#GOD i imagine he goes along with the whole thing at first as a recon mission and then eventually he starts genuinely following along | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

daverygalskisbff · 3 years

Note

could we get some allura & lance friendship prompts? i LOVED your other ones btw 💖💖💖💖

HI I'm sorry this took forever I have honestly no idea why bc I adore these two and I ADORE this prompt so my brain should not have shut down the way it did. anywayz to make up for the wait i tried to make this a bit longer than my usual posts :) I hope you like it!

(also, as usual, everything here I came up with myself, and if there's any similarity to someone elses post I apologise and promise it wasn't intentional)

now without further ado,

Lance and Allura!

similar to lance and pidge, the two are decidedly Not close in the beginning

i had an entire thing about how i imagine they became friends at first written out, but it was a tad too long and i didn't want to clog up the post with too much exposition. so instead, let's just skip forward and get into their dynamic after they become buddies :) (however, if anyone wants to see the backstory I would not be opposed)

although he no longer has a crush on her, lance makes it a point to hype her up as much as he possibly can

at first allura was confused, because she thought it was him trying to flirt with her still, but once she understood what was going on she was more than willing to join in

lance when allura completely destroys the training droid: WOWZA ladies and gentlemen of the jury may I present to you the icon the legend the moment herself her royal highness princess allura of altea!!!!! if you thought that was impressive just WAIT till she gets warmed up because this is just the beginning!!! she can even do it in heels-

shiro: lance, please focus, this is really important that we-

allura: no no, shiro, please. let him finish.

they both show their friendship in slightly different ways. lance's way is that he is physically incapable of not humouring the princess

allura when lance shows her his cartwheel: incredible!!!!!!! i have never been more impressed in my life!!! do you think you could do it in heels??

lance: uhhh. y'know princess I'm really loving the faith, but-

allura: :)?

lance:.... what if you don't have my size?

lance fractured his ankle. allura has yet to stop apologising.

allura's way is definitely safer, but it's also a lot more... cluttered. to say the least.

allura, returning from a recon mission with a tiny bag filled with what looks like tiny, glittery dinosaur figurines made of glass: lance! look at what i bought for you!

lance, taking one look at the contents of the bag: wow, 'lurra, this is… so nice of you

allura: lance, are you. are you crying?

lance (definitely crying): what? NO! of course not!! I'm just. allergic, to. uh. oxygen.

allura: what.

allura never had any siblings back on altea, but she always wanted them

this, paired with how much lance misses his own family, means that the two of them kind of gravitate towards each other in terms of siblinghood.

as a child allura would imagine what it would be like to have siblings, but especially a twin. she would fall asleep to dreams of secret handshakes, finishing each other's sentences, and swapping places to trick people

she doesn't realise the brother she has found in lance until a long time after they've become close (how would she recognise a dynamic she has never been privy to?)

this realisation happens on just a random day in the castleship lounge. she is talking to hunk, when suddenly lance, who she didn't even realise was listening to their conversation, butts in and finishes her sentence.

she's annoyed at being interrupted at first, but then what happened sinks in, and suddenly she's fighting off tears. lance doesn't know why she's crying, but he hugs her anyway.

the two of them match accessories a lot

with allura's love of pretty things (and the abundance of stuff in her closet) paired with lance's natural dramatics, nobody else on the team is entirely sure of whether this is intentional or not.

it started off as intentional. it is now second nature.

one decision, however, was completely planned and thought out for exactly twenty minutes, and then deeply regretted by both parties for the next 48 hours

allura pierced lance's ears

now before you get judgemental, you try making a smart decision at two am space-time while very giddy and slightly buzzing on some weird old alien candy that not even your resident alien is sure the ingredients of. then talk to me.

pidge: okay so you're gonna need a needle, ice, and… yeah I'm pretty sure that's it

lance: don't we need a potato too

pidge: … why the fuck would you need a potato

lance: I dunno!!! my sister pierced her friend's ears one time and she mentioned a potato!!! I'm just trying to make sure everything goes well, pidge!

allura: I love these earth customs you two are showing me!! when I got my ears pierced it was done with some kind of laser, but your way sounds much more fun :).

allura: also, what is a "potato" and where can we find one?

it goes about as well as you would expect

the excited buzz on lance lasts about three ticks into the process, and then the screaming starts

pidge (the genius who came up with the idea) gives him some altean taffy to chew on to stop him from making too much noise, and allura, the angel, is babbling right along with him

allura, with tears in her eyes: how was I supposed to know it was going to hurt mine didn't hurt well it was 10,000 years ago and I was very young altean children don't have very strong pain receptors you know, maybe that's why my parents had it done at that age, or maybe your people are just completely barbaric, who thought this would be a good idea?? pidge why did you suggest this poor lonce is in tears lonce I'm so sorry but if it's any consolation at all at least now your ears won't be nearly as hideous as before and you can borrow as many of my earrings as you want except for the sparkly green ones that dangle those are my favourite well they're actually my second favourite I'm wearing my favourite - you can't borrow those either, by the way, but you can have any of the others I promise

lance, also crying and still chewing the altean taffy: hhb, llura yub domf hoff do bologuys, ss long'ss yub sanstsd thu niddle frst

allura (who did not remember to sanitize the needle), now crying freely: I don't understand what you're saying

(pidge records the entire thing)

the next day lance wakes up with ears that are very sore and slightly green, and allura faints

they spend the entire morning avoiding shiro in case they get in trouble and trying to figure out how to get the healing pods to work

lance: what do you mean you don't know allura you literally lived in one of these

allura: I was asleep the whole time!!! don't put this on me!!

lance: don't put- you are the one that pierced my ears, allura, of course it's on you!

coran, who has been watching this entire interaction in silence: oh, I thought i noticed something different about you, number three!

lance and allura: [screaming]

coran helps them set up the healing pod

unfortunately lance has to take the earrings out, so the holes close back up, but fortunately coran just so happens to know how to pierce ears the correct way that they did on altea

lance, after half a day in the healing pod, watching coran advance upon him with a literal handheld flamethrower that shoots lasers: is it too late to go back to the ear infection

coran is surprisingly very adept at the skill of altean beautification (an activity that has a surprisingly long and rich backstory, which lance and allura get an in-depth lesson on for the hour that it takes to do lance's ears properly)

they're exhausted afterwards, but lance looks great, so they're in good moods regardless

they like to teach each other about things from their respective planets - both for fun, and because it helps them feel less homesick

whenever allura is particularly down about the loss of altea, lance will visit her in her room, and the two of them will just lie together on her bed.

they don't say much, most of the time, just link their pinkies together and stare at the ceiling

when they do talk, it's quiet, and always allura who starts it - she might share something she remembers about altea, and lance listens quietly and then responds with something he misses about cuba

it isn't always sad tho - sometimes they just talk about things they remember that pop into their heads, or explain things to each other that they wouldn't otherwise know

at the space mall, they make a game out of pointing things out to each other and trying to guess what it is (allura can only guess when they're in the earth shop, but it's okay because she more than makes up for it in enthusiasm)

lance, holding a my little pony collectible: okay princess. what is this.

allura, completely serious: a weapon

lance: ... close

allura, holding up a set of magnetic heart necklaces to the light: what does… "biffs" mean?

lance: it's "bffs," princess, it means "best friends forever"

allura: oh! you mean like me and you?

lance:

lance: 'lurra what did we say about making me cry in public, we've talked about this-

(they buy the necklaces. obviously.)

they mess with each other's hair a lot

once allura learns that lance's hair is naturally curly, and that he just straightens it all of the time, she makes it her god-given mission to convince him to wear it naturally more often

this mission includes plans such as stealing his hair straightener, "donating" a bunch of curly hair products to him because she "doesn't have the space", and getting keith to say he thinks curly hair is cool one day in the rec room

she still thinks it's the funniest thing ever that that actually worked

other than week-long sabotage plots, they both think it's fun to have lance braid allura's hair

he used to braid his sister's and niece's hairs all of the time, so he has a knack for it that allura did not expect at all but is obsessed with anyway

allura, coming to lance's room a few hours before another diplomatic party: hey..... how yall doin.....

