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oopsimbug · 3 years

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in which... y/n is just trying to put on eyeliner and harry is bored pt. two

a/n: when she’s back from a six month hiatus after making only ONE fic. wow, do i suck. for anyone who cares, school has been pretty rough. i’m actually procrastinating studying for an exam to finally upload this. it’s been pretty hard to balance both school and writing but oh well. anywho, here it finally is. it took so long to write because i wasn’t feeling very inspired by this. a lot of people asked for a part two and even though i kinda wanted to leave it on a sad note, i am a sucker for giving the people what they want, so sorry if this is a bit shit- i definitely don’t like this one myself. i guess i’m not one for fluffy endings. well, at least for this one i wasn’t. i really hope you enjoy it! more stuff to come, if school doesn’t mind fucking off for a little while (or maybe just forever?) xox -(a) bug

pairing: best friend! harry styles x reader

summary: Harry is worried about Y/n. Y/n is worried about Harry. Harry is solving it by thinking of ways to check on her, while Y/n uses cheesy pasta and the Fresh Prince of Bel Air as an excuse to not think. But what will happen when someone is at her door, and it’s not her delivery man?

warnings: angst, swearing, y/n and harry being idiotos, fluffy end, kissing

word count: 5.3k

It had been a week.

One gruelling, painfully long week.

Harry was biting his nails, staring up at the ceiling as he laid in his bed, worrying about her.

About how he fucked up.

He didn’t think that she would be upset for this long. He thought she would scream at him and then text him the following day, wanting to hang out- a silent “I forgive you”, he supposed.

But after two days of radio silence on her end, he decided to call her. The only problem was that her last words to him were “leave”. She wanted space. She needed to think things through- what things? Harry had no clue. But he had to respect her and her choice to not want him around. So with that, he put down the phone.

But a small part of him (okay fine, a big part of him), wanted her to just show up at his house so they could cuddle again, talking about the stupidest of things while they made cupcakes in his kitchen. They would be listening to groovy music and now and then, they’d stop mixing bowls and sifting flour to dance- well, they were horrible dancers, so more so just wave their hands, hips and shoulders around. It would be fun and would always end up with them laughing at one another. He would lick the batter and she would berate him, telling him that “one of these days, you are going to get salmonella and I’ll just laugh at your stupid ass” and he would retort with something witty and a bit flirty like “don’t worry darling, we both know you would be right at my side if I got sick. I know you can’t stand being apart from me” with a wink and a cheeky smirk. He just wants to see her in her oversized Space Jam hoodie and little basketball shorts. Or her short flower shirt and his sweatpants that she has to cuff at the bottoms because they’re too long. Or even-

He’s gotta stop thinking about her, or his brain will soon explode. But he just can’t stop. He tries to think of the happier moments, like her showing him a tour of her very healthy houseplants that she prides herself in, but every time he closes his eyes, all he can see is her teary face telling him to leave. So no, if he was given the choice to think of her flailing her arms around in his kitchen to dancehall tunes while making sweet treats or crying at something that he provoked, you bet your ass he’d choose the former.

But after the seventh day, he knew that something wasn’t right. This was too much “thinking time”. For all he knew, she could be fine, but she could also be positively bawling. She could be living for this free time, but she also could be waiting for him to make the first move. She could be wanting Harry out of her life for her benefit forever, but she also could be feeling lonely and counting the seconds for their makeup, just like he was.

That was it. He had to go see her and make sure his best friend was okay.

He practised what he was going to say to her in his car on the way to her apartment. “Y/n, I’m so sorry for how I acted. I didn’t stop to think about how you were feeling and didn’t take your emotions into account which was unbelievably wrong of me. I’m truly sorry. It’s just that I really care about you and you’re my best friend and I can’t see you choose a tinder fuck over me and if I saw him in the street I would knock his lights out and I just want to kiss you, can I kiss you, oh god please let me kiss you I just want to-“

Fuck, what was wrong with him? Why was he so upset? He had been on plenty of dates with other celebrities and models and she was always on the sidelines, cheering him on. So why was he getting so touchy-feely about a single tinder date? Maybe he was just in desperate need of attention. He hadn’t had a girlfriend for almost one year and casual fuck arounds also stopped about four months ago, so maybe he just needed to fuck someone quick. That would explain why he sees his best friend’s kindness and natural flirty nature as something more romantic. Every laugh at his jokes, every look in her eyes, every graze of her hand on his thighs as she leans over him to get her drink on the side table next to him, he becomes more switched on and awake. She leaves him feeling giddy and excited at every conversation. “This can’t just be because I’m horny right?” he cannot believe he would ever be that horny. What the hell was he going to do?

This is pathetic she thought.

I’m pathetic.

She let out a huge sigh before shoving another forkful of cheesy pasta into her mouth.

What am I doing?

The answer?

Eating carbs upon carbs upon carbs, lounging on her comfy sofa in the most comfortable, yet daggiest pair of pyjamas ever while watching reruns of The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air for the fiftieth time, actively avoiding all commitments, housework and jobs that involve moving further than to the kitchen, which even then was an embarrassingly burdening trek on its own.

But she let it slide. How could she not? She was upset and this was how she coped. That’s what she kept reminding herself as she boiled more and more pasta watching the days pass her by without realisation, but now, she’s beginning to question if this was the best idea. Pushing all thoughts of him out of her mind by not looking at her phone just in case he called or texted. But she was beginning to struggle.

It wasn’t his fault. He didn’t know what inner turmoil she was facing. He seemed genuinely hurt when she snapped at him. He truly didn’t understand why she took so much offence to the playground ribbing, it seemed. And she had to go be a dick and ignore him. He was probably worried sick. How many times would he have called to check up on her? 10? 15? The more she thought about it, the more she wanted this stupid feud to be over and just be in his arms again, even if it’s just as a friend. So she caved. Turned on her phone, expecting there to be at least a call or a text asking if she was still alive or not. And although she did receive a message of that likeness, it wasn’t from Harry, no. It was from her daily water tracking app, pleading her to fill in her daily intake of water so as to not die of dehydration after she was suspected to have not drunk any for the entire week when in reality, she was just too in her head to open her stupid phone and log her water.

Wow, she thought.

Now not only has Harry chosen to not speak to you, but you also look like a huge idiot right now. Of course, he wouldn’t want to talk to you! You got pissed at him for absolutely no reason and now he hates you. He’s gonna ask for his cardigan and track pants that he keeps at your house in case he wanted to sleepover. He’s going to take back all of his little knick-knacks that he leaves over, like the cute diffuser that he leaves because he knows you need it for your constant hay-fever that blocks your nose and then he’s going to declare that you aren’t friends anymore and then you will never get the chance to tell him how you feel and then-

Her panicky brooding is interrupted by a knock on the door.

“Who the hell could that be?”, she thinks. It was too late for it to be the postman with her package containing her entire Amazon wish list that she bought on the third day of mourning to make herself feel better. But it couldn’t be Mrs Xiao asking her if she had any holes in her shirts that needed stitching. The sweet old lady fell asleep at 8:37 pm sharp after her medicine that she’d take at 8:30 pm would kick in (which she learnt after spending nights over at her apartment where her niece, Mei, took care of her. Y/n would learn traditional recipes like baozi and watch movies with her two friends all the time). It couldn’t be Mei either, she was always in online uni lectures from 8:30-10:30 pm, locked away in her little study, so as to not bother or be bothered. So now, a little panicked, Y/n wondered who was truly at her door?

Another two knocks come, echoing off the walls of her little apartment as she turns down the volume of the program she was watching. She stares at the door from her couch, debating whether she should risk getting stabbed by a possible murderer or not, before ultimately deciding that life was too short. She was also getting sick and tired of the knocks that kept arriving in threes. She swings her legs off the couch and onto the floor, pushing them into her slippers so that her feet wouldn’t touch the cold floor, waddling her way to the door before shyly opening it, peeking at who it could be through the tiny crack in the opening, hoping whoever it was wouldn’t mind her current state: belly filled with pasta, hair knotty, giant shirt with sweatpants on and Harry’s patchwork cardigan hanging off her shoulders- which she had been wearing all day, cherishing the pretty piece of clothing and his scent imbedded in it, taking it all in just in case he asks for it back. She peeps at the torso of this mystery person, realising that Harry owns the jumper worn by them, before looking up and locking eyes with a worn out and tired eyed Harry, one hand in the pocket of the familiar hoodie and another extended out near the door, ready to knock again before freezing when it opens up all the way to show herself to her best friend. He doesn’t eye her up and down cheekily like he normally does when she is wearing pyjamas, wolf-whistling at her relaxed state, claiming that “You look runway-ready, my love! Do a twirl for the crowd, will you?”. Instead, he stares her right in the eyes with what looks like almost relief, before smiling a weak and broken smile.

One of them needed to break the silence or both would have just stared at each other in her doorway until the world exploded. So she starts.

“Hi.” her voice hovers a tinge above a whisper, almost as though if she dared to speak louder, this probable illusion of the one she loves would fade away. He lights up a little bit, probably relieved that she started the conversation.

“Hey,” his soft voice matched her volume and tone as if he too didn’t want this to be a dream. “May I come in?” The words sound awkward to her coming out of his mouth. Harry never had to ask for permission to be invited in- he usually just strolled in without so much as a holler to indicate he was present, finding amusement in scaring her instead while she was doing whatever she was doing, whether that be reading, watching a movie, cooking or napping. They were the best of friends and never had to inquire about entry to each other’s domains, along with other small things like if they had anything in their kitchens to eat or if they could sit somewhere, so hearing it was a little disheartening and provoked Y/n to think about how serious this situation was.

“Okay”, she replied after the pause of contemplation, opening the door fully so that the lanky boy could follow along behind her, like a little puppy. She didn’t like how awkward the situation was. She just wanted things to go back to what they were.

But then you wouldn’t be able to tell him you love him... her inner voice argued. And she agreed. She knew that yes, this will be awkward, but it’s an opportunity for him to listen to her and know that she isn’t joking.

“Would you like some tea?” She enquires. They’ll need to handle this like proper grown-ups (which in all honesty, isn’t their dynamic- it’s more like first-year uni students who are mature enough to have deep conversations but still laugh at dad jokes and anything remotely serious, like a painting with boobs), and from what she knows, or has seen in movies when the characters are being serious, is that you need tea or a drink of that sort and a sit down on the couch where you talk stuff out. So that’s exactly what she does.

“Yes please,” Harry’s soft voice replies as he toes off his boots that most definitely cost more than her apartment. Y/n nods and heads to the small kitchenette and flips the switch on the electric kettle before going into her cupboard that housed the mugs. Harry stood awkwardly near the sofas, and to save him the embarrassment of waiting while standing, Y/n invites him to sit with a small, “You can take a seat,” and a quick glance at him before returning her gaze to the mugs to make herself look busy. She didn’t want to look him in the eyes for more than three seconds in fear of bursting into tears and the worn out and tired sight of him. She shakes the thought out of her head and begins to prepare the mugs.

Y/n put two teabags in her mug while putting one in Harry’s. She was raised in a household of avid tea drinkers and she inherited her strong tea quirk from her father who would always keep two teabags with only a dash of milk, and the only difference between her tea and her fathers was that Y/n wasn’t strong enough to take her tea without sugar, unlike her father, who thought that drinking unbelievably concentrated leaf juice with milk was a fun and relaxing time. On the other hand, Harry liked to keep one tea bag in his mug while he drank it, but just like her father, he too took little to no sugar with his cup, being the health freak he was. And early in their friendship, when she mentioned it to him, Harry chuckled and chirped, “Your father is a smart man. He has to be for raising amazing and talented people like your siblings. I’m not sure what went wrong with you though...” while booping her nose as they laid together under a tree for a little picnic. And though she rolled her eyes at him and punched his shoulder for the sly dig at her, she was practically beaming at the fact that he thought her family was smart. Harry had no idea how much that meant to her. Y/n loved her entire family, and she was unbelievably close to them, so it made her entire week to know that Harry, someone she respected and loved so much, recognised how talented and smart each of her family members were. Don’t get her wrong, she didn’t need the validation to know that her family was amazing, but she felt so special knowing he took the time to notice. He did that a lot though. Doing things that meant a lot to her without batting an eye. Saying things that only a person as observant as he could notice, like complimenting her eye colour in the light and asking her to read for him because he constantly mentions how much he loves her voice.

Y/n looked over to the same sweet guy she fell head over heels for, who was sitting on her couch, fidgety as ever, and wondered if they would ever be the same after the very next moments to come. She didn’t want things to change between them, but she was dying inside knowing that he wasn’t hers. And getting over him was not in the question, after the fiasco that happened last week. She just wished she could get inside his head to sate her painful curiosity.

What is he thinking about?

What is she thinking about?

It’s the million-dollar question running through his mind. What was she pondering over as she made them tea? Did she want to talk to him? Was she mad that it took him so long to find the balls to face her? Was she as nervous as he was? Was she worried that they would never be the same again like he was?

He was going into panic mode, questioning everything, while probably looking stupid as ever. As much as he regretted how awkward things were now, and the fact that he instigated her to lash out at him a week ago, he was realising that he was not regretting the fact that he did it. He didn’t want her to go out with someone else, and she didn’t. And yes, of course, he feels bad-beyond bad, in fact- for making her cry, and wishes he could take it all back, he also sees this as an opportunity to tell her how he feels about her. He could finally tell her that he thinks about her all the time. About her soft smile, her bright eyes, her melodic laugh, her speaking voice that brings butterflies to his stomach. He could tell her about how he loses himself at work, the grocery store, fuck- even at events- thinking about what she was doing at her house. Was she under her blankets on her couch, watching some corny tv show? Was she baking her signature choc chip cookies that taste like the gods blessed every single biscuit on the tray before they were put in the oven? Was she knitting her cat, Chesnut, another rug to plonk herself down on, with her feet up on the ottoman as she listened to the 7 o’clock news on the radio? Was she writing a paper for another deadline? Something so sophisticated, like the exploration of white and male privilege and how it is ingrained in our society? Something that Harry tried to understand and research so that he could stay in the loop with his smart girl’s interests, but he always struggled with.

It was a huge insecurity of his. Not that his best friend was smarter than he was, no way. He treasured the fact that she could and would whip his ass at a debate on things like the state of the world, or human rights. She could school him on global politics, languages, maths, science, history and literally anything else, and he would be cheering her on. What he was insecure about was her realising that he was probably slowing her down in life. Y/n was well within her rights to kick him out of her life for being nothing but a freeloader and stopping her from reaching her full potential, what with him constantly stopping her from her own life to help him go through shit happening in his. Whenever he was sad, or confused, or upset, Y/n was the first person he would talk to and he feared that she would realise that he was probably taking advantage of her and stop talking to him. And that scared him. It scared him because he knew that she didn't need him at all, but he needed her to do anything in life. Every major and minor decision in his life has been approved by Y/n first, and not because she was a controlling friend who didn’t trust him with his own life, but because Harry needed her validation. Harry Styles, a world-famous superstar, had girls, guys and non-binaries at his feet, following his every beck and call. Harry Styles, who was on the cover of every magazine, known by every celebrity, dated only the most perfect of women, required validation from Y/n, a psychology major at a small university. Y/n, who liked to plan her day out on a to-do list, end up not doing anything on that to-do list and cry about it afterwards. Y/n, who breaks it down to “Murder She Wrote” by Chaka Demus & Pliers like it’s her last 4 minutes and 5 seconds alive on this Earth while making pancakes. Y/n, who cries more when she’s laughing while watching Tik Toks than she does during sad movies.

To celebrities, Y/n was nothing but a regular. But to Harry, she was all. She was the warmth of a sweater that you toss in the dryer for a few minutes to make it extra toasty. She was the pad of butter that you spread onto your pumpkin sourdough toast and it ends up being exactly the amount you wanted. She was the feeling when you are driving home from a long day of interviews and premiers, and you’re on the freeway and the windows down and you just… exist. She is the feeling you get when you watch Pride and Prejudice, and the relief of when you find the perfect word to end a lyric. She is when your shoes fit perfectly, and when you finish a book so utterly fulfilling that you lie there in a trance, looking up at your ceiling at 3 am, wondering how you could have been so lucky to be able to be blessed with an ending like the one you just read. Y/n was all those things and more.

And that’s why he had to tell her he loved her. No matter how scared he was.

***

The electric kettle is finished boiling the tea all too quickly as the bubbling comes to an end and the distinct click of the switch turning back off echoes around the silent apartment. Y/n had poured the scalding hot water into the two cups she had prepared stared into them.

It was time. She had tried to avoid this for as long as possible, but now it was the moment to face the music. She picked up the two mugs of tea and brought them to her lounge where Harry was sitting on her worn in green sofa, staring at her coffee table, eyebrows scrunched, pouted lips, deep in thought, before looking up at her with wide green eyes, and followed her to where she stood in front of him. She passed his mug to him before sitting on the comfy chair a few feet away from the sofa and from him, putting some distance in between them for her sake, so that she wouldn’t try to hug him and say sorry without saying what she needed to say first. Which she needed to start talking about now, so as not to sit in the awkward silence created by the two.

Say something!!

“So…’

Jesus fuck…. was that all you could think of? Wow. I am going to lose my best friend.

Y/n was choking.

“I am so sorry,” Harry’s voice intercepts, raspy from the lack of use, looking up from the coffee table he seemed so interested in. “I am so fucking sorry Y/n. I have no excuse as to why I was making fun of you that day. I pushed too far and I am a shit friend for not noticing that you were already on edge. It was so wrong of me and I am so sorry.” He stopped himself before he started to ramble, looking at her with eyes filled with an emotion she couldn’t decipher.

Y/n felt… unsatisfied. Why did she feel this way? He apologised, right? So why does she feel unfulfilled? Why does she want him to say more? He hit all of the points he had to for a standard apology, so why did she think he hadn’t done enough? Was it that little optimist in her brain hoping he would maybe reveal a slight attraction to her? Maybe tell her that he loves her, and has loved her forever and ever? Confess that she has bewitched him, body and soul so that she didn’t have to? God, was she an idiot. But a lovestruck idiot at that. She bites her tongue and replies.

“Harry, I forgive you. Although you were annoying as ever,” She rolls her eyes and smirks, while he lets out a breathy, half-assed chuckle, showing his acknowledgement at her attempt to ease the lowered yet still prevalent tension. She continues. “ I understand that you were just trying to have fun. I guess I was the one who irrationally lashed out . I am always okay with you poking fun at me, but I was just frustrated and tired and I took it out on you. I’m sorry for the improper communication and I’m sorry for pushing you away when we should’ve just talked…”

“I forgive you too. I think this was just miscommunication on both parts.” He stared into her eyes, almost as if he could sense the discontent in her, but chose to ignore it.

“I guess so.” She halfheartedly answered, not really knowing where to take the conversation next. They had both apologised, but evidently still had things to say. Well, Y/n had things to say, that’s for sure, but she was pretty sure that Harry wanted to say something too. He had that look on his face where he wanted to say something but was forcing himself not to.

What does he want to say? Why can’t he say it to my face? I mean, sure, I’m also hiding shit I wanna say, but I have an excuse. This could ruin our friendship. What does he have to say?

“Great,” Harry replies, trying to fill the awkward pauses and conversation that is being held. He still looked like he had something to say, but seemed like he was not budging.

Well, if he’s not saying anything, I’m not either. Why do I have to confess my feelings and put our friendship on the line if he isn’t even going to say what’s on his mind?

“So, are we good?”

“I don’t know. Are we? I mean, I forgive you and you forgive me, right?”

“Right… No yeah, we’re alright. We’re completely fine!” Y/n replies quickly. Why the fuck would you say that? You’re not fine.

There is a pregnant pause and Y/n has half a better mind to just get up, walk to the bathroom again with her head down and lock herself in there till he leaves again, because she cannot take this awkward conversation. Not with him. She shifts, ready to stand up to get some water, when Harry looks at her, confusion and slight panic setting into his face.

“Wait. I don’t think I’m fine…” She looks up at the boy sitting in front of her, reading the words from her mind like they were scribed on a piece of paper in the blackest of ink, permanent and bold. Her heart stuttered. What else did he want?

“Is everything okay, H?” she tentatively asks. He loses eye contact with her, gaze lowering towards the table in front of him

“I-” he pauses, trying to collect his thoughts while simultaneously trying to explain to her why he wasn’t okay. “I just- fuck” his head falls down, his face inches away from the hot tea in his hands, the humid steam billowing out of the mug and warming his elegant face as he takes a deep breath and tries once more to convey his thoughts. “I don’t want us to be friends again.”

Her heart stops. This could go one of two ways. He could either be confessing his hatred or his adoration for her, and either one would probably end with her imploding. She tries to take a neutral tone when she replies.

“What does that mean, H?”

He looks at her once more. “It’s not enough, Y/n... “

“What?” She is confused. Her friendship isn’t enough? How is she supposed to reply to that?

“I want more. I don’t want us to just be friends. I want to be more with you. I want to do more with you. I want to do things that friends… they shouldn’t do together…”

Is he trying to confess he likes her? Why, in all the ways you could speak, would he choose to speak like that?! She has had enough of him dawdling around his feelings. “Harry, stop being cryptic and fucking tell me what’s going on?!”

“I love you, Y/n! I fucking love you, Y/n. So much. And it is eating me from the inside out. I hate that we can’t be normal anymore, and I hate that you don’t love me the way I love you, but I cannot sit here and pretend everything is fine, because I love you.”

Y/n is stunned. Frozen in her spot. Can’t move, can’t speak, can’t breathe. Stuck in space, and stuck in time.

Holy fucking shit… he loves me…

While Y/n processes the life changing knowledge that her best friend loves her, her best friend conveniently sits next to her, wishing that he was dead for the letdown he was about to receive.

“Say something… please, for the love of God, say something!”

****

She looks up at Harry. Not Harry Styles, playboy, whore, singer, millionaire, but instead; Harry, her best friend of five years, reddened face out of embarrassment. She sees the mortality in his eyes. Feels his presence so heavily in the moment. She is in awe. True awe of him, and his ability to love her. And with that awe- and that stupid look on her face, she reaches up and cradles his face in her hands, brushing her thumbs softly over his plush pink lips. He stands just as still as her, barely breathing, as if it would shatter the fantasy to stardust and he would wake up in his bed, cold shivers running down his spine, as has happened previously whenever he thought of this moment, staring up at his ceiling at 3:40AM wondering why he thought of his best friend in such a way. She creeped closer to his face before stopping a breath away from him, and whispered.

“Is this okay?”

She looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, both never feeling so alive before. He wishes to tell her that she needn’t ask for his permission, and that he wants to kiss her forever. Eternally locked in an embrace that holds their souls together. But all he can muster is a weak and broken whisper back.

“Please,”

She can hold it for no longer, and leans in the rest of the way, their lips moulding together, for the very first time, eyes fluttering close, as his hands reach to grab her by the hips to straddle him, deepening the kiss even further. And when they part for breath, panting for air with slightly moist lips, they touch foreheads, eyes still closed. Words needn’t be exchanged- everything that yearned to be said was useless, as it could never describe how they truly felt for each other. So hopelessly besotted with one another, that all they could do was breathe together before kissing once more, hoping that their actions could provide even an iota of an idea of how much they love one another.

Two best friends, turned lovers forevermore.

#by bug #harry styles angst #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #harry styles #harry styles fluff #hope you have a wonderful day my little pots of sweet tea!

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absoloutenonsense · 3 years

Photo

“Sorry,” Harry’s voice comes through, sounding a little further away this time. His voice gets clearer the longer he talks. “I’m sorry, I dropped the phone.”

“Oh, that’s okay.”

It’s quiet for a moment. Louis listens to Harry’s breathing and tries not to panic that he’s already done something wrong. Other than, you know, pretending to be an operator when he’s actually just the guy who connects the call. He has absolutely no training and no idea what to do. Sure, he’s done a bit of dirty talk with some past partners, but nothing so official. He’s not prepared on how to handle the silence.

“Sorry,” Harry says again. “I’m sorry, I really wanted to jump right in, but I think I’m too nervous.” He sighs. “Maybe this was a bad idea.”

“Hey,” Louis says, a little softer now from the distress in his voice. “It really is okay. I’m… I’m actually nervous too,” Louis says truthfully, looking at his computer screen and sighing.

Harry snorts. “Yeah sure.”

“What?”

“You do what, dozens of these calls a day? What’ve you got to be nervous about?”

“Truth be told,” Louis says, “I’m pretty new at this.” Started about two minutes ago, actually, he adds in his own head.

“Oh,” Harry says.

Ah, fuck. Maybe he shouldn’t have said that. Maybe Mr. Sexy Voice wanted someone worldly and experienced to walk him through this. Louis rolls his eyes at his own stupidity.

“That makes me feel better, actually,” Harry says then.

Oh. Okay. Okay, Louis can work with this. He loves comforting people. He can muscle his way through this.

“Good,” Louis says. “So… what did you do today?”

Harry giggles, and it makes Louis smile.

“We can start as slow as you want,” Louis says. “We can just talk, if you want. It doesn’t have to be, you know, that.”

Harry sighs. “But I do want that.”

“Okay,” Louis says, drawing out the ‘o’ a little in what he hopes comes across as understanding-but-curious.

“It’s just… so like…” He huffs. “I suppose… I don’t know you so I can just, like, say it right? Because I don’t know you and you can’t hold this against me and it doesn’t really matter.”

“Of course.”

“Right so, I’m just sort of starting the process of kind of… coming out. Maybe.”

Louis blinks at his monitor and feels his heart go a bit soft at that. “Congratulations,” he says.

“Thanks,” he says in an unsure voice.

“No really,” Louis reassures. “Even if you had the easiest time in the history of the world, there’s always that bit of stress, isn’t there? The build up, the fear… probably judgement from at least a couple of your dad’s friends who no longer know how to talk to you if it’s not about girls.”

That gets a big laugh from Harry. “Sounds like you know from personal experience.”

Louis raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side, shrugging even though no one’s there to see him. “Had a barbecue after finishing secondary school, just about a month after I’d told everyone, and three of my stepdad’s friends tried to ask me if I was going to uni for fashion. Not slagging off fashion or anything, but it was like they completely forgot I’d gotten a football scholarship. Would’ve rather them try to pretend to know anything about that instead.”

Harry giggles and the sound is tinny, like he’s pulled the phone away from his mouth.

“My nana asked me if it meant I didn’t believe in God anymore and my grandad bought me lipstick for my birthday last month.”

Louis laughs. “Did you wear it to mess with them?”

“Nah,” Harry says. “Gave it to my sister. It was a coral… so not my shade.”

