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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

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Go the Distance

Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst

Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers

Word Count: 4191

Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!

Or, at least, it was.

Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.

But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.

But they’d still been talking!

After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’

It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.

Anyway.

They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!

Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.

Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.

But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.

“Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”

“But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”

Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”

“Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.

You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.

Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.

If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.

So. Talking.

Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.

Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.

But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.

“What’s up, Princey?”

“Do you think my logo looks bad?”

Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”

“It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”

“Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”

“Yeah, but they’re…”

Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.

“They’re what, Roman?”

Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”

A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.

“And you’re not?”

“Hmm?”

“And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”

Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.

“No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”

Roman blinked.

“I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”

“So that’s…okay?”

“Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”

“Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”

“Anytime.”

Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.

Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.

First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.

If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.

Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.

“It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”

And Roman is. He’s good.

Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.

Princey gives really good hugs.

Third: Roman’s fucking funny.

Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?

Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.

Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.

Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.

…maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.

Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.

They’d been talking. It had been good.

But that was before.

Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.

Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.

Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.

Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.

And now…

Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.

A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.

He clutches the pillow to his chest.

Did he—did he do something wrong?

Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.

Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.

Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.

Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.

Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.

Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.

Or maybe…

Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.

Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.

Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.

Maybe that’s…okay.

It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.

Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.

But it’s just a pillow.

Has his room always been this cold?

Have Disney movies always looked this flat?

Has music always sounded this gray?

Has Virgil always been this alone?

He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.

Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.

Maybe it’s better this way.

He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.

He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.

So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.

But not today.

He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.

Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.

Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.

Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.

Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.

“Virgil?”

The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.

“Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”

Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.

“Can I come in, shadow-ling?”

Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.

He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.

“Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”

Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.

“That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”

Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.

What happens next breaks his fucking heart.

The imaginary Roman kisses him.

It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.

It’s too much.

It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.

Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.

“Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”

No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.

“Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”

Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.

“Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”

Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.

“Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”

And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.

Virgil trusts him.

So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.

“Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”

Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—

“R-Roman?”

“Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”

White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.

He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.

“Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

“Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”

“Virgil—sweetheart, I—“

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”

“Virgil—“

“Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”

“I’m looking at you now.”

Virgil laughs.

He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.

“You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Silence.

Virgil’s heart stops.

No.

No, no, no, no—

He fucked up.

He fucked up so bad.

Roman left.

Roman’s not here anymore.

Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—

On instinct, his hands hook into claws.

Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.

“Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”

“Don’t—“

“I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

…what?

“I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”

Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”

“I didn’t want to push my luck.”

What?

“You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”

“What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”

Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.

“Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”

Fuck, Princey.

“…what do you want?”

A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.

“May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“R-Roman?”

“That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”

He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.

“That and everything that goes with it.”

“Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”

“Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”

A soft chuckle.

“Look how well that turned out.”

“But the others—“

“I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”

“To…to ask me?”

“Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”

“And if I say yes?”

He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.

“…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”

“Are you really here?”

The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.

“Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”

He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.

“Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”

Fuck it.

Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.

“I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”

He’s here.

This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.

“Ask me again.”

“May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”

Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.

“May I kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

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guiltysecretpasttime · 3 years

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Linzin Week 2021: Day 3 - Stargazing (part 3)

WIP Pre-Canon AU Lin x Tenzin Rating: Eventual M To the Linzin week 2021 organizers: Is it fine to post a WIP - a serialized contribution? Will post it in AO3 as well once completed ✌🏽 Read part 1 here.

Lin was looking forward to a quiet soak in the bath. She figured it was late at night enough that Tenzin would have retired to bed.

Upon opening the door, smoke wafted to her face. Something smelled… burned, she thought while coughing.

“Lin, is that you?” Tenzin’s voice came from the balcony.

“What happened?” Lin fanned away the smoke as she to him.

Tenzin was slouched on the outdoor chair, bottle of beer in hand. “I attempted to cook.” Tenzin’s face was pinched.

“Aw, you were supposed to have a dinner date?” She leaned on the doorway. “Scared the poor girl away?”

There was a strange look on the airbender’s face. “No…she didn’t show up.”

“I’m sorry.” She said and realized she was sincere about it. She pointed to him and waved to the still dissipating smoke. “Didn’t think to use airbending?”

“Oh.” Tenzin’s eyebrows furrowed. “To be honest, I wasn’t thinking straight.” Then he took a swig off the beer bottle.

Ah, it was that kind of night.

By all appearances, the airbender was a stickler for air nomad tradition. However, his parents both agreed to raised him and his siblings in a more liberal way. This resulted in the siblings to adapt any practices of their parents’ heritage into the quickly modernizing society.

And that includes the occasional alcoholic drink for this airbending master.

“How was work? A little bit late, isn’t it?”

“Terrible.” Lin slumped into the opposite garden chair and grabbed the bottle off Tenzin’s hand. “One of the detectives mucked up the paperwork. His sergeant and I had to work double time to meet the deadline for the indictment.” She took a gulp from the bottle before giving it back.

There was a relief in his expression that puzzled her.

“That’s grea- terrible indeed.”

She rolled her eyes. “Sarcasm still does not suit you, airhead.”

Tenzin continued to punctuate the otherwise quiet night air with comments about his day and questions about Lin’s.

They took turns from the bottle until Tenzin finished the last swallow. “This is nice.”

“Hmmm?”

“We haven’t had this long a conversation since... I don’t remember when.”

Huh.

Tenzin gestured to get more beer and she nodded.

She sat back, scratching her arm as she thought.

That was sad, in reality.

But nice. No expectations. Reverting to their old habits, their old patterns to before they became a couple.

She squinted.

That had been so long ago.

“Say, do you want to go up?” Tenzin held two bottles of bear, cold with icy condensation at its surface.

“I don’t see why not.” Lin stretched, took one bottle of beer then followed Tenzin to the rooftop.

There was no actual furniture on the rooftop, but there were some wooden crates that they had fashions into makeshift seats and tables.

Pulling up a crate, Lin remembered why they selected this apartment.

It was not in the more glamorous districts in the city. It was quite close to the suburbs, to be honest. That was something they both liked to have maybe in the future, a quaint quiet home in the suburbs. Until then, this is the closest they could get.

And well, they took it on because the apartment unit was at the top floor with easy access to the rooftop.

Tenzin settled little ways to the side, about two crates away from her.

She popped open both of their bottles.

“There isn’t a lot of stars tonight.”

A glance at Tenzin revealed he was observing the sky.

Lin simply shrugged. She knew him well enough to know that a Tenzin who has had alcohol is a talkative Tenzin.

“We were discussing about oral tradition earlier in class. One of the students shared about the Earth Kingdom superstition that you can actually use the stars to find your soulmate.” Tenzin hunched on his knees, picking at the label of the bottle. “Do you believe any of that?”

“Believe what?” She decided to humor him.

“Soulmates.” He replied quietly, not meeting her gaze.

“Soulmates…” Lin took a gulp of beer first, considering her words. “Can’t say I do.”

The airbender now turned to her. In his haste, his almost full bottle had liquid swished on the floor. “Why not?”

“I mean, look at people we grew up with,” Lin grimaced, using her fingers to count. “Uncle Sokka didn’t really settle down, did he? Was his soulmate the moon spirit? We can never know.” She took a tip and pointed out another finger. “My mom – we don’t even have to explain that further -.”

“But doesn’t the thought of someone out there to be with you sound, well, reassuring?”

“Not really. Sounds like a load of excuses not to put effort into a relationship since you knew from the get-go, you’re for each other.”

“So, you really don’t believe in soulmates?” Tenzin asked slowly.

“Pffft no, of course not. Soulmates? Oh, come on.” Lin decided a change in topic was needed as the current conversation was about to get maudlin.

---

He tore off the label of the bottle.

But, I do.

***

As with any of their annual vacations, aside from a day or two spent with the entire group, everyone was pretty much left to their own devices.

This made their farce a bit easier to pull off.

Tenzin decided early on to spend most of the time in their room. Lin was barely there anyway so it work.

Tock-tock-tock.

“I know you’re in there.”

Knowing that his brother will not leave until he acknowledged him, Tenzin opened the door.

Bumi entered without waiting to be invited in, hands behind his back. He made a face on the papers sprawled on the table and most of the other surfaces in the cabin room. “Come now, Tenzin – there’s a reason why it’s a vacation.”

“I need to get this done.” It was a weak argument, and he knew it.

Bumi knew it.

“We’ve seen more of Lin than you in the past few days. So that means you haven’t had a lot of couple time either.”

“We see each other all the time.” Tenzin prevaricated. Technically, they did occasionally cross paths at work.

---

Bumi rolled his eyes. “Sure – at work, eh? Well, if I can’t bring you out to the party – I’ll bring it here until to agree to get out.” He brought out his ammunition. “Uncle Sokka’s personal brew!”

Tenzin struggled to catch the tall suspicious (yet unfortunately familiar) bottle.

“I’m not drinking, Bumi.”

“Oh yes, you are.” He swiped the papers off the couch and plunked himself on it.

He did not really have any other agenda other than to get Tenzin relaxed enough to join them for tonight’s excursion.

Bumi grinned as his baby brother finally popped open his bottle.

---

But, whoo boy, a Tipsy Tenzin was a Talkative Tenzin.

---

“You’ve broken up for that long?! Spirits, Tenzin! Why didn’t you think to tell me or anyone?

“Look, I knew you were proposing to Izumi this week. We didn’t want to take that away from you.”

“Still.” Bumi pondered a bit. Maybe his brother needs a wingman now? “Do you want me to bring you over with boys, when we’re over at Republic City? We can introduce you or better yet, we can go around town now and -.”

“No, thank you, Bumi.”

“Don’t you still live together?”

“Yes.”

Are you stupid? “How is that going for you?”

“It’s fine. We’re now glorified roommates. It still gives me privacy from our parents, you know. And a bit of a sanctuary. And it’s fine. We do our own thing and it’s fine.”

“Bro, you said it’s fine too many times.”

“Lin’s totally fine with it.” A beat. “She’s a big girl, she can take care of herself. It’s not like she’d like to move back to their old house either.”

Bumi frowned but agreed.“To be fair – no one asked us about our relationship so we haven’t been lying.”

“Yes, you’ve been omitting the truth. I see you’re fitting really well in city hall, councilman.” Bumi patted him on the back.

---

Clunk.

“Oh, I’m sorry – did I wake you?”

The whiff of air that wafted towards him smelt of smoke, sweat, the odd smell of old alcohol, and something distinctly Lin.

“No, I was doing –.” His eyes scanned quickly the bedside table. “Some light reading.” He put up the pamphlet. “You didn’t disturb me.” He saw the clock say it was three in the morning.

“Sorry,” Lin was quickly pulling out clothes from her side of the cabinet. “Don’t worry – I’ll just take a quick shower and try not make a lot of noise. I’ll head on to bed too.”

Tenzin turned to his side of the bed, unwilling to think of what (or who, he thought distastefully) Lin might have been doing.

Not that she wasn’t in the position to do so. Of course, she was well within in her rights to do so.

Maybe telling Bumi wasn’t the smartest idea. True, he promised to keep it to himself.

Rather, Tenzin knew Bumi and the rest had gotten back to their accommodations a couple of hours earlier (judging by the racket when they were trudging nearby).

Usually, Bumi would have insisted to see to it that all of their party would have gone home together. But then again, knowing that Lin was now single, he probably did not mind if Lin had gone off on her own…

The sounds of the shower from the en suite can be heard.

Tenzin pressed his palms to his eyes.

He told Bumi it was fine.

Who was he kidding – it wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine.

And, unfortunately, he didn’t know what to do about it since only one-half of the broken-up couple did not seem to be fine.

#linzin #linzin fanfic

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walviemort · 3 years

Text

Fairy Godfather, part 3

Summary: The fairies have asked a monumental favor of Killian: be the surrogate for their babies—all nine of them. He’s been pregnant before, but this? This is a whole other level. What has he gotten himself into? And just how big will he get?

A/N: Another update! Thank you to @sancocnutclub for her continued encouragement...which will be very apparent in part 4 ;)

rated T / 2.4k words / part 1 / part 2 / AO3

Though he had just passed the first trimester mark in this oversized pregnancy, Killian was pleased to find he was not lacking in the energy department. Granted, his first pregnancy had been similar—he’d had the most energy during the second trimester, despite the increasing size of his belly.

But his belly was a fraction of the size back then. Now, at 13 weeks, it was much closer to the size he’d been at 35 weeks with Hope. But he had yet to slow down—as evidenced by his and Emma’s morning activities; he was even on top.

There was no denying his present form was bulky, but he’d been too fatigued at this size with Hope to do much but sleep and eat. That was not a problem now, and both he and Emma were reaping the benefits. Reaching orgasm while she was caressing his bump? It was impossible to describe how amazing that felt.

However, he’d hardly finished when Hope began to cry out from her nursery. As much as he was still feeling good, moving did take a bit more effort than it had. This bump also weighed as much as his last one, and was only going to get heavier; at least it hadn’t dropped yet. But it meant that Emma was still quicker to her feet than he was, and sprang up to retrieve their 13 month old before she tried to climb out of her crib on her own.

Hope finally figured out walking a month or so ago—just in time for her first birthday—and he was well aware of the comical sight he’d made at her party, chasing after her with his protruding stomach. But at least he still could, even if he got winded more quickly than he’d like.

Tink had been snickering at him during one such moment. “Hey,” he chastised and patted the bump. “Your kid is in here, so I’d watch the mocking when it comes to running after mine.”

“That’s fair,” she’d conceded. “Just let me know when you need help, though—I’ll gladly go after the little hellion.”

“I’ll hold you to it.”

They hadn’t needed her help yet, but it was only a matter of time—especially by the sound of tiny but insistent footsteps that were getting faster every day as they ran down the hallway.

“Dada!” her little voice called out as she charged into the room and threw herself against his legs as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“How’s my little cygnet today?” he enthusiastically replied as he bent down to pick her up. He had to open his legs to make room for the bump, but it was still an achievable feat, and Hope giggled as she flew into the air and the curled in as he carefully tucked her into his side.

After a brief cuddle, she squirmed for him to set her down on the mattress, and gave his bump a gentle pat. “Hi babies,” she said (or tried to; some of those sounds were still being worked on). She’d noticed the bump a few weeks ago, once it had really started popping out. They couldn’t tell if she actually understood what was going on—and were glad she was young enough to not have to explain it—but she was at least careful and affectionate.

He just hoped that continued as she grew steadier on her feet—and he grew larger and less so.

Hope tucked herself back into Killian’s side and Emma sat down on the other. “This is a pretty perfect morning,” she sighed as she laid her head in his bare shoulder. “Do I really have to go into work?”

“I’m of the same opinion—but wasn’t Tiger Lily coming for training today?” She was the fairy who’d offered to take over his deputy duties once he no longer could—and he had a hunch she'd be an acceptable long-term hire.

“Yeah,” she complained. “Just wish it could wait another day.”

“Or,” he suggested, “we get through today and then we can spend tomorrow in a similar manner.”

“I like the way you think,” she replied, then pulled him in for a kiss.

He set Hope down on the bed, where she proceeded to tackle the pillows, and went about the process of getting dressed. His sleep pants still fit, although they were reaching the point where they were almost too snug on his hips, which had definitely widened more than last time.

Thankfully, his maternity jeans were as stretchy as ever, and he hadn’t yet exceeded their capacity; the elastic panel hugged his belly comfortably as he slipped them on.

Emma had bought him a collection of soft, short-sleeved t-shirts a size larger than he typically wore, and one of those slipped on easily, but the bump still stood prominently under navy cotton. Hopefully, they made these in several larger sizes.

They stopped at Granny’s before heading to their respective workplaces for the day, and Killian consumed a larger stack of pancakes than he’d like to admit; good thing Belle took his measurements yesterday. At least there was also a generous side of fresh fruit.

When he and Hope arrived at the library, he was only semi-surprised to see Blue there; she seemed to be showing up once a month or so to check in, but today had another goal.

“Would you be okay with getting an ultrasound?” she asked.

That was shocking. “Sure,” he said, “but will it be okay for them?” he countered, rubbing his belly. Inside, they seemed to be fluttering nervously.

“If it’s fine for a human baby, it should be for them. It’s just—I see all these thorough notes and comparisons, and I’m curious what that would reveal.”

“Whale says he has an opening,” Belle added, phone in hand. “Shall we?”

They did, and headed out en masse to make the short walk to the hospital. At least, it should have been short, but Hope insisted on walking on her own and Killian’s pace wasn’t as fast as it normally was.

Whale met them in the waiting room when they arrived, though, an eager look on his face. “Wondered if I'd see you this time around,” he greeted. “I’ve gotta say—I’m pretty curious about this.”

“Aren’t we all,” Killian answered dryly, bracing his hook against his lower back.

“Come on; let’s take a peek in there,” Whale beckoned, and led them to an exam room.

Killian passed Hope off to Blue and began the process of climbing up on the exam table; again—he was doing fine on the energy front, but a large bump was a large bump, and it not only was an obstacle to his mobility, but he was carrying around some weight he hadn’t been 13 weeks ago (and in more places than just the bump).

But he managed to get up there and lifted up his shirt without prompting; he knew the drill. During his seemingly arduous climb, Whale had been looking over Belle’s notes from both pregnancies. “Damn,” he commented. “I think your notes are more detailed than my charts.”

“That’s not reassuring,” Killian called out; Whale just chuckled and moved to ready the ultrasound machine while Belle rolled her eyes and readied her pen.

Killian had forgotten how cold the gel was, but he got over it quickly as Whale began to move the probe over his (thankfully stretch mark-free) stomach.

“Well I’ve never seen that before,” Whale said after a bit, and everyone focused on the screen.

“I thought those were only in black and white?” Belle asked.

“They are,” Whale confirmed.

And yet, as the tiny images of multiple babies appeared on the screen, each one was showing up in a different color—the color of the orbs they started as. Tink’s green stood out front and center, but as Whale moved the probe over the dome that was Killian’s abdomen, all the other colors showed up, except—

“Where’s mine?” Blue asked, understandably worried.

“Hmm,” Whale hummed, investigating. “One, two,” he started counting, finding 8 that were easily visible. “But it looks like…” He pressed harder on Killian’s belly, to the point of discomfort, but he didn’t complain—not when Blue looked so worried.

“Yeah, there’s definitely one hiding in there,” Whale said. “I just can’t zero in. There’s some color bleeding through, though…”

And in between a pink-hued and navy-hued fetus, a bit of bright blue was visible. Blue sighed in relief. “Yeah, she’s just being stubborn,” Whale assured her. “You can probably blame it on Hook.”

“Hey!” he protested, but Belle’s snicker suggested she agreed.

“Anyways—from a development standpoint, yeah, I’d put you right at 13 weeks, although probably half the size. Were it a normal pregnancy, I’d guess you’d only go to 30 weeks or so, for safety—but I’m guessing that won’t be the case here?”

“No,” Blue said. “He’ll go all the way to full term.”

Whale whistled. “Thank goodness they’re small then.”

Several copies of the sonogram were printed off—as mysteriously colorful as they were on screen—with Killian taking one, another going in Belle’s notebook, and the rest going with Blue. There was some discussion of doing another ultrasound at the second trimester, but it was ultimately deemed unnecessary.

Whale bid them adieu but they lingered in the room, if only because it took Killian a bit to clean off the gel (he hated the way it got caught in the bit of hair on his stomach). Belle was wrangling the kids, but Blue was staring at the pictures, almost in awe.

“You were worried, weren’t you?” Killian asked softly. “That she wasn’t there.”

“Yes,” Blue admitted. “It’s rare, but sometimes, they don’t all take. And I’ve just—I’ve waited so long for this.”

“I understand.” It had taken him and Emma quite some time to conceive Hope, and obviously they required assistance.

“I guess I’ll just have to be patient,” she sighed.

“Aye,” he agreed. “But—” He placed his hand on the top of his bump and furrowed his brow in concentration. “I’m almost positive she’s kicking my bladder at the moment.”

It drew the polite chuckle he was going for, but also meant he needed to excuse himself. Blue also took that moment to take her leave, but not without an emphatic thank-you.

He had to admit, as he shuffled off to the bathroom—he’d definitely been resentful of this arrangement to an extent. But seeing Blue’s genuine emotions there at the prospect of parenthood made that feeling dissipate.

He was sure he’d have a mountain of complaints by the end of this, but being able to grant so many others the joys he’d found as a parent—that would be worth it.

------------------------------------------------------

At 16 weeks, he hit the same measurements he had when he was at full term with Hope (literally those of the day before he’d gone into labor). But the bump still sat high on his frame. “I wonder if whatever magic is preventing stretch marks is also holding it aloft,” he quipped as he traced the curve of his belly.

“It’s entirely possible,” Belle concurred. “Look at the difference.” In addition to measured data, she also had photographic documentation of his various milestones in both pregnancies; comparing the picture she’d just taken on her phone to the one from right before Hope entered the world, it was plain to see the similarities in how much they extended in front of him, but the difference in where it sat on his body.

“We’ll see how long it lasts, though.”

In answer to his theory, he got another few weeks before things began to sit lower, though his stomach continued it’s outward expansion—a couple centimeters every week. But by his 17th week, he finally started feeling the pull of gravity and had to dig out the belly band he’d relied on the last month or so with Hope.

But he soon noticed another issue. While he remembered what it was like to not be able to see his feet, and had gotten used to the obstacle about his midsection, he wasn’t prepared for it to stick out even more.

Case in point: one morning during his 18th week, when he was attempting to surprise Emma with breakfast (usually she rose first, but a flurry of activity in his belly had woken him early). However, he was a bit farther from the stove than he was used to, as well as the cabinets, and he kept knocking into the chairs around the table; Hope was watching him from her own high chair in amusement, far more interested in his slapstick endeavor than her cereal.

“What’s going on?” Emma’s sleepy voice asked after he cursed at nearly burning his belly on the oven.

“Nothing,” he huffed, rubbing the spot on his bump that was just a bit too warm. “Just a failed attempt at treating my amazing wife.”

She glanced around, then smiled. “You were trying to make me breakfast but then your belly got in the way?”

“Aye,” he sighed.

She walked over to him and pulled him into a hug—from the side, since she already couldn’t get close enough from the front—and turned his face towards her to kiss him. “You’re too sweet,” she said, tucking herself into his side. “And you treated me plenty last night,” she added in a low voice; he swallowed at the memory of their shared moment—probably one of the last times he’d be able to make love on top for a while, unless they got creative with the logistics, but dammit, he did it, and it was amazing.

“I can finish this up; take a seat, okay?”

“I should be able to do this, though,” he complained.

“And you will—in 5 months or so. But I told you I’d support you with this, so let me.”

He sighed again, but complied, and ignored the creak of his chair as he sat down (angled away from the table—he was also up a size in shirts, but his jeans were holding on…for now). “How did the gods see fit to bless this poor bastard with such an amazing woman?” he asked, watching the blush rise on her cheeks.

“The same way they did for this lost girl,” she countered, then put a (heaping) plate in front of him.

“I love you so much, Swan—thank you.”

She placed another kiss on his lips. “I love you too—always.”

Even if this wasn’t an ideal situation, he knew that he was blessed to have Emma at his side; he wouldn’t be able to get through this without her.

-------------------------------------------------

thanks for reading! tagging @wyntereyez @jennjenn615 @superadam54 @ashley-knightingale @justsomewhump @teamhook @88infinity88 (let me know if you want a tag!)

#cs ff #killian mpreg #FAIRY GODFATHER #My ff

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myriadlabrynth · 3 years

Text

Kiridai English Dub Voices Thoughts

Hi Hi~ I know I’ve been dead, no deep reason why, but!

I found out that the eng dub for season 2 of knb is up, so of course I had to see the kiridai eps, these are some of my thoughts on the voices

(first I want to say that overall its a solid dub, voice cast wise anyway. The voice cast is pretty good. aomine’s voice in particular is literally perfect)

Hanamiya - Stephen Fu

Honestly pretty solid.

