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yeolmae-s · 3 years

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a chanbaek analysis from a veteran exo-l

before anything else there are a few disclaimers i'd like to make:

i am writing this analysis right now because as a non exo stan i'm not into chanbaek that much anymore. of course i like them to some degree since i'm writing this and all but it's nothing in comparison to the way i felt about them two years ago. so i feel like it's easier to keep a less clouded (?) state of mind being where i'm at right now, mentally, in regards to them. i feel like i can look at things more objectively, which is why i decided to write this and share it with you all.

for all the smart asses out there, this is a ship analysis. yes, i’m reading too much into everything. that’s what an analysis is.

all translation credits goes to @/fyeah-chanyeol

i'm a chanyeol stan. this analysis will, most likely, have more information about him in comparison to baekhyun. this is simply because i consumed more content about him since he's my bias (such as magazine interviews, fancams).

i don't stan exo anymore, but it's not because of anything they did. i liked them for a long time and made a lot of different friends because of this fandom, therefore i experienced a lot of hurt, scandals, fights and didn't deal very well with many things, so i decided to leave. this didn't happen because of exo themselves and neither did it happen because of the fandom itself. it happened because of the relationships i had.

that being said, i haven't been following them closely for the past year and a half, but i still keep up with stuff a bit, although not chanbaek related stuff since i gotta dive in kinda deeper for that lmao. so this analysis is mostly in depth for 2012-2018. if anything that you perceive as significant happened after 2018 i'm more than willing to hear your opinions about it.

so, let's get started!!

MAMA ERA

I have always felt like Chanyeol and Baekhyun's relationship was strange. I started shipping them when they debuted and more specifically because of the 130128 ISAC. When I was younger I didn't see a lot to discuss in their ISAC interactions besides it being cute and shippy, but I've started to look at it differently now.

I think everyone knows how ISAC is known for being basically a stage for fanservice. The whole "dating ground for idols" issue aside, judging from the amount of attention they direct towards the fans who manage to attend the event, idols are clearly instructed to perform fanservice. EXO's first ISAC had to be full of it, obviously, and they did give fans a lot to be happy about, content we still get giddy about to this day, and I'm sure they were instructed to act like this to please us. I don't believe that fanservice equals "false interactions": if two individuals are talking, touching each other, they are interacting, even if it is a carefully planned setting made specifically for pleasing fans. They still get reactions out of one another through these interactions, it is still relevant to the way these people's relationship will develop; even though these acts are done with the intent of pleasing a crowd.

Don't get me wrong, though. I don't think the 2013 ISAC fanservice changed anything in Chanbaek's relationship. In fact, I just want to use it as a way to illustrate something I will explain later on.

To be remembered in an industry you must have an image. You won't be getting anywhere without a carefully constructed visual image. Marilyn Monroe is always used as an example of this: she's someone you can easily make a costume of and people will instantly recognize it as her. She's basically a concept by now: blonde hair, red lips and white hair. These aspects take our mind back to her instantly. Of course, most celebrities don't achieve this type of icon status, but it is still important to cling to a specific concept/image of what you want your celebrity self to be perceived as. Without this, you'll be forgotten as soon as your career ends.

When Chanyeol debuted, he clung to the first trait they gave him: being a happy person, a.k.a "happy virus". If you were not an EXO fan back in 2013 then it's likely you're not even aware of this nickname that was given to him, but it's basically just what it sounds like (lol). He was bright, energetic, had a "teeth rich" smile (another nickname that was given to him back then), was able to give 10/10 laughter reactions to MCs and to his members jokes, was always enthusiastic to interact and smile towards fans. He even introduced himself as "happy virus Chanyeol" in interviews (and later on that changed to "EXO's voice Chanyeol" or "EXO's rapper Chanyeol").

I feel like Chanyeol was very much aware of this "must have" that I mentioned, this need to have an image pasted into yourself and have that image be what people will remember you as. We're all complex and multifaceted individuals, but the general public needs something simple to grab on to, something easy to remember. That happy guy from EXO? I know who he is! I'm sure this is the path Chanyeol chose, back when he debuted: to pick a trait given to you by the public and make it a huge part of your image.

However, that image of him didn't last very long. It certainly became tiring to worry so much about how he was being perceived, to carefully construct something so his career would last, specially when his group had so many scandals and went through a sudden burst of popularity that changed their lives completely. By 2017, Chanyeol already had a change of mind in relation to his career, these changes being mostly due to how he felt about music and what he wanted to do with it.

He recognized himself as having always being impatient, which might be the reason why he clung to a specific image so fast right after debuting:

From Fall Magazine in 2017

"At the moment I just want to enjoy myself with the music as it comes, without feeling as though I have to do something. It isn’t a greed from impatience, I could call it more of a greed to do better."

"When I first debuted I thought I was very optimistic, but as time has passed I think a more reserved side of me is showing."

"I think I've grown in many ways. Maybe it’s because it’s as though I perform everyday, but the stage has become comfortable for me. Shall we say I’ve become more calm and composed? [...] I think I’ve become more mature."

He matured. He's still bright and energetic but he's also more reserved. He managed to keep up the fanservice that his fans adore in a way that is more fitting to his actual personality. It still is an image, but an image that's not as exhausting as his previous one, with its strict demands to act in a certain way all the time. I remember specific interview with MCs demanding him to smile (although jokingly, of course) saying things like "Aren't you EXO's happy virus?", so I'm sure he felt pressured.

This is interesting to think about when put side by side with his relationship with Baekhyun. Back when they debuted, Chanyeol and Baekhyun were close friends that clearly felt comfortable with each other, and it isn't surprising to think that Baekhyun would be Chanyeol's first pick when he thought about doing fanservice with someone. Of course, I can't exactly pinpoint their first fanservice moment since I'm not a walking EXO encyclopedia anymore, but I can say with certainty that both of them felt like it worked as soon as they first tried it with the fans, and that's the reason why they kept doing it. Conveniently, they were both good friends, so all was good.

Until well, it wasn't.

At some point, Chanyeol's interactions with Baekhyun seemed too eager for Baekhyun himself. There are various moments where this is visible, such as this one:

Why are you grabbing my wrist out of nowhere young man........

Or...

That one pic where Jongdae, who was in front of them, looked so damn uncomfortable I can't even bring myself to google it

Of course, they had some over the top fanservice that did work out pretty well, such as this one, both of them imitating Jonghyun's and Taemin's Internet War stage, which seems a little scripted now that I look at it properly, with Baekhyun seemingly expecting Chanyeol to do whatever it is that he did on that day. (Can you imagine this: both of them backstage, watching Jonghyun's and Taemin's performance in silence, and one of them just blurts out "We should do that too!". What the fuck was going on)

By the way, if you have never seen the original Internet War performance, you can watch it here.

This is what they were imitating.

Tumblr won’t let me upload the gifs for this moment for some reason, so here and here.

You can't tell me Baekhyun wasn't expecting it already, lol.

Now, know what this moment reminds me of? ISAC. On their Internet War imitation moment, Baekhyun seemed fine, playful, even, agreeing. During ISAC, however, doing basically the same thing again (this time on a lighter way even; since they weren't, you know. Imitating a strong performance such as Internet War.), he appears reluctant. It's a bit painful to watch.

What changed? The ISAC event happened a few months after the SMTOWN concert where they did the Internet War thing, so what made things become so different?

If this has enough likes I’ll make a second part!

#i got tired halfway through writing and i decided i needed some motivation to finish this so i'm posting it the way it is lmao #chanbaek #baekyeol #park chanyeol #byun baekhyun #exo #kpop

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nerdzzone · 3 years

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Only For A Moment: September

Summary: A series of shorter one shots from Chris and Whitney’s life together throughout the pandemic. Some happy times, some harder times, some fluff and some things a little more sexy - they work through it all as they try to get settled in their new and blossoming relationship.

Chris Evans x OFC

Part of the Once Bitten/More Hearts series

Only For A Moment: August

Note: I really liked writing this part so please let me know your thoughts!

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September 2020

Before the pandemic hit, we'd planned to send Grayson to preschool in the fall after he turned three. However, with the state of the world when the time arrived, it became a more complicated decision. We knew the benefits - we knew it would give him the opportunity to make friends and jumpstart his learning - but after many long, anxiety filled discussions, we decided to keep him home for another year. We didn't need it for childcare as neither of us had any work on the horizon and he still had another year before kindergarten so he wouldn't be missing out on preschool education completely. The risks just seemed to outweigh the benefits at that point in time given the case numbers in our area.

But not everyone had such an easy choice to make. People with older children had to educate them somehow - whether that be in person or online. In person classes had a much higher risk of exposure to the virus, but online classes were harder for children to focus on and required much more participation from the parents.

Carly had made the difficult choice to keep her kids at home and continue their online education, but it was proving to be harder than she'd anticipated. The kids were tired of learning through a computer and they missed their friends. Despite the risk of in person learning, they wanted to go back to school and were dragging their heels when it came to doing their work at home.

They started in August and by the middle of September, Carly was quickly losing her patience with all three of her children and, after a tearful phone call from his sister, Chris and I agreed to take them for an afternoon. They had some homework that we had to make sure they did, but Chris' goal was more related to sending them home with a renewed appreciation for their parents and a promise to keep working hard.

He'd picked them up just after lunch and given them a stern - but understanding - talking to on the way over to our place, but once they arrived he was back to being fun Uncle Chris and started their afternoon of school with gym class in the form of a soccer game. He ran them around the yard for over an hour before they wrapped up the game and came in for a snack. Then, the real school work started.

"So," Chris clapped. "What homework does everyone have?"

"Math..."

Ethan wrinkled his nose in disgust as he answered and his siblings nodded their heads in agreement.

"Well, it's your lucky day!" Chris grinned. "Whitney happens to be a math whiz! She went to university to be an accountant."

It was hard not to laugh at the disgust on their faces and I was tempted to inform them of the fact that I had dropped out just to retain my status as their uncle's 'cool' girlfriend. I thought that information might not help inspire them to work though so I kept it to myself.

"Why did you do that?" Miles questioned. "That's so boring!"

"It doesn't have to be," I insisted. "Chris, why don't you take Gray to do a puzzle or something and we'll get this work out of the way?"

"Sure," Chris nodded, plucking Grayson off the stool he was sitting on and throwing the giggling child over his shoulder. "And remember, the faster the homework gets done, the faster we can get back to doing fun stuff!"

I waited until Chris had left the room before shooting a smile at the little students that I was left with.

"Okay, now that he's gone, I can show you the secret to making math fun," I told them, stretching up to grab a big jar of jelly beans from the top shelf of a cupboard. It was Chris' secret stash, but I was sure he wouldn't be too mad if I borrowed it. "You just need to find some motivation."

The kid's eyes went wide.

"Are those Uncle Chris'?" Ethan asked, a hint of wonder in his voice.

"Yep," I smiled. "So, let's hurry and get to work before he comes back and catches us."

I shot them a wink and they all scurried off to get their notebooks.

It was easier to incorporate the candy into Miles and Stella's math homework as in the younger grades, they were mostly doing addition and subtraction. I helped them use the jelly beans as counters and let them eat them after every few questions. For Ethan, it was a bit trickier. In sixth grade, he was getting more into the start of algebra and some harder level fractions which jelly beans were less useful in. Instead, we used them as motivation and he got to eat a couple of jelly beans for every row of questions he finished.

We almost got away with our jelly bean thievery, but just as the kids were packing up their books, I heard a gasp come from the doorway.

"Are those my jelly beans?!"

The kids all burst out laughing as I shot Chris a sheepish look.

"I'm sorry. They needed some encouragement..."

Chris shook his head, but the smile on his face told me that he wasn't really that upset.

"I trusted you," he scolded me. "Now I'll have to find a new hiding spot and you won't be informed of its whereabouts."

I pouted at that as Grayson scrambled up onto the stool beside me to get his hands in the candy before it was moved.

"You could just be nice and share," I pointed out. "Making them forbidden just makes them more tempting."

"Yeah, Uncle Chris," Ethan nodded in agreement. "Plus, you're always telling us that we have to share stuff."

"You're getting too smart, kid," Chris smiled at him. "But unfortunately for you, I'm still in charge which means you have to do as I say, not as I do."

Ethan rolled his eyes at that as Stella frowned.

"That's not fair!"

"That's life," Chris shrugged. "Now, who's going to help me make some dinner?"

Grayson and Stella threw their hands up in the air as I popped another jelly bean into my mouth.

"What are we having?"

"Pasketti!" Grayson enthusiastically informed me, earning a laugh from Chris as he ruffled his hair.

"Spaghetti," he clarified. "With Ma's recipe for the sauce."

"Ooh, yum!"

I stole one last jelly bean before putting the lid back on the jar. The kids all whined in protest, but if Chris was making dinner then I knew it was time for me to stop stuffing them with sugar.

We all stayed in the kitchen as Chris started getting things ready, giving the kids simple jobs to do like opening jars and the occasional stirring. Dinner was about halfway ready when Miles got a cheeky smirk on his face.

"Uncle Chris?" He questioned, getting Chris' attention. "Aren't you going to sing the spaghetti song?"

That piqued my interest and I raised an eyebrow at Chris whose cheeks were slightly pinker than they'd been moments before.

"What's the spaghetti song?"

"On Top of Spaghetti," Chris informed me as if I should know what he was talking about. I didn't and my face must have shown him that. "C'mon! You have to know it!"

"I can't say that I do," I shrugged. "You'll have to enlighten me."

"Daddy sings it every time we have pasketti!" Grayson informed me, still mispronouncing the word.

"Well, I think I need to learn it then," I smiled. "Go on, Chris. Let's hear it."

The kids all agreed with me, hassling him to start the song.

"Alright, alright," he agreed after a moment of resistance. His cheeks were still looking a little rosy with embarrassment as he took a deep breath and then began. "On top of spaghetti, all covered with cheese. I lost my poor meatball, when somebody sneezed..."

I watched - filled with an almost overwhelming sense of affection for him - as he sang through all the verses of the song. The kids joined in where they could and all of them were giggling by the time he was done.

"Again, again!"

Grayson started the chant, but they all joined in and with a smirk, I did too.

"Yes, Chris! Again, again!" I teased. "So I can film it for Instagram!"

"Ha-ha," Chris laughed sarcastically. "You're so funny, Whitney. There will be no filming of this performance."

"But just think how much your fans would love it," I smiled. "You'd melt the hearts of women all over the world."

Chris let out a laugh at that comment, but didn't have time to respond before the kids took over again, demanding another performance. Once he was sure that my phone was safely out of reach, he launched into another round of song.

By the time dinner was done and the kids were all settled in front of the TV watching a movie, my heart was feeling rather full. Seeing Chris with all the children and enjoying the afternoon of a house full of their joy and laughter had me feeling things I hadn't been entirely sure I was ready to contemplate yet.

As I sat at the island in the kitchen, sipping my second glass of wine as Chris finished loading the dishwasher, I broached the subject.

"Today has been really nice," I told him, my voice catching his attention in the quiet room. "Having a house full of kids."

That thought clearly gripped his interest as he spun around to face me, still drying his hands.

"Yeah?" The excitement in his voice was palpable. "We haven't talked about that, have we? Do you want more kids?"

"I do," I smiled at his overzealous reaction. "At least one more. I'd like Grayson to have a sibling. It seems lonely to make him grow up all alone."

"It does," he agreed. "I can't imagine growing up without siblings."

"What about you?" I asked. "I mean, I know you've mentioned in interviews that you want a big family, but is that real? Or just for the family man image that your fans love so much?"

Chris chuckled and shrugged, but there was something sheepish about the way he was looking at me.

"Honestly?" He paused as if waiting for a response, but it seemed unnecessary. We both knew I wouldn't want anything other than the truth in a moment like this. "I want at least two more, maybe even three. Hell, I'd have another one right now if you were willing."

I almost choked on the wine I was sipping as those words left his mouth, but as I placed my glass safely back on the counter, the coughing shifted into laughter.

"We can't have another one now," I protested. "We've only been together for like four months!"

"Five," he corrected with a soft smile. "And we were only together for one night before we had Gray and I think he's turned out alright."

He was right about that and I would have been lying if I said that the thought of another little baby didn't stir something inside me, but the more rational side of me came through.

"We can't just rush into another baby," I insisted. "I appreciate your enthusiasm, but that's a big decision."

"I know it is," Chris assured me. "I'm half-kidding. I know it's not something we can rush into, but another part of me thinks it would be nice to have one now while we've got nothing else going on."

"That's true, but this pandemic won't last forever," I pointed out. "Even if you got me pregnant right now, you'll hopefully be working again before it would even be born. I'm not sure I could deal with Grayson and a newborn all by myself."

"Yeah, but some experts think this mess is gonna last for a few years still which would make this the perfect time to have a baby."

I shot him a look and he shrugged with a smirk.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," I warned him. "Let's just see how this whole pandemic situation goes for a bit longer before we make any massive life plans."

"Alright, alright," Chris chuckled, coming around to my side of the island. He rested his chin on my shoulder and slid his arms around my waist, placing his hands on my stomach. "It would be nice though, wouldn't it? Having another little baby around. Another little mix of the two of us."

I could feel his breath on my neck as his voice was low in my ear and I had to admit that he was right. I was one of the lucky women who actually loved being pregnant and, despite how exhausting and stressful the newborn phase was, I did miss having a little baby around.

But my worries about our ability to co-parent if we split up were still lingering in my mind. They'd been eased slightly by how solid our relationship had been so far, but if it all fell apart, I was still worried about how we would cope. Adding another baby to that so soon seemed like a foolish thing to do.

"It would be nice," I agreed, letting my hands rest on top of his. "It will be nice, one day."

"Well, whenever you're ready," Chris paused to place a kiss on my neck. "Just let me know."

I smiled at his eagerness and turned my head to kiss his cheek.

"I will," I assured him. "And maybe, once the kids have gone home and Grayson's in bed, we could practice. Just so we know what we're doing when the time comes..."

"Oh, I know what I'm doing," Chris practically growled, his grip tightening around me to pull me closer against him. "Don't you worry about that."

I giggled at his confidence before wiggling out of his grasp and standing up from the stool I'd been sitting on.

"I'm not worried, but practice makes perfect, right?"

With a wink, I grabbed my wine and turned to leave the room and check on the kids. Our conversation had given me plenty to think about, but it was comforting as well. I had no doubts that one day I wanted to expand our little family and even if I wasn't quite ready yet, it was nice to know that Chris was on board.

The man was born to be a father, he excelled in every aspect of parenting, and I was grateful that I was the one who got to help him find that role and that I got to share the experience with him.

October + November [part one]

Tags: @maggotzombie @moonlacebeam @mizzzpink @zaylaugh @flowery-mess @flowerjewels @njrronaldo7 @hockeychick10 @partypoison00 @theladybiers @sidepieces @firoozehmoon @patzammit @sparkledfirecracker @mytbel0st @chvntelle-99

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fanfic #chris evans fluff #once bitten/more hearts #only for a moment

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fallingappleshurt · 3 years

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63 with Wilbur and Techno. Bonus if it's a flashback to their childhood after wilbur's death.

Hi yes I write things I swear

So the second part of the request is more directly implied than outright stated so oops but yeah! Also this takes place in some modern AU because the SMP is tiring me

all that’s dead and gone and passed tonight

TW: swearing, major character death (already dead not- they are just grieving)

Techno felt like he was watching himself in a painting, a shitty, hazy painting. One where the artist got frustrated and gave up halfway through, smearing the paint up and down and across the canvas in rage.

He couldn’t focus- the smudges on his glasses were distracting and unwanted tears building up in his eyes were blurring the words on his assignments together.

The sky was screaming, the wind whipped at the trees and slapped at the house, thunder shook the clouds and lightning slipped through the cracks. It was raining so hard Techno couldn’t see out his window.

Sharp and painful feelings that he tried so hard to crush were bubbling up along with tears in his eyes- he couldn’t do this. He had at least 3 assignments due at midnight and 2 missing ones that he couldn’t find the motivation to do, he should probably shower, he felt gross- and the rain made him think of Wilbur-

Oh god Wilbur.

If Wilbur were here he’d make Techno take a break after teasing him for awhile, hanging upside down on Techno’s bed and commenting on his fantastic posture.

He jammed his hands in his hair, nails getting caught on the tangles and coating his hands with grease, pulling and digging his fingers into his scalp. This was the last thing he wanted to think about was Wilbur- fuck- his stupid fucking hair was getting in the way.

Phil had tried to get him to take care of it again but even brushing his hair felt like a hassle and Wilbur wasn’t there to braid it. Techno knew how to braid and care for his own hair- but Wilbur would always do it- he used to.

His chest was tight- ribs mending together and crushing his lungs- no he had to focus- just get these assignments done- the thunder cracked outside again.

Tears burned his face, he was tired, so tired, he knew he didn’t have the right to be but he was- he went to grab his pencil only to accidentally jerk at his hair again.

He snapped, shoving his papers and books off the desk, jumping up so fast his chair fell over.

Techno pushed his door open and stomped into the bathroom, rummaging through the drawers in the dark like a mad man, washcloths and toothbrushes and bandaids being shoved aside until he found the scissors.

He grabbed a chunk of his hair- yanking it so he could see it better- and lined the scissors up. He paused, tears clouding his vision to the point where he could barely see himself- did he really want to get rid of it? Of something that took so long to grow- something Wilbur liked so much?

His eyes flickered to the small nightlight on the wall.

He bit his tongue and sliced through his hair.

Iron filled his mouth as he threw his hair on the floor, snipping wildly at the other parts, ripping them away, feeling the jagged ends brush against his face and neck.

Techno dropped the scissors, he stumbled out of the bathroom and back towards his room- it felt unfamiliar but homey at the same time- it smelled like dust and ink.

He collapsed on the already made bed, it was soft and enveloped in him in a cool but familiar sheet of grief.

He wrapped his arms around the pillow, that smelled like the shampoo that Wilbur had insisted on using, holding it to his chest, and somehow fell asleep.

