feel like crap. jumpscares and loud noises and seeing people reaching into their pockets dont set off as many brain alarms anymore tho!! progress haha.

IPHONE OR ANDROID I like my android better bc of capabilities but meh

DO YOU PLAY ANY VIDEO GAMES My mom, her husband & I play COD for family game night, and Silent Hill is my life’s blood. I’ve sunken hours into Sims & Skyrim, and Norman Jayden from Heavy Rain is my #1 fictional character in existence, why do i love the druggie babies

DREAM JOB Oh… You’re asking me to pick? I’d love to be an anthropologist doing work out in the field. Underwater archaeology is peak, but I’m also heavily considering being a body recovery diver or police diver. I’d love to see myself in uniform someday, if possible. Just the thought makes me teary eyed & proud.

WHAT WOULD YOU DO WITH A MILLION DOLLARS fund my person creative & educational endeavors. get myself a spooky ass abandoned house to make my own home to create in, and travel to the world’s best dive sites. just live a mild life of education, creation & exploration. that’s the dream TM.

FICTIONAL CHARACTER YOU HATE dr. hill is a gross and whiny lil bitch this post brought to u by the miskatonic crew, how is everyone here an even worse bad guy than herbert west precious dan excluded talk shit get hit tho john winchester from spn and both walter white & todd from breaking bad are all in my crew of hated characters. i jusT… the reani novel is difficult to read because i have to deal with this old sack of shit.

FANDOM THAT YOU WERE ONCE A PART OF BUT AREN’T ANY LONGER Supernatural :-)

… AND THIS CONCLUDES A DEEP DIVE WITH INDIGO!! //

#||: && the mundane ( ooc );#( get to know a bitch!! )#( this was... a lot of me rambling about weirdly personal shit at 2 am )

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calleo-bricriu · 5 years

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Don’t ask why I keep subjecting myself to this, because I don’t have a good answer.

More of this awful book.

Skimmed the rest of chapter 13. Nothing terribly interesting, Mizpra being all excited for her mother possibly having a stroke when the train's altitude changes, talk about how weak and pitiful Burke is (and, for some reason, to keep him from "catching cold" she makes him strip and wrap up in two wool blankets which seems like it'd be incredibly itchy), Mizpra tries to hasten the whole "give mom a stroke" thing by getting her mother day drunk.

A lot of references to alcohol being a stimulant again which, no.

Burke shows a little concern for Mizpra keeping her mother drunk and outside on an observation platform all damn day, so she tells him to go back inside and stop bothering them.

Wasn't at all concerned that her mother's face was turning blue because that's a normal thing I guess, shakes her mother awake, and of course her mother has the sroke and now she's just, "Oh shi--wait a minute, I didn't consider what might happen if the stroke kills her!" Not the best planning, Mizpra.

So she starts drinking and talking at her possibly dying mother about how she's going to ruin Obera's life.

And, like every poorly written villain in fiction, she says something ridiculous to herself: "Hell hath no horror; Heaven hath no hope."

At this point, I'd agree with her, only just in regards to this book.

Chapter 14 and we're back to Leigh.

Rev. Bald, we find out, knows a lot about alcohol and doesn't like his collar or waistcoat.

Finds out in a letter from Mizpra that he'll get paid once she's got proof of her brother's life being in shambles again.

For the time, five thousand per year as long as Leigh is in prison isn't all that bad; he really needs to step his game up because so far all he's done is invite the guy to hang out once, got shut down by Obera, and left.

"[...] literally poured the liquor down his throat," yeah, that's how drinking works.

He goes off for a good eight or so pages about how it's no crime to be poor out of absolutely nowhere. I mean, he's not wrong but why is he talking about it to the walls of his library?

Oh look, Leigh came to visit under false pretenses and seems to suspect that's the case but decided not to worry his on vacation wife and did exactly what he told her he wouldn't: Hang out with Rev. Bald.

Because he's a genius, he suspects Rev. Bald is being paid off by Mizpra to fuck up their lives and also thinks he'd sell her out if he was ever discovered. At this point you know damn well Leigh is basically the author because there's no reason at all Leigh would even HAVE that suspicion unless he'd been reading along with the rest of us.

Anyway, he got lured out there under the pretense of seeing or looking at some case of a morphine addict who isn't actually there.

So, because Leigh is a genius and understands everything, including more than most of those who study theology, Rev Bald pretty much plays right into that and says vague, sort of wrong-ish things just so Leigh the Genius will be compelled to correct him at length to, you know, remind everyone that he's a genius and better that everyone at everything.

Because he's a genius and you're not.

And Leigh sits there picking apart religion which might have been interesting if he weren't just sort of repeating himself with more and more pretentious wording.

"Do you know of any religion that has really made man better?" is a perfectly reasonable rhetorical question, at least.

Ah, and Leigh is into Darwin.

But, hey, Rev. Bald tricked Leigh into going out with him. I mean, Leigh would probably just say he's playing along but, you know...

They end up going to a dodgy district where everyone still somehow remembers Leigh from his drinking days. Probably should have picked a different neighborhood, Rev. Bald. It's like you didn't even research your mark.

We find out Leigh doesn't want to go to the first bar because he legit spent an entire week there without bathing or eating or sleeping just drinking and, I have to be honest, if I'd done something like that and was sure the people there would remember me, I probably wouldn't want to go back there either.

They end up in a bar and Leigh is, so far, being good and not drinking and has decided that Rev. Bald was going to be HIS victim--not sure what kind of victim, probably just to out him as working for Mizpra.

Oh hey, it's not just a bar, it's a brothel! Or, as Leigh's narrative describes it, a "dark, opprobrious den of crime and shame." Turns out he doesn't like makeup either, especially red lipstick because, as we all know, only whores wear that.

And now he's remembering some murder scene in the same place because not only is he a doctor, author, scholar, philosopher, and Merlin knows what else, he's ALSO a detective I guess!

I have to admit the memory of one of the workers at the place punching an actual, been there long enough to be bloated corpse because when you do that it makes apparently amusing sounds for the crowd of other people there who also found this amusing was, in and of itself, so absurd it made me laugh.

I'm sure it was meant to be horrifying but you can't read something like, "Over the prostrate victim bent the diseased-eaten harridan. She was amusing her companions by punching the inflated tissues, laughing and shrieking at the crackling, whistling effect it produced, while the dank denizens of the place gave vent to their pleasure by libidinous expressions and Paphian oaths," and NOT laugh.

Also the author is trying to tell us that, when he went to pull the punchy prostitute away from the corpse, her wig came off and her brain was straight up exposed through her "rotting skull".

For a fucking doctor you'd think he'd know that there is no actual way she'd be alive so unless he hallucinated this zombie prostitute...

So he thinks he's being taken to see the morphine addict and, of course, it's just a prostitute. She might also be a morphine addict but not the one Rev. Bald was describing as near death.

"Various odors in the room seemed to run in strata, as each step brought visitors to a different zone of pungent, offensive odors."

What are they?

Cigarettes, beer, lobster somehow, butter, cheap perfume.

I've been in worse rooms.

So she apparently IS the morphine addict he was talking about earlier, not like Leigh believes it, and Rev. Bald is going to just go ahead and leave the good doctor alone with her.

Leigh's first, uh, method of examination is to lift her arm, stroke her armpit, then drop her and move closer to the light to...look at his fingers. What the hell?

She was cool with it the first time but when he did it again she kind of freaked out which is perfectly understandable.

So there was a guy hiding in the curtains that was meant to jump Leigh but, Leigh being Leigh and good at everything, noticed him first and gave him a one punch knock out because Leigh is just that awesome.

And somehow Leigh, Rev. Bald, the woman, and the unconscious man are all locked in this nasty little room, the woman is going to apparently beat the hell out of Bald and broke a bottle over his head then, satisfied with that, shouts over to Leigh to continue beating the hell out of Rev. Bald because he'd set up the other guy to jump him.

Probably not a good idea to take Leigh to a brothel where everyone knew him.

She keeps smacking Bald in the head with a glass bottle and finally Leigh stops her before, y'know, she kills him. His reasoning for that was that killing him would be inconvenient for everyone which is fair enough.

Short conversation of, "Well if either one of them is dead we're both screwed, let's clean up the blood and I'll go get a police officer or whatever."

He comes back and--she's tried to redo her makeup to get back to work but there's this line about her hiding her powder puff: "[...] which she quickly hid in the bosom of her waist"--I don't think I want to know where she put that powder puff but I really hope she washes it before using it on her face again.

The lady then starts lecturing the mostly not conscious guy on the floor of her room about how it's his fault she's a prostitute somehow; based on how she's talking about money, sounds like she's one of his girls.

And that's it for chapter 15.

Chapter 16 is some flashback from the brothel woman about how she met Leigh; of course, since he's a genius doctor he offered, for free, to give her "deformed and useless" child whatever operation it is he needed. It's never specified, just that the kid is "deformed".

Also a lot of references to "dirty Poles" because it's gross to have to listen to Polish in an emergency room I guess.

Anyway, he's like The Saint Doctor who gives free medical care to everyone because he's a genius (of course) and none of the other doctors understand him. Also, he was just paying for everyone's medical care out of pocket because at some point, through one of the time skips, he went from jobless drunk to highly esteemed and rich author, lecturer, doctor, and scholar.

Getting really tired of Leigh.

She gets jolted out of her daydream when the train stops.She asks the "kindly old Irishman" who was cleaning up the station if she could hang out, he figures she's sober, so he says she can and she goes back to daydreaming about Leigh.

Whatever was wrong with her "deformed" kid was fixed and he's apparently recovered and Leigh arranged for the kid to be basically put in a foster home at some farm because that was apparently legal at one point, to just--give other peoples kids to someone else with no oversight.

Her name is May, we find out two chapters fucking late.

And she was somehow the thing that got him to clean his act up because that's how addiction works.

Now she's not daydreaming anymore because the train is about to arrive.

Chapter 17 is more of the same of these two catching up and talking about Rev. Bald being kind of a dick.

Also, who talks like this? "In his presence the finer feelings of her sex were aroused, her self-respect was active; and he knew it."

REALLY tired of Leigh now.

Basically, between really awkward sort of flirting we find out what anyone reading figured out several chapters ago: Mizpra is a terrible planner when it comes to remotely murdering people and Rev. Bald is proof of that because he basically fucked it up the first night.

And now he's going to go introduce his prostitute friend to Mops.

I feel like that's something he should have discussed with Obera first?

Ah yes, back to "masculine voiced women" who are, of course, matrons at some kind of--I don't even know what at this point, and I don't really care but of course, the women the author wants to have us view as bad are always mascluline in some way and are occasionally also fat and clumsy.

Like he's got any room to talk. I've seen photographs.

Oh of course, a religious boarding house for children of prostitutes where the manly, fat, clumsy women routinely berate the children.

In fairness, places like that did exist until fairly recently so I'm okay with the author kind of dragging them.

Ah, yes, Obera, gone from child-like and saucy to, "[...] radiantly beautiful, and in that full activity of healthy womanhood, which only true love and motherhood can develop."

Anyway, she starts begging Leigh to just straight up murder Mizpra, has a crying fit, then falls asleep and he starts waxing poetic about how her tiny little woman brain can't fully understand the situation.

Of course, Obera doesn't want the prostitute to see Mops because she's a "horrid, bad woman".

And that's it for chapter 17.

#this is the worst #books #antique books #I mean at least de sade got straight to the point of boring people by seeing how edgy he could be #this has been 17 chapters of nothing

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neko-shinigxmi · 5 years

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Well... I promised it many times over. What I love about this man, down to the last detail. Everything I can think of, from imagined life to daydreams of him in this world. So! I promised it, so let’s get down to business, huh?

I got into Watch_Dogs 2 on curiosity alone. I see a masked person? I wanna know more! (It’s how I started on my path to Ace Attorney, after all.) So, a year ago, I found a moments of Wrench video... The first part was a blast; I ended up really liking his character! Nerdy, excitable, pretty lewd for the sake of it (and being out there), and just... Did what he wanted. Long live anarchy and a destruction of the system. I was into that!!

But somewhere in the second part... I got really, really attached. It kinda sunk in that he’s someone I could really like. I grew up west coast; I know San Francisco really well due to family living up/around there. His mask is cool, yeah, but also shows his genius in a subtle way.

Watch_Dogs 2 gave me this loud, rambunctious nerd and I loved him...and as mad as it still makes me to think about, when they had that moment in-game where he got caught? Where they stripped him of his mask and forced him to face the world without it...?

They unknowingly gave me even more to love.

He’s not JUST some loud an’ lewd dude (though that does make up a fair portion of his outward personality), but under that mask? So, so insecure without it. That’s the crutch he needs to work with the world...and how doesn’t that strike a cord with anyone?

And I’m never sure of a way to put it, but... His face. You always get two expectations when someone is masked: either bishonen boy or with deformities/made to see “ugly”. Wrench isn’t like that, at least, to me? He’s just an average guy. Big nose, kinda small lips, average eyes, and what most assume (myself included) to be a big birthmark on the side of his head. Right in view of everyone, without his mask.

Without his crutch.

It’s this weird mishmash of so many little factors that work out. Drawn to his initial appearance and all the punk he exudes, the mask and the emotes it displays, the urge to check out and study his tattoos....and then I know him more. Understand him more. Love him more...and it’s not just that anymore. It’s seeing a little of myself in him. Understanding that feeling of being outcasted from the world and making our own little corner, instead, since the world won’t have us. It’s making a buffer between us and that world, just so things feel better. (Even if they don’t go better like we want them to.)

And fuck the world. I love this hacker anarchist, father-to-a-robot, nerdy as FUCK, perverted, doofus of somewhere between “1-40″ years, as he so elegantly jokes. (Babe, we all know you’re in your twenties. Nobody of any other age group would act like we do. You’re not 5 years old or 62. Goofball.) His face is everything to me. Everybody who’s ever made him feel bad about it can go sod off somewhere else. Assholes.

Oh, and his gestures!! I just rewatched a video of his moments (a shorter one) and all the gestures he does!!! He’s so lively and it’s so, so precious to me... One of the many, many things I love about him, right next to his parenthood of Wrench Jr. (precious lil robot son of ours) and his terrible, yet endearing, taste in music... Oh, and the fact the NERD set up a ZIPLINE for Marcus to use... I can’t believe him, and yet...

....Man. Anyways...

Maybe it’s just cause I met him at a bad time in my life. Feeling like crap, didn’t want to exist, feeling maybe like it was pointless to keep up trying to get into a relationship or holding any romantic ideals to people at all, cause... Things always tended to end up disastrously for me. Everything was crap and then I found this goofy guy and... Bam. I started to feel better. Hearing his voice makes me so, so happy. Wearing his sweater (like I am now)? Is comforting, warm, and always makes me think of him. Hell, I even got two keychains of this man....and a ring!

Not only do I love this man with my entire being, but I’ve got a cheapass ring to prove it cause we’re BOTH working not the best paying jobs and you know what??? ....We love each other and that’s all that matters to me.

He’s kept me going since, then, too. Need to sleep? Imagine him cuddling up to me or spooning me to sleep. Shower time? The shenanigans of trying to get things ready for the shower, much less getting clean!!! Imagining the ways he’d do his best to distract me. How he teases me about anything and everything. Kicking back on a weekend with either takeout, fast food, or a pizza and watch our Netflix queue or just...talk.

I think about our life together so much it hurts me sometimes. Actual aches of the heart and I’ve cried over him a few times already.... I’m expecting it to be a few times more as time goes on, too. Because much like a few others in the community- I’m sure- I found my soulmate. Not to be a real person, but a fictional character...and despite that worlds-apart dream, I don’t care. He’s the feeling of home. He kept my chin up and kept me believing in love and good things and beauty in the chaos I’m too shy to show.

He’s my opposite in a lot of ways, too, y’know? Aries and Capricorn... Apparently, they’re usually terrible together. And I mean atrocious!!! Aries with their carefree nature and Capricorns, too careful, too calculating, too controlled. It causes friction...but not with us. Sure, you can catch him whining about me being boring sometimes, but he’s still patient with me. I worry about him a lot, but he does the same for me and we do it until it annoys the other and we’re yelling.......but the “fight” dies down, cause at the core of it, we just care a lot. We worry about losing each other.

And I won’t lie on that: I do see us fighting quite a bit. Over the stupidest things because I worry and get emotional and he does the same and so we hit heads over things, get stubborn, and I probably cry sometimes because I can’t be angry without crying...for some reason. He stops there or he walks off to cool his head....and then we come back to it. Quieter, sitting close together and clinging and talking it out.

We fix things, because he doesn’t know how a “fuck up” like him got me to stay and I don’t want anything else but him. We both want to keep it working, we both want to talk, and things get worked on and fixed. Hell, it’s even why we can “bully” each other. It’s because we both know what we’re most sensitive about and if it goes too far, we let the other know and it stops. Next time? It never gets that far. Or we don’t talk about it at all.