It’s a lighter tone but the execution is SO GOOD. You can really hear the venom in the voice lol

Stephen Fu did SUCH A GOOD JOB especially with that Kuroko and Hanamiya convo (the “the misfortune of others tastes sweet like honey” scene)

I think both the english and original JP fits well ; its just different interpretations

Hara - Jon Allen

Its not the same voice actor, but he sounds just like Kaoru from Ouran at some points? It has a similar light raspy sound

I think this is actually the tone of voice I had in mind for Hara way back when. But now I somewhat prefer him having a slightly more deeper tone.

But his en voice is pretty good. With the few lines he has, the VA did really well!

Hara (talking to Seto): “People give me crap about my hair while you’re a fire hazard” asdfgiodl Hara please!!

Furuhashi - Aleks Le

My favorite personally!!!!! Can sound close to the original at times imo

I do think the execution could’ve been a bit better. Its not as stoic as I imagined it in some parts

Also! Something interesting to point out is that Aleks Le voices Akashi as well.

And Akashi is the player Furuhashi has his eye on, according to Kurofes. Pretty cool coincidence.

Yamazaki - Mark Whitten

Pretty good!! Definitely has that slight rough tone to it.

His lines can be so funny lol

Mark Whitten did a good job execution wise and really nailed Yamazaki’s aggression haha

Seto - Keith Silverstein

Keith Silverstein!!!! I’m pretty bias since I love Keith’s voice, its his usual voice.

I think its an okay match. I did notice that both JP and EN voices have a similar “velvety”...tone??

Idk if that’s the right word but both voices seem to have a similar texture/color to them, so that’s cool.

I imagined Seto with a deeper voice but its still fine.

#Kirisaki Daiichi #kiridai #knb #hanamiya makoto #hara kazuya #furuhashi kojiro #Yamazaki Hiroshi #seto kentaro #its sad not being able to really take in the voices since there are so few lines for most of them #also i realized people who are only watching the dub will or have met kiridai #i love seeing the reactions lol

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solaneceae · 3 years

Text

for @inspiredrawaw because their ocs live in my brain rent-free

emo deer and shy dragon boi have a heccin snuggle. thats it, thats the tweet.

----------------------------------------

Waking up was a... difficult process. Slow, sluggish and almost sticky, like being pulled out of a particularly deep quagmire. Darkness was clinging to his body and mind, keeping his eyelids stubbornly closed, a sensation of numbness and weightlessness planting the seeds of doubts. Was this real? Was he dreaming?

Normally, this wouldn’t be an issue… except he couldn’t remember falling asleep. Nor could he remember… much of anything, really.

He was stuck in this state of hazy confusion for what felt like hours, with no sensory hint as to where he was, head and ears filled with cotton, too stiff and tired to move an inch or open his eyes. He wondered, however briefly, if this was what death was. Maybe he’d fallen off the boat and drowned. Maybe a monster got him, and he just couldn’t remember it.

Mh. If that was truly the After, then it was a tad underwhelming, wasn’t it.

“...’en? Drakken? Are you with me?”

Recognition sparked in his slowly waking mind, followed by fondness. That voice. Omen’s voice. That formal inflexion, that little scratchiness Drakken had come to love. He could now feel a pressure on his upper back and shoulders, his arms, his chest… like he was being held.

Was his partner taking him through the gates themselves? In a way, the prospect was reassuring. The young dragon wouldn’t have it any other way.

But then he thought of Amber, and how devastated she’d be. Oh Gods, what had he done? Curse the Morrígan! Them, and all of this starfallen, cussing pile of moonrocks!

“Wake up you sod, you’re not dead just yet.”

...Oh.

That made more sense in retrospect. It took effort, but opening his eyes confirmed that he was, indeed, very much alive, and not being carried off to the After following an untimely demise. Merely laying down on his cot inside the boat, his back supported by what seemed to be his favorite deer, swaddled in a thick fleece blanket with a wool beanie on his head. And something was breathing against his neck.

He opened his mouth to speak, but his jaw felt so stiff, his tongue swollen and hard to move… “Mmm’n?”

“Shh. Don’t move yet. You fell asleep outside.”

He had? Oh, cuss. Drakken knew he didn’t do well in the cold at all, but it had been pleasantly warm today and he hadn’t expected the temperature to drop so much once night fell. He’d just been so fascinated with the blinking stars, trying to find his favorite constellations… he hadn’t realized how cold it had gotten until it was too late, it seemed.

Omen shifted, reaching for one of his frigid hands. “Can you move your fingers? Here, try to squeeze my hand.”

The dragon complied, wincing as his digits twitched and flared up with a dull, but pulsing pain. “H’rrts,” he managed to slur out, loosely grasping Omen’s warm, furry paw for a short moment before letting go. Something was changing- he actually felt the cold now, his body breaking into little shudders and spasms, his teeth starting to chatter. Wasn’t he supposed to be warming up? There was something radiating warmth against his chest… a hot water bottle?

“C-Cold,” the dragon slurred, now full-on trembling. He heard Omen hum, felt their hands rub up and down his arms through the blanket, their nose press against his jugular. “It’s alright, sunflower. Your body’s just starting to work properly again,” they assured him. “It’s a good sign.”

Was it? Drakken didn’t know, as mustering complex thoughts was a little difficult at the moment. He tried to move his arms to lay his hands on the hot bottle, but Omen quickly stopped him. “No, Drace, love- don’t, please. Your hands will just hurt more if you do that, and it’ll send cold blood right to your heart. Let them warm up on their own.”

Drakken let out a quiet croak of complaint, but quickly gave up, too drained to fight it. Mrf.

Well, at least his chest and back felt warmer. Even Omen’s nose felt warm, and that was weird, because Omen’s nose always felt cool to him, and he knew this because the deer loved to sneakily press it in the crook of his neck to make him squeal and squirm, and he’d flush and mumble complains while the deer smirked at him, because they both knew he didn’t actually want them to stop.

Mmh. Omen was so mischievous. And their coat was always so soft, and warm like a baby chick, chick-chickadee. Drakken liked to press his nose to theirs, and laugh when they took an offended expression whenever he went in for a playful boop. They were so proud all the time. I come from a prestigious family of death omens! they’d say. Regal. So pretty.

Ah, he’d lost his train of thought. And Omen was looking at him weird. “You need to warm up more,” they said, gently maneuvering him to lay him down on his cot, adjusting the blanket and water bottle. Drakken complained with a quiet whine, which the deer stifled with a little hush. They’d make him tea, they said. They’d be back real soon, they promised.

Drakken watched his partner smile fondly at him, then walk out of the room, their hooves clicking on the wooden floor. Drakken sniffled, shivering in his blanket, numb tail twitching as it slowly wrapped itself around his waist in an attempt at self-soothing. Please don’t be long...

***

The fallow deer placed their hands against the table, taking a few deep breaths to calm down as the sound of boiling water filled the tiny kitchen.

They’d tried so hard to keep themselves from visibly panicking, when all they wanted to do was to scream and cry in the crook of his boyfriend’s scaly neck, and tell him how scared they’d been, how their blood had run cold when they’d found him, silent and still on the cold wood of the deck, his chest barely moving and lips so blue and no no nonono can’t lose him not him not him-

Hissssssssss

Their spiraling thoughts were drowned out by the distinct sound of the kettle whistling, snapping them out of it. They swore bitterly, rubbing their head and taking the kettle out of the fire- they couldn’t fall apart like this. They had to take care of Drakken first and foremost, make him feel safe. They weren’t the one being hurt here. Being outwardly worried would only make it worse.

They focused on stuffing Drakken’s preferred blend -black tea, ginger, clove, cinnamon- in a tea ball, pouring the hot water in a mug and leaving room for cold water. Infuse, get the honey, cool it down, too hot will hurt him, where’s the spoon, have to hurry...

***

“Here, I’m going to help you sit up, hang on. Up we go, c’mon… There, you’re doing great, good job love. Let me- no no, Drakken, keep your hands inside the blanket, alright? Let me give it to you. Your hands will hurt again if you try to hold it.”

Drakken gave Omen an affronted look -which made them smile a little bit- but complied. Now that the dragon was upright, Omen proceeded to hold his head up, gently pushing the mug to his lips and tilting it, letting him take a few tiny, cautious gulps.

He looked better- the frost had completely left his scales, and even though he was shivering still, he no longer seemed incoherent. He choked a little on the last gulp, and Omen gently rubbed his back until his coughing fit had subsided and he laid bonelessly against their side, but his breathing was steady, and so was his heart… “Feeling better?” they asked quietly, hand gliding up and down their boyfriend’s back. Drakken hummed tiredly, his cheek slightly smushed against Omen’s shoulder. “Y-Yeah… thank you…”

Silence reigned for a few minutes, punctuated by each other’s breathing and the occasional shaky whimper from the cold-blooded dragon. Before he spoke again. “ ‘m sorry…”

Omen tilted their head, antlers bumping against the wall. “What for?”

“Should’ve paid attention… been more careful. Made you worry.”

The child of Death frowned at that. “Do not concern yourself with that. It is fine. I’m just glad you’re okay.”

“S’not though…”

The deer blinked when a cool hand grasped theirs- Drakken was shifting against them to look into their eyes, squeezing their fingers in a firmer grip than before. “You’re always- so careful, always thinking about protecting us. You always r-remind me to be careful when it’s cold, and I wasn’t careful enough, and I’m-made you worry and I’m sorry…”

Omen was stunned- Drakken had just experienced dangerous levels of hypothermia, yet he was concerned about how they felt?

Had they failed to conceal their fear so badly that even Drakken, out of it as he was, had been able to pick up on it?

They let out a shuddering breath, letting their head rest against the other’s, eyes clenched shut. Drakken knew them way too well. Their emotions, now bursting through the damn, making them feel like the lost, scared little kid they had been once. They said nothing, letting their boyfriend cup their face and brush over their fur knowingly. In this moment… there was no need for words.

His claws were sharp- dangerous. Yet he always touched them so gently, so carefully. Even now as his arms left his cocoon of blankets to wrap around Omen, pulling them down into a comforting hug.

“ ‘ey.”

“...Yes?”

“ ‘luv you, treasure.”

The deer felt a surge of affection swelling in their chest. “I love you too, sunflower,” they breathed out, voice a little bit shaky as they returned the dragon’s embrace.

And when Drakken squeaked when they pressed their nose in his neck, Omen knew he was going to be okay.

#allison's ocs #omen #drakken #they're babies your honor #flashfic #tw hypothermia

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allegra-writes · 4 years

Text

"Cherry"

Peter Parker x SHIELD Agent! Reader

NSFW

Warnings: Smut. Dom!Peter, jealous, Possesive!Peter, rough sex.

Weeks after the island, Peter finally sees you again. But you aren't alone...

Part of the "Fine Line" series but you don't need to have read that first.

Series Masterlist

Peter couldn't breath. His clothes felt stiff and restrictive, the bowtie, suffocating. This was a bad, bad idea. He wasn't cut for this. He was just a Parker, not a Stark, he had spent most his life trying to be invisible, not even getting superpowers had changed that. He had never wanted to stand out. He didn't want to be seen, to be recognized.

Even Quentin Beck had realized that. That's why he had done what he had, because he knew it would be the best way to ruin Peter's life. It had been almost a month since his return from Eroda, since Pepper and Fury had managed to clear his name and expose Quentin Beck as the fraud he was, trying to frame Peter for his murder with an adulterated video out of jealousy and envy. The greedy, insane employee gone mad after being overlooked in favor of the young intern, chosen by Tony Stark himself to be his successor. Spider-Man had just been doing his job as Peter's bodyguard when the incident at the bridge happened.

That was the official story, and the press had bought it with gusto, plastering the wide eyed boy's face on every cover, every paper, every magazine, every news site. A few weeks later, he was pretty much America's new sweetheart. Everybody knew his name. Everybody knew his face. His anonymity was gone.

Quentin Beck had won.

And now, there he was, being blinded by flashing lights, walking the red carpet of his first gala as the official heir of Stark Industries… two seconds away from throwing up.

"Breathe, Peter" Pepper whispered to him, voice calm and reassuring, "Just focus on a point above their heads, and keep your head high"

She took a step forward and Peter couldn't help but stare: she looked like a queen in her white gown, complete with cape and everything. She was an elegant woman but it wasn't just about her beauty, it was about the power, the authority she commanded, every eye in that red carpet had no choice but to focus on her.

Tony had been like that too, albeit in a different way: charismatic and bigger than life. Peter wondered how anybody could look at him, awkward and pasty, and think he was related to the man. Because he knew what people were saying...

"Parker, how are you holding up, mate?" A tall, blond boy patted his back, pulling him out of his thoughts. Harry Osborn, the only person there to introduce himself to Peter and actually take the time to try and make him feel comfortable. At first Peter had thought it had something to do with his family being the one hosting the gala but the youngest Osborn wasn't exactly famous for his good manners or decorum.

"I think I'm about to have a panic attack" more like sensory overload, but Peter wasn't sure how could he explain something like that to his new friend.

"Well, you are not hungover and puking on the photographers" The blond flashed him a brilliant smile, "so you're already doing better than me on my first red carpet"

Peter couldn't help the burst of laughter, but far from offended, Harry's grin turned even brighter. The flashes went wild.

"There you go, that should make for better photographs than the deer-in-the-headlights look you were sporting"

Peter offered him a grateful smile,

"Thanks dude, really"

"Don't mention it" Harry shook his head, "You're actually doing me a favor, letting me hang out with you. You're saving me from looking all lonely and pathetic in front of these vultures, since apparently I have been stood up..."

Peter stared at the blond in surprise. With those sharp cheekbones and icy blue eyes, it was hard to believe any girl could resist him. He suddenly felt a lot less bad about showing up dateless.

"Alright, we've spent about fifteen minutes out here, we can go in now" Harry instructed, already a pro at this kind of event, gesturing for Peter to follow.

He noticed the whispers as they walked into the massive lobby together, Oscorp and Stark Industries were rivals, just as Norman Osborn and Tony Stark used to be. His mentor used to find the other billionaire shady and his experiments, unethical. Even now, Pepper's and Norman's relationship was strained, at best, so seeing both heirs so friendly with each other was a little shocking. But if Harry didn't care about that, neither would Peter. Whatever sins the father had committed, he wasn't going to hold them against the son. That wasn't Peter's style.

"So, what do you think of your first gala, so far?" Harry sauntered in front of him, stealing two champagne flutes from a passing waiter and handling one to Peter.

"Oh, I- I don't drink, thank you"

"Good, that's a wise choice, don't change it" Harry praised, taking the glass back and downing that one too. Peter shook his head.

"I like it," He replied, looking around at the huge salon decked in lavished green and silver banners, the tables gilded with intricate floral arrangements, the huge shiny dance floor in the middle. "Stark Industries' is having one for Christmas, but it's going to be held at a hotel…"

Harry made a face,

"Yeah, that would be the norm, actually. But my father wanted to have it here this year, to prove the facilities are safe, you know?"

Peter thought back to that fatidical field trip all those years ago, to this very same building, when he was bitten by a stray radioactive spider that had escaped one of the labs. He hummed noncommittally. He seriously hoped mister Osborn was right, for the good of everyone attending the party, Harry included. Because truth was he really liked his new friend, he made everything easier just by offering Peter his company, by giving him someone his age to talk too, amongst all those old, stuck up gazillionaires that stared at him with curiosity at best, and open contempt at worst.

But of course all good things had to come to an end, such was the Parker luck. Harry took his vibrating cell phone out of his pocket.

"Would you look at that! It seems my date has finally arrived" He announced, eyes glued to the screen, smitten smile on his face, "One would think an influencer would jump at the chance of being photographed by the press at a red carpet… But not her, of course. No, she arrives an hour late… I'll go find her, be right back, Parker"

That was when he saw you. Entering the ballroom, a siren in your long golden dress, scanning the crowd. You looked stunning, hair longer, lighter, done in elegant waves cascading down your back. Your smile was dazzling as you found what you were looking for, and Peter didn't see his new friend make his way to you, entranced as he was by your mere presence.

Until he reached your side, and kissed your lips.

Harry Osborn offered you his arm, and you took it graciously, and he walked you through the room, proud swag on his steps as he introduced you to practically everyone in the party, Peter's heart breaking a little more with every step you took towards him.

He hadn't heard from you since the island, and now he knew why: You had already found someone new. Someone better, more handsome, and classier than Peter. Than the awkward boy you had been sent to protect.

Because underneath the Stark's money and his spider powers, that was all Peter was: some orphan kid from Queens who didn't belong. Harry could take you on dates to fancy restaurants without mispronouncing the names of the dishes, he could take you walking around his mother's art gallery in the upper east. He, with his aristocratic features, his british boarding school accent, his old family money, was a much better fit for a princess like you. You wanting Peter had never made much sense anyway.

And you looked good on Harry's arm, better than ever, actually. You looked happy. Peter hated it, and he hated himself for it.

"Parker! I want you to meet my date, Sixtine Boucher, influencer, it girl, philanthropist..." Harry was saying, suddenly in front of him, but Peter wasn't listening. You were there, close enough to touch, in the flesh. He could hear your heartbeat, smell you, sunshine and sweetness under the chemical tang of your expensive perfume for the first time after so long and it was almost overwhelming.

"S-Sixteen?"

"Sixtine" You corrected him, sighing as if it was something you did all the time and you were tired of it, "Bonsoir, Peter."

You sounded… funny.

"You know each other?" Harry's voice asked, politely curious.

"We met during vacation, at the…" You trailed off, eyes meeting Peter in a silent request to play along, disguised as a struggle to find the right words, “... Comment dis-tu ‘plage’ en anglais?”

"Beach" Provided Peter, his brain catching up at last "Yeah, at the beach… when I was on vacation… a-at the french riviera"

"What a small world!" Harry chuckled but it sounded nervous, uncertain. No doubt he could feel the tension between the two of you, growing with every passing second. Along with Peter's understanding. The hair, the dress, the french accent? It was a costume, you were a spy after all. You weren't there for leisure, you were there for work. This was a mission. Harry was your target, or maybe your cover. Whatever it was, it wasn't you. It wasn't real.

But then again, had Peter really met the real you? After all, not that long ago he had been your mission too…

When the next waiter passed in front of him, Peter stopped him. It probably would no nothing to his spider metabolism, but alcohol was looking more and more like a good idea. He had a feeling he was going to need all the help possible to get through the night. Harry arched a brow but luckily didn't comment, as he was beginning to get a clearer idea about how you and the brown eyed boy knew each other.

A glint on your cleavage caught Peter's eyes and he frowned. There, hanging from a long gold chain, nested between your breasts and almost completely hidden by the, admittedly low cut, neckline of your dress, rested a familiar crystal sunflower. The cheap jewel didn't match your cover, or your outfit, the only reason why you could be wearing it, was him.

He nodded, almost imperceptibly, letting you know he understood, and you let out the breath you were holding.

But awareness didn't make watching you, plastered to Harry's side all night any easier. It didn't stop him from seeing red every time you called Harry "baby", the endearment close enough to the "baby boy" you used for Peter to feel like a betrayal. It definitely didn't save the glass of wine he was holding from shattering under his grip as he saw you sneak outside of the room with him in the middle of dinner.

"Peter! Are you alright?" Pepper fussed over his hand, looking for cuts, and motioning to a waiter to help clean the shards of glass from the table.

"Yeah" He murmured, distractedly, eyes never leaving the doorway you had disappeared through, "I-I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me"

He didn't even wait for Mrs. Stark's reply as he got up from the table, giving chase to you and your date through corridors and elevators, following your giggles and the faint trace of your perfume. His persecution led him to the upmost floor of the building, where a single mahogany awaited him, but the fingertip scanner on the lock told him he wasn't going to be able to open it.

He cursed, barely catching himself from making a dent on the wall with a punch. You were doing your job, that was all, he repeated, like a mantra. Whatever was happening behind that door meant nothing. You were wearing his sunflower, that had to mean something, it had to.

After a few minutes, that felt like hours to him, the door opened.

"Peter! Shit, I was hoping you would be smarter than to follow me!" You hissed, as he pushed you back, stepping inside the room and closing the door behind him.

"Where is Harry?"

"Knocked out in the bathroom" You pointed at a door by the side. Peter took a look around the room, by far the biggest, most luxurious office he had ever seen in his entire life. And he had been inside Pepper's so that was saying something. The view of the Manhattan skyline through the floor to ceiling window was nothing short of breath taking. "I just needed him to get in here"

"Right. Of course. I knew that"

You squinted in suspicion at his flat tone,

"Pete, are you… jealous?" You smirked, amused. But Peter wasn't in the mood for your teasing, his patience finally reaching its limit.

He was on you in a heartbeat, pushing you back against the wall, caging you with his body. There was a dangerous, possessive spark in his eyes that you had never seen before. One that promised trouble for you.

"So what if I am?" He challenged, bracing himself on one hand on the wall next to your head, the other one slipping through the high slit on the skirt of your dress, fingertips digging on the sensitive skin at the inside of your thighs, "So what if every time I saw him put his hands on you tonight, I wanted to break his fingers? What if every time he kissed you, I felt like dying?"

The pain was evident in his voice, breaking your heart a little. But this was you, you were a special agent, this was what you did. Peter had said he wanted you, wanted to get to know the real you. Well, this was it.

"I'm not going to apologise for doing my job…"

"I'm not asking you to" He interrupted

"Then what are you asking of me?"

Peter pinned you with a long, considering look and you did your best not to squirm under its intensity.

"I'm not asking anymore, mon chérie " he finally spoke, "I'm taking"

He crushed his mouth, and his body, to yours, trapping you under his familiar weight and, for the first time since returning from the island, you felt home. He tasted like wine, and the cherries from dessert and heat. You had almost forgotten how his warmth felt like sunlight against your skin, until every starved pore opened to soak him up. His teeth grazed your bottom lip, making you moan. God, how you had missed him on your lips!

You must have said it out loud, because you felt his smile against your jaw as he broke the kiss to let you breathe.

"Did you, now?" He inquired, nuzzling down your neck, "Where else did you miss me, cherry?"

You felt his long, talented fingers find their goal, tugging your underwear to the side, slipping into you with no warning once he realized how ready you already were for him.

"Did you miss me here? Did you miss me inside you?"

There was a buzzing in your coms and the reality of what was about to happen, andwhere it was about to happen hit you like a bucket of cold water.

"Peter, wait, not here!" Peter ignored you, lips latching onto the spot just under your ear that Peter knew made you see stars. He couldn't wait, couldn't tear himself away from you, from your body. You were already breathing hard and he knew your halfhearted resistance wasn't going to last much longer. He speeded up the movement of his fingers inside you, tearing an involuntary cry out of your mouth. He was working you expertely, wave after wave of wetness bathing his hand, undeniable proof of your pleasure.

"Gonna leave so many pretty marks on you..." He promised, puncturing his words by biting down, hard, on the column of your neck, "Everybody's going to know who you really belong to..."

"Peter, please!" You sobbed, implored.

"Want me to stop baby girl? Really?"

You shook your head no. You didn't, you couldn't. Fuck the mission, fuck Oscorp, you only wanted to feel him. It had been too long, way too long. You took your coms out of your ear and smashed it under your hill. You'd deal with Hill later.

Peter slid the straps of your dress down your shoulders, lowering his face to your exposed chest, all wet lips and hot tongue as you hurriedly undid his button and zipper, finally freeing his angry, hard member. You pumped him once, and he bit on your nipple with enough strength to draw a single, sweet drop of blood.

"Oh god… feels so good" Peter's words were muffled against your collar bone, as he stretched you, burying himself deep inside you, as far as he would go, "being one with you again…"

"I missed you" You confessed, "so much, baby boy!"

Peter leaned back, stormy eyes capturing yours, holding you hostage,

"Oh no, my cherry, after your little stunt calling Harry baby all night?" He tsked, "No, you don't get to call me that anymore… now, you're gonna call me 'daddy'"

With that, he started thrusting up into you roughly, hips almost cruel in their onslaught as they slammed into you, truly railing you against the wall, unyielding, unrelenting. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, holding on for dear life, taking what he gave you like a good girl cause that was what Peter needed from you.