“You’ve been sitting there for the last 3 hours, I thought you’d be finished by now.” Wilbur commented, flopping down on Techno’s bed.

“Shut up.”

Wilbur snorted, “You’re in a mood.”

Techno gripped his pencil tighter, “Go away- I’m busy.”

“You’ve said that a lot recently-”

“Cause I’ve been busy so fuck off!”

Wilbur rolled off the bed, setting his hand on Techno’s shoulder, “You need a break-”

“I need to finish this project-”

“It’s due on Monday, you’ll still have the rest of the weekend to finish it, now come on, we’re going on a walk.”

“But it’s raining,”

“So? That’s what makes it fun, besides it's basically summer so it’s warm.”

Techno let Wilbur drag him out of his room, past Tommy who was passed out on the couch with the TV blaring, and through the kitchen towards the garage.

“Leave your shoes.”

“What?”

“Walking barefoot in the rain feels much better than with shoes, now come on! You’re so slow!”

They walked out of the garage and were immediately pelted with fat drops of water as the sky dumped buckets on them. Wilbur grinned and they continued down the driveway and down the sidewalk.

Techno felt like an idiot, walking in the rain in shorts and a t-shirt with his twin, but strangely, he didn’t mind it. Wilbur closed his eyes and put his head back, smiling widely, letting the rain hit his face and drench his hair.

Barely anybody was out, Techno could see faint light filtering from other peoples windows but the streets were clear, he watched leaves and twigs get swept down the little rivers that ran down the curb every time it rained.

Wilbur grabbed his hands suddenly, spinning them around, Techno was barely able to stop himself from falling.

“What-”

“Come on Tech! Move your feet, get your blood flowing!” Wilbur twisted them around again, laughing. His laugh was like little drops of sunlight in the sea.

Techno snorted, trying to keep up with Wilbur’s rapid pace.

They spun themselves at a shitty old field by the middle school, where the buses would park over the summer and the people would let their dogs run. The asphalt was gray and cracked, huge potholes filled with water and pebbles.

Wilbur pulled him along, urging him to go faster, until they were running. They ran through the puddles, splashing muddy water on their legs. Techno ran and ran, feeling the wind in his hair that was simultaneously sticking to his forehead, his feet hit the ground so hard he thought they might bleed but he finally felt like he wasn’t wrapped in a foggy haze.

Wilbur nearly tripped twice and Techno couldn’t see out of his glasses but for the first time in months he felt like he could breathe.

Eventually they went back home, creeping through the house Techno went to get changed and dry himself off, once he did he sat back down to work on his project again. Only for Wilbur to poke his head through the door, droplets of water still clinging to his hair.

“Oh no you don’t, I just got you to loosen up, you gotta stay loose. Come here,”

“I really should be working-”

“Shut up and let me braid your hair.”

Techno found himself in Wilbur’s room sipping a cup of hot chocolate, curled up on the bed with Wilbur running his fingers through his hair, sectioning it off for braids.

It was still pouring outside, rain pattering against the window, the ceiling fan creaked and rattled mixing in with the TV’s soft melody of a cheesy old show Techno hadn’t seen in years. The multicolored Christmas lights Wilbur had taped to the wall were glowing softly but still brighten the room.

When Wilbur finished the last braid he leaned against his twin, his hot chocolate forgotten on the desk, “Stay the night with me?” He asked quietly, “It’ll be just like old times.”

Techno nodded and Wilbur laid his head on his shoulder, just like old times.

Phil had been worried when he woke muffled thumps and bangs coming from the hall but after quickly investigating found that they were safe.

He felt the panic flare up again for a moment when he peered in and saw Techno wasn’t in his room and it was in complete disarray but relaxed when he found him in Wilbur’s room, curled up, fast asleep.

He wondered if he should wake him and ask if he was alright but ultimately stopped himself, he couldn’t do that to him, even in the dim light Techno looked more at peace then he had in months.

It had been months since Wilbur died and Phil’s chest burned everyday, there was a piece missing from his home, his heart, his family, he lost his songbird.

He knew it affected his other sons too, Tommy flipped between loud fits of rage and sadness, screaming or sobbing softly, while Techno was barely managing to scrape by as human.

Wilbur and Tommy were close but Wilbur and Techno had been by each other's sides since birth.

He remembered Wilbur refusing to leave Techno’s side when he was sick and how Techno never missed one of his concerts. The paper crowns and crudely made flags and swords as they decided they were the most fearsome duo that would conquer the land one day.

They never got that far.

Phil knew Techno tried to put on a brave front but it was cracking, piece by piece, baggy eyes, slipping grades, and forgetting to eat. He had tried to help but nothing seemed to be working, Techno was slipping into a husk of himself.

Wilbur may have been in a casket but any fool could see Techno was the dead one.

#owo got sad and wrote some fluff and some pain #twin Wilbur and techno has my heart #mcyt #wilbur soot #philza #technoblade #fanfiction #fanfic #Apples Writing #hurt no comfort #fluff #dreams #asks #answered #sleepyblr #sleepyboysinc #family AU #family dynamic #family feels

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petra-realsnk · 3 years

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Rivetra fanfic (divergence au)

Hello guys! Here’s the fifth chapter of Digging up a grave. First of all, thank you once more for all the comments and kudos! The story might be a little longer than what I had originally planned. It almost writes itself alone... We’re probably more than halfway through, and as you have seen, things are starting to blow up a bit! Enjoy ♥️

Warnings: slightly mature (?).

You can also read it here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29610360/chapters/73557303

Digging up a grave (Chapter 5)

“From personal experience, promises are no good, but they’re necessary.”

Trust me

Levi hugged Petra, leaning against the side of her bed, trying to calm her down. Her gaze was lost somewhere in the darkened room, and Levi had started stroking the back of her neck gently, fighting to not let her fear drag him down as well. He had sent many companions to die throughout his life, and it felt horrible to have to feel her like this, against him, so tender and fragile all of a sudden, knowing that he would have to ask her to die once more.

When she calmed down a bit, Petra pulled away from her captain's arms and went to wash her mouth. Levi remained silent, feeling responsible for that gesture ... Returning, Petra tried to maintain her composure, in an attempt to reclaim the pride she had left. She stood before him, searching for the right words to explain what had happened. Levi got up, and moved closer to her. He didn’t want his presence to leave her, not even for a second.

“What have you seen?” He asked, giving her time to respond.

Petra swallowed, tensing her chest. “It will be Eren… I will pass my powers to him. I saw him eating me.”

As she finished speaking, she tried to look at him in the eye, but failed. She felt such a coward. He had already explained to her how the process was going to go. There were more shifters on her position right now, younger than her even, and she was the one losing her shit over it. Levi couldn’t help but to feel slightly enraged. He believed Eren to be their hope, they would’ve never reached this far without him, but he was beginning to get fed up with the trail of blood that was being left in his name.

“I guess this is one way to pay my debt. I’ve failed you all back then. Somehow, now I’ve been able to bring you the power of another titan, and I’ll keep it until I can deliver it to him.”

She really was worthy of admiration, Levi thought, but he hated to see her bend over her domed faith like that.

“You know…” She started once more. “When I joined the legion, I always knew this could happen. But it wasn’t a certainty… There was a chance for me to survive. It’s different to endure this after knowing that there’s no way out, and having seen it... It’s different from this side, isn’t it?”

Levi felt like shit, but tried not to show it. He wasn’t as good as Erwin when it came to motivating people to charge towards their deaths.

“There’s still time. A lot of things have changed during these months. Not too long ago, you were dead already, and every possibility had been shut, but you’re here now. I don’t doubt your determination to die for our cause, but don’t give your life that easy either. You should hold on. We might find a way to save you…” He tried to cheer her up, while also wishing to himself.

“You’re right…” She drew a sad smile. “You know… You’ve always been able to bring out the best of me. That’s one of the reasons I’ve always loved to work by your side.”

Levi melted a little. Ever since she realized that death was closing in on her, Petra had lost the fear of speaking.

“I’m glad that you’re by my side as well.” He told her, and although his words sounded kind of dry, he really meant it.

Petra's mood lightened a bit, and she took her hands to her chest, as if she were trying to ease her affection. “Levi, about what happened today…”

His nerves raced. Whatever was about to go down on those stairs, it had been irresponsible of them. He couldn't get her out of his head. Ever since her return, his hyper-fixation on her had worsened, perhaps out of trauma. On the other hand, Petra was becoming a bit reckless, she had nothing else to lose after all. He didn’t want to hurt her, but he couldn’t let this go any further.

“I take responsibility for that.”

That’s all he could come out with. Levi wasn’t even sure of what he was taking responsibility for. He didn't even know what he would have done once he had met her downstairs.

“For what exactly? What was that?” She asked.

“We are not going to dwell into that, Petra. It’s the last thing we need right now.”

She let out a strong sight, trying to keep her focus. His closeness had been driving her insane all day. She was afraid of seeing how much she was losing herself. She had never behaved like that before, all of this was making her lose her mind.

“I see, that’s good. I’m fine already, so… Thank you for your help. You should go back and try to get some sleep, captain.” She said as she started walking towards her bed.

“So, I’m back to being the captain?” Levi thought.

“Are you sure you don’t need me to stay? You better not do anything stupid.” He asked.

“Don’t worry, I’m okay.”

He looked at her for a moment, unconvinced... “You know what? That’s for me to decide.” He said as he sat on the chair on the corner of her dorm.

Petra looked at him slightly offended. “I won’t be able to sleep, if you’re staring at me from there!”

“Shut up.”

Uncomfortable as she was, Petra closed her eyes and tried to recreate in her imagination the feeling of his fingers when he caressed the back of her neck. Once in a while, she opened her eyes to look at him, and saw him sitting with his eyes shut and his arms crossed over his chest. After a while, she got up slowly and walked towards her wardrobe.

“What are you doing?” He asked, without opening his eyes.

Petra winced a bit after realizing he wasn’t sleeping. “I’m reaching for a blanket.” She spoke softly. She grabbed it from the top shelves and then proceeded to place the fabric delicately over him.

“I will never understand how you’re able to perform that nicely with these sleeping habits of yours…” Petra turned back to her bed, happy to have been able to grasp another interaction with him. Levi thought of some blunt answer, but decided to keep his pouty mouth shut this time. When they started to work together, he often had found himself feeling guilty for snapping at her automatically, as a result of his defense mechanism. With the passing of time, he had grown to behave himself around her, for he had learned that her words never intended to harm him.

xxxxxxxxxx

Hours passed, and they were finally able to get some sleep. Before long, the dawn light began to shine through the window, awaking Levi. Without making any noise, he checked on Petra once before leaving her room.

He started his routine going downstairs. On his way, Levi passed the commander’s office. He knocked softly on the door before entering, and saw Hange hiding a bottle in the drawer.

“A tough night for you too?” He asked, pretending to not have seen it.

“Yeah, I guess…” She was visibly exhausted, and the desk was a whole mess. “Erwin kept this place much more pleasant. Wonder how he did that… “ They laughed, incorporating themselves. “Anyways, what’s the matter?”

Levi approached the desk and sat in front of them, letting Hange know that he accompanied them in their turmoils.

“Yesterday, Eren and Petra met. I listened to them from a distance, and it seems that they were able to see something, from the future. Petra told me she saw Eren eating her.” Hange stared at him very seriously, with their hands covering their lips.

“Well… At least she’s talking to you. Eren hasn’t muttered a word so far about these memories. He might say something once in a while, but he surely is keeping more to himself… Is she alright?”

“Yes. She’s willing to do it.”

“You weren’t in your room last night.” Hange said, sending rushes of cold down Levi’s back.

“I kept taking care of her. At first, she was very upset, and I feared that she was going to do something about it on her own.” He said, keeping his serious expression.

“We both know you trust her better than that.” Hange replied, leaning towards him once more. “I need to be able to keep trusting you too, Levi, so please, don’t keep things from me. If this is too much for you, tell me.”

Levi’s small eyes opened. He lowered his head, realizing that Hange needed him as much as Petra. He knew he could share everything with them, but there were things he was afraid to admit even to himself.

“Don’t worry. We’re both just a little tired. You can count on me.” He told them.

“Glad to know it, because I am thinking about trying Petra’s titan... We will ask for her consent first, of course. There’s a chance that they don’t even know much about her powers either. After all, why wouldn’t they transform one of our soldiers if not as a guinea pig. We should take the lead, and find out for ourselves. We might need her abilities later.”

Levi remained in silence for a second… “What if she gets fucked up?”

“Eren will devour her, and her vision will come true... But now that she has seen her death, she might be able to tell us if he ate her as a human, or as a titan. That way we can make sure she will be able to come back. If she saw something that might indicate this will fail, we’ll drop the idea… So, will you ask her, Levi?”

Levi’s jaw clenched, knowing that this might save her later on, or kill her right away. “I will talk with her.”

“Thank you, Levi. I feel like shit for asking you to do this.” Hange sighted.

“Don’t worry. If Petra hasn’t lost her conviction after all of this, she probably never will.” As he said this, Levi headed out the office.

xxxxxxxxxx

Petra’s head hurt a bit from all the crying. Her mornings were still hard, but she tried her best to keep on doing her little tasks. She was in the communal dining room when Levi entered. When she saw him, she automatically suspected something was wrong. His gaze was grim, and his hands were hidden in the pockets of his long uniform raincoat, something he always did when he got nervous. Petra had learned to read his gestures a long time ago, and she loved to get a little head start on that.

“Good morning, captain Levi. Were you able to rest a bit?”

“Yes…. Good morning, Petra. We need to talk. You’re going to rejoin us.”

“Oh! Oh…” Petra’s body tensed as she cracked the meaning behind his words. “Were you able to find something out?”

“No… But Hange asked me if you'd be willing to test your titan regardless. We’re pretty much ready, we just need your consent, and to know exactly what you saw in your vision. When Eren ate you, were you a human or a titan?”

“Human.”

Levi sighed, half relieved. “Did you see anything that might indicate to us that it might take place during the test?”

“You’re planning for him to eat me if I fail?”

Levi realized he wasn’t putting it correctly. By hiding the nasty parts, he made it seem as if he was lying to her.

“No. That would only be if you aren’t able to come back. Let’s say, if your body gets fused with the titan. That’s why we want to ask for your consent first, and to know in more detail what you saw.”

“Then I should be the one making the questions, don’t you think? You tell me what you have in mind, and then I tell you if it fits with my vision. Altering details only to not make the scenery match, won’t change anything.” Petra sounded heavily decided. She was applying his advice, and was thinking about not giving her life away that easily.

“We have been exterminating all the titans left outside these walls. We’ll be going outside soon, and you will be joining us. We will take the chance there to try your powers in the open. If you go berserk, I will take you out myself. If you can’t be taken out, Eren will eat you. That’s the deal.”

Petra took a deep breath. “I will do it. It doesn’t match.”

Levi’s shoulders softened a bit, hoping for her to be right. She hadn’t doubted for a second.

Petra raised her hand and looked at it from up close, remembering when she tried to imitate Eren by biting it. She did it so hard, she left a mark in there for days. She couldn’t have imagined back then...

“When are we going, captain?”

“I’ll let you know soon.”

She was excited to be back. She was born a fighter, and her body craved the effort, the harsh training. Levi thought of asking her what she had seen exactly once more.

“So… Will I be joining your squad?” She overtook him.

“For now, you might. You’re one of the few experienced soldiers left, and after the recent events, you can be considered a veteran in comparison to the rest. If the experiments carry out well, you might be having a squad of your own.”

Petra took a few moments to absorb his words. Was she going to be promoted? She couldn't help but feel proud, although she was disappointed to think that they weren't going to be as close.

“Ah- I’m surprised. Thank you! I will be doing my best...” She blushed a little, she couldn’t stop talking as a subordinate. She had always been good with teammate work, but wasn’t sure of how much of a leader she actually was. Petra had to start to psych herself up and change her patterns. Was she trustworthy enough? After all, she had died with her squad after pushing Eren to make the wrong choice…

“Do you think people will follow a dead soldier?” She asked him.

“Even the best of them die, Petra. You’re the only one here who has already given her life once, and still you’ve found the courage to fight again. Isn’t that conviction strong enough?”

“Would you trust me, Levi? If I promise you to come back, and succeed with these experiments?”

“From personal experience, promises are no good, but they’re necessary.” He answered, remembering his promise to Erwin of killing the beast titan. He had failed, but hadn’t he trusted him, they wouldn’t have had a chance.

“So yes, I trust you, Petra.”

Her chest rejoiced with pride, she needed to hear that. That was all she needed to redeem herself. Levi looked into her eyes, as she smiled at him, while something else flourished inside him. Petra noticed something on his look, making her cheeks rosier. She was so fascinating at that moment. He couldn’t help but to admire how far she had come since they met. Had she guessed his feelings, Petra would have had another reason to celebrate. To know that he admired her as well…

“Now let's pick up this mess, and then we're going to get your uniform.” He told her, taking a ball of paper some cadet had left over the table and throwing it at her. She was caught off guard, and instead of catching it, it hit her in the chest. She was a bit too thrilled, and failed to realize he didn’t intend to do so. Without losing a glimpse, she threw the ball back at him.

“Hey!” She said as the ball hit Levi’s shoulder. Amused by her spontaneity, he took it back and threw it once more at her. At this point she was cracking a bit, and continued to throw it once more, but he caught it close to her hand. They continued fighting for the ball until they were holding hands. His fingertips felt tender on her hand, and he smiled at her. Levi knew he was the first to put up barriers, but it still made him happy to see her overcome them. Petra’s eyes overflowed at his view, letting his smile travel all the way down to her heart.

“Thank you.” She told him, without letting him go.

His thumb moved a bit, delicately caressing hers for a moment. Petra thought it might have been a little spasm, but with the second touch her heart stopped. Her breathing became heavier, as he slowly approached her. They got so co close, she could feel the tips of his bangs raining on her face. That’s when Levi finally kissed her. It was just for a brief moment. Fearing to be seen, he trapped her lips between his, softening her so much that she felt her mind melt into his warmth.

Before Petra could get out of her amazement, he had already pulled away from her, looking away uncomfortably. Her brow furrowed, seeking his gaze back. Seeing his sudden rejection, her eyes began to get a bit teary.

“Didn't you tell me we weren’t going to dwell into this?” She scolded him.

“No shit, Petra.” He snapped in frustration, instantly regretting it.

Two cadets entered the room, leaving them in silence. They were Jean and Connie, whose conversation was cut off momentarily when seeing that Levi was there. Fearing his reaction, they nodded in greeting to the couple, and sat in a corner at the back.

“We should get going.” She told him, trying to hide in her tone the pain he had caused her. They left the room in silence, followed by Connie’s gaze. In the corridor, they crossed more people, being forced to put the matter to rest. Petra followed him through the halls, until they reached the warehouse where the 3d maneuver gears and some uniforms were kept. Their chests ached as they went on with their duty, as if nothing had happened.

“We are in the process of changing the traditional model, some soldiers are already using the new equipment, and you should get into the habit too.” Levi said.

“Sure. I think I can fit myself from here…” She answered.

“Petra...” Goosebumps rose on her skin. “Don’t tell me what to do.”

With those harsh words, Levi refused her false courtesy.

Petra glanced at him over her shoulder, tempted to show her irritation. She thought about stripping down right there. If he wanted to stay so badly, she would change herself in front of him. She took a deep breath, wondering if she really was about to do that.

She took off her woolen cardigan, laying it on the gas tanks. Levi lifted his chin slightly, sensing her plan. However, Petra's shyness prevented her from carrying out such impudence. She made his way to the bottom, and began searching through the smallest straps that might fit her.

Meanwhile, Petra thought she should be thriving. Levi had shown interest in her, and had even gone far enough to kiss her… Back then, she would have been content with his approval, but now nothing seemed to be enough, not with that fire burning in her gut. She couldn't help but feel that a part of her had always been right, it had to be him.

Levi found himself standing alone, not knowing what to do. He had always been able to stifle his feelings. He had embraced the harshness of the world, and turned his loneliness into a useful tool that made him a suitable sacrifice for humanity. He had never been interested in love, nor did he ever become used to human contact, but after all these years, Petra's closeness had made his armor tremble. Why did everything he did seem to lead nowhere, despite being known as humanity's strongest?

All these years fighting and the recent events were beginning to wear him down, despite having been an example of staunch discipline. What was left for them? Was it too bad to indulge into each for once?

Once Petra gathered her things, she headed for the door. Before leaving, she stopped before him and said:

“I intend to keep my promise. I'll get off the titan.”