...I imagine that Wrench came from...not the best home. My family’s okay, but they’re not perfect, either; I’ve picked up a lot of bad habits and ways of thinking from them. So together...we do better than what we left behind. We have to, for each other’s sake.

.....It’s stuff like this- thoughts like this- that keep Wrench so dear to me. Why it means so much that I can call him my husband, delight in hearing others ship us... He’s my world. I might not depend on him an incredible amount, but he’s still my main F/O for a reason.

If you’d asked me a year ago and a week before, how I would feel about falling in love with one fictional character and only ever wanting him... I would’ve laughed. “Yeah, right! I love every one of my F/Os equally!” I would’ve crowed! And I’m still sort of right; all of my F/Os are dear to me in various ways...but Wrench is the one who stands out in the crowd. He’s the one who brightens my day immensely.

I love Wrench so fucking much. I’m so glad I can be his spouse...and I hope you’ll continue to support us as time passes on. ♡ ♡

#self insert #self insert community #self ship #self ship community #self shipping #watch dogs 2 #wrench #otp; purrfect anarchy #Event; 1st Anniversary to Wrench #TECHNICALLY it's 2 AM here but #I haven't gone to sleep yet #so I can do what I want to #I can leave my friends behind #bc if my friends don't dance--#okay I'll stop #a;sldfjghjfkdls #ANYWAYS I REALLY REALLY LOVE WRENCH #THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TEDTALK GOODNIGHT EVERYBODY

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thefreckledone · 6 years

Text

Satori (Between the Lines) - Part 2

[Chapter 1]

Sakura willingly goes along with Ibiki, allowing him to tug her along through the Intelligence Division with Inoichi on their tails. She hasn’t been to this section of the Intelligence Division before, these upper floors that have actual windows in their walls. Sakura looks around avidly, basking in the natural light even as Ibiki pulls her toward the end of the hall. There are no people walking around these halls, though Sakura notes that the rooms that line the hall are marked with a simple, beautiful sign:

Archives.

Her eyes round and her hands twitch with the desire to get a hold of the documents within and crack open their secrets.

Her pace slows and Ibiki glances down at her. He catches the focus of her attention and chuckles, a low, rasping sound that emerges from his chest with an almost rusty quality. Sakura privately wonders how many years it’s been since he’s laughed at something so simple, something not involved with T&I. From the look on Inoichi’s face, it may have been before she was born.

“There’ll be time for that later,” Ibiki says gruffly, releasing her arm and, with only the briefest of hesitations, ruffling her hair. “Right now, however, I need to make introductions.”

“Why are we here?” Inoichi demands. “Sakura-kun is here on an Academy class assignment,” he continues, stressing Sakura’s current rank and standing within Konoha. As an Academy student, she is not yet anyone by shinobi standards. “Whatever you’re plotting needs to stop.”

Ibiki crosses his arms, scowling at Inoichi. Somehow, it is less terrifying than his laugh. “She’s got skill; all the more so for being a mere Academy student. Let’s let our Strategist decide whether or not she can be useful elsewhere. Besides, the Academy’s lessons have been subpar and lacking in recent years; I’m sure she needs herself a challenge.”

Inoichi frowns, turning red as he glances between the disparate duo, but he bites his tongue. Instead, he gives Ibiki a stern look before stepping to the side.

Ibiki strides forward, slamming a hand on the door before sailing through, not giving the occupant a chance to respond. Sakura meekly steps in behind him, taking a moment to assess the room. It is more spacious than the room that she’s been working in, but it is filled from floor to ceiling with all sorts of papers: dusty tomes, huge scrolls, and loose leaf paper. Her eyes go wide as she reads some of the titles, realizing that some of them are more advanced texts on cryptography.

Her fingers itch to get a hold of them.

A drawn out sigh interrupts her daydreaming and Sakura snaps to attention guiltily. She looks to the sole occupant of the room, nearly obscured by the documents on his desk. He is dark haired and scarred, with the signature small pupils of the Nara clan.

Nara Shikaku, the Jonin Commander of Konohagakure.

Sakura swallows, mouth and throat suddenly dry. She knows she has to be in major trouble to be brought before the Jonin Commander. Will she be expelled? Kicked out of Konoha? Her thoughts whirl as she remembers whispers from the marketplace. Tortured?

Without conscious thought, Sakura shrinks back against Ibiki’s leg, trying to hide in his shadow. He glances down at her, eyes going distant as he remembers another who once stood in her shoes. He gruffly shakes the errant sentiment away, placing a hand on Sakura’s shoulder and shoving her out in front of him.

Shikaku glances among the three of them, taking in the terror on Sakura’s face, the resignation on Inoichi’s, before finally settling on Ibiki. “Why did you bring an Academy student into my office?”

Ibiki cackles.

Cackles.

From the way Shikaku pales, Sakura gets the feeling it isn’t a normal occurrence, at least outside of the interrogation room.

Ibiki places both hands on Sakura’s shoulders. “This here is a new protege for you!”

A few things happen at the same time:

Inoichi exclaims something, probably along the lines of, “Absolutely not! She’s a child!”

Shikaku’s gaze transfers to Sakura and she receives the full brunt of his attention and scrutiny. His eyes are keen and Sakura remembers why, in a village full of Hyuga, Uchiha, and Aburame, the Nara are still considered the most intelligent clan.

Ibiki’s hands tighten on Sakura’s shoulders, almost to the point of pain, but it reminds Sakura of the confidence in his voice as he introduced her as a new protege. Ibiki doesn’t even know her full name, yet he has confidence in her.

Maybe, maybe she can confidence in herself as well.

She straightens beneath Shikaku’s gaze, meeting his eyes head on.

His brow quirks slightly, but he gives her a smile that relaxes the lines and scars of his face. He has a kind, tranquil look about him.

Sakura thinks that she may like him.

“Ibiki, you so rarely take an interest in anything outside the interrogation room,” Shikaku says, voice dry. “What games are you playing today?”

“No games,” Ibiki replies. “She’s here on a field experience assignment from the Academy. She sorts the coded documents by recipient.” He strides forward, placing the document from Fox in Shikaku’s hands. “I needed a document pulled that hadn’t been sorted yet. She’s competent enough at code to know at least some of their content. She pulled this for me when I came in asking for it from Inoichi.”

Sakura sees the way interest lights Shikaku’s eyes. He turns to Inoichi. “Is this true?”

Inoichi hesitates for a moment before nodding. “Sakura-kun has been teaching herself ciphers in her free time it seems.”

Shikaku hums, glancing down at the document for a few long moments before lifting his gaze to Sakura. “So I see.”

He leaves it at that and Sakura resists the urge to fidget beneath his penetrating eyes.

“Is that it?” Ibiki demands after a few moments of silence go by.

“Not quite,” Shikaku says, a slow smile curling up his lips. “Sakura-san, tomorrow when you report for your assignment, come here to my office. I’ll have work for you.”

Sakura’s never experienced the peculiar intertwining of dread and excitement before, not until this moment.

She thinks she may like it.

And that it is a sensation she’ll need to get used to. She’s certain she will be feeling it quite frequently moving forward.

“Yes Nara-san,” Sakura says, bowing slightly before she is hurried out the door by a shell-shocked Inoichi and a giggling—giggling—Ibiki.

Just wait until she tells Ino!

“Lift your elbow,” Ino instructs, circling Sakura. “Almost got it—” Ino grabs Sakura’s arm, adjusting it to her standards. “Perfect. Now, hold that position.”

Sakura does as Ino says, though she cannot help asking, “Don’t I need to be holding a kunai?”

“Not yet,” Ino replies. “Genma-senpai says you have to master the forms first. Hold that position.”

Sakura hums in agreement, afraid to nod and break form. Her arm feels awkward to be held at this angle, away from her body. She still doesn’t feel at home in her body. Sakura wonders if it is because she’s so used to hunching over and curling inward. She rarely stands with her shoulders put back or sits with her legs spread wide. She’s spent years trying to make herself smaller and less noticeable; it’s hard to unlearn old habits. But to be a shinobi…to have the confidence needed to push through…learning new habits is necessary.

“It reminds me a bit of what Nara-san is teaching me,” Sakura says, holding the form to the best of her ability.

“Shikaku-oji?” Ino says, tapping Sakura’s arm to get her to raise it again. “What about codes is similar to weapons?”

“Well, they aren’t that similar, but Nara-san and Shiranui-san’s approaches are,” Sakura replies. “Nara-san isn’t letting me decipher any codes right now. Currently, he’s having me read about the history of codes among the different nations. I’ve been learning all about the syntax of multiple languages so that I can understand how codes are created. If I can master these skills, cipher cracking will become simpler. I’ll understand the actual mechanics behind the process.”

“That’s almost exactly what Genma-senpai said!” Ino exclaims. She assesses Sakura’s posture for a moment, nods, and turns a handstand, holding herself up with her legs pressed together. “It’s wise advice, but it’s kind of boring, honestly.”

Sakura wrinkles her nose, thinking of the dry writing she’s been pouring over for the past few weeks. Her arm throbs, reminding her of the tense posture she’s been holding. “It can be. Nara-san says it builds character.”

Ino is silent for a long moment. “You’ve held the position long enough now, Sakura.” Sakura drops her arm, rubbing it absently. Ino looks up at her from her handstand and grins. “There are ways to practice and learn while having fun. Wanna race on our hands to that tree and back?”

Sakura rolls into a handstand of her own. “You’re on!”

“This one is honeysuckle,” Sakura says, pride filling her voice as she identifies the orange flowers on the bush. She reaches forward, gently plucking the flower from the stem. “Ino says that in the language of flowers it signifies happiness and devoted affection.”

Torune hums, kneeling down at her side. “The moths like to pollinate these flowers after dusk. During the day, they tend to be dominated by hummingbirds.” Sakura sees his smile peek out from behind his high collar as the near constant buzz beneath his skin kicks up a notch. “The Aburame insects have their choice of any flower they want.”

“Oh yeah?” Sakura asks, turning the pistil and petals toward Torune, placing the bottom end of the flower up by her lips. “So can I.”

She closes her teeth around the flower, sucking on the receptacle. Sakura taste the sweetness of the honeysuckle and grins around it. The smile widens at Torune’s wide-eyed stare as she picks another and offers it his way.

“Ino may know the language of flowers and you may know which insects like each one, but I know a couple of secrets myself,” Sakura says.

Before becoming friends with Ino, Sakura was a loner, an observer. She listened to the stories of others, in the Haruno shop, and in the streets as well. She also spent time alone in the forests of Konoha. Not outside the walls and certainly not the Forty-Fourth Training Ground, but she knew her way about the copses of Konoha. She even explored a bit into the Nara Forest, not far by any means, but still enough to feel confident navigating through parts of it.

Right now, however, Sakura and Torune are on Aburame property, exploring the sprawling estates full of untouched wildlife. Sakura enjoys the tranquility, the quiet song of life that thrums all around them. It’s an uncultured paradise and Sakura loves every inch of it.

Torune takes the flower from Sakura, copying her motions tentatively. He pauses, glancing over at her. “It’s sweet.”

Sakura giggles at the wonder in his tone. “Of course it is. Don’t your insects let you know how they like their meal?”

Torune sits silently for so long that Sakura begins to worry that she’s crossed some unknown boundary. Finally he says, fists clenched tightly, “They don’t consume pollen.”

“Oh, I didn’t realize,” Sakura says, reaching out and taking one of his gloved hands in both of hers. She runs her hands over his fist, patiently waiting for it to relax beneath her touch. When it finally does, Sakura laces their fingers together. “What do they eat?”

“They’re different than the usual Aburame insects. They aren’t kikaichū,” Torune says, gaze down and focused on their joined hands.

Sakura, sensing his rising tension, places her free hand on his knee. “I’d guessed that they were different,” she says softly. “You don’t need to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I want to,” he replies, tightening his hold on her hand. “Friends share secrets, don’t they?”

“They do,” Sakura says. “But that’s sharing secrets, choosing to tell those secrets when you feel comfortable. Friends do not force friends to tell secrets.”

“Okay,” Torune says, breath rattling out of his chest as he exhales. The buzz beneath his skin has reached a point where Sakura can feel the vibrations in his hand and knee. “I want to share this with you though. I just haven’t done this before. Some of my relatives are…intimidated by them, by me.”

Sakura swallows at that; the Aburame are known for being apathetic in the face of even the most dire circumstances. For them to fear Torune, a child…

Still…

“Torune, you are my friend,” Sakura says, her headband suddenly weighty beneath her words and promise. Ino has taught her the meaning of friendship and Sakura suddenly realizes the duty she owes her friends. “I will not turn away from you, whatever you tell me.”

Torune nods shakily, reaching out with his other hand and grabbing hers from his knee. They sit like this, facing each other, surrounded by the fresh, sweet scent of honeysuckles and the constant thrum beneath his skin.

“I carry the rinkaichū, like my father and mother before me,” Torune says, head bent in fear. “Both my father and mother are gone; so I am the last and only host. The rinkaichū are different than the kikaichū; they feed on living flesh, not chakra. With a mere touch, I may infect and kill someone.”

Torune goes to release her hands, but Sakura grips them tightly.

“So?” Sakura asks, keeping their fingers intertwined. “That’s a useful variation to the Aburame kekkei genkai. I know it will come in handy out in the field.”

“Aren’t you scared of me?” Torune asks, body buzzing with agitation. “Why aren’t you angry? I’ve touched you—I’m still touching you—and I didn’t tell you. I’ve endangered you because I’m selfish.”

“I’m not afraid, Torune,” Sakura says. “You aren’t a scary person. Even if others say you lack control, I know the truth. You can control yourself, when it counts. I trust you with my life.”

Torune stays quiet so Sakura does too, waiting until he is ready. She’s said what she needed to say. Besides, she thinks something of what she said got through since he is no longer struggling to escape her touch. She notes idly that the sun is beginning to set over them.

Finally, in the barest of whispers, Torune says, “Really? Do you mean that?”

“I do,” Sakura replies, making her voice as firm as she can, imitating the way Ibiki and Shikaku speak. When they talk, people listen intently. “You know, I think it’s amazing that you alone are capable of carrying on your parents’ legacy. It’s almost like they’re still standing with you.”

Torune sniffles and, when he draws one hand away, Sakura lets him, keeping her gaze averted out of consideration as he removes his goggles. She rustles in her pocket, withdrawing her weapon cleaning cloth. It’s a coarse cloth, certainly not suited to touching skin, but it is clean and unmarked by the usual stains of oil. She passes it to him and accepts his quiet thanks.

“I didn’t think of it like that,” Torune says eventually, voice hoarse and still sniffling a bit.

Sakura hums, looking up at him. He looks mostly put together, though Sakura cannot see his red-rimmed eyes behind the goggles. She leans in, drawing him into a hug. As she embraces him for a long time, smiling as he melts into the hug, she nestles her chin onto his shoulder and looks beyond.

The dusty wings of moths beat as they descend upon the honeysuckles, drawing free their pollen. Sakura smiles and closes her eyes, knowing that, regardless of what happens from here, her bond with Torune is firmly forged.

She won’t be shaken from her friends. Not now, not ever.

“You seem pensive.”

Sakura looks up from the dusty tome, startled by the interruption. Her thoughtful frown turns sheepish as she meets Shikaku’s piercing gaze.

“Sorry,” she says, ducking her head. “I suppose my thoughts wandered.”

“Where to?” he asks, folding his hands on his desk.

“It’s foolish,” she demurs.

“Tell me anyway.”

Sakura takes a deep breath, keeping her eyes focused on a point beyond Shikaku’s forehead. She cannot look into the banked fires, his eyes like hot coals. Calm and settled, for the moment, but easily stoked into a blazing crescendo of flames.

“I’ve enjoyed the reading you’ve assigned, truly,” she begins, not wanting to appear in any way ungrateful. “It has vastly improved my knowledge of cryptography. However, what these books describe is so different from the ciphers used in the missives that go through the Intelligence Division. I’ve checked.”

Shikaku hums, expression unreadable. “What do you mean by ‘different?’”

“They are…simple by comparison,” Sakura admits, wondering if she’s in trouble here. “They use transposition ciphers or substitution ciphers. None of them use any of the languages you’re teaching me or even the literary stylings found in this book.” She holds up the book entitled Embedded Poetry and Stories: An Analysis. “I do not mean to be pert and I doubt it is my place, but is it safe? If someone like me can decrypt the codes, what does that mean for Konoha?”

In the silence that ensues, Sakura works up the courage to look Shikaku in the eye. She does, surprised to see the shock writ upon his features.

“Sir?” she ventures, hesitant.