But god, did it feel good! His large thick cock, hard as vibranium, stretching you to your limits, a fit so tight you could feel every bump, every vein, as he hit all the secret spots inside you, tearing the pleasure out of you. Your orgasm was building fast, so fast it made you dizzy with the way all your blood rushed to your center. As your walls began to quiver around him, and you met Peter's fierce, furious face, you knew he wasn't going to be satisfied with just the one. Oh, no, he was going to rip out at least one more orgasm from your ravished body before releasing you. Undoubtedly not before marking you from the inside with his own release, you had long ago learned Peter was animalistic like that, all higher reasoning disappearing when it came to making you his.

"Tell me you're mine" he breathed, demanding, against your cheek, hand sneaking between your bodies to tease your pearl, making you explode in sensation, and prolonging your climax, keeping you there where he wanted you, right on your peak until you were at the edge of sanity, your brain unable to process that much pleasure so suddenly and for so long.

You tried, but you couldn't remember how to form words, the only sound leaving your lips a delirious,

"Peter!"

"Say it, my cherry" he insisted, feeling his own release approach much quicker than he would like, but it just had been so long, and he had missed you so much and you just felt so fucking good "let me hear you say you're mine as I make you come again…"

"Yes!" You cried, finally finding your voice, "I'm yours, Peter… only yours!"

"Damn right… all mine… only mine…"

He was almost there, and judging from the way your muscles were tensing and locking around him again, Peter knew you were too. But something was going on outside, his super hearing catching the sound of the elevator doors, and footsteps on the hallway. Still, he couldn't stop. He was so close, so fucking close… He had to come, had to make you come, before they did. There were voices outside, one of them he even recognized, telling the others to stop, to listen. Peter sneaked an arm around your waist, getting you away from the wall, moving you up and down his cock at inhuman speed, and he finally felt you fall apart. He came with a final cry of triumph… right as the doorknob started to turn.

Faster than any human could, he ran behind the door, with you still in his arms, to buy himself a couple of seconds as he slipped out of you, fixing your dress so you were completely covered before even thinking about tucking himself back inside his pants.

"Oh, for fucks sake!" Norman Osborn's exasperated voice was the first thing your pleasure addled brain was able to process as you stood on shaky legs, Peter's frame still hiding you from view. He took of his suit jacket, helping you put your hands through the sleeves and fastening it close.

"Put down your weapons, you goons! High security breach?.. Horny teenagers are not a menace, I should know!" Norman was still yelling at his guards. Peter turned around to face the old man, and you muffled your histerical laugh against his sweaty back, breathing him in.

"S-sir… sorry, we-we we-were just" Peter babbled, trying to catch his breath.

"Oh, save it, boy! I know exactly what you were doing, this whole place stinks of sex!"

You snorted and Norman finally seemed to notice who you were,

"I'm sorry, weren't you my son's date?"

You could only laugh harder.

"He passed out" provided Peter, as innocently as he managed, "in the bathroom"

"He's in the…" the billionaire's eyes widened, "Wait, you… you three were…"

"He really liked Peter" You announced, unhelpfully, fake accent restored.

"Ignore her, please" Peter sounded apologetic, not wanting the blonde boy that had so kindly offered his friendship to him to face unjust consequences for his own fuck up "Harry has nothing to do with this. My girlfriend was just trying to make me jealous. It worked. Harry's only mistake was to get drunk"

Norman rolled his blue eyes, so alike his son's,

"A common mistake for him. Trust me, boy, you don't need to make excuses for him… God knows I got tired of making them myself a long time ago." He sighed, gesturing to his guards to check on Harry inside the bathroom.

"Now, get out of here, both of you, so I can call the cleaning crew… not Tony's son my ass, this is the exact same shit your father used to pull at all my parties!"

Peter opened and closed his mouth a couple of times, but you tugged on his arm, it was pointless to try and deny it, Osborn senior was never going to believe him.

Peter took your hand,

"Right. Of course… we'll be… going, then"

You chuckles at his cute, nervous babbling became a full on belly splitting laugh as you ran out of the office and locked yourselves inside the elevator.

"Oh my god, his face!" You clutched at your stomach, doubled over, "that was… the best alibi in history! They didn't even search me!!" You showed Peter the tiny pendrive with S.H.I.E.L.D's logo where you had copied all the information inside Norman Osborn's computer. Peter tilted his head in confusion,

"Six, where were you even keeping that?!" Osborn's security might ot have searched you, but his own had been… pretty thorough.

You merely winked,

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

This time, it was Peter's turn of barking a laugh. He pulled you to him, kissing your forehead.

"Come on, let's find Happy and tell him to get the car. I want to get out of here…"

And he was taking you home with him.

To be continued...

#peter parker #peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker reader smut #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fanfiction #peter parker x reader smut #tom holland #tom holland x reader #tom holland fanfic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland hot

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logically-asexual · 3 years

Text

okay i'm already procrastinating and i don't plan on sleeping any time soon so here we go.

☆ ✩ my personal ranking for every season 1 Sanders Sides episode. ✩ ☆

i think it's going to be pretty similar to @dukeofonions' but let's see if i find something new to contribute haha. i see you didn't include that one about Patton in the Big Game or whatever, so i'm not including it either xd. also i think i'm going to count Accepting Anxiety as one episode only.

edit: i finished and now i dare you to drink a shot of water every time i say the word spanish or a version of the word comfort and become very well hydrated.

#16 I'm in a Disney Show

(i agree with dukeofonions here) i always forget this episode exists. it was ok in terms of being happy for real life Thomas but as a Sanders Sides episode it didn't do anything. the sides were just giving their opinions but it wasn't very funny or interesting. also i'm bitter because it made me look up the episode he was in and i didn't like it at all. i don't know if i'm too old for those Disney shows now but Thomas was literally the only good part of it, everything else was really dull and boring imo. a waste of time.

however, Logan supporting clickbait is one of the funniest things ever, and i'll never forget it.

#15 Becoming A Cartoon

i didn't hate this episode but it was just .. meh.. you know? several factors contribute to this. one, i couldn't feel much nostalgia for Butch Hartman's shows because i watched them in Spanish, and everything feels really weird when they speak English, i don't like how my old cartoons sound in English. two, it was disappointing to me because we were all desperately waiting for Plot™ and instead they give us this short episode about nothing (oh how the tables have turned now it's the other way around haha). and three, i didn't like the style of the animation :/ their faces and expressions freaked me out, Roman's douchey face still haunts me.

#14 Way Too Adult

here i'm biased because i don't like Patton much, and i didn't back when i watched the series the first time either, so this video was a little disappointingwithout the rest. also it wasn't relatable to me because i am still too young and dependent on my parents haha. but Patton is funny and it's funny to laugh at Thomas' struggling.

#13 The Dark Side of Disney

i've never been a fan of Disney movies. i actually never watched Mulan or the Lion King or Aladdin as a kid, so meh. i liked the ending, though, it was cool to see Virgil have fun and be right for once. it does make me a bit uncomfortable because the way Thomas tries too hard with Virgil's mouth movements and his low voice reminds me of a guy that had made me v uncomfortable not long before watching that video. so an icky feel overall.

#12 A New Year of Lying to Myself

this video was actually kind of fogettable to me. i had a hard time connecting the voices in the song to the characters and idk. i don't love it nor hate it, just .. neutral.

#11 My True Identity

pretty much the same opinion as dukeofonions, again. it's a good introduction and it's good that it was the beginning of it all but on its own it's not very special. i think it's awesome on Thomas to have come up with such a clever idea, like choosing the dad, the teacher and the prince and putting them together and match them with thoughts?? that fit so perfectly?? it really is just very impressive when you think about it, that it was just a random idea he had for a short 5 minute video.

#10 Taking on Anxiety

i liked this video a lot because when i watched it i had recently been a lot on tumblr, and found out through relatable posts that i had anxiety. so watching this video was really fun and it made me happy to feel so seen, specially the intro when Thomas just talks about what it's like to have Anxiety and Virgil is so smug about it.

- ★ -

okay now that those are out of the way things are going to get hard... all the following i love with all my heart so i'm going to rank them based on the smallest things.

#9 Growing Up

once more, Patton isn't my favorite. so that's why i'm putting this here, plus the echo at the end askjhsahg, but i love love this video. i remember we were waiting and oh so ready for the angst of nobody taking Patton seriously. and we received!! i love that though Roman and Logan are antagonists here, they're both so happy about Thomas wanting to have a healthy life. and i just adore the way Logan admits his mistake at the end and asks Patton directly. my heart... also aw.. the nostalgia. i remember none of us knew how to spell Patton's name and were writing it in very funny ways until Thomas and Joan told us lol.

#8 The Mind vs The Heart

when i watched this video the first times i didn't like it much, because i only had eyes for Virgil, but later i came back to it and loved it. so taking that into account i'm putting it here. logicality was the first ship i ever shipped in the show because i saw a gifset on tumblr of Patton screaming "what do you know about love?!" and Logan "apparently more than YOU" and the caption said "MARRIED", and i thought hey yeah... anyway. i love them. they're both my dads since that day.

this video is so so so relatable and i love it. Logan and Patton are so much fun arguing and i love how they compromise at the end and work together. im reconsidering.. i might move it higher? no, fine i'll leave it here.

#7 Making Some Changes

this video was absolutely hilarious. i personally couldn't see it as the Sides still once they were acted by Thomas' friends, i enjoyed it more as that bunch being silly and trying to be the sides but failing in so many ways, while sometimes nailing stuff suddenly. i really don't take this one too seriously as an episode. except Joan!Logan and Valerie!Logan, my beloved... i love how Joan acted as Logan and their voice and that they kept their ace ring on.. there's a reason i had them as my icon for so long. and Valerie looks a bit (a lot) like me with the glasses and dressed in dark colors, plus she spoke Spanish and there's .. no words to describe the joy i felt when seeing/hearing that. wait i'm getting emotional...

#6 My Personality Q&A

when i watched this Virgil was my favorite side and i didn't care much about the rest lol. when i heard his answers i related to him SO much it was scary, and also his voice is so soft and it was all very comforting. it was also when i first starting looking at Logan with more attention, because when he brought up Big Hero 6 and Fall Out Boy and said he didn't sing and would recite it like a poem? it only took a couple seconds but my brain said "me" and never went back.

now this video is a little underwhelming to watch for me, most of the appeal for me was in finding out the answers, and also watching it when we didn't know a lot about the sides. now we know more and want to know more so it's not as fun to me as it was first.

i wish so bad they'd do another one, although i know it would be more difficult with a much bigger audience, i think they can manage and i just need it. the chaos.. the energy.. they all being so savage with each other, learning little random facts about them you didn't expect.. i need it.

- ★ -

oh boy top 5 here we go. the next three are practically a tie. i can't choose.

#5 Alone on Valentines Day

i love Valerie, and the idea of this video was perfect and so perfectly excecuted. every side just giving their crazy opinions on how to woo a random stranger, i laughed SO much. first with Logan speaking simlish out of nowhere? at that point i didn't know practically anything about the sims except that it was some video game and the whiplash of Logan going AYO and the rest killed me. then when Roman whipped out that dialogue in Spanish??? my life was completed. i've never felt more happy than i did in that moment gosh. just the hilarity of Roman's drama, the shock of them speaking Spanish suddenly like that, the absolute JOY of seeing a creator i like speak (may i say) perfect Spanish, the other characters' faces after that.. never been happier.

also the conclusion was so cute. Virgil solving the whole problem without wanting to. i loved it.

#4 Am I Original

i think this video speaks for itself. it was fun to watch them all do the ideas Roman had, plus Logan and Virgil nodding at each other, (i love them so much), plus the angst at the end of Roman's perfectionism, plus Roman's just perfect name. this video has it all.

i think Thomas posted it kind of late at night and i watched it at 7am in the classroom as i waited for my classmates to arrive and the class to start. (i usually was like 40 minutes early to school due to mom’s work). i had to contain my laughter and it wasn’t easy.

#3 Losing My Motivation

i started loving this video after a while, when Logan passed Virgil in the position for my favorite side. but once he did this episode was beautiful. it's so funny and i love Logan and Patton's dynamic so much. and the video also so damn relatable in general. i felt so seen with it because they named all the problems i have when procrastinating, down to Patton's vague explanation of his feelings, it's exactly how i feel every time i want to do stuff. and the plot twist! i can hear the dramatic sound effect and see how they all turn to Logan clearly in my head, and it always makes me smile. plus there's so much Logan angst that can be dug up and overanalized. i love to watch it over and over.

#2 Accepting Anxiety

this video was perfect. everything we wanted. we knew it was coming and it delivered perfectly, better than any fanfic done in the waiting time. the week between the parts was agonizing but in a fun way somehow. i remember precisely when i was watching part 2 in my living room. i screamed. and i cried, a lot. i was feeling terrible at that time in my life and Thomas was such a comforting presence and i can't begin to describe how this episode made me feel.

and later it is always fun to rewatch with all their different reactions to being in Virgil's room, the energy of that was on point. Thomas is such a great actor and the characters where just amazingly performed. plus it gave so much to talk adn think about, the idea of the rooms, lots lots of insight into the characters, foreshadowing, so much. it's just perfect i have nothing else to say.

#1 (for purely emotional reasons, ironically) My Negative Thinking

i think Accepting Anxiety is the best episode of the season objectively but my favorite is My Negative Thinking. because i love Virgil and Logan so much and seeing them argue together was and is great. the comfort.. i can't repeat that word enough throughout this post. it's such a soft video while not being overwhelming with Patton and Roman's outbursts. just quiet (mostly) and clear and with perfectly timed humour.

Logan my beloved.. learning spanish... helping me with my own anxiety.. and their debate was so good. and the fact that they were friends i- i can't. Virgil didn't think Logan liked him and Logan told him explicitly that he did and the casual softness of it i cant even. Logan is happy that he tried.. it's just marvelous. Virgil and Logan as best friends will always be my favorite pair, and their dynamic will always be what i strive for in any relationship i might form, with both sides silently comforting each other within their own limits and realistic perspectives. so nice.

- ★ -

so yeah. that's all. thank you if you read all the way up to here. ♡ ♡ ♡

#sanders sides #thomas sanders #logan sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #roman sanders

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macaronnya · 2 years

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Fresh(?) Impressions (2)

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Hello Enstarries~☆ It hasn't been 24h yet but lucky enough, I'm a master procrastinator so here's the next part with UNDEAD already. This whole series is probably more like me talking in an echo chamber but that's also alright. I couldn't eternalise my first thoughts from other games, which is quite a shame. So this will be a nice memory to look at when someday the game ends and enough time has passed for my opinions on them to have changed. I sure hope that that someday is still very far away.

Anyways here's my last post about Trickstar, if you're curious enough and want more info about me and enstars. And the next one as well, if I'm committed enough to continue.

|Prev| |Next| See above ⬆️

DISCLAIMER!: Everything said here is for entertainment purposes only and not meant to attack anyone. This is not an accurate description of any characters but my subjective rambling for fun, so please don't take it too seriously. (Just to be safe, I'm kinda scared of elite idol fans) Also, you will hear me mention other games a bunch of times bc I'm that bad and uncreative at explaining and I'm still grieving A3!EN's shutdown. Eng is my 2nd or 3rd language so you might see weird spelling or grammar. I like to think I'm pretty decent, though...

Without further ado....Let's Ensemble!☆

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Ah yes, the sexyish bad boy group. Military aesthetic once more but make them goth. All their uniforms are slightly different from each other but still cohesive, which is nothing groundbreaking but I just wanted to mention I love stuff like this. And these outfits in general. Really cool stuff. Also, everyone has different gloves. Purple is my fav color so I might be biased. Their songs are more rock 'n roll with a lot of guitars, which isn't exactly my go to genre but it's nice to listen to it sometimes. Melody in the Dark & Valentine Eve's Nightmare are my favs. They also sing with these oldies microphones, which is cool but looks a bit funny when they gotta take the whole thing to switch places. Surface aside, they're all much sweeter than their image leads on?? Like, I was surprised upon reading their Ep.1.

7.5/10 - I like them a bit, mainly for their color scheme but I think I'll like them for more as well

Rei Sakuma

I thought he was some mysterious flirt, who will tease and entice you to do flirty stuff but he's actually a nice old vampire next door. His vocabulary and tech knowledge may be from the 19th century but he drinks his respect women (& tomato) juice 👍I know he sleeps in a coffin and has a younger brother who hates him for some reason, so there's something he may have fucked up....He's also very pretty. Possibly one of the prettiest one out of the whole cast. His voice is very attractive as well, sounds like melted chocolate.

8/10 - i like him, he's pretty, polite, lives with a distinct lowkey flair, this card is amazing

Kaoru Hakaze

Flirty boys often make me weak. Not bc I actually fall for their flirting but I like what hides beneath that. Be it trauma (Ikki, Amesia), shyness (Inigo, FE:Awakening), dorkiness (Impey, Code:Realize). I knew instinctively he's one of them and his panicking monologue Ep.1 that lasts for ⅓ of the time was my proof. I don't think he's christian (like smn else) even though he has a cross necklace here. It would fit more with Rei's vampire package but whatever. He seems easy to fluster, which is just the cherry on top. His voice is also nice, melodic and sweet but only like 65% chocolate.

8.5/10 - Cute but hot as well, I wonder what more he hides

Koga Ogami

Wild and rowdy. I know he jumped on poor Anzu on her first day. Imagine falling on your face bc of some rude dog boy on your first school day smh. I used to mistake him for Izumi and vice versa. Similiar hairstyle and haircolor, though his color scheme is warmer. Idk why he insists on being taking the saying lone wolf so literally but if it works 🤷‍♀️ He really went at it during Nightless World's MV with his guitar. Surprised he composes but somehow also not. I guess, he's just very creative and passionate, hence his wolf persona.

6/10 - he's not average but also not that interesting

Adonis Otogari

What a gentleman. He reminds me of Guy (A3!) what with him being rather stoic and looking slightly intimidating but is actually quite caring. And he might have important parents in his homeland? Maybe it's not that special tho, considering he's attending a private academy and looking at the rest of the cast....He's probably the tsukkomi from his unit. Might have the patience of a saint. I didn't expect him to have such a deep voice and it felt a bit off at first, but maybe that's just bc I was still playing A3! and there's another character with the same VA, who's quite different. This is the second time I see this VA in an idol franchise, the idol in question is Gaku from Idolish7. His unit's vibe is also similiar. I forgot to mention it but FORBIDDEN RAIN is an absolute banger as well.

7/10 - I look forward to getting to know him better

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Conclusion

This group is one of the more normal units, I think, which is pretty telling of the other ones. Overall on a more favourable side. I dig their costumes and voices.

Reading their Ep.1 made me question whether I suddenly shifted games or smth. Especially Kaoru's??? He's so funny panicking and being all "I'm usually so much coolee why is she so cute? 😣". Rei's manner of speech and the library made me think of these isekai manwhas on the rise. Adonis was suddenly talking about world disasters (ain't that hitting close home) and his guilt of not being of more help and slight desire to just stay in safe Japan but ultimately not regretting helping his land. And Koga is struggling to find his individual self after finally finding a place to belong. Like, what is this tone shift from Trickstar!? I guess, this is a sneek peak to what we will see more of in future events and character development? Do characters have that here?

Anways, feel free to comment whatever and share some thoughts. Until next post!~☆

#ensemble stars #enstars #I think I slowly get how formatting works #macaron rambles #UNDEAD

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floralguccistyles · 3 years

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Remember when I said this fic was coming soon in March of 2020? Well...I promise I haven’t abandoned it. I want to finish Wildflower before I start on this, but I thought I might post a sneak peek because why not? Hope you guys enjoy!

mise en place, sneak peek

Michel’s soupe a l’oignon was burning.

Michel had also been through a terrible breakup the night before in which he had found his boyfriend of almost seven years in bed with their personal trainer. Then Michel’s boyfriend had announced that he and this personal trainer were actually married, per a terrible ceremony in Las Vegas when they were both drunk. Therefore, Michel was technically the other man. Michel had never been the other man before. He was obviously having a rough time.

But the fucking soup was burning.

“Michel! The soup!” Italia shouted before the scent could officially assault all of my senses. The second the words left her mouth, however, I could smell it. The onions were burning to a crisp. There would be no saving them, of this I knew.

“Shit!” Michel yelled, immediately turning off the heat of the stove. He went to go grab the saucepan and the hurried “no!” didn’t leave my mouth fast enough as he gripped the cast iron handle with his bare hand for approximately three seconds before he yelped and dropped it back down on the stove top with a slamming sound. “Shit, shit shit!” he repeated, clutching his wrist with his other hand.

“Let me see,” I demanded, moving away from my own meal (which would be fine and not on the verge of burning for at least another five minutes) and towards Michel. He held out his hand to me with tears in his eyes and I honestly felt bad for the guy.

I just also felt really, really bad for the customer who was waiting for their soup.

“Go run it under cool water. Cool, Michel, not cold. Ice-cold will damage the tissue even more. Then get a rag wet and hold it over. You can just go ahead and take your fifteen.”

“My soup—”

“Italia and I will handle it,” I interrupted. The more time we wasted standing here arguing was time that could have been spent trying to salvage the soup. It didn’t help that we were already down a chef, since Frederick’s wife was giving birth, but we would make do. Italia and I always did.

“Thanks, Dom. I’ll be in the lounge.”

Lounge was a loose term. It was a tiny little room in the back that looked dingy and unkempt. Still, it was enough to pass health inspections. Only about two people could fit back there at a time, which was why I usually just sat in my car for my breaks.

“Sounds good, Michel.” My eyes locked with Italia, who was already working on melting the butter and oil for Michel’s soup in a new saucepan. Isobel, one of our dishwashers, had already grabbed the pan Michel had ruined and was scrubbing it clean with her thick rubber gloves on her hands. At least I knew she wasn’t going to be burned.

When Michel turned to go into the lounge, I grabbed an onion and automatically began chopping it. “Sorry, Italia,” I muttered under my breath, knowing she could hear me just fine. We had gotten used to the hustle and bustle of the kitchen.

“It’s fine. Tell Louis to offer them a dessert on the house because this soup is going to take at least another fifteen.”

I wanted to slam my head against the counter. Or better yet, use the pan Isobel was now putting on the drying rack to hit over my head. “Fuck. Alright.”

Finding Louis was easy enough. He was making his rounds in the front of the restaurant, his pleasant attitude most likely earning him more than average tips. The kind of people who came to Lesauvage were wealthy enough to tip generously. Sometimes they didn’t, but for the most part, Louis wouldn’t be starving anytime soon. “Louis!” I hissed under my breath when he passed by the kitchen doors, cups in hands to refill. He jumped comically.

“Christ, Dom, you scared me,” he replied in a quiet voice, not wanting any of the customers to hear. “What?”

“Tell table eleven there was a complication with their soup and dessert is on the house.”

“What the fuck happened to their soup?”

I raised a brow. “Michel made it.”

Michel’s boyfriend drama had already made it around the restaurant. Twice. Chefs were a nosy bunch. Louis nodded in understanding and filled up a cup with iced tea as he looked towards where I assumed table eleven was. I actually hadn’t ever really paid attention to the front setup of Lesauvage because I had always entered through the back door.

“Fine. But I’m recommending the chocolate mousse because you’re here and you make it the best.”

“Compliments will get you everywhere,” I replied with a wink.

He grinned. “Got me into your bed, didn’t it?”

Louis and I had a fling when I had started working at Lesauvage. I was fresh out of culinary school, bright eyed and bushy tailed, and he was the experienced waiter who comforted me in the lounge my first day when my boss had completely ripped me a new one. He was the unattainable, three-years-older coworker who I was moon-eyed over for at least five months before we actually slept together. And once we had, it was like some switch had been flipped inside my body and he was suddenly nothing but a friend.

Thank the fucking lord he felt the same way.

“You’re damn right it did. Now go make me proud, Tomlinson.”

When I hastily returned to the kitchen, Italia was already ten times ahead where Michel had been with the soup. I sent her a thankful look and grabbed the beef stock, passing it her way as I grabbed a knife and began chopping the green onions for my own dish.