“Love a man who knows his color wheel.”

Harry lets out a hiccup-y laugh. “Of course. I got it in my gay lifestyle welcome kit.”

“Oh, are they still giving those out? How many different flavoured condoms did you get?”

“None, unfortunately, for those of us who are too scared to even think of approaching a man they fancy.”

Louis smiles down at his keyboard. “There’s no need to rush, you know,” he says. “You don’t have to dive straight into chatting up blokes.”

“I know, I’m diving gay in.”

Louis pauses as the pun hits him, and then he groans. Harry’s giggling as he says, “That was awful.”

“Puns aren’t supposed to be good.”

“Yeah, but there’s not good and then there’s I-may-never-laugh-again terrible.”

“Oh no!” Harry says. “You’ve got such a lovely laugh. I’d be torn to bits if I was the reason you never laughed again.”

Louis feels himself blush a little. Which is just absolutely ridiculous. This isn’t flirting, Louis reminds himself. Harry is paying to talk to you, you’re providing a service. Man up for fuck’s sake.

“You sound angelic,” Louis says, wincing as he tries to gauge whether or not that sounds too cringe or not.

“Hmm,” Harry hums thoughtfully. “Can I be honest? Like maybe too honest?”

Louis pauses and then nods, before realizing again, Harry can’t see him. “Yes.”

“I don’t like your sexy voice.”

A laugh is startled out of Louis. “What?”

“I’m sorry!” Harry says, an edge of laughter to that as well. “I’m sure I’m the nutter here, like the only one who doesn’t, but I can’t help it. All I can picture is someone holding a rose in between their teeth and wiggling their eyebrows and it’s just not working for me.”

Louis is in absolute bits at that image, doubled over in his chair.

“Honest! It’s like you’re wearing a fedora and about to tell me my eyes look like a plush forest.”

Louis’ wheezing.

“That nothing means anything in the world if I’m not the girl by your side!”

“Okay, okay, enough!” he says. “Enough, enough. I get it. Gone, it’s gone. Oh fuck my stomach hurts. Christ, I haven’t laughed that hard in ages.”

Harry lets out a pleased noise on the other end of the line.

“So no voices,” Louis says. “What’re you into then?”

“Dunno,” Harry says, and then he sighs. “I feel like I haven’t had the chance to figure it out yet.”

“Well, here’s the perfect place to start, love. You’ve already shit all over me voice—”

“Just the fake sexy voice!” Harry interrupts.

“—so I think we can be open and honest with each other. What do you think you’d like? What’ve you liked before?”

Louis watches the screen in front of him go black from being idle for so long. His heart picks up as he rushes to keep it on, and panic-checks his logs. Okay, okay, Sam and Patrick are free now, but no one’s waiting in the queue thank god.

“Suppose I like to be taken care of,” Harry says quietly. “And taking care of someone else. The last— like the relationship I was in before… it was all about making her feel good, for me.”

Louis nods and makes a noise to show he’s listening.

“I like being held.”

“Mhm.”

“And I like… ugh, I’m really not sure.”

“That’s okay,” Louis’ quick to say. “It’s all okay, Harry. There’s no wrong answers for what you like.”

“I feel like ‘I don’t know’ isn’t a great one.”

“It’s an honest one,” he says sincerely. “You wanted me to pretend I was your boyfriend at the start, right?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathes out. “Everything else just feels to much, y’know? Like I just want to be good at things straight away, or at least pretend I’m good at them.” He chuckles a little hollowly. “Suppose I mucked that up quite quickly here.”

“C’mon,” Louis says. “I’m so happy you let me know.” And he is. He feels much more relaxed now, like he’s talking to a friend, or maybe a long-term boyfriend, if he had one of those recently. “We’ve gotten to know each other a bit, which is nice. But we don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. We have been on for nearly twenty minutes now, and I’m sure your credit card will feel that in the morning. We can call it a night, if you want?”

Oi, Louis, shut the fuck up about ending calls early, he thinks. That’s gotta be like, rule number one of phone-sex-operating.

A pause. In a quiet voice, he hears Harry say, “No.”

Louis can’t help but smile. “Should we try again? From the top?” Harry giggles and immediately, Louis adds, “Don’t you dare make a topping joke.”

Which makes Harry laugh really hard for a full minute before it drifts out into soft, lovely giggles.

#operator au #1000 feelings fic #really trying to crack down and write this one now #life has just been a lot ya know #but excited to get more into this #this is much longer than a proper snippet should be rip #many lovely people have tagged me in a variety of things over the last few weeks!#thank you all! I appreciate the tag! I've just been low motivation recently #so it goes!

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

Text

Long Way From Home: Chapter 11

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Teen Genre: Family/Friendship Characters: Scott, Tracy Family

I... totally forgot to update last week. Oops. Lab time’s started so uni got a little distracting. Also you guys seemed to love the hoodie thing so I figured that had you satisfied for a little while :P (if you haven’t seen it, @louthestarspeaker did some amazing art for that!)

No warnings for this chapter (wow, it’s been a while), unless you think Scott being a flirt needs a warning.

<<<Chapter 10

“So where are we going now?” Scott asked, changing the topic.

“Your call,” Other-Gordon shrugged, even though Scott was fairly sure he had a destination in mind from the way he was driving. There was no hesitation about their route. “We can take a break and get ourselves a bite to eat, or we can get the rest of the shopping done and find food after.”

Scott mentally ran through what they had left to get. “How likely are the paparazzi to hound us for the rest of the day?” he asked.

“Most likely they’ll be asking around what we were buying for a while,” Other-Gordon told him. “After that, it depends how interesting they find us, and if they can find us again.”

Scott drew the line at paparazzi squawking about his choice of underwear, and sighed. “Might as well get those underpants now, then,” he said.

“If you’re sure,” Other-Gordon said. He sounded dubious, but Scott glanced at him and saw concern, rather than disagreement.

“I’m sure,” he said firmly. “Unless you’re about to tell me I’ll need fittings for that because if that’s the case then I’m sticking with what I’ve got.”

Other-Gordon laughed. “Well, it’s lucky for all of us that there won’t be any fittings in the next shop, then,” he grinned. “Underpants, socks and pyjamas are all in the same place. We’re sticking with Scott’s usual haunts now,” he added. “Less for the paparazzi to get their teeth into.”

Scott swallowed, thankful for the heads’ up. Typically, sharp ginger eyes didn’t miss it.

“Say, we didn’t get to have that chat about a pattern yet, did we?” Other-Gordon commented. Scott sighed.

“I should be fine,” he said.

“Scott.” The disappointment was clear. “I can’t help you if you don’t let me.”

He was right but that didn’t stop Scott disliking it.

“If I’m expecting it, it’s fine,” he clarified, although Other-Gordon’s raised eyebrow said things were still as clear as mud.

“Expecting what.” It wasn’t a question, but an expectation, and Scott sighed.

“People that know your brother,” he admitted. “The paparazzi, being recognised in the streets… they’re one thing. That’s fine.”

“It’s people who know Scott,” Other-Gordon finished for him. Scott nodded. “That explains Madeleine, but not George. Jones… We weren’t with him long enough for him to notice anything?” Scott nodded again. “So, George is the opposite? We were with him too long?”

“Something like that,” Scott agreed. “He saw when I slipped and tried to use the catalogue like I would at home.”

Other-Gordon made a noise that sounded a little like a suspicion had been confirmed.

“I don’t know for sure if it’ll help,” he said. “But try to remember two things.”

Scott looked over at him again and resisted the urge to tell him to put both hands back on the wheel as one fist raised, a single finger extended.

“First, outside the airport no-one here knows Scott that well. Certainly not well enough to notice any small differences. Even your voice might not be enough to raise most people’s suspicions, that’s mostly a precaution. They’re not going to see one small slip and peg you as an imposter. Scott doesn’t go shopping much, and he prefers going to Kansas or New York for the most part. Auckland’s only for short day trips. Anyone acting familiar outside of the airport is doing exactly that. They’re acting.” A second finger raised. “Secondly, you’re Scott Tracy. You might not be my Scott, but you’re still Scott Tracy. Have a little faith in yourself.”

“Aren’t you watching me and logging all the differences between us?” Scott asked, and Other-Gordon rolled his eyes. He did, thankfully, at least put his hand back on the wheel.

“That’s how I know you can pull this off,” he said. “There are differences, but they’re ones I see because I’m family. Tom, Dick and Harry aren’t going to notice a jot.”

“George did.”

“George saw you doing something weird,” Other-Gordon shrugged. “No more catalogues, no more swishy fingers.”

“Swishy fingers?”

“You looked like you were conducting an orchestra,” Other-Gordon told him bluntly.

Okay, Scott could see that.

“Hold your head high and pretend you own the place,” the ginger advised. “We won’t be in this shop long.” He pulled into another car park, next to a sleek building advertising Outstanding Private Garments for the Gentleman. “But if that doesn’t work, remember four for Four,” he added. “Three if you just need some space.”

Despite himself, Scott found himself grinning. “Three for Three, four for Four,” he repeated. “I can remember that.” Associating the numbers with Thunderbirds was simple, but definitely effective.

“Whatever helps you remember,” Other-Gordon shrugged. “But like I say, we shouldn’t be in here long. Ready?”

In answer, Scott plucked at the lever in the side of the door, letting it open. Other-Gordon took the hint.

The inside of the shop was much more like Lemaires’, if less filled with customers, than the workshop store had been. The class difference was painfully obvious, and Scott found himself wondering why rich meant stuffy here. It was going to be a relief when he could shuck off Other-Scott’s clothes – still too smart for Scott’s liking even if it was clearly supposed to be casual wear – and put on something that fit his own definition of casual.

Not-Dad could scowl about undone buttons and rolled up sleeves all he wanted, but if Scott was going to suffer being in a different universe, he’d at least do so comfortably.

A salesman headed over to them, apparently drawn like a magnet to the sniff of money, and Scott contentedly stayed back as Other-Gordon repeated their spiel about a lost voice and explained what they were after.

You’re Scott Tracy. It almost mirrored Not-Dad’s departing message remember you’re a Tracy, and Scott wondered if this was what the older man had meant. He threw a grin in the salesman’s direction when the man looked at him, kept his back straight and hands – both of them – in his pockets.

Just doing that made him feel like he really did belong there. It was a dangerous thought, and Scott quickly clarified to himself that by there he meant in the shop, and not in this universe, because he certainly did not belong in the latter and couldn’t wait to get home.

As the man led them down aisles, presumably towards the underwear Other-Gordon had specified, he caught a look of approval from the ginger.

It wasn’t much, just a brief curl of the corner of his mouth and a split second of eye contact out of the corner of his eye, but it lifted a weight Scott hadn’t noticed settling on his chest.

He could do this. It was just some clothes.

Some clothes in a different universe and subsequently different fashions. Apparently this universe had not yet discovered his preferred style, or at least didn’t offer them for Gentlemen. He pointedly ignored Other-Gordon watching him even as he nattered away to the salesman, no doubt keeping him distracted, and mentally ran through the options in front of him.

Comfort and practicality were both important, and it was with that in mind that he made his selection, hoping he wouldn’t notice the difference too much when he was wearing them. He didn’t know how often they did laundry, but in a vain hope he wouldn’t be in this universe for too long, he grabbed a week’s worth before turning back to the other men.

Other-Gordon’s face betrayed nothing about his selection, but he did obligingly prod the salesman into leading them to the socks.

Once again, fashion differences made themselves known as trainer and ankle socks seemed to be entirely absent from the choices, leaving Scott with the simple choice of what pattern he wanted on the calf-high woollen offerings. They reminded him more than a little of soccer socks, and he kept half an eye on Other-Gordon as a yellow pair found their way into the selection amongst the blues, whites and blacks. To his frustration, the ginger seemed to have pulled on a poker face, no doubt anticipating that Scott would try and throw him again with colour selection.

Still, even that gave him some sort of sense of normalcy, which in turn kept him calm and focused on what they needed to do, and not what anyone else was thinking of him. Other-Gordon keeping up a stream of chatter with the salesman – whose name Scott realised he still hadn’t caught – was enough to quell the last of the what-ifs, and even selecting a few pairs of pyjamas was much less of a trial than it could have been.

Even if Scott really wished he could just wear a tatty old t-shirt and shorts like he defaulted to at home. Unfortunately, Gentlemen apparently wore sleeping shirts made of cotton with matching full-length trousers, much like the ones he’d woken up in earlier that morning, and once again had a limited selection that seemed to mostly vary in the shape of the collar and length of the arms.

Assuming that this universe’s Tracy Island tended towards the same temperatures as his home, he opted for mostly thinner, short-sleeved choices, and ignored the many patterned ones in favour of plain where he could. Blue, yes, but there was also dark grey and another red and black chequered pattern he couldn’t bring himself not to choose.

Amber eyes narrowed at the final selection, Other-Gordon logging it and no doubt wracking his brain for anything that might be inspiring his now second choice for that combination. Scott was mostly hopeful he wouldn’t figure it out, but the other man had proven himself to be extremely sharp. There was always a chance he would.

“That seemed like it went better,” the ginger commented once the clothes were paid for and they were back in the car. The engine purred, although the car was still in neutral and Other-Gordon was leaning back in the seat. Scott hoped the fuel was as carbon neutral here as it was at home.

‘Went better’ wasn’t a hard thing to surmise, considering it was the first shop Scott hadn’t had a full-blown panic attack in – or any real panic at all. “What helped?”

They had one shop left to go, by Scott’s estimation, and no doubt he was going to have to interact with strangers again for it. Even at home, shoe shopping still required checking they fit, so he didn’t dare hope it would be avoidable here. After the reprieve of the relatively easy experience he’d just had, he hoped he could hold it together long enough to get a couple of pairs of sneakers.

“No fittings,” he said dryly when Other-Gordon cleared his throat meaningfully. “It was easier to ignore everyone else.”

“That’s not going to be possible when we get the shoes,” Other-Gordon reminded him, and he sighed.

“I know,” he said. “But I can handle it.”

“Do you want that café break now?”

Scott shook his head. “Let’s get this over with,” he said. “Putting it off won’t make it easier.”

“If you’re sure,” Other-Gordon replied, but there was no dubiousness in his tone this time. Scott suspected he wasn’t the only one relieved at the success in the latest shop. The ginger shifted the car into drive and then they were rolling out onto the streets again. “How many shoes are you thinking of?”

“Two should be enough,” Scott shrugged. “Both sneakers.”

“No sandals?” Other-Gordon looked surprised. Scott shook his head again.

“I won’t need those,” he said. “Two pairs of sneakers will be plenty.”

“Well, I suppose you can always steal Scott’s shoes if you end up needing anything else,” the other man mused. “You’ll need protective boots before you get in the hangars properly,” he added, “but we can’t get those here.”

“I have protective boots,” Scott reminded him.

“Only when Brains isn’t prodding at them,” Other-Gordon pointed out. “I didn’t look at your boots that closely but they looked weird.”

“I’m almost certainly going to think the same thing about yours when I see them properly,” Scott shrugged. “They’re protective enough. Not quite as heavy duty as Virgil’s, but they’re still superior to steel caps.”

“Sounds useful,” Other-Gordon commented. “We’re here.”

That had been a considerably shorter drive than any of the others. Scott made to get out of the car, but a hand on his arm stopped him.

“Scott got new sneakers recently,” Other-Gordon warned him. “So the chaps here will remember him.”

The pressure that had lifted with the last shop made its return known with a vengeance, and Scott grit his teeth. The hand on his arm tightened, grounding him, and he glanced over at Other-Gordon.

“Will it help if I go over the story with you now?” the ginger asked, serious eyes meeting his through the shades. “Remember, they might remember him, but they don’t know him. Behave like you did in the last shop and everything will be fine.”

“The story?” Scott asked, taking a deep breath.

“That you like them enough to want more,” Other-Gordon clarified. “As for your hand; you slipped over by the pool and grazed it.”

Scott hadn’t even considered his hand, and that he’d need to be using it.

“Scott, are you okay to go in or do you want that café break first?” Other-Gordon asked, seriousness laced all through the words. Scott swallowed. Instinct told him he was going to struggle, but his pride rebelled at the idea of running away.

His lack of an immediate answer seemed to be all Other-Gordon needed as he shoved the car back into drive.

“Wait-” Scott protested as he realised they were leaving. Sharp amber eyes looked at him.

“What did you have for breakfast this morning?”

Breakfast? Scott blinked, caught out by the question.

“All you’ve had since you got here was Grandma’s apple pie,” Other-Gordon continued. “Now, I don’t know about you, but I’m starting to feel mighty peckish, and I had a nice, leisurely breakfast after my swim this morning.”

Now that he’d mentioned it, Scott realised the churning in his stomach might not be entirely looming panic. He didn’t actually remember breakfast. There was that early morning call-out; he’d chugged a coffee during John’s briefing then gone to pluck the climber from the mountain, and then returned home with the intent of catching a couple more hours of sleep before properly facing the day.

Food, he realised, hadn’t featured at all. He’d left One, somehow fallen through a universe collision, and then ended up here.

“Coffee,” he eventually answered.

“And?”

Scott shrugged. “Early morning callout. Bed was the plan when I got back.”

“Hold on a moment,” Other-Gordon said. “You’re telling me that slice of apple pie’s the only thing you’ve eaten in… how long?”

“I ate dinner last night,” Scott defended himself.

“Gee.” Other-Gordon shook his head. “That settles it. We’re going to a café and you’re going to eat.”

Scott didn’t have an argument for that one, and his stomach made its agreement known by grumbling at him suddenly. Other-Gordon laughed.

“We’ve got all day,” he reminded him. “We can take our time, remember?”

Scott sighed, but knew when he was beaten. “You got a place in mind?”

“A few,” Other-Gordon said. “Say, you don’t have any allergies, do you?”

“Nothing I’m aware of,” he assured him.

“In that case,” the ginger said. “The Nine Bells has some private booths and a good menu.”

The name wasn’t familiar to Scott, but he hadn’t spent much time in Auckland for the sake of sight-seeing – or shopping – so he didn’t know if it didn’t exist in his universe or if he’d just never had cause to go near it.

“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, and Other-Gordon shot him a grin.

“They serve apple pie,” he promised, and Scott rolled his eyes. Even he’d noticed Other-Scott’s fondness for the food, so it was no surprise at all that Other-Gordon had his favourite dessert pegged already. “And their coffee’s good.”

“What about their tea?” Scott asked, keeping a straight face as he got the double-take reaction he was hoping for.

“You drink tea?” Other-Gordon asked. Scott shrugged.

“Only in England.”

Other-Gordon huffed, and Scott let the threatening grin creep onto his face. “I should have seen that coming,” the ginger grumbled. “You’re terrible.”

“I’m a big brother,” Scott shrugged. “Can’t let the younger ones win all the time.”

“Definitely a Scott,” Other-Gordon muttered, shaking his head. “Let’s get some food in you.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Scott agreed. Now that he was aware of the gnawing hunger, it clearly had no intentions of letting him forget about it.

The rest of the drive passed in silence, and Scott let himself properly look out at the streets as they drove through. Much of it was unfamiliar to him; shop fronts were styled differently, and there were no holograms lighting up sales as they tried to entice customers to browse. That was no doubt entirely due to the difference in technologies, although he was getting the impression that even society seemed to be subtly different at times.

If Other-John and Other-Brains couldn’t find a quick way to get him back and he was stuck here for a while until they figured it out – and they would figure it out, because Scott couldn’t afford to think otherwise – he was going to have a lot to learn even though he doubted he’d be leaving the island much, at least not as Scott Tracy. If he was going to be living here for a while, he was definitely going to get involved in International Rescue somehow.

He couldn’t imagine sitting back and watching others do what was his job without stepping in to help, and inaction was never his style.

“Everything alright?” Other-Gordon asked suddenly. “You’ve gone quiet.”

Scott shrugged. “Just thinking,” he answered, not looking away from the passing buildings.

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

Scott rolled his eyes. Some things transcended universes, apparently.

“Penny for your thoughts?” the ginger continued. Scott wondered if he was worried he was spiralling again.

“Just about-” he cut himself off, remembering that even if they were in the car they were out in public – a public that didn’t know about International Rescue’s identity. “The family business,” he hedged.

“Yours or ours?”

“Yours, mostly,” Scott admitted. “Where I’ll fit in.”

“Dad won’t say no,” Other-Gordon assured him. “It’s short-staffed for obvious reasons, but those don’t apply to you. I know the two of you aren’t seeing eye to eye right now, and I won’t lie – working out where you sit in the hierarchy is going to take a lot of compromise, mostly on your end – but if you’re going to be hanging around, you might as well make yourself useful.”

It was the second time Other-Gordon had confidently said he’d be able to join their International Rescue, although Scott was well aware there’d be a lot of difficulty fitting in.

He’d been Commander of his International Rescue longer than this International Rescue had been operating. But he didn’t know their technology, their limits and procedures. Even the jargon was different.

“I’m not afraid of hard work,” he said, and Other-Gordon laughed.

“No-one’s going to doubt that,” he promised. “You don’t do well sitting around, do you?”

“Another shared trait?” Scott assumed dryly. To his surprise, Other-Gordon shrugged.

“I think you’re worse for it,” he admitted. Startled, Scott looked away from the passing buildings to regard Other-Gordon again. “Scott doesn’t do well sitting around all the time, but that doesn’t stop him lounging for a few hours with the rest of us.” Amber eyes glanced over at him. “I get the feeling you’ve forgotten how to.”

That was getting dangerously close to Dad’s crash again, never mind the fact that Other-Gordon was right. His own brothers had got on his case about it enough for Scott to know he hadn’t relaxed in years. Not properly.

“I remember how,” he muttered, the words coming out more defensively than he’d intended.

“Something tells me you’re not going to be demonstrating that knowledge,” Other-Gordon challenged, once again right because he was entirely too sharp. Scott knew he wouldn’t be able to relax at all until he was home and knew his brothers were all safe and well. “I’m not going to stop you,” the ginger continued. “But don’t burn yourself out.”

“I won’t,” Scott promised.

Other-Gordon’s silence loudly proclaimed that he expected otherwise but knew better than to call him out on it. Scott appreciated it; that was a heavy enough conversation for his liking.

There had been a lot of those on this shopping trip, despite him choosing Other-Gordon to avoid them. It would have been so much worse if he’d come with anyone else.

Part of him wasn’t looking forwards to getting back, because then he’d have the whole island watching him again. He also, he realised, needed to apologise to Other-Virgil for brushing him off so abruptly, even if he was glad he’d stood his ground against Not-Dad.

Dealing with Not-Dad on a regular basis was definitely going to be the hardest part of this universe. Scott knew he was going to have to talk to the man, especially if he was going to join their International Rescue, but he looked just like Dad, and even now his chest hurt when he thought about it.

“We’re here,” Other-Gordon said, pulling into a car park in front of a large building that proclaimed The Nine Bells in a neat cursive. It looked fancy, but then Other-Gordon had said they offered private booths, which Scott was well aware they’d need.

He followed the ginger into the building, where they were promptly greeted by a waitress.

“Good afternoon, sirs,” she chirped. “A table for two?” Her eyes were firmly fixed on him, and he knew he was wearing shades but she was pretty cute so he sent her a wink and a grin anyway.

She flushed red. Good to know he still had it in another universe.

“A private booth, please,” Other-Gordon said, stepping forwards and – ow – onto Scott’s foot. Well, if he wanted him to be himself, then he was going to flirt with the pretty girls, regardless of whether or not he could talk.

“Of course,” she stammered, still looking at him rather than the Tracy that was actually talking to her. “This way.” Still bright red, and throwing glances at him over her shoulder, she slipped between the public tables until they came to a concealed privacy booth, no doubt for their richer customers. Scott supposed Tracys counted. She hovered as they both slid into seats, before placing menus in front of both of them – him first. He thanked her with another grin, and got a nudge in the shin from Other-Gordon.

“Would you like a jug of water?” she asked him. Other-Gordon jumped in with the affirmative, and she hurried off to get it.

“Must you flirt with the waiting staff?” the ginger asked after she was gone. Scott shrugged.

“She’s pretty,” he said. Other-Gordon rolled his eyes.

“If it makes you happier,” he sighed, and Scott definitely heard the underlying relief there that something was cheering him up.

“I’ll take the small victories where I can get them,” he confirmed, pulling the menu down in front of him. “I don’t suppose you’ll take her number for me?”

“Not under false pretences,” the other man retorted. Scott scowled; he had a point. Other-Gordon shook his head and grinned. “At least you’re looking happier.”

“Until you stole my fun,” Scott grumbled, but he knew Other-Gordon was right. He couldn’t flirt seriously with anyone while he was pretending to be Other-Scott.

“Just choose something from the menu,” Other-Gordon told him. “Several somethings, if this is really your first meal today. Grandma will have my hide if you pass out on me.”

“I’m not going to pass out,” Scott protested, but he looked at the menu anyway.

Food, it seemed, was the same across universes. It wasn’t much hassle to find something he liked – he’d never been a particularly picky eater, and from the amused looks on Other-Gordon’s face, the ginger could probably have ordered for him without even asking.

“The same?” he asked resignedly.

“Near enough,” Other-Gordon shrugged. “Coffee?”

The waitress reappeared before Scott could give a verbal answer, so he nodded as she set the water and two glasses down on the table.

“Are you ready to order, sirs?” she asked, once again fixed on him as she withdrew a notebook from her apron and held a pencil up, poised to write.

Rolling his eyes, Other-Gordon placed the order for both of them. She looked a little put out that Scott, for all his grinning, wasn’t actually saying a word to her, and clearly Other-Gordon wasn’t feeling like a generous enough wingman to tell her that he couldn’t talk.

She hovered for a moment longer after writing down the order, but Other-Gordon looked away from her in a clear dismissal, and Scott reluctantly followed suit, leaving her scurrying away a little disappointedly.

“Now I seem fickle,” Scott huffed once she was out of earshot. Other-Gordon looked amused, smirking in an annoying little brother manner.

“You’re telling me you’re not going to start smiling at the next pretty woman you see?” he asked. Scott rolled his eyes.

“That’s not the point,” he denied.

“I disagree,” Other-Gordon retorted. “Gee, you’d think they’d give the Olympic Champion the time of day, at least.”

“Not all the girls care about gold medals,” Scott smirked. It was Other-Gordon’s turn to huff.

“They do when there’s no tall dark and handsome winking at them next to me,” he muttered. “If there’s one thing that’s not so good about the job, it’s the secrecy.”

“It’s not worth the headache.” That, Scott could say for certain. “Trust me.”