Shikaku’s shoulders begin to shake as peals of laughter burst forth. Sakura feels the flush creep up her neck, around her ears, and fill her cheeks, as a mixture of embarrassment and confusion settles into the pit of her gut.

“I’m not laughing at you,” he says between chuckles. “It’s just…I am unused to such astute observations coming from the mouth of a six year old. At least, regarding these matters. If Shikamaru applied himself…” He trails off for a moment before shaking his head. “But I digress. Sakura, you are right. The codes Konoha currently employs among its elite shinobi are simple. The current opinion is that, should a missive be intercepted, the ciphers are good enough to keep prying eyes out.” He rolls his eyes, indicating his opinion on the issue. “They think the Konoha dialect is enough to confuse enemy code breakers, nervemind the fact that there are always spies within the village and we have our fair share of traitors. Just as you know the Iwa dialect from the texts you’ve read, so to do other nations know ours. We aren’t particularly unique.”

“So why don’t they care to change?” Sakura asks, flabbergasted and horrified.

To think that enemies could so easily decipher sensitive village information…

“Who can say? The Councils and other officials are still war-minded; most of them suffered through two of the three Shinobi World Wars and countless other skirmishes. They aren’t acclimated to peace time and focus solely on our military strength. They believe that sending missives with Summons will keep them safe, but there’s always a risk at hand. Konoha’s officials do not care to ‘waste time’ on ‘exercises of futile intelligence.’” He seems to be quoting specifically from words told to him in the past. “They forget that such exercises are the primary information source in both war and peace time. In fact, this type of espionage can either cause or prevent war.”

“Cause or prevent war?” Sakura repeats, astonished.

What Shikaku does, what she’s doing, can have that monumental an impact?

Shikaku smiles and it is a bitter thing. “The Councils scoff, but wars have been started for less than a deciphered letter. It’s also possible that, should our codes be broken, forgeries take their place and throw the upper echelons of Konoha’s elite into disarray.”

Sakura blinks, more than a little shell-shocked.

“Some of the higher officials, the true war dogs who were in the thick of it, use more complicated ciphers. Hokage-sama, Shimura-san, and so on. I’ll let you take a look at some of them sometime. You’ll be able to see that, with those they’ve personally had a hand in creating, bits of their personality are imbued into the codes. Still, they don’t bother to keep up with the current literature on cryptography. Language is fluid and constantly changing. So too is cryptography. I’m having you read these histories so that one day you can create ciphers of your own.” Shikaku grins, scars stretching in his happiness. “You’ve shown more than just a penchant for it; you have a true gift. I look forward to the codes you yourself create. I know they’ll be magnificent.”

Sakura doesn’t speak, thunderstruck by all the possibilities that seem to have opened up before her. Her very own code…She never realized that she could make any herself, rather than borrowing from the work of others. To make—to create—codes all her own, with her own signature, own brand…Well, the possibilities seem endless.

Shikaku smirks at her over-wide eyes. “Your eyes are growing larger than your stomach; don’t get greedy. Pace yourself, we have time enough.”

Sakura nods, returning to her reading with a new fervor and fresh perspective. She wants—needs—to learn everything there is about cryptography.

“That’s ten,” Ino says, tone unreadable.

“Did I…did I do alright?” Sakura asks, almost fearful of the answer.

“Why don’t you see for yourself?” Ino says.

Sakura reaches up, removing the kerchief from her eyes. Before her, forty yards away, are the ten targets. Each of her kunai struck their mark. Sakura claps in excitement, prancing forward to examine the targets more closely. She managed to nail the very center of the target on four of the targets, the other six hit within the two next smallest circles.

“Ino!” she exclaims, turning back to her friend.

Ino cannot contain her own exhilaration. “You did it!”

“We did it,” Sakura corrects, the force of her smile almost hurting her cheeks. She looks across the field at her friend and bows. “Thank you, Ino-sensei.”

Sakura yelps as, still bowed over, a weight hits her in the side, knocking her over. Sakura tumbles to the ground, entangled in Ino’s limbs. They look at each other for a long moment, stunned breathless by the unexpected fall. Then, and Sakura cannot say who exactly starts, they begin to snicker. Snickers evolve into giggles which turn to guffaws and finally become outright cackling. They lay on the ground against each other, content as the laughter dies off.

“I’m trying to imagine Mizuki-sensei’s face during the quarter’s final,” Ino says.

“Mizuki-sensei’s? What about Iruka-sensei’s?” Sakura sits up, pulling a face at Ino that sets off their fit once more. “Sasuke-san won’t be pleased.”

“Why’s that?” Ino asks, propping herself up on her elbows to look over at Sakura.

“You’re better with weapons than he is,” Sakura says. “He might even challenge you to a spar.”

Ino huffs, though a slight flush rises to her cheeks. “Let him try. Tou-chan’s been teaching me secret clan techniques and spar moves. Sasuke-san can’t even activate his kekkei genkai yet. I can beat any of the boys in our class.”

“You’ll beat him,” Sakura says, confident. “You can beat any of them.”

They fall into a satisfied silence, just basking in Sakura’s victory and each other’s presence.

Because they are propped up against one another, Sakura can feel Ino’s muscles suddenly tense. “What is it?” Sakura asks.

“Speaking of displeased boys reminded me of something,” Ino says. “We had an Ino-Shika-Cho barbecue last week. I hung out with Shikamaru and Choji the whole time. Shikamaru seemed a bit off. He kept asking me questions about you.”

“About me?”

“Apparently Shikaku-oji has mentioned you a couple times at home. Since Shikamaru’s so upset, I’m guessing he gave you praise.”

“Shikamaru’s upset?” Sakura asks, sitting up straight after fighting back feelings of pride. She enjoys being praised for her skill.

“Don’t worry about it, Sakura,” Ino says, pulling on Sakura’s hand until she reclines once more. “Shikamaru just really admires his father, though he’d never admit it. He’s just jealous that Shikaku-oji has noticed one of his peers.”

“What should I do?” Sakura says, picking at her fingernails. She hates the thought that someone is angry with her; the people pleaser in her demanding that she fix the issue.

Ino flaps a hand. “Don’t worry about it; Shikamaru will either get over it or confront you.”

“Confront me?”

“Calm down,” Ino says. “This is Shikamaru we’re talking about. He’s pretty lazy and he knows you’re my best friend. He won’t do anything terrible; he knows I’ll make him regret it.”

Sakura smiles, grabbing Ino’s hand. “Thank you, Ino, for always protecting me.”

“Of course!” Ino replies, squeezing Sakura’s hand in turn. “I always have your back.”

They stay like that for a while, time seeming to stand still aside from the movement of the sun and clouds in the sky. Finally, Ino stands with a sigh, patting down her clothes and collecting her gear.

“I have to go home for dinner,” she admits, looking put out. “Tou-chan is cooking tonight and I don’t want to miss it.”

“I’m sure it will be good!” Sakura replies, trying not to think of her own home, empty right now as her parents travel through Iron. They’re establishing ties with the samurai that reside there, hoping to attain firsthand access to Iron exports. It is an arduous and lengthy process, but Sakura knows better than to complain. She glances at the targets, pushing aside the thought of withdrawing leftovers from the fridge that her aunt left her. “I think I’ll stay here a bit longer and continue to practice.”

Ino gives her a hug and they exchange farewells, Sakura watching as Ino moves away.

Once Ino is no longer in sight, Sakura sets about practicing once more. She withdraws her kunai from the target, deciding to work with her shuriken instead.

“You don’t need her.”

Sakura jumps, turning with kunai ready in hand.

“Torune?” Sakura asks, confusion giving her pause. “What are you doing here?”

He glances at her for a moment, before returning his attention to his feet. She cannot really see much of his expression, obscured as it is by goggles and high collar, but she’s certain that he’s angry. She’s never seen him like this.

“The Yamanaka,” Torune bites out. “You don’t need her.”

Sakura cocks her head to the side for a moment, regarding him, before turning back to the task at hand. “I’m not sure what you mean.”

“I’ll watch your back,” Torune says. Sakura suddenly realizes that she can feel the way his entire body is vibrating with the force of the rinkaichū within him, even with the distance between them and her back to him. “I’m strong, I can protect you.”

“Ino is strong too,” Sakura replies, yanking hard on one of the kunai. It is firmly wedged into the wood and, though she’s proud of the force she put behind the throw, it is causing some trouble now. Ino is the top girl in their class in every area except academics, which Sakura herself dominates. “Plus, as a shinobi I need to be able to watch my own back.”

“Sakura!” he exclaims before cutting himself off in frustration.

“What’s really bothering you, Torune?” Sakura asks, abandoning the kunai to regard him fully. “You’ve never had any issues with Ino before.”

“Is she your best friend?” Torune blurts out.

“She’s my first friend,” Sakura says.

“That isn’t an answer.”

Sakura sighs, sitting down and crossing her legs. She pats the ground beside her, to indicate where he should sit. Torune obeys and Sakura begins plucking at the dandelions that grow around the base of the target.

“Ino is my precious person,” Sakura says, focusing on her hands. “She saved me from bullies and gave me this ribbon.” Sakura gestures to her head. “She’s bossy and likes to gossip and to get into my business and I love her with all my heart. When she’s sad, I want to cheer her up. When she’s injured, I want to heal her. When she’s happy, I want to make her even happier. I want to protect her and pay her back for all of the help she’s given me.”

“Oh,” Torune says, subdued. His buzzing has completely subsided.

“Torune, you are also my precious person,” she continues as she weaves the strands together. “You are quiet and you daydream and sometimes talking to you is hard because I don’t know what you feel about what I’m saying and I love you with all my heart. When you’re hurt, I want to hold your hand. When you’re frightened, I want to scare your fears away. When you’re fighting, I want to stand and protect your back. It makes me smile when I see you smile.”

Torune sniffles slightly, rubbing at his nose. “Really?”

“Really,” Sakura replies. She ties the ends of the stands to each other and nods to herself. Sakura lifts her creation in her hands and leans over, placing it on his head. “There. It won’t last as long as the ribbon, but…” She shrugs. “I’ll get you something that lasts later. This is a symbol of our bond. Dandelions mean long-lasting happiness, youthful joy, and wish fulfillment. My wish is this: that you and I will be friends forever.” Sakura grins at him. “So don’t worry about ‘best’ or anything like that. Both of you are my precious people.”

Torune throws his arms around her, dragging her into a hug. It is awkward and slightly uncomfortable, but wholehearted and warm, just like Torune is. “You’re my precious person too,” he says against her ear. “Thank you for being my friend, Sakura.”

Sakura opens her mouth to reply, but her stomach beats her to it, growling loudly. She flushes, drawing away from Torune. “Sorry about that. I guess I’m hungry.”

“Want to come to dinner with me? Oji-sama will cook.”

“Are you sure that’s alright?” Sakura asks. “I’d hate to impose.”

“It won’t!” Torune says, cutting her off. “Oji-sama always cooks too much. He’d be happy to have you.”

Sakura thinks back to her vacant and quiet home and realizes that there is no contest. “Of course, Torune, thank you for the invitation.”

#my fic #sakura haruno #sakura-centric #satori (between the lines)#torune aburame #sakura & torune #sakura & ino #ino yamanaka #sakura gets to use her skills from a young age

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kriscme · 3 years

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One Life to Live

Hi, here’s the latest chapter. Almost at the end. This is also on A03 and will be easier to read. I’m Kris22 over there. I’d link if I knew how. As always thanks for Ronja for allowing me to write fanfic of her Hunger Games fanfic “The Chance You Didn’t Take”. You can read it on AO3 and FanFiction. Chapter 36 “. . . and so Blake’s wedding was called off. And in the meantime, Celia’s been attending a therapy support group for sex addiction. They think it’s caused by a fear of emotional intimacy or something like that. I guess it’s because she’s been hurt. You know, by Blake. And that’s all I know. I haven’t watched it in a while.” “And who’s that guy?” Peeta asks. He’s referring to a man in overalls and a straw hat crouched in a field of what looks like withered lettuces. He appears to be examining the soil. “That’s Celia’s father, Mulch Chastely.” The camera zooms in and ominous music builds. His hands are stained with a black, greasy substance. “Oil!” he screams, as the music reaches a crescendo. He shakes his fist at the heavens. “The Knights will pay for this barbarous act! You’re a dead man, Rigger Knight!” Then it segues to Rigger Knight who is seated on the porch of the Knight family home as if in wait. Across his lap is a firearm. It looks like a bazooka. The scene ends with Mulch Chastely selecting a pitchfork from his arsenal of agricultural tools and marching with grim determination in the direction of the Knight property. Peeta bursts out laughing. I can’t help laughing at the ridiculousness of it either. “I told you it was stupid,” I say.

Next, we’re in a large room, mostly empty except for a circle of nine chairs spaced at regular intervals. People start to trickle in and each of them takes a seat. Celia is among them, wearing denim trousers and a blue sweater, her long blond hair pulled back into a ponytail. She looks tired and dejected. Last to arrive is a gaudily dressed middle-aged woman with bright yellow hair carrying a clipboard. She’s accompanied by a younger man in expensive sports clothes. When he sees Celia an expression of deep longing passes over his face. Celia doesn’t look up. The woman with the yellow hair starts the discussion. “Good afternoon, everyone. We’re in for a big, big session! We have new a member joining us. I know you’ll make him welcome. Blake, would you please introduce yourself and share with the group what’s brought you here today.”

Celia starts at the name and her eyes widen with shock. As Blake speaks, his gaze never leaves her face.

“My name is Blake Knight and I am an addict. My addiction is Celia Chastley. I was a goner from the moment I first laid eyes on her in her family’s orchard when were eleven years old. She became my best friend, my confidant, the object of my adolescent masturbatory fantasies and my great love. I didn’t understand you then, Celia, when you broke my heart when we were sixteen. That you were sacrificing your happiness for mine. That you recognized the impossibility of our situation when I did not. I shut my eyes and tried to forget you in the arms of another but I was deceiving myself. I was a coward – too afraid to confront the reality of my undying love for you. Please forgive me. Give me a chance and I will prove my constancy and devotion. To hell with our families. To hell with everything. Our love is the only thing that matters in this crazy world. Even now, as my father waits for yours to fall into his trap so he can shoot him dead and plead self-defense, our love will endure. Will you, Celia? Please say yes. I love you so much.” The other members of the group are transfixed, eyes darting between Celia and Blake in mounting expectation. Celia’s eyes are awash with tears. She lurches to her feet and throws herself into his arms. “Oh, Blake!” she cries, “If I have only one life to live, I want it to be with you.” They kiss. The group stands and cheers. It then goes to a commercial break for romantic getaways in District 4. I look at Peeta. He looks at me. It’s as if we’re each looking to the other for how to react. It was funny. So why aren’t we laughing? Plutarch’s words ring heavily in my ears, “You and Peeta are Celia and Blake.” “We’re really not like that, are we? “I ask. “I mean it’s so . . . dumb.” “No, not quite us, but there are a few things in common. What Blake said to Celia is pretty much what I’ve been trying to say to you.” “Oh.” I say nonplussed. Is that what he’s been doing? “Um . . . which parts?” Peeta shifts closer to me on the sofa so that our thighs are touching. “Adolescent masturbatory fantasies.” I pull back, frowning, hot words ready on my lips.

He nudges my shoulder with his. “It’s a joke. Well, actually not quite a joke. You did feature in them quite a lot. But I was Blake. Going around with my eyes shut, too scared to open them in case I remembered how much I love you and then to find out that you didn’t love me back.” “You love me?” I don’t dare look at him. It’s been an impossibility for such a long time, I can scarcely believe it. He was engaged to marry another woman not so very long ago. How can this have happened so quickly? “Since when?” I ask dubiously. If he was expecting a more positive reaction, he doesn’t show it. He takes one of my hands in both of his. “Since I was five years old and you stood up in music assembly to sing the valley song.” I attempt to pull my hand back but he keeps it in a firm grip. He can’t just whitewash the past two years like that. Lace happened. “Then what has Lace been about then? She was just a figment of my imagination?” “No. She was more like a figment of my imagination. I don’t want to discount what I had with her. She’s been a good friend and I’ll always be grateful but a lot of what I felt for her wasn’t real. I’ve gone over this with Dr Aurelius, to make sense of it. She was a coping mechanism in the same way my reluctance to deal with my past was also a coping mechanism. I could give her the feelings I didn’t think you wanted. So, she was sort of you, in a way. I didn’t exactly have a high opinion of myself then either and she didn’t hold back on telling me how wonderful she thought I was. I think I just wanted to make myself feel better.”