As much as I complained about the hustle and bustle of the kitchen, I secretly thrived in it. It was what I had missed when I had been in culinary school. So many of my classmates cooked their meals silently. When I cooked at home, I blasted music and sang loudly and off-key to myself. At work, I had the conversation of other people. I liked learning about Italia’s kids and Isobel’s ex-boyfriend who kept trying to call her. I even liked Michel, even though right now he wasn’t my favorite person in the world.

School had been lonely. At least here I felt like I belonged.

“They’re good for the chocolate mousse!” Louis shouted over the sound of Isobel doing the dishes and Italia chopping more vegetables.

“You’re a saint, Tomlinson!” I replied, dropping the spices needed onto Italia’s cutting board. She slid them into the soup with her knife and the skill of a seasoned Lesauvage veteran.

The chocolate mousse was luckily already in the fridge cooling from my prep this morning, so I didn’t have to worry about making it at that exact moment. I did finish the salad I was working on and passed it off to Sydney, who was another runner. She grabbed the plate and sped off to table seven.

The time went by quickly when I was in the kitchen. My thoughts could roam because the movements of cooking were muscle memory at this point. When I had first been hired, I had been terrified to mess anything up. The first time I had pulled a Michel, I had cried. My boss had yelled at me pretty badly, but had brought me into his office afterwards to apologize and assure me that I was doing a great job. Now, it felt like second nature to pour the green onions into the butter garlic sauce that was sautéing. And when Italia handed me the soup that she had completed, I sent her a grateful look and wasted no time in handing it off to Louis. We worked as a team here.

I thrived on that.

“Get those chocolate mousses out and ready,” I told Michel when he came back from his break. His hand didn’t look too worse for wear, but he looked decently embarrassed. I knew, at least for tonight, there would be no more mistakes.

“I’m really sorry, Dom,” he said softly, preparing for my anger.

“It’s fine, Michel. Just work on desserts for now, okay? But this is the comp dessert for table eleven, so try to pay attention, yeah?”

He hung his head, but nodded and went to go prep the mousse. It wasn’t that Michel wasn’t talented. He wouldn’t have been hired if he hadn’t been a great chef. But the boyfriend thing was really getting to him. I hoped he had at least the next two days off to recoup.

“Dom,” I heard Louis say about thirty minutes later as he walked through the kitchen door. He had the empty plates from table eleven in his hand and handed them off to Isobel. “They’re ready for the dessert.” He eyed me questionably when Michel handed them off to me, as if it was wrong that I had let Michel touch them after his little mishap but I had faith in the chefs. “These better be good,” Louis said in a warning tone.

“I made them, Tomlinson, of course they’re good,” I snapped, clicking my tongue in annoyance. It was a bad habit I had done when I was a kid and never seemed to shake it.

He shrugged, taking the completed desserts and walking back out to the restaurant. “They looked great, Michel!” I encouraged, turning to continue chopping the beef I had been working on before Louis had come in.

When I cooked, time passed by without my notice. What felt like two minutes later but was really thirty, Louis walked back into the kitchen with a solemn look on his face. “They want to see the chef.”

“Who?”

“Table eleven.”

Shit. “You said they were fine with the soup, yeah?” Louis nodded, which meant the problem was with the chocolate mousse. And since Michel had done nothing but added the whipped cream and chocolate shavings on top, if they had a real problem with the mousse, it was on me. “Fuck. Alright. Italia, can you finish this dish for me really quick?”

Italia nodded, looking up from the celery she was chopping to examine the chicken I was seasoning to see how much she would need to do to complete it. Nervously wiping my hands on my apron after I washed them quickly, I tried to make myself look a little more presentable. It was rare that chefs were invited to the front of the restaurant, so we were usually unkempt and had food on our clothes. It didn’t matter to me what I looked like as long as the food was good, but I knew it was a shock to the high-end patrons of the restaurant.

Louis led me over to table eleven, where three people were sitting. There were two men and one gorgeous woman that looked like she could model for a living. She was happily chatting and holding hands with one of the men, excitedly waving around her free hand. He looked engrossed in her story, nodding and smiling and staring at her like she was the best thing in the world. Their companion was simply taking sips of his wine (a wonderful red that went really well with the chocolate mousse and I thanked Louis for obviously recommending it to them) and pursing his lips in response to whatever the woman was saying.

She stopped talking when she noticed Louis and sent a blinding smile at us. “This is the chef, I presume?”

“Dominique Blanchard,” I said, holding out my hand for her to shake. I was thankful I had run my hands under some soap and water. We weren’t allowed to have our nails painted in case some of the varnish fell off into the food, but her fingers were perfectly manicured and painted a vibrant blue. “I’m sorry again about the soup. We had an incident in the kitchen.”

She waved it off. “The soup was fine. That chocolate mousse, however? It was to die for!”

I felt my shoulders deflate. I had been so worried that they were upset with their experience or food that I hadn’t even thought they had wanted to chat because they enjoyed their meal. “Thank you. It’s a Lesauvage specialty.”

“Dominique makes it the best,” Louis supplied helpfully from behind me. I grinned nervously.

“We all loved it,” the man holding her hand spoke, and I was surprised to hear an Irish accent. “It was the best thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“I’m glad you enjoyed it.” And I was glad it took the attention off the fact that their soup was late. The other man stayed quiet, simply ignoring the conversation as he sipped at his wine again.

“I have the weirdest proposition for you. Please feel free to say no if you don’t want to, but I would kick myself if I didn’t ask.”

My eyes strayed back to the woman, who was talking to me politely.

“I’m two months pregnant,” she said happily, her hand going to her stomach like most pregnant women did when their pregnancy was announced, “and I’m so incredibly exhausted nowadays. I can barely muster up enough energy to come out to dinner, let alone make myself toast in the morning. I was wondering if you’d ever consider being a personal chef?”

#mep #mep sneak peek #1dff #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles au

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saiilorstars · 3 years

Text

Rise Up

Ch.12: For the Girl Who Had Everything

Previous Story: It Had To Be You || Current Masterlist

Pairings: Barry Allen x OFC

Chapter Summary: Team Flash enlists the help of newcomer Black Orchid to save Belén and Barry from Datura's and Poison Ivy's clutches. While they figure out the best course of action, Belén and Barry are each submerged into their own personal worlds...turned nightmares?

Pronunciation of OC: Bell-en. The last syllable has an emphasis so it’s not pronounced like ‘Helen’ would be.

Taglist: @ocfairygodmother @anotherunreadblog @transformerfan97 @stareyedplanet @perfectlystiles [If you’d like to be part of this OC’s taglist, let me know!]

Author's Note:

Itaclis is for Belén's world.

Bold is for Barry's world.

~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~ 0 ~

"Belén? You ready to go?" Iris' voice didn't register until the third time she asked the same question.

Belén finally blinked and tore her eyes from the nothingness she'd been entranced with. She blinked a couple times until she realized she was standing in front of a metal table, inside what looked like a laboratory. She herself was wearing a lab coat and some protective glasses. "...what?" she whispered. Where the hell was she!?

"Belén, we're going to be late!" Iris exclaimed. "Don't tell me you have cold feet already!"

"Cold feet—what?" Belén made a face that indicated pure, honest confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"Hey," Linda Park strode into the lab with her phone in hand. "Caitlin says she's already at the store. We good?"

"Yeah, I'm just waiting for Belén to get with the program," Iris chuckled. "I think she's got cold feet."

"Already?" Linda gaped. "You're not at the aisle yet."

Aisle?" Belén repeated, though something inside told her she'd be figuring it out in a couple seconds. Her eyes found her left hand where a shiny silver ring sat on her ring finger. "Oh my God is that an engagement ring!?" she practically screeched.

Now she had the odd stares from Iris and Linda.

"She's out of it," Iris shook her head.

"We gotta go or we're going to be late," Linda said.

Between the two, they grabbed Belén's things, pulling her protective glasses off and her lab coat, and dragged her out of the building...all in the meanwhile she had a meltdown over the news.

"What do you mean I'm getting married!? I can't get married!" she frantically looked between the two women holding her arms. They were walking her down the street as if she'd try to run away from them, and actually...if given the chance, she might just.

"Belén, wake up!" Iris gave her an odd glance. "This has been going on for almost a year now. This is the last fitting of your wedding dress—"

"I don't have a wedding dress because I'm not getting married!" Belén exclaimed. "I never got engaged! I am not engaged!"

"Jesus, Belén, how many hours of sleep did you get last night?" Linda asked, giving Belén the same look Iris had.

"The right amount to know that I never got engaged to anyone!" Belén finally wrestled free from their hooks and whirled around to face them. She pointed a sharp finger at the two women, warning them not to get any closer. "Now listen to me when I say that I am not getting married!"

"Fine, but you're the one who's going to explain that to Barry later," Iris said, freezing Belén in her spot.

The ombre-blonde blinked several times as the words hit her. "... Barry?" she repeated. "I'm...getting married...t-to Barry?" Iris and Linda both nodded their heads. "What…?" Belén felt light headed. Oh yes she did. "...when…?"

When she started rocking on her feet to the point of nearly falling, Iris and Linda hurried to catch her.

"Oh God Belén, don't tell me your already pregnant!" Linda's laugh was no joke for Belén who nearly fell again.

"Don't say that! I'm not—what is going on!?" Belén shouted to the air.

~0~

"Shivhan Jang," Cisco loudly read the name off the profile he had posted on the screen on wall for the others to see, "Twenty-seven year old with no actual priors…"

"Then why is she in our system?" Joe cut him off and pointed to the fact Cisco had the CCPD system open for them to see.

A smile spread across his face. "She had a speeding ticket she never paid."

"Okay, moving on?" Iris motioned them not to get so stuck on that one detail. They were on a time limit here, after all.

"Okay," Cisco clapped his hands together before continuing with his briefing. "Let's see. She and her family emigrated from Korea when she was 5, she's been a part of Central City's school records since kindergarten but we've got no college attendance. She dropped out."

"What about her powers?" Joe asked. "Did she get them from the Particle Accelerator?"

"Yup, there's footage of her in a flower shop the night the Particle Accelerator went off. I'd show it to you but it is not pretty."

"Can we trust her?" Joe wearily asked. He couldn't believe they were relying on a woman Belén technically kidnapped.

"She wants her freedom…" Cisco reminded.

"But how do we know she won't run out on us as soon as Caitlin finishes healing her?"

"Because we're chipping her," Cisco said so matter-of-factly that both Joe and Iris stared at him in shock.

"We're what?" Iris put a hand behind her ear just to make sure she was listening clearly.

"Relax," Cisco waved her and Joe off. "It's just a lie, but she won't know that. We tell her we found a way to switch her powers off. She likes her powers. She will help us."

"I don't know," Joe shook his head. "Sounds like we're being…"

"Shady?" Iris finished for him. "First, Belén kidnaps her, then we force her to help us with lies and deceit?"

"The situation is dire, Iris!" Cisco snapped. "We're not hurting her and we really are letting her go afterwards. Belén can kill us later."

"And you know she will kill us for letting her go," Iris reiterated that part just so they all knew what was going to come after. Cisco seemed more or less prepared for it.

~0~

"Barry?" someone softly called. "Barry?"

The speedster in question stirred awake after about the fourth call of his name. He opened his eyes and met a white sheet bunched up beside him. A bed. He was laying on a bed.

"Barry?"

It clicked to Barry that it was Belén calling his name. He sat upright and rubbed his eyes. There was something wrong here and he couldn't tell what it was.

"Good morning," Belén was sitting near the foot of the bed, to Barry's left, and was smiling at the speedster. "You must have been really tired because I've been trying to wake you up for a good 15 minutes now."

"What happened?" Barry dropped his hands from his face, though he was still partially groggy. "I thought I was…" but he trailed off when he finally looked at Belén. "Oh my God…Belén you're-you're…" He could finish the words in one go.

Belén raised an eyebrow at him. "What? Barry, are you okay?"

But Barry was speechless. Now he knew there was definitely something wrong. "You're...pregnant."

Belén's look indicated she was worried for him and not herself, like he was. She gazed down at her pregnant belly, which looked to be around 4 months at least, and chuckled. "Okay, what were you dreaming about that's got you so out of it?"

Barry's mouth was gaping and it didn't look like it would be closing anytime soon. "What!? But you're —"

"Pregnant, yeah," she nodded. "Have been for 5 months now. Did you just notice, or…?"

Barry looked like he would pass out at any moment. "When did that — how did that — what!?"

"Okay, Barry, you're seriously worrying me now."

"I'm... ut you're pregnant! You're—" Barry was stopped only because Belén had put her hand over his mouth. Still, his eyes were wide in alarm.

"I know, pregnant," Belén nodded slowly. "We've been through this. Now I'm going to take my hand off your mouth and we're going to get ready for the day. We've got work. Got it?" Barry slowly nodded and, keeping her word, Belén drew her hand away from his mouth. "There," she smiled, "All better. Now c'mon! I'm craving some chocolate banana pancakes!" She pecked his lips and scooted off the bed, though it was a bit of a struggle.

All Barry did was watch her go with wide, wide eyes.

~ 0 ~

Belén felt like she couldn't breath...and it wasn't because of the wedding dress hugging her body. No, no, it was the world she was living in.

"Belén, you don't look so happy," Caitlin's voice drew Belén's gaze from her reflection. She'd been staring at herself in the mirror for a good five minutes, but she wasn't in-tune with the rest of reality. "You look beautiful."

They were inside the store where apparently Belén had ordered her wedding dress from. Caitlin, Iris and Linda were sitting across her, watching her in delight as they got a full view of the finished dress.

"Yeah, um…" Belén cleared her throat and turned away from the mirror. "I'm just...it doesn't feel real…"

Caitlin smiled. "Yeah, that's understandable."

"You look so pretty, girl!" Linda exclaimed. "Barry's going to lose it when he sees you!"

At the mention of Barry, Belén stiffened. She looked down at her left hand again, where the shiny ring still sat. "I'm…" she swallowed hard. "I need my Mom. Where is she?"

"At home, where else?" Iris gave her a strange look. "You and her don't really talk, remember?"

Well, that rang right.

"I...need to see Barry, then," Belén figured if anyone would tell her the truth it would be Barry. Of course, the others didn't see it that way.

"You just can't wait, huh?" Linda gave her a smirk.

Belén reddened in a short minute. "Oh God, stop!"

"Oh give her a break," Caitlin waved them off, but of course they just burst into laughter.

"I need to see Barry, where is he?" Belén grabbed Caitlin's wrist. "Please?"

Of course Caitlin told her Barry was at the precinct. That also rang truth. Needless to say, Belén dragged Caitlin back to the fitting room so that she could help unzip the damn dress for her. She needed to get away from there and find Barry.

She didn't even think about giving any of her friends an explanation for her hasty leave...but it wasn't like they weren't going to guess. Luckily for her, the way to the precinct was just like it always was. There were few things that seemed just like her world, but this couldn't be it.

She kept thinking that as she walked into the precinct. She was only halfway into the bullpen when she spotted Barry coming out of the Captain's office. Well, he seemed normal.

"Barry?" she called once and had his full attention.

His face brightened and soon he bid goodbye to his co-worker. He came directly to her and greeted her with a kiss that, honestly, felt pretty real. "Hey," Barry smiled at her. "How'd it go today?"

"Hm?" it took Belén a few seconds to realize he meant her trip to the wedding dress store. "Oh, right, um...we gotta talk about that."

"Oh, okay," Barry nodded. "You want to go up to the lab?"

Belén agreed and allowed him to take her hand—her left hand—and lead her out of the bullpen. His hand felt real enough to be him...but there was something inside telling her that this was all wrong.

~ 0 ~

Caitlin finished stitching up the last bit of open skin on Shivhan's shoulder. Soon as she said she was done, Shivhan pulled up the STAR Labs shirt she'd borrowed up to her shoulder again.

"Thanks," Shivhan mumbled and got up from the medbed. "So, what do I do next?"

"Well, we're making you a tracker and implanting a communications system to your suit so we can talk to you while you're out," Caitlin picked up her tablet she'd left on the table.

"And when do I get to go out?"

"Soon."

Shivhan sighed loudly in annoyance. "Sure, take your time. Not like I'm in a hurry to leave."

Caitlin looked up from her tablet. "Why? We could offer you help here."

"I don't need help from you people. You let the Azalea and the Flash get kidnapped. Good going."

Caitlin pursed her lips at the hard jab. She couldn't exactly argue much in their defense there, right? Shivhan seemed to know what she'd done because she smirked.

Caitlin briefly glared in return them added, "And yet you needed my help stitching you back up." That made Shivhan's smirk falter. "Don't have many doctors around you?"

"They tend to get robbed where I'm from," Shivhan meant to leave the room, though she had no idea where she'd be going since she didn't know STAR Labs yet.

"Then maybe we can help you after this," Caitlin's offer forced Shivhan to turn around. "Help out that neighborhood of yours…"

"That is my territory. I will take care of it!"

A ghost of a smile appeared on Caitlin's face. "I guess it's not all about self preservation."

Now it was Shivhan's turn to glare. Caitlin, on her part, just smiled kindly.

"It's okay. That's your home and you have every right to be defensive about it. Why do you think neither the Azalea nor the Flash leave Central City? It's their home too and they want to defend it."

Shivhan rolled her eyes, but secretly she respected that. She was big on loyalty. And right now...she supposed she had to be loyal to the two metas who'd been defending them all this time.

"Dammit," she muttered under her breath. "Alright, let's go get those two metas."

~ 0 ~

Belén stared at her engagement ring while Barry went around his lab to clean up some things before they left.

"Hey Bells," he called, unknowingly using her nickname she was sure he wasn't supposed to know in this fake world. "Could you give me that file?"

Belén followed his gaze to the desk behind her and picked up said file. He nodded that it was that one and so she handed it to him.

"You have a lot of work today?" she asked as a means to keep the silence away and, honestly, to weed out any information that could help her figure out what was going on.

"Just a big case," Barry left the file flat at a table. "I think I have everything good but you know Captain Jang wants everything to be perfect."

"Captain Jang?" Belén repeated.

"Shivhan Jang?"

Belén blinked in shock. That was the bartender she met…

"Oh my God. Shivhan Jang?" she brought an index finger to bite on.

"What are you doing?" Barry walked back to her. "You don't usually bite your nails."

"I don't?"

He pulled her finger from her mouth and shook his head. "No. You work at a lab. You think it's disgusting."

"A lab...right…" Belén pursed her lips there. "What do I do there again? I thought I was a reporter or something…"

Barry laughed. "Right. Like you would ever leave your botany for anything."

"I'm a...botanist…" Belén nodded her head. Oh yeah, there was something wrong here because she didn't have a clue as to what a botanist would do. She loved her plants, but...she was no scientist.

"I think this whole wedding preparation is taking a toll on you," Barry smiled at her. "Thank God it's almost over, right?"

"Hmm? When is…?"

"Next week! Can you believe it?" Barry didn't notice her shock as he picked up her left hand to stroke her skin. "Feels like yesterday was the day I proposed. The park's fountain water was really cold."

"You proposed at our park fountain?" Belén blinked. That...sounded like it could be real. Their park fountain did have special memories.

"Course," Barry smiled at her. "Now I just really want us to get to the date so I can call you my wife."

"Wife…" Belén said the word and felt like she lost air. It did make her feel butterflies in her stomach. "I'm...going to be your... wife…"

No one could take the big grin off Barry's face. Belén certainly couldn't do it, even if she did know it wasn't real.

"Sooo…how's about I take my fiance out for some lunch?" Barry brought her hand up to his lips for a kiss.

Goddammit , Belén swooned. She nodded slowly and silently while her heart jolted in her chest.

~0~

By this point, Barry knew there was something so, so wrong. After a rather quiet breakfast with Belén, he practically raced to get to work. Least there, things seemed normal. The only thing that wasn't the same was the fact Veronica wasn't part of the precinct, neither was Patty. By the time lunch came around, Barry was going crazy trying to figure out what was wrong with his world. When Belén walked in, she found Barry at his desk with his head down and hands over his head's back.

"Barry?" her voice immediately pulled him up in a sitting position.

There she was, looking very...pregnant. He almost did a double take, but it was enough for Belén to notice.

"I know...not very...pretty-" she made a gesture at her stomach. "-appealing."

"No, that's not -" Barry didn't know what to say to her. It was hard enough looking at her. "I'm sorry."

"Instead of an apology, I'd really like to know what's going on with you," she walked further inside the lab. "This morning you were... completely out of it."

Barry nodded. It was a fair request, but it wasn't an easy one to respond to. He turned his chair to face her and offered her a tiny small. "I'm just...having some trouble waking up." Wasn't that the truth.

"Yeah, I know I sleep crazy," Belén sheepishly smiled.

Barry gave her a look. She wasn't a crazy sleeper. He didn't have the chance to sleepover with her a lot, but the few times he did she always slept peacefully. She barely moved.

Just something else that was wrong.

"Can we go to lunch?" Barry asked her. The only way he would figure out what was going on was if he got to talking.

Belén would be the only one he could trust.

~0~

"Hey," Joe strode into the cortex rather quickly if anyone had paid enough attention. "Did we figure out a plan to get Barry and Belén back?"

"Working on it," Cisco was tinkering with a small device in his hands.

"Yeah, uh, we got another problem," Joe informed, making Cisco look up from his work.

"What?"

Joe looked shaky, jittery…

"Where is she!?" Veronica Green's voice carried into the room minutes before she appeared. She looked absolutely furious, and yet...terrified.

"Oh you didn't," Cisco shot Joe a look. The man rubbed the back of his head, to his credit looking guilty. "You told her!?"

"I had to. Her daughter's been kidnapped," Joe reminded. "I already have my own son out there. I know exactly what it feels like—"

"We were getting them back! She's mad as hell!" Cisco flapped a hand in Veronica's direction. "With a gun!"

"Oh give it a break and tell me where my daughter is," Veronica snapped. "I cannot believe you let her get kidnapped! This is exactly why I don't want Belén anywhere near this world!"

"Well she's in it and we're working on it," Cisco nearly snapped himself. "Now would you please stop shouting at me? I'm trying to work on something here!"

"What is it?" Joe spotted the small device in Cisco's hand.

"It's a comm. system for Shivhan," Cisco turned back for the table he'd been working at.

"Who's Shivhan?" Veronica crossed her arms.

"Someone helping us to get Belén and Barry back."

"This is crazy! Why can't we just get the CCPD into this!?"

Cisco shook his head and mumbled something that sounded like 'beginners'. He turned back woman with a polite smile. "Because these are dangerous, poisonous, metahumans that the CCPD is not capable of fighting."

Veronica looked outraged. Her eyes flickered to Joe and waited for him to say something in their defense, but of course he never did. "You're just going to let him say things like that?"

"I ain't fighting no poisonous metas," Joe gave her a crazed look. "I have seen first-hand what those two are like and believe me when I tell you that these guys-" he pointed at Cisco, "-know how to handle it. With some supervision of course."

"Kind of gave the compliment and took it away," Cisco mumbled to him before facing Veronica. "Look, Ms. Green, Belén knows how to handle herself. She can hang on until we get there to help her."

But that didn't seem to satisfy Veronica much. "You just take this so easily. Like it's normal." Before Cisco could say it pretty much was part of their daily meta life, Veronica went on. "I could lose Belén just like I lost Maritza and Rayan."

"You're not losing anyone," Joe pointed at her then moved his finger to Cisco. "And you gotta hurry up. We cannot let Datura and Poison Ivy keep Belén and Barry another minute."

Cisco agreed.

~ 0 ~

"Sooo...we're not getting lunch," Barry confessed as he and Belén walked down the street. They'd been walking for a while now and while Belén had thought of asking him to just speed them to their destination, the act of walking and talking was a better strategy to get more information.

Now though, she looked at him curiously. "What? Why not?"

"I have a surprise for you," he announced with that same cheeky smile he had in real life.

"Well, what is it?"

"It's just down the block," he nodded up ahead. They'd turned down a new block of houses recently but Belén wasn't sure what he was nodding at.

He walked them to the last house of the block. While he didn't say anything, Belén noticed the 'for sale' sign in the front yard now had a bright red 'sold' over it.

Barry stopped them at the front door and reached for something in his pocket. "I did a thing...a surprise...and...well…" he pulled out a key that he held between them, "Surprise."