lance, already prepared with a million different brushes and bands: oh my god just get in already

lance and allura have a lot in common

one of these things, they learn very early into their relationship, is that they are both disasters when it comes to pretty girls (and boys, but that's a lance-exclusive situation)

so they become each other's wingmen

they both tend to get… a little too into it

the team: [at a diplomatic ball]

lance, seeing a pretty alien girl looking allura's way and "politely" speedwalking over to her: alluralluraalluraalluraalluralluraalluraalluraalluralluraalluraallura pretty girl look over there eleven o'clock LOOK she's gonna walk away looklooklook

allura: lance darling thank you so much for your help but I am in the middle of talking to the president

and alternatively:

allura tries to set lance and keith up all the time. at first she was worried she would be overstepping boundaries, but after one particular sleepover where lance spent an entire hour lamenting his "bad luck" she decided to take things into her own hands

this includes, but is not limited to; sending them on supply missions alone together (often), mentioning particular things lance has done to his appearance to keith every time she can, and talking about specific paladin bonds more than she maybe should

lance hates it

keith, walking into the lounge: h-

allura, immediately: hello keith!! help settle an argument, will you :)?

keith: um… okay

allura: lovely! now, tell me, do you think lance looks cuter today than he did yesterday? we can't seem to agree on whether or by he's stunning or simply handsome. what do you think?

keith: uh-

allura: oh, and while I have you, have you noticed that his ears are pierced?

lance, beet red: allu-

allura: what :(?? can't i be proud of my handiwork??

lance, to keith: I am not associated with her

after a week of this keith literally sets up a system where if allura is in a room he walks into he just does a complete 180 and walks back out

one time, at a diplomatic meeting, an alien politician mistook them for a couple and they both choked on their drinks at the same time, and then got offended that the other one agreed that the concept was insane

allura: what happened to being the princess of your dreams, lance?? I thought I MEANT something to you. obviously! i was wrong!

lance: oh yeah?? then why did you GIGGLE, allura. what's so funny, huh?? my good looks??? my charming charisma?? how far out of your league I am???

allura:

lance: okay maybe that last one was a bit of a stretch

another thing lance and allura do is pronounce each other's names wrong

they call each other lonce and allora

it started as lance kind of making fun of allura's accent, but turned into just one of their Things

allura honestly didn't know it was a bit until the habit had been long constructed

#pippa.post #pippa.canon #vld lance #vld keith #vld allura #klance #vld pidge #pippa.ask #vld shiro #i added klance bc i know you like it gia i hope this was up to your standard <3 #vld coran #vld team

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madhyanas · 4 years

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I pronounce it as Yin hhahahah but also um 👉🏼👈🏼 are u going to share your poly fic with the class

i feel inordinately validated w getting an anon ask (also sorry this took so long wow i’m a hoe)

alright see anon i have a love for poly reader fics there’s a whole oberyn x reader x ellaria thing i want to talk about too asjdhgfsjhdgf

@pettyprocrastination and @concussed-to-pieces really beat the shit out of me with their writing. in a really good way like i adore their poly content. also @wickedlyemma is simultaneously the best and the worst because her tua fics are what got me in this hellhole to begin with mwah

but the one i mentioned on the post you’re talkin about is a diego x fem!reader x lila fic for the umbrella academy. man it lives in my mind rent FREE. holy fuck. ok listen right just humour me for a sec.

this is about 1k lmao it really got away from me

not really what you’d call Good Writing but it’s a blurb that’s vaguely coherent please enjoy

(spoilers for s2)

s2 is where the gang finally find out they’re not the only ones w abilities, right? like they don’t know about the whole ‘43′ but they have an inkling. so: an au where lila STAYS, and after all that shit w the commission, the family gets back to the present and the next hyperfixation is to try and find these other super-powered people. (none of that sparrow academy shit alright - ben’s still hangin around - let me have my self-indulgent au where these kids catch a fuckin break)

———

It’s been a few months. The family takes in Lila as one of their own, but it’s stilted. Like a puzzle piece forced into the wrong space, made to mesh and fit in an image it doesn’t belong to. Everyone’s got their own shit to deal with after the time jump and very little time to make the effort to trust her. Five doesn’t even bother, and Luther’s inclined to agree with him. But that’s okay. They’re like her, in that they’re not normal. They’re all so laughably not normal. It’s so funny she cries.

But she has Diego. Which is all Lila really cares about at the end of the day. They’re working through things. Things she put him through. Things he needs to let go. Things they need to talk about. Little by little, they make it work. No more secrets, not with each other. They love each other too much for all that pain, all over again.

But that’s family politics and emotional healing aight back to the romance. Listen ok maybe Five does his freaky investigation shit, maybe he digs up whatever records he can find of unnatural births on October 1st, 1989. Maybe he finds one of these unnatural kids and tracks em down to a flower store downtown - closer than any of them could’ve imagined, practically in the Hargreeves’ backyard. The owner is kind, pleasant. Boring, in Five’s words. You don’t seem anything out of the ordinary.

But even with a modest little greenhouse out back, you’re still in the middle of the city. With smoke, fumes, pollution. How are the leaves that healthy? How are the flowers that vibrant? How is it, that in your shop, no plant ever really seems to die? The flourishing life your shop fosters is beautiful, but uncanny.

And yeah, sick of being treated like a knife in the back waiting to happen, maybe Lila volunteers for recon. To get away for a while. Some part of her is desperate for a mark, itching to get back to what she’s good at. Especially since the last one went... awry.

Since they won’t trust her to go it solo, Diego gets dragged along as a handler supervisor. Perhaps because he’s the only one they think she won’t harm. Idiots. She’d never, not her boy. Not after the Kennedy clusterfuck. So Diego goes along, and to her surprise he’s actually looking forward to it. He knows the urge to stick to a lead like your life depends on it. He’s been that person before. God, he still is.

A honeymoon, she croons in his ear, and he snorts. His hand sliding into hers brings a grin to her lips and a warmth to her cheeks.

Out of all of them, Lila’s the least recognisable. She’s learnt how to blend in, how to appear innocuous. How not to appear at all. So she slides into the florist’s with ease, just another customer. And maybe the little gardener is cute. You smile at Lila like she couldn’t do anything wrong. You see her as a person, rather than a ticking time bomb. Your face falls meekly as Lila tells you she’s buying flowers for her boyfriend. You look so pretty when you’re flustered, scarcely breathing as Lila traces the smear of soil on your cheek, tucks that errant lock behind your ear. Oh, if only you knew.

Debriefing takes longer and longer as the days go on. Lila tells Diego with giddy excitement how you hum while watering the succulents, smile at the blooming buds like you’re proud of them. How you listen to Lila like she’s the only thing that matters and how your laugh sounds like the first break of spring. And Diego might take some convincing, but he can’t help but feel somewhat enamoured with the gardener. The idea of you, at least.

Falling for your mark. It’s so cliché.

Even so, Lila gets to know you. So does Diego, living vicariously through surreptitious surveillance and Lila’s own love-struck recounts.

Maybe they break protocol a little. Lila takes you out for coffee, learns your order. Learns that the care you attend to your plants with is applied to just about everything in your life. Including her. Maybe Diego begins to join you, discovering that all the hiding and sneaking around was pointless because the name ‘Diego’ doesn’t mean anything sinister to you. ‘Hargreeves’, though, they don’t mention. Not right now. You’re kind, not stupid, and if you do have the abilities they suspect, then any mention of the mythic family will send you running for the hills.

While Lila’s in the bathroom, Diego throws a light jab. Just to test the waters. Maybe you counter with something quick and cutting, raising a brow. And oh, how his heart flutters once he finds out you have thorns. Diego falls quicker than he realises, your sweet half-smile taking hold of his heart just like Lila’s sharp grin did, way back in ‘63. He decides, then and there, that Five doesn’t need to know about this. None of the others do.