#digging up a grave #rivetra #rivetra fanfic #rivetra fic #petra ral #levi ackerman #attack on titan #levi x petra #rivapeto #levitra #snk fanfiction #snk edit

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ghostbustermelanieking · 3 years

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oddly specific memories i have of listening to tma

in honor of the finale, and because i am a sentimental asshole, i bring you this potentially uninteresting and completely pointless list. i'm gonna miss this show a lot

half my original reasoning for listening to the podcast was to motivate me to walk on the treadmill. this did not work. but i did it the first time, when i was going through the trailers and anglerfish, and i remember the room where my dad keeps the treadmill is really dark and the spooky chanting sort of freaked me out

after the treadmill, i ended up listening to the bulk of the first four episodes on the couch, and halfway through i let my oldest cat, winnie, who always lived outside (i know, i was very against actually keeping her outside) in the house. and she jumped up on the couch with me, which she literally never did. (she was very grumpy and not super affectionate.) i had that cat since i was five, and she passed last june, and i really miss her. quarantine kind of gave us the opportunity to hang out with her a lot, because we were home so much. so i'm glad these memories are kind of intersected in my mind. (below: a pic i have from that day.)

my friend sarah relistened along with me the first time around, which was extraordinarily sweet of her, and also led to some interesting interactions. for example: she forgot when it was revealed that sasha was dead, so she accidentally spoiled that for me when i asked when the others would find sasha (and i spent all of season 2 just like. anxiously vibrating over this fact). she also made this post, when i was still in like early first half of season 1, and my immediate thought was "oh no martin is dead." i hadnt even MET martin at this point

back in early quarantine, my mom had this rule that we had to do something new every day (to keep away the depression... ha ha). anyways, all i wanted to do in my free time was sit around and listen to tma (and also watch this show i was into on netflix), so i came up with some lame excuses, one of which was "i'll give myself a pedicure." this led to the memory i ultimately associate with mag 56 (trevor herbert 2) being me sitting out on our roof balcony thing, giving myself a horrendous pedicure

another time, my family wanted to go play tennis, and they brought me along and brought a hammock for me to lay in. there was this excess material from the hammock, and the sun was in my eyes, so i ended up pulling it up and over me to block the sun and creating this ridiculous hammock cocoon thing. one of the episodes i listened to that day? "tucked in."

before i ever started the show, my friend sarah stayed with me while i was pet sitting. i remember when she got there, she'd just listened to 150 and was telling me how freaky it was (she was still trying to get me into the show), and she was like "of course we're staying on a CUL DE SAC." (that was also the weekend she watched us for the first time and was very upset because i slept through the whole thing, which is scary when you're staying somewhere by yourselves.) anyways, i spent the whole show waiting for the scary cul de sac episode

while i was listening to the show for the first time, my step-dad (an artist) started painting an EYE on the door downstairs near my bathroom. a fucking EYE. he didn't finish it til i had finished the show. but still weird!!

i binged like 12 episodes in one day to finish season 4, which is not impressive at all, but it's still my personal record. i just remember staying up late in my dark bedroom (til like.... 11 i'm lame and i go to bed early), listening to like 158 & 159 & 160 and just being knocked on my ass by how good it all was... i was SUPER spoiled by this point, through my own fault, and i knew exactly what was coming, but actually experiencing it was nuts

the second week i listened live was 167, where the public release was delayed by a couple hours by accident. i spent like 20 minutes refreshing spotify, thinking it was broken, before going on tumblr and seeing what the deal was. (and 167 remains one of my favorites of s5 because i remember just going "thank god it was worth the wait.")

this one car ride where sarah and i made some of our friends listen to the first three episodes of the show. it was the middle of the night and we were just like blasting down i40 listening to anglerfish and do not open etc

the night the what the ghost episode publicly dropped was the night after my graduation, and i was sleeping out on the couch in the living room so my grandfather could sleep in a bed. it was super dark, and i am a jumpy person, and i Remember being mildly disgusted with myself because the corny sound effects were actually freaking me out. (i think i mightve actually seen something weird that night, maybe, but that's another story.)

the weekend my parents moved me into college, we couldn't get the cable in the house we were staying in, and we were all sitting around doing nothing, so i jokingly suggested starting tma with them, and they were like ok grace. my step-dad promptly fell asleep and my mom zoned out -- which is probably good, she doesn't like horror and she's super claustrophobic, so it's probably better we never got to do not open

my brief roommate in college talked about how she was into those youtube channels where people just read scary stories, so of course i was like try tma out. so she listened to the first episode on her own, and we were out one night, and she started mag 02 while i went into an ice cream place. she was into it (she kept being like open it, ya pussy) and wanted to keep listening while we went home, and even back in our room. i had only been in town for a couple weeks, and barely knew my way around, but i also didn't want to turn the gps on and be interrupted every five seconds. so i tried to find our way back on my own. it took the entirety of mag 03, and into mag 04, before i did it. so now i will forever associate across the street with all those wrong turns i took in a dark, semi unfamiliar city, trying to get back to our college without a gps

the day of the early drop for 179 was the day i moved back home from college -- a five hour drive by myself. i ended up listening to it on the final stretch of the trip, when i was super tired and it was dark and i knew it'd probably be a crazy episode. just me full blasting down i40, drinking an energy drink (which i never do) through a hole punched in the top, listening to daisy's death

186 early dropped the day after initial u.s. election day (when we still didn't know anything). my mom had set up a "watch party" in the living room with these giant air mattresses, and we all sort of spent the day crowded around the TV watching the numbers. not much of a memory, but i remember sitting on that air mattress and listening to martin's monologue in the midst of that messy week

i had a virtual therapy appointment on the day of 187's early drop, and my dad was home, so i drove to an empty parking lot to do the session in some privacy. i was trying to listen to the episode before the session started, so i ended up listening to the last half sitting in my car, in the pouring rain, just staring at my radio in shock (187 remains one of my favorite s5 episodes)

my friend sarah had just come home for winter break the day 189 dropped, and we decided to listen together, just like driving around in circles drinking coffee and listening and speculating on whether or not that was really martin

i started my relisten right after thanksgiving and was just kind of blowing through fast as i could through the whole of december. i had to go back to college to empty out my dorm, and i went to the beach after, and i ended up listening to mag 11 while just like walking around in circles in the tide pools. the closer it got to christmas, the more christmassy i wanted to keep things, so i would like. listen in the mornings and turn on one of those Netflix fireplaces and get all cozy

my other friend went with me on a mini bagel road trip in december, and he was still trying to get caught up, so we listened to mag 169, 170, and 171 on the drive home. (by this point, i was accustomed enough to s5 and smiting scenes to automatically reach for the volume controls when jude perry and jared hopworth died.)

when i relistened to mag 47, i was sitting with my cat beezus. i paused the episode to write this big long meta, so i was in a different headspace when i pressed play again. jon immediately yelled for sasha and i immediately jumped, and beezus gave me a searing glare and just got up and left

i relistened to piecemeal while i was cooking, which i thought was kind of funny and also disgusting

after christmas, i got into the habit of bringing my cat georgia into my room in the mornings, and she'd crawl under the covers with me while i listened to tma

one story i've always liked to tell from my first listen is how when i first listened to the meat arm grinder episode, my dad asked me to help him cook hamburgers later that day and explained how hamburgers are ground up (to my disgust). i hit meat grinder in my relisten and um. you'll never fucking guess what i made for lunch that day

so i had all these arbitrary rules for myself when i started tma last april, and i've broken like all of them. i started listening to tma while virtually working -- you just pull it up on your computer and it works. (i got the life scared out of me when one of my coworkers started talking over the podcast, wondering who it was that had walked into jon's office and why he wasn't reacting and why i didn't remember it.) i also started listening a lot while driving, which led to several long meta posts i wrote being typed up in a parking lot somewhere

i spent the entirety of 194 anxious-cuddling georgia. (i tried to do this for 198 and then didn't have any anxiety to cuddle her over.) i fully plan on doing this for 200, where i am sure i will need it again

my favorite place to listen to tma probably ended up being the roof room at my mom's, and unless something goes awry, this is where i will listen to the finale. (with georgia, of course.)

this list is super uninteresting, like i said, but here it is. i'm gonna miss this show a lot. i can't wait to return to it, later in life, and make all new listening memories in the process

#the magnus archives #personal #food mention tw #pet death tw

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sleepyboisinc · 4 years

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soo,,, the secret au huh?

its a band au. its a fucking band au. im posting this super impulsively, and it has no editing i think so if there are any mistakes,,,, fuck it idc

also this ends in a sort of cliffhanger i was gonan write more but i got tired of writing and never got the motivation to again im sorry lul

this au isnt just by me, theres other ppl involved in it too!! mainly bad timezone gang in technohive but others also helped :)

anywaysyysyshdhsh yea read if u want to ig

wilbur soot was discovered by a record label when he was 15 after he wrote the squid song. they didn't care that the lyrics were objectively bad, it was wilbur’s voice that grabbed their attention. they interviewed him and decided that they were gonna give him a chance. wilbur, who had always dreamed of being a singer, jumped at the opportunity. the interview went very well. they even asked him to sing a few songs and he nailed it. however, he wasn’t perfect. he still needed some vocal training. they spent an entire day discussing and signing paperwork. the label ended up arranging for wilbur to attend music classes to enhance his voice and get better at the guitar.

time-skip about 3 years. wilbur is 18 and is phenomenal at singing and the guitar. he starts going to uni and meets his roommate, an american student named technoblade who plays the violin. wilbur and techno quickly become friends, bonding over music and other mutual interests like video games. techno plays mini gigs on the street and at bars close to campus to make some money for himself. particularly at a little bar called “the harpy’s nest”

one day, wilbur gets bored sitting at home alone, so he goes to watch techno’s gig. he arrives halfway through the set and watches for about 5 minutes. after the gig is over, he watches as techno interacts with the bartender, a young man only slightly older looking than the two of them. techno notices wilbur and calls him over, introducing him to the bartender, philza. the two immediately hit it off and by the end of the night, they’ve exchanged numbers and a promise to meet up phil’s next shift.

over the next few months, the trio became best friends. wilbur learns that phil plays the drums and has several eps. one ep in particular, “hardcore2” blew up a bit in their general area and phil gained a bit of traction as a musician. the three boys spend most of their time hanging out at wilbur and techno’s dorm, or at phil’s bar. they stay up till ungodly hours playing video games and talking. their other friends dub them the sleepy boys, because of how tired they all are the next day.

however, as the months fly by, the date wilbur is supposed to finish training and write his first songs draws closer. he worries he’s bitten more than he can chew and he wonders if he’s even ready for fame. a month later he is assigned a manager, pete. pete says that his training contract has expired, meaning that he's ready to start writing his album. wilbur says that he needs to think a bit before he starts. pete was about to tell him he can’t have extra time to think because he signed a contract, but seeing the look of stress on wilbur’s face, he allows him 2 days before he starts. wilbur goes on a walk to think. he curses himself for second-guessing himself now. he realizes he doesn’t wanna do this alone. then he thinks of techno and phil.

what if they formed a band? that way he wouldn’t have to do this alone. he’s sure that they'd love to make a band together as well. he goes to them and… they agree. he goes to pete and asks him if they can be a three-piece band. pete says he needs to ask his higher-ups first. wilbur doesn’t hear from pete for 4 days and starts to worry. what if they won’t allow it? it wasn't part of the agreement so they have every right to turn him down. at the end of the fourth day, pete calls him and says that the higher-ups have agreed. they had to choose a group name by the end of 2 days. the trio was over the moon.

this was the start of sleepy bois inc.

their record label wasn’t massive, so the boys took to playing on the streets and in bars to gain some traction. they slowly started gaining recognition and grew faster when they made a youtube channel. they released several eps and a few albums, and gained a following over the next few years.

their first big break came 3 years after the band was formed. they had a decent following, about 50k subs on youtube and slightly less on other platforms. one day, jschlatt from lunch club, a massive boy band, got their music recommended to him on youtube. he’s intrigued and listened to it, and was surprised at how much he liked it. he liked it so much, that he decided to shout them out on twitter.

sleepybois inc’s popularity skyrocketed, and the members of both bands grew close. when lunch club announced their next tour, they revealed that sleepybois inc would open for them. the fans freak out, and many iconic moments and inside jokes form from this tour.

tommy innit was 19 years old and was preparing to become a musician. he was almost done with the 4 years of vocal and keyboard training provided by a record label and had to make a decision: be a solo artist, or join a band. if he chose the band, he has another 2 options: be assigned into a band that already exists under this label or make a new one with people that he knows.

tommy is also a massive fan of lunch club, and sees that jschlatt shouted out a band called sleepybois inc. he likes them a lot and becomes a fan of their stuff too. what tommy didn’t know is that they were at the same label he was training at and were open for a 4th member.

back on the music, tommy ended up going with band. he debated between making a band or being assigned one. after a while, he ended up going with being assigned. he was nervous about this because he'd have to integrate himself into their dynamic and feared that fans won’t like him, but he figured it’d be easier than making his friends all learn instruments.

being assigned a band is a process, so tommy had a couple of months free. during this time, lunch club was on tour with sleepybois inc and tommy got vip tickets to a show. so he went to the meet and greet and gave his number to sleepybois inc saying ”hmu if u need a keyboardist lul” as a joke (this is a very important detail i will include it f u)

so come around the day of tommy getting assigned. he has to do auditions for the bands that the record label selected for him to join. management has narrowed it down to the youngest 2 bands at their label who are open for a member: one of which is sleepybois inc.

it had been a month since tommy interviewed for sleepybois inc. he did pretty well at it, and had been talking to the boys a lot since then. he still hadn’t had news on whether he joined though.

it was 3 am. tommy had been working on school work for hours and had only just managed to finish up for the night. he settled into bed and was about to fall asleep when his phone rang. not bothering to look at who was calling, tommy picked it up

“who the fuck is calling me at 3 in the morning i swear to god-” tommy whispered angrily.

“tommy?” wilbur’s voice rang out “wait shit- this is probably a really bad time im sorry. but we have something important to tell you.”

tommy’s eyes widened.

“we’ve decided that you can join the band”

the band and their label spent a few weeks discussing how they would go about this. they boys decided they would need a name change too, and ended up settling on the name ‘purple pandas’. however, a new member and a name change would practically transform the band completely, so they had to go about announcing this the right way.

they ended up settling on posting a youtube video titled ‘making some changes’. seeing the announcement for this sent fans into a frenzy, frantically tweeting about what it could be. many rumours spread fast and it even got into a few news articles. conspiracies started floating around about what changes could possibly be taking place.

i cant write this shit no more bye

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unsteadyimagines · 4 years

Text

Deceitful (Spencer Reid x Reader) Part 1/2

SUMMARY: Spencer helps Amanda (a recovering victim of domestic violence rescued by the BAU) by spending time with her, which makes Y/N mad because he barely had time to spend with her originally because of his job. Now, argument after argument, Y/N has suspicions Spencer’s intentions may not be so pure after all.

WORD COUNT: 1.9k

WARNINGS: N/A

NOTE: This is my first time ever posting any of my writing so please bear with me!! I also have to thank @moonlit-martyr for giving me the motivation to start writing again!!

***Feedback is always welcome for future improvement!

-------

“Hey, Emily long time no see,” you smile, walking through the entry of the BAU, hands full with Spencer’s lunch which he had left at home early this morning.

“Hey, Y/N it’s been so long, what are you doing here?” she asks, grabbing stacks and stacks of what I assume are new case files, once again reminding me of their hectic and highly dangerous job.

“I just came to drop off Spencer’s lunch; he left it at home again this morning. Do you know where he is?” You ask curiously. Emily’s face drops slightly, but enough for me to notice her change in demeanour. She looks as if she’s struggling to come up with an answer. Being in the FBI, you’d think she would be a better liar, or at least look more convincing.

“Oh, uh – he’s, um – actually already gone out for lunch… with Amanda. They left about 25 minutes ago,” She says, looking down to the floor. My stomach twisted in nervous knots, feeling both disappointment and uneasiness.

“T-they?” You’re afraid to ask. This was the third time this week Spencer has gone out for lunch with Amanda, and while you usually wouldn’t be concerned about Spencer making new friends, in fact, you would encourage it, this time something felt… different. Amanda was a victim they rescued from a life-threatening domestic violence dispute four weeks ago. According to Spencer, she didn’t have any family or friends left due to her then abusive husband pushing her away from everyone she knew and loved. She has no one.

You let out a heavy sigh, placing Spencer’s lunch on his desk and looking back at Emily, who looks sympathetic. “I know what you’re thinking, Y/N, but this is Spencer we’re talking about. I don’t think you have anything to worry about - he adores you… you know that” She tells you reassuringly. You believe Emily’s words of comfort because deep down, you know she’s right. From the moment you and Spencer met at the college you attend when he was teaching a class, it was a match made in heaven. The two of you hit it off so quickly, getting to know each other and already planning a second meeting before even finishing your first one.

“I know I know, and I understand she doesn’t have anyone right now and I think it’s very considerate of Spencer to help her get back on her feet but… and I may sound horrible for saying this, but… I-I just hope she doesn’t try to take advantage of his kindness and mistake it for something else.”

“Remember he loves you and wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise that, Amanda just needs a little bit of guidance right now, I’m sure you can try to understand that. Being isolated from every person you love for so long by someone who is meant to be your husband, then all of a sudden have everything taken away from you. Not to mention all the physical and psychological pain she must have been feeling.” Emily explains. Maybe I sound paranoid.

You smile at Emily, grateful for her advice.

“Thanks, Emily. I’m just being paranoid. I’m sure everything is fine.” However, at this point, I don’t know who I am trying to convince more - myself or Emily.

“Do you want to come and see the others? I’m sure they would all love to see you again,” Emily encourages, trying to get my mind off of Spencer and Amanda.

Giving her an enthusiastic nod, she leads me to the group, who are smiling and laughing while awaiting another case. As Penelope’s sees me walking closer, she has a huge grin on her face and her arms already out on either side of her for a bone-crushing hug.

It’s been a considerable number of hours since I left the BAU, getting on with household chores before Spencer is due to arrive home. Putting the finishing touches on dinner, I hear the front door open and in walks Spencer in his black suit. He drops his briefcase and bag by the door, walking into the kitchen with a lazy smile written on his face. His long arms stretched out; he makes his way towards me.

“Hey babe, sorry I’m home so late. I got caught up with some last-minute case reports.” He murmurs, wrapping his arms around my waist, placing a delicate kiss on my cheek. At this point, it just feels wrong to accept his loving gestures. Did they still mean the same things from when we first met? Placing the two plates on the dining table, I sit opposite Spencer, not sure how to even talk to him. Do I bring up my concerns? He looks quite tired from work. Maybe I shouldn’t push it on him tonight? Or should I? Do I mention it at all?!

Dinner was awkward, tense and quiet all at once. Only the sounds of metal utensils and glass plates being heard in the room and soft mumbles of delight from Spencer for the food. Spencer sits back and lets out a deep sigh.

“Do you mind clearing up? I still have heaps of work to get done before I go in tomorrow.” He asks, however, I get the sense that it doesn’t matter whether I say yes or no, I will still end up doing it.

“Sure, you go do what you need to.” I get up, grabbing both plates and begin cleaning up for the night. A half-hour later I make my way upstairs to get ready for bed and as always, I pass Spencer’s office. Except this time, I stop in my tracks and take a look inside and once again my stomach is filled with nerves and butterflies, but not the good kind. It’s funny how Spencer has ‘heaps’ of work to get done, yet he’s finding time to message back and forth with whoever he was talking to, and of course, it only took me a second to realise who it most likely was. Smiling and chuckling at his screen was a clear indication it was most definitely not someone from the team, but Amanda.

I desperately want to ask him about her, but I’m not ready to hear the answer. Spencer is the only serious relationship I have ever had, the only person I’ve ever loved. But this isn’t what love is meant to feel like. Feeling constantly on edge, anxious and paranoid. At this point, I’m not certain its paranoia anymore, but my gut feeling. I don’t want to believe that Spencer may be cheating on me. I can’t. I can’t stand this anymore. I make my way over to our bathroom and get ready for bed, leaving room for Spencer when he eventually comes to bed.

I suddenly feel a nudge on my arm. Slowly opening my eyes, I see Spencer’s face hovering over mine in the darkness. 2:25 am.

“What are you doing up still? I thought you would’ve come to bed hours ago.” I groggily ask, trying to make out his features in the lack of light. But I don’t need any light to notice how unconvincing his next words are, and once again, it sends my heart beating profusely.

“I just got called into work, but I should only be gone a couple of hours this time, I promise.” Promise. The word promise is used a lot by him and yet lately, he never fails to disappoint me. I promise I’ll be home early. I promise we’ll get to spend more time together. I promise we can make this work - I promise, I promise, I promise.

Having nothing to say to him, I simply roll over and try to get back to sleep. I hear him let out a sigh.

“I love you” He whispers. That alone threatens tears to brim my eyes. As much as I am hurting right now, I couldn't not say it back.

“I love you too, be safe.” I barely whisper, loud enough for him to hear. In a way, him hearing me say those words makes me hope he feels somewhat guilty if he isn’t actually going to work, but another woman’s house. Her house. But no, of course not. Instead, I hear him pick up his bag, walk downstairs and lock the door.

Sitting up in bed, my thoughts are running a million miles an hour. Where did we go wrong? Did I do something? Does he not love me anymore despite him saying he does? It takes me hours before I am able to go back to sleep, considering waiting up for Spencer to return home but deciding against it.

Opening my heavy eyes, I check to see the time is now 8:30 am. I also notice Spencer’s side of the bed remains untouched. A couple of hours, huh? Around 45 minutes later, I’m sat on the couch engrossed in a book, when Spencer walks in the door - clothes dishevelled and tired eyes. “Hi babe” He yells, walking up the stairs to our bedroom before I am even able to reply.

When he comes downstairs, he sits next to me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders, enveloping me in a warm hug and a kiss on the corner of my mouth. Fuck, I miss this. I hum in delight, taking whatever I can get, which sounds as pathetic as it actually is.

“You said you would only be a couple of hours, not over 6 hours.” You murmur in his chest.

“I know, I’m sorry I just got caught up with the others. Next time I’ll let you know if I run over time.” He assures me. Looking up at him, I can tell he is tired, small bags forming under his eyes. He gives me a lazy smile, pecking me on the forehead before heading upstairs.

“I thought we were going to hang out today? We’ve barely had any alone time together this week or last week,” I asked, turning around on the couch to look at him. He’s only made it halfway up the stairs as he looks at me, groans and looks up at the ceiling.

“Y/N, I’m tired. We can hang out tonight or tomorrow.” He huffs, continuing his way up the stairs.

“Will we though? Because that’s what you said a few days ago, and numerous times last week.” You blurt. It’s not my intention to start an argument today, but if it means I can finally get something out of him instead of endless false hope, then so be it.

Spencer’s face contorts in an annoyed expression, a slight glare in his eyes draining into mine.“Y/N, don’t argue with me. I’m tired and I want to sleep. We’ll hang out later.” He says more firmly. But to me, that isn’t good enough.

“It’s always ‘later’ with you isn’t it?” I push.

“For fuck sakes Y/N we can hang out later!” He yells, his arms flailing up in annoyance. I flinch slightly, taken aback by his sudden change in mood. For however long we’ve been together I don’t think he has ever really raised his voice at me before like he had just now. Sinking into the couch, I succumb to his angry and irritated mood.