“I’ll trust your grey hairs,” Other-Gordon agreed, and Scott scowled at him. He put his hands up. “I promised not to ask questions and I won’t,” he said. “But if there’s anything you want to know, I’m available.”

“Here?” Scott asked, glancing around at the café. The privacy booth at least meant he could talk, but he wasn’t so sure Not-Dad would approve of International Rescue being discussed there.

“Well, maybe not here,” Other-Gordon conceded. “But any time.”

It was a comforting offer, especially after their first conversation where the man had physically and verbally cornered him and refused to let him near any of the Thunderbirds.

We’re on the same side. The offer was an extension of that promise, and Scott nodded in acknowledgement.

“I still want that tour,” he said, and Other-Gordon laughed.

“Well, that doesn’t surprise me,” he said. “I’ll have to clear it with Dad, but I’m positive I can convince him.”

That would be the first test to see if Not-Dad was, as Other-Gordon believed, going to be willing to let him join if they couldn’t immediately find a way to get him home. Scott really hoped Other-Gordon’s optimism was in the right place.

The younger man reached for the jug in the middle of the table and poured himself a glass before reaching for Scott’s. He pushed it closer with a nod of thanks and watched as it filled up before taking a drink. He hadn’t realised how thirsty he was until the liquid hit his throat, and before he’d realised it, the glass was empty.

Other-Gordon raised his own glass in a mimicry of a toast before taking his own draft.

“You’re not going to tell me the last drink you had was that tea you kept dropping, are you?” the ginger asked. Scott shook his head.

“Tin-Tin gave me coffee while we talked,” he said, grabbing the glass and pouring himself another measure before throwing that back as well.

“How did that go?” Other-Gordon asked. “Was it useful?”

“I think so,” Scott said, resting his elbow on the table and propping his chin on his hand. “Most of what we discussed were things you already knew. Otherwise, it was mostly technology differences.”

“Did she have any theories?” the other man asked, taking another drink of his water.

Scott shook his head.

“She just said she’d take it to your Brains,” he shrugged. “The others came back so we went back for the debrief.”

“Alan was mighty miffed with you then,” Other-Gordon commented. Scott had noticed. “I’m guessing he saw you two together?”

“We met him on the landing,” Scott confirmed. “He didn’t seem happy. Is there any particular reason he’s so…” He trailed off, trying to find a word to describe Other-Alan’s attitude in a way that wasn’t blatantly insulting.

“So Alan?” Other-Gordon asked. “Mostly it’s because he’s the youngest. Your Alan’s not like that?”

Scott scoffed. “If my Alan talked back like that he’d be grounded and he knows it. He’s younger than yours, but I’m not letting him grow up thinking he can get his own way all the time.”

“Aw, Alan’s not so bad,” the ginger said, clearly defending his younger brother. “Sure, he can be a bit of a pain, but he’s a little brother. Fame went to his head a bit after he kept winning races, and you didn’t make the best first impression on him by punching Scott, or breaking Dad’s nose.”

Scott sighed. “He wouldn’t tell me where my brothers were,” he explained. “Of course, at that point neither of us knew about this multiverse thing.” He eyed the younger man. “But by that logic, I didn’t make the best first impression on you, either.”

“You got that right,” Other-Gordon admitted. “You seemed too dangerous to let wander around, I’ll admit, but Grandma and Tin-Tin didn’t seem bothered by you and then Brains and John had their theory – which you near enough proved – and I figured I’d give you a chance, you know?”

“You interrogated me,” Scott corrected dryly. The other man shrugged.

“Details,” he dismissed. “You’re not so bad, you’re just out of your depth. Can’t say I blame you. I couldn’t say how I’d have reacted if it were me.” He paused for a moment. “How are you holding up?”

Scott huffed tiredly and ran a hand over his face, wincing when they snagged the shades he forgot he was wearing.

“Right now, I’m fine,” he said, his instincts rebelling against telling the truth – that the idea was enough to scare him, that he was terrified he couldn’t get home. Worried how his family were taking his disappearance. “Ask me again after it’s sunk in.”

“I’ll do that,” Other-Gordon promised, taking another drink from his glass. Amber eyes scanned him searchingly, and Scott met his gaze head-on, daring him to claim he wasn’t as fine as he was pretending.

If the ginger had noticed the façade, he didn’t comment. Then again, it was at that moment the waitress returned with a platter of sandwiches. At the sight and smell of them, Scott’s stomach growled loudly. The waitress was too shy to giggle, but he saw her eyebrows raise and he sent her a slightly sheepish grin before picking up one from the pile and toasting her with it.

Other-Gordon kicked him in the shins again. Scott ignored him.

“Your coffee will be ready in a moment,” she said, smiling at him with cheeks coloured a rosy blush. “Is there anything else I can get you right now?”

Your number, Scott thought, but Other-Gordon studiously avoided any eye contact with him as he dismissed the girl – without asking for her number, or explaining why he wasn’t talking. Little brothers were a nuisance whatever universe they were from, apparently.

Scott huffed at him once she was out of earshot and bit into the sandwich with a little more vigour than was strictly necessary.

Other-Gordon’s response was a mixture of exasperation and faint disapproval as he took his own pick from the platter to eat. “I told you, you’re not who she thinks you are,” he reminded him. “You can send all the flirty looks you want, I’m not asking for her number for you.”

“I know,” Scott sighed, swallowing the mouthful. “Oh, these are good.”

Other-Gordon grinned. “I told you the food here would be.”

“You did,” Scott acknowledged, polishing off the first one and grabbing another. He supposed that if he was going to be stuck in another universe for a while, at least there was good food.

The blushing waitress – whose name he never caught, but she didn’t offer it and Other-Gordon didn’t ask – kept coming back with more of their ordered food as they ate. The ginger devoured just as much as he did, proving he hadn’t been lying about his own hunger, and conversation was mostly dropped in favour of sustenance.

By the time the final dregs of Scott’s coffee were drained from the cup, he estimated they must have been there at least an hour, if not more. He still hadn’t figured out how to read the analogue dial on the watch, and was at loathe to ask while they were in public.

Still, he was conscious that there was still one shop left to go, and the sun’s steady march across the sky was unrelenting. They only had so much time, a fact supported by the way Other-Gordon checked his own watch before giving him a considering look.

“There’s an hour left until the shops close,” the ginger told him. “Do you want to give it another try, or should we head back to the island?” Scott raised an eyebrow at him. He was fairly sure the ginger knew what his answer was going to be.

Sure enough, he got a groan and a mutter about pushing yourself too hard, but Other-Gordon waved the waitress over for the bill without trying to change his mind.

Chapter 12>>>

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #gordon tracy #long way from home

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Modern Love, 1/12 (Branjie/Scyvie/Ninex) - Ortega

fic summary: Brooke Lynn is a 23 year old graduate writing boring, uninspired pieces for the fashion department of a newspaper and living in a city all her friends have moved away from. Silky is living at her parents’ house and spends her days applying for jobs she’s promptly rejected for. Nina and Monet are struggling through their first year as teachers whilst being sickeningly adorable girlfriends. Akeria is pursuing her dream of being a badass lawyer, even if her master’s degree is slowly crushing her soul. Plastique is acting like the second coming of Paris Hilton, so nothing there has changed. Scarlet is overworked and Yvie is underpaid and their relationship isn’t all it appears from the outside.

And Vanessa? Vanessa is nowhere to be seen.

(A story about a holiday, a breakup, friendships and relationships in a post-graduate world, careers, navigating life after university, figuring out what it means to be an adult, and coming to terms with the fact that we really are not nineteen forever.)

a/n: welcome to the sequel to Not Nineteen Forever!!! i should say it’s not *~ mandatory ~* to have read the original before this but it’s encouraged huehue xo hope u enjoy and please feel free to reblog, like and send love!!

***

Brooke felt the all-encompassing sense of dread wash over her as her alarm went off, the sounds of the radio that were gradually fading in doing nothing to make the experience of waking up for another day of work any more palatable. She groaned loudly as she stretched, her arms flying out to the side and hitting the edge of the double bed. Brooke starfished a little, stretching her legs out as long as they would go and trying to put off getting up and showered for as long as she could.

Rolling over in bed she reached for her phone and stopped when she saw the rose-gold rectangular frame beside her on the bedside table. It caught her by surprise every day, almost a sort of routine in itself. A picture of her and Vanessa from when they first moved in, standing at the doorway having just popped a bottle of champagne. Brooke’s face was in a funny contorted sort of smile as she yanked the cork out of the bottle and Vanessa was clapping her hands in excitement, a brilliant white moonbeam painted across her face. Brooke remembered the day well. Monet had taken the photo with Nina beside her, both of them still in their work clothes after they’d visited straight from a hard day full of teaching. Akeria, Silky, Plastique, Scarlet and Yvie had all been inside, shuffling through the huge variety of Domino’s pizza boxes that had just arrived at their door like a deck of cards. That night had been so special. Whatever had happened since then, Brooke would probably treasure that memory forever.

In spite of herself she smiled as she looked at the photograph, then turned her attention to her phone screen.

No notifications. She didn’t know why she expected anything more.

With a cloud over her head that matched the ones in the uncharacteristically grey June sky, Brooke brushed her teeth and peeled her pyjamas off before stepping into the shower and adjusting the dial to somewhere between tepid and warm. Vanessa’s shower gel sat in the corner, the tropical fruit and mint one with little tiny sloths all over the front. Brooke found herself hurting as she looked at it, still loath to use it as she took her own from the opposite side and splatted a huge dollop into her shower puff. Sometimes she used it indulgently, like a secret she shared with herself. She didn’t know whether she’d buy more when it ran out. That was something she still needed to think about.

Once she was clean Brooke briskly dried herself with a towel, sitting on the edge of the bed wrapped in it as she carefully blow-dried out her hair. She picked out her outfit: smart black work trousers with a fabric belt that pulled her in at the waist, a black and white patterned shirt, black stiletto heels. As she painted some minimal makeup on her face in the hope it would make her look less like a sleep-deprived zombie and more like she had her life together in some way, Brooke checked the clock and cursed as she realised she was running behind.

Leaving lipstick for the moment, she grabbed her bag, shoved her feet in a pair of black pumps, and left hurriedly for the train. Breakfast wasn’t a priority; she knew she could grab an iced coffee and a croissant from the cafe in the station in between changing trains, as it took her two to get into work. It was times such as these that she wished she knew how to drive like Monet, Plastique and Akeria, or had learned since uni like Nina or Scarlet. But then again, cafe food for breakfast was one of the very few perks of public transport.

Brooke eventually arrived at the huge concrete block with windows that held her offices, taking the elevator up to the fifth floor, clocking in, shooting a lacklustre “hi” to the girls she sometimes chatted to and settling herself in at her desk. As office positions went, Brooke supposed it wasn’t awful- it was beside the window looking out onto the streets of the city below and it provided some much-needed light to her day. Logging on to her work laptop, she checked her emails (one from her boss about the article due for Friday, and one from Cheryl about money for flowers for somebody going on maternity leave that she’d never met or heard of and might not even have worked there).

Her working day had started.

University hadn’t prepared Brooke for graduate life. It hadn’t prepared her for the fact that friends moved away for jobs and houses and flats, internships and apprenticeships and postgrads and masters. It hadn’t prepared her for the fact that her group chat, once flooded with about a hundred messages if she so much as left it for five minutes, gathered dust as everyone’s lives took over. It hadn’t prepared Brooke for the feeling of missing out on something…Christ knows what. Perhaps living, making memories instead of simply swiping through ones already made on a Saturday night spent alone in bed with a bottle of wine to herself. It hadn’t prepared her for the yearning, the regret at having taken those days for granted when they were the happiest of her life and she hadn’t even realised it. If Brooke had known how soul-crushingly boring her life would be once she got that rolled-up piece of paper in a little tube she would’ve been dragging the girls out every single night. The all-encompassing sadness and longing for something better hit her harder on days like these, sepia ones with big clouds that hung ominously in the sky but never gave her the satisfaction of raining. She supposed that feeling had only been exacerbated by…

She didn’t need to remind herself of that.

It was ten o’clock in the morning and Brooke was staring out of the small office window stupefied with boredom when her phone vibrated. She jumped, pouncing on it as she always did whenever a notification went off. Her phone hadn’t been on silent for a full month. It hadn’t been the person she’d wanted or expected, but it was a pleasant surprise nonetheless.

Silk: HEY GIRL LONG TIME NO SPEAK! I’M GONNA BE IN TOWN THIS AFTERNOON FOR AN INTERVIEW BUT I’LL BE FREE AFTER AND I’VE GOT A COUPLE HOURS TO KICK ABOUT UNTIL MY TRAIN. YOU WANNA GRAB DINNER? XXXXXXXXX

Brooke frantically made plans as if she was under a time limit, as if the moment would slip through her fingers like sand in an hourglass. She suggested some restaurants that she knew wouldn’t eat into either of their fragile graduate salaries and they settled on an Italian in the city centre, where the portions were big and the meals were tasty.

Brooke spent the rest of the day looking forward to meeting her friend. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen Silky. Maybe it had been as long ago as New Year. Brooke smiled as she remembered the occasion; all of them cramming into Scarlet and Yvie’s flat to see in the year. Silky and Akeria had got too drunk off prosecco and screamed along to JLS, Scarlet and Yvie had both made a buffet to rival a hotel’s, and Nina, Monet, Vanessa and Brooke had all been tangled up in an almost relationship-ruining game of Articulate. Plastique had brought her new girlfriend Naomi to introduce to everyone and the girl had looked ever so slightly alarmed by the sheer chaos of everyone put together, but she’d laughed and joined in all the same.

That had been another happy memory. Those seemed to be hard to come by these days.

Work dragged. It always did. Brooke managed to write three sub-par articles that she sent to her editor at the end of the day anyway because hell, it was their job to turn carbon into diamonds. So when she hopped on the train back into the city, Brooke felt a little buzz in her veins that she hadn’t felt in a while.

It took her until she saw Silky standing outside the restaurant- hair in a bun full of flyaways, eyebrows still Sharpied on, in a pair of smart trousers and a floaty top- that Brooke realised that part of the reason she was so excited was because she’d been so lonely for such a long time. Well, only really a month, but it felt like a year. It had taken her living on her own to realise just how boring her life was without all her friends so constantly part of it, and now they all had their own lives and schedules it only served to show Brooke how empty her own was without…

Well. Without her.

As soon as Silky looked up from her phone and spotted Brooke her face lit up, and she fixed her with a smile and a screech that Brooke never thought she would have missed hearing but by God, she had.

“BROOKE LYNN!” she screamed, followed by lots of squealing and babbling as she wrapped the taller girl in a tight hug and refused to let go for at least twenty seconds. Brooke didn’t mind and she found herself clinging back, Silky suddenly the loudest anchor she’d never known she needed. When Silky finally pulled away she grabbed Brooke by both wrists, shaking her back and forth a little. “Oh my God, BITCH! Oh my God. FUCK! It’s so good to see you. How the fuck are you?”

Brooke appreciated that- Silky asking how she was. Yvie tiptoed around Brooke’s feelings when they texted and Brooke tiptoed around her and Scarlet’s perfect domestic bliss, both of the subjects too touchy for Brooke and the pair of them instead choosing to communicate via meme. Nina barely had time to breathe these days let alone text back, and Plastique…well, Plastique wouldn’t get it.

None of them would, she supposed.

“I’m…I’m surviving! I’m being an adult, I guess, and this is what life is now. How’re you?” Brooke swiftly moved the conversation on, and Silky took the hint and dropped both her wrists, pushing open the door.

“I’m on cloud fuckin’ nine girl. C’mon, let’s get some vino an’ I’ll catch you up on the world of Ms. Ganache! Think of it as a free episode of the reality TV show that is my life.”

“Let’s be real, Silk. If anyone’s life’s like a reality TV show right now, it’s mine,” Brooke raised her eyebrows, not quite committing to her own attempt at being lighthearted and instead couldn’t have sounded more bitter if she’d eaten an entire lemon with its rind on.

Silky, for her part, shrugged and let out a small sigh. “You ain’t wrong, girl, you ain’t wrong. But the offer of wine still stands, so let’s get sat. Where the damn hell is a waiter?”

They eventually got shown to their table and the conversation flowed frantically and excitedly, mirroring the wine. Silky filled Brooke in on every last detail of her life- most importantly, Brooke thought, was that Silky’s parents who she was back living with had adopted a cocker spaniel puppy called Pooch. Graduate life had been tough on Silky; she still hadn’t managed to get a job and so therefore couldn’t afford to rent a flat, so she’d moved back to her sleepy and uninspiring hometown. Living with her parents, she’d groaned, was beginning to chip away at her; the constant pressure they put on Silky to find a job, move out, get a boyfriend, and lose weight was beginning to grow wearing in the extreme, and Brooke didn’t blame her for being fed up.

“You know you’re always welcome to come chill at mine, you know. If it’s getting particularly rough,” Brooke suggested not-quite-casually, glad of the fact that loneliness didn’t have a scent because if it did she’d be reeking of it.

Silky gave a bashful smile, looking down at her half-eaten plate of spaghetti bolognaise in front of her. “You’re a doll, B, but you know I can’t do an hour on the train any time my Mama tuts at me buying a size XL of anything. In fact therapy’s probably cheaper than a train ticket here but realistically I don’t got the money for either, so…thanks, but in the words of Simon Cowell, issa no from me.”

“That’s okay. I get it, Mums are simultaneously the worst and the best people,” Brooke pulled a face. Thinking about her Mum made her wonder when the last time she texted her was. She felt a little ashamed for not knowing off the top of her head. “But hey, at least you got that interview, right? How did it go?”

“Alright,” Silky muttered in a non-committal way. It was the most un-Silky response Brooke thought she’d ever seen her friend give. It was weird and unpleasant; the Silky from uni would’ve yelled the place down about how she’d aced it, how they’d make her the chief editor right there and then, how she could write an article for them entirely in Wingdings and it’d still be the best thing they’d read all day.

Seemingly picking up on Brooke’s discomfort, Silky gave a small laugh. “I don’ know, boo…I used to be so sure of myself, I used to be so set in the fact that writing was somethin’ I was good at. When I was a kid I used to write these fuckin’ huge stories…pages an’ pages long that my teachers would pull big overexaggerated smiley faces at an’ squeal over an’ put big glittery star stickers on. I thought I was somethin’ special. An’ then uni, y’know…I was a small fish in a big pond- hell, a big fish in a big pond- but I still thought I was the shit even when I got bad grades. I thought my markers just didn’t get it, that they were the ones that were wrong. But now it’s like…”

Silky heaved a sigh and put her fork and spoon together neatly on top of her half-full plate. “…I can’t even get a job at a fuckin’ local rag, so why the hell am I even tryin’ with the big city offices?”

There was something about it all that made Brooke’s heart break all over again, the way that life after uni had worn Silky down to the extent where she didn’t even know if she was good at anything any more, didn’t have much visible self-worth left. Silky had always been the heart and soul of their group; she, Akeria and Vanessa, and in the time it had taken between now and graduation Akeria had become the polar opposite of Silky- so completely embroiled in her quest to become a barrister that she barely had time to reply to any of them any more.

And Vanessa…well. She knew where Vanessa was. Or rather, she didn’t.

Greece was a big country.

“You’re trying because you’re Big Silky Nutmeg Motherfucking Ganache,” Brooke said with a determination she’d not felt in a while. “Come on Silk, you’re you. If grad life has broken you then what the fuck hope is there for any of us?”

( Any of us sounded better than me , Brooke thought.)

“Kiki’s doin’ okay for herself,” Silky shrugged, her downtrodden tone counteracted by the way she picked up her fork again and twirled a single strand of spaghetti around it, eating it once she was finished speaking.

“Kiki’s vagina-deep in a hellish and all-consuming masters degree that’s probably eating her up from the inside out just as much as everybody else’s jobs are. I mean, are any of us doing anything we actually like?”

“Nina an’ Monet? They’da quit by now if they hated teaching so much.”

“Nina West would join the fucking scientologists and stick it out just so she could say she didn’t give up. She’s the final boss of the term mama didn’t raise a quitter . They’re having a hard time, Silk. We all are. It’s just tough because we’re all so busy and shit at keeping in touch that everybody thinks each others’ lives are perfect but…they’re really not.”

“Yvie and Scarlet seem pretty happy.”

Brooke’s face took on an involuntary look of distaste, so irritated and bitter was she at the image of them and their perfect flat and their perfect jobs and their perfect coupley life. “They’ll have something up, nobody’s life is that perfect. Maybe their relationship’s secretly falling apart or…something, fuck, I don’t know.”

There was a beat of silence in which Brooke finished the last little pocket of tortellini she’d ordered and Silky twirled another mouthful of spaghetti around her fork. She chewed, then shrugged thoughtfully, her head tilting a little. “Y’know we should go on holiday. Fuck all this shit off for a week, get away from it all.”

Brooke’s eyebrows raised in appreciation of the idea. She and the girls had never been away together before and the prospect of lying on a beach doing absolutely nothing under the blazing sun was an inviting one. “What, a girls’ trip? Like in Sex and The City?”

“Mhm. ‘Cept we go on an all-inclusive to the Med ‘stead of Mexico ‘cause ain’t none of us can afford that shit.”

“Except Plastique.”

“True. Fuck that bitch. She could prolly buy Mexico.”

Brooke laughed and for the first time in a good few months she felt a little flicker of excitement lick at her heart, so much so that she could see her pulse race at her wrist. She couldn’t stop the smile that spread across her face. “Oh my God. I’m so in. Let’s do it.”

“We have to get all the girls on board, though. Otherwise there ain’t no point.”

“Definitely. Where should we go? Spain’s always good.”

Silky had her phone out and was typing furiously. She paused as something presumably loaded, then her face lit up. “If we go the week after Nina an’ Monet finish up school for Summer we can get flights to Crete for £20 return.”

“Twenty, what the fuck? That can’t be right,” Brooke screwed up her face in disbelief, and Silky cocked an eyebrow at her as she showed her the proof on her screen. Conceding, Brooke shrugged. “That’s so good. I don’t want to know what that plane’s like though. They probably just stuff you all into a tin can and ping you into the air with a giant rubber band.”

Silky howled with laughter and thumped the table so hard that the wine sloshed about in their glasses, little tiny red tsunamis. As Brooke snorted in response purely to Silky’s own mirth, a small thought set off a little drip of dread that threatened to put out the excitement that had only just begun to burn in her chest.

“Where is Crete again?”

Silky let out an unimpressed breath from her nose. “Bitch, you got all the geography skills of a Love Island contestant. It’s just off the Greek coast. Kinda near Turkey too, but it’s Greece.”

Brooke felt her heart drop, Alton Towers Oblivion all over again. She blinked quickly, tried to hide her discomfort. “Well, we’re not going there.”

Silky gave a small sigh, a little hint of resignation or long-suffering to it that Brooke didn’t appreciate. But when she reached over the table and patted her hand on top of Brooke’s, she felt a little bit more understood, a little bit more validated.

“B, Greece is a big place.”

It was the exact same thing Brooke herself had thought earlier, except now it didn’t seem true. Now, with the prospect of going there, it seemed like the tiniest microcosm of society. The world was simultaneously too big and too small, and Brooke felt the cold drip in her heart get worse. “Silky…”

“Look. We ain’t exactly gonna pick the same place she’s at, are we?”

Brooke put her head in her hands and sighed. “She’s not there anymore.”

“What?”

“I phoned the hotel a week ago to try and speak to her. I was going to fly out, try and talk to her and fix things. They said she didn’t work there anymore. So I don’t even know where she is at all.”

Silky huffed, frowning and concerned. “I’m sorry, Brooke, this shit must’ve been hell.”

“You’ve got no idea.”

There was a pause as Silky pushed her food around her plate. “Crete’s small, but it ain’t that small. We still got a one in a million chance of bumpin’ into her if we go.”

“That’s still too small for my liking. Both the island and the chances.”

“Aight, one in a billion. Trillion. Point is, it ain’t gonna happen. An’ besides…” Silky waggled her eyebrows, flashing her phone screen at Brooke again. “Twenty pounds for the first week of the school holidays. This shit’s like gold dust.”

Brooke smiled slowly in spite of herself. Maybe Silky was right. And maybe it would be fun to swan around Greece, eat seafood and pretend to be in some knockoff version of Mamma Mia. Scratch that, it would be fun. She’d get to spend a week surrounded by her friends in the sun, which was what she badly needed at the moment.

Brooke was nodding before she knew it. “Okay, fine. Crete it is.”

“YES, bitch!” Silky cheered, loud enough to be heard by the entire restaurant and possibly the chefs in the kitchen too. “Now let’s get dessert. All this wine needs soaked up by a big slice of sticky toffee puddin’.”

It was easy to feel optimistic with Silky back being her loud and just-the-right-side-of-obnoxious self, and with a plate of tiramisu in front of her. But after they’d finished up, paid their bill and she’d hugged Silky goodbye at the train station, Brooke found the endorphins wearing off as she got back to her dark flat and into her cold bed. Maybe it was because she was finally coming down from the high of meeting up with a beloved friend, maybe it was because she knew she had another monotonous, greyscale day of work to get through tomorrow.

Or perhaps, Brooke thought as she turned over in bed, caught sight of the familiar rose-gold frame and blew it a kiss, she was simply missing her girlfriend.

If she could even call Vanessa that any more.

#rpdr fanfiction #s11 #modern love #ortega #n19f #branjie #background scyvie #background ninex #lesbian au #angst #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #silky nutmeg ganache

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seasami · 4 years

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Larry Fic Rec -- June/July

hii!! so I’ve got some fics that I read in June and July (until now). If you see a ✰ next to a title it means I really liked it and it’s one of my favs from the ones I listed. If there’s a 🔒 next to title it means you have to be logged in to read.

[Click on the title for link]

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Latitude by nikogda (44k)

Summary: Harry’s a hybrid on a boat about to be hit by a storm and Louis is the human who comes to his rescue. That storm is all the time they have to fall in love before going their separate ways. That is, until almost a year later…

Ever Since I Tried Your Way by Anonymous ✰ (25k)

Summary: Harry had been kissed before, but never like this.He’d shared sweet, curious kisses behind bleachers and in soda shop booths, one or two more daring ones in cars parked on dark suburban streets, but the girls he’d kissed had never filled him with the desperation that erupted from Louis’ touch. He parted his lips and pulled him closer, as though he could breathe Louis straight into his lungs, as if he could swallow him. He wanted to consume Louis the way he consumed the body and blood of Christ. He wanted to place Louis on his tongue and feel him dissolve into a frothy mess of starch and saliva. He wanted to gulp him down until his teeth were stained purple and he was drunk on him. He wanted him in some violent holy way that made his hands shake where they were twisted in Louis’ shirt.