Maybe they break protocol a lot, and show up at the flower shop one day, asking you to sit down. No more secrets, they remember. Not between them, and now, not with you. They tell you a story of cruel parents, superpowers and lonely children. Of death and rage and destruction. Of the apocalypse, which never happened yet apparently did, and how you died, a speck amongst billions. Of falling down a rabbit hole to the 60′s, and falling all the way back again. They tell you who they are, who they think you are, and why they showed up in the first place.

Five definitely doesn’t need to know about this.

It’s... a lot. You need time to process, and they understand. They don’t like it, but Diego’s not Sir Reginald and Lila’s not the Handler. So they leave you be, thinking that’s that. Their florist, yet another mistake made by The Umbrella Academy, left in the dust. You feel confused and betrayed and heartbroken for a long while. Radio silence.

Until things get better.

You show up at their apartment one evening, weeks later, holding a potted un-sprouted bulb, panting at the doorstep like you ran all the way there. They let you in without a word. You set the flowerpot on the table and god, you talk more than they’ve ever heard from you in one sitting. It’s rambling, not all that eloquent. But they understand what you’re saying, eyes softening at your misguided panic.

And then — shyly, as if they could ever deny you anything — you ask if they want to see. (It takes Diego’s elbow in her side to get Lila’s mind out of the gutter.) You dip your fingers into the soil, frowning gently in concentration. There’s a familiar pins-and-needles sensation in your fingertips, flowing through your nerves and into the moist earth. Absently, you worry if it’ll even work. These two have a tendency to throw you off guard.

But lo and behold, the dormant bulb unfurls before their eyes in a matter of seconds, springing forth a fresh green shoot, and a moment later, a starburst of golden petals.

A daffodil, bobbing lightly on their coffee table.

———

ugh yeah lmao this got long but that’s the fic idea, anon. thanks for askin :)

and NO the super-powered kids aren’t related - in my mind the hargreeves’ were adopted/raised together and are therefore siblings and THAT’S why they shouldn’t date each other - but diego, lila and reader have no familial connection. at all. i’m not here for any pseudo-incest shit in this fic pls and thank u.

aha look at me writing blurbs for tua fics when i have a wholeass! paz fic! published! and u n f i n i s h e d ! alsdhfgalshdfg now i want to do more someone come scream at me about ezra and oberyn and ellaria and paz and boba and din and any other character under the sun

listen y’all i have a lot of IDEAS for various fics and i also have Zero self control - please ask me about them!!!! fuck it man ask me about anything odds are i’ll fuckin write it!!!!!! i am a desperate hoe!!!! i have no self-respect!!!!

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ascottywrites · 5 years

Text

The Angsty Post

Where Happy Endings come at the slowest of paces.

*Or, you know, sometimes not at all.

Rewriting the future by Synesthetic (Complete: 28/28| 106,631) --Steter

Two days before their planned bonding, alpha Derek Hale runs away with his secret beta girlfriend, leaving Stiles heartbroken. With the demands of his omega physiology forcing him to bond with someone before his first heat, Derek's uncle Peter steps in and offers a solution.

Backstage is Full of Parasites by Falln_Grce (Complete: 14/14| 61,346) --Steter

A little tweak to the Teen Wolf universe where Stiles learned to take care of himself from a young age. And despite going through trauma as a child, he's 17 now and has adjusted to the new normal as well as he can. With a soulmate-AU just to keep things interesting.

What if the Sheriff didn't turn to alcohol when his wife died... What if he focused all of his attention on helping a seven year old, recently removed from an abusive home, Isaac get settled into the Stilinski household... Where would Stiles fit into that world?

How I Long For Yesterday by sweetbutterbliss (One-shot| 6,017) --Sterek

Stiles blinks, his throat going dry, and he moves his thumb without thinking - liking the post. He feels a surge of petty satisfaction. At least the fucker will know he knows now. He stands up, his body feeling too heavy, and he blows out the already guttering candles. He lets out a sob of frustration when the last one won't fucking blow out. But he sucks it back in and bites down on his tongue, using his thumb and forefinger instead.

He throws himself into their empty bed without undressing. He lies there repeating the words 'Derek blew me off for Isaac' over and over. He tells himself to shut up while rearranging his pillow violently, but he goes to sleep with the refrain continuing its painful loop.

You're Not Who I Thought You Were by halcyon1993 (Complete: 21/21| 84,549) --Sterek

Stiles is lonely. The only person who really talks to him is his best friend, and even Scott seems eager to ditch him whenever someone better comes along. Following a stupid decision made late one night, his small world opens up as he discovers things he never before thought possible and he meets a mysterious man who could be the answer to all of his problems.

In Word and in Deed by lielabell (one-shot| 7,778) --Sterek

Stiles has stopped saying "I love you." Derek wants to know why.

(Once in a) Blue Moon by clarkoholic, skywardsmiles (Complete: 14/14| 60,051) --Sterek

Stiles and Derek are getting along, but they’re not a family, and they’re sure as hell not mates. Christ, they’re basically just two stupid guys who happened to get pregnant because of a full moon and sheer dumb luck.

We Are Made of Our Memories by JenyaKeefe (Complete: 9/9| 12,441) --Sterek

"I don't have amnesia." "Um, clearly you do. You're under a spell that's taken a year's worth of memories." "No. I've wakened from a spell."

Lost on you by devilscut (Complete: 7/7| 51,322) --Steterek

A deadly encounter with an Alpha changes Stiles' life forever - kicked out and betrayed by his best friend and brother, Scott McCall, he leaves Beacon Hills, but much to his surprise not alone. Ten years down the track, living a life he never dreamed possible, a chance meeting brings back memories of that night - the good and bad mixed with a whole lotta WTF that even now still has him scratching his head as to what happened.

In Treatment by tzzzz (Complete: 22/22| 166,937) --Sterek

Derek hires Stiles, a professional alpha sex therapist, to help him through his heat.

The New Normal by midnightcas (Complete: 27/27| 63,392) --Sterek

After Stiles gets hurt...again, Derek puts him on the metaphorical supernatural bench. Meanwhile, Stiles tries to have a normal life and make normal friends. But when a new pack comes to town and the Hales start getting threats, things start to get a little....not normal.

The Mating Privilege by Kikileduc (Complete: 12/12| 35,380) --Sterek

Stiles and Derek have been happily mated. The pack is doing well, but in hopes of creating alliances for it to do better, Derek accepts a neighboring pack's request to allow two wolves to join the Hale-McCall pack for a full moon cycle. They hope to form a blood-tie, or at least a long term friendship between the two packs. The issue is Kohona, the tribal leader's daughter, has her eyes set on an unavailable alpha wolf. This could have drastic consequences for their young emissary, however...

Beta read by the amazing Splash_of_ bi! Cannot thank you enough!!

Jokingly I'm adding this WARNING after having two separate comments talk about heart palpitations and others stating they are physically shaking or experiencing high blood pressure after reading the first few chapters.... WARNING: read with caution if you have a pre existing heart condition, Derek and the Pack may cause you to be upset!!

If We Could Match by forestofbabel (Complete: 9/9| 23,455) --Sterek

As Stiles waits behind the camera during an interview, he thinks he should maybe quit. Because, in all honesty, despite the charming smile the actor is pulling out for EW, Derek Hale is kind of a jerk.

Your Heart for My White Fences by zgdtx (Complete: 10/10| 29,444) --Sterek

At first, Derek was the one night stand that he could not pry himself away from. Before he knew it, Derek was the married man Stiles had fallen in love with. Then, Stiles was the little lamb being tossed into a pit of wolves, helpless and alone. There was not much he could do, no, not much at all. Dark AU.

Call in the Air Stike (Tell Them to Make the Drop) by WednesdaysDaughter (Complete: 2/2| 5,126) --Sterek

"How do you tell your best friend that the guy you were slowly falling in love with flat out said you were nothing but a waste of space, and you’ve secretly felt that way about yourself once or twice on a bad day? The answer is, you don’t."

Twyla Hale by FiccinDylan (Complete: 13/13| 37,123) --Sterek

After the formula of their go-to product changes, "Hair Day" becomes "Hell Day" in the Hale Pack household. It's time for Derek to call in the pros, imagine his surprise when he's presented with a wicked tongued white boy with honey brown eyes.