Sort of like a rebound then. I want to believe him, I really do. He’s turned to sit sideways, our knees touching, his face close to mine. I look at him beneath my lashes. He’s watching me carefully, with a mixture of hope and uncertainty. Everything that I’m feeling. “Tell me what you’re thinking,” he says. Be honest. “I’m scared. What if what you’re feeling now isn’t real either?’ “I’m scared too. Scared you’ll reject me and there’ll never be another chance. Katniss, I’ve never been more certain about anything in my life.” I turn away momentarily to collect my thoughts. As I do, the television screen comes into my field of vision. Rigger Knight fires the bazooka at Mulch Chastely. It misses his head by inches and zooms past to hit one of the oil rigs in the distance. It explodes into flames and sets off a chain reaction until every one of the oil rigs is a massive ball of fire and thick black smoke. Mulch’s face is a picture of glee until the billowing smoke is picked up by the wind and headed over the border towards his prized apple orchard. The drama hasn’t ended for Celia and Blake. And I know it hasn’t for Peeta and me either. We still have things to work through. And there’s also the television special and whatever fallout there might be. But at least we can do it together.

I let out a breath. “Okay.” “Is that yes?” “Yes,” I answer, more firmly this time. We both lean in and meet somewhere in the middle. A slow, getting-to-know-you-all-over-again kiss. Soft, tender, shy. This is real. Not a daydream, not the reliving of a cherished memory, but real. In between kisses he tells me he loves me. And when I get the chance, I tell him I love him too. Somehow, I end up lying on the couch with him half on top of me. The kisses have long ceased to satisfy either of us. My t-shirt and bra are hitched around my neck, the nipples wet from where he’s sucked on them, and there’s something iron-hard pressing into my lower belly. “I think we should have an early night,” he murmurs into my ear. “I think you’re right.” Our first time together should definitely not be on the couch. The television is still blaring and I grapple for the remote to turn it off but not before catching a glimpse of Celia and Blake writhing like eels on a bed with red satin sheets. We make our way upstairs and down the hall without touching but immediately upon entering the bedroom we fall on each other and start peeling off each other’s clothes. There’s a struggle pulling off my slim-fitting trousers and he grumbles that I shouldn’t have changed out of my dress. I fall backwards onto the bed and then, with a final tug, my trousers with underwear still inside them, are sent flying. I close my eyes and put out my arms hungry to feel his warmth and weight along the full length of my body. But instead, my foot is lifted high into the air and kisses trailed down my leg until he gets to the juncture of my thighs. The first brush of his tongue is a jolt of electricity, the final one a lightning bolt. “Oh,” I say, when I eventually come down. I hold out my arms and he’s inside me, filling a space so completely, so perfectly, I didn’t know there had been a void until now. Nothing has ever felt so right. When we fall, it’s within seconds of each other. We share a slow, lazy kiss before he rolls onto his back and I nestle into the cradle of his arms. My head rests against his chest, the strong and steady beat of his heart in my ear, and it feels like home. I wake before he does. He’s on his back, his face relaxed in sleep. I rise up on one elbow to watch him. The long lashes resting against his cheeks, the curve of his lips. It seems such a miracle that he’s here, in my bed, and that he loves me. I was convinced he was lost to me forever. That by this time, he’d be in his own bed, in his own house, with Lace beside him as his wife. And I would be . . . Well, I don’t know where I’d be. I don’t think I could have stood living across from them for very long. So probably searching for someplace else to live like I once planned to. Certainly not having dinners with them, or having Lace drop by for neighborly chats. I still don’t really know why the wedding was called off. That they both lied is the only explanation I’ve been given. Lied about what? I should ask him. And other questions I have too.

I put out my hand to brush a lock of hair back from his forehead and it’s seized and brought to his lips. “How long have you been awake?” “Not long. I didn’t want to interrupt. Do I pass?” “With flying colors,” I say, and lean down to give him a kiss. His arms go around me and I’m rolled onto my back. The kiss goes on for a long time.

“We should start getting ready for work,” I say, although I make no effort to get up. “Not yet,” he says. And he says it again when we take a shower together. There’s no sign of Haymitch at breakfast. Probably slept in after the excitement of last night’s episode of “One Life to Live.” But we figure that now that we’re genuinely in love, no one needs to tell us how to act. So, we walk into town together as we’re inclined to do anyway, and then meet for lunch again at the park near the school as it’s conveniently situated for both of us. Haymitch is nowhere to be seen at dinnertime either. We delay eating for half an hour in case he turns up but after checking first to see if he’s home – the lights at his house are on – we conclude that he’s decided to leave us alone from now on, and start eating. And delicious it is too. Roast pork with crackling to die for. I guess I’m just a carnivore at heart. Following dinner, we sit down to watch some television. One channel is covering the mayoral elections in 7. Johanna is well ahead in the count and early predictions are that she’ll win by a landslide. Then Peeta flicks between cooking shows. I don’t care what we watch. I lie back on the sofa with my head on the armrest and my feet in Peeta’s lap. I love having my feet and calves rubbed so much, I think it’s almost as good as sex. Later, in bed, I decide that it’s not even close. I am blissed-out, and still tingling from our love-making. I stretch voluptuously, like a cat, bury my face into his neck and sigh, perfectly content. His free hand plays with my hair, gently combing out the tangles. If I could freeze the moment, I would. So, I guess it makes it an odd time to ask the questions I want answers to. But on the other hand, maybe there’ll never be a better.

“Peeta, can I ask you some things?” “Sure.” “Why did you and Lace break up? Was it because she lied about her background?” His hand stills for a moment before going back to my hair. “No, it wasn’t that. I mean, I was disappointed she hadn’t told me herself and angry that everyone seemed to know before I did, but it’s not what broke us up. You remember when I said that what I felt for Lace wasn’t real?” I nod against his chest. “I’d been having doubts for a while – almost soon after we got engaged actually – but after that night I couldn’t ignore it any longer. It was seeing you with Marcus that did it. It wasn’t the first time I’d been jealous. I was jealous over Max, even Arthur, but I’d put it down to being possessive over a friend. But Marcus – it was Gale all over again. He was so obviously in to you and you seemed to like him too. And he loved nature, as you do, and you went into the woods together, and he had both his legs and wasn’t a mental nutcase. And then to see you walk away with him, with his arm around you, upset over something I had done, when I’m the one who should protect you . . .

“As for Lace, I’d almost forgotten she was there. And when I did get around to remembering, she was sobbing her heart out to Arthur. She’d seemed to have forgotten about me too.” There’s another pause and a snort of irritation. “And that Max! “ “What about Max?” I ask warily.

“It was like he was selling tickets to a sideshow. Shrugging his shoulders and gesturing to anyone watching. I don’t know how you tolerate him.” “It has it’s challenges,” I say carefully. “But he does have his good points. They’re just not immediately apparent.” And isn’t that the truth. I recall our first encounters and how much he annoyed me. Still does.

I think I’m starting to get an understanding of Peeta’s relationship with Lace having gone through something similar with Marcus. Desperately in need of affirmation. To feel worthy of love and acceptance. And something, anything, to dull the pain of rejection – either real or imagined – in the arms of another. At least I can take comfort in that there were no hurt feelings when it ended for Marcus and me. “What about Lace?” I ask. “How did she take it?” Peeta gives a short laugh. “She was as relieved to be out of it as I was. While I’d been projecting an image on to her, she’d been doing the same to me. In her case, the celebrity she’d seen and fallen in love with on television. And then she said she realized that she had feelings for Arthur. I doubt she’d admit it, but I think Johanna’s flirting that night had a lot to do with it.” I smile to myself imagining Johanna’s satisfaction that her scheme had worked. She’s pretty people-smart, when you think on it. A useful attribute for a politician to have. “But you didn’t break up straight away.” Peeta was still wearing the ring Lace had given him the day he called around to apologise for yelling at me and to give me cookies. “That’s because neither of us wanted to be the first to tell the other they’d made a mistake. But once it was said, it all came tumbling out. Whatever we once had was gone except maybe friendship and a few superficial things we had in common. A marriage wouldn’t have lasted long.”

Another thing that Johanna had got right. Trying too hard, she called it. It makes sense in retrospect. As doubts surfaced, so would efforts to alleviate it in the form of frequent and overt shows of affection and more money thrown at the wedding, as if a lavish display of either could cover the deepening cracks. One thing puzzles me, though. “Why were you so upset when it ended, then? Johanna told me about the flashbacks.” “I was upset over a lot of things. All that money wasted, feeling like a fool for letting it get that far, but mostly I was upset over you. I thought I had ruined any chance I might have had. And I had no one to blame but myself.” I feel a stirring of guilt. There was someone else to blame. And that was me. I ran hot and cold, giving mixed messages of my own. I could have been more open with him. Risked rejection, see where it led. Because I couldn’t really be certain of anything until I did. And I was the one who put it into his head that Lace was his girlfriend. And that he should marry her. I open my mouth to contradict him but Peeta starts speaking again. “You and Marcus were so cozy that night at the pub, holding hands on the way into town and then making plans for a weekend in the woods together. I just couldn’t get it out of my head, imagining what the two of you were up to. That’s what triggered the attacks. It was jealousy, pure and simple. The same emotion the Capitol worked on to get me to hate you. And after they were brought under control, there was still despair and self-loathing to contend with. How could I have been so blind and stupid?” “I – “

“And then having to watch those tapes. I didn’t want to. I knew the “to be watched with Katniss” label could only have meant two things. It was either confirmation that you’d never loved me, or confirmation that you had, which actually would have been worse, since I’d messed things up so spectacularly.” My mind goes back to that day. Peeta at the door, looking harried and nervous. That speech about us trying for friendship. It’s obvious to me now that he made it because he thought that’s what I wanted. His careful examination of any nuances that would give at least some hope that he was wrong. “I’m so sorry,” I say. “I’ve messed up too. You’ve no idea. I don’t know why you just didn’t leave me to my fate after seeing that video of Marcus and me. I wouldn’t have blamed you. Wanted you to, actually. Weren’t you . . . you know, disgusted?” He pulls me closer and kisses the top of my head. “No. Why should I be, after what I’ve done?” My body stiffens at the implication. That’s right. He’s been in the same situation, only he was lucky enough not to be caught. He’s talking about what he got up to with Lace. The Mayor’s party. When he fucked Miss Facelicker up against a wall. Hot jealousy surges through my veins and it takes all my self-control to squash it down. It’s hardly reasonable is it, for me to feel this way? Not when I practically did the same thing. “Weren’t you even jealous?” I ask. That would make me feel a little better if he had. “Katniss, all that concerned me was that you were in trouble and how I could help.” His arms tighten around me. “I want to protect you, keep you safe. And in some way, begin to make up for the poor job I’ve done of it lately. I just wanted you back. There was simply no room for a petty emotion like jealousy.” Instantly, I’m ashamed of myself. Peeta has always been better than all of us. “You could live a hundred lifetimes and not deserve him.” They were Haymitch’s words, and so true. “Besides,” says Peeta, “You didn’t seem to be enjoying yourself. And who would? Being pounded into against a hard surface like that.” Not jealous, huh? So that’s what he was doing when he kept watching that tape over and over. He was actually studying my facial expressions and taking comfort that I didn’t seem to be having a good time. As if Lace would have enjoyed being whisked into a dark corner on an important night of her life to have her new gown pushed up around her waist and thrust repeatedly into against a hard wall. But I say nothing. At some point you do have to put aside the negativity and move forward or you might as well give it up right now.

But one more question. I’ll always wonder about it if I don’t ask. “Would it have made any difference if I’d told you how I feel about you? You know, when you were going out with Lace? Or before?” There’s a long silence. I wait nervously for the answer. Please say it wouldn’t. Please say it wouldn’t. “It might have. I don’t know. I guess it would have depended on the timing. My mind was so stuck on the impossibility of you loving me, that I might not have heard it. Or not believed it if I had. But it could have changed the trajectory and ended my relationship with Lace sooner.”

Haymitch kept nagging me to. I should have listened to him. Taken that risk and kept on trying until Peeta understood. But then, how could I have known? And when would have been the right moment? Sometime before the marriage proposal, it seems. But not before he’d slept with her and banned me from using his guest room at night. And wasn’t it these two things that had crossed a line for me? There was no going back for us after that. It had changed our relationship irrevocably and we had to come back as two different people. That’s what Arthur said about Celia and Blake. And there was something Max had said too. That if they did get back together, they’d need to bring the same level of experience to it. Celia had to, at least, try another relationship, otherwise Blake would always be the one who’d broken faith and she’d be the one who hadn’t spread her wings while she had the chance. Marcus had to happen. I can’t regret that. Not only because it would betray what we had, but because I would always wonder what it’s like to be with someone not Peeta, when he’s been with someone not me, and possibly resented him for it. “I did tell you this one time. That I love you, I mean. It was when you started to get serious about Lace. We were sitting on your back porch and we got to talking about her. I kept coming up with reasons for why you should be careful of her but what I really wanted was for you to stop seeing her and to notice me. And then I decided to just come straight out and tell you how I felt. But you misunderstood my meaning and said I was like your family and what you needed from me was to accept her. That’s why I never said it again. It hurt so much to hear it the first time, that I didn’t want to risk hearing it again when there was no sign that you’d changed your mind. But I should have. Kept trying. Maybe – “ Peeta doesn’t let me finish. “And maybe I should have faced my demons instead of running from them. And maybe I should have asked about the blanks in my memories instead of filling the spaces with what I thought I knew. And maybe I should have told you of my feelings for you once I became aware of them. And maybe I should have ended my relationship with Lace when I started having doubts. I think if we added up all the ‘maybes’ they’d be mostly on my side. I don’t blame you for any of what happened. It all started with me.” I shake my head. “That’s not true. It started with Snow. That’s where the real blame lies.” We lapse into silence for a few moments. “I wish . . .” I begin. He brushes a tendril of hair from my forehead. “What do you wish?”

I sigh deeply. “That it could have been different. That there’d been no Lace. Or a Marcus. That when you came back from the Capitol there was only the two of us, growing back together. It seems to me that’s the way it was meant to be but somehow it got all messed up.” “Yeah, me too. But we’re together now. That’s what matters.” “I would have liked, at least, for us to have had our first time with each other. I feel like we’ve missed out on something special. We should have . . . before. You know, before we went into the Quell.” There’s a long pause. “Didn’t we?” “No.” “Well, I just thought . . . are you sure?” “Peeta, I would remember something like that. We didn’t. Why would you think that?” “I don’t know. I just thought we did. I remember make-up and showering or something and it was in your room.” “That would have been the night before we went into the arena. After the interviews. But all we did was sleep.” “Oh. I guess I must have imagined it then. There are still memories I can’t be sure of but this one seemed so real.” I pull his face down to mine. “This is what’s real.” I give him a long kiss and then settle back into the crook of his arm. But before I drift off to sleep, my thoughts go to that night before the Quell. I recall pulling Peeta into my room and a state between wakefulness and sleep. But between times is a complete blank. I don’t remember showering for instance. Or Peeta showering. Or of us getting into bed. But we must have. Without thinking, I press my hand to my left temple. Right on the spot where Johanna hit me with the coil of wire. There’s no pain anymore, but the memories swirl just as they did then as I try to sort out what is true and what is false. Maybe . . . maybe, it happened? Peeta and I were very familiar with each other with those kisses on the beach for people who had, up until then, only shared chaste kisses. And it didn’t hurt at all that first time with Marcus. But I just don’t see how I could forget. I roll over onto my other side and Peeta rolls with me, cradling my back. I sink down into sleep, enveloped in his warmth, and dream of seventeen-year-old Katniss and Peeta and their very first time.

Addendum. The following excerpt was discovered among notes made by Katniss Everdeen for her memoir on the Hunger Games and her role in the Rebellion. For reasons unknown, it was not included in the final draft. Historians have speculated that the omission could be due to a number of factors: that it lacked relevance to the central theme of war and oppression, that it was too personal in nature, or because the prose resembles that of a particularly bad romance novel. It is also notable for the difference in point of view narrative from first person to third person. Various theories have been put forward. Does this suggest the introduction of a fantasy element, that this is what author would have liked to have occurred? Or is it due to prudishness on the author’s part? As a teenager, Katniss Everdeen had a reputation for purity. Her memoirs, written when she was in her mid to late thirties, take on the language and tone of the adolescent she was at the time the action takes place. Could this be teenage Katniss distancing herself from her burgeoning sexuality? Evidence to support this is her account of the famous “kisses on the beach” which, in her memoir, was confined to prolonged kissing but in actuality was more akin to heavy petting. In addition, is her tendency to cloak feelings of sexual arousal behind euphemisms such as “that thing,” “a stirring inside my chest,” and kisses that don’t satisfy.