In 1949 Harry left his bride at the altar, running away from the only life he'd known. When a kindhearted farmer offers him a ride in his truck and a place to sleep the two find themselves inexplicably drawn together. Isolated on Louis' farm with nobody but a field of dairy cows to intrude, the men are finally able to explore the parts of themselves they've spent their lives hiding away.

No Candle No Light (No Friendzone To My Love) by Anonymous (11k)

Summary: Louis glanced at his friend, glaring daggers and Niall chuckled. He looked like his idea could end world hunger and Louis was horrified. [...]“Come on, Niall! Tell me!” Harry insisted, excited.“You can threaten him other than with violence. You said you want a little revenge, right? What if an ex-boyfriend came to reconquer you? You know, the jealous and aggressive kind.”Harry sighed loudly, closing his eyes. Louis frowned, just like Liam and Zayn. What was he talking about? And why was he still looking at Louis that way?“Niall, this could’ve been a nice idea if I had an ex-boyfriend, but-”“Let me explain!” Niall barged in. “ You don’t have an ex-boyfriend but you can pretend you have one! I’m sure Louis would love to help you with that.”Liam almost choked on his wine and Zayn bit so hard on his lip to contain his laughter that it might have bled. Niall looked satisfied as hell, of course he was the little shit, and Louis just had time to flip him the finger before Harry turned to him. He was fucking delighted.

Or the one where helping Harry getting rid of his boyfriend may be the only way to his heart

Sugar by lettersfromvenus (15k) ✰

Summary:

“I hope our paths will ‘croissant’ again.”

There’s a little smiley face drawn next to the words, and it’s ridiculous, Louis knows, but he can’t help the swell of butterflies that he feels as he reads over the words once more. An odd fellow indeed, he thinks.A moment later he shakes his head and collects himself, because he really does need to get home; he’s sure that Harry is probably watching him from behind the counter, all sweet, smug smiles and pink cheeks. And if he’s being honest, he’s not entirely sure he won’t toss his groceries into the trash and walk straight back into the bakery if he doesn’t leave now, so… he really does need to get going.

Before he goes on his way, though, he plucks the note from the top of the container and carefully tucks it inside of his wallet to protect it from the rain.

That’s how it begins.

Only Been Here One Time by alienharry (10k)

Summary:

“Good morning, Liam. Harry.” Louis nods at them both and then cocks his head. “Are you aware you have four nipples, Harry?”

Harry looks down at his chest, suddenly worried. He doesn’t know how many nipples humans have, but four must not be a usual amount. “Should I have six?”

“Not unless you’ve a litter of kittens to feed.”

Soft Hands, Fast Feet, Can’t Lose by dolce_piccante (112k) ✰

I KNOW ITS ICONIC BUT I READ IT A MONTH AGO SO I THOUGHT I’D INCLUDE IT HERE.

Summary: American Uni AU. Harry Styles is a frat boy football star from the wealthy Styles Family athletic dynasty. A celebrity among football fans, he knows how to play, he knows how to party, and he knows how to fuck (all of which is well known among his legion of admirers).

Louis Tomlinson is a student and an athlete, but his similarities to Harry end there. Intelligent, focused, independent, and completely uninterested in Harry’s charms, Louis is an anomaly in a world ruled by football.

A bet about the pair, who might be more similar than they originally thought, brings them together. Shakespeare, ballet, Disney, football, library chats, running, accidental spooning, Daredevil and Domino’s Pizza all blend into one big friendship Frappucino, but who will win in the end?

It’s All Brand New by midnightwhistleberries (10k)

Summary: “Harry,” Louis intones emphatically, “literally everyone in the U.K. has known that I’m openly bisexual since 2011.”

“’Cept you, I guess,” supplies Niall.

In which Harry studies engineering, loves Madonna, and can't tell if Louis likes him or just keeps coming back to the record store because he's some sort of musical hoarder. Louis is famous, Harry has no idea, communication issues are rampant and fluffy pining ensues.

Fool For You by flowercrownfemme, lesbianferrissbueller (46k) ✰

Summary: “It’s not a game.” Harry scoffed, trying to push past him once more but Louis held his ground. “And I’ve never once told you a lie.” “All you do is lie," Harry argued. "Jests and tricks and made up stories, that’s your trade. I’d never trust a word from your mouth.” “I tell stories,” Louis conceded, “but a good one must be based on truth. And my stories tend to get a bit more truthful when I’m around you, Princess.”

In which Harry is a brooding prince who's scarcely smiled since the death of his mother and Louis is the dashing jester hired to change that.

streetwise hercules by bottomlinsons (7k) 🔒

Summary: I said,” Louis’ voice is venomous, “who the fuck is this?”Right. This is Harry’s part.

(Uni AU, where Louis pretends to be Harry's boyfriend to scare away his one night stands.)

Close Enough To Touch by stinky28 (7k)

Summary: “You are killing it!” The stranger shouts in his ear, to which Louis raises a brow, setting up the next transition and song, bobbing a bit in place before glancing over to the stranger and Oh. Red.

He’s staring right at a very large, oddly tied red bow tie. It takes up the whole stranger’s chest and..it’s bloody brilliant. He fucking loves it. He feels himself break into a giant grin, looking up at Mr. Red Bowtie’s face and Oh. Fuck.

OR an au where louis is the dj for the met gala after party and harry can’t leave his side.

Hate Me To The Moon by harrystylesandstuff (83k)

Summary: The last thing Harry wanted was to spend his entire summer stuck with his dad's new fiancée and her kids. He wants no more when he learns she's a very religious dictator, raising a sixteen year old nun and a clean cut potential priest ass kisser.

Everything takes a slightly different turn, however, when Harry finds out his future step-brother is actually the rude stranger he caught sucking off a guy in a pub, far from the reserved Christian his mom thinks he is...

AU where Harry is a sexy nerd, Louis is a great actor, and they both pretend to hate each other's guts to convince themselves they're not feeling things future step-brothers shouldn't feel...

hush. by Wankerville (41k)

Summary: “I don't like you like that, Harry.”

“See,” Harry starts, Louis can hear the smile in his voice, “that's where I think you're lying.”

or an au where small towns suck, louis is losing it, and harry’s just too perfect.

The Unsuccessful Promise by trysomecats (11k)

Summary: At the end of the previous school year, Louis swore to everyone that he would return in the fall as an alpha. He made this promise especially to his arch-nemesis Harry Styles, who has already presented as an alpha himself. Unfortunately over summer break, the worst thing possible happens: Louis presents as an omega. Now school is back in session and he has to return and face the consequences of pre-determining his status.

Featuring Liam and Zayn as Louis' doting and exasperated parents.

Autumn At My Window by TheCellarDoor (20k)

Summary: A canon-compliant AU, in which Harry and Louis are both in the band and have been sharing flats and hotel rooms for nearly five years, but never made the leap past 'friends who are too close for comfort'.

Featuring a lot of pining, Louis' addiction to Harry's scent, and a whole lot of sexual tension that might just snap loose when they decide to spend some time together all on their own.

OKAY! That’s it for now cause I don’t want this post to be too long (oof i’ve read a lot actually). I have Fic Rec June/July Part Two in drafts and im also gonna collect fics that I’ve read on my kindle (its usually above 50k and make a fic rec with them). Stay tuned and follow my blog so you don’t miss it idk <33.

PLEASE GIVE ME YOUR FEEDBACK ON THIS: I can make: Iconic Fics, My Fav Fics or try and do some themed fic rec. LET ME KNOW IF YOU’D WANT THAT!

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sxfterhearts · 4 years

Text

28. [1:31 am]

➳ pairing: youngjae x reader

➳ genre/warnings: angst, idol!reader, non-idol!youngjae

➳ word count: 1,378 words

➳ summary: 28. “Drive safely,”

➳ author's note: thank you to lyss, @strxwberri-milk for recommending the song that inspired this timestamp! also, this is the first week of proper uni classes so i’m getting a bit busier, sorry for the absence! hope you’ll enjoy my 1st proper angst timestamp 💕

➳ music: call button by ars (youngjae) & j.praize, 1:31am by jaebeom & youngjae

He clutched his phone tightly within his clammy hands, utterly nervous. Youngjae stared at the device blankly, or more specifically at his call log. He stared. He stared and stared and stared. The clock hanging on his wall mocked him with its incessant ticking, and still, he stared.

He stared at the most recent phone number on his call log, a string of numerals he committed to memory two years ago. Youngjae stared and he wondered how a number that used to bring him so much joy and excitement was currently the root cause of his sorrows.

If it wasn't for the box full of your belongings sitting idly by his feet, would you have called?

He couldn't deny the tiny glimmer of hope that sparked within his chest when his phone screen lit up and displayed your number earlier that night.

Were you finally ready to come back home to him? Were you getting tired of sleeping and waking up without a good morning or good night call? Were you constantly thinking of him too? Did you see his face every single time you close your eyes?

Because Youngjae was. He did. He was sick and tired of this so-called break in your relationship that you suggested a month ago. He had enough of the gigantic, gaping hole in his heart caused by your absence. He was alone, and he was over it.

When he closed his eyes and focussed hard enough, Youngjae could still picture the memories you shared. The classes he spent passing you little notes back and forth instead of learning about the history of musical composition. The afternoons spent lounging on the rooftop of Korea Arts High School, sharing a pair of earphones while humming softly. The nights spent sneaking you out of your trainee dorms for a cheat meal - a supper of tteokbokki with extra fishcakes, extra cheese and a container of mozzarella cheese balls. The secret messages and phone calls you made on your hidden phone as you hid under the covers of your bunk bed in the wee hours of the morning. Even the stolen, longing, loving glances you would exchange when he came to watch your performances. He could relive nearly every single moment.

But he also remembered the jealousy burning his insides when he watched your music show co-host act all lovey-dovey with you. He recollected the arguments about your close relationships with other male idols and trainees, stemming from his deep-rooted insecurities. He recalled the tears of betrayal and frustration streaming down his face when you finally said you needed a break from your relationship, simply because it was too much for you to handle. He could still feel how your harsh words stung and punched and stabbed his heart. It still hurt beyond belief.

A series of light knocks announced your awaited arrival. Youngjae laughed to himself, humourless and emotionless and cold. You knew the passcode to his apartment. There was a time when he was sure you memorised it, just like how he memorised your phone number. You used to punch the numbers in with glee and burst through the door, greeting him with a big hug.

Tonight was different. Youngjae trudged towards the front door, the box he carried in his arms dragging him down like a ton of bricks. A part of him didn't want to open the door. That way, he could continue living in this stagnant middle ground where your relationship neither ended or continued. At least that way he could grant himself the privilege of hope.

He opened the door to reveal a completely worn-out version of your usual bubbly self. You were sporting an oversized shirt and sweatpants, an outfit that used to consist of his own clothing. Your recently bleached hair, an eye-catching shade of platinum blonde, was thrown up into a lazy bun. Your stage makeup from the earlier music show recording hadn't been wiped off. Youngjae was reminded of how he used to wipe your makeup off when you were so fatigued from your performances. He missed doing these things for you. He missed his boyfriend duties. He missed the secret, low profile dates. He missed being close to you. He missed you.

"Youngjae, hey." You greeted so nonchalantly that a part of him broke. You weren't hurting like he did. "Sorry for coming at such a late hour, I just got off from the recording studio. I managed to borrow my manager's car and came here as soon as I was done. Is that all of it?" You asked, pointing at the cardboard box in his hands.

"Yeah, yes. Hey, Y/N. Um, do you need help with this? I could like, take it down to the car for you. It's a bit heavy."

You shook your head quickly, not wanting to prolong this conversation. "No, it's fine. I can take it. Here, pass it over." You reached out towards him, grabbing the box with ease.

Youngjae parted his lips to talk and you waited. To both of your dismay, no words came out of his mouth. For nearly ten seconds, the two of you stared at each other silently.

"Listen," you started, unable to bear the suffocating silence any longer.

"Actually, I meant to ask, how have you been? Are you doing well?" Youngjae forced the words out of his mouth. He regretted it the moment he saw your eyes avert his piercing, pleasing gaze.

"I'm alright, same old. Work's busier than ever." You paused, searching for the right words to let him down in the most painless way possible.

He didn't know this, but you had felt disconnected from him for a long time now. It wasn't just because of your busy schedules. This job as an idol was demanding. Having been exposed to the cutthroat industry, both of you knew that very well. However, it wasn't the lack of quality time together that you couldn't deal with. It was Youngjae's possessiveness over you and his irrational jealousy of any male who came within thirty centimeters of you that drove you to the brink of insanity. You felt so restricted.

"Have you been eating enough? Your arms are thinner, it looks like you've lost weight." He began to ramble in a hurry, afraid that you would leave at any moment. "Maybe you should take more vitamins, you seem really tired and pale. You have to stay healthy. Don't get sick, okay? I know-"

"Youngjae," you cut him off. "I'm sorry, I'm really sorry but I don't think I can continue with this; with us. This relationship has taken a huge toll on me and I'm sorry but it's best if we break up."

Those were the words. The dreaded words. Youngjae wanted to cover his hands over his ears so that he could drown out whatever you were saying. He didn't want to hear it at all. The two of you were going strong just a while ago, what happened? Everything changed so quickly. Or was there a gradual buildup? Did he miss the signs? Was he so blinded by his love for you that he completely missed the warning signs?

"Say something, Youngjae." You urged as the man in front of you fell into an internal conflict.

He snapped out of it at the sound of your voice. He hated to admit it but it was his favourite sound in the world. It could pull him out of the deepest, darkest depths. Ironically, it was now throwing him further into a bottomless pit. "Break up? Yeah. Yeah, okay." Youngjae forced himself to inhale a shaky breath. "Just, yeah. I hope you'll stay well."

"You too, Youngjae. There's someone out there who's better for you than me. I hope you find your happiness."

Inside, he refused to believe this to be true. You were his happiness. But he didn't say anything about that. Instead, he reminded you, "Keep doing what you love, and keep smiling. You know I'll always be here if you need me."

You nodded, unable to form a more appropriate response.

Youngjae's vision began to blur. He knew he had to go before the waterworks started pouring uncontrollably. "Goodbye, Y/N. Drive safely."

He was still in love with you.

#kwritersworldnet #youngjae angst #got7 angst #youngjae fanfic #got7 fanfic #youngjae drabble #got7 drabbles #youngjae imagines #got7 imagines #youngjae scenarios #got7 scenarios #youngjae timestamp #got7 timestamps #youngjae sad #youngjae #choi youngjae #got7 youngjae #sad hours open #this is sad sorry

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moon-yeongjun · 3 years

Text

The Gay Cousin Pt. 1 || Moon Bros

Summary: Jun and Tae’s cousins from Canada zoom in... and reveal a pretty shocking secret!

TW: anxiety, thoughts/mentions of homophobia (no actual homophobia expressed)

@moon-yeongtae

JUN: A couple of times a year, the Moon family skyped the other Moon family. It happened only on your standard occasions: Chuseok and Christmas. Much more common were phone calls to Eomma’s extended family still living in Korea-- her cousins and aunts and uncles, most of whom Jun had never met.

But the other Moons-- his father’s younger brother’s family who had immigrated as well, but to Canada, not England. Well, they were like Santa Claus. Or a unicorn. Popped up, said hi, sent cards but only over email. In fact, there were times they could not work out the time difference between Toronto and Swynlake and so they missed the Skype call.

But not these days. Oh no, these days, ever since Abeoji died, Eomma was making a real effort to keep in touch with Nam-seok and his two sons. Whether it was out of guilt or maybe her way of feeling closer to her late husband, Jun didn’t know.

He also didn’t argue though when she told all the Moons that it was Jacob’s birthday in a few days and they were going to Skype him from his new apartment.

“After church, this Sunday, so no plans!” Eomma said fiercely to all of them, waving a knife in the air. She glared more fiercely at Star, who was truly going through the rebellious-teen-phase on behalf of both goody-two-shoes Sky and eager-to-please Sunny, and was texting at the table.

“But Eomma, I was going to go over to Janet’s--”

“No. Jacob emailed me, eh? We’re doing it. No excuse.”

And so now it was Sunday, at 2:26 p.m., which was 9:26 a.m. in Toronto, which seemed pretty early for a 25-year-old (and shouldn’t he be going to church too? Jun was not going to point this out to Eomma, for Jacob’s sake). They gathered around Jun’s laptop as he logged onto Zoom, which was much better than Skype, he told Eomma.

“Agh, your butt is too big, Star!” yelped Sunny behind. Sunny and Star were fighting for Jun’s nice desk chair, trying to shove each other off with their hips.

“I called it!”

“Aish, girls!” Eomma snapped. “Sky, put the book down.”

“We’re not even on yet?” Sky huffed, not lowering her book.

Jun rolled his eyes and glanced at Tae. Who knew that Tae would be the best behaved of his siblings? Not him. Though, his brother was almost 18 now, so maybe his bad attitude really was just a symptom of those early teens, like the girls now.

Just then, his screen began to ring. “Yah, he’s calling!” Jun announced.

Eomma ripped the book from Sky’s hands. “Okay everyone, be nice or I’ll kill you!”

The next moment, his cousin appeared: Jacob with his big grin, which immediately reminded Jun of Tae. But that was about the only resemblance. Jacob was blond now! Aish! A second after, his other cousin leaned in onto the screen: Kevin, with his hipster glasses, wearing a beanie even though it was spring there, unruly hair poking out. Too long, thought Jun. What was with kids these days and growing their hair so long? “Yooooooo, Moon fam, hi!” Kevin said.

“Gomo, hello hello!” sweet Jacob said, waving both his hands. “How’s everyone doing?”

TAE:

When Tae was younger, he used to wish he belonged to the other part of the Moon family. It wasn't because he hated his life or anything even though he sort of did sometimes (at least back then), it was because they just seemed so much cooler! Like right now his cousins were smiling so big and Jacob had dyed his hair blonde! Tae had a feeling that if he tried to dye his hair blonde his eomma would try to slap some sense into him with a kitchen spoon! Ha!

"We're great," Tae said, leaning closer to the screen and blocking his sisters' view of the screen and smiling big in return. They didn't need to see anyway.

Predictably, though, the second he was fully in the way he felt shoving at his back.

"Oppa you're in the way! We can't see!"

"You don't need to see anyway," he said and laughed when Star yanked him backward by the shirt. "I like your hair! How long did it take to turn it blond?"

"Like, a long time," Jacob said with a laugh. "It looks good though so it was worth it."

"Maybe I'll do it next," Tae said and smiled really big. "Eomma will help me, right, Eomma?"

JUN:

Aish, was Tae trying to pick a fight? He took back what he was thinking about one minute earlier: Tae had not grown out of his annoying teenager phase at all. He was still in it, a troublemaker to the end. Because he knew! Oh he knew, he heard the fights between Star and Eomma as Star pushed and pushed. It had taken her almost a full six months to convince Eomma to let her and Sunny dye bleach their hair in the first place. And she’d not even asked about the blue colour, just showed up, tossing those locks and letting Eomma lose her mind.

Remember what Eomma had just said too? Behave. Picking a fight in front of their cousins was not behaving.

“I think Star has more experience with that,” said Jun swiftly, so Eomma did not have to answer. Eomma nodded, not adding anything else, which Jun knew was because she did not like the idea of Tae-- any of her children-- dying their hair at all.

“Yes! Girl, I saw your Insta pics, that blue was so cute!” Jacob said.

“Fire!” Kevin added, putting his hand to his mouth like a megaphone.

Star preened. “Thanks! It was super hard to manage though and like, washed out to this ugly green colour.”

“Right, yeah, I get that,” said Jacob. “So what’s everyone doing?”

“No, you tell us about you, you are both so busy,” Eomma interrupted with a smile. “I see Jacob’s graduation pictures?”

“Right, yes! I finished my Masters in Music Ed,” said Jacob. “Kevin’s still working on his degree, he’ll be done in like no time though. And then I just moved here! Ahh, first place of my own! Well, not like on my own, on my own, but you know--”

Eomma clapped her hands lightly. “That’s so wonderful! So responsible. You have a job?”

“Um, yes, but not actually teaching music yet!” Jacob laughed. “I’m just like, working in a restaurant right now.”

“Music is a very hard degree to find a job for,” said Jun. Then flinched as he felt Eomma pinch him. He shot her a confused look. What! It was! Who could get a degree in music education and expect to make real money?!

“Haha, yeah it is but like, I just graduated so I mean, I’ll be interviewing for stuff for next school year.” Jacob went on like he didn’t notice. “But so wait, no, everyone tell me what’s up! Tae, aren’t you going to uni soon?”

TAE:

Tae's smile fell for a moment before he could control himself but he quickly recovered, pasting it back in place. The thing was, theoretically? Yes, Tae was supposed to be going to uni soon. Actually, he was supposed to be going to uni next year if everything had gone the way it was supposed to, but he was a giant failure of a human being and had to repeat an entire year.

He didn't really want to get into all of that, obviously, so he just kind of smiled and nodded. "I still have one more year before I have to get into that, but yeah, I can already tell that year is going to go by fast."

There, that was much easier than talking about how he felt like an utter failure and like he was too stupid to ever get into any uni, right? Perfect!

"Jun-hyung is really doing great with the store, too! We actually have employees now and he's even dating one of them."

He looked over to his hyung with s little wince, hopeful that Jun would take pity on him and not kill him later.

I'm sorry, he tried to communicate with his eyes. I just can't talk about uni.

JUN:

Now this wasn't fair. Why should Jun have to suffer because Tae was irresponsible and lazy and didn't study enough or own up to his choices???!

Okay, maybe that was putting it all a little harshly but Jun was not feeling very forgiving when Tar mentioned the g word.

Girlfriend.

His cousins were going to gobble that up, two hungry hyenas scenting gossip.

And sure enough, both Kevin and Jacob gasped.

"Yooooooooo no way! But wait-- wait wait, what about Tiffany?" exclaimed Kevin.

" They broke up! Kevin that was in Gomo's Christmas email! I'm sorry Gomo, I swear he read it--"

"Course I read it, I just forgot! Tiffany was around forever!"

"Anyway, this new girl? Tell us about her!" Jacob beamed.

Jun would rather not. He would rather do anything but talk about Haru. He needed to say something fast though or else--

Already too late. Jun's one second grimace opened the window for Eomma.

"Oh she's wonderful! Her name is Haru, she is Japanese but very beautiful! Very polite and friendly and she goes to church--"

Jun cleared his throat. "Yes, we are still getting to know each other. It's new."

"Well she has worked for us for a year, that isn't very new--" Star said with a smirk like the traitor she was.

"Don't you want to show us your new place, Jacob?" interrupted Jun maybe a little desperately, who could say!

"Oh yeah, Zoom tour!" Kevin flashed rock our signs.

"Definitely! I was just hoping we could wait for--" Jacob turned at that moment. "Did you hear that? Oh I think he's here! Wait just one minute everyone!" Jacob waved a hand and then scurried out of the room.

Kevin leaned in to the screen. "Soooooo… anyone else got any hot significant others, hmmm? Star-- Tae, my man??"

TAE:

“Ha,” he blurted, and then instantly he panicked and shut his mouth.

Tae had literally been about to say he had the hottest one. It had been right there on the tip of his tongue, because any chance to talk about how hot Nemo was was something he wanted to take advantage of. Then he remembered that most of his family had absolutely no idea he was gay and if his eomma knew that about him she’d probably tell him he was going to hell.

This zoom call was quickly turning into a nightmare. Not only was he forced to think about how dumb he was, now he had to think about how closeted he was too. He wanted to leave, but he couldn’t, so he sat there and tried to keep a smile on his face while Star babbled on about someone in her class and all her boyfriends or whatever she was talking about.

If Tae had been panicking a little bit less, he might’ve caught it. He might’ve been able to prepare himself for what he was about to see because all the hints were there. No one was trying to hide anything at all.

Jacob had clearly said he’s here and then right after that, Kevin had asked if anyone else had any hot significant others. So yeah, Tae should’ve been prepared when Jacob walked back into the frame holding an unfamiliar boy’s hand.

He should’ve been prepared, but he wasn’t.

In fact, when he saw Jacob walk back into the frame, everything around him went black and he stopped breathing while he gripped his chair so hard his fingers hurt. He was going to pass out.

Tae looked over at his eomma, trying to read her expression, but all he saw was a blank stare.

“Tae!”

Tae blinked and the world filled back in around him. Star was pushing at his back and giggling. “Aren’t you going to say hi? Jacob is introducing his boyfriend!”

“Right, sorry! Hey, it’s nice to meet you,” Tae said with a respectful little bow of his head.

JUN:

From Jun’s point of view, it went like this:

“Star’s flirting with like six different guys right now,” Sky spoke for the first time, right after Tae’s very strange squeak. Jun met Sky’s eyes for a beat, his own eyebrows furrowing down for a moment. Did Sky…? But he thought only Sunny--

“Oh my god, am not,” groaned Star. “Sides, Eomma won’t let me date yet anyway.”

“You’re too young,” said Eomma. “Whoever these boys are too, stop flirting with them--”

“I’m not flirting! I’m friends with them. You won’t let me go out with Tyler--”

“Ooooh, who’s Tyler?” said Kevin, wiggling his eyebrows.

“A friend,” said Star, looking very pointedly at Eomma.

And this was when the door opened and Jacob returned with another boy. He looked Korean, maybe-- was he Korean?-- with short black hair and thick-framed, stylish glasses. He carried coffees with him and a large, friendly smile. But that smile was nothing compared to his cousin’s. His cousin’s smile had crinkled his eyes into precious rainbows and he squeezed the boy’s arm once--

And Jun knew, right before Jacob said anything, but not fast enough to suddenly smash his hand on the keyboard and instantly disconnect them. The panic seized his throat.

“Gomo, everyone, I wanted you guys to meet my boyfriend. This is David!”

“Hey everyone, I’ve heard so much about you,” said this David as he pulled up a chair. He grinned again, leaning closer to the screen. “Seriously, Jacob is always talking about his cool British cousins.”

“Wait, I’m screaming!” squealed Star (not actually screaming). “You have a boyfriend?”

“It’s nice to meet you!” piped in Sunny, and Sky echoed her, “Nice to meet you!”

Jun, meanwhile, was trying not to look at Tae, but could not help himself. And so he kept jumping his eyes around like he was following the path of a fly in the air. Look up, look to the side, look at the mouse, okay, look at Tae--!

Tae looked like he’d been punched in the face.