***sure there’s some stuff that happens that’s not fun but i think I would characterize this as light angst in comparison to the inherent possibilities of this fandom lol

Baby You're Beautiful by supernaynay (one-shot| 1,089) --Sterek

“God you’re beautiful.”

Derek hadn’t even realized that the words had left his mouth until the whole room went silent, including Stiles, who until about five seconds earlier was busy yelling at him for putting himself in danger yet again.

I want to do this for you by Late_to_the_fandom (Complete: 17/17| 19,323) --Sterek

“You must be delusional,” Derek deadpanned as he stood abruptly and stalked away indignantly to throw the broken shards of his cup in the garbage can. “In what harebrained scenario of yours did you think I’d say yes to this?” His heart thundered in his chest as he stared at Stiles in disbelief. “Nothing good can come out of this and you know it.” He paced angrily, his hands fisting then uncurling as he tried to rein his emotions. He stopped suddenly, his glare piercing and his words cutting, “I would never let you use me like this.”

There's Something About Love that Breaks Your Heart by Stereklover11 (Complete: 5/5| 7,835) --Sterek

"I love you," Stiles said.

Derek didn't answer right away. Then he said:

"I'm sorry Stiles, but I don't feel that way about you. Or any guy for that matter."

The one where Derek is bisexual but doesn't know it and refuses Stiles' love...at first. ;)

Baby Daddy by DiscontentedWinter (Complete: 25/25| 55,369) --Sterek

Laura Hale decides it's time to expand her pack. And Stiles could really use the money. And Derek... well, that's when things get complicated.

Bake to Remember, Eat to Forget by butyoureyessaidyes (Complete: 19/19) --Sterek

It’s 6:18 A.M. on a Monday, and Stiles is using his thumbs to shape the fondant butt of a Winnie the Pooh sculpture. It’s the most action he’s seen in a long time.

Or the one where Stiles runs his own bakery, never locks the front door, and doesn't know he's part of a werewolf pack (until he does).

Kill Me Once, Shame On You by AllTheseSquaresMakeACircle (wip: 15/?| 46,512) --Sterek

In the aftermath of their final bout with Gerard, things kinda went to shit. Yeah, they won. But Scott had violated some major boundaries. Jackson was still an emotionally constipated douche. Erica and Boyd were missing. In general, everyone was left missing a piece of themselves in one form or another. There was also the fact that there was a literal pack of alphas bearing down on them. Stiles was really getting sick of this shit.

(There's) Sulphur in Our Blood by WonderWolf (wip: 19/21| 186,356) --Sterek

"Harris put you on a recon mission with Derek. You. Alone with Derek. On a mission. Together,” Scott says, slowly. “Does Harris want you dead?”

“I believe so," Stiles says gravely.

(Secret Agent AU where Derek blames Stiles for his sister’s death and Stiles is pretty sure that Derek’s going to murder him. As if that weren’t enough to deal with, Stiles’ familiar keeps having public breakdowns.

Oh, and there’s a mole in the agency, so there’s that too).

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ravenforce · 5 years

Text

Begin Again Pt. 1

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x OC!Daughter x Surprise!Character

Word Count: 1827

Warning/s: Nothing? Except this will be a multi-chapter because this part is long AF, as per usual. LOL.

A/N: Hey loves, I’m sorry for being MIA for a long time. I bled my heart and soul in this fic, and I guess I’m not really ready to end this journey. This fic is an alternative ending to See You in A minute, meaning Stardust didn’t happen. I hope you’ll like it. If you haven’t read the whole installation, I’ll put the links below. xx

Series: See You In A Minute | I’ll Never Love Again | Stardust

Alt. Ending: Begin Again Pt. 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

It’s quiet hilarious to see a room full of super powered being clamouring to have little Asya on their arms, cooing soft words of love and affirmation to the little miracle that is your daughter but it’s also reassuring. Seeing the Avengers, literally assembled for your daughter’s birth grounds Natasha in a way that she hasn’t felt in a long time since you passed. Seeing her family around your daughter gives her the strength and confidence that she can, indeed, do this because she’s not alone, not really.

***

Raising Asya as a single mother was overwhelming for Natasha. She wasn’t ready, not really. She thinks its infinitely better if you were there waking up at the middle of the night to a wailing child after putting her down only half an hour ago.

There were so many days where she imagines you in Tony’s place, offering to take over Asya so she can catch more than a few minutes of sleep. There were so many days where she wishes it’s you that’s making your daughter laugh instead of Thor. There were so many nights after she put Asya down to sleep where she breaks down and cries because she misses you.

She misses your light, your warmth, your arms around her, your steadfast belief in her ability to be good and your constant reassurance that she’s enough. She misses your undying support that even though she can do everything she puts her mind into, she doesn’t have to because she has you. You stood by her, you fought alongside her, you loved her, you carried half of her burden and God does she wish to have you back in her arms if only the world’s a wish-granting machine.

But Natasha knew a long time ago that the world is cruel. So she allowed herself to break down at nights but come morning, Natasha resolves to be the best version of herself to be the mother Asya deserves.

***

Three

Toddlers are a handful, except Asya’s not like any other kid who yells and wails and pulls a tantrum to get what they want. No, Asya is very diplomatic. Ever since she learned her words, Asya has been a very good communicator since.

How she’s talking way too straight for a three years old was beyond all of them. Except for Tony and the pediatrician and child psychologist Bruce brought in, with Natasha’s approval of course, believe that Asya may be speaking straighter than most kids her age because of the stimulus around her. Asya lives with three adults and an eleven-year-old, no one talks to her like she’s a baby. So she doesn’t talk like one either.

At three, Asya and Natasha have developed a very close bond. Even though they live and share common spaces with the Starks, she’s closest to her mother. She loves following Nat around, and Nat doesn’t complain about it. She’s a brilliant, radiant child and Nat loves being with her because Asya, amidst not meeting you, carries on so much of you in her; not just your eyes, and it makes Nat feel like she has her best friend back.

***

Nat and Asya have established a fairly good routine by now. Every morning, Nat takes her on her morning hike around the property where they sweat and soak up some sun. Asya loves hiking with Nat, where halfway she asked her mother to give her a piggyback ride. Nat doesn’t complain, Asya practically weights anything. Asya also uses this time to ask Nat questions about anything and everything under the sun. Sometimes she makes Nat tell her stories about you and Nat talks her head off until they get back to the house.

After hiking, they would shower and then have some breakfast, mostly with the Starks. Nat's lucky that Asya’s not a picky eater. Breakfast is always a joy, the Starks loves Asya especially Morgan who treats her like a baby sister. Sometimes, Peter would swing by to catch up with Iron Dad, and his adoptive siblings.

***

After breakfast, everyone breaks off to do their stuff. Nat goes to S.H.I.E.L.D three times a week to help Deputy Director Hill on things. It has been a careful deliberation and discussion with her family before everyone agreed that not being coop up in the house is good for Nat. Tony only agreed after Nat promises that she'll do solely HQ work, no mission of any kind whatsoever.

Nat brings Asya along with her. At first, Nat was hesitant but Asya knows how to behave especially when she’s in public. She stays at her mother’s side or Auntie Maria when Nat has to step away for a minute.

After Asya’s first visit, S.H.I.E.L.D gave her an official ID that allows her to enter the premises. On her second visit, Maria gave her a tailored S.H.I.E.L.D uniform with ‘Romanova-Y/L/N' embroidered on it, which she insisted on wearing every time they go to work. Asya strutting around the HQ in her uniform gave her power over all agents on duty, Director Fury included. Nat rolls her eyes lovingly every time Asya bats her long eyelashes to get everyone to scram and procure whatever she wants.

“She is truly both yours and Y/N's daughter,” Maria commented after sitting next to Nat on the command center and watching Asya interact with the other agents.

“I’m scared that she’s this good at three,” Nat said chuckling.

***

Maria never asks Nat to stay in the HQ all day, and in the event does she does, Maria always takes them to dinner. Nat and Maria maintained a very professional relationship between them in the past but without you and before Asya, Nat became more reclusive which worried her family. So Maria took a chance at friendship the moment she heard about Asya. Nat was surprised when Maria herself, without Nick, came down with flowers to congratulate her. They’ve become really good friends since then.