Contentious, but also worthy of consideration, is hijacked Peeta Mellark’s insinuation that more happened on those “nights on the train” than Katniss Everdeen admitted to. Was the accusation simply an attempt to embarrass her in front of her friends, or was this the resurfacing of a genuine memory? Eminent psychiatrist Dr Lucius Aurelius, a descendant of Dr Gaius Aurelius, the same psychiatrist who treated Katniss Everdeen and Peeta Mellark, proposed that Mellark had confused adolescent masturbatory fantasies with reality as a form of wish fulfillment. At the time, he had great difficulty discerning the real from the not real. However, it should be noted, that this recollection, no matter how nebulous, is given greater credence by Everdeen’s own telling of this one event. From “Catching Fire” the second volume of the trilogy “The Hunger Games.” The omitted passages are in italics. We walk down the hallway. Peeta wants to stop by his room to shower off the make-up and meet me in a few minutes, but I won’t let him. I’m certain that if a door shuts between us, it will lock and I’ll have to spend the night without him. Besides, I have a shower in my room. I refuse to let go of his hand. She showers first and while he is in the bathroom, she searches for something he can change into. “This might fit,” she says, holding up a voluminous nightgown with a ruffled high neck. “It won’t fit across the shoulders,” he replies. “Maybe a robe?” She retrieves her discarded robe from the floor and hands it to him. Aside from being too tight around the arms, the front edges don’t come together. “Perhaps you could wear it backwards,” she suggests. “Like a hospital gown.” “That could work,” he says with a wry smile, “Except my backside will be hanging out. I’ll just wear the towel and hope it stays put during the night.”

“It won’t. Look, I’ve seen you almost naked before and you didn’t care about me seeing you then. Don’t wear anything. I don’t mind. I’ll even sleep naked too so it doesn’t seem so strange. I often sleep with nothing on anyway,” she says with a nonchalance she’s far from feeling. She hasn’t forgotten the naked Johanna in the lift or his laughter at her reaction and her so-called “purity”. She’ll show him she’s neither pure nor has a problem with nakedness, either his or her own. She starts to lift the hem of her nightgown but drops it again. “I’ll just turn the lights out,” she says. They get into bed. She lays her head against his chest as she always does and his arms go around her. But the skin-on-skin contact evokes sensations previously not felt before. Her breasts are flattened against his side and she’s conscious of her bare pubis, recently divested of its hair, pressed against his hip. The sensation builds and demands some kind of release. In an attempt to alleviate it, she moves onto her back, and as she does, she inadvertently lowers her arm and it brushes against the tip of something long and hard.

He gasps and tries to twist away from her. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I didn’t mean – “ “It’s all right,” she says quickly. “That happens to boys, doesn’t it? I’m not offended, really.” She had known about, and ignored, other times in bed together when his body had acted without his permission. And this time, with her lying naked next to him, she would have been more offended if his body hadn’t reacted. “Please stay,” she says. “I need you to hold me. I don’t care about that.” He lies back down and she lays her head on his chest but it’s impossible to relax. All her senses are heightened and she’s acutely aware of a corresponding tension in his body. How are they to sleep? And they so need to sleep, tonight of all nights. Who knows when they’ll be able to sleep next? Maybe if they. . .? She agonizes over it, uncertain of what to do. Her experience at this kind of thing is almost non-existent. The most she’d ever done is kissing, and the most she’d ever felt before is a stirring inside her chest. And then to make the first move? She knows it will have to be her because she’s certain that he won’t. He doesn’t even kiss her unless there’s a camera or someone around to witness it. She can guess why. It’s because he’s not sure of her. He doesn’t want what happened before to happen again. Very gradually, she lowers her arm again, over his ribs, over his taut abdomen. There’s an intake of breath and she can feel the rigidity of his muscles. Lower goes the arm until it glances against that thing again. With almost certain death in the arena perhaps only hours away, this might be her last chance to engage with one. She gathers her courage and puts out a timorous hand to encircle its girth and is amazed at how soft it is over the steel. He moans but makes no attempt to take her hand away. She’s unsure how to proceed and moves her hand gently up and down the shaft. She doesn’t want to hurt him. He puts out a hand to encircle hers, tightens her grip and gives a firm tug. He takes his hand away and, taking his cue, discovers that the tighter and faster she employs her hand, the more intensely he reacts to it, until there’s a series of shudders and a viscous liquid spurts out over her hand. She discretely wipes it on the sheet. “Thank you,” he says, and kisses her softly on the lips. Then, shyly, “Would it be okay if I touched you?” “Yes,” she breathes. She moves onto her back and opens her limbs. Reverently, he starts at her shoulder, trailing his fingers down to her ribs, skirting her breast, and then back up, cupping it fully, thumb brushing against the nipple. A pulse beats insistently between her legs and she shivers.

“Do you like that?” he asks.

“Mm,” she murmurs. She parts her legs a little more in anticipation, willing him to take his exploration there next. But he takes his time, skimming the curve of her waist and then her hip and inner thigh, perhaps hesitant, perhaps teasing. Either way it gives rise to the most exquisite torture. Please, please, she silently begs. And then his fingertips softly trace the line of her sex, pressing deeper between the slippery folds, finding first a cavity into which he inserts a gentle finger, and then higher up, encountering a hard little nub that elicits the most intense of sensory delights. “Oh,” she cries, and with that small word she eloquently conveys the place where he should focus his attention. With the lightest touch, he strokes and circles, keenly attune to how her body reacts to him. He covers her mouth with his own as she hurtles towards the pinnacle, and with one delicate flick of his finger, she tumbles down, down, down into an abyss of the purest pleasure. “That was amazing,” she says between kisses and he smiles against her mouth. He’s half lying across her, and she becomes aware of that long hard thing again. It’s seemingly sprung back to life. She takes it in her hand feeling its weight and length, and thinks, “This should be inside me.” She turns towards him and guides him between her legs. He needs no further encouragement. Lying fully over her now, he presses his hardness at her entrance and she tenses at the unfamiliar intrusion. “You need to relax,” he tells her. She nods and turns her attention to loosening her muscles and more of him glides in. There’s a kind of burning, but not too unpleasant. A final push and he’s all the way in. He moves slowly at first, but then, seemingly overcome with passion, and with a few vigorous thrusts, he finds his release and collapses on top of her, panting against her neck. She kisses his brow and brushes back his damp hair.

“Sorry,” he says. “I couldn’t – “ “It’s okay. There’ll be . . .” she starts to say but then stops. By this time tomorrow, one or both of them could be dead and there will be no other times. She begins again. “I’m glad I did it. And with you.” He kisses her and moves onto his back. His arm is around her shoulders and she rests her head against his chest. “I love you,” he says. She doesn’t say it back. It doesn’t seem the right time, somehow. But she takes his hand and kisses it. Do we sleep? I don’t know. We spend the night holding each other, in some halfway land between dreams and waking. Not talking. Both afraid to disturb the other in the hope that we’ll be able to store up a few precious minutes of rest. Cinna and Portia arrive with the dawn, and I know Peeta will have to go. Tributes enter the arena alone. He gives me a light kiss. “See you soon,” I answer.

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tatooedlaura-blog · 6 years

Text

Lost Keys

yes, yes, the throwback to end all throwbacks for me ...

my first fic written in 1997 in the midnight darkness of my bedroom in my parents house by the light of a 10" TV with pencil on a yellow legal pad at the tender age of 21 ...

All errors, in both grammar and punctuation, are original ... I chose to correct just one time notation from the Gossamer post way back when ...

&&&&&&&&&&

Lost Keys:

"Come on Scully, what else are you going to do on vacation? Read 'Breakfast at Tiffany's', vacuum that little dog of yours?”

"So instead of relaxing and yes, probably reading that book you refer to so affectionately -- you want me to go up to your mother's cabin in Quonochataug and help you clean?"

"Yup, that about covers it."

"We see enough of each other here, why would I want to spend my vacation with you as well?"

"Because I'd miss you horribly and you know that if you're not around Scully, I'll get myself into loads of trouble and you'll have to come bail me out."

"Sadly enough Mulder, I wouldn't put it past you. Now, why do you really want me to go?"

"'Cause if you wield a paint brush as well as you wield a gun," ruefully rubbing his shoulder and giving Scully a sly little grin, "the job will get done faster and I won't have to call you and complain, waking you up at the most hideous hours of the night. Think of it Scully, it'll be a nice trip to the forest

"Mulder, may I remind you of what happened the last time you promised me a 'nice trip to the forest'"

"Oh yeah. Sorry about that."

"Mulder ..."

"Yeah?"

"What time do we leave?"

"You really mean it."

"Why do you suddenly sound disappointed?"

"'Cause I spent half the day coming up with reasons to get you to go. I haven't even got to the good ones yet."

"Well, save them Mulder, you may need to use them to persuade me not to shoot you again once the mosquitoes start attacking and the poison ivy sets in."

"Ah Scully, they'll stop attacking once they find out that your not as sweet as people think you are."

After threatening to throw the stapler at him, Scully picked up her briefcase and started for the door.

"I'll be by to pick you up at seven a.m. tomorrow, and thanks again, you won't regret it."

"No, but you may. I tend to snore; quite loudly I might add, when I feel the need to take revenge."

With that said - she straightened Mulder's tie, gave him a quick grin and slid out the door-leaving Mulder with a straightened tie and his mouth hanging open - amazed that even after five years, his partner still knew how to take him by surprise.

Mulder picked her up a little after seven. He put her things in the car and they set out on the three hour drive to Quonochataug.

"Well Scully, we have arrived." Mulder announced much later in the day.

"And to think, it only took us five and a half hours to get here."

"How was I to know about the construction. At least we got the scenic route."

"It seems that we always end up on the scenic route. Cows and all."

"Really, dear Dr. Scully, after all we've seen together, you feel the need to complain about the cows."

"It's not the cows themselves but the noxious gases that emerge from them."

"I didn't smell anything unusual," Mulder replied, with his blue eyes twinkling.

"Fine Mulder, and I have just been made director of the FBI."

"Well director, how do you like the place?"

"I've seen it before, remember."

"Yeah, but this time it's light and you're not trying to keep me from destroying myself in the process."

After a slight pause , Scully turned to Mulder, "you know, this place really is quite nice. I think I can handle a few days here. Especially if it means I may find some incriminating evidence on you - such as the ever popular bear skin rug photograph."

"Well Scully, in order to find such horrendous stuff, I guess we're going to have to get to work. Here, catch."

Scully snatched the keys out of the air in a clean swoop and went to unlock the door as Mulder got out their bags.

Once Scully had gotten into the house however, she forgot all her misgivings about coming here for vacation-the house really was wonderful, incredibly dusty, but perfect. Scully could just imagine Mulder as a child, running through here with Samantha, playing games with her, telling her stories.

She was jolted out of her daydream by the sound of her partner's voice behind her.

"Are you gonna stand in the door all day or just until my arms decide to fall off?"

Scully gave a small grin and without turning around "you shouldn't have carried them all at once. Contrary to popular belief, you are not superman."

"But I could play him on TV" Mulder replied, then he grunted and dropped everything onto the front hall floor.

"So what do you think Scully?" he asked with a smile.

She turned, put a hand on his chest without thinking and said "it's even better than I could have imagined. The last time I was here, I was too frightened to get any kind of look around."

"For that Scully," he said in a sad tone "I apologize. I don't plan on doing that to you ever again - trust me. Now, how about a tour before lunch"

"Lunch - you were actually serious about cooking," Scully said, "I assumed you were just toying with me. I figured I'd be cooking all week."

"What" Mulder replied, looking both shocked and amused, "did you think I survive off of when I'm at home?"

In an equally amused tone, Scully replied, "sunflower seeds, ice tea and whatever you bum off of me"

"My dear, you are in for one big surprise."

After the tour of the house, which included two nice size bedrooms, a large living room, an even larger sun porch and a small but efficient kitchen; Mulder made a rather appetizing turkey sandwich with the food they had brought with them.

Looking over the top of her sandwich, "Mulder ..."

"Yeah," he replied through a large bite of the sandwich.

"Did you tell Skinner that I was coming up here with you?"

"Yeah, I said my mom recruited you to clean gutters and repaint the walls."

Laughing, Scully asked about Skinner's reaction

"Well," replied Mulder, "he told me to make sure you weren't abducted, eaten, held at gun point, threatened to be killed, chased by the Enigma or trapped by a giant tape worm. Then he told me to thank you for coming along because who knows how much trouble I could get into without you."

"Everybody seems to think that you'd fall apart without me."

Mulder got up and crouched next to her chair, "Well Scully, I'd have to say I agree with them. Without you there next to me, I'd have checked out of here a long time ago."

Scully briefly put her fingers on his cheek then playfully tweaked his ear, " I guess what they say is true - best friends do stick together through everything - and believe me, we've seen everything."

For the briefest of moments, something passed between them and they held each other's gaze; then Mulder's stomach let out an incredible growl and both started to laugh.

After finishing up their lunch and as they were cleaning up, Mulder's cell phone rang.

It turned out to be his mother, telling them both that she was sorry but she wouldn't be able to make it up there until later in the week.

"She said that one of her good friends is coming home after hip surgery and their is no one to take care of her until a couple of days from now."

Scully had been able to gather this information from Mulder's half of the conversation. She had tried not to listen, but sometimes it was just so hard to ignore that voice of his.

"Well, what do you propose we do now, Dr. Scully?"

"Well, Mr. Mulder, I propose that you wipe that mustard off your chin and then we take a look at what needs to be done."

"You mean you still want to stay."

"Sure, besides, " grabbing a handful of red hair on either side of her head, "I refuse to sit in that car again - with your voice on one side of me and Elvis' on the other - I think I'd go crazy long before the New Hampshire border."

By the time they had mapped out all that had to be done, night was fast approaching and both agents had begun to yawn after their long day.

"Well Mulder, where should we sleep?"

"Why Scully," Mulder said with that innocent look, "I didn't know you cared - I prefer the left side of the bed but it's always lady's choice with me."

"Mulder," Scully said good naturedly, "if I wasn't so tired, I'd throw something at you but as you can see, I can hardly keep my eyes open. I'd probably aim too low and hit something more important than your shoulder."

"Scully, don't tempt me with such a proposition."

"If you don't tell me which bedroom I'm sleeping in, I'm going to fall asleep right here and you'll have to carry me upstairs. Just remember that the human body weighs almost twice as much when asleep."

"Again Scully," replied Mulder, "don't tempt me with such a proposition like that. For tonight, we have to sleep downstairs because those sheets haven't been changed in about a year and their is way to much dust to sleep to tonight. We'll air them out in the mornings."

"So I'm guessing I get the couch and you get the floor, unless you want to sleep in the tub."

"Ahh Scully, you know me too well."

After they both had found blankets and got settled, Mulder suddenly jumped up and turned on the light at the end of the hall.

"Why'd you do that," Scully asked.

"Because I know that you hate sleeping in total darkness."

Scully just looked at him in amazement.

"Hey Scully," Mulder said with one raised eyebrow, "I do pay attention to things outside the X-Files."

Mulder lay down in his old sleeping bag on the floor and called a playful goodnight to the still dumfounded Scully on the couch next to him.

Mulder awoke with a start when something fell on him from above. He opened his eyes and smiled when he realized that his partner's hand had slid off the couch and landed on his chest. He was about to slide her hand back next to her when the moonlight from the window illuminated a faint scar between her thumb and forefinger. He reached up to touch it and discovered just how soft his best friend's hand really was. The only times he had ever held her hand was to help her up or when he took something she was offering. He had never been able to inspect those small hands like he wanted to. After tracing her fingers and the back of her hand, he turned it over and lightly caressed her palm. The callous on her finger from the trigger on her gun. How often she had to save him by drawing her weapon and destroying the enemy? He could hardly keep track anymore. Without realizing it, he had begun to move up her arm. Suddenly a familiar voice jolted him out of his contentment.

"What in the world are you doing Mulder? For a minute I thought you were a huge and hideous bug." Scully asked.

Mulder, stammering like a school boy (but not letting go of her hand), "Your hand fell on me and woke me up and I saw a scar and then I tried to put your hand back next to you and I realized ... did you know you have very soft hands ... I'm sorry."

He said everything in such a rush that Scully had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. Truth was, she had been woken up when her hand fell and she hadn't stopped him because she enjoyed his intimate touch more than she wanted to admit.

"It's all right Mulder, really."

In order to break up the awkward feeling that suddenly filled the air, Scully said, "well, since we're up anyway, how 'bout a snack. I'm starving."

Grateful for the distraction, Mulder replied "you really are an eating machine aren't you?"

"Does this mean you won't be joining me in some food?"

"God no ... point me towards the kitchen woman."

After making some sandwiches, both returned to the couch.

Looking at her hands, Scully remarked "I didn't even realize that scar was visible anymore."

"Where'd it come from. I didn't do it did I?" Mulder asked with a worried look on his face.

"Oh no. I got this when I was 14 and I snuck one of my mom's cigarettes. I was so scared I was going to be caught that I forgot it was lit and the ashes fell and burned my hand. After that I decided that me and cigarettes did not mix."