“I- okay, sorry.” He didn’t look the least bit apologetic, trudging back up the stairs and into our bedroom. Hot tears slide down my cheeks, my throat tightens as I try to hold down my sobs. I don’t know whether I’m meant to stay here or leave. But where would I go? Deciding on staying on the couch for the time being, I curl up into a ball and shut my eyes, trying to sleep the day away and avoid any more drama.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #dr spencer reid fic #dr spencer reid fics #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fics #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid y/n #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid gif #spencer reid gifs #spencer reid fics #spencer reid fic

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shadybagelsludgecolor · 4 years

Text

Goodbye, Spencer. [Gn!Reader x Reid]

A/N: Hey friends! Back again. I hope you enjoy this one! Its quite short but, oh well. I’m like halfway through writing 2 other little fics so.... hopefully I'll find motivation to finish those soon.

Summary: After a tough breakup, Spencer sees you while he’s on a much needed walk. Will you guys reconnect or separate once again?

Pairing: Reid x Gn!Reader

Rating: PG - no warning

My [short] masterlist can be found here.

Word count: 1.06k

Spencer Reid was thinking about you again. Your brave, angelic nature captivated him. He could get lost in the sight of you. Your eyes, which you believed to be ill-proportioned, were perfect in Spencers. Your hair, which you believed to be too short, looked absolutely amazing to Spencer. Your smile, which you hated, was absolutely gorgeous. He missed you, he lost you. He wanted you back.

In an attempt to hold back the tears, Spencer decided to go for a walk. He loved walks. He was always fascinated with the breathtaking scenery in DC. It’s tall, bright beautiful trees, and cold crisp air all encouraged his sadness to feel broken.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the amiable figure of the one he once loved. It was you.

Spencer gulped. He considered himself to be pretty self sufficient, independent and nice. He was doing fine without you, he convinced himself of this. He can do this. You no longer had an affect on him. Boy, what a lie.

But not even an independant person was prepared for what you had in store today.

The sun shone all-pervading, making Spencer sad. He remembered the way you were so appreciative of the sunlight and perfect days like this. Reaching into his bag, Spencer grabbed the cool cup that he brought along with him; he massaged it with his fingers.

As Spencer grew near to you, he could see the relieved glint in your eye.

As you gazed upon the familiar face, you noticed the changes in Spencer.

His hair is longer. It looks better this way, you thought, his curls are more defined. His eyes are darker, was he loosing sleep? He got taller. How is that even possible? This man was already 27 feet tall. His arms are more toned. He’s been working out, maybe. That thought made you chuckle. Spencer working out. He looks good.

Unsure of how to greet him, you begin with "Hey, long time no see."

“Yeah. What are you doing around here? You live all the way across town.”

Being honest, you really weren't sure why you were here. You were hurting too. You missed Spencer. You thought maybe just seeing his apartment, or the area surrounding it would bring you the closure you needed. Maybe show you that you made the right decision.

“You’re not leaving, are you?” Spencer’s eyes were sad.

“I have to, Spence. It’s what's best for me. I need this time for myself”

“Please don’t go. I need you here. I can fix this. Please, just stay.”

“You know I cant do that. I’m tired of hurting Spencer. You’re hurting me. Let me go.”

You hated doing this. You hoped that it would never come to this. You loved Spencer. You probably will forever. But the problem didn't lie in your love, it lied in his. Spencer loved you, that was a fact, but work came first. It always did.

Special dinners, meeting family, double dates, movies and really most of the things you planned were quickly disbanded after the ping of a text-message. You couldn’t take it anymore. You knew that Spencer couldn’t ignore his boss, you knew that. It wasn't fair to ask him to quit his job either, which is why you decided the best thing to do what break up and move on. You cant spend your life waiting for someone who never shows up. You held nothing against Spencer. You understood why he does what he does. That didn't make things any easier, though.

“It’s better this was. Trust me, Spencer. I am so, so sorry. I love you too.”

“Can you kiss me? One last time? That’s all I ask. Please.”

“Spencer, you know I cant-”

“Please.”

You approached him, red eyes and tear stained cheeks, and pulled him into one last kiss. This kiss was different from the ones you regularly shared, however. Spencer put every ounce of passion his body could contain into this kiss. He thought maybe, just maybe, if he kissed you with all he had, you’d realize the mistake you’re making. You knew you were going to miss this. The way your lips moved perfectly. The way your heads fit perfectly into each others. You were going to miss Spencer, but you had to be selfish for once. For your own good.

After what seemed like forever, you separate the tear-filled kiss. You could've swore you heard a small whimper escape Spencer when you broke the kiss.

“I Love you.”

“Goodbye, Spencer.”

“Hello? You okay?”

Your eyes are met with Spencer’s hand as it waves in front of you. You must've zoned out. You felt tears line your eyes, and you remove your fingers from your lips. You didn't even realize they were there.

“Huh- Uh, yeah. Sorry. What?”

“I had asked what you were doing over here.”

“Oh. Um, I’m not sure. I missed it over here. There’s pretty trees here.”

“Theres pretty trees everywhere. We’re in DC.” Spencer looked back, even more sad and still fingering the cool cup. "I wasn't ready to say goodbye. I miss you. I know you miss me too. Why else would you be around here? Give me another chance" he replied.

You looked at each other with torn feelings. Everything he was saying was correct. You did miss Spencer, but being here only reminded you of why you left.

Spencer studied your face, looking for even the slightest micro-expression to confirm his theory. Eventually, you took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry," you began in apologetic tones, "But I cant go back to that life Spencer. Never knowing when you'd be home, if you’d be home. I just cant. I hope you can understand that. I know that won't I will love you forever, I just think maybe we were put together on this universe at the wrong time, which is why we have to go our separate ways. you met me at a weird time in my life Spencer Reid. Not a day goes bye where I wish it was different, I promise you that. Please forgive me."

Spencer looked in love, his emotions raw and completely exposed. You could practically hear his heart shatter into a million pieces.

“I do, I understand. Goodbye”

“Goodbye, Spencer.”

And just like that, it was over.

#OOOP SAD SPENCE #sorry I am just in the heartbreak mood #this also probably sucks #so im sorry #but yeah enjoy my babies #fic #Spencer Reid #Spencer x reader #reid fic #reid #spencer reid #Criminal Minds #mathew gray gubler #mgg #gubler

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katsukari · 4 years

Text

Falling Chapter 1/Prologue- No Time To Die

~akari aizawa, niece of japanese pro Eraserhead, is a sixteen year old pro in the US via an accelerated program. things have not gone to plan, and she finds herself in a toxic work environment. when her contract comes up, so does a better offer. now all she has to do is make it through her last week of work at the office, right?

pairing: bakugou x akari aizawa (oc)

word count: 3.1k

genre: for this chapter, angst

warnings: swearing (i’m pretty sure??), fighting, so violence, and i think that’s it for ch.1.

Alright, so this is the first chapter of my fic Falling. I posted about any interest earlier, but if you guys don’t know my writing style or anything about the story, how can you be interested? So, I figured I’d post this to give people a feel for the situation. I will say, there are no BNHA characters in this chapter, so I will probably post ch.2 tonight as well so you guys get a feel for them too! This chapter was just to give some background into Akari’s character and situation!

Akari Aizawa

Hero Name: Nocturne

Age: 16

Quirk: Heightened Senses- In the dark, her senses of smell, hearing, and touch are amplified, allowing her greater speed and strength.

Affiliation: US Pro through an accelerated program.

Birthday: 11/18

Height: 165.1 cm

Likes: Sweets

The mission had not gone to plan, and as it always seemed to be, Akari was the one paying for it. Her face remained respectfully blank as her supervisor yelled at her, while her partner stood by, failing to mention that it was his mistake that had caused the corner of the building to collapse, harming more civilians. It had been this way for months. Any and all mistakes were hers, and the person who once meant so much to her was cold and distant. At first she would fight back, if you could consider telling the truth fighting, but her words fell on deaf ears. It became clear, her higher-ups had an agenda, and she was not a part of it. Thats why, last month, when her contract came up for negotiations, she decided to go elsewhere.

She had to get out, and that is where her mind dwelled as she half listened to her lecture. Her parents told her she wasn’t the same, she was quiet, far off, she struggled to get up and go to work every day. It was difficult to motivate oneself to go where they were certain they weren’t wanted, by anyone, even people once considered friends. When she wasn’t distant, she was irritable, or one wrong interaction away from a breakdown, it wasn’t healthy.

A hand suddenly grabbed her by the hair, “I asked are you listening Nocturne? When I ask a question I expect an answer!” the hero barked, jostling her. This sudden action startled her companion, Shadow. He opened his mouth to say something, but Akari saw him close it and look away.

Knowing she only had a week left at the agency gave her courage, that or she was just pissed off. Grabbing the wrist of her captor she dug a nail between its veins and tendons, and dug hard, forcing the hand gripping her hair to come free. “I was not listening.” Her voice was chilly in contrast to the fire that blazed in her stomach. “Nor will I listen to anything else you have to say to me, so if you wish to keep talking to two people who aren’t listening to you, be my guest.”

The hero glared at her, “Fine, you are dismi-” But Akari hadn’t waited for his dismissal. She was halfway to the locker-room when someone caught her by the elbow. “What was that back there?!” Shadow demanded. “You could have gotten written up, striking a superior, insubordination, that’s not like you.”

Suddenly the fire within her spiked, “I’m glad you care all of the sudden! Where have you been the past hour and a half? Or the past six months, as a matter of fact!”

“I- I don’t have any excuses. But your contract came up last month, they could choose not to keep you here,” he said softly.

“It’s not a matter of whether or not they want to keep me. I had a better offer come up. I’m not staying here one second longer than I have to.”

“But your lawyers will be caught up in releasing you for months- Wait you’re leaving?”

“That’s what I said.” Akari gently pulled her elbow from Shadow’s grasp and resumed her walk towards the locker-room. He hopped sidelong to catch up with her and grabbed her by the shoulder. “You know, I’m getting really tired of people touching me right now. Can’t you tell I just want to go home?”

“I’m sure- but where are you going? Where offered to take you that made them decide to let you go, because we both know they have iron grips on us accelerated kids. Who is it? It can’t be good.” For the first time in months, genuine concern was etched into his dark features. It was enough to make her heart wrench. Couldn’t she stay? Just for him? She could survive here, if only he looked at her with that much care all the time.

No. No she couldn’t, she couldn’t trust him, he hadn’t been there for her in months. Shadow, her partner, once her closest friend in the world, hadn’t spoken this much to her in ages. “Oh, it's nowhere where I’ll gather fame and notoriety, they made sure of that, I won’t draw much attention, but it's somewhere good. But I can’t tell you. I can’t tell anyone yet.”

“I know you have no reason to, but, you can trust me,” Shadow said, his voice low and comforting.

She was about to say something, but she never got to finish. There was a loud crash, and the building shook, driving heros, sidekicks and secretaries from their offices into the hallway. Over the PA system a voice called out “Shadow and Nocturne, you’re up…”

At least she could count on Shadow in the field.

Crouched behind a police car, Akari pulled her goggles over her eyes and gave Shadow the sign for good to go. They slipped into the second burning building they had been in that day, and began to gather people and shepherd them to safety. They worked quickly and quietly, helping civilians out of their apartments and to the safety of the street, they were fortunate that the building only had four floors, but they had found no trace of who or what caused the explosion inside. That was until Akari heard a struggle inside one of the apartments on the fourth floor.

She listened hard to make sure there was no one else left in the building, and she knew she and Shadow should make their exit soon, the building wasn’t safe, but she had to check this first. Waiting quietly by the door she signed to Shadow, “There’s a person in this apartment, sounds like they’re struggling to do something. I need you to back me up once everyone else is out.” He nodded, helping the last person down onto the fireman's ladder. Slipping through the shadows, he stood behind her, ready to go.

As quietly as she could, she eased the door open onto a man in a fireman’s mask, knelt over a safe stuffing a duffle bag full of cash. The explosion had been a diversion to cover up the robbery.

Glancing over her shoulder she jerked her head forward, and began to slip into the room, Shadow following close behind. Once she was past the door it slammed shut, alerting the crouched man to their presence. Akari almost turned her back on the man in the mask to see what shut the door, but thought better of it, Shadow had her back, he could handle whatever was there.

“This can end here. Leave the duffle bag and come with us and there won’t be any need to fight,” she bargained.

“Us? I’m afraid you’re mistaken, your friend left as soon as mine showed up.” the man in the mask rasped.

Before she could turn to check, something hard and sharp slammed into the tight muscles between her neck and shoulders, driving her to her knees. Bracing both hands on the floor in front of her, her head began to spin, her stomach cramped, and she broke out in a cold sweat.

Forcing herself to her feet she shoved her goggles around her neck to see what, or rather who, had forced her to the ground. A tower of a man stood next to the mask, he had to be over six and a half feet tall, well muscled, and dressed for a fight with thick soled combat boots, leather gloves and a belt laden with a number of things that Akari couldn’t recognize. In one large hand he carried a small pouch that he tossed in the air, before fastening it to his belt. Pulling her goggles back up, Akari braced herself, ready for anything.

When the police asked her how the fight started, she couldn’t remember, just that she found herself staggering around the burning apartment, blocking and trading blows with the tower man. The man in the mask tried to slip through the door, and stumbling, slipping between full and normal strength, she landed a kick to the jaw, sending him crumbling to the ground. The tower man then sent her head first into the wall. Using it as a support Akari sent herself barreling at the man, raining punches at different strengths. When one of his blows knocked her off balance she twisted her leg to ground herself, then brought a leg up and out, hitting his stomach, pulling it out of the way before he emptied his dinner onto the ground.

This made him angry, Akari told the police, only later realizing how dense she sounded. The tower man lunged at her, lowering his center of gravity, allowing Akari to bring an elbow down hard on the back of his neck, sending him down into his mess. Sprawled in vomit, the man growled and stood, wiping his hands on the clean parts of his shirt.

The lull in activity had not been good for Akari. Her head was spinning faster now, making it difficult to focus and keep her senses from being overwhelmed. The sounds and smells from outside began to creep into her mind, mingling with the crackle of fire and crumbling walls and the acidic smell of bile that affronted her nose. The tower man slammed into her, she hadn’t heard him move, and she went through the door. Standing over her he waited for her to get back up, but she didn’t. He left her, unconscious, among the burning rubble.

She woke up, she didn’t know how long after, and it felt like her skin was crawling. Lifting her goggles so she could see was the only way she could get out, but her eyes never focused. She clutched one burned arm with a bruised hand and stumbled over to the windows, there was an open one, she knew it, but the windows wouldn’t stay put. The last thing she remembered was the sound of shattering glass and the sound of someone screaming “There she is! Quick, someone catch her!”

XXXX

Akari knew where she was based on smell alone, cleaners, disinfectants, and rubber. But there is also the smell of lavender and vanilla, her mother's perfume and citrus and sandalwood, her father's cologne. She was in the hospital.

Opening her eyes was harder than she thought it would be, they were dry and heavy, and sleep seemed to seal them shut, but after squeezing them once or twice she was able to force the lids apart. Looking first at her arms she found they were covered in bandages, down to her wrists, and there was an IV in her hand. Shakily she reached for her glasses sitting on the nightstand so she could see the rest of the room.

“Oh! Takashi, look, she’s awake,” her mother said, elbowing her sleeping father. “How are you feeling dear?”

“Terrible. My head aches, and everything hurts.” Akari sat up, feeling her muscles protest every move she made.

“I’ll go get the nurse.” Amara placed a warm hand over her daughters and stood, making her way out into the hallway. She returned a few moments later with a young man named Nathan who changed out her IV fluids, which unfortunately did not have something for her pain, and talked with her for a short while, then told her the doctor would be by soon. In the meantime he encouraged her to try and eat something, and take fluids on her own.

That was no problem, drinking at least, her mouth was stone dry. She was in the middle of the broth her parents ordered for her when the doctor entered and spoke to her about her injuries. A few cracked ribs, a sprained wrist, second degree burns on both arms and one leg, and she had stitches where the tower man first struck her. He had cut her with some sort of blade and left behind an implant that drugged her; the doctors had discovered it on her x-rays. They could have someone with a healing quirk do more for her once they were sure the drugs were out of her system the next day, “The cocktail he gave you was pretty nasty,” the doctor said. “We just want to make sure everything is all clear before we move forward with treatment.”

Akari just nodded, so long as she didn’t stay like this all week, she would be alright. The police were in next to get her story, apparently they caught the two men three blocks from the fire after she fell from the window. Shadow had identified them. She had to admit, that stung. He abandoned her, but stuck around to help make the arrest? Couldn’t he have run all the way away like a true coward would have? Or, at least like a coward without an agenda she thought bitterly. Though, bitter was hardly the word to describe the way Akari really felt about it. Betrayed, was more like it. In the office she knew he wouldn’t be there for her, but he had never, never left her like that before. What was worse was that they had faced worse foes than the tower man together before, but it had always been together. The last piece of Akari’s heart that held onto Shadow was broken.

She refused to see him, or anyone else from the agency while she was in the hospital. It hurt, every time he called asking to come up, but it would hurt more to see him. That was another two days. Then she had a day off, which she spent ignoring calls and texts from him, and sleeping. Akari from six months earlier would have rejoiced at seeing his name come up on the caller ID, but the Akari of now just watched as the screen faded to black. She couldn’t ignore him the next day though, she had to go back to work, at least for the next three days. After that she would be gone.

He was waiting for her outside the doors to the agency, scanning the crowds of people, searching for her face. Akari walked past him straight through the sliding doors. She didn’t have the energy to deal with him this early, it took her an hour of convincing just to get out of bed, using up most of the energy she did have. Flashing her badge to the desk she went through the second set of doors and into the office.

Turning left, towards the locker room, Shadow appeared in front of her. Looking at the floor she saw the shadows of the water jug and fake plants and sighed, dropping her shoulders. Shadow’s quirk allows him to travel through shadows, and become part of it, so he becomes invisible. It's very useful, but also very annoying.

“What do you want, Shadow?”

“I want to know how you’re doing, you didn’t let anyone see you while you were in the hospital.” There it was again. Concern. It made Akari uncomfortable, or, maybe upset, or both? Why was he concerned about her? He was the one who left her all by herself, if he hadn’t left maybe things wouldn’t have been so bad. Maybe she wouldn’t have had to go to the hospital. Akari shook her head, maybe’s would get her nowhere.

“I’m fine, now, can I go change? We have to go patrol in fifteen minutes.” She brushed past him into the locker room.

It was a quiet day on the streets, so there was nothing exciting to keep them busy, just small talk with passers-by and silence. Not that Shadow didn’t try to fill it, but Akari had no desire to speak to him, and refused to fill the uncomfortable void between them.

When their patrol was over Akari was, for once, thankful for the paper-shuffling part of her job. It gave her an excuse to shut herself away in her small office and write up her uneventful morning report in peace. Once finished she began to catch up on the small mountain of paperwork that stared her down from the corner of her desk, all things she needed to finish before she left on Saturday. She had barely made a dent when a knock at her door drew her gaze upwards. It was Shadow. Of course it was, she thought tiredly, who else in this God-forsaken place would it be?

“What? I’m busy Shadow,” she sighed, looking back at the paper she had been reading.

“Too busy to take lunch with a friend?”

Akari desperately wanted to say “Maybe I will take lunch with a friend, when one shows up.” but she knew better, and hurting him wasn’t what she wanted to do. It just went to show how tired she was. She decided on a simple “Yes.” and left it at that.

Shadow took the hint.

Her last two days of work went similarly. Painfully boring and awkward patrol, paperwork, and then, to her surprise, on Friday, a going away party. Something the higher ups made sure to impress upon her that she would not be getting. It made her feel sick to her stomach. What was the point of this if none of them liked her anyway? Nina, a secretary, told her they only found out on Wednesday that she was leaving, and they didn’t even know where she was going. Something she still wasn’t able to tell them. She got cards, and to her surprise, her superiors gave her an upgraded costume. All too kind of a gesture from the people who drove her away, but she accepted it with a smile. Shadow gave her a music box with pictures of them around the sides; it played her favorite piano music. That was a sucker punch.

It filled her with guilt knowing that she fully intended on going to her new location with every fiber of her being geared towards forgetting everything about this place. But why should she feel guilty about wanting to forget people who have made her life such a misery? At least that’s what she told herself, but it never quite set right. The truth of it was that, despite the terrible time she was having now, the first year and a half at the agency was mostly good. She held many fond memories of her time there, and it made her feel even worse about leaving on such a sour note. But come the next morning that's exactly what she did.

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artificialqueens · 5 years

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Halfway Around The World (Witney) - Albatross

AN: Inspired by a request for a Witney fic based off of the Race Chaser quotes “I would fly across the world to see her” and “I would fly halfway around the world”. Or, three times Willam tried to surprise Courtney and one time Courtney surprised Willam (with help from Alaska).

In the spirit of full transparency, I have not been doing well in terms of motivation to write. There’s a lot of factors that have gone into this but for the past few weeks its really been a major struggle because I love to write and have so many ideas that I want to work on and share with you all. I’m trying to work past it and right now the best way seems to just be focusing on one story at a time and of course the one that is of the most interest to me at the moment. Originally I had a schedule planned where I would work on my older ideas first until I was caught up but for the time being I’m gonna try to follow where my motivation is leading me and start on the magical girls fic. Right now it looks like its going to be 5 chapters long plus a prologue just for background purposes. I’m hoping that I’ll have the prologue and first chapter up in the next few weeks but I’m not gonna rush myself or make any promises about the timing until I’m happy with how its turning out.

He told himself he was fine when Courtney announced that she was moving to the UK. Honestly he had kind of guessed that this was coming but it still caught him by surprise with how sudden her decision seemed to be made. It was a little hasty in his opinion but also not his call to make so he simply wished her luck and assisted where he could as she prepared to move overseas.