Eomma looked like she was listening to some very serious news.

“Yes, very good to meet you,” said Eomma finally, after Tae had spoken too. She smiled very politely. “How do you know Jacob?”

“We went to school together,” said David. “Undergrad, I mean.”

“We started dating our third year,” added Jacob. His knee was bouncing, Jun could see it on the screen. Ah, so he was nervous too. Good, he should be, he might have just exploded the Moon families forever! This was sabotage! What was he thinking?! “So it’s our third year together. So we decided to get a place. He’s great,” Jacob gushed. “I mean, totally genius level smart, he works at an engineering firm.”

“Yeah, David’s awesome,” chimed in Kevin.

“What do your parents do?” asked Eomma.

“They’re both teachers actually,” said David. “That’s how they met, uh, in their PhD programs. My mom mostly does after school tutoring in sciences, but my baba’s a professor at McGill.”

“Oh, very impressive,” said Eomma. She pressed her lips together. Jun was staring at her; he could not look away. “And has David met your appa and eomma, Jacob?”

“Yes,” said Jacob with a nod. “Yes, yeah. That’s one of the reasons I wanted you guys to meet him too, you know? We’ve just been dating so long it felt silly at some point, haha!”

TAE:

Tae was having a heart attack.

They’d learned all about it in school--the sweaty palms, the shortness of breath, the unbearable pain in the left side of the chest. He was absolutely going to die right here in this chair while talking to his cousins from Canada. Or he was going to puke. One of those two things was going to happen and it was the most important thing in the world that he not give any of that away with his face. He had to remain still. He had to remain stoic. He was not allowed to talk.

He heard everything Jacob was saying. They’d been dating for a long time. They’d been together so long, actually, that Jacob’s new apartment was actually Jacob and David’s new apartment and his parents knew all about it and they still loved him. They loved him enough for Jacob to think it was a good idea to introduce David to their family.

Their very traditional, Christian family.

Yep.

Tae was actually dying.

The screen in front of him started to waver. Actually, the whole room kind of looked a little misty, and Tae realized there were tears in his eyes. His Eomma was barely moving. She was talking, but they were like short little clipped sentences and Tae was so afraid of what she was going to say when they ended the call. He didn’t want to hear it.

Slowly, Tae looked over at Jun, his eyes big and pleading. He didn’t know what he wanted his hyung to do, but he needed to get out of this. He didn’t want to be here anymore.

A hand, small and warm, was suddenly covering his where he was gripping the chair with all his strength and he looked down to see it was Sunny. She’d leaned forward just a little to reach him and Tae had to cough to cover what sounded suspiciously like a sob. Ha.

He couldn’t think about David meeting his aunt and uncle. He couldn’t think about how cute it probably was and how much they probably loved their son’s boyfriend. If he did, he’d start wondering if it would ever happen for him.

He’d start thinking about bringing Nemo over to his eomma and telling her they were dating. He’d start imagining how happy she would be for them and how supportive she would be when he said they were going to move in together. He’d start daydreaming about what it would be like to live with Nemo and how happy he would be because his family could come visit them and they could cook dinner and entertain and--

He pulled his hand away from Sunny’s and wrapped his arms around his knees.

JUN:

Tae looked at Jun the way he used to when he was just a kid. It had been a long time since Jun had seen that sweet boy in his brother’s face. Those big eyes, that nervous lip. He was five years old and crying about his scabbed knees. He was six and begging Jun for chocolates. He was seven and teary-eyed as he struggled with his maths homework, Jun sitting with him at the kitchen table.

And Jun wished he were the hyung he had been all those years ago-- bad hair and acne but all the time in the world to answer to his brother’s needs. He’d once been a superhero, the smartest person Tae ever knew! There was nothing he could not fix!

But this.

This was Tae, eight years old, asking him not to go away to university. That had been the first time that Jun had ever broken a promise and let his brother down.

And here he was again. He stared back helplessly. What could he do, eh? Stop the call abruptly? Make an excuse for Tae that wouldn’t upset Eomma? Turn back time, call his cousin, tell him that coming out was a bad idea?

And was it?

Jun could not say. Eomma was not causing a scene. She had not shut down. She was not as happy as before, but maybe it was a shock, or maybe the slight had nothing to do with Jacob bringing a boyfriend, and instead it was about him bringing anyone at all to a family call.

Jun would just have to wait and see.

And so he sat there. Just like Tae sat there. He sat there, failing his brother all over again.

“Well I think that’s all super awesome!” blurted Sunny, proving to be more useful than Jun. “Maybe we could visit you guys one day!”

“Totally!” said Jacob.

“Oh yeah, the first ever Moon family reunion!” said Kevin as he pumped his fist. “Man, we’d gotta get some of the O-G Moons.”

“O-G?” David snorted.

“He’s talking about the real Koreans,” said Jacob. “In Korea.”

“You... are real Koreans--” David started.

“Point is, all the Moons!” Kevin said. “One day! Would be fun.”

Jun could only nod and press his lips together. At least they were not talking about David anymore, not really, eh? Best keep it that way. Maybe that was what Jun could do. “So eh, you wanted to give a tour of the apartment?” He prompted.

The rest of the call was mostly that. Jacob walked them around their place. They had been in the spare room, which was mostly an ‘office’, but Jun saw the massive computer screen and knew it was a gaming computer, mhm. And then there was a rather new kitchen, brand new appliances, David bragged. David also talked a lot about some of the apartment complex amenities, the on-site gym, a movie theater big enough for a group of say, eight to ten. He was proud, Jun saw that-- it was an expensive place, and no doubt he was covering most of it for Jacob. Jun wondered about that aspect of their relationship, he wondered if Jacob really was ready for it all, only 25 years old, on the cusp of his start of career, to depend on someone else…

And then the bedroom, which they did not spend much time in, because they wanted to show the bathroom with its nice sized tub.

And then the balcony, which had a nice view of Toronto. Star sighed dreamily. “I wanna live in a city like that one day!”

And then they all said their goodbyes. “This was so fun, I’m so glad you guys could call in,” said gentle, naive Jacob. He did not seem to suspect anything. Maybe he was hiding it. Maybe not.

Eomma stood up first as the Zoom ended. “He is doing very well,” she said. “What a beautiful place to live, eh? See, this is what happens when you study hard.” She looked at Tae sternly.

“Tae, I need your help!” Jun blurted at that moment, slapping the arm of his chair and making his sisters flinch. “With-- there’s-- the thing, you know, I told you to do this morning. You didn’t do it.”

TAE:

The second his hyung spoke, Tae jumped out of his chair and nodded, heading to the back door where he kept his mud boots. He couldn’t breathe. The air in their house had gotten too thick and every time Tae tried to take a breath it stuck in his lungs, gummy and wet.

His eomma hadn’t looked happy. In fact, she hadn’t looked much of anything, her face kind of a blank slate, and Tae’s brain had absolutely no problem projecting all of his fears onto that blank slate. She’d been disgusted. She’d been upset, mad, disappointed.

That last one really was the worst one for Tae.

Pulled his boots up over his jeans and stomped down the stairs, heading toward the barn with one thought swirling through his head over and over and over. You’re already such a disappointment, and when she finds out you’re gay that’ll be the last straw.

It was true, though, wasn’t it? He’d failed a grade. Now, the second time he’d done this school year, he was passing, but just barely. He was stupid. He was a giant idiot and his eomma knew that. That’s why she’d taken that dig at him, told him that if he studied hard he could have a nice apartment like Jacob.

Tae hated Jacob.

Well, no, he didn’t hate Jacob, but the jealousy burned through his bones and left him shaking and empty, barely able to stand. Wait. He wasn’t standing.

Tae looked down at his hands and found them covered in dirt. He was on his knees behind the chicken coop, his chest heaving as his heart attack finally caught up with him. He was going to die. It was kind of a relief actually, because now he wouldn’t have to come out to his eomma at all. He’d just die and be buried in a cute little grave and she could cry and say he’d had so much potential and maybe she’d even believe it because he hadn’t lived long enough for her to see how wrong she was.

He should probably call Nemo before he died, his brain offered up, but he’d left his phone in the house and it was probably better this way anyw--

A loud, rasping sound caught Tae’s attention and he looked around, his eyes wide and wet, until he realized it had come from him.

“I can’t,” he was saying. “I can’t. I can’t. I can’t.”

JUN:

Tae hopped up right away. Good, good, that was what Jun wanted. Jun could not follow his brother as quickly though, caught in the dynamics of the Moon women before he could escape. This mostly consisted of Star gripping at his arm and saying, “Junnie oppaaaa, you need to post a picture of you and Haru on Instagram, so Jacob can see her!”

“I don’t have a personal Instagram,” Jun said and tried to drag his arm away.

“Ugh, I’m making you one, that’s so sad,” said Star.

“Posting a picture would be good, Junnie,” said Eomma. “Maybe Facebook?”

“No one uses Facebook anymore, Eomma!” said Star.

“Aish, that’s not true, I use Facebook all the time,” said Eomma.

“I have to-- help Yeong-tae--” Jun cleared his throat and managed to squeeze out this time around, leaving talks of Facebook and selfies behind.

But not Jacob.

No, he carried that with him as he went outside. He had no idea where Tae would have gone, considering that Jun did not actually give him a task. He headed toward the chickens though, because that seemed to be a good distance from the house. And sure enough-- there was his brother-- on his knees.

Jun stopped, still far away as though he’d stepped in mud and it had sucked his feet down. He did not know what to do. Jun was not someone who comforted others-- not well. Whenever Tae had cried on his shoulder in the past year, he had sat like a useless, limp pillow, just there to be grabbed onto. He did not know what he’d say to Tae now either. He didn’t know how Eomma felt. Maybe she’d never talk about it, and maybe that was a good thing? Maybe later today, she’d rant about it all much too harshly. Jun could make Tae no promises.

Perhaps he should just leave. Hadn’t he already failed his brother enough today? Space could be what Tae needed, just...space, and time, so he could calm down…

This was not the right answer, Jun knew that and so he hesitated, second after second, before finally forcing his feet to move.

“Tae-yah, what are you doing? Get up, come on now,” said Jun, and he reached down to help Tae onto his feet again. His hands went clumsily up to his brother’s face, wiping away the tears over his splotchy red cheeks. “Look at me, eh? Why are you crying?” It was a genuine question, but also Jun felt like Tae needed something firm right now-- someone to keep him grounded, not have him spin off into whatever painful scenarios he was concocting in his head. “Eomma doesn’t know about you, okay? You’re okay. This is a good thing--”

He said it. And he believed it.

His hands moved down to grip his brother’s shoulders. “You aren’t alone anymore, don’t you see that? Jacob understands you, eh? He knows exactly what you’re going through!”

TAE:

“He doesn’t!” Tae heard himself say.

He wasn’t being fair, but he didn’t want to be fair. He wanted to be Jacob.

“He doesn’t know anything. Jacob--his eomma probably didn’t care at all! She probably smiled and hugged him and told him to bring David over for dinner and our Eomma just stared at him like he was gum stuck on the bottom of her s-shoe.”

Tae’s sobs caught up with him and his whole body shook. He didn’t care if what he was saying was true or not because in this moment it was how he felt. Alone.

Except Tae wasn’t alone, and for a moment, it was like he was six all over again. Jun-hyung, was standing here with him, his hands on his shoulders, and telling him everything was going to be okay.

Why couldn’t he live in a world where who he loved didn’t matter? He was a good person! Or, he tried to be at least. Sometimes he got a little bit angry and he was definitely short-tempered but...he just wanted his family to love him. He just wanted to be accepted.

“Hyung, you can’t let her hate me,” he said, his voice a little smaller--like maybe if he said it quiet enough the universe wouldn’t get any ideas. Hot tears slipped down his cheeks and Tae gripped at the hem of his hyung’s shirt. “She’s going to hate me, but you can’t let her.”

JUN:

“She won’t hate you,” said Jun. “I promise.”

It was not something he should promise.

But Jun had always felt this way, since Tae came out to him-- that there could be no other alternative. He could not imagine his loving eomma turning on one of her own children like that, no matter what she believed or didn’t believe. And really, did they know? A belief in God did not mean a belief that all gay people should be damned. He had seen plenty of Christians to argue the opposite: that God meant love, and love was for all of His children.

Maybe Eomma would be shocked, maybe she would be-- disappointed or confused. That was what Jun tried to find on Eomma’s face when Jacob had introduced his boyfriend, but she had been much too polite about it all for him to figure it out. And yes, those emotions might hurt Tae too, but it couldn’t be hate. Never hate.

Jun wished his promise could secure that. He would trade anything in order to give Tae that peace of mind.

As it was, he could only fumble his way through this like always. “Tae-yah,” he said then gently. “You should talk to Jacob again. You don’t know what it might be like for him. He was probably scared too, even if our gomo did accept him right away. I’m telling you, this is good.” He said it again, wiped his brother’s face again. “No matter what happens with Eomma, you will always have family, see? Me, and our sisters, and Jacob and Kevin-- and yes, even Gomo. So many people are going to be there for you.”

TAE:

His hyung was right. Tae knew his hyung was right and he shouldn’t be scared, but it was just so hard not to be. He took a deep, shaky breath and nodded his head. And when he really thought about it, maybe he was just a little bit less scared now than he had been before, because Jacob had come out and nothing had caught on fire. His eomma’s head didn’t explode and she didn’t start praying for him immediately and saying he was going to go to hell. So really, it had been a little bit like a test run and no one had died.

Now that he was a little more calm, Tae really wanted to know how Jacob had done it.

“I--Yeah I think I want to talk to him,” he said in a small voice, still holding onto his hyung’s shirt. “And I think I want to tell Sky and Star too. I think they should know.”

A small seed was starting to bloom bright with hope inside of Tae’s chest and he wanted to water it. He wanted to give it all of his energy until he wasn’t scared at all anymore. He leaned into Jun and wrapped his arms around him, squeezing him tight and pressing his cheek to his chest.

“Thank you, hyung,” he said, and he meant it so much. “Thank you for helping me.”

Maybe it was stupid, but what Tae really wanted now was Nemo. He wanted to tell Nemo all of his feelings. He wanted to explain to him that maybe he was ready, but he was also still so scared and he wanted Nemo to hold him and tell him everything was going to be okay just like his hyung was doing now.

Tae felt safe in his brother’s arms and he wanted to tell Nemo about that too. He wanted to tell Nemo that his hyung was a hero.

“You--I wouldn’t be able to do this without you,” he said, still mumbling. “You’re a good hyung.”

#moon bros #moon cousins #i love jacob and kevin a lot tho they're my boys #para

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rubidusmagnet · 4 years

Text

Beaches and Sandcastle contests

One Piece of Summer Prompt: Beaches, Sandcastles (or sculptures)

Characters: Uni, Heart Pirates

@doctorgerth and @laws-yellow-submarine

Uni was grateful for the time off given to them from their Captain, since after all, the log pose for the island the Tang had currently stopped at was a rather peaceful and benign oceanside beach town known to attract tourists of all kinds including pirates, it was because of this later addition of consumers that prevented Law from fully giving into all the under the sun fun he and the rest of the crew were having, taking full advantage of their shore leave depite the stipulations to stay close to the submarine for now if they planned on having some ‘careless’ fun as their local grumpy boss had put it.

Speaking of that party pooper... Uni tossed a glance from where he was floating on a blue and white striped tube in the surf up towards the beach where Law had relegated himself to at least spend his time sunning himself in yellow trunks beneath the sun on either a towel or against Bepo whenever the Bear came back from soaking himself in the ocean waters, never seeming to mind the small numbing affect such a light splash of sea water probably gave him. Ah, and there he was, it seemed the two have fallen into a short nap by the rise and fall of both of their chests.

Uni need not worry for his Captain getting sunburned as he knew the surgeon was plenty paranoid about matters regarding the health of the body. Instead, he took the time to lean his head back with a squeak of his tube, lazily drifting his long limbs into the cool soothing waters occasionally as he let his thick and fluffy dark brown hair get tugged by the lazy tides.

It wasn’t long however, until his brief lazy drifting was interrupted by a series of harsh splashes before he was suddenly grabbed by someone and dragged off his tube and into the shallow water unceremoniously. Quickly reacting, Uni stood up to his full height before he could accidentally swallow sea water through his chosen solid dark blue bandana for the day. Once he was fully upright, the water from which he was floating on only reached his mid chest while his annoyed dark gaze flit over the amused visage of a certain mischievious Clione who was wadding before him, at least he could take some pleasure in the fact that he was taller than the other.

Waiting for the perfect moment when Clione went to open his mouth to say something, most likely cheeky or playfully taunting to him. Uni launched forward to his surprise and tackled the other into the water with a loud splash, holding onto the other tightly beneath the water for approximately 30 seconds before releasing him and following him back into a stand, his face though hidden from view, now sporting a self satisfies smirk at the others brief gagging.

After coughing up the small amount of sea water he accidentally inhaled on the initial take down, Clione turned watery eyes to a smug looking Uni by the now amused glow in his eyes. Oh have the tables have turned.

“You’re pretty damn sadistic yourself ya know that Uni? Almost like the Captain it’s practically scary to think about.” With a shiver, Uni watched as Clione muttered about ‘Clone Laws’ under his breathe with crossed arms as Clione swiped a hand through thoroughly mussed bowl cut bangs in irritation at being thwarted in his own game.

“Ya know, I actually came out here to tell you something important Uni.”

Raising a disbelieving brow, Uni sought to put down that little theory right away.

“Then why did you drag me off my tube to drown me?”

Jaw dropping, Clione responded back with a punch to his shoulder. “Hey! I wasn’t trying to drown you! if anything, you were the one trying to take me out instead!”

Continuing to play with him for a little bit longer, Uni maintained false seriousness which in a way, was like his own imitation of their Captain with the sadistic gleam coming over Uni’s eyes.

“You know Clione... If I really wanted to drown you, I easily could since you and everyone else knows how long I can hold my breathe, I can even rival Bepo at that!”

A gasp was heard from Clione. “You wouldn’t”

Uni tossed him a wink. “Who knows?”

Realizing where this was headed, Clione had temporarily forgotten about exactly what he intended to say to Uni in the first place and in a bid to escape, attempted to flip himself back wards and began to shuffle and wade quickly through the water until his feet touched sand.

But unfortunately for him, he could not match Uni for speed, so once more, Uni quickly grasped around his middle from behind and in a show of strength, suplexed him headfirst into the water for only 10 seconds longer than before before finally letting up.

Once the two finally dragged themselves ashore after a bout of rough housing in the water did Clione remember what he was going to say, but that wasn’t until after Law got his two cents in, peering at the two of them behind shades while sipping his cool drink. Apparently the Captain was awake unsurprisingly.

“You really should watch out Uni, one of these days you’re gonna drown Clione by accident you know.”

Dramatically gesturing with both arms towards Uni who had to stifle a chuckle at the action, Clione exclaimed. “See! this is what I have to deal with waking up to each day!”

In return for the jab, Uni finally returned the friendly punch from earlier in kind as Law tutted at them from the side before going back to relaxing on his polar bear recliner, who only shifted minutely in his sleep on occasion.

“Well anyways Uni” Clione moved to grasp Uni’s arm to guide him along the beach to where some of the others were apparently gathered. He could see Penguin and Shachi get into a tussle as Ikkaku moved to break them up with a smack to their heads seeing as they were approaching. While slightly behind the group sat Jean Bart who sported black and white tiger-striped trunks on his person, looking gruff as ever as he watched the two first and second mates grasp their smarting heads which were still clad with their hats.

His attention was drawn back to Clione as he explained why he so wanted him to join his impromptu group activity. “I was thinking of a nice little contest we could host with whoever creates the best sand sculpture of Bepo wins a prize.”

Eyebrows raising at the word prize, Uni figured it had something to do with their usual system of winner gets out of chores for the week, but with Clione he wasn’t so certain about that, it could be anything.

When asked what that prize was, Clione simply shushed him with a finger over his lips and a wink before splitting off as they made their way into the small group.

As the apparent leader of such activities, and seeing as everyone was there that Clione had invited and accepted, he began to hash out the rules, of course stating that he was to be the de facto judge of each sculpture as well as the prize giver. To which Uni rolled his eyes at while Shachi and Penguin gave a few boos. “Shouldn’t I be the judge? I’m 2nd mate after all!”

“Hold on! I should be the one because I’m first mate here!”

In order to get a step on Penguin, Shachi pointed out the fact that maybe Bepo should judge since he’s the model after all. But one quick group glance over to the sleeping Mink changed everyones minds quickly as no one dared to disturb his slumber, especially if the insomniac Captain was resting with him as well.

“Well anyways, if it wasn’t obvious already, there will be a time limit for you guys to finish up on your Bepo sandcastles before I come and check them out... and no sabotaging is allowed are we clear?”

A huff sounded in unison, especially from the two disheartened first and second mates who had hoped to get in each others ways during the little competition. “Understood.”

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

The time limit as Clione called it was just within the next hour, he held off on starting the timer until everyone had gotten out the supplies necessary in creating their own depiction of Bepo. Buckets ranged from small to massive in Jean Bart’s case to be used in order to pack wet sand together along with various sculpting tools if necessary.

And in order to make room for each other depending on the size of it, and considering the sheer size of Jean bart’s hands, it was believed that his was bound to be the largest sculpture of them all.

As the timer was set, everybody got to work bringing buckets of sea water over to their area of beach to begin the sculpting process. And not wanting to sike himself out by looking at the others progress, Uni began to mold together a large round mound of wet sand with full intention on using the currently sleeping bear mink as his model.

Unfortunately it seemed he wasn’t the only one with that idea as a majority of the group bar Jean bart were going for the same idea.

‘Guess it’ll be down to who makes the best sleeping polar bear huh?’

Uni didn’t mind the extra pressure of having to compete against other sculptures of a similar type, since after all, he was typically reliable under pressure. The ones he specifically didn’t have to worry about winning was Shachi and Penguin who judging by the disappointed moans and groans coming from their direction, meant they were both not having a good time with their sculpting abilities or lack thereof.

A singular glance up was all it took to confirm his suspicions as he moved onto forming the basis of the limbs and head for his miniature sculpture. Apparently the pair had been foolish enough to believe that being closer to the surf would help strengthen the stability of.... Whatever it was they were trying to make as it was not remotely anything like Bepo.

An amused huff passed Uni’s lips before he continued on his way, now onto scraping out excess sand in order to best mimic a face for the beloved navigator (It looks something like this- :-3). Pleased with his work there, Uni continued on to using the tips of his fingers to create small claws after he cut up the ‘arm’ mounds to mimic fingers. It really was unfortunate that Bepo chose to lay on his stomach as Uni was looking forward to potentially recreating those soft pink pads of his but oh well, maybe next contest if he happens to be the model again.

It wasn’t long after he finished up on his attempt at ears did Clione’s loud voice call for an immediate stop in sculpting. Now it was time to declare a winner.

Uni’s earlier assumptions were correct when with just one look at Penguins and Shachi’s sand sculptures, he shook his head at them and continued on, not needing to say anything to the pouting 1st and 2nd in commands. And there was no winning for them anyways with the piles of sand and sticks poking out that looked more like a sand monster than any kind of mink.

The pair were quickly shushed before they could disrupt Clione’s ‘concentration’ in selecting a winner when to uni it should be obvious who it was. And he wasn’t being presumptuous by believing he won at all, because even though he and Clione were best friends and like brothers every other time, Clione got serious when it came to these silly little contests, especially when he got to be the judge. So whenever events like this happen, No amount of closeness was going to sway Clione’s scrutiny in his favor as much as Uni might secretly want it to.

The top three was down to himself, Ikkaku, and jean Bart now. though it wasn’t long until Uni was knocked out for an apparent lack of ‘realism’ in his attempt. And Uni shrugged it off, he wasn’t exactly aiming for the win but to only spend some time with his nakama but now it was down to the wire, only the sole woman on their crew or jean was going to get the win now.

And gods did it take a while for him to decide. Clione had gotten extra quiet at this point, with his chin cradled between his left thump and forefinger in deliberation. At the very least, he was doing a good job at making the other two sweat waiting for his final judgement.

Finally, without really any explanation, Clione pointed at Jean Bart to indicate him as the winner of the contest. And giving the half-giants sculpture a once over, Uni had to whistle in agreement. It shouldn’t have been a contest at all considering the detail the former slave was able to get down to and with the biggest model of all of them, it seemed Jean was able to practically recreate a life sized version of the navigator standing up no less!

Ikkaku’s though going with the trend everyone else had gone for, was actually much neater than Uni’s which was probably exactly why he had lost if he had to guess. Not to mention some neater detailing as well, but nothing was going to beat jean and Clione said as much.

“Sorry for giving the rest of you guys hope, but Jeans is the best hands down.”

A hum of agreement rang our around the circle, it was practically agreed upon right then, that this model should be allowed to stay up for as long as possible while the rest were quickly stomped on to rejoin the rest of the beach as a flat soft surface.

Letting his lanky body drop down onto his back, Uni didn’t dare look up to see exactly what Clione had to give as a gift for Jean. Nor did he mind listening to the others still at play all around him. The contest being over, Uni wanted to take the time to get some rest himself as Bepo and his Captain were doing. The grit and dampness of the sand actually doing their work in settling him into a light nap at the natural feel of the earth below his body.

This day as any other time was bound to be a precious memory for Uni to keep in his heart for all time until another one can be made. The simplicity of it all left a smile on hidden features as he closed his eyes for just a little while. He could definitely count on someone waking him up for supper time in the galley should he fall in too deeply into the land of dreams on future adventures.

#one piece of summer #Ummmmm I might have practically written chapter here but here we go #doctorgerth #laws-yellow-submarine #Day at the beach #Heart Pirates #Ikkaku #Uni #Penguin #Shachi #Bepo #Jean Bart #Trafalgar law #And what gift did Clione give?#who knows #only Clione does #Clione

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x1musings · 4 years

Text

“do you need a ride home?” + “your idea of fun always involves breaking the law.”

☆pairing: seungyoun x reader

☆request: #11 + #22 from 101 prompts by anon

☆genre: fluff

☆word count: 3.2k

☆a/n: nei not writing about a party challenge failed. i swear my last 4 one-shots all involve a party, which is hilarious considering i hate parties with a passion. anyway, sorry it’s late, but i hope you like my first seungyoun one-shot. be sure to reply, tag or send me asks with your reactions 😊 i want to read everything.

your head is pounding, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the music that was so loud that it pulsed through your body, or the one too many shots you were peer pressured into drinking. either way, the room felt like it was spinning, and you knew you had to get out of that room before you passed out or threw up. you get up, and stagger to the balcony, sighing with relief when you see that it was empty. you had stopped drinking about an hour ago, but you could still feel the effects of the alcohol coursing through your blood. you lean your head over the railing, taking in deep breaths of fresh air.