"Dr. Scully, you rebel. I guess that red hair of yours represents your wild side huh?"

"You think that was wild. My senior year in high school, I decided to get into the school spirit and dye my hair for the homecoming game. Mind you, the school colors were purple and yellow."

Mulder smirked, "this doesn't have the makings of anything good."

"You could say that again. Everything was fine until I tried to wash it out. When I emerged from the shower, my hair was a hideous shade of puke green with pumpkin orange streaks."

"Oh please, Scully, tell me your mother took a picture, please."

"No such luck darlin'. Anyway, my dress was a wine red color so in the end I looked like something from Dr. Seuss. My date tried to make me feel more attractive by thinking he could get more that one kiss. To make a long story short, he wound up with a heel scar on his shin and a bloody nose and I got to sit on the bleachers the rest of the evening."

"Now I know why you skipped your reunion. I am sorry. You must have felt awful."

"Well Mulder, worse things have happened since then but that still ranks up there with the best of them. By the way, if you don't wipe that smirk off your face Mulder, I may be forced to disown you."

"Sorry Scully, I was just picturing you decking that guy. I'd have cheered for you" Suddenly turning serious, "I would have danced with you Scully. I would have been happy to be their with you because, green hair and all, you still would have been beautiful."

Luckily, it was dark enough that she couldn't quite see the crimson creeping up Mulder's cheeks and he couldn't quite see the surprised but happy twinkle in her blue eyes.

Scully looked at Mulder and suddenly asked "are you sure you're not Eddie Van Blunht in a Mulder disguise again?"

Both laughed at this comment and Mulder said mischievously "no, but am I coming close?"

With that, Mulder pushed Scully back down on the couch, then flopped onto the floor.

A few moments later, Scully slipped her hand over the side of the couch, gently laid it back on Mulder's chest and fell sound asleep - as did Mulder with his hand on hers.

Scully woke up slowly. It took her a second to realize where she was (in their line of work, both rarely stayed in one place for very long). When she did, she decided to wake up Mulder with a pillow to the head. Scully slung her pillow full force over the side of the couch and was surprised when all she hit was floor. Mulder was already up but it was too quiet for him to actually be in the house. Scully got up and shuffled her way to the kitchen. It was there that she found a note from Mulder saying that he went to the store for food because he was tired of turkey and ham. Scully grabbed herself a banana, a piece of bread and a glass of water and headed onto the porch to eat her breakfast in the sun. She also took "From Outer Space" with her because she knew that Mulder would never be quiet enough for her to read in peace.

About a half hour later, Mulder got back to the house. He took the groceries in and set them on the counter. He noticed the back door was open so he walked around to tell Scully he was back. He peered around the door and found her engrossed in a novel. The way the sun was reflecting of her hair and that look of total contentment on her face made him stand quietly and forget everything but her.

She looked up suddenly and was shocked to see Mulder standing in the doorway, looking at her. He jumped, she jumped, he smiled and she just couldn't seem to keep a silly grin off her face.

"Good morning Scully. I trust you slept well considering when I got up this morning I could have rolled a bulldozer over you and you wouldn't have moved."

"I don't recall having slept that good in a long time."

"Ah Scully, I was sleeping next to you, how could you NOT be content."

"Yes Mulder that has to be it. Now, what kind of food did you get us?"

"Don't tell me your hungry again. At this rate, you might actually get fat in about four years."

"Mulder, when I'm not worrying about the x-files, my job, the world in general or you, I actually have an appetite and I love to eat."

"Well then, I guess I'm gonna have to stop doing things to worry you."

"Mulder, if I didn't have you to worry about, my life would cease to have any purpose at all. Besides, I kind of like worrying about you."

"Well, I'll just have to keep up the good work after all. I brought us normal food. Lettuce, tomatoes, and green peppers for some salad. Frozen pizza, more sunflower seeds, ice tea and some Ho-Ho's which, if you're nice to me, I'll let you share. I also got some meat for the carnivorous side of us."

"Again Mulder, you have discovered a way to shock me. Up until now, I still didn't think you had any idea of what a supermarket was or what types of food they had in them."

Digging back into the bags. Scully emerged holding a bottle of wine with an accusative look on her face and one eyebrow raised. "What are you planning on doing with this, Mr. Mulder. Seduce me over ho-ho's and sunflower seeds?"

Turning slightly red, "I figured it would taste good and I know that you like red wine. It is a vacation after all."

"Well thank you. And you made a pretty good choice too."

Brightening, Mulder replied, "I figured. You have the same kind in your refrigerator at home." Without missing a beat, he asked Scully, "did you know that you're still wearing you pajamas?"

"Well, I figure you've seen me in less and never yelled so I decided to get in as much reading as I could 'cause once you got back here, you weren't going to give me a minutes peace."

"Yup, you're right."

While Scully was changing, Mulder put the rest of the food away

"Where do you think we should start."

He heard Scully's voice before he saw her. She came into the kitchen putting her hair in a ponytail. He had to laugh. She had on a ratty old pair of jean shorts and an FBI academy shirt. Her socks were a faded out green and she had on tennis shoes, actual honest to goodness shoes, no dress clothes for his partner this vacation.

"I wouldn't laugh. Have you looked in a mirror today, oh partner of mine?"

"Yes and as usual, I liked what I saw. You're wearing real clothes Scully. I didn't think they even existed in your world."

"Well, a person has to dig far back in the closet but they're there, just waiting to be destroyed while helping you," Scully admitted.

"If only you had your green hair. Now that would be a picture."

Suddenly she took off after him and he almost fell trying to get out the door. She chased him through the trees. Mulder stopped dead in his tracks in front of her, causing her to crash into the back of him. She peered over his shoulder and saw why he had stopped. They had come across a little clearing and in one of the bigger trees, a tree house sat with a ladder leading up to it.

"Is it yours," Scully asked in a hushed voice, not wanting to break the spell of the place.

"Mine and Samantha's," Mulder said, just as softly.

Scully had this sudden urge and without stopping herself, she reached for his hand and held it tightly. He was surprised by the touch but as she held his hand, a warmth began to spread up his arm and he was reluctant to let go, so he didn't.

"We used to bring our bologna sandwiches up here and eat. We would race to the ladder and whoever lost had to clean up the mess before we went in for the night. We'd play Stratego and card games. She never quite got the hang of poker though."

"You taught an seven year old poker?" Scully asked with her eyes wide.

"Sure. Want to learn?" Mulder asked amusingly. "Didn't you brothers ever show you?"

"Actually, I taught them how to play although I haven't picked up a deck in a while."

"Well now. A challenge. I believe we have found our entertainment for the evening."

Mulder turned her around and led her back through the trees, never letting go of her hand.

Feeling his strong grip, Scully couldn't help but think of another evening entertainment but she decided she wouldn't mention it . With an embarrassed grin, she decided that holding his hand was good enough for the moment.

They emerged from the woods and stood looking at the house.

"Where should we start Scully? We can work from the inside out or from the outside in. Which would you prefer?"

"Well, we should probably clean out the bedrooms so we have some place to sleep tonight, then start outside because the weather is gorgeous right now."

"Hey, what was wrong with where we slept last night?"

Jokingly she replied, "aside from the fact that you still have carpet marks on your face, nothing."

"I know. You just couldn't stand to be sleeping that close to me for fear of what you might do to me in the dark of night. Heart pounding, mind racing because I was only mere inches away from you. I understand perfectly."

He somehow managed to say all this with a straight face but as soon as he glanced at Scully, he burst out laughing at the comical expression on her face. He assumed it was there because of his comments, Scully knew better however. He had come so close to the truth without realizing it that she had to laugh herself. Both didn't say another word as they walked into the house and back upstairs to the bedrooms.

When they had finished upstairs (or at least enough to be able to sleep there later on), Mulder and Scully headed outside and began to work there. Mulder cleaned the gutters and the chimney while Scully went to work on the yard surrounding the house. They worked in companionable silence. It was a nice, comfortable quiet. Something they never got to share when they were at the office or on a case. The day passed swiftly and by seven o'clock, Scully's stomach was growling a protest to not being fed and Mulder finally threw down his tools and dropped onto the lawn next to them.

Scully sat down next to him, "well sir, I would say that we've done a good days work. How 'bout we put some of this stuff away, then go throw the pizza in the oven."

Mulder answered her with closed eyes, "or we could just stay here until tomorrow morning."

"No such luck, my good man. I need a shower badly and from the smell, so do you. Come on, if this all works out right, we'll be eating in an hour and I know how much you love your pizza."

She got to her feet and held out he hand to Mulder. She hauled him up and together, they cleaned up after a long days work.

After putting the pizza in the oven, "Hey Mulder, you want the shower first," Scully called from across the room.

"No, go on. I'm way to comfortable even to think about moving, let alone actually doing it." Comfortable he was, sprawled on the couch with his feet dangling over the arm. He was also enjoying the thought of his friend in the shower. He quickly dismissed that thought however, because if he continued, he might go crazy. He decided a quick nap was in order, if only to distract him from the thought of Scully.

About 20 minutes later, Scully came back down into the kitchen; glad to have gotten rid of all the grime on her body. She walked into the living room to tell Mulder the shower was free and found him still sprawled out on the couch with a mysterious smile on his face. As she approached, Scully realized that Mulder was asleep. He looked more content than she had ever seen him and she didn't have the heart to wake him. Instead she went to the kitchen and quietly made a salad, dug up some paper plates and forks to set the table. The timer went off for the pizza and as it was sitting, Scully went to wake up Mulder. She leaned over Mulder's head gently began to tap the end of his nose. After a moment, Mulder opened his eyes and was met with the image of an upside down Scully sticking her tongue out at him.

"I don't know whether to kiss you or to scream," Mulder replied, grabbing the sides of her head.

"I'd be careful which you choose Mulder. Remember, I control the pizza and either choice could have dire consequences."

Scully wriggled out of his grasp and whacked his head with a pillow before going back to the kitchen. Mulder followed close behind, knowing full well which choice he would have picked.

Both the salad and the pizza were eaten rather quickly and sloppily. As Scully took her last bite, Mulder glanced up and started to laugh when he saw pizza sauce all over her nose and mouth. With a sickening realization, he saw that it was blood and not sauce.

At first Scully couldn't figure out why Mulder had turned pale all of a sudden. She wiped her face with her napkin; then she saw what was frightening Mulder. It was blood from her nose that she had felt.

Quickly she put the napkin to her nose and went to the bathroom upstairs. The bleeding stopped after a minute and Scully was about to go downstairs when she caught Mulder's reflection in the mirror behind her. She turned to look at him and saw the fear in his eyes.

"Mulder, the doctor said this might happen if I did a lot of strenuous work. I was bent over half the day and I guess the pressure built up."

"I thought the surgery made you better?" Mulder asked in a voice that nearly broke Scully's heart.

Moving towards him and putting a hand on his arm, "it did Mulder, it did. If you hadn't found a doctor willing to try; I would not be here today. The surgery was experimental and they weren't sure of the side effects, but remember the most important thing --- they got to the cancer before it spread too much. A slight nose bleed now and then is nothing compared to before." Looking up at him with a gentle smile, "you helped to give my life back Mulder. I'm not gonna let that gift go to waste."

"Scully, I want you to know that I'd do it all again."

"I know Mulder. Now, how about we forget this and go clean up the kitchen 'cause I'll be damned it I'm going to clean it up tomorrow."

Around 9:30 pm, Scully let out a yawn that nearly split her head in two.

"You can't be tired yet Scully, you haven't been fed in almost an hour and a half. We should be eating again. Maybe my watch is wrong."

"Cute Mulder."

"Yes, I try. Why don't you go to bed. I'll lock up down here."

"Why so generous? Is the boogie man hiding upstairs?"

"Possibly, at least he was when Sam was little. I've still got to take a shower anyway." =0D "Who am I to look a generous deed in the mouth. See you in the morning Mulder."

He watched her walk up the stairs. She must have felt him looking at her because she turned and asked, "you sure you're all right?"

"Fine, now go to bed because I don't have the energy to carry your sleeping body up the stairs tonight."

With that, Scully called good night again and made her way upstairs. She knew something was bothering her partner but she decided not to push it.

Mulder, meanwhile, locked everything up and headed for the shower. After standing under the near scalding water for about ten minutes, he dried himself and crawled into bed.

He awoke about 12:30 am and couldn't get back to sleep. He had been dreaming of Scully, Cancerman and his sister. The perfect makings for a nightmare, he thought bitterly. If only Cancerman had kept away, it would have been a far nicer dream. Tossing and turning for about twenty minutes; Mulder finally got up, put his FBI academy shirt on and made his way out to the hammock he and Scully had found and hung that morning. He tried to be quiet but he knew his partner would hear him and make her way down to him eventually, which was what he needed her to do.

Scully, in the meantime, heard Mulder go outside and when she peered out the window, she saw him sitting in the hammock. She waited a few minutes to give him time to collect his thoughts; then she grabbed the blanket, knowing he wouldn't have taken one himself and went outside.

Mulder heard the kitchen door shut and a few seconds later a familiar voice say, "is this net taken?"

He looked up and shook his head no. She sat down next to him and both were silent for a time.

"How did you know to come out here Scully? How do you always know when I need you?"

"Well, you always make just enough noise to wake me -intentionally or unintentionally. Also, we seem to know each other better than everyone else. I just feel it and come find you, where ever you are."

"Well Scully, I really do need you now," Mulder said quietly.

"Why ..." Scully asked, putting her hand just next to his.

"Scully, when I saw you today, with the blood and all, I've never felt more scared. I thought it was all starting again. I couldn't bear to watch that happen to you again. It would kill me to know you were in pain, to have you hurting and knowing that I could only stand by and watch." He grabbed her hand and held it as though his life depended on it. "Today, when I saw you like that, my whole world crumbled for a moment. That three minutes while you were upstairs were pure hell. I don't want to come so close to losing you again, ever." His voice cracking as he said these last words.

Mulder dared to glance over at Scully and was surprised to see tears in his eyes. He reached out to wipe away the ones that had fallen and this simple gesture undid her composure completely. She leaned on Mulder's chest and cried without restraint. Mulder felt his own tears falling, so he held her tightly and waited till she had finished.

She looked up at him with a tear stained face and gave him one of her 'Mulder, you're absolutely wonderful' kind of smiles. He smiled back, then shivered when he realized he was cold. Scully felt this and covered them both with the blanket. She had him lay down, and slipping down beside him with her head on his chest, she tucked the blanket around them. Mulder wrapped his arm around her and put his head back.

"You know Scully, I spend so much time looking for things from the stars that I never stop to look at the stars anymore."

"Stars are some of the few things left that are truly beautiful. No matter how much a person knows about them, they still have a mysterious quality that keeps them beautiful; even to the most pragmatic study."

"They're not the only things in my world that are truly beautiful," Mulder whispered into the top of Scully's head.

"Mulder ..."

"Yeah"

"I'll never leave you again, I promise."

"And I'll never let you go."

These last phrases were said so softly that they could hardly be heard with the ears but they were heard clearly within the hearts.

Around 4:00 am, Mulder awoke first. He glanced down and saw his partner's head on his chest with her red hair splayed across his arm. He was gripping Scully tightly too him and her arm was tucked around him. He decided that he could get used to waking up like this. He chuckled silently at the thought of Skinner finding them in such a position. Mulder decided that he had better savor the feeling of complete comfort and safety while he had his chance. He planted a light kiss on the top of Scully's head and then fell back asleep.

Scully felt Mulder's kiss and decided not to fight the warm feeling that spread through her. She left her head on Mulder's chest and listening to the gentle rhythm of his heartbeat, she relaxed in the safety of his arms and returned to sleep as well.

Mulder woke up slowly about 7:30 am. He felt Scully to stir as well.

"Scully," he said softly, "are you awake?"

"Not if I have anything to say about it," was the muffled reply. "I hadn't planned on moving quite yet."

"I hate to tell you this doctor, but my bladder is about to explode and I didn't want to dump you on the lawn without warning."

Scully laughed and moved over. He almost ran into the house and Scully followed behind with the blanket.

A minute later, Mulder come back downstairs to find Scully curled up on the couch, still half asleep. He flopped down next to her and, putting his head on her shoulder, started to snore obnoxiously loud. She gave him a half smile and playfully plugged his nose.

"So, what are you making me for breakfast Mulder?"

"Well, what would you and your bottomless stomach like?"

"Something that will hold me until at least 11 o'clock."

"There's not food enough in this house to do that, so will you settle for some fruit, toast, tea and possibly some cereal?"

Heaving a huge sigh and looking at him with sparkling blue eyes, "I guess I'll survive."

Pinching her nose in return, Mulder asked "can I redeem myself if I bring the food to you so you won't have to move an inch?"

"I believe you can, although then I'd have to lose all respect for you and refer to you as house boy for the rest of the day."