This wasn’t something entirely unusual with drag queens; follow the money and the fans and right now her popularity was soaring in the UK so why not stay there and ride it out as long as she could?

Willam understood that logic; that’s what prompted his own move to LA after all but still…it hurt that she hadn’t really talked with him about it beforehand…and he had to admit; it was going to be quite a change not to be able to go over to her apartment whenever he wanted. Not that he was that frequent of a visitor anyway with their own conflicting schedules most of the time but it was nice to have that option available.

The first few weeks after her departure continued on as they normally would have; he was booked and busy and hardly gave her absence a thought. There was no point; they were still texting and calling just as much so it was almost like she was still living in the US. The moment her move really hit him was following a return from a successful but tiring string of shows and his immediate thought upon returning to the city was to go see her. Despite her grumbling she would always let him into her apartment (he had the door code after all so why not let him inside?) where he’d plop down on her couch, pick at some of the vegan snack she’d undoubtedly be eating, snide comments to follow, and the pair would catch up on whatever they missed since the last time they saw one another.

It was so routine that Willam was already in the car and five minutes away from his home before he recalled that she was no longer in the city. A wave of unknown and confusing emotion swept through him but he quickly pushed that aside and continued driving instead towards the grocery store. He was already heading that direction so why not make the most of his trip anyway now that visiting Courtney was out of the question?

As the weeks turned into months, Willam still thought he was handling the separation rather well. He was spending time with other friends, Alaska most of all, so there was always a distraction when he needed one. One of his particular go-tos happened to be their new podcast; still a baby in terms of the amount of episodes they produced but it was rapidly taking off with the fans. And it was something else to focus his attention on in his down time. In some cases he and Alaska were able to record in his studio and he had to admit it was nice spending time with her. Although they were technically working it never felt like that; they always kept things light and easy-going so the hours simply flew by.

More often than not after the recording was finished she’d end up staying long after the rest of Willam’s employees had left and they’d either smoke and chat or find somewhere to eat. It was during one of these sessions that Willam was forced to face an unsettling truth.

Somehow their lazy conversation had turned to how Courtney was doing and being the one that was most recently in contact with her, Willam felt obliged to fill in the blanks. He scrolled through her messages as he recounted all of the things they shared with each other either verbally or through text and proceeded to show Alaska nearly every picture that had been sent to him. An amused smile rested on her lips as she listened to him run through his gushing with an almost child-like enthusiasm until he finally reached the end of all the possible updates he could share.

As soon as there was a lull in his speech, Alaska stated matter-of-factually, “You miss her.”

There was no question in her tone, no hesitance; just her telling him something that he ought to have known all along. Those three simple words caught him by surprise and like a flood gate opening, he felt a sudden clenching around his heart. He tried to examine his feelings as objectively as possible but only one conclusion was ever reached. In a vaguely pensive and distracted voice, he agreed, “Yeah, I guess I do.”

For the remainder of Alaska’s visit he firmly pushed aside any other talk or thought of Courtney. However the same couldn’t be said when he finally returned home that night. Once he was finally alone, there was little he could do to prevent his mind from drifting back to the older blonde. The more he thought about it, the harder it was to deny that for awhile now he had missed her far more than he’d ever admit, even to himself.

For so long he had refused to even entertain the thought of it that it finally took Alaska setting him straight before he fully understood the reality of his situation. He had to face facts; he missed Courtney…a lot…and right now, he was able to use work and friends to keep himself distracted but how long would it be before even that wasn’t enough?

He honestly didn’t want to find out.

*******

A simple solution presented itself in his mind; if he missed her, why not go see her?

It was all very logical, at least on paper. Throw in their career commitments and the actual amount of distance and suddenly the situation became a lot more difficult…but not impossible, he argued.

With little persuasion needed, he convinced Rhea to join him on a short touring sprint throughout the UK. He wasn’t sure where exactly Courtney was staying but by hitting some of the major cities he hoped one of them would end up being close. It all seemed to be perfectly planned in his mind; he advertised the dates a bit more heavily than he normally would, knowing that eventually Courtney would see it, and let his mind rest easy until the time came to actually depart for the airport.

But it was odd, he noticed.

He would have thought by now that she’d have mentioned the shows at some point during their conversations. Yet she remained silent on the topic…Perhaps she was planning to surprise him…No, she couldn’t keep that a secret even with an ocean separating them.

By the time the plane landed in the UK, Willam decided he had done enough pondering over the subject and figured he might as well just ask her upfront if she would be coming to any of the shows. For the rest of the afternoon he was checking his phone almost every 10 minutes in the hopes of getting a new alert but nothing that came through was ever from her. Finally about two hours before their first appearance was set to begin, a familiar name popped up on his screen. His heart immediately began racing in his chest at least until he read the opening of unusually long block of text.

‘I’m sorry, Bill. I got a last minute booking for-’

He stopped actively reading after the first sentence, the message was clear enough; she was busy in another country, Spain he thought possibly, but no matter where it was, she wouldn’t be able to attend any of the dates…she just wouldn’t be able to make it back in time.

He waited until well after that night’s show had finished before sending a follow up text assuring her that it was okay, that they’d catch each other the next time but his heart just wasn’t in it. He was angry…with her and himself. He hadn’t directly mentioned anything to her nor had she ever said that she’d be able to attend but it was still all too easy to allow himself to be mad at her. Anything to take the blame off of the pathetic state he found himself suddenly in.

The rest of their mini tour continued without a hitch and eventually Willam found himself calming down. Around the fans it was practically second nature to slip into a friendly, happy-to-be-here mode but as soon as he was alone, he could do very little to hide how miserable he actually was. Thankfully few dared to comment on it and by the fourth day he was at least able to act like everything was all right.

He still talked with Courtney at least once a week but after coming so close to seeing her in person, it felt like even hearing her voice just wasn’t enough. Gradually he fell into FaceTiming her more frequently. If she had any suspicions about his true intentions she never voiced them. Honestly she seemed elated to see him as well, even if it were only through a screen.

Between the two of them, days worth of calls and video must have been accumulated in their ever increasing efforts to stay connected. Willam for one felt a little less lonely during these times but almost immediately after they hung up, when it was only his face staring back at him from a blank screen, more often than not it felt like his heart had dropped to his stomach.

He knew he couldn’t continue on like this for much longer.

He had to see her, but how?

There was a fleeting idea of trying to connect with her in UK again now that she seemed to be stationary there but something always held him back. More than once he found himself pricing flights and hotels but before committing himself to anything he’d always close out the page and step away from his laptop. There was one final instance of this where he came so close, he even had the websites pulled up as he chatted away with her on the phone but yet again an unexpected problem quickly arose.

The conversation began easily enough, Willam was discussing his next sprint of touring; a full 42 days and happened to casually mention that he was thinking of taking a vacation afterwards. A small smile found its way to his lips as Courtney readily agreed with him that it would be well deserved but at the moment when he thought she would suggest coming to visit, she instead interjected, almost as though it were afterthought, that she was about to depart for her own new adventure. This time it would involved a return to her homeland.

As her pitch rose in excitement, Willam’s spirits dropped until it felt like there was a heavy weight on his chest. He missed part of what she said next, other than reminding him to be sure not to mention it to anyone else until she formally announced it herself, but after a brief period of shock he gathered that she would be appearing on some dancing show. It didn’t matter to him what the title was, all that stuck out to him was yet another missed opportunity because he waited too long to act.

On the surface he made sure to keep a bright smile as he congratulated her and wished her luck but in reality he was just barely himself together at that point. He was surprised to learn that he was more than a bit envious at how easily she seemed to be handling their separation. It hardly seemed like it was affecting her at all yet here he was, almost a wreck because he couldn’t see her, couldn’t touch her as he once been able to. Momentarily he wondered how he had become so pathetic, so needy and reliant on her but his thoughts quickly cycled back to their previous tours together. Back then it seemed so common that they would have shared shows every couple of months. And even if that weren’t the case their homes weren’t all that far apart. They could easily stop over for a quick visit between their hectic touring schedules.

In short, he missed that predictability; that no matter how far apart they were, at the very least they’d find their way back to LA and reunite for a few days. He missed his friend with a far greater depth than he suspected he felt for anyone else…and that thought shook him right to his core.

******* Following his revelation of this latest set back Willam was grateful that his new leg of touring was set to begin in just a few short weeks. Anything was welcomed at this point as a form of distraction. Although previously their podcast served that purpose, there were times now when Willam would dread reconnecting with Alaska. She never mentioned it directly but Willam rather suspected that she understood his situation far more than what she’d dare comment on. It wasn’t that she was purposefully avoiding the subject, more like she wanted to give him space as he figured things out.

For months it felt like, he debated on what his next step ought to be. Courtney was doing so well on her show and so long as that remained true, she’d stay put in Australia. But she was so busy aside from dance practice. Willam just couldn’t bring himself to pop over there in the midst of all her hard work. The last thing he wanted was to be a distraction for her…and though he hated to admit it, he was terrified of what her reaction might be. Even now with a screen separating them he still felt so exposed whenever they would speak, like one word would instantly betray everything he’s kept hidden away while talking with her. He just wasn’t sure if he could put himself out there when rejection seemed a very likely outcome.

But finally Dancing With The Stars came to an end and though Courtney and her partner ultimately lost, Willam couldn’t be any more proud of her. Every time he saw her dancing, she just looked so happy and after ignoring the tossing and turning in his stomach, he pushed himself to book a seat on the next reasonable looking flight.

To his surprise as the plane left the airport the following week, he felt unusually calm, almost in the same manner as if he were returning home after being away for several months. The journey was long and he hardly slept yet once he landed on foreign soil he felt more awake than he had been almost any other time that he traveled overseas. Upon checking into his hotel and unpacking his toiletries, Willam’s next move was to call Vanity. If anyone knew where to find Courtney as she gallivanted around the city, it’d be her.

After two full sets of ringing, a surprised and pleased voice answered his call, “Hey, Willam! What’s going on? New order come out alright?”

A smile found its way to his lips as he recalled the last wig he had ordered from her; a truly spectacular piece he couldn’t wait to feature on BeatDown after a few minor adjustments.

“Looks great,” he replied honestly, “Can’t wait to try her out…”

From there the two talked shop for a good 10 minutes followed by a quick session of catching up before Willam found a way to work in the true reason he called. Trying to sound as casual as he could manage as his pulse raced away in his ears, he asked the native Aussie, “You and Court up to anything tonight?”

The response came back all too quick and through the thick accent Willam felt his expectations shatter to bits and pieces, “No, she left two days ago.”

Willam was shocked, barely able to catch his breath as he tried to force his brain to come up with any kind of reply. After what certainly was too long to avoid arousing suspicion, he was finally able to mutter a simple, “Oh…”

“Didn’t she tell you?” Vanity questioned with evident confusion in her voice.

“No, I…I didn’t ask.”

There was another pregnant pause where Willam would swear he could hear the gears turning around in her head. The hand holding his phone was trembling as he fought against the urge to hang up right that second. Finally after what felt like an hour but was barely more than a few seconds, Vanity asked very cautiously, “Willam…where are you right now?”

“I…” his voice broke off as he realized just how vulnerable he had let himself become in those brief moments. No part of him wanted to admit what he done so foolishly but before he could help himself, he heard a voice he barely recognized admitting, “I’m about 20 minutes from your apartment.”

“Oh…baby,” the empathetic words slipped from her lips and shot themselves straight into his heart. His throat was threatening to clench shut as he heard her quickly offer, “Do you want to meet up? Drink or get a bite to eat?”

Tears pricked at his eyes but immediately his hand shot up to rub them away as he replied back in what he hoped was a level tone, “No, that’s…that’s okay. I’m a bit tired.”

“Alright,” she relented, sounding entirely unconvinced of his excuse. “If you change your mind, you know how to reach me.”

“Right,” he agreed with a shaky laugh, “Thanks…”

Before ending the call, he pleaded with her, “Please…Don’t tell Courtney about this.”

“I won’t,” she promised.

He knew he could trust her not to mention anything to the blonde but as for himself? What was he going to do now?

******* With the same bull-headed stubbornness he had come to be known for, Willam forced himself to stay for the full duration of his 'vacation’. It was tempting, almost too much so, to run back to the US with his tail between his legs but pride wouldn’t allow him to give in so easily. He tried to convince himself that he was enjoying his time away from everyone, for once fully cut off from anyone he knew, Vanity included. Though he was tempted to be polite and at least meet her for a quick drink, he was too humiliated to face her in person. All he did instead was exchange a few short texts and sequestered himself away from anyone else.

By the time Willam landed back in LA his mood had taken a sharp turn for the worse. He was angry and mortified and above all, just plain miserable at this spectacularly failed final attempt to see Courtney. He knew himself well enough to recognize that it’d be best not to see anyone in this state but at times it just couldn’t be helped. There were obligations to his career after all but try as he might, he was a bit more snappish with those around him than he would have been under normal circumstances. Most had taken to avoiding him for the time being, except of course for Alaska. She understood all too well what the likely reason was behind Willam’s behavior and finally confronted him after they finished recording the latest episode of Race Chaser.

Without a hint judgement in her voice, she questioned him, “Courtney?”

Willam’s eyes blew wide with fear and embarrassment. He turned away out of shame and proceeded to begin cleaning up the mess they had made during their recording but not before giving a brief, reluctant nod of confirmation.

As Willam kept his hands busy and mind distracted, Alaska tried to work out just what might have happened between the pair. She was sure if they had a fight she would have heard him mention some inkling of it but she had barely talked to him for the last few weeks aside from business, never mind actually seeing-

“Oh,” she murmured in realization. Her heart had begun to break for her friend as she pieced together what he had probably done.

Standing up from her seat, she placed a hand on his shoulder to stop his frantic cleaning efforts and asked gently, “You tried to see her…didn’t you?”

His fingers were shaking and lip quivering as he tried to bite back the flurry of emotion that threatened to overwhelm him. Though he couldn’t bring himself to answer, she already knew she had guessed correctly. Almost immediately she pulled him into a tight embrace and in a truly unexpected fashion he was instantly clinging to her like she was his own life support system.

“I miss her so much,” he confessed quietly as he buried himself into her neck.

A part of him hoped that she hadn’t heard that but soon he felt her hand running across his back while she whispered, “I know…it’s gonna get better. I promise.”

She meant well but Willam just couldn’t find a trace of himself that believed her right now.

******* After his mostly private break down in Alaska’s arms, Willam’s attitude had undergone another drastic development. He apologized to those he had been short with but he was far from the normally happy and campy queen everyone had come to know. A cloud of misery seemed to hang over him despite his best attempts to remain upbeat and positive. It was easiest to pretend at his shows but when he was alone and there was no such reason to put on that mask? Well, he was an absolutely pitiful, soul-crushed mess.

About the only thing that broke him out of that state for even a short while was the time he spent with close friends, particularly his chats with Courtney. He had fallen out of contact with her during his period of misdirected anger but once he had finally snapped out of that phase he was all too eager to resume the same level of communication they arranged prior to his impromptu visit to Australia.

Hardly a day went by where they weren’t at the very least exchanging a few texts back and forth. Their preferred method of speaking to one another was still video chats but with Willam’s touring schedule resuming and Courtney’s own various appointments picking up again, it was harder to set aside solid blocks of time for that activity. Even calls had become shorter but through text they could still maintain a deep conversation spanning across several hours.

One particular night they were following this routine between rehearsals and finally the actual show of yet another live version of Race Chaser, this time gracing the East Coast with their presence. Willam and Alaska had longed to bring the show back to their hometown coast and finally after finding a suitable venue where they could expect a large crowd, everything was arranged and booked.

The show itself was everything they could have hoped for after having so much success with it in the West. The fans loved every second of their banter and antics and special guests. They were sure they’d be bringing the show back for another round sometime soon.

Hours slipped by until the last fan finally left the meet and greet and the queens were able to return to their dressing room. Both of them were eager to check their phones and almost instantly after typing a quick message to Courtney, he found a reply sent back. He figured he must have caught her as she was finishing up her own schedule for the day as well. Like he was in a trance, Willam allowed himself to become absorbed by his phone and the rapid-fire conversation that had picked up with the missing blonde. He was unusually slow as he de-dragged himself but Alaska didn’t make a comment on it. Actually, she didn’t seem to be any particular rush either as she tapped away at her own illuminated screen.

Almost repacked and back in his street clothes, Willam sat down in one of the empty chairs and focused himself almost exclusively on Courtney. Their conversation had reached that lazy comfortable stage that he wanted to last for as long as possible before one of them fell asleep. By this time Alaska looked to be pretty much ready to go but still she didn’t push her friend to hurry along. She almost seemed to be waiting for something, perhaps to talk to the venue staff before arranging a driver to take them back to the hotel.

Either way Willam was happy to lose himself in his chat with Courtney. Just vaguely as he typed away on his phone, he heard the brunette standing up from her seat and swiftly rushed out of the room. No less than a minute after Alaska had exited than Willam felt his phone vibrating in his hand with a new message of 'Do you have any plans after the show?’

He toyed with a myriad of responses in his head, ranging from an utter fucking lie of replying that he would be heading out to find some trade or just admitting that he would probably retire to his hotel room to sleep for the rest of the night but in the end, he only typed back a simple, 'No.’

An almost immediate response appeared on his screen of 'Good,’ but before he could question it any further, Willam heard Alaska reentering the room. Very purposefully she walked directly in front of him with a confident and smug look on her face yet for once she was absolutely silent. Taking the bait with a brow arched in genuine suspicion, Willam opened his mouth to question her cocky little grin but a pair of familiar arms enclosing him from behind instantly shoved any sort of smartass remark right out of his mind.

Even before he heard her voice, Willam recognized the comforting embrace he’d been missing in the past year. Just low enough for Alaska to barely make out, Courtney cooed into his ear, “Hey, Bill.”

There was an unmistakable tone of relief and longing in her voice but that seemed to pale in comparison to the similar emotions that threaten to overwhelm the dirty blonde. Firmly swallowing back the pricking of tears in his eyes, Willam shot up from his seat and spun around to face the shorter queen. She held a sheepish grin as she took a slight step back and waited as they decided what the next move ought to be.

The pair stared at each other in near silence, Courtney somewhat embarrassed by showing up out of the blue and Willam in utter disbelief that the blonde was actually here in front of him rather than just through an LED screen. Sensing the need for privacy for the three, at least for these first few moments, Alaska casually strolled back to the door and promptly shut it from any prying eyes of the staff that might dare to peak in. Nearly the second the faux wood hit the frame, Courtney pushed herself forward to wrap her arms around Willam in a manner that almost made her cringe from how immediately clingy she had already become.

Her voice came out just a bit choked as she murmured softly, “I missed you.”

Of their own accord, Willam felt his arms returning the gesture with almost an equivalent amount of passion but still he couldn’t stop himself from retorting, “Of course you did; I’m fucking awesome.”

******* The reunion lasted no more than five minutes before Alaska announced that she was ordering a car to drive back to the hotel. Immediately deciding to join her, Courtney and Willam packed up the remaining belongings in the dressing room and hastily followed her out to venue’s sidewalk to impatiently wait for their Lyft driver. The only small talk was made between Alaska and Courtney, the former using the brief opportunity to catch up knowing full well she wouldn’t be seeing Courtney again for the rest of the night. Though it was nice to see one of her closest friends in person again, she understood that the elder pair of queens needed this time together more than anything. She would gladly allow them to have the night to themselves while she found other activities to keep herself entertained.

Upon arriving at the hotel, the three began to part ways in the lobby but not before Willam pulled the brunette in for an unexpected hug and very sincere whisper of gratitude. True to her easy-going nature, Alaska merely shrugged her shoulders and walked off towards her room with a pleased smile at a job rather well done.

As for the remaining pair, an aura of heavy tension surrounded them as Willam guided them back to his rented room for the night. Though he tried to maintain an air of disinterest, he felt his body all but twitching with nerves as to what might happen once they were finally and truly alone together. Thoughts raced through his mind of all the things he wanted to say and do but the moment the door had shut behind Courtney and his bags were deposited on the floor, only one thought remained coherent enough to follow.

Courtney allowed her body become entirely malleable against his as he crowded her against the wall with a dazed and distracted look his eyes. She expected him to be forward yet even being so close he still seemed so reluctant to actually touch her. A distinct fear lurked in his thoughts that the second he’d make contact she might slip away from his grasp and it all would be revealed as a cruel and heartbreaking dream. Though there was so much more Courtney wanted to do in that moment now that they were reunited, she remained patient and let him move at his own pace.

Very cautiously, a trembling hand came to rest on her hip until she could just feel the curl of his fingers against the loose fabric of her cargo shorts. Finding that she was still just as solid as she had been at the club, he gradually leant in closer until only a few short inches remained between their lips. He seemed caught between wanting to initiate that contact yet still too afraid to finally cross that last boundary. A silent challenge resonated in her eyes but the most he felt confident enough to do was raise his other hand to caress her cheek as their lips remaining ghosting just a frustrating few centimeters apart.

For almost a full minute they stood like that; each almost too afraid to make any further move that would collapse what little illusion still existed between them. Finally, Courtney raised the hands she had braced in anticipation against the wall and lightly pressed them into Willam’s midsection. His eyes blew wide open in fear that perhaps he was reading the situation wrong or wasn’t moving fast enough for her. But before that thought could penetrate his consciousness too deeply, Courtney suggested in a hushed voice, “Let’s move to the bed.”

Nodding, Willam wrapped a hand gingerly around one of hers and led them in an awkward fashion towards the still made bed. If Courtney had any intention of merely sitting beside him, he seemed largely unconcerned and unaware as he immediately pulled her into his lap. Even being chest to chest with their foreheads resting against one another, the minuscule distance between their bodies still felt like too much space was left. Willam’s hands had returned to their position of clutching at her hips so tightly that she feel every flex and twitch of the muscles in his fingers. Her own hands quickly slipped past his neck and into his hair in a small attempt to prevent him from pulling away from her again. Their lips grazed against one another as she admitted in a pained whisper, “I missed you.”