“woah, i don’t think you should be doing that. not in your current state.”

you feel warm hands on your bare shoulders, drawing you back. you turn slowly, raising an eyebrow when you see who’s holding you upright. cho seungyoun. you had heard many things about him - some good, few bad and most ridiculous - but you had never actually met him before. even though you had seen him in passing before, you had never seen him this close. and the rumours did his appearance no justice. sure, he had that cliché bad boy vibe to him with his leather jacket, fitted white tee and ripped jeans, but there was a boyish aura to him beneath the troublemaker exterior. his semi-long black hair was pushed back, showcasing his eyes, which are usually somewhat covered by his hair. his eyes draw you in, the easy-going humour in the surface, but something darker below. his smile was equally as sinful as it was charming. the cold rings on his fingers contrasted with the warmth his hands were radiating into the skin of your shoulder. just looking at him, you knew there was more to him, than the rumours say. and you didn’t know if it’s because of the alcohol coursing through your blood, but you wanted to get to know everything about him.

seungyoun waved his hand in front of your face. you had been staring at him so intently, you hadn’t noticed he was talking to you.

“i’m sorry, what did you say?”

he smirked, seemingly knowing that you were checking him out. “do you need a ride home? you look incredibly drunk right now, and i don’t think i should leave you alone.”

as much as drunk you wanted to get to know the real seungyoun, the growing sober part of you was sending warning signals throughout your body. you don’t know him well enough to trust him to take you home safely, it tells you.

��i…i don’t think i can go with you. i don’t know you.”

his smirk falls ever-so-slightly that you think you imagined it. “ah so you’ve heard the rumours about me, huh?”

“no, it’s not that,” you say quickly. “i just prefer someone that i know better.”

“well if you can find a sober person in there that you know better, then get them to take you home. but if you can’t, the offer still stands.”

you both knew that the chance of finding someone else who was sober was close to nil. most of your friends at the party lived either in the same building or in the other on-campus housing that was walking distance from this one, while you still lived with your parents. it was too late to catch the bus, and you didn’t trust yourself walking home, knowing your clumsy ass would somehow end up tripping and falling to your death. and to make matters worse, you had no cash on you and you phone had died two hours ago. if fate was pushing you towards seungyoun, it was doing a darn good job of giving you no other option.

“ok fine, but can i use your phone first? mine’s dead.”

he nodded, unlocking his phone and giving it to you. you log out of his facebook, and log into your account. opening your group chat, you send a quick message telling your friends that you were leaving and that seungyoun was taking you home. you send another message reassuring them that you would message them when you got home and charged your phone. you log out of your account and give him back his phone.

“all good?”

you nod, thanking him. you take a chance to actually see if he really was sober. he wasn’t swaying or slurring, but that didn’t mean he didn’t drink.

“why are you staring at me like that?” he asks, looking a little apprehensive.

“are you actually sober?” you ask, not hiding the suspicious tone in your voice.

“100%.”

“why would you come to a party and not drink at all?”

he leans in, caging you between his body and the railing behind you, and his sinful yet charming smile graces his lips again. “maybe because i wanted the chance to play prince charming for some drunken damsel.”

you roll your eyes and lean in to look him dead in the eye. “so, i’m just your unlucky target.”

he scoffs, “i wouldn’t call you unlucky, especially when i’m so kindly offering to drive you home.”

you were about to retort but someone had opened the balcony door, and the sound of the music made the pounding in your head return. you wince at the pain, surprised when you came to the realisation that the pain had disappeared while you had been talking to seungyoun.

“can you please take me away from here?” you ask, as you hold your head.

his eyes soften as he watches you cradle your head. “sure, let’s go. i just need to get something from the kitchen, so just wait outside for me.”

you nod, bracing yourself to walk through the loud apartment. you make your way through the crowd, quickly scanning to see if you could see any of your friends, so that you could tell them in person that you were leaving. but to your dismay, you couldn’t see any of them. you just hoped that they will see the messages you sent them before they panicked. though knowing them and their tendency to believe every rumour they hear, they would still panic after reading your messages, especially after the part where you tell them that you’re with cho seungyoun. the campus troublemaker.

you wait outside the front door, a safe distance from the music. it didn’t take long for seungyoun to leave the apartment and stand in front of you, holding out two bottles of water and a banana.

“this is for you. sorry i would have gotten you something else to eat, but this was all i could find.”

you heart swelled at his words. how did anyone actually believe that this boy was a big, bad troublemaker, especially after meeting him? he was a complete sweetheart. you thank him, as you take the banana and a water bottle from him. holding the other water bottle, he leads you to the elevator and then to his car.

“this is your ride?”

seungyoun paused as he opened the passenger door to let you in. “yeah, why?”

“nothing, i was half-expecting you to ride a motorcycle, and i was thinking of ways to avoid getting on it.”

he rolled his eyes as he gestured for you to get into the car. “i guess you believe all the rumours about me, huh?”

you brush past him and sit in the passenger seat. “not all of them, just a few that had proof to back it up.”

he closes the door and walks over to the driver’s seat. “like what?” he asks as he starts the engine.

“like the rumour that you were the one that beat the crap out of the headmaster’s kid. there were videos of that everywhere and everyone figured out it was you because of your tats.”

“he deserved it. the video only shows one half of the story,” seungyoun groaned, as he reversed out of the parking space and drove off. “where do you live?”

you sigh. you didn’t really want to go home while you were still drunk, knowing the lecture that would be waiting for you at home. “can we go somewhere else? i don’t want to go home right now.”

seungyoun smirked, “why? you don’t want your parents to see their goody-two-shoes daughter drunk?”

you scoff at his assumption. “what makes you think i’m a goody-two-shoes?”

“i’m not the only one who has rumours spread about them. our uni is small enough that everyone knows about you and all of your good-girl activities. like organising a big fundraiser for… what was it?”

“…the orphanage down the road.”

“oh yeah. noble cause.”

you roll your eyes at him, turning to stare outside. you watched the building blur as seungyoun sped through the empty road. you didn’t bother to tell him to slow down, knowing your words would just go through one ear and out the other.

“so, what’s the most ridiculous rumour that you’ve heard about yourself that’s false?” you ask, the curiosity eating at you. you had heard so many ridiculous rumours about him, but you couldn’t tell which were true and which were false.

“hmm, the one about me streaking through uni with a mask on. that was my friend, not me. i have standards, you know?”

you laugh, “oh do tell.”

he stopped at a red light, and turned to you, leaning close enough that you could see the mischievous glint in his eye. “the only time i take my clothes off in public is if i’m having sex with someone.”

for the first time in your life, you didn’t have a witty reply ready on the tip of your tongue. you wanted to blame the alcohol, but you knew it had less to do with that and more to do with seungyoun’s piercing gaze that threatened to unravel you. it was like he could read your every thought and feeling, and that scared you more than any of the rumours you had heard about him. you quickly break your eye connection with him and turn back to the window.

he laughs to himself as he turns back to road ahead of him. he had wanted to get under your skin, ever since he first laid eyes on you. he had watched you during the party, the ever-composed girl that seemed to have her whole world under her control, even when she was completely drunk. or rather that was what you wanted everyone to think. he wanted to see the girl under the carefully constructed mask. and he had just seen his first glimpse of her.

when you composed yourself, you turned back to him. “so, where exactly are we going?”

his eyes lit up in a way that filled your stomach with dread. “i have an idea. it’ll be fun!”

you shake your head immediately. “your idea of fun always involves breaking the law.”

he huffed in indignation. “name one time i actually broke the law.”

“what about the time you decided to spray paint the wall near the law building? you can’t deny it, because i saw you get arrested with my own eyes.” you lean your elbow on the centre compartment and rested your head on your hand, looking at him with expectant eyes. let’s see you weasel your way out of this one, you think to yourself, unable to hide the smirk playing at your lips.

he took a second to look at you before turning back to the road. “ok, that one is true.”

you grin to yourself, knowing he couldn’t see you, as you leaned back into your seat. “so, what’s your idea? let’s hear it before i say no.”

seungyoun smirked. “what makes you think you think i’ll tell you now? just wait and see.”

you continued to pester him for hints for the remainder of the ride, and he ignored every word you uttered, with a shit-eating grin plastered on his face. you grumble to yourself about how he’s a massive asshole, loud enough that he could hear you. somehow, his grin widens as he parks the car.

“we’re here.” you glance outside to see that you had arrived at… the zoo?

you look at him with incredulous eyes. “you brought me to the zoo?”

“yes. have you ever been to the zoo after hours?”

“obviously not, because i’m a law-abiding citizen.”

“more like a boring citizen.” he unbuckles his seatbelt and gets out of the car. he walks over to your side, and opens the door, urging you out with his eyes, but you shake your head and hold onto your seatbelt. “come on y/n, it’ll be fun. no children, no people. just us, the animals and nature.”

“and security guards who will throw us in jail when they find us trespassing.”

he leans over you and unbuckles your seatbelt. “don’t be such a baby. i’ve done this before, and i’ve never been arrested. just trust me, ok? i won’t put you in danger.”

he offers you his hand and waits for you to make up your mind. did you trust him? short answer: no, but you wanted to. you debated the pros and cons of going with him, and slowly the logical side of you lost out. you pull your hands away from the seatbelt and grab his hand. he grins as he pulls you out of the car. he closes the door softly and leads you to a wall. he boosts you up over the wall, and you help to pull him up with your limited upper body strength. seungyoun jumps down, and land softly on the grass below. you hesitate, knowing from past experience that your clumsy self would roll your ankle as you jump down.

seungyoun spreads his arms out, whispering, “jump, i’ll catch you.”

you jumped, closing your eyes as you braced yourself for the inevitable pain you were going to feel.

“you ok there, y/n?” seungyoun’s soft voice made you open your eyes to see that he had caught you safely in his arms, cradling you against his chest.

it took you a second to shake yourself out of the daze you had fallen into and scramble to your feet. “yeah, i’m fine, thanks.”

“ok, let’s go.” seungyoun grabs your hand and leads you towards the closest enclosure, which happened to be the giraffe enclosure. in the dark, it was hard to see the animals properly. you could barely make out the curled-up giraffes sleeping.

“i can’t see anything, and all the animals are sleeping. so why do you even come here?” you whispered. the more you knew about him, the more confused you got. who is this boy?

“it’s peaceful being here but there’s also that sense of danger that you’d get caught.”

you roll your eyes. he was hiding something behind that tough guy act. “you can feel that same sense of danger if you break into any place, like an office building or a shopping centre. so why here specifically?”

seungyoun stares back at you, and you wait to see if his mask slips. but before you could do anything, seungyoun whips his head to the side, before pulling you behind the big tree next to you. you are flush against seungyoun, one hand on his chest and the other on his arm to stabilize you. his arms are wrapped around your waist, holding you against his body. you could feel every one of his muscles under his thin shirt, and smell of his cologne overpowered your senses.

“what happened?” you whisper to him.

“i saw a light. i think it’s the security guard.”

you groan softly, as you rest your head against his chest, feeling like you were going to throw up due to the dread and anxiety in your stomach. “we’re going to be arrested. we’re going to jail.” you whisper into his chest, not knowing if he could hear you at all.

seungyoun leans in close, sending a shiver down your spine as you feel his breath on your ear. “we’re not going to get arrested. but even if we do, i have really good lawyers.”

you lift your head to give him a glare, but when you noticed how close his face was to yours, all thoughts flew out of your head. you were struck at how handsome he was. sure, you had noticed how attractive he was before, but now in the moonlight, with the wind in his hair, soft smile on his lips and that vulnerable look in his eye, he had never looked better. so, this is what he looks like without his mask on.

you lean up slightly, smiling as he inhales sharply, and press your lips against his softly. you pull away to see his reaction, but he pulls you back, and kisses you with more passion. you moan softly, still aware of your surroundings, and you snake your arms around his neck, raking your fingers through his hair. he groans into your mouth as you pull at his hair slightly, his fingers digging into your waist as he pulls you closer to him. the kiss was messy, but passionate, like you two couldn’t get enough of each other.

after a while, seungyoun pulls away slowly, still holding you close to him.

“we should go before we get caught.” his voice sounded huskier than it had before, which made you smile at the knowledge that you could unravel him in the same way he unravelled you.

“let’s go.”

once you had checked that the coast was clear, you both made a dash towards the wall, and left the same way you had come in. as you walked to seungyoun’s car, you couldn’t help but giggle at the ridiculous adventure you had been on.

before you could open the passenger seat, seungyoun turned you around and pushed you against the door. he held your face in hands gently, like he was afraid to break you, and planted a soft kiss on your kiss-swollen lips.

he pulled away with a shy smile, asking, “so when’s our next date?”

you raise an eyebrow at his assumption. “this wasn’t a date. dates with me always involve a meal.”

“i gave you a banana.”

“that’s not a meal, that’s a snack.”

seungyoun laughed to himself. “ok fine. are you free tomorrow for dinner?”

you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips. “i might be, i’ll have to check my schedule.”

seungyoun leans in close, so close you could feel his breath on your lips. “clear it. go on an actual date with me?”

you didn’t have to think twice before answering. “ok.”

after laying another soft kiss on your lips, seungyoun ushers you into the car. as he drives to your home, you think about the crazy night you had. when you first arrived at the party, you had expected the night to go exactly like every other night. little did you know, you would end up on a date with the campus troublemaker, who was nothing like the rumours had claimed. you smile as you intertwine your fingers with his. boy, were you glad that fate pushed you to seungyoun.

#x1 #x1net #x1 imagines #x1 scenarios #x1 au #x1 fluff #cho seungyoun #101 prompts #mine: x1 #mine: fluff #i don't know where this was going #i'm not sure how i feel about this one #especially the ending #please give me some feedback

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nkp1981 · 4 years

Text

Part 5 of a story with an angry cook named Joe and a quiet book nerd named Nicky

Part 4 can be read here: https://bit.ly/3dP6OMw

The library became their own little world and they only left it, when they needed to take a shower, make some food, take a walk around the block, which normally happened right after Joe came home from work, which Joe had started to hate even more now, but he knew that Andy would keep an eye on Nicky for him.

“Andy, can I ask you for a last favor?” Nicky asked, when Joe one day were forced to take a late shift at the diner. “A last one? That’s new.” Andy joked and looked up from her phone, but the look on Nicky’s face told her he meant it seriously. “Anything, kiddo.” Andy said and put her phone in the pocket. “Make sure that Joe is never alone again if anything happens to me.” Nicky said after he had searched to find the right words. “I promise you that, Nicolo. You have my word.” Andy replied and Nicky knew she would keep the promise no matter what, and Andy suddenly realized that Nicky for once had started to think about his future, which scared her, because she preferred the quiet boy with his nose in a book. “When is Joe back?” Andy wanted to know in an attempt to change the subject. “In two hours. Go, you got your own plans, right?” Nicky asked with a mischievous smile. “Stop it, young man, but first let us check your blood sucker, then I decide whether to leave or not.” Andy replied and took the glucometer. A half hour later Andy left and texted Joe, that everything was ok, and that Nicky had fallen asleep.

When Joe came home, he saw a plate with sandwiches on the countertop with a note from Nicky that said: “Never gonna be a great cook, but I do know how to make strawberry jam sandwiches.” Which made Joe smile, so he took one bite but had to spit it out, because his mouth was on fire. After drinking the last of the milk, he saw the jar, Nicky had thought was strawberry jam and started to laugh, because it was the jar with harissa paste and made a mental note, that he should probably start to translate, what was in every jar that had Arabic writing on it in case Nicky wanted to make more sandwiches in the future.

After having washed himself and changing the shirt, Joe made his way into the library, where he saw Nicky on the sofa, who was twisting and turning obvious having a nightmare, so he kneeled down next to the sofa, where he gently ran a couple of fingers through Nicky’s hair. “Hey, easy now. It’s only me.” Joe said in a calm tone, and when Nicky saw Joe, he clung to him and tried to breathe normally again. “What did you dream about?” Joe wanted to know and cupped Nicky’s cheek for the first time, which Nicky leaned into. “The shelter. I don’t seem to shake it off.” Nicky replied in a sad tone. “You aren’t going back to that place as long, I got something to say about it, so I truly hope that you will stay here with me.” Joe said with a small hope in voice, which only grew, when Nicky placed a finger under Joe’s chin and pulled him in for a kiss. “Sorry, I..” Nicky said, but before he could finish the sentence, Joe kissed him, before he leaned his forehead against Nicky’s, while they both giggled a bit like schoolgirls. “Come, I keep you safe.” Joe promised after a bit and pulled Nicky with him down on the sofa, where he took around Nicky. They once again found each other’s hands in the darkness, where they merged their fingers. “Nicky, do you want to go on a date with me?” Joe asked after a bit. “I thought, you would never ask.” Nicky replied and looked up at Joe with a smile in his eyes. “How were the sandwiches?” Nicky wanted to know and Joe, who’s mouth still was a bit on fire from eating harissa paste. “It was a culinary experience.” Joe replied leaving Nicky a bit confused over how strawberry jam sandwiches could be that. “But I suggest we eat out tomorrow.” Joe added and kissed Nicky again. “I got an idea, but it is a bit from here.” Nicky suggested with a secret smile, that told Joe, he was in for something good. “If you know the place, I’ll get a car, so we can get there.” Joe replied and started to run his fingers through Nicky’s hair, when Nicky laid his head on Joe’s chest. It didn’t take long before Nicky was sleeping, and Joe thought as the last thing, before he also fell asleep, that he had never been happier, and for the first time in their life, they both had a decent night's sleep.

In the morning Joe rented a car and they drove north until; they came to a small truck stop in the middle of nowhere. “This is your idea for a date?” Joe asked skeptically when he got out of the car. “Trust me on this.” Nicky replied with a smile and Joe followed inside, where they got a table in the half empty room. “Nicolo! It’s so good to see you.” A woman said in Italic when she saw them. “Likewise, Gina. Is it so that we can get two plates with your gnocchi and a box of sfogliatella with us?” Nicky asked and Gina nodded, before she headed for the kitchen. “Believe it or not but here you get the best Italic food in New York. You just need to ask politely.” Nicky said and took Joe’s hand. “With your personality it isn’t a problem.” Joe replied dried and kissed Nicky’s hand. “Thanks, but you aren’t as bad as you think.” Nicky said with a smile, that somehow made Joe believe in him. “So, how did you find an Italic restaurant in the middle of nowhere?” Joe wanted to know and caressed Nicky’s fingers. “I actually worked here the first summer when I got here just before I started at uni. Not as a cook but as the dishwasher.” Nicky replied and gave Gina a smile when she placed the food on the table. “Actually, I was hoping to get the job as the dishwasher in another diner, when an angry cook shouted at me and I gave up on that idea.” Nicky said after eating the first mouthful and it took Joe a moment, before he realized what Nicky was talking about, but before he could say something, Nicky placed a hand over his. “Don’t think about it anymore, because I know now that the angry cook actually is a very nice cook.” Nicky added and gave Joe’s hand a squeeze. “Tomorrow, I tell my boss, I’ve found a new dishwasher.” Joe said and returned the squeeze. “Bad idea it might end with, that you burn the food, because you can’t keep your eyes from me. No, don’t deny it, Joe. I have seen how your eyes follow me around the room, stalker.” Nicky replied in a teasing tone, that made Joe laugh so loud, that he almost choked in the gnocchi. “Thanks for that, love, I did deserve that, but what are your plans then?” Joe asked interested and drank the rest of the water. “I should really write the rest of my final paper for my bachelor’s degree, so I can get a job, so you don't have to pay for everything. I know, you see it as a way of paying it back for treating me so bad on that day, but Joe I don’t want your money, I want to me with you wherever it might be in the world, so when I’m graduate in August, you should quit your job and we find a place of our own.” Nicky said in a warm welcoming tone and held his hand out as an invitation, which Joe took without any hesitation. “That’s a deal and can’t wait. Actually, I think, there’s an old typewriter somewhere in one of the boxes if you want to use it.” Joe offered and caressed Nicky’s fingers again. “Well, it’s better than writing the paper in the hands.” Nicky replied, and they continued talking for hours and for them both this was the best date in their life. When they had eaten, Nicky took the box, Gina handed him. “Thanks, what do I owe you?” Nicky asked in italic. “Nothing, this is on me, but you can always come back and you can pay by washing the dishes.” Gina replied with laughter in her voice.

“Come, I got something, I want to show you.” Nicky said and Joe took the box from him, so he could take around Nicky as they walked. “This is one of my favorite places. It reminds me of a spot back home in Genova.” Nicky said, when they sat down on a log, where they could see New York in the distance. “What spot?” Joe wanted to know and took one of the sfogliatella, while Nicky found a photo in his jacket. “As a kid it was one of my favorite spots in the world, because you could see Genova in the distance. I sneaked into the garden and could spend hours sitting in the grass with a book, because it felt like a home to me until I got caught by the owner, who dragged me back to the monks, who scolded me, that I should show some respect for another man’s property. It’s a shame that the house burned down.” Nicky explained and leaned into Joe’s shoulder. “Promise me to show it, when we go to Genova.” Joe said and Nicky promised him it. They sat on the spot until the cold set in and went back to the apartment, where they made love for the first time.

They woke around noon the next day and after laying a bit adjusting to the daylight, before they took a shower, but when Nicky wanted to make a sandwich, Joe took the jar out of Nicky’s hand. “Not this one.” Joe said and handed Nicky another jar. “Why?” Nicky wanted to know, and reluctant Joe told Nicky, that it was harissa paste and not jam. “I’m really sorry.” Nicky said and looked even more sorry. “In a way, we’re even now. I put too much salt in the cake and you used harissa paste.” Joe replied and pulled Nicky in for a kiss. After eating breakfast, they started to search for the typewriter. “What’s in all of those boxes?” Nicky wanted to know when he saw the room had boxes from floor to ceiling. “The last stuff from my parents, that I never have gotten around to look through and my own stuff.” Joe replied and started to move some of the boxes. “No, no not that one.” Joe said frantic, when Nicky opened one of the boxes, but it was too late, because Nicky had found all the drawings Joe had made of Nicky. “Did you make these?” Nicky asked impressed and looked through them. “Can’t deny it.” Joe replied and explained it was his way of remembering Nicky. “Why are you cooking and not drawing? I mean, you should go to art school or something.” Nicky wanted to know, which was not the reaction Joe had expected from Nicky. “According to my father a man shouldn’t draw, because you can’t earn a living on it.” Joe replied and continued with looking through the boxes. “Joe, look at me.” Nicky said and it took Joe a moment before he did it. “You’re not your father but you and is it not about time, you stop listening to a dead man and follow your own dreams?” Nicky asked and it was the first time someone had asked the question out loud, that had been roaming around Joe’s head ever since his parents died. “I will do that when you graduate. Found it.” Joe replied triumphant over finding the typewriter. When Joe stood in the library, he realized that Nicky hadn’t followed him and it took a minute, before Nicky joined him. “I want you to draw, while I write or else you can sleep alone.” Nicky said and handed Joe some papers and coal. It was the first time anyone had made an ultimatum in Joe’s life. “Fine.” Joe replied, took the paper and sat down on the floor, while Nicky took one of the stools that were in the library and used the window sill as a makeshift desk, before he started to write.

Often during the next couple of weeks, Joe walked into the library after work to find the floor covered in papers, Nicky had written, while Joe was gone. “Don’t move.” Nicky said with panic in his voice from behind and started to collect the papers in an order, that didn’t make sense to Joe. “Are you writing a paper or a book?” Joe joked, because he had seen how the stack with papers had grown day by day. “Actually both. Did you get them?” Nicky wanted to know and looked briefly at Joe, before returning to collecting his papers and Joe held up the color typewriter ribbon. “Fantastic. You’re the best.” Nicky said grateful and gave Joe a smile. “You do know it took me the better of two hours to find them.” Joe complained without sounding sorry. “When I’m finished with this chapter, I’ll repay you.” Nicky promised and took the ribbons from Joe, before kissing him. “Can’t wait. I’m gonna make dinner, so you can get finished with this.” Joe replied and looked at Nicky, who was spinning around in the search for a page.

That was the last day of the good days, because after that all Nicky wanted was to sleep. On the second day Joe got worried and called Andy, so she could check if they had done it correctly with managing Nicky’s diabetes and medicine. “Joe, he needs to go to the hospital. I think it’s his heart.” Andy said, while trying not to sound too worried. “I can call the ambulance if you want.” Andy offered and placed a hand on Joe’s arms, who was deep in his thoughts. “Let me. It’s better if it’s me, he is angry at for taking him back to the hospital.” And went over to sit next to Nicky and took his hand, while Joe made the most difficult phone call in his entire life.

“Did you understand me? He might only have days left.” The Doctor said and looked at Joe, who was looking at Nicky. “Will an operation help?” Joe asked in a desperate hope, that it would mean he could keep Nicky a bit longer. “No sadly not. All we can do is to offer pain relief.” The Doctor replied and Joe nodded, before he walked into the room, where he took Nicky’s hand. “What are you doing?” Nicky asked in a tired tone when he saw Joe with the mobile phone. “Calling my lawyer so he can find a better Doctor.” Joe replied, but before he could make the call Nicky placed a hand over it. “Joe listen to me. You have to accept that money can’t buy you everything, you want, and I prefer to spend my last days without being a guinea pig but with you and Andy somewhere else than here, because I don’t want to die in a hospital.” Nicky said and cupped Joe’s cheek, who for the first time in his life started to cry. “Where do you want to go?” Joe muttered with a broken voice. “I want to see some water.” Nicky replied and Joe started to think like a mad. “Only if Andy says yes, ok?” Joe said and looked at Andy, who nodded. “I’ll help you.” Andy said and took the other chair. “Anything else?” Joe wanted to know and ran a couple of fingers through Nicky’s hair. “Maybe this is bad timing, but I want to marry you.” Nicky muttered, before he closed his eyes and Joe kissed Nicky on the forehead. “Off course, I will marry you.” Joe whispered and kissed Nicky once again on the forehead. “I could find the hospital priest if you want to, while you find a place for us, but remember it needs to be big enough for the medical equipment.” Andy said and Joe nodded, so while he made the call to Le Livre, Andy went searching for the priest.