"I can live with that."

He came back to the couch with the food on a tray and some flowers stuck in a glass, he also had on an apron and a towel over his arm.

"For you, madam Scully," Mulder said in his most atrocious French accent.

Scully couldn't stand it any longer. She let out a laugh so loud Mulder almost dropped the tray. He set it down in front of her and turned to leave the room.

"Aren't you going to stay and eat," Scully asked, finally able to control her laughter.

"Fraternizing with the staff, madam Scully. Isn't that against the rules?"

"Since when have we ever played by the rules, huh?"

"Good point." Mulder sat down next to her and they proceeded to polish off breakfast.

Neither spoke of what had happened between them the before but both felt closer to the other than ever. Nothing needed to be said, really.

After putting the dishes in the kitchen and getting dressed, Scully found Mulder sitting on the porch steps. She sat next to him. "What's to be done today, house boy?"

Smirking at her, "well, we should work inside today because we really shouldn't add anymore sun to the burns we got yesterday. Especially you. You burn easier and faster than my mother's pork chops and those go up in flames like that (snapping his fingers)."

"Better watch it or that name will remain permanently, including while at the office. Besides, you're right. Point me in the direction of a scrub brush. I'm ready to work an appetite."

Getting up, Mulder looked at Scully, "why am I not surprised."

Somehow, they managed to work through lunch and around five, Scully's stomach told her about the mistake. She had just finished scrubbing the bathroom floor, so she wandered around the house calling Mulder's name. She found him buried in the hall closet, washing walls. He finished his wall, backed out of the closet and found Scully behind him.

"Nice view," she said with amusement.

"Glad I could be of service." He walked around behind her, "not so bad yourself," nodding his head in approvement. He swatted her with a towel and scooted out the door before she could react.

Scully went to the kitchen and saw Mulder pulling the steaks out of the fridge, along with a can of peas from the cupboard.

"Give me 45 minutes Scully and you'll have a hell of a meal to quiet that stomach of yours."

Scully went back to clean up her stuff, then she picked up Mulder's mess in the hall as well. It was the least she could do considering she hadn't eaten this good in a long time. She also had time to take a quick shower.

She returned about half an hour later to find the table set, the food cooking and the bottle of wine on the table. Also, Mulder's box of Ho-Ho's was sitting on the counter, waiting for desert. Mulder breezed past her, saying he was going to take a shower and threatening her if she touched anything. She sat on the counter and ten minutes later he returned. He put the food on the table and retrieved the steaks from the broiler. Scully was about to open the wine but Mulder took the bottle from her hands,

"Not tonight, I'm the house boy, remember?"

He poured them both a glass and sat down across from Scully.

"Everything looks fabulous Mulder. Remind me never to doubt your cooking abilities again."

They began eating and halfway through, Mulder filled both glasses again, at Scully's request. This shocked him; usually they only had one glass apiece. By the time dinner was eaten, they had finished the bottle. They washed the dished and Scully picked up the box of Ho-Ho's, taking them out onto the porch. Mulder hesitated a moment, then retrieved the second bottle which he had placed in the refrigerator that morning. He carried it and the two glasses out to the porch as well.

"I hope you don't mind but I brought a second bottle," Mulder said sheepishly.

"I figured you were hiding one somewhere but I couldn't find it," she replied with a raised eyebrow and a smile.

"I hid it behind the refrigerator. I was hoping you wouldn't find it because I knew you'd yell at me."

"No. It tastes to good to be mad at you," Scully said, pouring herself a glass.

He opened the box of Ho-Ho's and they proceeded to finish both them and the bottle.

Scully got up a while later and walked over to the railing. "There's a storm coming," she said, looking at the lightning flashing in the distance, although it was to far away to hear the thunder.

Mulder came up behind her and put his hands on her back. Unconsciously, he began to rub her neck and shoulders. He could feel the knots in her muscles from scrubbing all day, so he continued.

Scully felt her body relax from the wine but more from Mulder kneading her shoulders and back. She let her head fall forward and let out a sigh of contentment. After a few minutes, Scully turned and started to work on Mulder's neck. Both began to yawn from the wine and from the gentle caresses. Without a word, both went inside, turned out the lights and went up to their rooms - calling a soft goodnight before closing their doors.

A crash of thunder woke Scully and for a moment, she had no idea where she was. She remembered a second later and realized she had broken out in a cold sweat. Ever since the stormy night Duane Barry had taken her, Scully had been terrified of thunderstorms; although she would never admit it to anyone but her dog. She told herself to stop being ridiculous but in the middle of the night while still under the effects of the alcohol, her mind began to race. First a branch hit the window, then she saw a shadow in the corner of her room. The next thing she knew, Scully was standing next to Mulder's bed.

"Scully, what's wrong? Are you all right?" his voice and eyes full of concern.

"Please don't laugh but ever since Duane Barry, I've hated storms and the dog's not here to talk to and there's a branch hitting the window and I keep seeing shadows." She said all this in a rush, blushing furiously but visibly shaken.

Without a work, Mulder lifted the covers and motioned for her to get in. She did so gratefully and at that moment, the storm arrived full force. Scully buried her head in Mulder's chest and curled into a ball. Mulder just held on, stroking her hair and telling her that he wouldn't let anything hurt her again. A couple of minutes later, the storm slowed for the moment and he whispered in Scully's ear, "at least we won't have to wash to windows outside tomorrow."

Scully relaxed a little at this. She lifted her head and found herself looking directly into Mulder's eyes. She held the gaze for a moment, then leaned forward and gave Mulder a kiss on the chin. She put her head beck down and molded herself against him as the storm picked up intensity again. Scully felt Mulder drop a kiss on her head, then on the tip of her nose. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and as they both relaxed in each other's arms; they slept.

Around 5:30, Scully woke up because she felt something laying on her. She opened her eyes slowly and discovered Mulder sound asleep with his head on her stomach. Scully realized that she had taken his pillow and she figured that sometime during the night, he must have worked his way down and was now using her belly as a substitute. His left arm was also thrown across her left leg. If he didn't look so comfortable, she thought, I'd wake him up and give him back his pillow. Then, as she looked down at his face, Scully realized that since they had gotten to the house, neither had spoken of their work, which usually took precedence over regular talk. She had never realized just how much the two of them had in common. She reached up and brushed a piece of hair out of Mulder's eyes and he stirred. She stopped quickly and waited, hoping he wouldn't wake up. Scully was enjoying this rare opportunity to really look at him without feeling guilty about it. He moved his right hand to her arm then continued his sleep, undisturbed. Scully let out a silent sigh of relief and continued to stare at him, memorizing the familiar outline of his face. She put her hand on the scar on his forehead, then gently ran her fingers over his hair. She examined his lips, then traced his chin up to his right ear. Suddenly, Mulder opened his eyes and to her surprise, Scully didn't remove her hand but left it on his cheek.

Mulder looked at her in confusion. "Why am I laying on your stomach?"

"Because I think I stole your pillow," she answered, still not moving her hand.

"Oh," Mulder lifted his head, brought his left hand up and rested his chin on it. "I guess I decided that you were the next best thing."

Scully's hand had slid off his cheek but her fingers were still on his chin. "I don't know if I should feel insulted or honored."

"Honored, I'm very particular about where I put my head."

"I can deal with that. I didn't mean to wake you. It's just that I thought of something. Did you know that we haven't gotten on each others nerves in almost four days. Are we going for the world's record?"

"Either that or there is something in the water." He reached up and touched the cross that hung on Scully's neck and was laying on her chest. He held it between two fingers, not looking at her as he spoke, "In the past four days, I've gotten closer to you than in five years. Maybe its the house, maybe its not having to worry about a case, maybe its because up here, we've both let our defenses down more than usual. We've been allowed to see each other as we really are, with no job between us. I almost don't want to go back to the real world. We'll return to being our uptight selves, holed up in the basement, working endlessly."

Putting her hand back on his head, "you know, we don't have to go back to being those people although I kind of enjoy arguing with you."

"Of course you do, you win more than me." Mulder finally looked up at Scully. "I enjoy us this way. It's going to be kind of tough to go back to that couch of mine. Here, I feel more safe than I have in a long time. I haven't had one nightmare since we came. There's no Skinner breathing down our neck, no extraordinary creatures lurking behind doorways, my phone hasn't rung since we got here - do you have any idea the luxury that is? I want to go back to the job, don't get me wrong, I love our work but for the last four days, I've had a life. I don't think I've ever had one before. I'm going to miss this, miss us here, being real friends without the threat of being killed hanging over us." Mulder let go of the cross but kept his hand where it was.

"Mulder, everything has changed, can't you see that. We haven't given up one thing and we don't have to give up the other. In my opinion, life is going to improve greatly because we've had this time together. Life will go back to its chaotic self but we've changed, you and I. Change can be a good thing, believe me. Trust me on this one, we'll return to that chaotic world but I for one will not forget this place. I could get used to taking vacations after all. To think, I wasn't going to come up here at first."

Mulder smiled, "now that would have been tragic to say least. I wouldn't trade this vacation for anything. The doctor really can make everything better, can't she." Mulder laid his head back on Scully's stomach and closed his eyes as she began to stroke his cheek with her left hand.

Without opening his eyes or looking up, Mulder said in a sleepy voice, "Scully, I think I'd like to keep you."

He couldn't see the surprised happiness in her eyes but he felt her body relax under him and he knew that she was smiling. That was enough for him, at least for now. He fell back to sleep with his head cradled by his best friend's body.

Mulder awoke to the smell of ham and eggs. He got up and followed his nose into the kitchen. There he found Scully standing in front of the stove. He walked up behind her and put his chin on her shoulder,

"Whatcha ya doin'," he asked, looking into the frying pan.

"I've decided that I owe you at least one meal considering that you've fed the bottomless pit," rubbing her stomach, "for the last four days. My cooking hasn't killed you yet so stop making those hideous faces."

Straightening his face out, Mulder said innocently, "me, mock your cooking. Who's been feeding me forever? Whenever I come to your door, you give me food. I'm just making faces because if I give in too quickly, you'll think me a pushover."

"Mulder, if you are one thing in this world, it is not a pushover, by any means."

"Thanks." He sat down at the table and picked up a fork. "Now feed me or I may have to get hostile."

"We wouldn't want that now would we." Scully filled up his plate, then hers. She sat across from him and both began to eat in relative silence. A few minutes later, Scully put down her fork and tapped Mulder on the hand to get his attention.

When he looked up, Scully said in a quiet voice, "thank you for last night."

Mulder looked at her in surprise, "for what?"

"For keeping me company and for not making me feel like a complete idiot because I was scared of something totally irrational."

"Irrationality is in the mind of the beholder Scully, and I for one, refuse to believe that you would let an unwarranted fear control your life. If you say that you're frightened by something, I will believe you. I'd never laugh at you and you know it. I am more than happy to do anything that will make you feel better. Just remember that, all right. Besides, I have never been one to disbelieve. You ought to know that by now."

Suddenly Scully got up and gave Mulder a big hug. She said into his ear, "you know what?"

"What?" he whispered back.

"I think I'd like to keep you too."

She let go of him and proceeded to dump her dished in the sink. Mulder just stood their with a silly grin on his face, staring at the fiery red head at the counter. His fiery red head, he thought to himself. He walked out of the kitchen whistling the theme to Star Trek. Scully heard this and grinned, knowing he only did that when he was in a really good mood.

By the time they actually got outside, it was after ten and the heat of the day was already bearing down. Both went to work cleaning out the shed. By five o'clock, they had accumulated a mountain of trash. When they were finished carrying it out to the curb, both were covered with sweat and dirt.

Scully looked at Mulder and burst out laughing.

"What's so funny?"

"You."

"Well, you're quite amusing yourself, you know."

"It's just that I don't think I have ever seen you this dirty before. If the other agents could see us now, they'd probably keel over. The two cellar dwellers actually went out in the fresh air and did manual labor. They probably wrote us off long ago."

"Well, I guess we just won't invite them up here, now will we. Our reputation can not be tarnished by revealing that we're real people."

"Good idea." Scully walked over and picked up the hose that was lying on the ground, she turned the water on and aimed at Mulder. Before he could get out of the way, a spray of water hit him. "I guess I'll just have to clean you off before we go back, won't I."

He made a grab for the hose and turned the spray onto Scully. After a old fashioned water fight, both of them were soaked to the skin. Scully made one last ditch effort to attack and ended up skidding on the mud they had created. She ran into Mulder and they landed in a heap on the ground with Mulder on top. They both realized just how close they were to each other and without thinking Mulder put his head down to kiss Scully as she raised her head to do the same.

At that moment, the telephone rang. Mulder slammed his fist into the mud, "why does that damn thing ring at the most inopertune times?"

Rolling off of Scully, he picked up the phone and handed it to her.

"I don't want to answer it, Mulder. You know it's Skinner. Please, you talk to him."

"I don't want to talk to him. I say we just let it ring."

"Fine, give me the phone. You're gonna owe me for this one buddy."

"Scully, you're an angel."

Scully stuck out her tongue at Mulder and said hello into the phone.

After a minute of solemn conversation, Scully said good bye and hung up.

"Guess?"

"Our wonderful boss and he wants us to take another weeks vacation?" Mulder asked, not even believing it himself.

"Keep on dreaming. He wants us back as soon as we can. He says he's got something he wants to show us."

"Another case?"

"I assume. He didn't want to discuss it over the phone." Scully looked at Mulder with a look of disappointment. "I guess we had better get ready to go. We can either leave tonight and get a decent amount of sleep once we get back or we can stay here and leave about four o'clock tomorrow morning. Which sounds better to you?"

"Neither but I guess going tonight is more practical. We've got a lot to do before we go. Why don't you take your shower first, since you've got more mud on you than I do. I'll put the stuff away out here. Sound good."

Scully just stood there looking at him. "For the first time in my life, I really resent having this job."

Mulder stepped up and faced Scully, "we can always come back you know."

"I know but I want to stay here," not daring to look into his eyes, "with you."

Scully said this then quickly turned and walked into the house. Mulder waited a moment then followed, ignoring the mud he was dripping on the floor. He went upstairs and without knocking, walked into the bathroom. He saw a heap on muddy clothes on the floor and Scully standing in front of the shower clad only in a towel.

"No matter what," Mulder said, trying not to stare at the short towel covering Scully, "promise me that you'll come back here with me, soon. This place wouldn't be the same without you. No matter how busy we are, we'll make the time to get away. Promise?"

She saw the pleading in his eyes and ignoring the fact that she only had a towel on, she walked to him and gave him a hug. "I promise that no matter what, I'll come back here. Nothing could keep me away."

"Honest truth?" Mulder asked quietly.

"Honest truth. Now get out of here before I lose my towel."

"You know Scully, maybe I should stick around. What if you need someone to hand you the soap or wash the bottoms of your feet. I'm really good at that," Mulder stated with a sly grin.

Scully shoved him toward the door, "I'll holler if I need you for anything, now OUT!" She said all this while laughing and trying to keep her towel on.

Mulder grinned and went outside, shutting the door behind him.

About six o'clock, they had gotten everything packed back in the car and were taking a last look around to see if they had locked all the doors and windows. When they were finished, Mulder locked the front door and walked with Scully out to the car.

"You want to drive?" he asked Scully, knowing she would turn the offer down because she didn't enjoy driving at night as much as he did.

"No thanks. With my luck, we'd end up in Canada."

"Just don't forget that I get lost more than you do. Don't yell if we do end up at Niagra Falls or worse."

"I'll take my chances." She settled herself into the passenger seat for the three hour drive ahead. Mulder got behind the wheel and slowly they pulled down the drive, both wishing that they could go back to the moments before the phone rang.

Driving along, both could feel the tension in the car. Mulder was silently cursing the phone and Scully knew he was annoyed, not at her but at how things had turned out. After about twenty minutes, Scully could stand it no longer.

"Mulder."

"Yeah, Scully."

"If a tree fell in the forest and no one was around to hear it, would you insist on investigating it or would you just let it go?" Scully asked in a serious voice.

In an equally serious voice, Mulder answered, "You bet your sweet ass I'd investigate, and I drag you right along with me. Out of curiosity, why do you ask?"

At this, Scully burst out laughing. "I needed to say something to break the tension that seems to have built up in this car and I thought that would do it. From the feel of it, I'd say it worked."

After that, conversation began to flow easier. Mulder began telling Scully about the good times him and Samantha had had up at the house. She curled up on her seat and closed her eyes, enjoying the sound of her partner's voice. Scully felt herself drifting off to sleep and she welcomed the rest after the long day they had had.