Unlike before, his response this time was sincere and immediate; a heartfelt agreement of “I missed you, too.”

With those four words Courtney felt an unknown tension drain from her body and a sudden surge of confidence encouraged her to place a light peck to Willam’s lips. The contact was brief but even so it meant so much to the pair, more so than any other kiss they had shared before.

Shortly after their lips separated the dirty blonde confessed in a barely audible tone, “I tried to see you…surprise you, you know…but I was always late…I’d get there and you’d…you’d already be gone…it always happens like that. I’d always just miss you because I took too long getting there.”

The last sentence meant so much more than those few words could ever express yet the emotion that filled each syllable betrayed his true feelings all too clearly. Courtney felt her heart aching for Willam as she recognized the symbolism in both his attempts to see her and in her efforts to see him. Turning his chin up so that he would look her in the eye, she told him, “I tried to see you, too…but I’d get there too early…and then I’d get scared waiting and leave before you knew anything.”

Courtney felt a warmth rising to her cheeks as she continued on in an almost shameful manner, “I showed up at your studio a few weeks after I moved to try and catch you but only Rhea was there…she said you booked a few extra days after your tour to relax for a bit…mentioned that you wouldn’t be back in LA until the following week…She offered to let me stay with her until then but I panicked. I begged her not to tell you I stopped by…didn’t want you to know how much I really missed you or make fun of me for being such a crybaby about it.”

A halfhearted smirk worked its way onto Willam’s lips as he teased her softly, “You’re always a crybaby…”

His eyes shot to the bedspread for a moment before he found the nerve to admit, “I wish I’d been there though.”

“What would you have done if you saw me?” Courtney prodded gently as she cocked her head to the side with the inquiry.

Shrugging, Willam offered a defeated sigh of, “Fix your makeup?…I don’t know. Just…”

“Would you have done this?” the blonde asked as she ran a soothing hand through the messy tangle of curly locks wrapped around her fingers.

There was a painful, pregnant pause as she awaited his answer. He looked wracked with guilt as he finally confessed, “No.”

“Then I’m glad we missed each other since it led to…this,” She replied back with a forgiving smile. Gently cajoling him into looking at her once more, she asked, “But why didn’t you say anything about this sooner? Why’d you let it get this bad? That I had to hear about it from Alaska?”

Willam forced back a guilty swallow as a look of utter shame came to rest on his face. His eyes held a silent answer of 'You know why.’

Courtney nodded her head in an understanding she came to know all too well with her friend. They shared another short kiss before Courtney urged him, “Please…don’t be afraid to tell me next time.”

“I won’t,” Willam promised. Though he meant it to some extent, Courtney knew he was still likely to wait, at least in the beginning, before he’d swallow his pride and admit that he misses her. But that was okay. She could read him better than anyone and with any luck, she could learn to recognize the behavior before it came to this point again.

The dirty blonde’s eyes darted from Courtney to the bedspread and back again as another guilty thought was finally vocalized, “This always happens though…I’m always late…”

“And I’m always early,” Courtney remarked gently. “…Maybe that’s why we need Alaska…to help us meet in the middle somewhere.”

The pair shared a fond smile and finally allowed their lips to connect in a manner they’d been waiting for since the moment they saw each other that night. Every bit of neglected passion rose forth as they allowed their bodies to finally express the emotions they’d kept pent up and ignored for so long. Neither knew how long they stayed in that position, neither cared so long as they could finally touch the other person but eventually the aching of their bodies eventually forced them to move into a more comfortable embrace. Laying side by side, they resumed their kiss for another few seconds until Willam felt he needed to voice one final concern before they continued forward with whatever might develop from this new territory in their relationship.

“What do we do after tonight?” He asked with genuine apprehension and fear. “Your hobby is jumping from one reality show to next on any continent that’ll let your plane land…What’s gonna happen to us?”

Brushing aside the curls that had fallen into his face, Courtney replied confidently, “We can make it work. It’ll take a lot of trust, lot of compromise and a lot of patience but we’ll figure this out….We’ll find a way, we always do.”

Though he’d never admit it, he actually believed her statement with every ounce of his soul. If she believed that this could work out for them, he was more than willing to give it a good, honest chance. It would take a lot of work but if were for Courtney, it’d be more than worth it.

A bright smile of previously unknown size broke out across his face as he finally allowed himself to push aside his pride and admit without any prompting, “Court, I really missed you.”

Returning the gesture, Courtney asserted in equal measure, “I missed you too, Bill.”

#rpdr fanfiction #witney #willam belli #courtney act #alaska thunderfuck #vanity faire #rhea litre #fluff #angst #longing #albatross #canon compliant

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scattered0mind · 6 years

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Missing Notes (Bucky Barnes x Reader one shot) [request]

A/N: Hello again! OMG THANK YOU ALL FOR THE WONDERFUL NOTES ON MY FIRST ONE SHOT I WAS JUST BLOWN AWAY. IT WAS BEAUTIFUL AND CRAZY AND THANK YOU. But this is my first request! I’m hoping I’m doing this right. Please give me feedback and send me request! I’m currently working on one or two one shots on my own but I love to hear from you guys. This is really fun! Thanks again! This is really long whoa.

warnings: fluff, mention of depression and anxiety, disability (dyspraxia)

disclaimer: I do not have this disability and I tried to write it to the best of my ability. I hope you all enjoy it. I also proofed read this like once so I’m sorry for like all my mistakes >.<

prompt: my request for an imagine is that I am really insecure about my dyspraxia and how I can't really do normal tasks like everyone else can, My hands tremor, and my muscles get tired very easy. (Irl I have such a hard time opening bottles and jars, (that's how weak my muscles are, but I work out) I don't want to talk to anyone and I stay in my room but Bucky manages to get me to talk to him about it and does something to show me that he loves me for who I am along with Steve Natasha and the rest of the gang.

BAM!

You don’t think you’ve ever jumped so high before. You turned away from the piano keys to look behind you. It was Sam, he was testing out his new drone and it happened to fly directly into a wall at full speed. He cursed as he ran across the room to get it, picking it up in pieces. You rolled your eyes and tried to get back to playing.

You didn’t understand why he was testing out his new drone in the middle of the common area of the base, you knew it was raining outside but there was also the training room that had higher ceilings. You knew Sam liked to pick on you even though sometimes you wished he wouldn’t. You knew he thought of you as a little sister and you have heard him tease his own sibling the same ways over the phone but sometimes you took what he said to heart. Like when you couldn’t pass the physical field test on the first try….or the second try…or the third. He teased you endlessly about it, probably thinking it would give you motivation but all it did was discourage you even more. You even asked Fury to be taking out field work and put behind a desk.

It wasn’t just because of Sam’s teasing. You had dyspraxia, a condition that prevented you from doing normal tasks sometimes and made you weak and tired. No one knew in the base but Fury and Hill. They needed an absolute reason why they couldn’t have in the field so you were forced to tell them. You were embarrassed by the condition. Who wouldn’t be when you’re surrounded by superheroes and enhanced beings constantly. But they were your family or at least the closest thing you had to it. So in order to stick around you settled for reviewing mission files and presenting research.

You looked down at the piano keys, spreading your fingers to hit the right notes. You played a few before you felt the tremor of your hand and the piano let out an awful note. You flexed your hand, hoping it would pass quickly but as you relaxed it gave a tremor again and you sighed, closing the piano.

“Something wrong?” Sam asked somewhere behind you. You looked over your shoulder and saw him trying to fix the drone before Tony found out from FRIDAY what he did to it.

“No, just got tired all of sudden. I think I might go to lay down.” You said. Sam nodded, watching you as you left the piano and walked into the hallway connected to the common area. You were upset and tired at yourself and just wanted to lock yourself away. What good was knowing how to play music if your own body didn’t allow you too.

Music was a huge escape for you. When you were feeling depressed or anxious it was a great reliever, something you had all to yourself. You felt yourself get more upset at the thought of it. You shook your head as you continued down the hallway to your bedroom. You were the last door on the left. Most of the Avengers lived on this floor with you, Wanda and Vision just started a room, letting Sam move into Visions old room, Steve and Natasha were across the hall from the each other and Bucky stayed across from your room.

You reach your door as Bucky comes out of his room. He smiled a little seeing you. He looked good as always. His long sleeve red henny shirt to cover most of the metal on his arm and dark jeans. His long hair was tucked behind his ears and away from his face.

“Hey Y/N.” He said lowly. You smiled slightly, brushing a loose hair away from your face, you felt it tremor again and clenched your hand, quickly tucking it into the pocket of your sweatshirt. Bucky eyes followed you as you did and you prayed he didn’t notice anything.

“Hey Buck.” You replied, dropping your eyes to the floor. You had a tiny crush on Bucky ever since he showed up on the base. He didn’t talk a lot and when he did it was always quietly. You often found him loitering around the tiny office you work in, reading whatever book Wanda picked out for him to read. You wish you had the nerve to ask him why he was always around the office when Steve and Nat were training or everyone was watching a movie in their down time before a mission. Sometimes you liked to think he was there because he wanted to spend time with you but you guys barely talked when he was there and it was mostly him asking some questions about a pop culture reference or your music (which gave you butterflies).

“You ok?” He asked. You nodded, shifting your eyes quickly to look up at him.

“Yeah, just tired might lay down for a little.” You said, gesturing to your door with your body. He looked at you, his blue eyes confused.

“It’s only 9 in the morning.” He said. “You feel ok?”

“Yeah I’m fine, just woke up too early.” You were lying through your teeth but how could you tell him about everything? It wasn’t like you thought he’d shun you or anyone else would do that but it was embarrassing and you didn’t want the pitiful stares or to be a hindrance on anyone.

Though sometimes you did need help.

And your crush on him would hurt even more if he knew. You already knew Bucky wouldn’t love you like you loved him but you couldn’t even daydream about it if he knew anymore. How could someone so perfect want someone who sometimes couldn’t even open a jar by themselves.

“See you later Bucky.” You said softly, opening your door and swiftly closing yourself inside, leaving a confused and worried Bucky staring at your door.

A couple of days later you were feeling better and your hand wasn’t giving tremors anymore. Though you haven’t really played the piano or any other instrument since then just in case. Though not playing was making you more depressed and Hill decided to unload a mass amount of mission files onto your desk. You could already feel the stress ulcer forming just by thinking of all of them. Other than that things were kind of normal, Bucky still hung around your office, though a lot more as of late, and you try not to blush too much now that he’s taken it upon himself to lean over your shoulder to check on whenever you sighed.

You were typing up a report, when you felt your hand tremor again. You quickly tucked in against your person, flexing it a bit. You glanced at Bucky at the couch against wall, he was sitting hunched over, today he bought in a notebook and his tablet. Lucky he was writing something into the notebook occasionally looking at the tablet and tapping his pen against his knee. You went back to work, or at least attempted to. Every few words your hand would shake, and your eyes already felt like a desert just by staring at the screen for the past 3 hours. You sighed, scooting away from your desk and standing up. Bucky looked up finally after hearing you move. His blue eyes gazing over at you as he closed his notebook and darkened his tablet. Moving them to the side so he could rest his elbows on top of his knees.

“You alright? You look exhausted.” He said. You shrugged.

“Yeah I’m fine, though I might already consider middle age retirement by the time I finish this stack of files Hill gave me.” You complained, pulling your hair into a low bun, halfway through you felt you hand spasm. You winced, pausing but finishing putting your hair in the bun. Bucky was still staring at you and watched you with a raised eyebrow.

“I know it’s none of my business,” He started, looking down at his palms, the pen still in one as he hit it against his metal palm. You shifted uncomfortable not exactly liking where this conversation was going. You knew Bucky was observational and you couldn’t help but notice he was watching you more often these past few days since your guys encounter in the hallway.

“But are you okay? I know I’ve been saying that a lot but you just seem…not yourself.” He said softly, standing up and walking towards you. You crossed your arms over you chest, looking away from him and his all knowing blue eyes. “And I haven’t heard you play music lately.”

Again. You shrugged. You knew you were being closed off and distant. But you could feel the swell of panic in your chest. How could he possible understand what it’s like to be weak while your surround around all these amazing people. You’d rather just deal with everything on your own then admit it to them. You didn’t want to bother anyone, and you didn’t want anyone to feel obligated to help you. Especially if it came to Bucky.

“It’s fine, I just have a lot of work to do. And you’re distracting me.” You said harshly, looking him in the eyes. You immediately felt bad watching his face drop. He clicked his jaw, sighing while bringing his hands to cup your face. Your breath hitched.

“Listen, I don’t know what your thinking or feeling but I am here for you.” He said softly to you. His blue eyes sad with something else lurking behind them though you couldn’t place your finger on what. You nodded, looking away from him. In your experience, you knew everyone always said they were there. But when you finally took down a wall or two for them, they quickly distanced themselves from you. You didn’t want that to happen with Bucky.

“Thanks, I appreciate that but I’m fine.” You stepped back away from Bucky, grateful for the extra space now. He was so intoxicating. You wanted to lean further into and have him wrap his arms around and just spill everything little thing thats been eating away at you. But you couldn’t. “I just have to head downstairs to the basement, I need an old mission report to wrap up this one and Hill didn’t put it in the pile.”

You rushed out of your tiny office as Bucky opened his mouth probably offering to get it for you or at least come with you. Grabbing a sheet of paper with the report number on it before you left. You took took the elevator down to the last floor it went too and you knew you had to take the stairs to go all the way into the basement. After the destruction of SHIELD, most of the old files were of little use, especially when half of them was out on the Internet. Still Fury decided to leave the ones they did have on hand in what basically was a storage space under the training room.

The only problem was the stairs. You stared down the darken steps, biting your lip. It wasn’t the dark that scared you but you knew how physically demanding these stairs will probably be. You could already feel the exhaustion. You sighed, and started down them trying to breath easily and not freak out. You kept the entrance opening hoping the lights from the training room will lit the way for you because the last thing you need to do is fall down almost three flights of steps Finally getting to the bottom, your legs were shaking and your lungs were burning. You didn’t even want to look for the mission report, nor could you think properly about it. You sat yourself on the bottom stair and just existed in the dark and the dust. That nagging voice in your head repeating that this is where you belong in a superhero base. Forgotten about and useless. You tried focusing on playing a melody in your head, humming out the tune but your throat felt tight and your eyes burned with tears.

“Hello?” A voice said from the top of the stairs. You yelped, jumping up as fast as you could while wiping away the tears. “Anyone down here?”

“Yeah.” You replied meekly. It was Steve and you could hear him already making his way down before you answered him. You started looking for the mission report, hoping it looks like you were working instead of actually feeling sorry for yourself.

“Y/N? What are you doing down here?” Steve asked reaching the bottom of the steps. You were leaving through a box of reports, you shrugged in response.

“Working.” You said, keeping your eyes on the box.

“Uh huh.” Steve replied unconvinced. You heard him walk to the table you were at, picking up the paper with the number of the report you needed. “I can find this for you if you want.”

You started to object, but two seconds later he pulled out an old box on one of the higher shelves surrounding you two. He pulled out the report you need quickly, smiling as he handed it to you.

“I come down here sometimes, you know. I like to read Peggy’s old missions.” He admitted sheepishly. You couldn’t help but smile softly at that. You thought it was both wonderful and tragic that Steve still loved Peggy after all this time. They might not have been together for very long but love seemed to last through lifetimes…..and freezing cold water.

“Thanks Steve, but just so you know I could have done it myself.” You reiterated. Steve rolled his eyes.

“You sound like me before I turned into Captain America.” He said, crossing his arms and leaning against the shelves behind him. You rolled your eyes at him, opening the report to look over it.

“You were always Captain America.” You quipped.

“Not always, I was just a kid from Brooklyn too dumb to run away from a fight.” He said grinning, like he was remembering a time before all this super hero craziness. You stared at him for a second, blinking slowly. You turned back to the report, biting your lip as you hands shook a little.

“How did you do it?” You asked quietly. “Back then it must have been worse with everything.”

“I don’t know. I didn’t have much. I just had Bucky.” Steve took a step towards you, his blue eyes drilling holes into you. Seeing through you. You swallowed thickly. Then he said completely serious.

“He was with me until the end of the line.”

That night you sat in your room, thinking about Bucky and what Steve had said. Bucky had stuck with Steve in the 40’s. He looked after Steve, cared for him and never once complained. If anything Bucky complains about Captain America. But not Steve. Not the kid from Brooklyn. When you got back to your office Bucky wasn’t in there any longer. You finished up the some of the reports you had started before heading to bed, tired and feeling down you skipped dinner.

Getting back to your room, you didn’t attempt to play. You just laid face first in your pillow, face burning while remember how Bucky’s hands felt on it. His metal one was cool and smooth against your cheek and you could feel the roughness and callous on his flesh one. He looked good today too, wearing that a black t-shirt that was too tight for it to be appropriate and his hair pulled back into a low bun. You also thought about how open and honest he sounded today while trying to get you in return to be open and honest. It scared you obviously.

But you couldn’t help but feel the weight of everything ease when you even considered telling Bucky.

That was it. Bucky wasn’t going to judge you. He wasn’t going to feel obligated to help you or feel pity towards you. He didn’t with Steve and he wouldn’t with you. He already tried helping you, he would bring you lunch or reach the mug you wanted on the highest shelf. You caught him more than once telling off Sam for teasing you a little too hard.

You liked Bucky. And if you even wanted the chance for him to like you back you had to tell him. It was going to be the hardest thing, but it was the best thing. Getting off of your bed, you pulled on a oversized hoodie and went across the hall to knock on his door. You paused briefly with your fist raised to knock. You could hear the sound of a guitar on the other side of it. It was rough and the song kept missing notes but you liked it anyway. He was probably just listening to music, you thought knocking on his door.

You heard the guitar stop and him shuffle around in his room before he opened the door. You took a step back as it opened, not expecting him to look so…comfy. He was wearing a white tank top, showing off his metal arm and flannel pajama bottoms, his hair still wet from the a shower he took.

“Y/N! Hi!” His voice was high as he greeted you. You shoot him an odd look and he cleared his throat.

“Hi Buck, can I come in?” You asked. He nodded opening the door a little to let you in. Walking by him was torture, whatever soap he used smelled like heaven. When you were actually in his room, you noticed how bare it was and how everything was very mute colors. Looking around at the stack of books by his bed and the desk with a lone picture of him and Steve from a time you couldn’t ever know and an open notebook.

“I just wanted-” You started, turning around as he closed the door. You notice something against the wall. It was an old acoustic guitar. Bucky followed your eyes to it and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. You looked at him and grinned.

“So you were playing music in here. Actually playing it!” You exclaimed. You couldn’t help but be excited. You could talk about music for hours and to be able to talk to Bucky about it was just icing on the cake.

“Yeah I was….” He trailed off, keeping his eyes on the guitar.

“May I?” You asked, walking towards it before he could answer.

“Uh yeah, no yeah sure go ahead. I’d be honored.” You shot him a confused look as he rambled a little. You didn’t see the light blush adorning his cheeks as he watched you take it over to his bed. You sat down on the edge of it and strummed lightly against the strings. You couldn’t help but smile. Bucky took a seat right next to you. You played a little, both of you enjoying the comfortable silence excluding the sound of the guitar. You didn’t have to talk to Bucky all the time and you really enjoyed that. It was like the two of you just knew that this was enough.

And then you felt your hand tremor and the guitar let out an awful not. You stopped playing immediately, practically shoving the instrument into Bucky’s arms as he watched you concerned. Your face felt hot and the familiar sting of tears were in your eyes. You flexed your hand obsessively in front of you, keeping your face turned away from Bucky.

“Are you okay? What happened? What can I do?” Bucky asked, setting the guitar to the side and sliding close to you, taking your hand into his. You closed your eyes at the touch of smooth cool metal and rough hard working flesh. You felt the tears fall down your face as you finally turned to look at him, taken back about the deep blue his eyes were. The way he was looking at you made your heart beat hard in your chest.

“I-I have a condition.” You confessed quietly. “It’s called dyspraxia. It causes me to be very weak after the easiest things. I can’t even a jar by myself sometimes. It also causes my hand to tremor and-”

“Stops you from playing.” Bucky finished for you. You nodded, crying quietly. Bucky shifted himself bringing you so close that you were sitting on his lap. You head resting against his shoulder and he cradled you, rocking the two of you softly back and forth. He shushed you softly while you cried into his arms. You couldn’t stop to tell it was because you felt so relieved to have told him. That the familiar burn of embarrassment wasn’t there. You knew this was the right thing to do.

“You know-” He cleared his throat and you could have sworn you felt his heart beat a little quicker. “You know I actually noticed you not playing. I use to listen to you play the piano or your guitar all the time. Sometimes I could hear you sing from my room. And when you stopped, I uh, I missed it.” You stayed still against him, listening to him talking.

“And I knew something was going on and I also knew you loved music. So I thought that if you didn’t play I would. So I was learned guitar or tried to I’m not very good at it really. I even tried writing a song. Sam said it was dumb but Steve-” You lifted your head before throwing your arms around his neck. You hugged him so tight and you felt him chuckle as he wrapped his arms around your torso.

“Thank you Bucky. I just- I knew I had to tell you.” You whispered.

“Well, I’m glad it was me.” He replied, kissing the side of your head as you two stayed there locked in an embrace neither of you wanted to get out of.

“Actually, I’ve been meaning to ask you-” Bucky said, pulling the two of you apart so he could lean back and look at you. You smiled at him softly and he smiled back letting out a breath.

“Steve is having an art show soon. And- And I wanted to ask you” He explained shyly. “Would you want to go?”

You laughed and nodded, “I’d be honor to be your date.” You said, smirking a little. Bucky rolled his eyes, a blush blooming on his face.

“I actually like that sound of that.”