Belén's dark eyes widened as she looked at the keys and the front door. "You didn't…"

"I did," nodded Barry. "We talked about it but with all the planning we never really got around to looking. I thought I'd do that and I found one I know you'll love."

"Barry, I…" Belén didn't know what to do nor say. Her head kept turning from his soft face to the front door.

"It's ours, Bells," he put a finger under her chin and gently turned her gaze to him. "It's our home."

Belén couldn't help it. Her eyes teared up. It wasn't real, she knew, but she couldn't help wish - for a brief second - that it was. She wished they weren't always in constant danger with metahumans trying to kill them. It always felt like there was more bad than good in their lives, more tears than smiles.

She wished they could just be happy and safe.

She threw her arms around Barry and hugged him tight. Barry wrapped his arms around her and pressed a kiss to her head.

"I love you, Bells," he whispered.

"I love you too," she closed her eyes tight.

~ 0 ~

"You did all that in the span of 3 hours?" Shivhan looked over the magenta colored suit Cisco had apparently made for her.

Cisco had brought the suit to the cortex for her and the others to see. They still weren't very sure of Shivhan but so far, she hadn't tried to run away...though they were aware she was under the lie that she was chipped.

"Yeah, well, I was a bit rushed," Cisco huffed. "But I'll get it done better after we get our friends back."

"Nina's on her way here," Iris looked up from her phone.

Beside her, Veronica shook her head. "I cannot believe Dr. Clarke is in on this as well."

"Goes to show you that everyone can be a meta and still have a life," Iris said as a means to support Belén's life style.

"Or it shows that everyone's a liar," Veronica made sure to look at everyone in the cortex.

"Hey, don't count me in your web, lady," Shivhan crossed her arms and looked Veronica in the face. "I'm here helping your daughter who, by the way," she made sure to look at Cisco, "I still don't know her actual name. But she knows mine? How's that fair."

"She found you fair and square," Cisco raised his hands.

Shivhan rolled her eyes and pointed at her new suit. "Tell me when I can wear this stupid thing, alright? I'm gonna go take a shot before I have to face a murderer." But just as she was leaving, Caitlin came into the cortex with a grim face.

"I think I know why Datura and Poison Ivy have been stealing from labs," she announced.

"She stole some sleep and dream prototypes, didn't she?" asked Joe.

"Yeah, and given everything else that she took, according to Harry...they might have used it to build a sort of...dream inducer."

"A dream what-now?" Veronica frowned at her. Even Shivhan turned around when she was meant to be finding a drink somewhere in the building.

"Harry and I went over it, and we're pretty sure they've put…" Caitlin briefly glanced at Shivhan before continuing, "...the Azalea and the Flash into dream comas. They're dreaming whatever Datura and Poison Ivy programmed them to."

"So they could basically be having nightmares?" Cisco shivered. "Like walking zombies? Or death?"

Caitlin hated he was choosing to put those images in their heads, especially when Veronica was right behind him.

"We need to get them out!" Veronica exclaimed. "My daughter could have the worst nightmare invented by some murderer!"

"Why put them through that, though?" Iris made the question no one else thought to ask. She received quite a look from Veronica.

"Who cares! We just need to get them out of it!"

"It matters because Datura obviously put a lot of thought into this plan," Iris argued. "It's only reasonable we try to figure out a reason why."

"Because she's a psychopathic murderer?" Shivhan shrugged. "Sometimes there's no reason except to just be plain mean."

"She's right," Harry's voice cut in before anyone else could say anything. He walked into the cortex, making it his first appearance since Belén and Barry were taken. The guilt, while he fought it, was burdening his shoulders. "Datura used to be calculating before she came to this Earth. Now she's acting just like Zoom. She wants to be better than the Azalea before killing her. Miss Jang is right. Sometimes there's no reason except to just be mean. And if Datura controls the worlds...she's going to be outright cruel."

~ 0 ~

"Oh yum," Belén took a whiff of her plate the moment it was set in front of her. She'd ordered steak with mashed potatoes and some vegetables.

Barry watched her eat and had to chuckle at her excitement. It definitely felt like her. When Belén noticed his stare, she blushed and stopped eating.

"I had an insane craving today for steak. It's cooked so...we should be good," she rubbed the top of her stomach.

The smile on Barry faltered for a second. Right. That was definitely not real. It couldn't be. But still…

"How, um...how did that happen?" he knew the moment he asked the question that it wasn't worded right and it would definitely put him in an awkward situation.

"How did what happen?" Belén raised an eyebrow at him. Barry didn't say anything but his eyes flickered to her stomach. "What? You mean when did I get pregnant? Barry! You were there!"

"I know, but—"

"I didn't make this happen on my own, you know!"

Barry cleared his throat while he felt his face warm up. "I haven't...we've never…" but of course he couldn't say finish that sentence because apparently it wasn't true here.

"We never what?" Belén demanded to know. "Don't tell me you're doubting your fatherhood all of a sudden."

Barry shook his head. But it was just another face that didn't fit in this reality. Because in his world, he never touched Belén. And she wasn't the type to cheat on him. There was no way in hell she could be pregnant.

"Seriously Barry, what is going on with you?" Belén put her fork down on the table. "All day today you've been so weird. I'm a little worried, honestly."

"I-I'm fine," Barry coughed. "I think I just hit my head or something."

"And you forgot things?" Belén smiled in amusement. "Or is it that dad-shock come early?"

Barry bobbed his head. Dad. It was wrong and he had to figure out a way to get out of it. "Hey Belén, what's your favorite color?"

"Pink, why? You knew that…?"

Dammit, that was right. "Why is it your favorite color again?"

"Um...because it's on my favorite flower, Azaleas."

Dammit, also right.

"Alright, Barry, now you're really - oh!" Belén suddenly froze which, of course, made Barry immediately panic.

"What? What is it—"

"It's moving! My baby's moving!" Belén exclaimed and shifted in her seat so that she could sit sideways. "Barry, come here!"

Barry didn't really know what to do, but for some reason his feet moved without his consent. In 2 seconds he was with Belén but his hands trembled as they went back and forth trying to decide whether or not to touch her.

Belén grabbed one of his hands and gently placed it over her belly. Sure enough, Barry felt the light thump underneath.

It'snotrealit'snotrealit'snotreal, Barry told himself repeatedly to remind himself that he couldn't get sucked into this fantasy.

But the thumps continued.

"She's moving," Belén smiled with tears in her eyes.

Barry's gaze snapped up to meet hers. "...she? It's a girl?" Belén nodded her head.

Oh my God it's not real, and yet as Barry told himself that he just couldn't take his hand off Belén's stomach. He was feeling his baby kick.

~ 0 ~

Barry had brought them into the house which turned out to be beautiful. Belén never really thought about house shopping, and much less house shopping with your fiance. She was letting herself get sucked into this world and she hated it...but she just couldn't snap out of it. As Barry led her into the dining table and the kitchen, describing all the things they could do...she found herself falling more in love.

"And I promise not to burn the house down trying to cook that lasagna of yours," he said after showing her the stove.

A light chuckle slipped through her lips. "It's cute you think you'll ever get my family's recipe."

"Well, I'm going to be part of your family now," he swiftly countered with. "You could make the exception, then…"

"Yeah, we'll see!" she bopped his nose and started heading out. "Let's go see upstairs!"

"But I want that recipe!" he called after her.

They came up to the second floor and found four doors. They poked their head inside the first door's room and found a small room that could be for a guest.

"Or, you know...for a...baby...or something…" Barry said quietly, though not that quietly because Belén heard perfectly.

She smiled to herself. "Yeah, maybe…" she turned and walked for the next room. It turned out to be a decent sized bathroom. "Oh, I love that mirror," she gawked at the long, rectangular mirror hanging on the wall. "Is that a marble counter?"

"Easy, you look more in love with that than me," Barry frowned as she stroked the counter.

She laughed. "Jealous, much?"

"Let's keep looking, c'mon. Our room has a balconyyyy…" he sing-sang for her and got her attention.

"Don't lie to me…"

"I'm not…"

Belén bolted from the bathroom and skipped the third door to go straight for what was meant to be their bedroom. She flung open the door and saw a large bedroom inside. There was a beautiful, sparkly chandelier on the ceiling. But then her eyes found the balcony and she definitely fell in love with it.

"Oh those are so pretty!" she squealed and rushed inside the room. "You know I miss that from when I used to live at my dad's house?"

"Yeah," Barry nodded. "I thought you might like this one."

"I do," she said before opening the balcony doors. She stepped outside and was met with a gentle breeze. "Oh my God I love this."

Barry came up from behind and wrapped his arms around her waist. "I'm glad you do." He pressed a kiss to her cheek and held her close. "Because this is our home. It's our room. And I can't wait to live here with you."

Belén breathed in a shaky breath. "Yeah…I'd love to live here with...you…" she turned around and ran her hands up and down his arms. "We'd be happy here."

"Course we will be," Barry smiled at her. He gently pulled her back into the bedroom. "Now you know why I can't wait for next week. Are you ready to become Mrs. Allen?"

"Uum…" Belén bit her lip. "Well...I would like to be...some day…"

"That day is so close," Barry nuzzled his nose next to hers while she brought her hands to rest on his shoulders. He soon kissed her.

~ 0 ~

In the real world, Datura ran her index finger down the side of Barry's face. The unconscious speedster was placed on a metal bed with a few pads on wires sticking to his face, all connected to a machine behind.

"Don't be tempted," Poison Ivy's smooth voice warned.

Datura looked up from the speedster and scowled. "Never. I just find...it amazing. Pure appearance, though." She gazed down at Barry, who was no longer wearing his cowl as that had been ripped off the moment he was knocked out. "It's too bad Zoom is going to kill him later on. If it was up to me...he'd get to live."

"Really?" Poison Ivy crossed her arms. "You would seriously let him leave?"

Datura rolled her eyes but said nothing more.

Poison Ivy dropped her arms and moved down the room until she came up beside the second bed placed only a few feet from Barry's. This one had Belén laying on it, unconscious and with the same wires on her face as Barry. Her mask had also disappeared. "And this one? Did she ever have a chance?"

"If she didn't have her powers, then maybe," Datura turned to face Belén, but as soon as she did...a deep glare settled over her face. There was only honest hatred towards Belén, whether Datura wanted to hide it or not.

"I don't think so," Poison Ivy shook her head. She passed a hand over Belén's face, thinking it would be so easy to just end her right there...but of course Datura would never want it to be that easy. "I believe that was the plan...until you met her...and saw what she had."

Datura met Poison Ivy's look and glared. "She has the powers that can save my life. That's what I need from her."

"So then let's just take them and leave," Poison Ivy knew her suggestion would be shut down but she had to make a point of saying it out loud. "Better yet, let's just take Belén and go back to our Earth. We can run all the tests we need back there, with people who will back us up, and we can do it all from the comfort of our home."

"No," Datura's voice was hard and final. "She dies here," she said with a clenched jaw. "Where her friends are, where her family is...and where her Barry is. They can all watch her die here. That is what I deserve. Watch her life crumble as mine did." Her eyes gazed over Belén's figure and, without her knowledge, one of her hands started glowing with one of her siphoned powers. "Let's make the nice dreams turn into nightmares." She moved to the machine controlling the dream worlds. "Because if I know Belén, she's getting sucked into the fantasy whether she likes it or not. And that means when it finally crashes down, it'll hurt even more. Let's make it rain with pain." She reached for one of the small knobs on the machine and happily turned it over until a new sound took it over. The faint blue glow it had turned into an angry red.

Poison Ivy noticed Datura's hand glowing again. She always did. She was always aware that her friend slowly slipping from her, and if they didn't do something soon...

Soon there would be nothing left of her friend.

~0~

"I've been thinking of some names," Belén confessed to Barry once the two were out of the restaurant.

Barry, who was holding her hand, looked down at her with the utmost curiosity. "Really? What are they?"

"You can veto them if you'd like. Like what Ross and Rachel did when they were having a girl," Belén's suggestion made Barry laugh. "I'm serious!"

"Just go ahead!"

"Fine. I was thinking about Reneé?"

"Mm, that's almost as bad as Ruth."

Belén rolled her eyes. "Alright. How about Alya?"

"Better," Barry nodded.

"Then there's Ximena. I also kind of like Valerie, Aileen, and Everly."

"You...have put a lot of thought into this," Barry concluded, making Belén laugh. "I like those..."

"Well since I'm not at the lab anymore, there's not a lot for me to do," she shrugged.

"Lab? What lab?"

Belén gave him a glance, waiting for him to take it back but of course he didn't. "My lab? My job? At Mercury Labs? My botany work!"

"... right, right," Barry quickly said in an attempt to keep things looking normal. "You're a...botanist…"

See that wasn't right either.

But he didn't have a lot of time to think about it. All of a sudden, they heard gunshots.

~0~

"When do you want to go to the furniture store?" Barry asked once they were out of the house. He was busy locking the front door of their new house.

Belén rocked on her feet while she thought about the idea. "Ummm...don't know. Whenever I guess."

"Well, I don't think we should waste time. We get married next week so we should have things semi-ready for then…" Barry trailed off when he noticed Belén looking at the bushes of their front yard. "What?"

"That would be the perfect spot to grow Azaleas," she said with a growing smile.

"Yeah? Go look at it, then. We can stop and buy some seeds."

Belén pointed at him, indicating she liked the idea. She moved to step down from the front porch when a strong force rumbled underneath her. "Wh-what's happening!?" she couldn't get her balance no matter how hard she tried. The ground shook with all its might.

"It's an earthquake!" Barry exclaimed.

~ 0 ~

No one seemed to know where the bullets were coming from at first, but the firing didn't stop.

And then people started going down.

Two across the street had blood splatter on their foreheads, on behind that caught a bullet in their chest.

"We gotta get out of here!" Barry exclaimed. His first reaction was to speed them out of there...until he realized he couldn't. "I don't have my powers," he realized in horror.

"Barry, I can't run…" Belén said fearfully as if she knew what was going to happen next.

"It's okay, we'll just go as far as you can," Barry tugged her hand forwards and made her at least sprint. He had no idea where those damn bullets were coming from except that they were nonstop.

He was about to turn them down a new block when he felt Belén's shake and scream. When he looked back, he saw a red dripping from the back of her neck. There was a bullet in the back of her head.

As quickly as the bullet came, the life slipped from her eyes. And Barry got to see it firsthand and up close.

"No! No! NO!" He screamed as he caught Belén's body from falling. Still, with his own body shaking, he dropped to his knees, with his arms cradling her body. "Belén!" he cried out but she was motionless. Her eyes were open, but still.

~ 0 ~

"Earthquakes don't happen in Central City!" Belén shrieked as she clung onto a pillar of the front porch.

"Well, they do!" Barry tried to find his footing anywhere he could.

The house was shaking and grumbling. Belén's eyes widened when she saw cracks started to run down from the pillar she was holding. Her first instinct was to let go, but in doing so she almost fell back if Barry hadn't caught her.

"We gotta get out of here!" he tried pushing them forwards, but every time he took a step the shaking forced them back 2 steps.

"How strong is this house?" Belén's gaze was rising as she saw the cracks spreading on the porch's ceiling. The cracks then became loud groans releasing bits of cement.

"Move!" Barry tried pushing her forwards again. She put all her effort into running but the shaking was too damn hard.

"AH!" she screeched when a chunk of a pillar slid off its place and fell just in front of her feet. She once again moved but with one hand fiercely holding onto Barry's. They just needed to get off the porch and onto the yard where they could wait the earthquake out.

But things went too fast.

"Belén!" Barry suddenly screamed before shoving Belén forwards with all his might. She toppled over the front steps with her own scream, but as soon as she raised her head off the ground she saw the porch ceiling crumble down over Barry.

"BARRY!" she screamed at the top of her lungs. "NO! NO!" she scrambled to her feet however she could and made way for the porch. Her vision was blurry but she saw dust and the pile of ceiling pieces over the porch. She tried to use her vines to take the pieces off, but to her horror she couldn't.

She didn't have her powers.

"No! No! C'mon!" she pulled and pulled at one piece but it was too heavy. With all her sobbing, she didn't even realize the shaking had stopped. All she knew was that Barry was trapped underneath and she couldn't save him. She dropped to her knees in front of the pillage and sobbed.

~ 0 ~

Datura had each of her hands touching Belén's and Barry's arms while she had her eyes closed. Soon as she opened her eyes, she met Poison Ivy's intent gaze from across.

"Well?" the ginger had her arms crossed.

A slight smirk spread across Datura's eyes. She was gleeful but she wanted to show some self control. She drew her hands from each of the metas' arms and sighed happily. "They're so distraught. Poor little soulmates have lost each other in such wicked ways. I only thank these powers of mine for letting me enter the mind."

"What now, then?" Poison Ivy walked towards them. "They're at their weakest, physically and mentally. Let's take Belén and go."

Before Datura could agree or disagree, a powerful blast of air threw her and Poison Ivy across the room.

"You're not taking my friend anywhere," the Tempest appeared in the air with her hands ready for a fight.

"Is this the Tempest I've read about?" Poison Ivy raised an eyebrow at the meta.

Datura groaned in annoyance. "More like a nuisance! Take care of her!"

"Fine, but we're getting the hell out of here with Belén!" Poison ivy got up on her feet and shot a vine directly at Nina.

However, a dark magenta vine ruptured the ground underneath Poison Ivy and chucked her to the side like actual trash. Datura blinked as her partner screamed before crashing down on the ground. When Datura turned back to Nina, she saw the latter was not alone anymore.

Black Orchid, donning a new magenta and black colored one-suit, stood tall and proud. Her face was covered with a long black mask.

"You have a Black Orchid in this world too?" Datura gritted her teeth together.

"It wouldn't be the best world if it didn't," Black Orchid flashed her a smirk.

"You should know I killed her too," Datura's eyes flashed a wicked magenta color not previously seen before.

And that was recorded by both the Tempest and Black Orchid. STAR Labs wanted every angle covered in order to use it against Datura later on.

"You're going down just like her," Datura's voice overlapped with that of a woman's. Purple vines wrapped around her arms as she raised them to fire strong, magenta bolts. At least, they looked like bolts.

Black Orchid's eyes widened before she jumped out of the way. As each of the magenta 'bolts' landed, they spread around.

"What is that?" Nina blinked in horror as she watched it suck the color off the ground it was spreading on.

"Chloroplast," Black Orchid swallowed hard and shot Datura a glare.

Datura just smirked. She raised her hands in an 'I've got more' motion. Black Orchid charged towards her, forgetting her fears for a moment. Datura welcomed her with a series of more chloroplast bolts that Black Orchid would just barely dodge.

"Hey Nina, get Belén and Barry," Cisco's voice instructed from their comms.

"Yeah, I'll get them," Nina nodded and turned for her friends lying unconsciously on their beds. She flew towards them only to be shot down with a vine. Her face hit the ground first, making sure to warn Nina she'd have bruises later on.

"You're not touching them," Poison Ivy was back in the game and was angrier than ever.

With a groan, Nina turned flat on her back. She drew one leg up as if she were going to sit up but instead pushed it forwards to release another blast of air. It rocked Poison Ivy back, despite her efforts to stay still, and gave Nina the chance to get up.

"Where'd they fish you out from, huh?" Datura threw her best punch across Black Orchid's face. She smirked as she watched Black Orchid rub her cheek.

Course her smugness was part of her problem.

Black Orchid swung back then shoved Datura down. "You're one confident bitch, but that's going to be your downfall."

Now it was Datura's turn to rub her chin, and when she did she felt drips of blood from her upper lip. With golden eyes she rose from the ground and delivered a series of electric bolts. "I can't be defeated, you idiot. I am literally invincible," she declared, once again with a second voice overlapping with her own.

Black Orchid might have been a tiny scared there. She retreated to hide behind a crate while Datura began firing the electric bolts. Meanwhile, the Tempest flew to avoid Poison Ivy's entangling vines.

"Nina, get Belén! And Barry!" Cisco exclaimed again.

"I am trying my best here!" the woman snapped.

"We know," Caitlin agreed, "But if you get them out of that coma, it'll be a lot easier to take Datura and Poison Ivy down."

Nina stopped flying all of a sudden and whirled around. Another vine was coming for her so she twirled in the air and forced the vine in a different direction. She then created a miniature cyclone that she released straight for Poison Ivy. The ginger hadn't been expecting that for sure.

There was a clear satisfaction in Nina's face when she heard Poison Ivy's garbled screams. She flew back towards Belén and Barry and landed between their beds. "I have no idea what to do here. Do I just pull the wires off their faces or…?"

"Yes!" went both Cisco and Caitlin.

With a shrug, Nina yanked the wires off Belén's face first. As soon as they were off her skin, Belén awoke with a sharp gasp. She sat upright on instinct with wide, blinking eyes.

"Barry!" she cried horrifically.

"You're fine!" Nina put her hands on Belén's shoulders. "Belén, listen, you're fine! It wasn't real!"

Belén breathed heavily as reality set around her. "I was - I was…" she couldn't even come up with the right words to describe the horrific events she experienced.

"You're good," Nina offered her a smile. "Datura put you in a dream world where she controlled everything."

"Barry died…" Belén swallowed hard, almost crying there and then.

"But he didn't!" Nina moved aside and showed her that Barry was safe (in what fit anyways) and lying next to them. "He's right here. He's in a dream world too."

"Barry!" Belén bolted from her bed, ignoring the fact or feet were a little wobbly, and rushed up to Barry's side. Her eyes looked over the wires attached to his face and without hesitation she ripped them right off.

Like her, Barry woke up gasping and sat upright with the same horrific face. "Belén!" he screamed but Belén grabbed his face and turned his head to her.

"I'm here! It's me!"

Barry quickly looked her over and since he saw her back in her suit and it with no blood on her, he knew this had to be the real world. "Oh my God," he pulled her into a tight hug. "You died…"

"So did you," she choked the words out. She couldn't possibly hug him tighter and yet she needed to be closer to him. "You died saving me and I - I couldn't save you. I-I didn't have my powers and I…"

"I know," Barry kissed her head. "I didn't have my powers either."

"Sounds like Datura put you through hell," Nina's voice drew them apart for a moment. "Might I suggest a little revenge?" She made a gesture to the scene in front of them.

Datura was firing at Black Orchid with silver laser beams.

Belén didn't need to be asked twice. For once, she didn't care about the logics. She only wanted pain. Her skin started turning green and scaley, quicker than it ever had before.

"Datura," She darkly muttered and marched forwards.

"This might not be the best way to fight…" Barry trailed off when he knew Belén wouldn't stop to think about it. If she had gone through something similar to what he had, there was no way in hell she would stop until Datura was down.

Black Orchid's feet we're scraping against the cement as she was being forced back with the beams being shot at her. She didn't know she was about to have backup from the person she was meant to be saving. Belén swing a vine like a lasso and smacked it against Datura's side. Before the Earth 2 metahuman could realize what hit her, Belén struck down another vine that hit Datura right on her face. Needless to say it left several deep, open wounds.

Poison Ivy had finally detangled herself from the cyclone the Tempest sent her way and caught sight of what the Azalea had done to her partner. Just as she was about to run towards them, the Flash zipped up in front of her.

"I don't think so," he shook his head at her.

Poison Ivy's lips curled into a snarl. This plan was about to blow up in their face and of course Datura wouldn't see it because of her rage. She needed to get them out of there now.

Belén had jumped on Datura and punched her consecutively. "You made me think he was dead! I couldn't save him and it was all just some game to you!?"

Datura grabbed Belén's arms and butted heads with her. When Belén hit the ground, Datura paid her with the same coin and jumped on her to punch her. "It was my own personal nightmare just for you! Because I want you to know that I am in control of your life. And that your life...it's going to shatter into pieces like mine did. Only yours will end with your death."

"Get off of her!" Black Orchid kicked Datura's in the face and sent the meta back.

Soon as Poison Ivy meant to act, Barry did too. He swung an arm to stop her but she ducked. She retaliated by sliding a leg underneath and knocking him down. From above, Nina delivered new air blasts. While Poison Ivy struggled to stay on her feet, Barry got back up and started running in a circle as fast as he could.