Mulder was wishing curses on anyone he could think of when Scully asked him the question about trees. He knew she was trying to lighten the mood he was in and after hearing her laugh, he felt better, although he still wished they had never answered the phone. He began to tell Scully about the things him and his sister did when they were kids. After about fifteen minutes he realized that Scully had stopped responding. He looked over and saw her asleep, with her hair falling over her face. He smiled and reached over to pull up the coat that had slid off her lap. He drove on in silence.

About an hour later, "Mulder ..."

"What is it Scully."

He didn't get a response so he asked again, "What?"

Mulder looked over and realized that Scully was talking in sleep. He reached over and put a hand on her arm. Quietly he said, "go back to sleep."

"No. What would have happened if the phone hadn't rung?" Scully asked in a muffled voice, still sound asleep.

"I think I just might have maybe kissed you." Mulder whispered, not believing he was actually telling her this, asleep or not.

"I would have liked that. Maybe we'll get stuck in the mud again."

"I can only dream," he said, wondering if she would remember any of this when she woke up.

"I like you Mulder. My mom was right, you are a wonderful guy." These last words were mumbled as Scully shifted in her seat and continued her slumber in silence.

Mulder moved his hand down to her knee and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I like you too."

Scully awoke not long after this conversation and from Mulder's view, she didn't remember any of it. He guessed this was just as well. He had no idea how he would react otherwise. They pulled into a gas station to get some coffee and Scully offered to drive the rest of the way.

"No way. We haven't got lost once. I have to drive the whole way so I can use this against you when you get to ripping on me."

"Me. Make fun of you. Never. Where do you get your information from?"

"You."

"Oh. Well, live and learn." Scully hopped back in the car and they continued on their way.

A couple hours later, Mulder turned into Scully's driveway. "Here we are. Why don't you unlock the door while I get your stuff for you."

"What a gentleman." Scully began looking for her keys as she walked to the door. Halfway up the walk, she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks.

Mulder came up behind her, "you do realize you can't reach the door from here, right?" he said playfully.

"If I was at the door, it wouldn't make any difference. I don't have my keys."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean I remember throwing my keys on the counter when we got there. I'm guessing that they're still there." Scully looked up at him in apology. "I forgot to grab them when we left."

"I never thought I'd see the day when you forgot anything. I'm kind of proud. You've come over to the dark side with the rest of us. At least I have my key. I'll get you in and you can thank me generously in any way that you see fit."

"No you can't. I had the locks changed, remember. I made you a key and left it on the counter inside to give to you when you picked me up. You didn't grab it, did you?"

"That would be a big no. How about your neighbors, your mom?"

"No neighbor has a key. I gave mom the new one but she's visiting my brother. She won't be back until tomorrow."

Mulder started back toward the car. "I guess you're stuck with me one more night. Come on, I'm starving. We'll pick up something on the way to my place."

Mulder smiled to himself. Someone upstairs really must like him because now he had Scully to himself for one more night. Scully, in the back of her mind, felt almost guilty because she was glad she had forgotten her keys. Both got into the car and headed for Mulder's apartment, silently happy about how things had turned out.

After picking up food, they pulled up at his apartment. Scully grabbed the food while Mulder grabbed the bags. He grinned as he pulled out his keys and shook them at Scully. "So this is what it's like to be powerful. I think I like it."

"Just open the door house boy," Scully said over the bags she was holding.

"With pleasure madam."

They got into the apartment and immediately attacked the food. Within minutes they had devoured most of it and Mulder put the rest in the refrigerator to have for breakfast.

"Well sir, who gets the couch," Scully asked, eyeing what Mulder considered his bed.

"Guests get the couch, pure and simple. I'll get you another blanket." Mulder scurried off before she could argue. He returned with a real pillow as well. "I've been saving this for a special occasion. Here you go," he said, tossing the pillow at her.

"Wow, I'm now considered a special occasion. Most would tell me to pull up a piece of floor. I think I like it here." Scully began digging through her bag and a second later produced her pj's, which consisted of a pair of shorts and the Knicks shirt Mulder had given her for her birthday as a joke.

"I told you I'd wear it." Scully said, although she was thinking how she rarely slept in anything else.

She changed while Mulder set his "bed" up on the floor next to the couch. Scully laid down and Mulder turned out the light. He settled himself down and called goodnight. A few seconds later, Scully's head appeared over the side of the couch. "I'm getting the strangest feeling of de `ja vu, how 'bout you?"

Mulder reached up and grabbed her hand. Putting it on his chest and wrapping his own hand around it, he grinned and looked up at Scully, "I am now."

He closed his eyes and drifted off knowing that he wouldn't have any nightmares that night. It took Scully a little longer to fall asleep but she did eventually, safe in the knowledge that Mulder was next to her, wanting her close.

The next morning, Mulder woke up to the sound of the shower turning off. A moment later, Scully walked out the door and much to Mulder's surprise, she was wearing his robe. She looked at him, then grinned. "I hope you don't mind that I borrowed it."

Mulder just nodded, afraid that if he opened his mouth, he would give away what he was thinking: that he had never seen Scully more beautiful, standing in his bathroom doorway dripping on his floor. He realized that Scully said something else. Embarrassed, he asked her to repeat her statement.

Amused, "I was curious as to what Skinner might think if I went to the office in this?"

Still slightly distracted, "Why?"

"Because I don't have any clothes here. This is not my place, remember. I sure can't go in wearing a pair of cut offs and a torn t-shirt now can I?"

"I could guess the reaction would be quite interesting. It would only add fuel to the fire about us being 'not quite right'. Hell, I think you should go in the robe."

"Mulder, you really are nuts aren't you?"

"I can only try. Now, ask me if I have anything you can wear."

"What. Why would you have anything of mine? You been raiding my closets again?"

Laughing, Mulder replied, "no, but I think I can come up with something."

At that, he disappeared into the closet and emerged with one of Scully's jackets and a pair of slacks. She just stared at him, "where in the world did those come from?"

"From the dry cleaner. Where else?"

"OK, I see we're going to do this the hard way. Why do you have my clothes from the dry cleaner?"

"I just enjoy playing with your mind. You asked me to pick them up before you went to the hospital."

"Mulder, that was over a month ago! You've had them that long and you didn't give them to me."

Shrugging his shoulders, Mulder put on his best 'I'm sorry, will you forgive me' look and stuck out his bottom lip. Scully couldn't resist that, no matter how hard she tried and both of them knew it. She groaned and took the clothes back to the bathroom with her. Scully stopped before she closed the door, "why can't I ever stay mad at you?"

Without missing a beat, " 'cause I'm cute." He left her in the doorway and he walked into the kitchen whistling.

After they had finished breakfast which consisted of the leftovers, Scully called her mom and left a message that they would be by later in the afternoon to get her key. She walked down to the car while Mulder finished trying to get his hair to obey. She stifled a laugh when he came down and she saw that he had not succeeded. "Don't even say it."

Innocently, Scully replied, "say what."

"Why do I hang out with you again?"

Using his own retort against him, " 'cause I'm cute."

"And you always seem to be right." Both got into the car and headed towards the city.

They went straight to Skinner's office after Mulder parked the car. The door was open so they peered inside. Skinner looked up, "good morning. I didn't expect you here so soon."

Scully spoke up, "we came back last night. It was easier than leaving at three o'clock this morning."

"At any rate, I'm sorry to cut the vacation short."

"It's all right," Mulder said, pulling out a chair for Scully, then taking a seat next to her.

"Well, keep that good attitude for a few minutes longer. The police caught the guy who was going to be your next case."

Mulder laid his head back on the chair, "meaning vacation was cut short for no real reason."

"Mulder, I only found out about an hour ago. I tried up at your mother's place but no one answered. I am sorry."

Scully cut in, giving Mulder her patent ' don't say a word' glance, "it's OK. We have some stuff to catch up on anyway." She stood up and put her hand on Mulder's shoulder, "come on, let's go wade through your office. You don't have any excuse for not doing some cleaning now that I've seen you scrub more than your coffee mug."

Mulder got up and nodded to Skinner. Both walked out of the office and down to the basement. Mulder opened the door and Scully turned on the light. They were greeted by their familiar clutter and a six day old donut on Mulder's desk.

He laughed and Scully smiled, "Oops. That would be mine wouldn't it?"

Scully picked up the donut and banged the side of the desk. She handed it to Mulder, "here, you needed a new paper weight anyway."

Both settled in and began to read their mail, which had piled up quite a bit while they were gone. About an hour later, Mulder got up to go get some coffee. He returned with a puzzled look on his face.

"What is it?" Scully asked, confused.

"I just ran into Skinner and he said since we had to come back early, we can finish our vacation anytime and we'll get two extra days."

"I'd think you were playing with me again but I have a feeling you're not. You are serious, right?"

"Oh yeah. When do we leave?"

"We?"

Turning red, Mulder stammered, "I just kind of assumed that we could go back to the house. I guess I should have asked first, huh?"

"In this case, assumptions are truth. We should probably stick around here for awhile though. All's I know is I still want my full vacation and I plan on getting it."

"A woman of action, I like that. It fits you well." Mulder sat back at his desk and both continued to catch up on the last week.

The phone rang later and Scully got called up to the labs. Mulder decided he might as well surprise Scully with a semi-clean office so he got to work as soon as she left. She returned around three and found Mulder reading in his chair, the room around him cleaner than it had been in five years. She stood in the doorway, shocked. He got up and took her arm, "take a good look around Scully. It may never look like this again."

"You have just rendered me completely speechless. You know, I never knew your desk had a top. I'm impressed."

Suddenly, Scully turned to him, "you want to get out of here. Mom should be home by now."

"Excellent thinking. If I'm stuck down here another minute, I may have to scream." He grabbed his keys and led Scully out the door, turning the lights off as he went.

On the way to her mom's house, Scully called again. Her mom answered and Scully told her they were on their way. When she hung up, Mulder looked at Scully, "why didn't you tell her what happened? She's probably been wondering since she got home."

"It will be easier to tell her when we get there. The story is a little to crazy to tell over the phone. Besides, if I know my mother, she'll keep us for dinner and make us tell her all over again."

"Dinner. That reminds me, I'm starving. What do you think she'll have?"

"Mulder, you're incorrigible. Turn up here."

As he made the turn, "you're brother isn't going to be there is he?"

Surprised, Scully turned to look at him, "No, why?"

"Because I get the impression that none of your brothers like me?"

With a little smile, "they never liked any guy I was friends with. It's just that whole protective thing. You wouldn't have liked any of the guys Sam went out with either."

In a quiet voice, "did you realize that that's the first time you called her Sam instead of Samantha?"

"I'm sorry. I guess being up at the house made her seem more real that ever. I didn't mean any offense"

"No," Mulder said in a louder voice, "I like that you feel comfortable enough to call her that. When you say it, your voice doesn't carry the hint of contempt that everyone else's does."

Scully looked at him and put her hand on his thigh, "one day Mulder, I would like to meet your sister and tell her what a wonderful brother she's got."

Feeling the pressure of Scully's hand, "I'll have to tell her what a wonderful partner I've got."

They drove on in silence, Scully leaving her hand on Mulder's leg. About twenty minutes later, Mulder pulled into Mrs. Scully's driveway and turned off the car. Scully's mom had already opened the door for them and was standing there, waving. Scully opened the door and gave her mom a hug and a kiss. Mrs. Scully then turned to Mulder and on reflex, he gave her a hug as well.

She was surprised by this and said with a smile, "thank you Fox. I didn't expect that but I will from now on."

"Mom, don't call him Fox."

"Don't worry about it Scully. Your mom is one of the few people in the world who can get away with calling me that."

"OK. Fox, Dana, first question - why do you need my key? and second - are you hungry?"

Mulder looked at Scully with a smile that said I told you so. "It's a long story and we're starving, at least I am."

"Then how about I go find us some dinner." Mulder and Scully followed her into the kitchen, with Mulder pulling Scully's hair as they walked down the hall. Both sat down at the counter and began to tell the story of the last week, interrupting each other good naturedly. They continued to talk through dinner and then they moved to the living room. Mulder took a seat by Scully on the couch. They finished their tale and Mrs. Scully laughed at both of them.

"Thank you Fox, for getting Dana out of that office of yours. I think she went back to work to soon but you know her, she never listens to anyone."

"No problem. Besides, she didn't have much of a choice. I told her if she didn't come, I'd hound her the entire time I was gone."

Scully hit Mulder in the knee, "Mom, I wouldn't have put it past him either," she said with a laugh. "I would have been getting calls at three a.m. telling me that he hit his thumb with the hammer or that the crickets were loud and the grass was a great shade of green. Although I'll say this, I've never had a more relaxing vacation." She glanced at Mulder, "thanks."

They continued their conversation until, without warning, Mulder dropped his head on Scully's shoulder, sound asleep. Mrs. Scully smiled when she noticed that her daughter's eyes had begun to drop as well. She got up and left them on the couch, turning off the lights as she went.

Scully and Mulder awoke around nine-thirty, confused because neither had realized they had fallen asleep. They wandered into the kitchen to find Mrs. Scully reading at the kitchen table. "Why did you let us fall asleep?" Scully demanded.

"Because I will not have either of you falling asleep on the highway. I've lost one daughter, I don't see a reason to lose another or her handsome partner. Don't you feel better though."

Sheepishly Scully replied, "yeah. Thanks." She looked at Mulder, "I guess we should get going."

"Let's move out then." They all walked to the door and Mulder gave Mrs. Scully another hug and a giant kiss on the cheek. Scully laughed, "trying to outdo me, partner."

"Yup." He went out the door to turn the car on, leaving both of them laughing on the front porch.

Scully gave her mom a big hug. "I'll get your key back to you. Thanks for dinner."

Mrs. Scully held on for a moment and said, "come back soon and don't forget to bring that nice young man. I enjoy his company immensely."

"So do I, mom. He'll come back, if only for the free meal and the hug." Scully walked down the sidewalk where Mulder was patiently waiting, holding the door for her. They got in and drove of down the street, waving.

"That one had better not get away." Mrs. Scully thought to herself with a smile as she turned to go back into the house.

Once they got back, Mulder dropped Scully back at her house. He went in to retrieve his key and decided he had better get out of there fast because if he didn't, he just might do something both of them would regret. Mulder said a quick goodbye and practically ran to the car, leaving Scully more than a little confused. She shrugged her shoulders and got ready for bed, hurt that he didn't even make an attempt to stay for awhile.

Mulder, on the other hand, sat in his car around the corner, yelling at himself for being such an ass. He debated whether or not to turn around and go back but decided Scully would probably be mad and right now, that would have killed him. He drove home slowly, knowing that he'd be alone and cursing himself because of it.

Scully hadn't been able to sleep at all and around ten-thirty, she heard a pounding on her door. It annoyed her a little because she wanted to wallow in her self-pity awhile longer. Then she looked at the clock and realized just how late it was. She got up, picked up her gun and went to look out the peephole. Scully saw Mulder standing there with his hands in his pockets. She debated whether to let him in but decided she had better. Upon opening the door, Mulder rushed in and grabbed her in a hug, holding her tightly.

"Mulder, what are you doing? Why aren't you at home?"

Easing up a bit, he looked at her, "I tried to go home but when I got there I realized something. You weren't there with me. I suddenly missed you terribly and decided that I needed to come here."

Scully was shocked. Usually when Mulder said these kinds of things, he would stammer, look embarrassed and avoid eye contact. Tonight however, he said them in confidence, looking straight into her eyes. "Why did you need to come here?" Scully asked, both afraid of what might happen and hoping that it would.

"Because I've wanted to do this for about four years now and tonight seems like the proper time." Before Scully could reply, Mulder covered her lips with his. With that one kiss, all five years of hidden feelings Scully kept inside rushed to the surface, and she held onto Mulder as if her life depended on it.

They dropped onto Scully's couch. "By the way, this is what I would have done while in that pool of mud."

She pulled him closer and began to take off his shirt, "this is what I would have done."

At that moment, by some sick twist of fate, the phone rang. Mulder put his head on Scully's chest, "don't answer that, please!"

Scully gave him a quick kiss and reached behind her for the phone, hoping that it wasn't Skinner. "Hello ... mom ... what is it, it's late. Well yeah, I was right in the middle of something."

Mulder chose at that moment to make his presence known. He called "hi Mrs. Scully. How are you doing?"

With that, he began to free Scully from her shirt as well. With a look of complete contentment, Scully said into the phone, "yes mom ... that is what I'm in the middle of ... Call me tomorrow, late." With that she hung up the phone and continued what she had started.

Mulder suddenly looked up from his exploration of Scully's stomach. "I just realized something. I am completely, helplessly, hopelessly, madly in love with you."

"To tell you the truth Mulder, I will love you forever: completely, helplessly, hopelessly and madly."

Without a word, Mulder picked Scully up and carried her into the bedroom. Both decided that the rest of their vacation would be spent in Scully's bed, starting now.

#msr #lost keys and shirt removal #my writing #originally on Gossamer

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