If Nat's dismissed from HQ early, Nat always brings Asya to Stardust Diner – your favorite - either before or after they go to a museums, library and/or the aquarium. Asya’s sense of wonder came from you, which only makes Nat fall in love with your little miracle more.

***

At night, a part of their nightly rituals is either Nat reading one of your books or showing her the scrapbook the team made to Asya. It’s a collection of photos with you that they’re able to unearth on their camera rolls. Most of them are hilarious, especially those photos of you goofing around with the boys. Some of them are downright sweet, like the photo of you and Wanda cuddling one movie night or the photo of you on Thor's back when you sprained your ankle after a recon mission. Looking at the photos always reminds Nat that she’s not grieving alone, the whole team, the whole family lost you too.

Sometimes it’ll be overwhelming for Nat, and Asya - bless her attentiveness and empathy - would close the scrapbook herself and cuddle her mother. On nights like this, Asya always ends up sleeping over in Nat’s room.

“It’s okay mama, I miss mom too,” Asya would murmur half asleep as she lay on Nat’s chest.

Even though it still hurts, Asya’s presence never fails to soothe her aching heart and soul. With Asya secure in her arms, Nat still sleeps with some semblance of peace.

***

Five

Life will keep moving forward whether you get on it or not but life was put on hold one morning after everyone received Thor’s request for an emergency meeting at HQ. The tension in the room is so thick, one can cut it with a plastic spoon. Tony’s pacing the room, Carol’s bouncing her leg on her seat, even Bucky’s tapping his fingers on the table.

“Relax. I’m sure it’s nothing,” Nat tried to assure the team.

“I don’t know how to relax. The last time we were all in the same room the world was ending,” Tony whispered through gritted teeth. Pepper put a hand on his shoulder and he instantly stopped moving and sighed.

“Maybe I should go check on Thor?” Carol asked as she rises from her chair, unable to sit still any longer. She’s nervous too, Tony’s right the last time they were all gathered together they lost you and Vision.

Just as Carol changed into her Captain Marvel uniform, an alarm sounded in the room; signaling Thor’s spaceship landing in the compound. Their collective hearts hammered as strong as the engines of the spacecraft.

“Finally,” Scott sighed.

***

It took a couple of more minutes before the engines died down. By the time, its entrance opened the whole team has gathered at its mouth. Director Fury and Deputy Director Hill are standing a little further, watching the whole scene.

“What’s happening Nick?” Maria asked.

Nick just shook his head. “Wait for it,” he said.

Rocket was the first to board off, he is still salty as per usual. Everyone gave him high fives. When he got to Nat and Asya, he smiled. Asya ruffled his head, everyone’s shock Rocket didn’t make a fuss.

“You’re in for a surprise, kid,” he said as he handed Asya a space rock. Asya and Morgan's growing a collection, most of them are from Carol. Asya thanked his furry little uncle before turning her attention to the rock.

Before Nat could say anything, Loki and Thor walked out of ship together. Nat tried to read the Asgardians but they’re not giving themselves away. The moment Thor set foot on dirt, there’s a cacophony of greetings and questions.

“Woah! Woah! Take a breathe people, there is no threat,” Thor said.

“If there’s no threat then why haul everyone here? Even T'Challa left Wakanda for this,” Sam said a little frustrated.

Before Thor can say anything else, everyone turned at the sound of another footstep inside the ship. When the person whose said footsteps belong to emerged, every single one of them lost their breath and their tether to earth and sanity.

***

Stepping off the spaceship was none other than you.

Taglist: @natthisback @5aftermidnight

#raven writes #avengers imagine #marvel imagine #mcu imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov x reader #natasha romanova x reader #black widow x reader #natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanov x you #natasha romanova x you #black widow x you #natasha romanoff x oc #natasha romanoff x oc!daughter #natasha romanoff x daughter

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danetobelieve · 4 years

Text

As Mime Goes By || Harsh, Ricky, Rio and Winston

Winston looked over at Ricky as they pulled over to the agreed point they would park. Turning to Orion and Ricky, they swallowed before looking out the window. They’d taken the essentials of course, flashlight, tablet, camera, everything that you needed when you were doing recon, not to mention lots of energy heavy snacks for when they inevitably over did the magic. They hoped that wouldn’t be a problem, but just in case they’d brought a baseball bat. “Listen, these,” they waved their bat as they got out the car, “are just precautions, we’re just looking around and Rio is here because he’s you know you’ve got the whole,” Winston flexed and grunted before continuing, “going on and Ricky is here because he looks like that. So recon. No fighting, oh and this guy’s name is Harsh. So no funny jokes about it, please.”

It was the unspoken rule of heists that the guy with the truck drove, and so Ricky was the one behind the wheel as the three of them pulled into their destination. Winston had asked them to tag along and Ricky was in the habit of doing whatever Winston wanted because well it was nice to have more members of the family. He snickered a little bit as Winston dragged the baseball bat out of the car before tucking one of several hunting knives he’d picked up into strategic and easily accessible points around his person, “Uh huh. It doesn’t help that the last time the three of us went someplace together we almost blew up a restaurant. We probably need more than a baseball bat but, that’s why you’ve got me and muscles over here.” he pointed to Rio and shrugged, “Harsh isn’t the weirdest name I’ve ever heard. As long as they don’t feed us to the mimes I’m chill.”

This whole thing was a terrible idea. Harsh shouldn’t have agreed, hell he shouldn’t have suggested it. Oh well, too late to back out now. Winston seemed decent, so he couldn’t just let them and their roomies go it alone. He lingered in the shadows, watching as the car pulled up and parked. Those looked like the guys. Lifting a hand in greeting, he made his way over. “Winston? This is our backup? Nice to meet you, I’m guessing Winston already told you about me. I figure we just go around, try to keep quiet and see if we spot anymore of those assholes wandering around. As soon as we run into trouble though, we run. I fought one of those things already and I’m not up for doing it again tonight.” He shifted on the spot, glancing back toward the restaurant. The area nearby seemed way too normal for some place that should have been blown up recently. “So, you ready to head in?”

Another day, another potentially dangerous and absolutely stupid thing that Orion had let himself get dragged into. The things he did for his roommates. “I detest being called muscles” Rio spoke nonchalantly from the back seat. He wasn’t serious for the most part, though he wasn’t exactly a fan of using the super strength unless necessary. And he was currently praying to the God he didn’t really believe in that it wasn’t necessary. He was getting pretty sick of mimes trying to kill him. “Nice to meet you mister. I’m Orion, or Rio.” He introduced himself to Harsh. “I like the running idea. We should bring you along more often.” The only reason he agreed to come along was because he was afraid his roommates were going to get themselves hurt. Plus he had night vision. “If I say no, do we get to leave?”

Rolling their eyes, Winston wished to all hell that they could just walk away from here. But with their mime attempting to murder them multiple times now, enough was enough. It was time to find a solution. Skylar was losing her mind, Roland was mute, Athena too. It was too much. Something had to be done and Winston might be able to do it. Hopefully. “Yeah, I’m Winston and this is my other friend Ricky,” they wished that they had someone like Nic with them, but it seemed weird to come to a hunter with a random problem when they didn’t know them and they DEFINITELY weren’t talking to Athena about this. “Let’s get this over with so that we can begin planning how we solve this problem.” Winston crept slowly down the deserted street. Which was weird for this time of night. It shouldn’t be this empty right? Was it also really necessary that the street lights were flickering?

Ricky flashed a peace sign as Winston introduced him, “Yo. I’m Ricky. I drive the truck, get stuff off tall shelves, and have some knives for mime stabbing. I would love not having to rip anyone else’s throat out with my teeth. That’s like…. Stretch goal for the evening.” He followed closely, if not nearly as stealthily, behind Winston as they made their way slowly to the restaurant “There are… uh there’re street lights, my dude. I think they can see us. Also if we were gonna be sneaking you should have told me so I didn’t roll up in a fucking bro tank and skinny jeans. Archer would be so disappointed in me.” He glanced quickly behind him to make sure Rio was still in his field of vision. Hunter revelation aside Ricky felt a certain level of protectiveness over his new roommate. He wasn’t the biggest fan of the fact that there was a real chance they’d all get murdered by a fucking mime. “Yo. W.” he got closer to Winston and lowered his voice, “Is your new friend chill? If I have to go all bitey again I don’t want someone freaking out.”