Poison Ivy knew exactly what that meant. "Datura, we gotta get out of here!"

"No!" her partner screamed. She was facing off Belén and Shivhan with everything she had. Red energy just narrowly missed Shivhan's arm. Electric bolts could have almost fried Belén's left leg.

Belén did her best to keep up her front. She threw her own Chloroplasts, though without the sucking-energy part since she didn't yet own that ability. One of them did catch Datura's leg and it angered her. More fiercely than ever Datura's eyes glowed an orange hue before releasing lasers. Black Orchid swooped in front of Belén and raised tendrils of magenta vines as a shield for them both.

"Datura, LET'S GO!" Poison Ivy furiously shouted. She could see the paleness in her partner's face even from where she was. Datura was over exerting herself all over again. "We need -" her scream echoed in the room when Barry's thunder bolt struck her square in the chest. Her body crashed against the wall, falling over.

Datura suspended her fight and saw where her partner had landed. "No!" The orange hue disappeared from her face. She dashed towards Poison Ivy and without glancing back at the group, Datura vanished with her altogether with an electronic zap.

~0~

Caitlin conducted thorough mental examinations for Belén and Barry the moment they got back. She wanted to be 110% sure that neither were in any harm thanks to Datura.

"It doesn't look like either of you have any residual energy from that machine you were strapped to," Caitlin was happy to report after two hours of exams.

There was a mutual relief amongst the metas as well as the rest of the group crowding their room.

"How'd this even happen to you?" Iris asked the two in question.

Belén exchanged a glance with Barry, neither seeming to sure of their timing. "I was just...I was outside, moping I guess, when I saw this hue of energy at a distance," Belén explained first. "I thought it was Datura so I followed it and it brought me downtown where sure enough she was there. I fought her until she told me she had Barry."

"So you just let her take you?" Barry frowned at her. "Belén-"

She raised her hand to stop whatever he was going to say. "I figured she'd wake me up when we were at her lair or something and then we could escape together."

"But she didn't," Veronica spat. Out of the entire group, she was the only one who looked mad.

"Mom—"

"What are you going to tell me, Belén!? Look at yourself!" Veronica made a gesture at Belén's current appearance.

She had a few bruises on her face, as well as the imprint of the electrodes that had been stuck to her face. There was a cut on her lower lip, but to be honest...Belén felt physically fine. Her mentality, however, was another story.

"You need to stop all this nonsense before you get yourself killed!"

Barry gulped when he remembered his personal nightmare.

"Are you kidding me?" Belén hopped off the bed to face her mother. "Today more than ever proved I need to stop Datura. If I don't fight her, she'll come after anyone and do anything she can to hurt them. She's a danger—"

"That is going to get you KILLED!" Veronica frantically shouted with her entire body practically shaking. For a moment, the others sympathized with her (especially Joe). "Don't you see that!? She could have killed you today, Belén! You were at her mercy! You don't always get lucky Annah-Belén!" She looked around to see if anyone would back her up, or even if Belén would give in.

But she didn't. Belén just gave a small shake of her head.

"Fine," Veronica whispered. "But I will not be here to watch you get yourself killed." She stormed out of the room and the cortex altogether, just barely avoiding Shivhan coming the opposite way.

"You know," Joe spoke up after a few seconds, "Not to side with her, but...I see what she means as a parent."

"I know," Belén sighed, but he shook his head at her.

"No, you don't. None of you do because you're not parents. It's hard watching you-" Joe pointed at Barry, "-go out there, not knowing if you'll come back. I haven't had the misfortune of losing you or Iris, so I can't imagine what Veronica must feel knowing that she lost two of her kids to this metahuman world."

"I'm not saying she's wrong," Belén folded her arms, "But it's not like I'm going to listen to her and stay away. She needs to understand it's my choice and right now, I'm choosing to fight Datura."

"Not today you're not," Cisco pointed at her and even Barry. "You two need to get some rest because those nightmares could not have been easy. Now I've already put a new tracker for your suit Bells but you can take it easy."

"What if she comes back?" Shivhan spoke up for the first time since she joined the group.

"They won't," Barry assured her. "They're back on Earth 2."

"How'd this disappear?" Shivhan then asked when she remembered the odd electronic zap she'd witnessed.

"I think it's a gadget or something..."

"A dimension-teleporter," Harry corrected. "On my world, there's a meta who can...cross dimensions. Reverb. It's well known that he and Datura are pretty...close. He must have created the device and fused his powers with it."

"Well, that's lovely. Give the siphoner the ability to cross dimensions too," Iris sourly said. "It's not like she's deceiving, intelligent, powerful..."

Belén scoffed. "Where is the fairness in that? Do you know how hard it is to fight her? It's like every time I have her, she's one step ahead of me. Whatever I throw at her, she expects it. I don't know how she does that."

"And she's very good at creating nightmares," Barry hated to admit. "She got every aspect of our world right. Like...how would she know that I worked at my lab? That Belén's favorite color is pink because it's from Azaleas. The only thing she got wrong was that Belén is not a crazy sleeper and that she works as a reporter, not a botany scientist."

"Of course," Belén agreed with a small frown. "I barely move when I sleep and I don't know the first thing about botany science."

Something in Harry's mind started working as he thought about these small details no one was probably paying attention to.

"But you're kind of right," Belén said a moment after thinking of her own world. "She got you working at your lab, the Barry from my world knew I liked planting Azaleas in our yard."

Something snapped inside Harry's brain. 'It's like every time I have her, she's one step ahead of me.' He turned away from the group, his feet moving slowly in the beginning. 'Whatever I throw at her, she expects it.' His feet picked up his pace and before he knew it, he was leaving STAR Labs.

~ 0 ~

"Thanks for coming to help," Belén stood in front of Shivhan. The cortex was empty now except for them two. Before leaving, Cisco and Caitlin had informed Belén what led Shivhan to decide to help them. Belén felt like an apology was very much due here.

Shivhan had neatly folded her new suit and left it on top of the desk. "Yeah, well, I was chipped so..."

"You weren't," Belén awkwardly smiled at her. "It was just a lie so you would help us. Sorry about that. And...I'm sorry for kidnapping you. I was a bit desperate."

"And now I know why," Shivhan sighed. "I heard the stories about this Datura. I actually read your articles about her before any of this. I thought if I kept myself hidden, she wouldn't hurt me. But then there were robberies here and there, and people getting hurt...I couldn't stay away. One month was actually my longest hiding period."

"I'm sorry," Belén shook her head. "I swear I will make her go away so you and everyone else can feel safe again."

"Yeah," Shivhan nodded, "And I'm going to help you however I can. Starting with the Green."

Belén blinked. "What?"

Shivhan smiled, borderlining a smirk. "That bitch Datura is so confident I wanna wipe that smugness right off her masked face."

A small smile spread across Belén's face. "Really? Even after I kidnapped you?"

"Bold move. Kinda like you better for it."

"Oh my God, thank you!" Belén hugged her excitedly, though the bouncing was not something Shivhan was there for. She was a bit taller than Belén so it felt like she was hugging a child.

"Yeah...okay," Shivhan detached herself from Belén. "I'm not into hugs that much. So if I'm staying...does that mean Cisco will make my new suit better?" Belén nodded. "Awesome!"

"Bells?" Barry came into the cortex, though slowly in case the two women weren't finishing talking.

"I guess I will see you tomorrow to start training," Shivhan pointed at Belén then swiped her suit off the desk, keeping it nicely tucked between her arms.

"Wait, what?" Barry's clueless expression followed her as she walked towards the corridor. "You're staying?"

"Yup! See you tomorrow, new buddies!" she winked at them then disappeared.

"Something tells me she's going to be an interesting one," Belén said after a moment's thought.

Barry smiled at her, happy to see she was finally going to get the help she wanted. "You want to go home, then?"

"Yeah..." Belén sighed and glanced back at her suit on display. "It's not like she'll be showing up anytime soon. She got quite her game today. I can't believe we fell for her trap. How did she draw you in, though?"

"She had your suit's tracker, making us think you were there at the warehouse. I went to look for you there and instead I got Poison Ivy," Barry scowled. He still couldn't believe he hadn't seen the ginger coming for him.

"...what was your world like?" Belén asked after a moment. She side-glanced him with an expression indicating he didn't have to share if he didn't want to.

But instead, Barry agreed to answer once they were safe at home in the comfort of each other. He took them to her apartment where they found a spot on the couch. There they told each other what Datura had forced them to dream of; how their perfect worlds turned into nightmares with each other's deaths.

"I didn't have powers so I couldn't save you," Barry held Belén close when he remembered the bullets and the blood from her dream's counterpart. "And then you were gone...with the baby."

Belén snuggled to his chest. "Our baby? I'm sorry she made that happen." She felt her face warm up just thinking about the fact her other self had been 'pregnant' with their child. Of course, it was the same thing when she told Barry about her world where they were just a week from being married.

"I'm sorry she made your nightmare happen," Barry kissed the top of her head. "But you know that I would save you no matter what."

"Your death wouldn't be saving me, idiot," she looked up at him. "So don't you ever get that idea in your head. We either survive together or we die together. That's it."

Her hands found his face and as she stroked soft circles on his skin, they rested foreheads with each other. Eventually, they kissed. And because of the terror they lived, there was a lot to kiss for. Neither would say it then, but their kisses had changed into something deeper. Perhaps it was because of what they'd seen and gone through, or maybe it was the fact they were aware of what the future could hold for them if they wanted it.

~ 0 ~

A breach whirled into existence on Earth 1, allowing Datura to cross over. Soon as she touched ground, she saw Harry standing across.

"First time you summon me," the metahuman folded her arms. "Can I expect Belén's body behind you?"

"I know who you are," Harry went straight for the point. He'd been thinking this over for a few hours now and he couldn't be more sure of it. It all made sense. It was actually so stupid that he hadn't seen it from the very start.

Datura had a laugh. "Of course you do."

"I do," Harry reiterated with a sharpness that silenced Datura. He started taking slow steps towards her while he explained his conclusion. "It's been staring us right in the face and we missed it. I missed it," he put a hand on his chest, exhibiting true offence with himself that he had been so clueless. "Belén's been saying it over and over. You're always one step ahead of her, one step ahead of Barry. You're evenly matched against Belén. Every punch she throws, you expect it and have one better. Even from the very start. You knew who the Azalea was. You knew who the Flash was. You knew all these details about Belén, like what her favorite color was. It wasn't because you did your research. You just knew. And how would you know them? How could you always be one step ahead of Belén?" Harry stopped right in front of Datura, looking her (for the first time since he had the misfortune of meeting her) directly in her dark, chocolate brown eyes. Despite her position, Datura's red lips were quirking into a smirk. Harry remained emotionless, yet still confident he knew what was going on. "You know everything because you are Belén."

The smirk on Datura turned into outright smugness. She brought one of her gloved hands to her mask and carefully pulled it off her face. "Took you long enough." Earth 2 Belén Palayta looked exactly the same as her Earth 1 doppelganger, only she owned a darkness no other doppelganger could match.

Author's Note:

BAM. I've been waiting to reveal that one ever since Datura was first introduced! I originally had it planned to be revealed earlier but I felt like it fit better here. So, did anyone see that coming? It's literally foreshadowed in the story cover page. Hope y'all paid attention to it!

And a lovely little fun fact here: one of the girl names dream-Belén listed is the actual name I'm giving to hers and Barry's daughter in a for their season 5 rewrite. Can you guess which one it was??

#ocappreciation #arrowverseocs #fd: the flash #the flash #barry allen #the flash imagines #barry allen imagines #barry allen fics #the flash fics #oc: Belén Palayta #oc: Belen Palayta #oc: the azalea #fic: rise up

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general-kenobi357 · 3 years

Text

Someday Soon-Chapter 4

Pairing: JJ Maybank x Fem!OC

Summary: Secrets start to create more tension within the Pogues, even more so when Kooks start to get involved.

Word Count: 3.1k

🔅🔆🔅

There's a moment in every kid's life when you feel like anything's possible. When you feel like you've got the total mojo. You could, I don't know, free-climb El Capitan, land on Mars, or, uh... get elected president. The whole world's there for the taking if you've got the sack to go for it.

And then, when you least expect it, some Kook shows up and tells you there's no eternal mystery. And then all that talk about free-climbing and Mars and the president... bullshit.

Magic gets cancer and dies.

“It's not there. Look, just... just pull the drone up.” John B instructed Pope. We had searched all over the ocean floor and found nothing but the figure head that used to stand at the bow of the ship.

“Shit.” I muttered, the storm was picking up as the thunder grew louder and the lightning closer to where we were, I entered the cabin where JJ was still trying to hold the boat steady. We hadn’t spoken more than five words to each other since him and Pope had picked me up the day before, I figured it was time. “You need any help?”

“Nah, but if you have 400 mil lying around, I’d be happy to take it off your hands.” He joked, bringing a smile to my face before a comfortable silence fell over us and we continued to listen to the rest of the Pogues outside.

“Look, we can do another pass. Recharge the battery.” Pope suggested. “We can... we can go back down.”

“We've done it three times. There's nothing there.” JJ spoke up competing with the loud wind.

“Shut up! The gold could be buried. We don't know.” Kie reasoned, still hopeful.

“If it was there, it would've been found on the metal detector, okay? Somebody beat us to it.” John B told her.

“Or it was never there.” I mumbled. The more we searched the more the stories started to sound impossible.

With the thunder rumbling we all pitched in to bring in the drone before JJ drove us back to the dock.

🔅🔆🔅

After we got back onto dry land the group all parted ways, promising to see each other later on that evening.

Once I got back to my house I changed into some dry clothes before making my way into the main room to see my mom sitting on the couch, I could hear Emmy in her room playing.

“Hey Hon.” My mom spoke up, setting down the book she was reading. “Where have you been all morning?”

“Oh we took Heyward’s boat out, trying to catch some fish. JJ’s cousin told him you can get spearfish out in the open water.”

“Did you catch anything?”

“No the storm picked up, we had to head back in.”

“Well that’s too bad. Maybe next time.”

“Yeah, maybe next time.” And even though my mom didn’t know what we had really been looking for, her words gave me a little hope, maybe we could still find something.

“Hey, are you and your friends going out later?” She asked after a few minutes.

“Um, I don’t know. Kie was talking about taking us to an outdoor movie over on Figure Eight.”

“Oh you used to love those as a kid, do you think they would be okay if Emmy tagged along?”

“I can ask. Kie was going to pick us all up in a little bit.”

“Thank you. I just don’t want her to miss out on everything you got to do when we still lived over there.”

“I know.” I replied with a smile. Ever since we had moved to the cut and Emmy was born, she had been trying to give us everything she possibly could.

🔅🔆🔅

A few hours later I was in my room when I heard a horn outside. Quickly I got up grabbing the bag I had packed before going to find Emmy. She had moved to the porch as the day progressed and the house got hotter.

“Em, you ready to go?” I asked her.

“Yep!” She said standing up. “Wait I have to go say bye to Mommy.”

I watched her run back into the house, before I followed behind her.

“Have fun you two.” Mom told us as she pulled Emmy into a hug. “Don’t forget bug spray, and not too many candies alright?”

“Okay Mommy.” Emmy said nodding her head.

“Here.” Mom said standing up and passing me a couple of bills. “It should be enough for tickets and a treat for each of you.”

“Thank you.” I told her, folding the bills to fit in my pocket. I knew it wasn’t enough for all that, but it would be enough for tickets and I had some tip money from yesterday to buy Emmy a treat.

“Have fun you two!” She called as we went to meet Kie who was waiting by the road.

“Hey.” I greeted as we approached her car. “Is it alright if Emmy tags along.”

“Yeah of course.” Kie said smiling, I had a sneaking suspicion that my friends might have preferred her to me most days.

“Okay Em, get in the back.” I instructed opening the door for her. “Are we picking up the boys?” I asked.

“Yeah they're our next stop.” Kie told me from the front.

“You gotta sit in the middle seat.” I told Emmy, before buckling her seat belt.

“I don’t want to sit with the boys.” Emmy whined. “They smell bad.”

“They don’t smell bad.” I tried to defend the boys who weren't there to defend themselves, as I got into the front.

“Well…” Kie trailed off defending Emmy’s point. We all laughed as she pulled out of our driveway and down the road to JJ’s house.

As we pulled up, the two boys were waiting by the curb for us, Pope looked scared while JJ looked as if he were preparing for something. They greeted us all as they climbed into the backseat and before long we were en route to Figure Eight.

“Are you guys sure you want to go to this thing?” Pope asked about halfway into the drive.

“What?” I asked turning to look at him. “You love these movies.”

“Well maybe we’re just not feeling it today.” JJ defended Pope’s statement.

“What is up with you two?” I asked, I couldn’t help but wonder if it had to do with whatever had happened yesterday.

“Yeah, what is up with you two?” Em asked, parroting what I had just said. It was one of her current favorite things to do, after she heard me taunting John B the same way a couple months ago.

Her comment was enough to break the tension that had been building in the car, as it brought a smile to all our faces.

“Don’t worry Princess, we’re just bein’ weirdos.” JJ told Emmy, using the nickname he had started using a while ago when she had joined us all for a boat ride and declared herself the Princess of the water.

🔅🔆🔅

“I'm so glad that they're still doing this.” Kie told us as we gathered all the stuff we had brought from her trunk. “Keep calm. Carry on. Back to OBX life. You know? Aren't you glad I made you come?”

“Ecstatic.” Pope replied in a monotone voice.

“My couch was pretty comfy, I'll be honest.” JJ added.

“Okay, Em? I’m gonna go with Kie to get your treat okay? What do you want?” I asked, setting down my bag.

“Um…” She thought, putting a hand on the side of her head. “Popcorn!”

“Okay.” I replied with a smile, moving to where Kie was waiting. “JJ can help you put out your blanket okay?” I told her before I turned to look at JJ, he gave me a thumbs up as I began to follow Kie to the concession.

“Hey, uh... can I get two Pepsis, please? Oh and a popcorn?” Kie asked the guy behind the counter.

“Oh I can buy Emmy’s food.” I told her, feeling a little guilty.

“No, don’t worry about it, did you want anything?” She asked, pushing away my hand which held a few bills.

“No, I’m good thanks.” I replied, as we waited for our order.

“Hey, Kie.” I heard Rafe Cameron call out from behind us.

“Hey.” Kie responded uncomfortably.

“What's up? How are you?” He asked, it seemed like he only noticed her. But it didn’t surprise me, I was generally looked at as the help.

“I'm fine.”

“Good, good. Um… Tell your boy that we know what he did.”

“Sorry, what boy are you talking about?” I finally asked.

“Uh, he'll know.” He told us. “Bye.”

“Douche.” Kie muttered as Rafe walked away. “What was that about?”

“I have no idea.” I told her truthfully as we made our way back over to the boys and Emmy. “Nobody will tell me anything.”

“Just saw Rafe, and he said, and I quote, <Tell your boy that we know what he did.> What is that?” Kie asked as I sat down between Emmy and JJ, handing her the bag of popcorn.

“Um… Where is he?” JJ asked nervously looking around.

“Right there.” I told him pointing behind us as we all turned.

“Great, the whole death squad.” Pope muttered.

“Don't stare, bro.” JJ warned turning around. “If they corner me, I'm coming out swinging, okay? Slice and dicin'. I'm on edge right now.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Pope confirmed, with every word they exchanged I was more confused.

“If that doesn't work, I got this right here.” JJ reassured Pope pointing to his bag, I was no longer confused, now I was just pissed of knowing exactly what he was referring to. How could he be that dumb.

“Yeah, yeah. So, we just gotta stay in the group. They can't get us in the group. Like a school of fish. Stay in the school. Can't leave the school.” Pope started rambling.

“I'm sorry, stay in school? Please tell me that you did not bring a gun here.” Kie asked, looking at the pair.

“JJ, there are kids. Emmy is here.” I reminded him.

“Sweetheart, I didn't bring the gun. Everything's fine, okay?” He told me with an unconvincing smile.

“Wow, thank you. That's really convincing. I love that, JJ.” I said, knowing he was lying.

“Founding principle, you guys. No secrets amongst Pogues.” Kie reminded them, which made me laugh bitterly. I was pretty sure everything Pope and JJ had said to me since yesterday had been lies. “What is Rafe talking about?”

“Kie, it might go down tonight.” Pope told her.

“What does that mean?” I asked.

“<Might go down tonight.> What did y'all do?” Kie demanded.

“Deny, deny, deny.” I heard JJ mutter to Pope. Shaking my head at Kie before I turned to look at Emmy, who sat blissfully unaware as she enjoyed her popcorn.

🔅🔆🔅

About halfway into the movie I heard the boys whispering to each other. Before they both stood up.

“Hey, where are y'all going?” Kie asked as they began to walk away.

“We gotta wring it out.” JJ responded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“You gonna hold it for each other?” She criticized them as they left.

The pair had been gone for a few minutes when out of the corner of my eye I saw three Kooks head in the same direction JJ and Pope had gone. Glancing at Emmy to make sure she stayed put I shuffled closer to Kie.

“I think somethings wrong.” I whispered in her ear. “Three Kooks just headed off to where JJ and Pope went.”

“They’ll be fine, they have the gun, Rafe wouldn’t try anything here.”

“The gun is still in JJ’s bag.” I informed Kie, holding up his backpack.

“Shit.” She muttered, taking the bag from my grasp. “You stay with Emmy I’ll go make sure they get this.”

I moved back beside Emmy as I watched Kie walk away.

“Where is everyone going?” Emmy asked, curiously.

“Nowhere don’t worry, just watch the movie.” I told her, unable to take my own advice.

A few more minutes past as I sat thinking the worst had happened to my friends, until suddenly the bottom of the screen lit up on fire. The crowd began to scatter as more of the screen was engulfed in flames.

“Fuck.” I muttered under my breath, trying to decide what to do. “Okay come here.” I told Emmy picking her up, I knew I couldn’t leave her here alone but I wasn’t sure what I was about to walk into. “Close your eyes okay? Don’t open them until I say so.” I told her as I walked over to where I had seen all my friends go.

As I walked around behind the movie screen which had now been reduced to ashes, I could see Rafe and his goons running off and in front of me Pope, Kie and JJ were all laying on the grass. But I could see them all moving.

“Oh, thank you.” I mumbled, not entirely sure who I was thanking. Pope and Kie were sitting beside each other so I made my way over to JJ with Emmy still in my arms. With my free hand I helped him before pulling him into a hug.

“You’re squishing me!” Emmy called out from between us.

“Sorry Em.” I apologized, letting go of JJ and setting her down. “It’s okay, you can open your eyes.” I told her noticing that her eyes were still squeezed shut.

“Are you okay JJ?” Emmy asked, her voice quiet.

“Of course I am Princess.” He reassured her, scoping her up. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Izzie was swearing and I was worried when you and Pope left.” Emmy explained, ratting me out in the process.

“Iz, swearing in front of the Princess?” JJ asked, feigning a look of shock before he went back to talking to Emmy. “Come on let’s go get your stuff.”

I let out a sigh of relief before I followed the group back to where all of our stuff had been left. As I packed up my bag I heard JJ explaining to Emmy that it was all just a game that they were playing and that she didn’t have to worry about any of it. All I could do was hope she wouldn’t tell my Mom.

🔅🔆🔅

After dropping off the boys, Kie drove me and Emmy home. The drive was silent partially due to the fact that Emmy was passed out in the back seat and partially due to the fact that neither of us wanted to talk about what had just happened.

Once we had arrived I grabbed my bag before getting Emmy from the back seat. Kie unrolled the window to wave goodbye to me.

“Thank you.” I said to Kie with a smile. “For everything.”

“Of course, I’ll see you tomorrow.” She replied, waving as I made my way to the front door.

It wasn’t until I had closed the door behind me that I heard the tires of Kie’s car drive off. My Mom was sitting in the kitchen with a cup of tea reading by a candle when we got inside. I quickly went and put Emmy into her bed before I joined her.

“You two are home earlier than I thought, wasn’t it a double feature?” She asked me.

“Yeah, um some kids messed with the screen and they couldn’t play the second movie.” I explained, pulling her into a tight hug.