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katiesthoughtson · 3 years

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A Year of Hobbies (Halfway)

Sometime in 2020, I was hit with a terrifying realization - maybe I don't do anything. This, naturally, was a bit of an exaggeration. I have plenty of hobbies pre-this exercise including reading, yoga, and taking care of my growing forest of houseplants. However, these core hobbies, for the most part, have been a part of my routine for as long as I can remember.

Like most people, the COVID pandemic brought on a period of serious self-reflection and careful reconsideration of my lifestyle. One of the many changes that I began to embrace was trying new things. It was brought on, in part, by the sudden need to entertain myself over months at home, as well as my discovery of the role of novelty in happiness (as I learned on TikTok). This period, coincidentally, was the first time in my life (well, since age 5) that I haven't been in school or working full-time. Or both. Free time had to be filled and so, I challenged myself to try one or two new hobbies each month. I created a list at the end of 2020 with all the possibilities and have picked a few each month. Some have stuck. Some flopped. But all were attempted.

Here are my results.

January: Cross-Stitching and Writing Fanfiction

I figured for my introduction to this challenge, I'd start by resurrecting two hobbies that had fallen to the wayside.

Cross-stitching was recommended to me by a friend, irritated by my inability to watch a movie without looking at my phone. I am one of those people that needs something to do with my hands though, so she passed me a cross-stitching set, gave me a quick tutorial, and off we were.

For January, I bought a new pattern from an Etsy shop and worked on it as often as I could. I typically did so while watching The Crown, feeling particularly British. It was fun, but very slow work. My least favorite part is easily threading the needle. I did like the final product in the end. In the months since, admittedly, I have not picked it back up. I would like to though, so maybe it'll be resurrected eventually for the second time.

Writing Fanfiction is a much older hobby from back in my tween days. I wrote a number of Fanfictions that are buried somewhere in a dark corner of the Internet now. I figured I should see if the joy of writing Fanfiction has stuck over the years or gone to the wayside.

The latter transpired. I wrote a few long Fanfiction pieces, some shorter drabbles, and didn't find any of it particularly engaging anymore. I admire the craft, I appreciate all the writers who write beautiful works for no compensation, and I respect it immensely. However, writing Fanfiction is no longer for me.

February: Origami and Dancing

Another two hobbies that deserved resurrection.

I did a LOT of origami in elementary school. I probably made 1000 paper cranes in 5th grade alone. I could've done them in my sleep. The joy of getting origami paper back in my hands was so awesome. It felt like stepping back into a time capsule and unlocking my 5th-grade self. I can no longer autopilot cranes, but I pulled up some YouTube tutorials and started folding. I've made all kinds of shapes - whales, cranes, hearts, dogs, crabs, fish. Not all of it was easy. In fact, some of them were very frustrating as I twisted and tore and unfolded papers, but I pushed through. This challenge isn't always going to be easy. Not all of these hobbies are going to come naturally, but you can still have fun.

One of the highlights of this challenge has been learning that I can still have fun without being perfect. Am I creating the most beautiful origami crab to ever exist? No. But what counts is the fun I had doing it.

I do love origami still, although I do it less often. Mostly because I don't really know what to do with all of them. But, any opportunity I can, when writing a letter or giving a gift, I pull out a fresh sheet and get to folding.

I was a dancer for many, many years. My "retirement" came at 18, after a 13-year long career spanning from hip-hop to Broadway to classical ballet. To get back into dancing, I pulled up more tutorials on YouTube (what a wonderful website) and taught myself K-Pop routines. There are so many fun K-Pop dance choreographies and videos for them all. Over the month, I learned NCT 127's "Regular," Blackpink's "How You Like That," Twice's "Fancy" and "I Can't Stop Me," and Aespa's "Black Mamba."

My favorite part about dancing was the exercise. These routines provide a serious sweat and are now one of my ideal ways to workout. In fact, it doesn't even seem like working out, and although I tell myself I'll just do the 30-minute tutorial, I find myself practicing the routine even longer and into the next days to perfect my moves (or just flail a bit less). I might not be ready to join a girl group, but I am having a lot of fun remembering my love for dance.

March: Journaling and Coffee

Journaling has always seemed so aesthetic and a huge recommendation from professionals for dealing with mental health. Finally, I caved and decided to give it a try. One of my primary motivations was documenting these (hopefully) once-in-a-lifetime events. I don't want to look back at this time when I'm old and not remember what it felt like to read the news or witness these global events or all the ways that life has changed. I bought a notebook from Barnes & Noble and got started.

At first, it was tough. I had no idea what to write about some days and found myself mostly just spiraling about my problems. In fact, I was even worried that it was a detriment to my mental health and encouraging me to ruminate more. This tide quickly turned and now I journal every day, even 4 months later. It has become a helpful way for me to express myself, process issues, and monitor my growth. I love reading back on my early journal entries and reflecting on the problems I was worried about that no longer are that big of a deal. I am now a complete proponent of journaling.

My second hobby of the month was coffee - trying new ones and making my own at home. My parents have a fancy Keurig machine that I've never truly attempted to use. So, I dug out the user manual and actually figured out what all the buttons do. I tried different types of coffee, learned how to froth milk at home, and bought syrups. Dare I say, I now prefer my own homemade coffee, made just the way I like in the comfort of my kitchen.

I also took this month as an opportunity to order all kinds of things from Starbucks. I tried matcha lattes (fine, but not my favorite. I need to experiment more with these), a nitro cold brew (ew), and a macchiato (good stuff). I mixed up my normal iced caramel lattes with cold foam and different milk. I am now a much more confident Starbucks consumer with full awareness of the menu. It has always been a goal of mine to have a coffee order longer than 3 words and through my March crash course, I achieved it.

April: Baking and Watching Movies

Over the years, baking has been suggested to me as another mental health related activity. Many of my anxious peers like baking as a way to calm themselves, but I, a person lacking a sweet tooth, have never attempted it. In April, I fired up Pinterest and attempted 3 recipes: blondies, brownies, and pecan chocolate chip pie.

I can see the appeal of baking. It was really calming to mix all the ingredients together, follow a recipe, and see the finished product. The blondies were probably my favorite of the three. Honestly, I can't see myself baking all that often in the future. Like I mentioned, I don't really have much of a sweet tooth, so all my desserts were handed off to my family to enjoy. I know that there's baking that isn't sweet, and I'd like to approach that territory eventually, but I would say that baking probably isn't going to be a go-to hobby.

As mentioned above, I do not like watching movies. They are long and I simply cannot sit still for that long. However, I am tired of movie references constantly going over my head. I decided to expand my repertoire by finding a list online of the (apparently) best 100 movies of all time and decided to put a dent in it. I didn't get through them all, but I did watch The Devil Wears Prada, The Matrix, Heathers, and Spirited Away. A movie a week for a person who previously probably only watched 4 movies a year was a big step up.

I liked all 4 of the movies I watched. I made time for them in my week, sometimes splitting them up into multiple viewing sessions. I wouldn't say I'm a film expert yet, but I'm on my way. Slowly.

May: Making TikToks and Crossword Puzzles

I watch a lot of TikToks. Too many, some could say. I love their witty humor and creativity and spins on a common concept. I have learned that there is much going on in those clips.

Making TikToks is harder than I expected. I made a few that will stay in the drafts forever. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out filters and transitions and green screens. I did post a few, delving into booktok with a reading recap at the end of the month and posting some aesthetic content, but I can't say that I found making them fun. I liked it a bit and I could see how it would be fun, but for me, I found the process of editing and filming and trying to sync everything up perfectly to be a process that I personally do not find enjoyable. I'll stick to be a consumer, not a creator.

I also started doing crossword puzzles and I have a newfound love. I've done them anywhere I can find them, although my favorites are from the New Yorker and the New York Times. There's something so satisfying about seeing the words come together and having that flashlight moment when you solve a clue. I started doing them with my brother too, which made it even more fun as a bonding experience. I have been consistently doing crosswords ever since and cannot imagine my life without them. Big fan. I love that there is finally an outlet for all my years of random accumulated knowledge.

June: Running and Blogging

I hear many people talk about the joy of running. I admire them and their physical strength. I have been doing cardio throughout the year, so I figured running wouldn't be a huge transition. I laced up my sneakers and downloaded the Couch to 5K running plan.

My first few runs were done on the treadmill at home to get a feel for it without public judgment. I was surprised by how exhausted they made me. After working out daily, I did not think running should've had that much impact on my body, but alas. I eventually started running outdoors to appreciate the wind and look at something that wasn't the wall of my basement. Perhaps picking this hobby in the heat of the summer was a bad idea, but I ran at sunset so it was a bit cooler and I had beautiful views. I actually really like running outside. However - tragedy struck. I did something to my knee, putting me on the sidelines for about a week. I iced up my knee and did some light walks. As I'm writing this, it's the end of the month and I can say that I don't love running. I definitely like other kinds of exercise more, but I do want to return to this at some point when it isn't boiling and humid outside. I haven't totally given up yet.

This, what you are reading, is the aforementioned blog. Setting everything up and deciding on a name took some time. Thinking about ideas took more time, as did drafting and writing the posts. I also underestimated this hobby too, much like TikTok. I figured I could post weekly, if not multiple times a week, but this was not the reality. I do really like blogging though and would like to keep up with it moving forward. I'm not going to commit myself to any kind of schedule, but it does feel nice to have a name picked out and a platform established for my future blogging endeavors.

The Present

That brings us to now - halfway through, 12 hobbies attempted.

This challenge has been incredibly fun. I've loved having something new to talk about and something fun going on every month. I like stretching myself to do new things and attempt hobbies that I've always seen others enjoy. It's been hard and there have been some ups and downs, for sure. Not all of my hobbies have brought me immense joy. There were roadblocks and stumbles and a literal physical injury, but I do feel great about my progress. I've gotten exactly what I wanted out of this challenge so far - an expanded mindset, novelty, and happiness.

That's all I can really ask for.

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halethestilinskis · 4 years

Text

Day 1 - Fitness Journey

I’m writing this here so I can keep myself accountable and write how today went and how I’m feeling so I can look back and see how I’m doing.

Today, in Massachusetts, gyms open back up. Eric and I have been waiting for this day, and him and I have gained 10-15 pounds over quarantine, regardless of both of us having our jobs through the entire thing. I need to lose weight, without making myself unhappy, so I’m not following a specific diet, just trying to eat better and eat out less. Today is a Hello Fresh mean, a pork stir fry.

Yesterday and today I felt weird, I didn’t sleep good a couple nights ago, so yesterday I was really tired, and ended up taking a nap after work, but my stomach has also been cramping, and it’s been painful at times when I’m hungry. When I’ve eaten, it just is cramping in a way that’s making me feel like I’m hungry, so far so, that even when eating and can feel that I’m getting full, the cramping still makes me feel hungry. I’m not sure why, but I did take a ibuprofen 800 on an empty stomach yesterday, so probably that.

I went to Tasty Bagels this morning and got a latte and a cinnamon roll, only ate about half of it, and drank about half the coffee, and it’s water for the rest of the day, to see if that helps the stomach problem I’m having.

I went for a run anyway, because of the mask requirement in the gym, I don’t want to run while I’m there, it’s hard enough to breathe while running without the mask, so I’ll just run outside and lift weights in the gym.

It wasn’t a good run, I wasn’t motivated and about halfway through, I got an intense cramp that wasn’t helping me, so I decided to some sprints in the mean time. Still effective, but faster to get it over with. I did a lot of walking, again because of the cramp and lack of motivation to keep myself going.

Ran 1.74 Miles in 24:49. Average pace was 14:13 Finished first mile in 12:52

That was work out one, I’ll update this with my second work out at the gym when Eric gets home. Today is arm day, because it’s always been one of my greatest insecurities about myself.

Second workout, I went to the gym with Eric.

We did arms. Did a some bar curls, some regular curls, some rope pulls (?) that work your triceps, did some forearms, and dips, and the weight behind your head that also works your tri’s, I don’t know what those are called either.

The Eric wanted to do cardio on the treadmill, but I beat him there and did the stair master for 10 minutes, I think I did around 500 stairs, and that shit SUCKED. I never really do the stair master.

I also did some obliques in between doing dips, and I am wiped, and will definitely be feeling that tomorrow.

#Day 1 #Hailey's fitness

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fanfictionconnectionwordpress · 7 years

Note

What would happen if the RFA + Minor Trio were introduced to energy drinks and got high on it? ;)

***Nothing good. Lol, jk, I dunno. Maybe something good willcome out of this, but there’s really only one way to find out. I’m going tostart with the ones who have probably had energy drinks before. ~Let’s Connect!FFC

Character breakdown: Good ending canon characters, Secretending 02 Saeran, V with an operation to restore some of his sight, my version of Vanderwood as seen in my VanderwoodBackstory Fanfiction***

Seven:

Who decided it was a good idea to let this boy have enoughenergy drinks to hype him up?

I’m pretty sure he’s convinced he can see sound. Actually,he might be able to, who the fuck knows?

What does Seven do with this newfound energy and amazingtalent? He gets to work on his computer. Vanderwood is actually really proud tosee him working away this hard. The kid is certainly working a lot harder thanhe was for their very last mission.

When Seven finally crashes, passing out on his keyboard,Vanderwood decides to take a look at what the redhead has been working on andjust…has he been…making a manual on how to best create the world’s new longestlongcat?

After a long long nap, Seven awakens with a keyboardimprinted on his face and a note from Vanderwood that he will be tasing theredhead for being an idiot later. Why??? What had he even done to the guy????T_T

Yoosung:

The blond had used energy drinks many a time to stay up forLOLOL raids, but this was his first time using them to stay up for somehardcore studying.

Ever since you’d come into his life, he was now a devotedstudent once more, wanting to become a reliable man to you. This cram sessionwould have to be the best of all cram sessions ever.

Yoosung decides to have more than one energy drink, and thenhe starts to feel a little weird. It’s like he’s dreadfully aware of his ownheartbeat. What is this?? Is he dying??

It seems like the whole world around him is full of thesefuzzy little dots too. He is most certainly dying. Instead of studying,

Yoosungturns his attention to writing his will and a very long and heartfelt letter toeach of the people most important to his life, including a final letter aboutthe dangers of having too many energy drink that he passes out halfway throughwriting.

You find him the next morning, covering him with a blanketbefore looking at what he was doing. There is drool on the final note and yourifle through the papers only to sigh at his naivety. Yoosung may be smart, butsometimes he’s really ridiculous.

Zen:

Energy drinks used to be something he was having all thetime when he worked out, but after he realized there was just so much sugarthat he was mostly working the drinks off, he stopped. Sure, he was a heavy beerdrinker too, and that wasn’t healthy, but why add energy drinks on top of that?

It’s been a while, and supposedly this energy drink you’dleft on the counter was extra strength, so he decides to give it a sip just tosee what his cutie is drinking. It tastes so good that he ends up having alittle more than a sip.

By the time he’s finished off half of the can, Zen realizesthat he is shaking. His entire body is just violently shivering like somechihuahua on acid. There is so much energy and he needs to get rid of it!

So, what does he turn to? Exercise. Zen goes to his favoritegym, and you find him there hours later after the gym manager calls you. Yourfavorite albino has passed on the elliptical.

Zen swears off energy drinks for the rest of time and alsonever lets you drink them either, because that can’t be good for you.

Saeran:

The can seems colorful and he just assumes it’s a pop. It ismost definitely not just a pop, but at least it tastes good?

It isn’t long before Saeran starts to feel really weird. Hisleg just starts bouncing, his fingers tapping wildly at the armrests of hischair. Something in him just feels like he needs to do something and he can’tfigure out what.

This perpetual feeling is just getting worse and worse evenas he tries to figure out something to do on the computer to no avail.

You find Saeran curled into a ball on the bed hours later,his hands pressed to either side of his head. Apparently the stimulation hadcaused a bit of a panic attack, and this was where your love had retreated to.Good thing you’re there to help him now.

No energy drinks for Saeran, ever.

Jaehee:

This woman drinks so much coffee and tea on a regular basisthat she is not even able to get high off of an energy drink.

Jaehee took one sip, thought it tasted disgusting, but then drankthe whole thing down thanks to your dare to do so. It was the only way she’dtry it.

Of course, you had to do the same and it ended up being thatJaehee was following you around as you hopped around the room ‘cleaning’ whichactually meant knocking stuff over with the duster as Jaehee heroically caughteverything and replaced the items on their respective shelves.

V/Jihyun:

He may have had an operation to help out with most of hissight, but V still had trouble with small lettering. There is small letteringon this can of energy drink, and he happens to be so thirsty at the moment thathe just needs to get something down.

That was a mistake. For one, it was incredibly sugary andnot really to his taste, but for another, why did he feel like he wanted to runa marathon?

V doesn’t know what to do with all the pent up energy, andhe doesn’t trust his depth perception to actually attempt to run a marathon, soinstead he makes it to his computer and just starts frantically editingpictures.

It isn’t until his eyes start watering and stinging that herealizes he has been staring at the screen way longer than his doctorrecommends that he be allowed to.

At least now he’s starting to feel tired? Really tired…Hebarely makes it to his couch before passing out.

When he wakes up his eyes are so sensitive to the light thathe actually has to use his cane to get around because he can’t bear to keep hiseyes open for longer than thirty seconds.

From now on, tap water is just fine.That sounds like the best solution to thirst.

Jumin:

This new brightly colored can must be some commoner’sbeverage his lovely MC enjoys.

Jumin picks up this beverage labeled ‘beast’ with a brightgreen ‘b’ logo and examines it. Of course, he reads the back of the can,furrowing his brows at the nutritional statements as well as the warnings.

How on Earth could his sweetheart like this type of drink?With a sigh, he decides that he will just have to try it. The drink is withinhis allotted extra calorie intake by some miracle, or curse, so he decides todrink it, if only to understand.

The amount of energy that seems to flood his system israther a shock to it. Jumin has no motivation problems on any given day, butright now…He needs to work on cat projects.

He didn’t do these as often as he once had, because he simplydidn’t get as stressed as he used to now that you were around, but he just hadto do one right now. That cat hotel project had never hit the ground runninglike it should have.

Jaehee is beyond surprised when her boss calls her on herday off sounding like a crazed person, and she nearly cries as he gives her somuch work to go along with the work that he is doing as well. How can he expectto have this project done by today?

After much sweat and tears, maybe even blood from papercuts,Jaehee arrives at the penthouse to deliver the documents personally to Mr. Han,only to find that Jumin is passed out with his head in your lap, papersscattered in neat piles.

The next morning, Jumin looks everything over, feeling wornout beyond belief, and decides to just trash it because the ideas he’d had weremade ‘under the influence’ and that just wasn’t ethical. More tears fromJaehee.

Vanderwood:

Seven tricks him. And by tricks him I mean mixes an energy drink into afruit smoothie that Vanderwood was making. The brunet questions the taste, butdecides it was probably the slightly over ripened kiwi that had done it.

There’s not long before Vanderwood just feels on edge. Hiseyes flicker around the room as his heart-rate seems to increase dramatically.Brown eyes find the redhead watching him, a smirk on Seven’s face which quicklyturns to fear.

Of course, that on edge feeling must be that the redhead wasplanning some sort of horrible joke. Seven’s smile was just fading because hewas being caught in the act. “What are you planning?” Vanderwood seems to feelmuch faster than usual as he actually manages to catch the much smaller andusually quicker male.

He drags Seven around with him from room to room asking ifthe thing the redhead was pranking him with was there, watching him to see ifthere was any reaction.

When they eventually make it to the kitchen, Vanderwood isstarting to feel so exhausted, letting go of the redhead. It’s the last room,so whatever the prank was, it had to be here.

“So?” He watches as Seven’s eyes flicker to the now cleanblender and then away. The smoothie? “What did you put in my-“ And suddenly thecrash is just horrible. Vanderwood nearly falls over as he grips at thecounter. Now Seven feels pretty damn horrible, grabbing the larger man andhelping him to the couch where he just lets the guy sleep.

Normally, Vanderwood slept really lightly, but he was outlike a light. Should Seven add insult to injury and maybe draw on the guy alittle bit? …Why can’t he seem to resist writing ‘I’m a jerk.’ on Vanderwood’sforhead?

Once Vanderwood wakes up, feeling sick, and goes to thebathroom, suddenly he doesn’t feel so sick anymore, and it’s back to chasingthe redhead again. Why does Seven do this to himself?

AsksMasterList. Send me an ask! Patronsget first dibs, but everyone else is first come first serve. NSFW andSFW accepted. Check out my fanfictions.

#mystic messenger #mystic messenger headcanon #askffc #luciel choi #yoosung kim #zen hyun ryu #saeran choi #jaehee kang #jumin han #v jihyun kim #vanderwood

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wildkaleidoscope · 7 years

Text

Of Blood and Stitches (2/?)

This one is really NSFW, I mean it. Enjoy! SFF, just under 5k words.

Part one is here

Let me know what you thought of it, maybe it’ll motivate me to write the next part faster!

Time passes by in a duller manner since Root has met Shaw. She struggles to find any ER case as entertaining and fun than when she was held in a chokehold by a potentially fatally hurt trauma surgeon. These things just do not repeat themselves.

Since her interns have been getting a little too comfortable in their reflexes, Root has started a new game she likes to call “Surprise Emergencies”.

Usually it’s on a quiet day, or right after they finished a surgery, or just as they walk in the hospital. It’s any time, really. Today, she’s waiting for one of them outside the men’s washroom, her small pocket blade in hand. She knows he's just finished scrubbing in on a five hours surgery. He must be tired. She lifts one side of her hospital shirt up a couple inches, and as soon as the door opens, she presses the blade to her pale skin. A quick slash, and a short wince, and she calls to her unsuspecting intern.

“Fusco! I just got stabbed, my liver is touched, what do you do?”

Fusco almost whimpers before grabbing Root and sitting her down on the nearest bed. Immediately, he starts reciting the procedures, putting on gloves and applying sterilized gauze to her wound.

“This is starting to get concerning, Dr Root.” He mumbles as he patches her up, unwillingly darting his eyes between the small wound to her wrist, where the three stitches he put in last week are slowly fading away.