“Oh yeah? I think I heard about that throat ripping thing, nice work on that, man,” Harsh said, with a little grin. “But yeah, I’d rather run than have to resort to that.” He kept pace with the others, eyes flicking this way and that. It was quiet, way too quiet. There was a knife tucked inside of his jacket, but he didn’t plan on going for it except as a last resort. As they drew closer to the restaurant, he frowned, an odd smell catching his attention. It was almost… sweet? “Hey, you guys smell that? It’s like… pastries? The place is supposed to be closed isn’t it?” His frown grew slightly. Wait… he knew this smell, the last time he had noticed it was at Flipped, right after he had cut that mime’s throat. Not a great sign there. His eyes drifted around again. “Anyone see anything moving? I think… those mime things, when they bleed, they smell like this.”

Orion crept along with the group, keeping an eye around the place to see if anything caught his attention. “Maybe they cook overnight?” Rio asked curiously, but he could already tell that he couldn’t hear any footsteps or anything from within the restaurant. That didn’t seem to mean much honestly, he also hadn’t heard anything when Erin’s mime chased them or when Rio and Blanche’s mime had broken into the house. Somehow these things moved completely silently. For someone that was so used to hearing everything, it was a bit unnerving. “I don’t see anyone moving around inside but…” He hopped a bit, trying to get a better look inside, “I see something on the floors.” It was dark, almost viscous. It only took a moment for Rio to realize that it looked remarkably similar to whatever it was that the mimes bled. “I think… I think you’re right,” Rio looked over at Harsh. “I can see the stuff on the floors inside. Like trails of it leading somewhere.” Rio personally had no desire to figure out where it led, but something told him he wasn’t getting off that easily.

It would be a dream come true if Winston was able to believe that that bizarre smell that had enveloped them was from them cooking overnight. Whilst they were sure that was something that a normal thing that restaurants did, but this was as far from being a normal restaurant as it was possible to be. Their baseball bat felt somewhat unwieldy and Winston was regretting not bringing a knife along with them like the rest of them. They guessed ultimately they wouldn’t be doing anything other then trying to use magic to work things through. “That stuff looks kind of like … tar?” Winston hadn’t really ever seen tar before but this was exactly how they imagined that it looked. Winston crept closer, were those foot prints? “Hey guys, come look at this, looks kind of like someone walked in that stuff. Maybe we weren’t the first ones here?”

The smell and the look of the footprints on the floor immediately gave Ricky flashbacks to the Al’s parking lot and his first face to face run in with the mimes. “I don’t want to be the bearer of bad news… but… well we’re all in a fucking mime restaurant in the dead of night tracking killer mimes we all knew this was gonna be bad news from the fucking start…” he toed the goop on the floor a little, “This be the shit those fuckers bleed. Smells like baked goods, looks like tar, tastes pretty fucking gross too if you were wondering.” He walked over to wear Winston was standing, glad that for all his color blindness his dark vision was actually pretty fucking good. “My incredibly uneducated yet fantastically handsome guess wouldn’t be that someone walked through it. Maybe… secreted it? Trailed it from them when they were birthed into this world from whatever screaming fucking hellscape breeds clone mimes? We should probably all stick real close together.”

Great, just fucking great. Harsh clenched his jaw, focusing on any slight sounds. He followed after Winston, keeping his head on a swivel, watching for the faintest hint of movement. Crouching down, he tentatively dragged a finger over the print. “It’s dry. I think these have been here a while. I’m no tracker, but I don’t think whatever left these is still around. Or I sure hope it’s not.” He straightened up slowly, wiping his hand absently on his jacket, even though the stuff hadn’t stuck to him. Just touching it dry made him feel like he needed to wash his hands. “So… is everyone else thinking that at least some of those things came from here? I think it’s not just their blood. This is gonna sound weird, but… I think they’re made of this stuff, whatever the hell it is.” He grimaced as he turned toward the doors of the restaurant. “It looks pretty empty in there,” he said slowly, glancing at the other three. “I agree, let’s stick close, maybe circle around the place, see if there’s more footprints.”

Orion cringed when Harsh bent down and touched the stuff. “Ricky, stop giving theories you’re gonna give me nightmares.” He should have offered to wait in the truck, be a getaway driver in case they needed a speedy getaway. Anything to keep him away from here. He had goosebumps trailing his arms. “Well they’re clearly not human. Whatever they are they burst into smoke when they die. It’s uh… well I don’t like the idea that they’re coming from a restaurant. Where food is made.” Not that Rio had ever eaten there, nor did he ever plan to. “Just make sure you keep an eye out for anything. This sounds crazy, but they don’t like, make noise. Footsteps, heart beat. Nothing.”

Somehow, not that Winston was sure how it was possible, the smell here seemed to be even stronger. “It doesn’t seem like a bad theory that these things are related to this goop in someway.” They could help but crouch down alongside Harsh and examine it as well, though they hadn’t touched it out of fear of what it might do. Harsh seemed fine though and Winston put the thought from their mind. “Maybe they could be made from this stuff, do you think this means that this stuff is made here?” They wondered if it was some kind of weird magic or something else. Whatever the case, Winston didn’t want to know what was going on. Not really. Not enough to actually be here. The urge to bolt and sprint from here was irresistible. But they managed. “We should see if we can see anything else, maybe see if we can get around the back.” Winston was sure it wasn’t going to be there. “Just be careful, I had a run in with something weird here a little while back.”

“Rio if you get nightmares I’ll read you a bedtime story and fix you a glass of warm milk with vanilla and cinnamon. My mom used to swear by it.” What Niamh Cordero had actually sworn by was mackerel before bed but there wasn’t any reason for Harsh to get the idea that Ricky wasn’t human. Not at least until it was unavoidable. “It is nice that for once at least my near deafness isn’t a detriment. We’re all gonna be fucked for hearing!” When Winston suggested checking around the back Ricky took point, pulling a serrated knife out of its sheath tucked into his jeans, “You know…” his voice was low as they all crept towards the back of the incredibly fucking spooky restaurant, “It was entirely too easy to buy like all of these knives. There’s literally a section in the farm goods store off route 48. It’s practically a whole “get ready to skin trespassers” department back there. He peered through the oval window of the swinging door back to the kitchen, not seeing anything immediately visible. “I’ll go through first. Since in classic horror trope the dumb jock dies first.” He had expected at least a little squeak from the door but the hinges were whisper quiet as he slowly pushed through.

“I don’t know, it could be coming from this place, but what even is it? If this place is making this stuff, I don’t want to know what kind of food they serve.” He followed after Ricky, eyes lingering on the knife. “You have a lot of those? Listen, if we see another one of those mime things, I’d rather bolt than try to fight it. The first one of them was hard enough to take out.” Harsh stopped by the door, watching Ricky head inside. He looked over Winston and Orion. Maybe it had been a bad idea to ask them to tag along. They were both young… and scared. Shit, this whole worrying about people thing was a pain in the ass. “You two hang back, I’ll go in after him. Just keep watch out here. If you see anything, yell and we’ll come running.” He shook out his hands at his sides before following after Ricky, careful to keep his steps light and quiet as possible. Only a few steps in, he froze. There was something, the faintest of sounds, like… like footsteps, but wrong. Reaching out, he lightly tapped Ricky’s arm, trying to get his attention as he more mouthed the words than said them: “There’s something in here. I don’t think it’s human.”