It took only Le Livre a couple hours to find a house for Joe near the ocean with the promise that it would be ready the next morning with everything they needed. When Nicky woke a couple of hours, he looked at Joe and Andy, who were talking. “I hope it isn’t me, you are talking about.” Nicky joked, which made them both smiles. “We’ll be leaving, when the ambulance is ready, but first let’s fulfill one of your wishes if you meant, what you said about marrying me, because you need to know, that I’ve a habit of shouting and stalking people.” Joe joked, which made Nicky laugh. “I can live with that, but I don’t want to get married in a hospital gown.” Nicky replied and looked down at it with the same look in his eyes back then. “That’s why, I bought this.” Joe said and found the sweater Nicky loved. “Thanks.” Nicky replied gratefully and let Andy help him the sweater on before the hospital priest married them. That was the last time Nicky sat up.

They got eight days in the summerhouse, where Andy and Joe sat at Nicky’s bed taking turns to read books for him even though, he wasn’t much awake and when he was, they both promised to look after each other in the future, because that was the only thing on his mind, that they shouldn’t be alone again. “Hey!” Joe said with a smile when Nicky looked at him with a different look than before an early morning. “Andy? Do you mind opening the window?” Nicky asked tired and Andy stood up to open the window and looked out on the horizon.“Hey love don’t be sad; I’ll never leave you for good, and we’ll see each other one day again. Do you remember what I told you about the wind?” Nicky asked with a smile. “That it’s you, who stalks me for a change.” Joe replied and cupped Nicky’s cheek and took a firm grip around the other hand. When the wind hit Andy’s face the heart monitor made a sound that told them that Nicky had died, which left them both heartbroken in different ways.

my creation

#nicolo di genova #nicky #luca marinelli #marwan kenzari #joe #yusuf al-kaysani #yusuf x nicolo #joe x nicky #the old guard

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captainjanegay · 3 years

Note

hello kasia!! ok so i know at this point you’re probably sleeping? maybe? you should be at least! 😂 but earlier i promised i’d check in! i just came upstairs from “finishing” my physics homework, so i’m pretty exhausted 😅 it’s very note heavy and as someone who hates reading with every fiber of their being, it’s frustrating. pushing through, though!!

today was pretty tough, i’ll admit. i accidentally forgot to take my anxiety med last night, and it’s usually ok if i catch up in the morning, but i slept through my alarm and 1) missed breakfast, and 2) forgot my meds AGAIN. so i was both hungry, late on my anxiety meds, and i forgot my adhd med 🤦🏼‍♀️ i surprisingly made it through the day though? i had work after and it was so crazy (the people who were there earlier in the day weren’t keeping up on the orders and i ended up having to do a speed run of nearly 100 items in less than hour— i was a little late but i didn’t really care at that point lmao). partway through my shift, i started feeling the effects of my forgotten meds too because i was feeling sick. it wore off though and i’m feeling okay now!

honestly at this point i’m just really tired and i want to watch a show to relax a bit! i also think i somehow chipped the back of my front tooth while eating, so that’s been driving me crazy all day 🙄 today has just been awful so i’m hoping tomorrow goes better!

ok i’ll shut up about me now! i’m so happy you’ve been doing a bit better kasia! you deserve that, so i’m glad you’re feeling better and that your writing has been going well ☺️❤️ i hope i didn’t jinx it! i’m sending you all my love and my biggest hugs honey, i love you so much 🥺💕 i hope you have a great tuesday! (i almost just said monday realizing it is not, in fact, monday tomorrow 🤦🏼‍♀️😂)

I was sleeping! Dhjajs 😂💚 so I've woken up to seeing your name in my notifs, which is the best way to wake ;') 💚

Ugh, I hated physics at school and I was pretty bad at it. Like at most science subjects even though I do find some of them interesting, like I love reading popular science books and articles but learning it at school? Nope, thanks.

I'm sorry you've had a rough day but I'm so proud of you for making it! Even despite forgetting about your meds you've felt with everything and that's so great 💚💚 and getting so much work done even despite feeling bad! You're so incredible!

I really hope you've been able to watch some supernatural and chill and take a breather, you really deserve it! 💚 I send you all the good vibes, all of my love and affection and all the strength to deal with school and work although you have plenty of your own! 💚

Yeah, I've been awfully stressed about uni since I've skipped that other week when I was sick (I'm still only a bit better though dhsjsj) but the classes were ok and I didn't miss as much as I thought :') so obvsly I worried for nothing but that's standard for me dhjsjs and being able to write is great although I'm not a big fan of the things I write but the important part is that the writing log is working and it keeps me motivated and I can edit all the bad shit later :') which would be hard in its own way but hey, that's a problem for future me dhsjsj I've been hearing so many nice things about my writing lately it makes me think I might not suck so much dhsjsj :')

It's ok, I never remember which day it is, time is a lie anyway dhajjs Thank you so much for sending this! I really enjoy hearing about your day, your opinions and thoughts and literally anything that's on your mind! 💚 Sorry the reply took me a while! I love you so so much and I hope the rest of the week will be kind to you cause that's what you deserve! 💚💚💚

#also i was like #im gonna make myself some tea before i continue with my bad christmas movies marathon #and while i wait for the water to boil and tea to brew i should write something! for the sake of the log!#but then i was like #'how about answering that ask for helena instead i was supposed to do that earlier anyway' djjsjs #so you've saved me from having to finish that bad dialogue I've tried to deal with yesterday #i guess I'm gonna leave it to the 2 a.m. me shes gonna handle it dhsjsj #i love you sweetcheeks 💚💚💚

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throwingideasatthewall · 3 years

Text

Clone Wars: Season 2

Episode 1 Holocron Heist

We just had a heist

[One nonsense enough to knock me into nonsensical incoherent rambling...]

Two

Okay...

I’m prepared...

To do. nonsense...

Urgh

Okay..

[Title Screen]

[Woah!]

.... ..

Aight

Okay

A lesson learned, A lesson earned

Oh..

That snapped me out of it,

A lesson earned is a lesson earned

[you don’t need a person to tell you basic common sense you can figure out yourself]

....

Assumed authority is bullshit Don’t need to earn any- [Sorry, Still Recov- er- ing From Last ep- Isode]

Okay...

Any-way

Jedi on a planet . .

Some-how tr ap ped - Surrounded Clones - Right- - Why?

Like - if you needed parts-

Okay-

I’m in

-terested

Any way...

Wait cruisers?

Gun ships? R-escue

Oh wait-

That’s Good

Oh No,

It’s Plo..

Jokes About How He Got His Men Blown Up Just gonna put this over here

Been a while

Also Hey yeah what is he doing here?

Doesn’t he have Jedi things to do?

Get a new fleet?

I mean th- (Don’t Condone Child So- L diers!)

But every time it’s always Obi-Wan and Anakin because all the rest of them are too busy

So What-

Alright - Whelp - I don’t care —-

Whelp — Ex-plo — Is this just going to be an action piece? (Nothing wrong with that; just need a different mindset,)

From the applications of child soldiers - To Shoot-

-Why?

It’s- Nice-

-Droids

Plo-

General-

Ev-

Neat-

Good-

Whelp-

Grab ‘em to the medic And Go!

(Seriously Windu figured this out yesterday.)

Grunts

You’d think the Jedi would give the order?

Seriously, Good miss, Five Min- Got Some One- Killed

“ Asoka,”

First Asoka mention in the first five minutes

[maybe they got her character better.]

-Jungle

You sent- A child

That Logically can’t improvise ... Into a jungle

....

The

Fuck

Skywalker?

Con-tact Her - Dead - She’s very likely dead- - Anyway - Hope Anakin taught her those moves- - That’s a lot of emotion - In the movements; Again;

Monotonous, Stunted, Robo Tot -ic

That’s How Child-

Nope-

Tone’s Off

So, just to go over;

1. Tone ❌ 2. Dia- Log Ue- (?)

3. Move -ment ❌

I’m hop-

Extract-

Taught-

Okay-

Teach -ing s

Aight Mary Sue-

I’m sorry but the light is literally coming out!

Whelp-

Okay-

So it’s Ahsoka an adult yet?

Like that can be explained away as acco-untability

Otherwise, she should have a hard time with one Droid!

(No wait didn’t Obi-Wan just call her ‘young one ‘)?

Nope!

Movie, get over there in your shame corner

That- Was painful over- reacting

And Focus-

I Don’t - You couldn’t have forced it more if you tried -

The Force- d cha- nge i -n Perspective Not Apprec -iate D- . . . . Moving on

Whelp ...

Get In -

That’s a direct order- -

“Can’t-”

Nope!

That’s It-

Tone ❌

Dialogue; ❌,?

Move; ❌ Ment

Turn in your bad

writing card,

Movie

❌

(Not a series strike, Just A “Fuck You, Strike

On the Movie And, This Chara -cter

(We just had such a good-

Maybe; it gets better?

Skipped ahead; It doesn’t

Sigh-

*Puts on earmuffs

Meta-phorically

Aight Back To 19:06 (Original time stamp; Play

*Think

Friendly Fire-

Nvm

*Thing Ex-plodes

In- stantly

Whelp-

You called her before a council ??

Child -ren Can’t Think -

Okay

Movie

Children can’t think-

From ag-

“This is-”.

It should be

-But The writers - refuse to write her as child -

The Pro-

“I-

The Pro- Blem As the story seems to be placing the Jedi on a high pedestal

..... Their actions here as reasonable

..... But it’s not ... If Ahsoka was a child it would be a cruel use of power showing how used only to put the younger generation down before they’re old enough to understand it

And how they’ve given Anakin the illusion of power

-Boomer Bait

If she’s an adult; This would be a show of how she’s childified by her peers

As it stands;

The writers refuse to chose

Concerning, due to the fact that

Child-ify Ing An Adult ...... Is Wrong

And adult-ify ing a child is wrong ...

Un equivocally,

Tally Of How Many Times Ahsoka- Is Adult -ify Ied- ;

This is necessary

[Excuse for odd formatting The “Movie”, (Under the picture) Caused Tumblr To heck up my spacing)

Continuing on;

“Time away from the battle- field,”

Good, For A Child Solider - (And would’ve been a good show that any kind -ness from them is performative ...

“Guard duty,”

Tally Of How Many Times Ahsoka- Is Adult -ify Ied- 1

Cite; Child ren Don’t have that much emotion, Nor Pre- fer ence- -

“Longer now,”

Dick —- Kinda

It’s better for children not to be in battle —

So not a complete dick...

But not optimal...

“Sorry”

So he said by people who don’t wanna take accountability for their actions and just stop doing the thing and stop bringing the toxins into the world

Point; If you were sorry you would stop doing it, stop bringing it up, and do better... —- Trying to control the narrative isn’t nice (When the truth is objective)

Only the self may be both .....

Security -

“Knowledge,”

*Bag-age

“Hm,”

. .. .

...

Fisto

...

In-side

St-upid Forbid Den

Know-ledge

(It’s likely about plants Or Weapons)

Also;

Boomer Bait!

(That’s something they offer younger generations to follow their stupid outdated tradition)

It’s always worse...

(Also, this isn’t about Ahsoka trying to steal the Holocon thing is it?

Because her character is already -hateable- enough

And if she has enough initiative to steal the holocon

- She’s an adult

And should be allowed entrance anyway

“Jedi Council,”

So, lady was a Jedi?

Aight,

Keeping an eye on that ... Aight -

Went through one. drug trip

Already

.....

[Okay...

..Got a Drink of water —— Interrupt -ion

Wait I thought he was just a ball of fuck your plot

You’re telling me he actually works for Palpatine?

After threaten ing Palpatine?

This dude - fucking drug trip -

...Ser vices

I honestly thought he was a [fuck your shit] guy

Now he’s a de tec- tive

Noir ....

Movie that’s too many genres .....

You- need to slow down .

Your main Chara- Isn’t Even Esta- Blish -ed Prop er Ly

Nevermind the characterization

Note if it had been established he changes things every so often that would be neat

As it stands

This dude is a fecking roller coaster

Not any thing resembling good

[Giving your aud- ience a drug trip isn’t good writing]

It makes them dizzy!]

So...

Holocron

Like Palpatine is literally doing this just to fuck over Ahsoka?

Also, this is going to result in Ahsoka being unchild -like To take them out too?

I’ll get the - counter ready

[yes I have seen it literally every Mall cop/ security guard movie ever

The fun . seeing how your (Good) chara cters - interact with the scenario - That’s not happening here - If she was a child this would show how Anakin‘s orders react with the environment

If she’s an adult; We’re working through a checklist; About what we know about her;

Likes, dislikes, how they might come up in a situation...

The suspension... coming when they do

With Ahsoka...

What do we know about her?

Honestly?

We know she likes fighting (Already in enabler of toxic behavior -against other living beings)

We know literally nothing else about her

Except...

That she’s perfect...

Re-moving All Tension;

Deal

I’m surprise he just wasn’t like oh yeah sure,”

[Ditches with the money]

... ..

Oh they’re actually talking strategy

Usually it’s just ‘fuck em’ up And that’s all we ever hear

Er-

Whelp- Yodi’s dead

Alas, Poor Narc

[assuming he can actually sense disorder in the ranks]

Gen. Leader Ship. Tox

He should know he shouldn’t be doing that

Focusing on him self

And practic ing accountability .... Constantly micromanaging and checking in on your peers .. Isn’t going to make them more likely to be accountable..

It’s going to piss them off ...

Your (evident) distrust creating a toxic environment As you were refused to trust their char -acter

You can’t give me respect the guy that was just snooping (Through the whole uni-verse)

That’s the point...

A dis-turbance in the force

Yeah?

Intruders there will be

Okay, bullshit he can see that

Like; Peri-pheral Okay

(Still tox that you don’t expect your peers in a peripheral. to be able to hold accountability)

But this is galaxies away (Ac-tually. on Corousant)

But. He Should n’t Know That-

‘The Narcs pulling authority again, master,”

“Shh, this is what we train- I mean groom - you for!,”

“But You Said,”

(Con-tinuing Earl-ier,)

[Seriously I meant to bring it up earlier,

But are they really inhabiting Zero the hutt’s old hotel]

Like it could just be a Noir hotel

But the positioning and location seem familiar . . .

Tell me...

Who the frick is this? ?

“What you are doing back there?”

... ..

Aight...

Assis -tance

God Lord, He’s Try -ing

Main tenance

If I don’t idea (who this guy was )or what was going on then maybe that would make sense

As it stands, Nope,

Crash- es

What’s that?

....

What?

Seriously. all he did was put another thing into another thing?

???

...

Aww, he actually trusts Bane..

Thank you ...

Door..

Techno Service ... Droid

As in a “tech -nical service droid? (Rt (IT) Tech Guy?

Or a technical assistant (One made of tech)?

(Or one specializing in techno dance moves?)

Also is he supposed to get them in?

Is that thing?

They- didn’t really establish much-

Butler Droid...

Change?

Todo... “You are what I say you are,”

Roomba- kicker

Also, having a roommate is just straight up detective fiction...

Like buddy-cop detective but still detective

With noir, Which is supposed to be focused on independence Dis(trust) in society Which is admittedly (toxic)

Or seems to be

Those two themes...

Directly contra- dictory

[with Griev- ous they made it work, But he wasn’t this - ]

“Uh,”

You are not “The Doctor,” - [that work ed as manif- estation Of Greiv- Ous’s Toxic Be- Hav -ior- And Human Want For Com- Pan Ion- Ship - Or At Least- Vul- Ner- Aba- ili Ty- - This Guy - So far he’s a n(e)igh invulnerable Douche Bag - With No -thing Humane- - Not quite Ahsoka levels - Intend -ed To be an adult - Just- - Really needing to go ham - On the arrogance And inhumanity (He sold his soul for money- But makes it look so good- what he does- Gets a sick kinda enjoyment from it,”)

That’s how you have, to pull it off

As it stands; there’s no emotion with this character

Is the robot supposed to be like his morality pet?

But he’s a dick to him too

Really he gets nothing from me

How do even in the “I-don’t-feel-anything-I’m-so-edgy-and-cool look at me!’

Vibes

There’s nothing fun...

Yeah you can throw all the ...clichés you want in there

[But that doesn’t work if you don’t use them properly]

[I see the team up with a female bounty -hunter]

[Predictable “I work Alone...] The only thing those stories share

In minute]

But ‘once the effect of’ ‘wow that’s a lot of things. Has worn off

The story and character left heartless

“Non-of- your Bus- iness,”

Doesn’t have the cockiness to make it work

[this isn’t power- Ful-]

Down right ..cringe

As it tries to shove shove two genres.. . At least... That don’t Quite .work ...

Least not the way they’re trying to make them work

.....

..Today

It’s noir

The point is no one’s in a good mood.. ...

Aight,

Wasn’t that-

Also, shouldn’t he know-

Based on how open- She is- To un- veiling her mask..

- -

Robot

So sh- ouldn’t she ask the robot to leave the room?

(If it’s such a big deal to her?”)

He can just run their face through a face scan no?

Mid-rim

I thought he didn’t have a way in? [That’s a pretty pathetic way in.. .]

[Palpatine’s screwing with him]

[Giv -ing Him a hard time and satis -iating - The ab- omin- ations desire for blood🎵,

Two birds, one stone,

Also, Movie, That’s the wrong amount of planning for the wrong genre - We don’t care how the bank ro -bbers Art -thieves

Got There

This isn’t Heist - [Money Heist, Not Terr- Esc] Got It Wrong [Pre dict- The Plot-] Last Time. -

The Focus isn’t Character building- - it’s the ‘out of depth characters reaction to the scenario,’

And the wacky hijinks that ensue

Using their talents...

Contrast- ed against the environment (Mall cop example]

Which seems to be the best fit

Stealing the- Holocron- - WHAT WAS THE PURPOSE-

Well- At least they ack -now-ledged Planning really isn’t part of the subset,

Good (For them?)

Aight Impossible ...

What are the emotions?

[like they literally. just through in the “the only place...”

Why..?

So quick rehash (Sorry but I can feel the drug trip coming through,)

(Effects- Of Dealing- With (bad) excess character;

(Deserts Metal...)

[Refresh]

He has a map of the Jedi temple Chip (Oh so that’s what that- (Isn’t he still-)

[Changlin’]

Aight

Bog

[Refresh End]

[Voice acting?

[Mouth sync]

... .. Aight

In Tru-

Maybe take the teen- off guard duty

A thought

[but-seriously

No high Alert?

Only these two..?

Info- -Mation

Baggage

Seriously money would be a better option

Or just street cred

(Adult) humans, Aren’t that Liniar...

Any way...

East Tower ....

Well that’s better than some dusty old books - Holos

(Seriously at least that’s present baggage.)

Whelp

Nobody notices this bullshit!

On a supposedly secure a military base .... ...

Also in the Mid- day break fecking daylight! (With the hiest it made sense, That was a hostage political situation Meant to draw in a huge crowd;

How?

Cool Alright,

Hey isn’t she supposed to be standing still?

(Guard)

Doing patrols?

Like no emotion, Face Forward, Professiona -lism

Not Greeter

(Didn’t they literally call it guard duty?)

Like just say you’re sending her to library service...

Assis -tance

Again, Wrong Field...

They’d be talking to the library helper (Official) Con-

Bother

Not how a child reacts Tally Of How Many Times Ahsoka- Is Adult -ify Ied- 2/3

Cite; Asoka shows intentional over involvement instincts more befitting of an adult ....

Good

Fully understand able reaction (Kinda)

(Don’t yell at children)

Don’t over involve yourself in the future ....

(But if you’re an over- involv ed and (un-)childlike abomination (Getting shoved for this is likely going to happen)

Dude was actually nicer than an adult

Enabler

(Rule Of Excess Society; While excess verbalization is ex- pected, Getting in someone’s way (non-sport Ing-) (Or con -ferr ed-) U-pon

Is not, Attemp ting to move them away the customary five times is expected)

Aight,

So the librarian was right there as she harassed her client)

(Not saying; But you should get involved in tox that doesn’t involve you)

Just don’t think that would excuse Her from ire

“I can’t do anything right,”

Tally Of How Many Times Ahsoka- Is Adult -ify Ied- 3/4

Cite; Child -ren Aren’t aware of self Ahsoka would repeat a line blank -ly

“Likely ‘sorry’

Then back away

[Or the or dered rea ction-)

Aight

Whelp

Yes

Just at the librarian be the pro tag

(She’s Tox But.. . Less Tox.. ...

But Still..

[Make [Better] Pro-ta g Than Ahsoka ]

In.. ...

That’s a library computer..

You need a pass- word. - The robot-

How?

What?

Weak Point?

You know for Boomer bait They mis-construe How the library works a lot

[I know -Hav- Ing Dealt-]

Talk-ing in the library,

Is pretty off

Like there’s a reason people are encouraged to go into the hallway to take phone calls

Loud

These are the guys that value meditation

Dude. Would be shushed By Several irate Jedi ...

Told to take it outside ... ...

I-

[I feel bad For the Roomba]

[like dude, gaslights him and then takes his memory]

Like, Adults Out of it. ...

But ...Droids

[we don’t know much about the sentient ones Or how much senti ence]

But this whole scene...

Makes me feel dirty

Like; it’s played for humor

When; it should be played to how much a bastard this guy is

Screw- ing with anything-

Like That ...

Toxic ...

Sick..

How?

Aight..

What. .

Re- Cyc

Why? ... ..

Kenobi

Jump-ing coincidence

[i’m con -clusion]

Damn, the narc

[No one tell him anything]

[Might fake a heart attack]

Comm.

[How half assed is Yoda’s peripheral?]

Venti -lation

-That’s Smart-

Almost -Too -Smart-

👍

-Tower

High Alert

Place the Temple -

Wasn’t, already?

Left it undone

Way to go smart guy - Cool - But kinda pointless..

Aight- Never mind

I- Might’ve Been Wrong-

Al right

[Seriously, no one hears this?]

[In most heist movies they at least had the intelli- gence-

[No hate -villains can be stupid]

Do you some small well re-lativel unknown library

[or at least not the one at the place they were robbing]

Because everyone would recognize that the actions occurring match up to what he’s describing And the description Of their building.]

Aight

Neat-

Past

Whelp-

Aight-

Shred- (Un-acc Oun T-able)

K-Pop

Well that’s a name...

Whelp..

Cool.. ..

Bane ...

Whole.. temple

And I heard you very obviously plotting...

So... you’re getting kicked

Also he could be possibly looking up intruders plans.. ...

Like pretty one dimensional opinion of on ‘High Alert’, lady

[Especially for a librarian.]

Thank you

Whelp...

There went my expectations

Also, Every Jedi leaving the library didn’t notice that that shit?

Like, they didn’t have guard’s ready to apprehend him

...On the Other Side?

Okay...

You just moved her...

Do you know this could’ve been an episode with a lot of emotional depth Showing how terrifying adults that abuse children can be adults that swear to have their interest in heart And how overinvolvement Is harmful regardless of who it’s coming from (Neglect- of child- And - accoun tability) Working off the “blank line”, ‘I can’t do anything right,’ And the Jedi -Council’s treatment of her “Foreshadow -Ing,” (I use that word loosely)

Their down- fall

Instead we got this-

And he just abandons the computer-

Aight, Just contin -ued on - with -out his instruction

Despite see-ing how bad that went. Al-right

Okay-

Aight

Really?

Without instructions?

Calls friend

You were fine without him the last few seconds .....

“Give-”

Not gonna question that?

“Voice-”

She’s a changling..

“Now,”

Hidden

You’re in a vent?

Oh, Skywalker has immediate intuition ...

And a breech didn’t somehow sound off alarms

Yeah. . Good..thing you didn’t close up the thing ..

Whelp..

How?

Okay. .

Shame.. they didn’t get a hold of a force sensitive kid (I- don’t want it to happen)

Just-

.. .

.. Here

Hurry I can Hear.. . Bull- Shit .

You have rocket boots they have the force

You shouldn’t hear shit-

Sur-prisingly, No Ahsoka

Good

The lower the counter stays..

The better for humanity

[and my brain]

[Vent]

Seriously, you didn’t tell your partner? About the Jedi on High Alert?

Ser- Force-

How deep is that thing?

[Aight, Pat-

You’re telling me they still haven’t figured out the Holocron?

We only saw-

Shouldn’t one of you go one way and the other go the other?

To cover more ground?

They’re- Really putting a lot of faith-

In the Comms

Also shouldn’t there be more Jedi crawling over the place?

Seriously, it’s just these two?

[We know Plo isn’t doing anything important.]

[We saw him near the opening?]

And Kid Fisto..

Heck... Is everybody else doing?

A-ight

“Closer,”

Shouldn’t it be ..further

Archive.. [Library] Comms?

Got it-

Whelp..

Okay..

Not, putting up that door,

What are you smiling about?

There’s plenty of lasers

And you don’t even know where the thing you’re looking for is

(Inside the compartment)

....

Aight

Might- not have been a smile-

Look for the open vent

(Dude clum- Un- Acc ountable)

With Vents

Also look at all these assholes standing around doing nothing

Also, no one’s going to check up on the child

Like, Ahsoka surely got that message right?

Temple-

Deep in the temple-

Use-less

...

‘Cause you’re idiots who don’t check for open vents Or cover more ground?

Or...

[Get, anyone to help you, in this big ass vent,”

It’s not very hard to see why.. .

Ass -itance

Ahsoka’s, not gonna get blamed for this is she?

Won-

Yeah, the narcs pretty useless

Also, why can’t you have the dude just shut off those lasers like he did the rest?

Done

Oh, they address it

Good,

Yep,

How?

But...

Okay...

...

Okay

....

What’re you still doing ...

Okay,

What’re you doing?

[Is the Holocron seriously right there?]

That’s. lucky

Weirder and Wei-rder

Hey isn’t your personality over-written?

By the chip?

Aight

S-eriously?

Still Here?

On- alert-?

Coin- cidence? !

Augh

Is that’s seriously the alert?

Several minutes-

No wonder those guys were so late...

...

Sense De- Cep Tion

Po- S-ing As A Jedi.

Okay now Yoda’s just reading the death report

Jo-casta

What?

But that’s actually a good idea - If shits about to go down you might as well find the person who might hold them accountable instead of letting you get the shit beat out

Run-

Serious-ly shouldn’t she just shout out her name?

[Like I know - High Alert- But Ahsoka isn’t going to be much use against a Adult... Either way Might as well find her [and scare off the intruder-]

Also how come “innocence” doesn’t get the same notification

Did they forget his wristwatch?

[Like- seems important-]

Who are you?

Dang It?

You were supposed to report back!

Also no one heard any of this before

Also; are you going to tell me that AHSOKA, the child soldier, Is going to beat this guy When the fully trained elderly Jedi got her ass kicked?