“You okay?” She asked concern laced through her words.

“Yeah I just missed you.” I said, pulling away.

“Okay.” She said not sounding entirely convinced.

“Goodnight.” I said before I walked out of the kitchen and into my room.

“Goodnight!” She called as I closed my door.

🔅🔆🔅

The next day the Pogues-minus John B, who no one had heard from-were gathered at Heyward’s discussing the events of last night.

“Don't let it get in your head. Three of them and two of us.” JJ reassured Pope, who was still on edge. “That's typical Kook shit right there.”

“Hey, Pope, someone here to see you.” Heyward interrupted, Deputy Shoupe trailing behind him.

“Evening, Officer.” Pope said, suddenly seeming even more on edge than before.

“I have an arrest warrant for felony destruction of property.” Shoupe told him blatantly. “Hands where I can see 'em.” He instructed beginning to cuff Pope. “Young lady, out of my way.” He said pushing past Kie as we all followed him outside.

“Whoa. Shoupe, what'd he do?” Heyward said, confused.

“Look at the warrant.”

“You're arresting him? You're just arresting my boy?”

“Be careful!” Kie shouted as Shoupe continued to read Pope his rights.

All of our voices seemed to mix together as I tried to figure out what was going on.

“It wasn't him!” JJ yelled over all of us, everyone else fell silent. “It was me. He tried to talk me out of it, but I was mad because he'd just been beaten up. I was so sick of those assholes from Figure Eight that I lost my shit. I can't let you take the blame for somethin' I did. You've got too much to lose.”

“JJ, what are you doing?” Pope asked and all of the sudden I realized what was going on and what they had been keeping from me.

“I'm tellin' the truth.” JJ explained, he was staring at me as if he wanted to say something more. “For once in my goddamn life, I'm gonna tell the truth. I took his old man's boat, too.”

“JJ, come on.” Pope tried to stop him.

“Just shut up, Pope!” JJ shouted. “Just shut up. He's a good kid. You know where I'm from.”

“Yeah.” Shoupe agreed.

“This was all me.”

“That's the whole truth?”

“Whole truth, swear to God.”

“I know what you think, damn it, I'm asking Pope.”

“Yeah, that about covers it.” Pope stated, as JJ nodded at him.

Shoupe sighed before uncuffing Pope and putting JJ into his car. I could hear Pope cursing from behind me as Kie and Heyward tried to calm him down. But all I could do was watch as the cop car drove off leaving me standing in the street, tears streaming down my face. Realizing I hadn’t even said goodbye.

🔅🔆🔅

#outerbanks #outer banks #jj maybank #jj obx #obx #jj x oc #jj maybank x oc #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader

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lethal-k · 4 years

Text

Mi Corazón (JHS)

Hey all! Amanda here! I think I’m in love with this couple. I usually try not to define my character’s race, ethnicity, or nationality, but I really wanted to base this imagine loosely on my family’s old block parties. Plus, the lack of Hispanic representation within American literature is crazy, but it’s getting better as each day goes by! I just wanted to contribute to that! If you’re interested in me making imagines based on other cultures or anything, feel free to request it, just know that it may not be as rooted as this one, simply because this is my own heritage and I will have to do a lot of research on other cultures before diving in. Anyway, I also wanted an excuse to write an imagine where one of the members has to dance to Latin music because Latin music is so romantic. Hobi just seemed to fit the theme I was going for. Anyway, if you like this imagine please heart it, reblog it, and follow me! I love y’all, stay safe, and borahae <3

Genre: established relationship! au, fluff

Pairing: Hoseok x reader

Word Count: 4.3K

Warnings: swearing, google-translated Spanish, pining and simping, mentions of cartels and gangs, small mentions of immigration, literally one of the most endearing couples I have ever written.

Summary: Y/n takes Hobi to meet her family at one of their famous Miami block parties.

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“What if they don’t accept me..” Hobi mutters while you guys search for a parking spot on the street.

You glance at him, “What do you mean? What is there to not like about you?” You flash him a smile before returning your attention to the street, “This is ridiculous, I’m literally their child, I should get VIP parking for God’s sake.” you mutter while shaking your head.

Hoseok chuckles at you, “There’s one,” He points out a spot and you quickly start parking in between the two cars. He sort of deflates in his passenger seat while looking at the street lined with cars and the house that bustled with life. “What if they don’t accept me because I’m Korean? What if they think I’m not good enough for you because I can’t speak Spanish or dance well like you? What if they think my career is too much and that I won’t be able to take care of you?” He expresses his worries out loud.

You put the car in park before turning to face him in the seat. Leaning towards him, you grab his chin in your hand and squish his cheeks together. “Don’t worry, mi amor. My family moved into the U.S. from Mexico so they know what it feels like to not fully know a language while surrounded by English-speakers. They won’t judge you.”

“Bu-” he tried to cut in.

“Shh,” you shush him and put your finger on his lips, “I taught you different latin dance styles last week and you caught on super quickly. You’re making an effort to learn my language and they already know I can damn well take care of my own self but if they mention anything negative about your career then I will step in and tell them off. Okay? Stop worrying, they will love you.” He sighed and nodded, looking a little nervous. “Good, now let us go.” You give him a quick peck before getting out of the car.

Your parents had moved into the U.S. from the dangerous city of Culiacán, Sinaloa in Mexico in 1992. Six years before you were born. They had moved due to the dangers of the infamous Sinaloa cartel. They decided, instead, to settle down in Miami, Florida. Where they had you, your little brother, and your baby brother and sister. The youngest two are twins. You are their oldest child, now at age 22. Your little brother, Pedro, is now 19 and the twins, Miguel and Rosalína, are both 15. All of you grew up in the house that you and your boyfriend of 11 months are walking up to now.

Two years ago, you had moved to Seoul, Korea in hopes of reaching your dream to become a fashion designer. You chose South Korea because, well c’mon, Korean fashion is to die for. It also was not as cliche as New York, California, or Paris. A year and some months into living in Seoul, you met Hobi. Of course you knew who he was, but you treated him as any individual, which he took a liking to. Fast forward another month or two and you two started dating and now you are here, walking on your childhood street, up to your childhood home, about to meet your family and childhood friends. Yeah, you could say today was pretty special.

You two were walking up when all of a sudden a young woman who seemed to be the same age popped up in front of you both. “Y/n!!” She squealed.

Your smile grew wide and you pulled the girl into a bone-crushing hug, “Ay, Carlita! Cómo has estado?”

“Bien, bien.” She smiled back before glancing at your boyfriend, “Who is this?”

You looked next to you and saw Hobi standing there, hands behind his back, and a shy smile on his face. You held out your hand towards him and he quickly took it, “Carlita, this is my boyfriend, Hoseok. Hobi, this is my childhood best friend, Carlita.”

She smiled warmly before holding out her hand which he shook, “Hello there! It’s nice to finally meet the mysterious boyfriend.”

Hobi chuckled and nodded at her, “It’s nice to meet you too.” His accent came out a bit and you smiled at his shy behavior.

“Would you happen to know where everyone else is?” You asked, sort of wanting to get introductions done and over with so you can party with your boyfriend and family.

She shrugged, “I know that Pedro is playing video games with the boys in his room, I have no idea where everyone else is at.”

You sighed and shook your head while smirking, “That boy and his video games.”

Carlita giggled at you before walking off, “Well welcome back home and it was nice to meet you, Hoseok! Maybe we can catch up more later but right now I have to stop Tío Edgardo from skateboarding. Old man claims that he is trying to regain his youth.” she rolls her eyes.

You laughed at her and nodded.

“She seems nice.” Hobi commented in Korean.

You smiled at him before grabbing his hand, “C’mon, let's go meet my little brother.”

The two of you walked throughout your home before coming to a door in the hallway. You open it without knocking and low and behold, there is Pedro and a couple of friends playing Mario Kart. From the looks of it, your brother is losing terribly.

“Pedroo.” You sing out his name in hopes of getting his attention.

“What is it?” He asks, not looking up from the screen. You scoff at his reaction.

“What? No, ‘hello sister’, ‘how are you sister’, ‘who is that man with you sister’” You tease.

He shrugs, “Dude. Mario Kart. Priorities.”

Your jaw drops and Hobi starts laughing hysterically. “This is what I get after saving your ass from mom and dad for years. The complete and utter disrespect.” You say, mocking offense with your hand on your heart.

He smirks at your comment but his eyes remain glued to the screen, “Yeah yeah whatever. I’ll talk to you later outside, close the door on your way out.”

You shake your head, “I’ll hold you to that!” You yell as you close the door.

Hobi looks at you with a raised eyebrow and the same smirk that Pedro wore, “Have you two always been like that?”

You nodded and giggled, “Yeah, pretty much.” He shook his head at you and wrapped his arms around your waist, walking behind you back into the main area of the house.

The two of you passed a couple of neighbors, all of them who greeted both of you with open arms and hands full of alcohol. You lead him through the kitchen, not glancing at your surroundings. You are about to walk to the backyard before you hear a familiar voice.

“Ah, mi hija, si sales por esa puerta sin saludar, no dudaré en conseguir mi chancleta.” (Ah, my daughter, if you walk out that door without saying hello, I won’t hesitate to get my flip flop.) You freeze at the sound of your mother’s voice and turn around to find her staring at you with a pointed look. You smile sheepishly and shrug your shoulders before waving at her.

“Hi, mama.” The look she was giving you faded off her face and transformed into a smile. You walked over to her and gave her a hug. She pulled you in, wrapping her arms around you tighter. You sighed in content, realizing how much you missed her and your home. The picture of her in the kitchen, glaring at you, and threatening you with her flip flop put you on a nostalgia trip. Although you wouldn’t trade your life right now for the world - a beautiful penthouse apartment with your boyfriend in the middle of South Korea’s capital - you did find yourself missing the smell of huevos con carne and chorizo that drifted throughout your home. You found yourself missing the melodic voice of Romeo Santos on Sunday mornings that indicated it was time to wake up and start cleaning. You found yourself missing the company of your siblings and the embrace of your parents. But as said before, you are currently living a wonderful life in Seoul, with your career progressing fast and the man of your dreams right beside you.

“I’ve missed you, you barely call anymore.” She scolds you while simultaneously pulling you into her even more.

You nuzzle your face into her shoulder, “I’ve missed you too, mama. I promise to try calling more often.”

You pulled away to smile at her, only to find her checking out your boyfriend from head to toe. “Ay, hija. ¿Quién es ese buen pedazo de culo que trajiste?” (Who is that fine piece of ass you brought with you?)

Your eyes widened and you lightly smacked her arm, “Mama!”

She giggled and looked at you, “What?” she complained.

You sighed and shook your head. You glanced over to Hobi to find him smiling warmly at you and your mom, despite not knowing what you two are saying.

“Mama, this is Hoseok. My boyfriend.” You said, putting emphasis on the word boyfriend.

He awkwardly smiled at her and waved, “Hello ma’am.”

She smiled warmly at him while walking over, pulling him into a hug. You laughed at Hobi’s shocked face and little ‘oof’ at the strength of her pull.

“Call me mama, ma’am makes me feel old.” Hobi smiled at her acceptance and hugged her back, looking to you for reassurance. You give him a quick thumbs up before she let him go and turned to you. “While the two of you are here, mind helping me carry out these dishes to the table outside?”

You scoffed, “I’ve been here for a matter of 10 minutes and you are already putting me to work like I’m 12 again.”

She smiled and shook her head, “It’s cause you always act like you’re 12, hija, now get let's make use of your boyfriend and his muscles and carry these enchiladas to the table.”

You laughed at her antics before translating to Hobi what his task was and putting the tray of food in his hands. You grabbed a plate of tortas and she grabbed the empanadas before you started heading out.

“Thank you, hija, Hobi. I will see you both later, I have to go yell at Pedro for hiding away in his room.” She walks off, shaking your head and you smile at her retreating figure.

“Your whole family seems nice so far.” He said, taking you into his arms and holding you. You giggled and pulled back slightly.

“They’ll be your family soon too, hopefully.” You whispered, giving him a quick peck on the lips.

He smiled and nodded, “And I cannot wait for the day that they do.”

You blushed at his confession before your eye catches two heads of hair that were identical by the pool. You smiled at Hobi and took his hand in yours, leading him towards the edge of the pool.

“Rosa! Miguel!” You exclaim and stand behind them. Rosalína looks up at you from behind her glasses and smiles.

“Hey sis!” You hug her from behind and she holds your arm. You pull away and look at Miguel expectantly, only to find that his eyes are somewhere else. You follow his gaze to a very familiar girl and smirk.

Rosa smacks him on the back of the head and he flinches, glaring at her. She nods her head towards you and Hobi and he looks at you two before smiling sheepishly. “Oh hey, Y/n..” You kept smirking at him and his face flushed red under your gaze.

“Still being a simp, I see.” You tease. He looks away, face turning 10 shades redder.

“Shut up.” He trailed off.

Hobi tapped your waist, pulling your attention to him. He tilted his head in confusion. “What joke am I missing?” He asked.

Rosa snorted. She turned her head towards Hobi, catching his attention. “You see that girl over there, with the blonde hair?” She said and pointed. He nodded slowly, following the direction and looking at the girl. “Her name is Lucy. Miguel here has been pining after her for like- 5 years. Since we were 10! Can you believe that? I say he should just grow some balls and tell her that he likes her.”

You laughed at her choice of words while Hobi smirked. Miguel shoved her side in embarrassment.

“I’m not pining,” he glared at her before glancing at you, “Nor am I simping.” He trailed off while looking at Lucy before glancing at Hobi, “She is just super pretty and totally out of my league.”

You smirked and looked at him, “Nah man, you’re totally simping.”

“Literally, shut up, Y/n.” He said, crossing his arms and pouting.

Hoseok smirked and laughed, “No, you should totally do it, kid. You only live once and the worst is that she’ll say no. But if she says yes…” He trailed off, leaving the rest to Miguel’s imagination.

Rosa high-fived Hobi, “Thank you! I’ve only been saying that for years! I’m Rosalína by the way, but you can call me Rosa. This idiot over here is Miguel.” She introduced herself.

Hoseok smiled at her, “I’m Hobi, Y/n’s boyfriend.”

“You’re in that one band, right? BTS?” she asked, tilting her head.

He nodded, “Yep, that’s me.”

“Nice,” She nodded, “I like your song Dope.”

He smiled, “Thank you.”

You watched the interaction with a big smile on your face. It seemed that your boyfriend was becoming more comfortable. And that couldn’t make you any happier.

You shook your head at your thoughts before looking towards your sister, “Hey Rosa, where is dad, anyway? I want to introduce him to Hobi.”

She rolled her eyes, “Where do you think?” She snorted and nodded her head towards the make-shift dance floor. A few people moved out of the way to reveal your father, Modelo in hand, dancing merengue to Suavemente.

Your eyes widened and you let out a laugh of embarrassment, “Oh. My. God.”

She shook her head before looking towards Hobi who wore amusement on his face. “That would be our father. He’s been like that for the past hour, I think that’s his 6th beer.”

You giggled at the ridiculous man that you called your father before grabbing Hobi’s wrist. “C’mon, let me introduce you to the ol’ man.”

Hobi’s face lost all color and looked uneasy. Rosa laughed as you two walked off, waving bye. You could tell your boyfriend was nervous, after all this was your dad. Your father. Keeper of your heart. The man who raised you. If he didn’t approve of Hobi then it would be devastating to the both of you.

“Wait-” he stopped you from going on, “What if he doesn’t like me? What if I’m not good enough for his daughter? Hold on, does my shirt look okay? What about my hair?” He panicked.

You decided to shut him up with a kiss straight on the lips. He froze for a second before relaxing into it and wrapping his arms around your waist. You giggled at him, “He will love you, Hobi. You look perfect.”

He nodded, still a little dazed from the kiss. You left him on the side of the dance floor and dodged dancing neighbors until you met your father in the middle.

“Suavemente! BESAME!” He shouted as you tapped his shoulder. You giggled as he turned around and looked at you in pure glee. “Mi princesa! How are you, mi corázon? Dance with me!” He exclaimed and grabbed your hands, pulling you into the dance with him.

You laughed and threw your head back. “I’m good, papa! I want to introduce you to someone!”

He nodded at you and grinned wolfishly, “Then lead the way, Princess.” He followed you off the dance floor and to Hobi.

“Papa, this is my boyfriend, Hoseok.” Hobi visibly gulped.

“Hello, sir.” He said, putting on a charming smile and holding out his hand.

Your father’s eyes narrowed, looking Hobi up and down, a poker face on. “Boyfriend, huh?”

Hoseok faltered for a second, “Yes, sir…” He said, using his other hand to scratch the back of his neck out of nerves.

Your dad suddenly smiled and took his hand, pulling him into a hug, “Well welcome to the family then! It’s nice to meet you!”

Hobi visibly relaxed into the hug, smiling at you with a big grin. All you could do is smile back, happy that he made a good impression on your dad.

Your father pulled back and squinted at Hobi, “You hurt my daughter and I’ll kill you.” He said, gruffly.

Hobi’s eyes widened, “N-never, sir.” He stuttered.

Your dad broke out into another smile again, “Good!” He clapped him on the back, “Here, let’s go have some drinks!” He led you two to the bar before leaving to go dance some more.

It was later that night, after more less-stressful introductions, multiple plates of food, and a few drinks that you and Hobi were sitting together at a table, watching the party and enjoying each other’s company. You were staring at your parents, who were in the middle of the dance floor. Corazón sin cara was playing as your parents swayed to the music, your father’s arms wrapped around your mother’s waist and her head leaning against his chest. You smiled softly at them with a look of fondness in your eyes.

“They seem to really love each other.” Hobi said, looking from you to your parents.

“They always have,” You said softly, laying your head on your arms and looking at them, “They’ve been through a lot together, a lot of trials and tribulations. When I was a little girl, I thought they were the purest definition and example of true love. They’ve always had each other, and I used to yearn for that as a teenager.” You explain.

Hobi smiles and puts his arm around you, “Well, my love, now you can think of us when you think of love. I want to give you everything, the world, and I want to have your back just like your dad has your mom’s.” He says, pushing your hair behind your ear.

You turn to him and smile, pulling him into a slow and passionate kiss.

“I love you so much.” You mumble against his lips.

He smiles against you, “I love you too, jagi.”

It’s when Obsesíon by Aventura comes on the speaker that you pull away with a gasp and wide eyes.

“What is it?” Hobi frowns, confused by your sudden behavior.

You giggle, “This is my song!” You get up and find Carlita before pulling her to the dance floor. Hobi smiles at you, and how your eyes shined with excitement. He watches you from afar, noting how natural you look among the people you grew up around. Although he may not know anyone and sticks out like a sore thumb, you are the complete opposite, blending in as if you had never moved away to begin with. He thinks that you have never looked so beautiful, than you do right now, at ease and having fun with your friends and family. He remembers how excited you were for him to meet all of them, going as far as to teach him some Spanish and give him some Latin dance lessons. You were so excited for this trip, and now that you both are here, Hobi doesn’t ever want to leave. Because you look so happy here, and all he wants is your happiness.

“You love her.” Hobi looked to his right to find your father, sitting down next to him with two beers in his hand. He said it more as a statement than a question.

Hobi glanced back at you, “Yes, sir. I do, very much.” He sighed out, watching the way your eyes lit up and your smile grew as you sang along with the song. He watched how you moved with ease to the melody with your best friend and he could only admire you and think of how lucky he is, to call you his.

“I could tell, you’re looking at her as if she’s your world right now.” Your dad smiled gently at Hoseok.

Hobi blushed a little and looked down before looking back up at him. “She is my world, sir. She’s helped me through a lot, and she supports my career and always is there if I need her. I only hope that I’m the same for her.”

Your dad gently laid his hand on Hobi’s shoulder, smiling at him. “You are. The look that’s on her face right now,” He nodded at you on the dance floor, laughing with Carlita, “I haven’t seen that look in a very long time. She was going through a lot when she left, and now I can see that she’s happy again. You make her happy, Hoseok. That’s all I could ever ask of you.”

Hoseok smiled at him, “Thank you, sir. That means a lot.” He looked back at you, smiling at you when you looked at him and winked. He blew a kiss to you before leaning back in the chair. “I’m not going to lie, I was nervous when she said that I would be meeting you all.”

Your dad chuckles at that, “Yeah, I could understand that,” he sighs, “I have always been the first man in her heart. I’m used to protecting her, to providing for her, to loving her. But now I’m not the sole man in her heart anymore, you are there too.” He says. Hobi looks at your father to find him staring back at him intensely. He looked him dead in the eye, “I believe you are a good man, Hoseok, and I fully give you my approval and welcome you into our family.”

Hobi’s face breaks into a wide grin, “I’ll cherish her for the rest of my lifetime, sir.”

The song changed to something more upbeat, and you were suddenly calling out to him, beckoning him over to dance.

“I have no doubt that you will, now go get your girl.” Your father clapped his back as Hobi stood up and made his way over to you.

You took his hand in yours and started moving along to Como la Flor.

“Baby, remember how I taught you cumbia? Well this is an iconic cumbia song!” You smiled. Hoseok squeezed your hand and started moving along with you, getting the movement and rhythm pretty quickly. He laughed at your tipsy state. But that didn’t matter, what mattered is that you were having fun, and that you were happy. And despite the alcohol effects, you still managed to dance like a professional. You giggled when Hobi spun you, and it was the most beautiful sound on this earth to him. The two of you were in your own world, dancing together and laughing with each other. You were so caught up in each other that you almost didn’t notice how the song changed into a slow one. But when you did, Hobi pulled you closer and you nuzzled into his chest as you danced bachata with him. He took extra lessons in this dance style, without you knowing, just because he knew it’s your favorite.

“I love this song so much.” you mumbled, slurring your words a bit.

“What is it?” He asks, whispering in your ear.

“Imitadora by Romeo Santos aka king of bachata.” You mumbled back.

He smiled at your cuteness, leaning down to peck your forehead. You two kept moving to the music, and he spun you around. “What is it about?” he asked when he pulled you back in.

“It’s about how his lover changed and turned cold, no longer giving him the same love that she once did.” You stated, smiling up at him.

He frowned, “Well that’s..romantically depressing.” He said.

You snorted, “Romantically depressing?”

“Yeah,” He smirked down at you, “it’s a romantic song, but it’s also super depressing.”

You shook your head at his ridiculousness and pulled him into a kiss.

“At least the melody is pretty.” You said after pulling back.

He pulled you closer to him, “Indeed it is, jagi. Indeed it is.”

As cliche as it sounds, the world faded around you two, as you both got lost in the dance and each other. You two held each other as if the world was ending. Your souls intertwined and the two of you vibed together. The moment itself was as intimate as it could be, and it would forever remain one of your favorite memories of you two.

Later that night, after the party had ended and everyone had either gone home or gone to sleep, the two of you laid in your bed. Surrounded by darkness, you stared at each other, whispering about how well today went and how much fun you had.

“I think they like me.” He whispers to you, intertwining your fingers with his.

“Oh they definitely do,” you giggled.

“What do you mean?” he raised his eyebrow.

“My mom thinks you’re a ‘fine piece of ass’ as she calls it.” You snort.

Hobi let out a surprise laugh, his cheeks turning the slightest bit of pink. You moved closer to him, cuddling up against his chest.

“I would have to agree with her though.” You whisper.

“Oh yeah?” He smiles down at you.

“Mhmm,” you mumble, falling deeper into your sleep, “You looked so sexy tonight, dancing to Latin music.”

He smirked down at you, kissing the top of your head and closing his eyes.

“Yeah?,” he mumbled back, falling deeper into his own sleep, “I might have to do it more often, then.”

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ms-maj · 4 years

Text

For @theheavycrown on her birthday. Sarah, thank you for all the laughter, support and friendship and for being an all around awesome human being. xoxo

It’s not that he doesn’t like mornings, he does, it’s just that Jughead Jones has come to learn that few good things happen before nine a.m. Yet here he sits at seven, a fine layer of silt covering his beloved Honda, his leather jacket, his helmet (next time he’ll make sure the route he takes avoids as many of those dirt roads as humanly possible; he really wishes he’d stuffed his backpack in the saddlebag instead of wearing it on his back.) The goggles he’s pulled down rest under his chin as he slides his helmet off, his hair feeling heavy and hot in the already building humidity. The helmet clanks against the steel frame as it hangs from the handlebars, dust kicking off in a little cloud as it sways.