There was a certain amount of relief that Orion felt when Harsh told them to hang back. He was also worried, and scared and anxious but he spent most of his life being those things. At least out here they could keep an eye on things. A few seconds later and Rio and Winston were standing alone out in the darkness. They had been alone a lot since the two had first become friends, first within the Scribe building after Winston’s night of sleepwalking, which Rio often regarded as one of the luckiest nights of recent memory. Now within the house too, if Ricky was gone and Rio and Winston found themselves hanging out. Things felt different now than they had when they first started hanging out. He wasn’t sure if it was because of the Athena revelation or from… something else. And because Rio had no time to start panicking about that particular revelation, he decided he needed to distract himself from thinking about what that something else might mean. “Dying at a mime restaurant would be the worst.” Rio whispered randomly, wandering around the open space because he couldn’t stand still at the moment. As he wandered, he noticed some sort of smell. He wasn’t sure what but… it wasn’t a good smell. The bakery smell of the gross liquid had mostly kept it covered up, but there was definitely something else around here too. “Hey, I think there’s something over here.” Rio warned before heading off to try to find the source of it. And… well unfortunately he did.

Thank God Winston wasn’t expected to be taking point here. They made a mental note that they had to make more friends with people who were far more capable then they were so that they didn’t have to continue taking point in potential life or death situations like this one. “Oh I don’t know, better to die in a mime restaurant then a clown rodeo or something equally absurd, besides, the french have the best cuisine right?” Winston rolled their eyes and sighed, this was as from their idea of fun as it was possible for them to have. “What the hell is that?” they moved away from where Harsh and Ricky had gone, wondering if there was something other then terrifying footprints and the smell of pastries here. Moving as stealthily as they could (which was not very) Winston crept across the room. The first thing that they witnessed was what looked like a very heavily chewed hand. Bite marks littered the fingers and here and there the flesh was entirely stripped away, leaving clear sections of bone exposed. Then there were more body parts, and more bones and more chunks of flesh. What Winston had originally decided was the tar like substance was actually a grotesque mixture of the substance and blood. It had congealed together into a viscous mucous like liquid and Winston had to stop themselves from being sick, but that seemed clear to them that it could only mean one thing. Eyes flashing up to Harsh and Ricky, they lurched to their feet and sprinted after them. The thing they’d found with Regan. It was clearly still here, but if they shouted they’d draw it’s attention faster then before.

“I have a lot of them now that there are killer mimes on the loose in the town. I decided to make a “you might die horribly but at least you can try to defend yourself first” shopping trip before this little outing” They crept through the kitchen as quietly as they could; the smell of yeast and dough turning from something appetite-inducing to something bone-chilling “I would also like to run since I don’t really fancy getting a chunk taken out of my shoulder again but I’mma make sure Winston and Rio make it back to the truck before I do. I managed to kill mine last time. So I’m 1-0 for mime slaughter.” The tall stainless steel of coolers reflected the dim emergency exit and Ricky nearly had a heart attack when Harsh reached out to tap Ricky’s arm. He turned and watched the other man’s lips move, spelling out a sentence he desperately hadn’t wanted to hear. Nodding tersely he kept his head on a swivel, trying to see what was purely shadow and what was a murderous stereotype waiting to devour them. It was only by chance that he happened to see the reflection of something in the glass door of the tall rotating oven. He grabbed Harsh’s arm and tugged them towards the relative safety of a small alcove that seemed to hold spices and flavorings. He hoped his wide-eyed panic and pointing to the general direction of whatever-the-fuck that thing had been was getting his point across properly.

Shit. Harsh had known this was a terrible idea from the start. He really had to start not diving into these things headfirst… and dragging random strangers into them with him. That was probably the part he should feel bad about here. At least that hollow inside had plenty of room for gut wrenching fear. He didn’t resist the pull on his arm, letting Ricky tug him into the alcove and flattening himself to the wall. The knife in his pocket was in his hand before he could think about it. If they could wait, stay quiet, maybe the… whatever it was would pass. But then he heard it, footsteps--Winston’s footsteps getting closer. Shit, they weren’t in cover and that thing was still out there. “It’s coming,” he muttered to Ricky. Whatever it was, the damn thing was almost dead silent, but it wasn’t invisible. Harsh saw movement and made a choice. “Grab Rio and go, I’ll get Winston. I’ve got a couple tricks up my sleeve, but that thing won’t be confused forever.” He shifted, moving to the edge of the alcove as he held a hand next to his mouth. “Over here, frenchy! Suck on this baguette, asshole!” The yell was his, but his voice came from the far corner of the restaurant. Those skittering feet turned on a dime, heading toward the sound. Harsh looked back to Ricky. “Go, now,” he said before darting out of the alcove. He reached Winston’s side with admittedly inhuman speed, but now wasn’t the time to worry about keeping pesky little secrets. Grabbing at their arm, he tugged. “We gotta go.”

Whatever the leftover remains that Winston and Orion had found was, it seemed abundantly clear that they were human. Rio felt sick, and his vision blurred a bit before he realized that Winston had ran off to find Ricky and Harsh. “Winston!” Rio whisper-yelled after them, but they were already gone. “Crap.” He crept toward the entrance, slower and more cautious than Winston had. This was not going as planned. Rio was ready to get into the room when he all but crashed into Ricky. “What the heck is going on?” Rio questioned, hearing Harsh yell some expletive. He was… distracting something. That wasn’t a good sign. “Truck, trucky” Rio said, turning and running off for it. Ricky was the getaway driver, so Rio needed to figure something out. He slid into the door, running too fast to have time to stop himself and through it open. “Why do you have a hacksaw?” Rio asked as he dug around in the backseat. Between that and an axe, Rio didn’t have a lot of options. “I hope you aren’t super attached to this.” He exclaimed, grabbing the axe, “Get the car started.” Then he took off running to another side of the building, taking a deep breath before he swung the axe at the window, shattering it and making as much noise as he possibly could.

As Harsh yelled, Winston knew that they had been too late in their mission of preventative warning. They were by their side alarmingly fast and Winston didn’t need anymore convincing that it was time for them to get out of here. They had seen that thing that had been behind the restaurant snapping up a cat and they didn’t want to see what would happen if they were given the opportunity to try and eat Winston again. They were running headlong from the restaurant when Winston saw an axe that looked shockingly like one of Ricky’s axes in Rio’s hands. “Hey, is that Bertha?” Winston grunted as they turned and saw their friend setting off for the other side of the building. It was their turn to do something about this all. “Uh, cover your eyes!” they pulled to a stop, the mime monster thing scrabbling after them, taking a deep breath they summoned their energy and hurled a bright spark of energy through the air in the direction of the friend. It exploded with a bright flash. “That’s like maybe a few seconds right?”

A lot of things happened in really quick succession, and Ricky wasn’t really sure he was prepared for any of them. Harsh threw his voice in a way that was decidedly not some expert ventriloquism and between the two of them they divvied up the friends waiting in the dining room. Ricky couldn’t run as fast as Harsh could apparently, but when the choices were hustle or being eaten by whatever the fuck had been stalking them in the kitchen, he could pound the pavement with the best of them, “We’re going now!” he grabbed Rio’s sleeve and kept running, charging for the truck that waited just down the street. “Not the axe!!!” he tried to stop Rio from throwing what had been a $250 investment in a hand-forged Swedish axe but it was far too late. “Yeah that’s Bertha but we’ll mourn her later. Everyone in!!!” Winston threw up a truly impressive magical flashbang grenade and Ricky started up the truck, “Everyone in?! Sound off quick cuz I’m about to floor it and I don’t wanna leave anyone in the dust.”

Apparently he wasn’t the only one with tricks up his sleeve. Harsh made a mental note to ask about that when they weren’t being chased by some kind of horrific spider mime or whatever the hell that thing was. He wasn’t really in the mood to stop to get a better look. On Winston’s command, he ducked, throwing up a hand in front of his eyes, shielding them from the worst of the light. “Not bad,” he noted before grabbing Winston again, half lifting, half dragging them to the truck. Offering an arm, he boosted Winston into the truck before throwing himself in behind them. “We’re here, let’s move!” The flash had definitely thrown the whatever-it-was for a loop, and he couldn’t imagine the crash of the axe had gone unnoticed either, but sticking around to make sure was not high on his list of priorities.