“This is fun! Oh, next time, I’ll give myself an insulin overdose, see how fast you can work as a team!” she proclaims, lost in her next episode of “surprise emergencies”

“Don’t you have a hobby?” the man asks, pulling down her shirt with a disgruntled look.

“This is my hobby!” Root pleads, but her smile is anything but sorry.

Get another one, this is not normal.” He grumbles, getting up without another word.

“Oh, Lionel, you’re no fun!” she giggles, rummaging through the nearest drawer for some painkillers; his hands are anything but delicate.

He did a really good job, though. She takes long strides to the on call room, hoping she might get some shut eye, but, with no surprise, the phone rings.

She readies her emergency voice, trying not to sound too bored, and picks up.

“Hi.”

Her serious face flips upwards and she rolls alongside the wall, twisting the telephone cord in her finger.

“This is an emergency phone line. How'd you get this number?” Root tries to sound at least a little patronizing.

“You're not the only one with special talents. Samantha.”

Root grins even wider, picturing Sameen digging information on her, trying to up her one. Thinking about her. Her stomach is giddy.

“Oh, I never said you were talentless. You make frowning sexy.”

There's a silence at the other end. Root giggles, looking over her shoulder to see the rest of the staff just going their way.

“Was there a reason you called? Or did you just miss me?” this time, she hears a scoff.

“Yeah right. You left your phone in the hospital.”

She was waiting for that call. It only took two months.

“It's a good thing you found it.” Shaw is waiting for the rest, but it never comes.

“So, when can you pick it up?” The tone is pointedly formal.

“How about we meet halfway?” Root asks, resting her temple on the wall, holding the phone closer.

“Whenever you're in the area, just drop by, it'll be at the ER admission.”

“You took two months to find my phone. The least you can do is bring it halfway.” There's a grunt and a mumbled ‘fine’ before she goes on; “There's this nice little restaurant just left to the bridge. Meet me there tomorrow at nine.”

A shocked silence follows suite, and Shaw scoffs in realization.

“You left your phone here, didn't you?”

“Goodbye, Sameen.” Root says softly, hanging up with a satisfied smirk.

---

Sameen is left with a half smirk on, the line ringing in her ear. She shakes her head; she really hung up on her! The woman tuts in disbelief, although her face looks amused.

She looks at the phone in her hand and hesitates for just a second. She looks around quickly; no one is paying attention to her. With a few taps and slides, she has put her number in Root’s phone, under the name “Don't Ever Stab Again”. She grins to herself, puts the phone back and goes on her way to look for an intern to terrorize.

That'll keep her in a good mood.

She doesn't have time to find one, though, before the emergency line rings and in comes multiple gunshot wound victims. An excited look brightens her features for a second, and only a little voice in her head tells her she should be getting sleep before tomorrow afternoon for her date - date?!

Her mind is quick to focus on the victims ahead, which is a relief; she can't handle thinking about going on a date with Root when there are at least five people bleeding on gurneys coming her way.

Shaw dispatches the ER staff as the ambulances rush in. Everybody is walking fast and steady, just like she taught almost every single person on her service. The only other doctor she didn't train is John Reese, the closest thing to a best friend she has. They work well together because none of them likes to chitchat.

It's no surprise they exchange a look of challenge when the paramedics informs them the last ambulance to come in is a woman, and her husband holding her guts.

Shaw smacks him in the groin right as the ambulances doors open and she grins, claiming the patient.

“You're an animal.” Reese grunts as she flies by.

------

Tomorrow goes faster when you spend three quarters of your yesterday in surgery, trying to put back into place a woman's intestines with minimal complications.

When she walks out, Shaw is a little dizzy, but content; the woman didn't die! She'll have months of rehab and healing, possibly a few more surgeries, but she will be alright. Chest inflated with pride, Shaw sets to find Reese.

They share a copious breakfast - he pays - while Shaw tells him the entire sixteen hour surgery that went on.

He lets her finish his steak, and parts of his fries, with a smirk inching up his lips.

“What?” Shaw asks, mouth full of scrambled eggs.

“Don't you have a date at 9?” his tone is dripping like honey, but his shit-eating grin betrays his intent.

“Shit!” she mournfully looks at the half eaten plate before her, then shoots a look at Reese. “You let me eat all this and now I have to pretend like I'm hungry again in -” She looks at his watch and grunts in agony “in an hour!”

Reese carefully slides her plate towards himself and chuckles.

“I'm sure you'll work up an appetite by then, Shaw.” He looks so innocent, Sameen wants to punch him.

“You're the worst kind of friend, you know that?” She rolls her eyes at him, but her smile tells another story.

She gets up and is about to leave before she whips around and glares at him.

“And it's not a date.”

She walks out before seeing his head tilt as he claims her uneaten waffle.

An hour to wash the scent of blood and guts and surgery out of her hair, and skin. She needs more than that. She needs at least three hours of sleep, and an hour long shower, and she probably doesn't even have clean clothes, and - she stops her brain.

This is not a date.

She will simply shower, tie her hair in a ponytail, put jeans and a t shirt on, and she will give Root her phone back. She probably won't even eat.

Shaw is decided as she enters her apartment complex.

In front of her door lies a white rectangular box and a note is attached to it.

“Congratulations on your surgery! I hope this isn't too much. I look forward to seeing you.”

Shaw is intrigued, and slightly annoyed that she knows whom it's from. She wonders for a second how in hell the woman could’ve known about her surgery, but again, doctors are the worst gossip. She sits on her bed and opens it, scoffing loudly at the sight.

In her lap, delicately folded, sits a bright red dress, and when she takes it out, she realizes it is a short dress, with a very deep v-neck. She shakes her head, already convinced she will not be wearing this. Another note falls when she chugs the box on her bed.

“It's too much, isn't it? It's okay, I figured as much. It probably looks better on the floor anyways.”

Shaw looks over her shoulder as if someone might suddenly read this note, and then back at the lump of fabric on the floor. She can't help the grin on her face, and she hates Root for it. Something does a back flip in her stomach, and as she tries to say no, her body is already undressing and getting ready for a night in a tight dress.

The idea of Root seeing her in the dress and thinking of it on the floor is too exciting to pass. If she can make the woman flustered, it's bound to be a good night.

She has no difficulties finding the restaurant, but she is about fifteen minutes late. Her pony tail has turned into crafted loose curls, and her jeans and t-shirt have metamorphosed into a red dress and black heels. She has put a matte lipstick and dark eye shadow on, just to complete the look.

Root sees her first. Sameen sees her wide and bright smile right after.

She sways her hips - result of the high heels and tight waist - to the table, very much aware of Root’s delighted look and wandering eyes. Once she is sat, Shaw tries to contain her smile.

“You wore it.” states Root with an impressed note in her voice.

“Hey, free dress. A dress makes everyone think you've put effort in your clothes when it's just because you were lazy.” She retorts, shrugging with one shoulder.

“And the hair and makeup, is that part of the facade of being lazy?” Root questions, raising an eyebrow.

Shaw tuts and rolls her eyes, waving for the waiter. He comes, all smiles and nice, and Shaw asks for a scotch, on the rocks. Root raises an inquiring eyebrow, but before she can reorder wine for herself, Sameen takes her glass and gives it a whirl. She inhales, and then wets her lips with the red liquid. With a knowing smile, she orders the exact wine Root is drinking.

“That was quite the feat, Sameen.”

Shaw shrugs, opening the menu to distract her hands. And eyes. Because Root has let her hair down, and the way it cascades over one bare collarbone, framing her long and thin features in a softened shadow, it is too much to take in. She does not want to admit Root looks more than lovely tonight.

This is not a date.

They order food and Shaw has worked up an appetite, but it isn't as much for the steak in her plate than it is for the way Root keeps casually touching her hand across the table. Or how she laughs at the intern stories she extracts from Shaw, and her neck lengthens, exposing pale skin and the perfect spot for Shaw to bite, certain it would drag a low moan from the same throat. Or even the way Root has courageously inched closer to Sameen, their legs brushing under the table from time to time.

When desert comes, Shaw is fairly certain Root is playing footsies, and that the hand she wrapped around her knee earlier is now right under the hem of her dress. She can't really think of anything but the burning sensation of her fingers achingly sprawled against her inner thigh.

She snatches the check from Root, with a wicked grin, and she gets up to pay.

Once she's back, Root is up as well, ready to leave, and she looks expectant.

“What?” Shaw asks, gathering her coat and purse.

“Aren't you forgetting something?” Root retorts

“I'm not kissing you.” She deadpans, although maybe she would like to kiss her.

“My phone, silly.” She holds her hand out.

Oh.

Right.

They met so Shaw could give her phone back.

She smiles apologetically, and Root bursts out laughing. People are startled and Shaw hushes her out of the restaurant.

“I forgot it at my place. It's not far from here. Just come with, you can grab a cab from there.”

“Is this the part where you look all innocent to lure me in your apartment, only to cut me in pieces and ditch me in the desert?” Root tries to look scared, but she’s smiling too wide.

“There's no dessert, we're in New York.” Shaw starts walking.

Root rolls her eyes; one day, she will make Shaw laugh. She makes it her goal from now on. The brunette quickly follows Sameen, and nonchalantly slips her arm around hers. Shaw looks down at their linked arms and sigh, but doesn't take it away.

It's a peaceful night, if only peaceful is a word that can be used in The Big Apple. Once they approach her building, Shaw starts to slow down, until they come to a full stop. She looks down at her feet, and Root feels her heart tighten. Is she shying away from her? She thinks, and she has a hard time restraining her need to gush. Shaw clears her throat and plants herself in front of the brunette.

“You can wait here, I’ll be right back.” she takes back her arm, but her hand gets stuck in Root’s.

“You’re going to make me wait out here, on the street?” she raises an eyebrow, taking a swift step forward, closing the distance between hers and Sameen’s body. “In the cold?” she whispers, towering with a full head above the other surgeon.

“Why do you have to be so dramatic?” she replies, not flinching at Root’s closeness, their faces inches apart - again.

Root’s cocky grin is all she gets for a response; that, and unfaltering direct eye contact. Shaw wants to win this, but Root is way too close, and too pretty, and she had one too many scotch, and she smells too nice, and this is just - no. She rolls her eyes and scoffs a “fine” before turning swiftly around.

Root closes her eyes for half a second, inhaling Shaw’s perfume with delight.

They climb the five floors by foot, and Root is convinced Shaw is trying to race her. Sameen is actually trying to diffuse her increased heartbeat with actual physical activity. No one has been to her apartment. Not even John and they’ve known each other for literal years. Yet, here she is, sliding her key in the doorway, unlocking her home to a stranger, and a very annoying one at that.

Root lets herself in right after Shaw; she can feel the woman’s warmth irradiating on her back. She waves her hand around, swiftly going over the kitchen, the living room and the hallway to her bedroom. Shaw doesn’t keep much in sight, but there is an easel with a painting half finished. Her therapist said it would help with the nightmares.

Shaw tries to subtly put herself between her most intimate passion and Root, but the woman has already seen it. She lets her head fall back as she sees Root bee lining for it. The tall woman points at it after a few seconds, and a soft smile makes her lips quiver.

“This is really good, I like it. Did you paint this?” she asks, tilting her head for another angle.

“Yeah, I did.” Shaw decides she has to speed this up, because this is way out of her comfort zone.

She disappears for a minute, but she doesn’t have time to come back. Root has followed her to her bedroom, and she leans on the doorframe.

“So, this is where the magic happens, uh?” she teases, glancing around the neat and tidy room, except for the box carelessly thrown on the bed.

“No magic. Just sleep. Here’s your phone.” Sameen tries to body-block Root’s inquisitive looks, but the woman does not budge, and she finds herself almost pressed chest to chest.

She puts her phone on her torso, waiting for the brunette to grab it. Instead, Root just cocks her head, looking over Sameen’s head. Shaw raises an eyebrow, an uncertain smile tugging at her lips. Root closes her hand over hers, but makes apparently has no intent on taking her phone.

Instead, she takes a step forward, pushing Sameen back into her room. Shaw can definitely feel Root’s heart beating fast, and hers follows a similar rhythm. The tall woman has this indescribable smirk and she lifts a hand to grip Shaw’s hip, never breaking eye contact. Sameen’s breath hitches in her throat and she gasps softly; her left hand is gripping Root’s belt.

“It’s too bad only sleep happens here.” Root purrs, tilting her chin so their noses are touching, lips ghosting over each other’s.

“Shut up.” Shaw closes the distance, her heart exploding in her chest, relishing in the taste of wine and lipstick.

Root grips her hip tighter, and swirls them around, harshly shoving Shaw against the wall. Sameen’s hands work fast to unfasten her jeans’ belt, nearly ripping them open. She moans and gasps loudly when Root, one hand pulling her hair and bending her neck backwards, sinks her teeth in the sensitive skin above her collarbone.

She pushes Root back, and the woman stumbles a few steps. It gives Shaw enough time to cock her head, grinning mischievously, before she launches herself at Root. She presses her roughly against her dresser, lifting both of her arms and pinning them on the wall. She slowly reaches under her shirt until her fingers bump against her bra. She chuckles breathlessly as she feels the fabric; lace, and very thin. Root lets her head fall back when Sameen’s hot lips kiss their way from her lower abdomen to the hem of her garment. She’s still holding a firm grip on her wrists, making Root squirm under the languishing pecks.

Shaw drags her teeth over her half exposed breasts, pulling down the pigeoning bra with them. She revels in the sight for a second, and her tight loosens just enough that Root yanks her hands free. The brunette presses her body grimly against Shaw’s until the woman is backed up against her bed. She looks her straight in the eyes as she drops to her knees. Shaw’s eyes roll to the back of her head and she takes a handful of Root’s hair, balling her fingers into a tight fist. Root is kissing up her thigh, lifting her dress at the same time, and Shaw is about ready to cave in.

But not yet.

She likes control.

Root’s mouth is getting dangerously close to her panties, and Shaw’s having more difficulty breathing and focusing on her next move. The dark-haired woman moans loudly, and an echo from the brunette’s mouth sends a shiver through her entire body.

Shaw grips Root’s hair a little tighter, and she tugs at it, forcing the woman to get back up. As soon as she’s on her feet, Shaw takes off her shirt and unclasps her bra. Root is standing in front of her, bare-chested, breathing heavily, and Shaw needs to taste her. She shoves the taller woman on the bed, and kneels in front of her bent knees.

With experienced fingers, she rips open her jeans and slides them off her ass. Root thinks Sameen is still wearing way too much clothing; she sits back up and pulls her in, close. As the black haired woman straddles her hips, biting and sucking on her exposed shoulders, Root unzips the dress and simply lifts it off Shaw’s body.

Their ragged breaths become moans, and grunts, as they both try to take control of the situation.

Root finally gives in when Shaw ruthlessly bites her hip, sliding herself off of her and onto the carpeted floor, hooking her fingers under the waistband of her matching lace panties. Root helps her take them off, and she pulls Shaw back up, shivering under the weight and warmth of her body grazing against her bare skin. She bucks her hips under the avalanche of successive bites, kisses and licks from Shaw. Her hands manage to undo her bra, and as soon as their chests collide, Root grabs onto Sameen’s ass with both hands and arches her body into the embrace.

Shaw leaves a trail of wet and lustful kisses down Root’s torso, onto her abdomen, and she stops briefly to bite her right hip. She drags her teeth over smooth skin until her chin is prickled with short hairs. She smiles at the guttural sound that escapes Root’s mouth, and reaches to cup one of her breasts.

Root doesn’t know what to do with her hands; grab Shaw’s hair and push her head just an inch lower, grip the sheets in exquisite apprehension or cover her hand to keep her groping her chest.

She settles for a sheet grab, as Shaw kisses her inner thighs, making Root whip her hips towards her mouth every time she gets close. Never close enough.

Finally, after excruciating tongue drags and sloppy kisses, Root feels Shaw’s breath directly on her navel. A low and loud moan rumbles deep in her throat, and it gives Shaw the final push; she presses the length of her tongue on Root’s hot center, dragging it upwards.

She flicks the tip of it right under her clit and Root quivers under her mouth. Shaw feels so powerful in that single instant, more so even than when she’s saving lives in surgery. This is power. The way Root is silently - not that silently- begging for more, completely unraveling at the simple touch of her tongue.

Shaw feels too tight in her own underwear, but she is so not ready to let Root go. She drags her nails down her chest, until she can hook her arm under the brunette’s hips, and grips tightly. Her mouth feasts on the wetness beneath her, and she’s holding Root into place. Her tongue swirls around her swollen clit, making Root moan loudly. She flattens it; her nose pressed right above her sensitive bud, and almost lazily licks her up and down. Every time she gets close to her entrance, Root bucks her hip just that much stronger. Shaw gets the message quickly, and she teases her with the tip of her tongue. Her own desire takes over and she buries her tongue inside her wet navel.

A high pitched moan, quickly followed by a harsh gasp tells her that his feels as good as she thinks. Root lets go of the sheets and fists a bunch of Shaw’s hair. She’s pushing her head almost viciously against her cunt, dictating the speed at which Shaw fucks her with her tongue. Reaching above her hip with one hand, Shaw places two fingers just above her clit, and drives Root to the edge with fast motions in tandem with her tongue.

She feels the woman tightening her pelvis, bucking her hips more erratically, and it makes her smile. She shifts her weight and slides one arm out from under Root’s ass. She slides her tongue in one more time before lapping the wetness. She replaces her tongue with two fingers easily curling inside her. She feels for the rigged area inside Root, and she fingerfucks her hard, sucking on her throbbing clit.

She wraps her tongue around it as Root presses her head even harder against her cunt. Shaw’s fingers are working at a steady and fast pace, hitting just the right spot every time they curl in, and she switches from sucking to licking with a flat tongue.

Soon enough, Root is whimpering, ordering her to keep going, and she grits her teeth, jaws furiously clenched, when Shaw stops. The hand in her hair yanks her head back and Root can barely look directly at her with a glistening chin, and eyes dark with lust.

“Impatient much, Dr. Groves?” Shaw chuckles a little nervously as Root digs her nails in her scalp.

“‘My name is Root.” she growls, watching closely when Shaw drags herself on top of her.

“And what’s mine?” Shaw bites her earlobe harshly, smirking.

Root gasps loudly, and she’s about to reply when she feels Sameen’s hand cup her navel, fingers curling inside her, and deep. She picks up a fast pace, her thumb circling her clit at a perfect rhythm. Root holds onto Shaw’s body, pressing her as close as possible. Shaw observes her closely, and when she feels Root is about to orgasm, she slows down her fingerfucking with a smug look.

“This is for stabbing me in the neck.” Shaw growls, kissing Root’s neck avidly.

“I saved your life.” Root retorts, gasping loudly as Shaw’s fingertips lazily drag over her clit.

“I saved yours too.” Sameen is having a little too much fun, and she’s let her guard down just enough.

Root sees an opportunity, and she switches their positions. She’s straddling Shaw’s hips, her dripping wet navel darkening the grey underwear she’s still wearing. She pins Sameen’s hands above her head and a sassy snicker cascades out of her parted lips.

“Let me apologize properly, Sameen.” Root purrs, grinding her hips down.

She slowly releases Shaw’s hands, pointing a warning finger at her. Shaw doesn’t move and her breath catches in her throat when she understands what Root is about to do. The woman pulls her panties to the side, and she slowly rubs her thumb over her clit. Her other hand reaches down her exposed cunt, and she reproduces the same motion on herself. Shaw’s eyes fall back, but she can’t look away from the sight.

Root is gyrating her hips down, and every time, it presses her hand harder on her cunt, and makes Shaw moan louder. She can feel her orgasm build up, but never enough pressure or fast pace to tilt her over the edge. When she realizes that Root is going to get herself off with her own hand while watching Shaw squirm, the black haired woman cocks her head in astonishment.

“Oh no you won’t.” She stammers through gritted teeth, quickly gripping Root’s hips before she can pin her wrist back up.

She crudely pulls her by the ass, inching herself down until she engulfs Root’s cunt in her mouth. She watches the other woman intently, smirking when she can’t even stay upright. Her shoulder slump forward and she barely holds herself up, smacking her hand on the wall to not completely fold in half. Shaw cups one of her breasts, groping it roughly, swirling her tongue around Root’s clit. She was so close before Shaw had her sit on her face, she can’t hold back anymore - and neither is Sameen.

Root reaches back, seconds before her orgasm, and digs her nails into Shaw’s thigh. Root lets her head fall back, one hand gripping Shaw’s head, keeping her in place, the other leaving deep crescents in her bare skin. She moans loudly, groaning Shaw’s name, unraveling in the feeling of her tongue indecently pressing and circling on her clit.

Shaw lets Root ride her face until her body is quivering and every time she moves her tongue, Root trembles. Then, she slowly kisses her inner thigh, sinks her teeth in the hot and humid skin with a content smile. Root lets her head hang low, her hair sticking to her sweaty face, panting heavily. She caresses Shaw’s face, an almost inaudible moan torn from her dry throat when Sameen teases her raw clit.

“You have a strange way of apologizing. “ Shaw states, and Root covers her face with one hand.

She slowly peels herself off of Sameen’s face, and falls beside her on the messy bed. She gently wipes away her own wetness from the other woman, grinning. Root’s eyes flutter shut, and Shaw’s quick to shuffle under the blankets, softly covering her as well. She brings an arm under her pillow, looking intently at Shaw.

“Stop staring.” Sameen whispers, eyes half closed.

“Stop being so beautiful.” Root retorts, and it makes Shaw scoff.

She turns away from Root, her cheeks flushed red. The brunette slides closer to her and Shaw gasps when a cold hand snakes around her hip.

“It’s your turn to scream my name.” Root growls, biting her ear lobe sharply.

Shaw instinctively backs herself closer to Root, seeking contact.

Tomorrow cannot come slow enough.

#shoot #root x shaw #sameen shaw #root #samantha groves #person of interest #poi #shootweek #shoot fanfic #shoot fic #my writing

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