He sighs, peeling the filthy eyewear off his head and wipes the lens across his dirty jeans before hanging them on the opposite handlebar. This is not his scene. Well, it’s not not his scene, Jughead is pretty well known as the patron saint of all things forgotten and bygone, so the flea market isn’t too out of turn but taking time off his life to pursue nothing but leisure? Not so much. So when he heard tell of the best collection of antique cast iron this side of the Mississippi he knew he’d be remiss if his cross-country culinary trek didn’t at least find him some new pieces to add to his ever-growing collection. The one that personally threatened to take over another corner of his small house, and the one he’s building a culinary empire on. He exhales forcefully, lifting his coffee from the holder, thankful he opted for the tall, solid cupholder as it somehow managed to save his necessary caffeine from the horrors of the open country road.

Finish below or on AO3

Sipping on his "coffee" he watches as the vendors turn into the old yet still operating drive-in, the name Sunset peeling off the ancient sign. This weekend’s fare, Jaws and Jurassic Park, piecemeal spelled out in crumbling letters on the old marquee. Truck after truck, some with trailers and others just loaded to the brim, turn in a steady stream and supposedly have been doing so for the last hour. There’s a strange excitement that simmers just under the surface, it’s as if he knows he’s going to find exactly what he wants today, maybe even if it’s not at all what he’s been looking for.

Jughead likes to think he’s lived. In his—some glorious and others very much not—thirty-four years on this earth he’s eaten, what he thinks, is the finest food on every continent. He’s trained under classic French chefs in Michelin starred restaurants and with street vendors from Thailand to Peru. His own restaurant, a quaint throwback bistro in the heart of upstate New York is the culmination of those years and years and years of hard work. His passions, he’s come to find, cannot be confined, nor defined, simply by the walls of a kitchen. They’re in the pages of his acclaimed cookbooks and the mystery series he’s been stringing together since high school that he was sure would never amount to anything.

But it did, and here he is. The very definition of latchkey, Jughead Jones grew up the poor son of a couple of addicts and con artists. The ones he hasn’t seen since he got his high school diploma. The moment that piece of paper was in his hands, he loaded his rucksack onto his rusted out Kawasaki and never looked back.

He’s lived in trailers and dorms, in cramped studios and lavish flats, and once, in the projection booth of a drive-in theater. Very much like the one he assumes is in the middle of this one. He sighs, leaning back against his bike, forgetting the heat from the muffler until it starts burning beneath the heavy denim of his jeans.

“Shit,” he mumbles as he shifts uncomfortably away, dislodging his near burnt calf but manages to spill the bitter, gas-station coffee he’d been absently cradling down the front of his white t-shirt. The next expletive out of his mouth is not so quiet. “Fuck me!”

The cup drops to the ground as he wipes at the seeping stain barehanded. “I might have a tissue,” he hears. Instantly he stops the futile attempt to clean himself, looking up when the laughter reaches his ears. “Though I can’t imagine it would be much help.”

The corner of his lip pulls up despite this recent bout of bad luck. She’s in a bold, floral print sundress with the kind of soft hem that dances with the breeze as it blows across the nearly empty lot. The sunhat is floppy, almost too big over the cascade of soft waves that hit her shoulders, she smiles, warm and amused before she takes her lower lip between her teeth, eyes darting from his to the growing spot of wet fabric sticking to his chest.

“I would say I’m well prepared,” he gestures back toward his bike with its ample enclosed storage, and his dust-covered backpack draped over the rear seat. “But apparently I wasn’t thinking this morning. This is also my last clean shirt, so, really batting a thousand today.”

Pink tongue peeking between her teeth as she laughs her eyes narrow as her head dips to the side. “Hmm,” she runs that tongue over her lower lip, looking at him with hooded eyes before seemingly catching herself; clearing her throat she starts again. ”I just pulled my car out of storage, I might have something in the trunk if you want me to take a look?” She half turns to follow where she’s absentmindedly pointing, and he sees the very moment her left foot doesn’t seem to get the memo. If he waits another second she’ll be in the dirt and without even consciously thinking about it, his arms wrap around her waist and keep her from toppling.

She lets out a shaky breath, fingers digging into the leather that encases his bicep. “Sorry, I, uh,” her head darts from side to side before she rights herself and extricates herself from his grip. “I wish I could say I wasn’t normally this klutzy but that would be a lie.” She sweeps the dirt and imaginary wrinkles from her dress and adjusts the hat that now sits just askew on her head.

“Glad I could be of assistance,” he drawls, watching as pink colors her cheeks. “So, a shirt? Maybe?”

Nodding, she turns (with a skosh more grace than before) and walks to the end of the makeshift aisle. “Right this way.”

“You’re not trying to lure me behind an abandoned building so that you can murder me, right?” He thinks it sounds playful, flirtatious even, though both things are patently out of his wheelhouse, but he can’t help but wonder why this gorgeous woman even stopped and looked in his direction.

“Oh, no, see this building might be abandoned, but these grounds aren’t going to be for too much longer. And I have a feeling you might be a screamer.”

Choking a little on his own spit, he slows, swallows, and drags his eyes back up to find hers looking back over her shoulder. She winks, then stops between the fins of some powder blue oddity Jughead has never seen the likes of before.

“I don’t usually find myself at a loss for words but you seem to have found my weakness.”

“And what is that exactly?” She questions as he moves next to her, almost too close, he can feel her breath shuddering against his skin as she places an oddly shaped key into the opening on the trunk.

“Klutzy green-eyed blondes,” he can tell he’s caught her off guard when she gasps as the latch lets go on the trunk lock.

“Okay then,” she’s smiling back at him, that lip caught between her teeth again when he realizes he’s already mapping out their future and he doesn’t even know her name.

“Jughead. Jones.” he supplies, voice cracking like he’s all of sixteen again. He wasn’t nervous, not before this simple moment in which he provides his chosen name and she either laughs or…

Her dainty hand hangs between them. “Pleasure to meet you Jughead, I’m Betty Cooper."

His large, calloused hand engulfs hers, happy to find the spark he thought he felt before was very real, and much, much more than a spark.

Their clasped hands hang between them, neither too eager to drop. Betty finally pulls away with another one of those flustered head shakes, before she starts to rummage through the cavernous trunk. It’s fairly empty, save for whatever Betty is looking for, and it's clearly all the way in the back.

“Okay, but really, you can’t tell me that you haven’t thought, you know hypothetically of course, about how many bodies you could actually fit in this trunk,” he’s taken a step back to get the full picture, which is mostly just Betty stretching the entirety of her gorgeous frame into the depths of the unknown to find him a shirt, but his writers’ mind can’t help but wonder.

She stops her scavenging and with a triumphant grunt, she’s righting herself, the strap of a black duffle bag between her fingers. “Aha! And honestly, who hasn’t seen an old car and thought about the sheer amount of fuckery one could get away with simply based on interior cargo space.”

He knows he’s staring, gaping really, but he can’t seem to help himself. Betty shrugs, unphased, and goes to open the bag. She rummages around for a few seconds then pulls out a Johnny Cash t-shirt.

“I know it’s a little wrinkled but it doesn’t seem to smell,” she pulls the aforementioned garment from her face and hands it to him.

“Even if it did it—anything is an improvement over,” he waves his hand over his sticky shirt and worries she can tell his heart straight-up skips a beat when she laughs.

Jughead takes off his leather jacket, passes it wordlessly to Betty who tries to clean it as best she can with a small rag from her car. He slips his arms inside of his soiled shirt and pushes it up around his shoulders, sliding it off as he pulls on the clean one. When he looks back at Betty she looks a little perplexed.

“What?”

“Just wondering what prompted the middle-school locker room style shirt change. If my seeing you topless would’ve been too much for your delicate sensibilities than perhaps I’ve misjudged—”

“That is quite enough out of you,” he points a menacing finger in her direction but is laughed down. His glare breaks quickly and the smile that takes over almost hurts. Has he been that out of practice with even smiling that the muscles in his face don’t know what to do about it? It’s a definite possibility. It just seems to come so naturally around Betty that he doesn’t want to question, and subsequently, jinx it.

“Oh yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?" Eyebrow raised, she leans closer, arm outstretched with his coat.

He reaches to grab it but he misses the jacket altogether and brushes his fingers against hers. "Sounds like you'd love to find out, " it's from who winks this time. Betty's grip falters and the leather falls into his hand. Words form on his tongue but before he can get them out a shrill ring cuts through the ambiance of the morning.

The trunk is slammed close; the moment is gone. “Shit, it’s a client, and a big one so I have to take this. I, um, I’ll see you in there? Hopefully?” He knows the disappointment is etched on his face, but he tamps it down and nods in her direction. Her smile back is enthusiastic, she looks sanguine; before he turns around he hears, what he assumes, is a happy lilt as she greets whoever is on the line.

He stuffs the jacket and his soiled shirt into one of the saddlebags, slides on his trusty (and dusty) grey beanie, grabs a few canvas tote bags, and heads into the flea market. There’s a moment he thinks he hears her voice but when he turns he's met with the endless drone of tires as the lot begins to fill.

It seems silly—feels silly—to be missing someone after such a short time. Not only just since you’ve seen them but also because you’ve only exchanged a handful of words in the entire five minutes that you’ve known one another.

There’s a small line at the gate. As he waits to pay his admission, he runs a hand over the back of his neck and tugs at the edge of his hat, trying to keep this weird, swirly sensation inside instead of letting it bubble out lest he ends up skipping through the lanes.

He lets out a mirthless laugh, the kind he finds usually echo throughout his empty home only this time it's met with the hustle and bustle of the early-bird crowd. There's no time to dwell, no reason to wait; just the time (and patience) to find himself that thirteen-inch Spider skillet, and maybe a new Dutch oven...or two.

Or, he remembers after he's grabbed new forty-fives for the jukebox, old carnival prints for Toni, a snake ashtray for Sweet Pea that he knows Val will hate but it's so ugly he can't help himself, that while he may be able to mail himself whatever he can't carry across the states...he still has to get it there in the first place.

It's why he talks himself out of the awful Rocky poster. It's not for him, of course, but rest assured it would be most appreciated by Archie and Reggie. Jughead can actually picture exactly where in their apartment where they'd hang it. Their housewarming present would have to wait until the next flea market.

He hasn't even made it to the small cluster of more upscale dealers before he's at the snack stand, walking away with a blue icee and cotton candy like the grown man he is. While enjoying his treats he's only half paying attention to the stalls and tables that line each of drive-in’s aisles, surely missing out on some choice vintage toys and housewares that he has no use (or room) for.

Mostly, his mind wanders as he weaves through the ever-growing throng. He’s been looking for a floppy sun hat but, unfortunately, many, many people seem to be concerned about the adverse effects of UV rays. Not that that in and of itself is not unfortunate, it’s just not helping him at the moment. If he couldn’t look down and see the physical evidence of their interaction, he’d believe he hallucinated the whole thing. The universe doesn’t just drop his idyllic dream girl into his path, well, it absolutely would allow him to see her once and then never again. But he doesn’t want that…

He wants to know what it feels like to have her legs wrapped around his waist, on the bike, in their bed. He wants to see her tangled in their bedsheets or sitting at the counter as he feeds her his latest culinary creation. Not that he’s ever been one to live inside the delusions, his upbringing has forced his ‘manifest your own destiny’ lifestyle to never rely on the dreams, just use them as touchstones for achieving said ruminations. But these, the daydreams are so vivid, so real that he almost walks right past the intended object of his affection.

And it’s only the melodious cant of saccharine condescension that brings him back to the moment.

“I realize that I’m here later than we discussed, but that shouldn’t affect the price we agreed upon, right?”

Betty’s arms were crossed over her chest, head cocked to the side, the sunhat effectively obscuring her beautiful face, which by her tone, Jughead assumes is sporting a proper scowl.

“It shouldn’t, no,” the vendor starts. He stands a good foot and a half taller than Betty, broad-chested and fully bearded, he runs a calloused hand over the gray whiskers. “It’s just that this is a highly collectible item—”

“Which you are being more than fairly compensated for! You acquired it for me, I don’t understand why you’re being so obstinate now.”

“C’mon Betty Boop, you know exactly why. You’re looking so pretty today, go on a date with me and I’ll throw in that Griswold trivet I’ve seen you eyeing up,” Jughead sees the man's hands come down on the table as he leans closer to Betty. He watches her body swell with a deep inhalation that releases as her hands hit the table to mimic his pose.

“Not if you were the last man on Earth, Andrew. Just sell me the damn dutch oven and I’ll be on my merry little way.”

The vendor sucks air through his teeth so loudly it whistles. “Doesn’t sound like I’m getting anything out of this…”

Jughead is practically standing over Betty’s shoulder now, the tension and frustration rolling off her like waves. “Andrew, I swear to all the gods in existence, if you don’t take the agreed price and put my dutch oven in this fancy bag here I’m calling your Gran.”

Jughead isn’t sure he’s ever seen anyone deflate so quickly. The man grunts holds out his hand and in it, Betty presses a neat stack of cash. The large, lidded pot makes its way to the table and from his vantage point can tell it’s a Wapak and in pristine condition.

“Nice looking piece of cookware you got there,” he says loudly behind her. She startles straight, turns slowly, and greets him with the brightest smile he thinks he’s ever seen.

“Jughead!” Her arms are around his neck and face pressed against the planes of his chest before he can blink. She seems to realize herself and is out of his arms and standing in front of him within the second it takes to realize how much he misses her warmth.

“What, did you think you could get rid of me that easily? I still have your shirt,” his hands rest on her waist, he hasn’t dropped them, and she hasn’t moved further away so he’s going to assume it’s not unwelcome.

She hums.”Well, it looks much better on you than in did crumpled up in my trunk

“Everything okay here?”

“We’re just peachy, right Andrew?” Betty questions, turning away from him and out of his grasp. She grabs the bag he’s placed on the table and with a most unrefined grunt, hoists it over her shoulder.

“We’re good, Coop. Just try to be on time from now on, it’s not very,” he pauses. Jughead can feel the man’s eyes slide from Betty to him, looking him up and down with a displeased expression. “Professional.”

“Oh, Andrew. Green is not your color. If you weren’t the only person in the tri-state area who could get me this stuff then I would never give you my business, ever again. But since I clearly work for sadists who love forcing me to interact with you, we’re at an impasse,” she shifts the bag on her shoulder and continues. “However, you make any more assumptions about my professionalism or personal life, then they’re going to have to find a new liaison.”

Andrew groans. “Don’t be like that, Betty! You know it all comes from the heart,” he crosses a hand to his and pats, and then he’s reaching under the table. “Here’s that trivet you had your eye on.”

Jughead moves up next to her and takes the trivet before it reaches her hand. “Is this a 1739? I’ve only been able to find pictures of these!”

He holds the metal piece reverently between his hands, long fingers tracing the intricate lace pattern, running over the feet, brushing against the logo that was stamped into the bottom some seventy years ago. “You know Griswold?” Betty’s tone is more than just surprised, there’s a slight breathlessness he can’t quite place as he places the trivet into her hands.

“Oh, uh,” his head shakes a little with the chuckle. “Yeah, cast iron is pretty much why I’m even here. My best friend told me that if I was looking for something special, this would be the place to find it.” Suddenly feeling very shy, he rubs nervously at the back of his neck.

“Interesting,” Betty’s eyes narrow and fix on him, but it doesn’t make him feel as uncomfortable as he thought it would. Maybe it’s because an hour ago he was flirting like a lovesick teenager and he’s merely happy to be the object of her attention. He hears her bag hit the ground with a heavy thud. “If you’re looking for something in particular, this is your guy. I wasn’t being hyperbolic when I said he had the best. And if he doesn’t have it on-site, he’s usually able to procure it in a very short time.”

Andrew smiles at her praise and nods along. “Yeah, man, if you’re a friend of Betty’s you must be in the know. What tickles your fancy?”

Not really sure how to process, or address, any of what the man in front of him has just said, he locks eyes with Betty and lets out a sharp breath. She’s got the kind of smile that they used to write poetry about and he knows he’s done for. He’s smiling himself now and with a quick turn of his head he’s looking at Andrew again. “What do you know about Spiders?”

They’ve managed to walk the rest of the flea market, Betty picking up a few random items along with the (many) client requests. He learns she owns a small but successful antique shop in western Mass but she's rarely there. Mostly, she travels and he wonders what she's running from. She says it's to procure the things people want versus the things she thinks they would want to buy. It's not about the money, although it seems to pay well, she insists it's the history, the adventure, the joy it brings when she tracks down a vase-like what was on Grandma's table or an album that your grandfather taught you to dance to. She talks about antiques like he talks sous vide, the process, the art, how when it all comes together...life is magic.

"I can’t believe he’s going to find me a thirteen Spider! Do you have any idea how rare…oh, well, I suppose you do being an antique dealer and all that,” he bumps his shoulder (the one not carrying her stupidly heavy dutch oven) against hers, her head ducks in response but he can see the rosy hue on her cheeks.

“If you’ve known each other for so long why all the shit for being late? And if I’m what made you late I apologize—”

“No, Jughead! Not even a little,” she grabs his shoulder and pulls him to stop beside her. “Andrew was just being a dick because that’s who he is as a person. Yes, I was late to meet him but that was because I was having a little car trouble this morning.”

“What, the marvel of modern engineering you’re tooling around in is finicky? Who’d have thunk?” He holds out his (second) icee, offering Betty the last sip but she politely declines. He shrugs as best he can and finishes the cold red syrup in a quick gulp. The sun is blazing, scorching them from on high before he knows it. Jughead feels the sweat beading on his brow, threatening to drip down his face in the most unbecoming of ways. He's thankful they're heading back toward their respective vehicles. It's not that he wants this day to end, in fact, he's kind of hoping he can repeat it forever, but he really would like to get out of the sun.

She smacks his arm playfully. “Don’t talk about Edie that way!”

“Edie? She’s even got an old ladies' name, Betts,” they finally reach said car and Jughead heaves the bags from his shoulder and drops them in the dirt.

Betty sighs as the lock clicks, trunk springing open. "She's an Edsel. You're not wrong about her being an old lady but trust me when it comes to classic cars Edsels are…"

Jughead scoffs. "I might have a proclivity for two-wheeled machines but I do know a thing or two about the four-wheeled varieties as well. The Ford Edsel, only produced between 1958 and 1960, was an ode to Henry's wife but was too modern and impractical to gain popularity. What?"

Jughead Jones knows a thing or two about food, and how people look when they're truly enjoying something. At this moment he'll tell you he feels like braised short ribs or a perfectly cooked steak or a decadent slice of dacquoise, with the way Betty is looking at him.

She swallows, audibly. "No one knows Edsels. No one knows they exist let alone know actual details about their launch, and subsequent failure."

"Hmm, sounds to me you just haven't been meeting the right people," he hoists her heavy bags off the ground and puts them in the trunk.

Betty's hand reaches for the lid and lingers for a moment before she gently closes it. "You might be onto something, Jones.”

He steps forward, careful not to invade her space too badly but unable to resist the urge to be closer. “Do you maybe want to grab a bite to eat?”

The diner is nice, albeit the interior leaves a little something to be desired. It’s cliche in the way you want a retro establishment to be; walls lined in old adverts, gas and oil cans on shelves, kitschy to a fault. They're tucked in the corner, in a red, squeaky vinyl booth and had to cross a very large expanse of cheap, sticky linoleum. He just hopes the food makes up for the fact he had to peel his feet up with every step. That’s not a sound one wants to hear in the place where they’re going to eat.

He explains as much to Betty, how atmosphere can change and engage perception, how the menu is designed to make you want the items that make them the most money, and not necessarily the ones that they cook well. After their food comes and he samples the fare he raves about the milkshakes but is unimpressed with everything else.

“This is farmland, Betty. I passed not two, but three farms coming back. And at least one of them had Angus! Why are we being served frozen burgers?”

Betty eats a fry and pretends to look thoughtful.“I guess it never crossed my mind, Jug. You certainly have strong feelings about food.”

“Yeah, and that’s about the only thing,” he leans back in the booth and lays his arm across the back. “It might align very closely with what I do for a living.”

“You’re a chef,” Betty says matter-of-factly. “That explains your love of cast iron cookware and,” she vaguely gestures around the room. “How you know so much about the business. Still doesn’t answer how you know about Edsels.”

Jughead chuckles in response. “Misspent youth” When she shoots him a questioning look he sighs. "There may be some less than savory characters in my past. I wasn't one of them per se but I could have been described as gang adjacent."

Nodding, Betty takes a sip of the cold confection in front of her. She starts to speak and pauses like she's rolling something around before she says it. Next, she's looking at him as though a lightbulb has gone off. "Wait, wait, you're not a chef you're the chef! The author," Betty’s eyes narrow ever so slightly before going wide, her mouth gapes a bit before she produces words. "You're Forsythe."

How the fuck? "How the fuck?"

"My client from earlier was looking for a dutch oven for her partner's friend, a chef, whose niche is cast iron cookware. This same friend has also authored a series of cookbooks and a youth mystery."

“And what about any of that makes you say my name is Forsythe?” His voice comes out lower than he expects, a harsh timbre colors his words. "And it was not a youth mystery. It sounds like some Tracy True or Baxter Brothers nonsense when you say it like that."

“You are. Holy shit! And they set this up! Oh, those sneaky, brilliant, beautiful women,” Betty buries her face in her hands and groans.

“Would you please fill me in because I am feeling ten ways of lost and, if I’m being honest, a little creeped out.”

Betty looks up, soft eyes, and smiling. “Oh, Jug. Apparently, our friends have finally gotten sick of our wallowing.”

“What friends? Who has friends?”

She rolls her eyes. “It would seem we do. You see, Cheryl is my cousin and Veronica is my best friend from high school."

"Wait, Cheryl, as in Blossom? And Veronica Lodge?"

Betty nods in affirmation. "They were oil and water through most of our formative years and then after their first year at Sarah Lawrence, well, they came back together. Fast forward two years and enter Toni Topaz, who I'm assuming is the missing link here, yeah?"

"Toni would be one of the three people on this planet I consider family, " he's leaning across the table, elbows making divots in the surface when suddenly he has his own lightbulb moment. "Elizabeth? The itinerant eccentric antiquarian?"

“Wow, is that a Cheryl or Veronica description?" She rubs the bridge of her nose, head shaking as she takes it in. "Doesn't matter, but with a title like that, it's no wonder that you were never around when I was. Oh, and surprise! It would appear your pseudo-sister and her girlfriends are giving you a dutch oven for your next birthday. Congrats.”

Jughead is trying to process, though it feels an awful lot like failing. Until suddenly, it all makes sense. “She's the one who told me I needed to stop here and check out the cast iron. Insisted there was something I needed, something she was certain I would find."

"Well, " Betty looks up at him from under the thick veil of her lashes. "Was she wrong?"

For years he’s traveled from place to place; running from anything and everything. Even when he decided to put down roots it was relatively far from even the best of his friends. No one could just ‘drop by’, it’s not like he’d have been home anyway. He’s buried his loneliness in new recipes; it’s scratched into the margins of his favorite books, in the words poured from his own hand. He looks at the woman sitting across from him, strawberry milkshake in front of her, glowing under the harsh neon lights that contrast so glaringly will all her soft edges.

The realization comes easily. He doesn’t have to think about anything more than ‘do I take this risk’ and he’s never been one to say no to risks before.

He drops his arm, reaching across the table, and before it can rest on the Formica Betty slots her fingers between his. “She has never been more right in her life, but please don’t tell her that."

Betty’s laughter peals through the restaurant. He smiles despite himself. For the first time that he can recall, something good came before nine am. As a matter of fact, when her thumb traces the back of his hand, he’ll even go as far as to say it's something great.

#bughead #bughead fanfiction #there's some fluff #and lots of cheese #and I'm not sorry #it's for Sarah #can't blame me

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