Nah.. .

“You,”

Dead

Tally Of How Many Times Ahsoka- Is Adult -ify Ied- 4/5

-Un-orthodox show of initiative 1x

-Counter 1x

- Surviving this 1x

(4x)

Getting her on the run!

Tot; 7/8

-Surviv-ing;

- 1x - 1x

-1x

-1x -1x

-1x

-2x (I’m tired of counting them one by one-)

-2x

- 2x

Okay

Whelp

Aight

-Right

Shape

-Skill

-Ew

Whelp

Okay-

Where did your get your skills from?

Abomination?

Aw-

Todo-

-Yet

What-ever

Butler

Tech

Neither of which have anything to do with ironing doors open ....

.... There he goes

Sy-mpathesize- more with him than this douche bag even if his turn does make a little sense

Aight.

Whelp

Finally found that vent.. .

Right

No, he wasn’t

“Comms,”

Not Holo- Cron

.....

Completely un-realistically

Tally Of How Many Times Ahsoka- Is Adult -ify Ied- 28/29 And 1/2

(1/2 because referring to the action what respectively doesn’t count as a whole- sin- It does deserve note that you decided to repeat your bad writing-)

Jedi

She Says-

(Un Be Li Ev Able)

Holo -cron

Jedi To Open It ..

Okay,

Up- To-

Again, with the communication center-!

Dude, just wanted a Holo-cron

(Seriously that was very tortured logic, Think the writers; just wrote this scene Then realize but wait “why are they in the Holocron/ Comm Cent,?”

And that’s how Anakin/Obi-Wan Obsession with the com center began...

[sorry but there was no reason for them to be in the Com center!

That I’ve heard!]

Aight, What? What -ever

... ..

Wrong-

Yes

Com- Center-

Ser-iously even he doesn’t know what’s up

You heard me

And my stupid plan

To send you to the Coms center to justify Obi-wan’s obsession-

Craw- ling

And we have no reason to-o

Why?

Now!

Yelling- doesn’t mistake the clear lack of reason

What- ever-

Right

That’s one way to do it

Really

Also, how does -that not-

That was less than one minute

Also, but no one else will hear that but these two . .

And they’ll still progress to the comm center ...

“It came from the com center,!”

How!?

You, guys,

Comms, Archives,

Aight, Nice

Com-munication center-

Ha- ha- ha- (I’m sorry but that has come back around to kinda funny,”

[something Happens across the galaxy]

Obi-won; It was the com’s center

—-

Aight, right,

...

O-kay

...

How??

Where?

Okay ...

Cloak Ing?

What?

[you can’t defy the rules of logic that much (Physics) You need to explain where he went otherwise it’s a loony tune Of sus- pen sion-

Okay?

What??

I thought- the thing-

....

O-kay

right

Take it,

Which ,One

That-

Right

What- Ever-

Aight-

He knews

What- Ever

Don’t call your eggs

Move

Restraint

Whelp

Use-less

Just There

Whelp

Nope-

Okay-

He Try

[Hey guys,]

Off That’s some assumed authority over familiarity..

Aight..

Okay,

They’re really letting him get away with the story

Tries-

What?!

-When-

Bomb-

Both-

[Also Mace Windu is still the only semi-efficient Jedi...

Asshole !

(Can’t make the text bigger enough to display my outrage!)

[they played that off as humor!]

That was a scream of death!

Of Murder!

[if that was a sentient- And my God it seemed damn close! Dude was just murdered

The surprise- “ I didn’t see it coming, h onestly not his fault kind!”

One that would call for immediate robotic vengeance!

* im-mediate ac-countability

If sentient,

What the Hell?!

That-

Horror - fy- Ing-

Oof

“Was it sentient? Crud, I might lose my least toxic credentials

( )

Whelp

How?

No Way-

A-ight

Shit

-shit

- she did nothing

I-

Call Sec-

Whose that?

Whelp

Okay..

That Who

Dys- functional family road trip - War

No shit

Oh wait at the comment table was by all the other Jedi

So...

the whole time Obi-wan was just complaining he didn’t want to do the job

Skywalker agreeing with him...

And... wanting to ditch their post

In chara,

Just, a little bit funny when you think about it

Right,

You bought them all the way here?

...

Also look isn’t the unchild-like abomination adorable when she’s talking about punishing people more severely

Holo-cron

The heck is a holocron...

Wait-

What-

Why-

How-

Why is this being allowed to happen? -

...

Snitch

[like seriously how is it helping her case, whatsoever?

Plea Bar-gin

Aight,

Okay

That was just a completely random target on his list...

- -

The one accountable adult

Keeper Kydra Crystal-

- Holocrons

Data

You get out of here youngling

Force Sensitive Child ?

Are we really going to get into the powers eugenics? (Or power genetic superiority)

Also would it be a kin to basically every child or just any child destined for leader ship

(Like gen leader ship?)

Cause..

Also, yeah good idea keeping that around

And you named...

...

Young’lings

Future

Oy! You put that back where, it came from so help me

Future

vision

is cheating

In reality, if you did have that power, you should keep your mouth shut

And it completely negates the point of a choice based universe

(Takes all the risk out of it)

Making the story completely useless

(For the sake of tension I’m going to ignore that..)

Going on the assumption...

That’s the Jedi are just a bunch of narcs

Who like claiming they know the future

When in reality only the future knows the future...

Worn. Them

Oh so it’s just School roll call...

Contact

You must

Ya no dude’s already a headstart...

Ahsoka

Dude, he just override the punishment

Does he have the authority to do that?

[I don’t think so]

Cad bane

He probably isn’t

And you already know him From the previous episode

Good for Obi-won

Aight

Mace Windu don’t give a fuck

Kid Fisto disappeared

And. . Luminara(?)

Went to go get a snack.... ?

I don’t know

Yoda

Got Overruled

Aight, Okay

.....

This episode...

Makes me feel disgusting Watching The middle At least

It’s very clearly boomer bait...

The beginning...

Focus-ing on the importance of taking orders (With no sarcasm to my understanding,)

Progressing, Into,

Dah, de, dah, Generation ____ doesn’t understand books!

*We might if they got out of our way, let us do our thing, dis-covered and pract-iced excess, on our volition

*if we wanted to

Honestly convinced. I should’ve given them a strike right there

Out of

Malicious

Won’t (Out of restraint)

But a thought none- the-

less

Being a (toxic) Boomers Fantasy in which they, the all powerful all knowing adults must help poor Ig- nor -ant (Child)-

(I’m sorry this really disgusts me)

-with enough initiative To praise their Brilliance

(It’s re-ally di-sgusting)

This isn’t seen as an overreach Or con- Des-cion Of A Gen

And gives no in-dication it recognizes how creepy what it’s doing is

Apart from the lighting in the council room

*Which I’m now convinced is permanently broken

And continues with the assum-ption of a life-time Over the future

Breaking; the story pretty thoroughly

And announcing the return to mediocrity...

(Border -ing on attempt at lower standards)

(Also they playoff the death of a semi-sentient species For Humor?

He died screaming!

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penguinwithitsarseonfire · 3 years

Text

Alright, I think I'm gonna call it and log off for the day!

I had so much fun doing this, the speedwriting has really kicked my creativity in gear, I've taken down some notes from ideas I've gotten from workshopping some of my fics, and I've definitely tried some new stuff today (pointed look at the Clara fic, I still can't BELIEVE I wrote something that wasn't for the Doctor, this feels like character growth).

Today was a bit busy for me, I didn't anticipate how much house work and errands my fam wanted me to do today (they, apparently, had their owns plans for me once they found out uni was finished), so I didn't get as much writing done as I was hoping for.

If I didn't get to your prompt I'm so sorry! I really liked all of them, y'all are so creative omg. I've kept them all saved, and I'll go through them next Sunday should they spark something.

Speaking of next weekend, I've already got some fine-tuning in mind to make this all more organised. It was a bit of a mess this weekend (as I expected, tbh), so I'll address some of those concerns when Friday rolls 'round.

And to the anon who asked about rules around an hour ago, I'll write some up! I can't believe I didn't think of posting rules in the first place *face-palm*, so thank you for reminding me!

Thank you so much to everyone who got involved!! I hope y'all had as much fun as I did!

#Elle: Speaks #opening Elle's vault #seriously I had so much fun #I can't wait to make this a permanent fixture to my week

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captainofthebrokentides · 4 years

Text

Briefcases and Blood Splatter Chapter 2: Guilty Pleasures and Pool Benny Colon x OC

Thank you everyone who read the first chapter and enjoyed it! it’s always a boost when someone appreciates your work. It makes you work faster to get the next part out!! I hope you all enjoy this one!! let me know! :) 2453 words

The hours had ticked by without Olivia even noticing. The sun was beginning to dip behind the New York skyline, and TAC’s muted windows allowed the little lab to be flooded with a warm orange light. Beeps and whirs came from the temporary machinery, but she paid them no heed, bobbing her head rhythmically along to the music coming through her headphones.

She tapped her pen against the table, her dark eyes searching through the data that her earlier blood and hair analysis tests had provided, hoping to find any new information that had not been in the ‘welcome’ pack she had been given by Marissa.

“Blood-Alcohol level is high. 0.10. High, but not life threatening. Impaired, but not belligerent.” She thought to herself, chewing the cap of her pen, a habit she hadn’t been able to shake since university. “I need to get a test sample of the semen from Alyssa’s body and from the kid. Look and see if there’s blood content mixed in it, or any hallucinogen or toxin.”

She was so involved in the paperwork and her thoughts she hadn’t realised she had company, until he was standing beside her. That delicious smell of sandalwood, leather and citrus engulfed her nose, and she inhaled it happily, closing her eyes for a brief second to savour it.

Benny gently touched her shoulder to get her attention. She looked up at him, and saw his lips moving, but her music drowned out his words. She quickly removed her headphones and smiled up at him apologetically.

“Hey Benny, sorry, I was involved in …”

“The Lion King?” he cut her off with a smirk before she could finish her sentence.

The expression on his face made her mouth dry. Olivia had never been one to get all giggly and shy around men. Even the ones she found attractive. That was her friend Dawn, she normally stayed cool and collected, but there was something about Benny that had struck a cord from the moment the pair of them had made eye contact. It had been completely solidified when Cable and Danny had dropped in to introduce themselves and encouraged her to join them in peeking down into mock court. He oozed confidence while he paced back and forth in front of the jury. He was confident, but not arrogant. His voice full of heat, passion and strength. Olivia was sure she’d never seen someone put so much heart and soul into something that was essentially just an act. He had looked up towards the end of his closing argument and caught her eye. Without missing a beat he’d shot her a dashing smile and a subtle wink.

And in that moment Olivia knew she’d have to keep her wits about her around the lawyer, or she’d become one of those giggly girls she never thought she’d be.

“Sorry?” she said, furrowing her brow in confusion.

“Your headphones, I distinctly heard the opening beats to ‘I just can’t wait to be king’”

Olivia fought the blush that threatened to spider it’s way up her cheeks. She let out a slightly strained laugh instead. “You caught me.” She joked good naturedly “Everywhere I look in my job there’s doom and gloom. Its nice to listen to something light hearted, you know.” She wasn’t sure why she was explaining herself to him, the words just bubbled out of her throat. “So much death, and it’s always blood readings this, urinalysis that, I’m normally up to my elbows is some form of body fluid – and at home, if I’m in the morgue the people I’m working on don’t mind because you know, they’re dead …”

Benny said nothing, but listened to her talk with big smile on his face, showcasing his perfectly straight pearly whites and showing off his boyish dimples. His eyes were alight with amusement, but with no malice.

“I should really shut up, shouldn’t I? Because now I’m babbling at you, and you obviously came in here to ask me something, before I started waffling at you about the merits of Disney soundtracks.” She sighed and bit her lip. She put her pen down and flattened her hands out on the table to mentally and physically ground herself. “I’ll try again. What can I do for you, Benny?”

The lawyer shook his head and laughed. It was a deep, smooth sound that Olivia had instantly come to adore, and she hadn’t spent that long in his company so far. ‘this man is going to be the death of me … but I think I could live with it.’ He gently placed a reassuring hand on top of hers, his fingers curling under her palms and giving the appendage a gentle squeeze.

“If I didn’t already like Disney, you’d have made me a convert.” His deep velvety tones were laced with humour.

“You’re a Disney fan?” the words and their surprised tone had slipped from Olivia’s mouth before she realised they had left her brain.

Benny snorted, “Of course.”

“You’re a dark horse aren’t you? Is the brooding, serious lawyer mask hiding more guilty pleasures?” and now she was flirting. Olivia could barely believe herself. But Benny didn’t seem to have a problem with it, although an intensity took over his dark eyes as he regarded her.

“There’s so much more to me than that, Miss Byrne. I’ll be happy to show you sometime.”

She was sure her ears weren’t deceiving her … was he … flirting back?

She bit her lip again and felt the blush course up her cheeks, unhindered this time. She swore he shifted his weight towards her, closing the gap between them a little more.

The temporary lab door swung open and Marissa wandered in, her head buried in a manilla TAC folder, as usual. Olivia was beginning to realise that was Marissa’s default during the planning stages of a case. Benny almost jumped, as if coming to his senses, and shuffled back to put a bit more space between them. Liv lamented the loss of his warmth by her side.

“Any luck with the blood and hair Liv?” Marissa asked looking up from her folder with a warm smile. She looked at Benny a little shocked. “Oh Benny …”

“I came to ask Olivia here if she’d like to join us at the bar for drinks tonight. Sort of a welcome thing.” He explained deftly. Olivia noted he’d left out any mention of Disney, or what they were really discussing when Marissa had interrupted.

Marissa nodded emphatically, “You should, it’ll be good to get to know you, and you us, a little better.”

Olivia chewed on her bottom lip. It had been a long day, and she’d not yet managed to return to her hotel and unpack her things, but she supposed one drink wouldn’t hurt. She did want to get to know them all, after all. “I really shouldn’t, as I’ve not even unpacked yet. But I want to keep that jet lag at bay. Gotta get myself properly in your time zone. I’ll come for one.”

Marissa grinned happily, and Benny nodded at her, still regarding her with that hot, intense gaze.

“One it is! There will be plenty more times. We’re only just getting started.” The blonde said. “But back to why I’m here. Any luck with the blood and hair?”

Olivia opened her own file and pointed to her results with her pen as she spoke, both Benny and Marissa looking over her shoulders.

“Not much more than you already had. I’ve got the tox and alcohol levels all rated and labelled for you. Is there any way I can get access to the body? I know an autopsy has already been performed, but I’d like to see a few things for myself.”

Marissa nodded, making some notes in her own file. “I will do my best, is there anything else I can do for you?”

Olivia busied herself closing up her notes and packing up her desk. “Yes, I need some semen.”

Benny made an audible choking noise. She glanced at him out the corner of her eye. It was her turn to smirk.

“Semen?” Marissa repeated, checking she was clear.

“Yep, a sample from the girl’s body and a living sample from Brandon so I can compare counts and check for abnormalities … ooh and if you can, a sample of what was on Brandon’s clothing for the night in question. In my experience, teenage boys aren’t exactly brilliantly skilled with their target practice, so it shouldn’t be too hard.”

She could see Benny’s shoulders moving as he chuckled under his breath.

“ok … I’m not sure how I’ll broach that subject, but I’ll do what I can. This could get awkward.”

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve got the easy bit this end.” Olivia shrugged apologetically.

“No problem, I’ll get this logged. See you at the bar.”

Benny gave Marissa a minute to exit before he turned to her with a devilish grin. “In your experience, huh?”

She laughed and lightly slapped his arm. She was very pleased to feel the hard sinew of bulging muscle beneath the finely tailored cloth he wore.

“Get your head out the gutter, I’m probably old enough to be his mum.”

“Probably more like a disapproving aunt.” He held his arm out to her like a gentleman when she threw her handbag over her shoulder. “Shall we?”

She willingly accepted his crooked elbow, and let him lead her from the room. “I used to work in a all boys boarding school while I was putting myself through uni. Trust me, there are a few things I wish I could unsee.”

***

“… And a passionfruit daquiri for our newest member of the family. We’re glad you’re here.” Chunk placed the glass of frosted cocktail down in front of her.

Olivia found herself seated around a large round table, sandwiched between Chunk and Cable, with Marissa and Danny opposite them. They were all laughing, joking and learning things about each other, but she always found her eyes straying to the pool table nearby, where Benny and Bull were in the middle of a heated game.

Benny was currently leaning against the bar, with his pool cue tucked safely behind one leg. He had discarded his suit jacket, waistcoat and tie. The collar of his light blue shirt open by a few buttons and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows. The fabric did a wonderful job of showing off his muscles. He was laughing and baiting Bull, nursing what was left of his scotch. Occasionally his eyes would flicker up and meet hers, and he would smile, a soft smile.

“So where did you say you trained in medicine?” Danny asked jovially, catching Olivia’s attention.

“Oh, Southampton, it’s not a big city or a prestigious university, but it was homely.”

“Southampton …” Chunk tapped his fingers on the table in thought, “Where the Titanic sailed from?”

Olivia nodded, taking a mouthful of her drink and sighing, it was just what she needed, “That’s the place.”

“I’ve only ever seen London, I’d like to go back and travel around, see Cornwall and places like that, I hear they’re beautiful.” Marissa said dreamily.

“Cornwall is gorgeous, have you ever had a proper British cream tea?”

“Shhhh, don’t mention food, Benny has the hearing of a bat when it comes to food.” Danny laughed. Olivia too giggled and watched the subject of their conversation through her eyelashes. He was leaning over the pool table, lining his cue up to take a shot. She tried not to openly ogle his ass too much, she’d barely been in their company a day, she didn’t want a reputation, but she had to admit, it was hard.

“Seriously, I’ve never seen someone eat like he does. I’m surprised he’s not fat.” Chunk held his hands up.

“And he’s like a child if he gets hungry, so if he is, I’d make a break for it Liv, save yourself!!” Cable laughed and made a dramatic hand gesture.

“I’m sure I can handle him.” She laughed too. “I’ll bring you all some if I get a chance to make some scones.”

There was a loud pop as the final ball of the pool game was potted, and Bull whooped in victory. “And that my friend is why you need to keep your head in the game.” He sounded smug, and Benny slumped onto his bar stool in defeat, rubbing the back of his neck.

“How about you, new girl, play pool much?” Bull asked her, looking at her over the top of his glasses.

Liv shook her head. “Not really, a couple of times at uni, and when I was young.”

“Come play the next game with me, I promise I wont clean out your wallet unlike Benny here.”

Everyone was watching her to gauge her reaction, it was Bull’s way of testing her mettle in a friendly manner, to see if she fit in with his little ‘family’.

“I don’t play much, I might need a few pointers.” She excused herself from the group and joined the two men at the pool table, she was determined to show Bull that she could hold her own.

“I’ll help you.” Benny said smoothly, finishing his drink and letting his eyes linger on her with that burning intensity.

“Thank you, Benny.” She said sweetly, taking the cue from his outstretched hand. Their fingers brushed against each other and Liv felt her tummy jingle with butterflies.

“My pleasure.” It was almost a hungry growl, gravelly, low and almost erotic.

“And I will enjoy beating you both.” Bull said loudly destroying the moment between them.

“Take him down a peg, Liv!” cheered Chunk and Cable.

Olivia grinned and gave them a thumbs up.

“Your break” Bull said lining up the balls in their starter positions.

“Ok, so if you line up your cue here …” Benny placed one hand on the table where he was indicating and used his other to guide her to the table, his touch warm and secure on the bottom of her back.

She lined the cue up against his hand and looked down the shaft of wood. “Like this?”

“Mhmm, but a little closer, and lower … like this …” Benny encircled her body with his arms, his chin resting on her shoulder, so he could see. He was warm against her back, and Olivia couldn’t help the big, goofy grin on her face at the contact.

Across the other side of the table Bull smirked, satisfied with himself as he watched the pair of them. He looked at Marissa, who shook her head with a resigned smile.

@reelovesbennycolon

#benny colon x reader #benny colon x oc #benny colon #bull #bull2016 #jason bull #fanfic #imagines #benny colon imagines #freddy rodriguez

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tsarisfanfiction · 4 years

Text

Crossing (Tales From The Heart)

Fandom: One Piece Rating: Gen Warnings: None Characters: Clione, Law, Bepo, Penguin, Shachi, Heart Pirates

"So how are we getting away from here?" Clione wondered as he finished bolting down the repairs to the Tang's roof. It needed more work before he'd confidently call it watertight but Law had decreed that it was time to go, and that they could finish those repairs on their way back to the Grand Line.

"We're sailing," Bepo told him, as if he was stupid. Well, obviously they would be going by water, but… the Sea Kings?

"Are the Kuja going to guide us back?" he asked hopefully, glancing over at the remains of the Sea King Rayleigh had battled on his way in.

"I doubt it," Shachi sighed wistfully, appearing in the doorway having evidently finished the engine checks Bepo had asked him to do – after all, there was no wind in the Calm Belt so if their engines failed on them, they really would be Sea King snacks. "Such a shame…"

Clione couldn't help but agree as he glanced over at the torn barrier depicting where Mugiwara had crossed into forbidden territory every warm-blooded male on their ship would have killed to enter, if killing would have been enough to gain entry.

"Well, they only sheltered us because of Mugiwara," Penguin pointed out, as despondent as the rest of them as he slung a commiserating arm around Shachi's shoulders. "They don't care about us at all."

"That doesn't mean we know how we're getting back," Clione pointed out. "Do we even know the way?" He immediately realised that he'd made a mistake as three pairs of eyes turned to look at him disapprovingly.

"Of course we know the way," Bepo exclaimed. "All those female humans have put fur in your brains!" Penguin and Shachi reached out to lightly cuff him around the head and he mumbled an apology to their affronted navigator, who huffed.

"That aside," Shachi muttered, "why is Captain so confident we'll get through in one piece? We're not like Rayleigh. Isn't this basically suicide?"

"Why are you grumbling?" Law asked, coming up behind them. They jumped, having thought he was still talking about things with Rayleigh.

"Don't do that, Captain!" they groused in unison, turning to face him. He smirked as he leant against the yellow external wall of the submarine's main cabin, glancing up at the patchwork repairs.

"Everything ready for us to leave?" Law inquired, ignoring their complaints. "We should be gone before Mugiwara-ya gets back." Clione suspected he didn't want to see what damage the other captain had invariably done to his injuries, and was no longer in a charitable mood towards him after the mess the rubber man had made of his infirmary.

He hadn't raised his voice, but it was the cue for the entire crew to gather in front of him, taking advantage of the fact that they were still docked to have an entire crew meeting while no-one was forced to keep an eye on their bearings.

"Bepo."

"Aye!" the Mink began, standing straight and dwarfing most of the crew in the process, the gigantic Jean Bart sitting down but still taller than the rest of them. "From here we need to bear that way-" he pointed in a direction that made no sense to anyone else, but that was Bepo's job anyway. "Our Log Pose is pretty useless now, thanks to Amazon Lily, so if we follow that we'll just end up spending another month or so in the Calm Belt before the magnetic route spits us out, and there's no guarantee it'll lead us back to the Grand Line rather than East Blue."

"But is crossing the Calm Belt at all possible without the Kuja?" Uni asked, to the agreement of many of the crew, Clione included.

"With the right ship, it's possible," Bepo told them all confidently. "It's how I got here from Zou."

"And the Tang is 'the right ship'?" Clione asked, frowning. "How? A submarine isn't going to save us from the Sea Kings."

"Of course not," Law agreed. "We won't be submerging. We'll use the Tang's engine to travel without wind, the same as when we followed the Kuja in."

"And the Sea Kings?" Ikkaku asked. "We can't fight them off the entire way. We're not monsters like the Dark King." Law chuckled.

"Did you know the Marines use the Calm Belt all the time?" he asked. Most of the crew nodded.

"Something about Vegapunk and kairoseki," Uni commented. "How does that help us?"

"Penguin and Shachi have told you all the story of how we got the Tang several times," their captain pointed out. "Work it out yourselves."

The distant screeching they'd barely registered over the sounds of repairing their ship stopped, meaning that either Mugiwara was dead, or Jimbei had successfully calmed him down and the pair of them would be soon returning to the shoreline, where Rayleigh was sitting with Mugiwara's trademark hat.

"Start the engines," Law ordered, striding over to the edge of the deck, Kikoku clutched firmly in one hand. "We've been here long enough."

Barely reassured, the crew scrambled to do as they were told. The familiar hum started up, and barring Uni – who stayed in the control room to steer – they slowly made their way back to the deck, watching their wake nervously as they headed away from Amazon Lily and the safety of the cove that had been their shelter for the past two weeks.

"Are you positive we'll be okay?" Clione asked, biting back a gulp as he thought he saw a shadow pass below the ship. It was far larger than anything he'd ever seen before that day, and he really hoped it was his imagination. Nothing like that had been anywhere in sight when they'd followed the Kujas.

"Do you want the optimistic answer or the realistic one?" Law asked him. Clione shuddered, muttering about insane captains and their equally insane crews.

"If the Marines can do it, so can we," Shachi grinned, slapping him on the back. Clione lurched forwards slightly, and caught sight of a fin breaking the surface of the water some distance away. It was easily the size of the Tang.

"How?" he asked weakly, trying and failing to not think about how the owner of that fin wouldn't even consider the entire ship a mouthful.

"Kairoseki hulls aren't World Government-exclusive," Penguin pointed out, coming up the other side of him and whistling at the sight of the Sea King, still a safe distance away, although still visible – which was more than they had been when they'd been safely tucked in the Kuja ship's shadow so 'safe' was a relative term at best. "At least, not after we stole one of their precious kairoseki-hull ships eleven years ago."

"The Tang has a kairoseki hull?" Ikkaku asked, echoed by several other crewmates in their confusion. "But Captain-"

"It's only the outer hull," Law told them. "Enough to conceal the ship, but not enough to affect devil fruit users on board. Many Marines have eaten fruits too, remember."

"Well, yeah…" Clione trailed off, still eyeing the shadows in the water dubiously. Despite Law's words, the captain hadn't stopped clenching Kikoku once since they'd entered the waters, and didn't appear inclined to change his stance any time soon.

As he watched two Sea Kings begin to duke it out on the horizon for some unknown reason, he decided that they couldn't get out of those waters and back to the safety of the Grand Line fast enough.

That was probably the first time anyone considered the Grand Line 'safety'.

#one piece #one piece fanfiction #heart pirates #tales from the heart #tsari writes fanfiction #trafalgar law #penguin #shachi #bepo #clione #uni #ikkaku #polar tang

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