Orion made a beeline back to the truck after throwing the axe and jumped for it, missing the door and smacking into the side of the truck. “Ow.” Rio ring out before correcting himself and climbing into it. Ricky peeled onto the road once everyone was in. “Oh god oh god I can’t believe we just did that.” He was breathing heavily and staring at the ceiling of the truck to try to calm himself down. “I’m sorry about your axe” Rio apologized to Ricky, trying to connect the dots from what they had found. Had they even found anything? “What was in there? I never even saw it.”

Shuddering gently, Winston settled in next to Ricky and sighed as they drove off into the night. “That was enlightening, obviously whatever it is that is causing this seems to be coming from the restaurant itself…” Winston frowned and tried not to think about whatever that thing was. It seemed to have gotten somehow more dangerous. “As for whatever that was, I don’t know, but I sure as hell don’t want to find out.”

#para #p: harsh #p: orion #p: ricky #wickedswriting #chatzy para #chatzy #as mime goes by

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wordsandrambling · 5 years

Text

You’re across from me and laughing at something on your phone, and then you tilt it to show me. As you move your hair falls over one shoulder and you tuck it behind your ear absentmindedly. I look for a little too long. You lean back into your seat, an armchair that’s probably over 100 years old. Around us, others laugh and talk, and a barista calls out someone’s name. you look back at your computer, so I look at mine.

“I’m going on a trip next week. Only for a few days, but apparently its important,” you tell me over the top of your laptop. Your eyes leave the screen for half a second, then you look back down as a notification appears. You groan. “Dan just emailed. He recons its something to do with our talents.”

I make a face while you type up a response, then say, “You could always not go. Stay here with me instead. We can watch TV and make mac and cheese not think about talents at all.”

That gets a snort out of you. “But if we don’t think about talents then how are you going to be able to carry all the mugs of hot chocolate in for us?” you joke.

“I’ll wear oven mitts. For the pretence, you know, and maybe I can even wince a bit if I spill anything on myself. Really put a show on.”

You grin, but it quickly fades.

“As much as I’d love to spend several days watching shitty chick flicks with you, honey, you know I can’t say no to this trip. I’d lose my job.”

I nod, and look back down at my computer, and so you do the same.

----

“No, I’m sure- your wifi, this hotel is too posh for- have bad connection,” you say, voice cutting out every few seconds. My screen is frozen on a still of you grinning at the camera, and I’m tempted to take a screenshot. I have a whole album on my phone dedicated to shitty photos of you, and I remember the first time you saw it, you laughed so hard you cried, and I remember thinking nothing in life could beat that sound. I hum in vague agreement with what you said, and you suddenly come to life again on my computer.

You suddenly look sombre. “I think I need to go soon, but before I do, I need to tell you something.”

My stomach flips, and I reach instinctively for my soulmark, then catch myself and instead brush my hair our of my face. In 12 years of friendship, you have never seen my mark and I’ve never seen yours. I think I like it that way. At least like this, I can fool myself its you, even though the chances are almost non-existent. Even though you wouldn’t feel the same way even if our marks were from each other.

“Al, it’s Dan,” you say. For a second, my heart drops, until I remember that Dan only has one soulmark and he’s already found her. I ask you what you mean.

“I mean,” you explain, “I’m scared for him. He’s getting brighter.”

“Oh god,” I say, because that’s all I can say. I’m reminded again why you hate your talent so much, because your talent is that. The first time you described it to me, it sounded a little ridiculous, but then we were in that café during our weekly meet up and you could barely look at this woman, she was so bright, and then she dropped dead right there. A heart attack, the paramedics told us. I remember how shocked you were, and how right after it happened you kept blinking as if someone had just turned off all the lights.

When you speak next, I can hear a slight tightness in your voice.

“Yeah, and fast as well.”

There’s nothing I can say that will help, because we both know there’s no avoiding the truth, so I just put my fingers up to my screen as if I could reach through it and get to you. You do the same and I can almost feel your fingertips on mine.

I hear a door open, and then Dan’s voice off camera. He says hi and you look up and immediately flinch and tear your hand away from the screen to cover your eyes.

Dan chuckles. “what, am I that ugly?” he jokes. Dan, who doesn’t know what your talent is. Dan, who’s now bright enough to make you look away.

He continues as if nothing is wrong. “Anyway, I was thinking of going to get some lunch and wondered if you were hungry. Just because I think there’s a pretty great place along-“

An alarm starts somewhere in your building and I see your eyes widen in fear.

“Huh,” he says, “I think that’s the fire alarm.”

“We have to get out of here now,” you tell him, and he says he needs to get his phone from his room. You can’t even look at him as you tell him there’s no time.

I take a screenshot of the both of you standing there together, and then I say goodbye because you need to hang up and when I try to tell you both I love you, my throat closes up. In the end, the words come out forced and strangled, and he looks at me weirdly for a second and then says he loves me too and he’ll talk to me later. Right before you hang up, I think I see a tear on your cheek but I can’t tell for sure because you’re moving the fastest you’ve ever done. Maybe you think if you can get out of there quickly enough, he’ll get darker again. Maybe you’re just trying to distract yourself from the inevitable.

I lie back on my bed and try not to think about what possibly could be happening where you are, and fail, and then tears come and fill my lungs and heart and I’m sinking down and down and I can’t really tell if I’m breathing. The room gets darker, eventually, and after that everything is blank but after a while I wake up and the memory winds me like a punch to the throat. I sit there for a while, staring at my wall, and then I reach for my phone and call his soulmark.

---

There’s a lot of in-between time, after that. Time where I’m not quite asleep but being awake is too hard, time where I wander aimlessly around my house, leaving unfinished cups of tea on whatever surface is nearest at any given time. The first couple days were the worst, where I heard nothing from you and was left wondering what had happened. We don’t really know if you can see brightness on yourself, and I had feared the worst. You texted, after a while, just enough to tell me you had made it and Dan had not. I send back the most comforting message I can, and you read it but don’t respond, and then I sit in my room with the curtains drawn and think about all the inside jokes that I am now the only one in the entire world who understands, and all the memories that are solely mine now. I call my mum, but I’m too tired to talk long so she hangs up to let me sleep and I cry instead.

After a week of radio silence, you text me to say you’ll be back in another eight days because things have been delayed. This time, when I text you back, you read it and respond with a heart.

---

The airport is crowded, and a man shoves his way past me but he’s muttering something about being late for a flight so I let it go and instead stand on my tiptoes, craning my neck to try to see you over the mass of people. I can see others, presumably from your flight, coming out from behind a pair of white doors, all with tired eyes and messy hair. When someone sees someone waiting to pick them up, they seem to grow a couple inches, and a smile appears on even the most annoyed faces.

Right after a big family with at least five children walk through the doors, I see you, dragging your suitcase behind you. I can tell when you see me because you lift your hand to wave, and you looks so alone and so beautiful that something breaks inside me because suddenly I’m running towards you and in the back of my mind I’m thinking that security probably doesn’t like running that much, but I don’t care because now you’re running too, and when we reach each other you wrap your arms around my waist and half collapse into me, burying your head in my shoulder. I throw my arms around you just as fiercely and we stay like that, clinging to each other, until you stop shaking and almost everyone else from your flight is long gone.

---

This time, we’ve managed to secure a place in the corner of the café, away from the usual mild chaos that happens in the early afternoon. You have a large ring binder open in front of you, and I have a book on my lap, although we’re both not paying any attention to either of them.

“I just keep thinking that if I had done something else he could have made it,” you tell me. I nod.

“Same. I mean, I could have come with you on the trip. I’m heatproof, I would have been fine. I could have helped.”

You sigh, then say, “There was no reason for you to come along. And besides, the smoke is the actual problem, not the fire.”

“And you can’t change whether someone goes bright. It’s not your fault,” I reply. You don’t say anything for a while, then you ask me to pass you the tea. I do, accidentally spilling some on my hand in the process.

You smile while handing me a napkin, and say, “Clumsy much, sands?”

A small area on my right arm immediately goes numb, and then there’s the same sensation as when you put your hands under freezing water and for a moment you can’t tell whether it’s hot or cold. I stop moving completely for a second, then sink back in my chair in a way that I hope looks casual. You give me a questioning look that I pretend I don’t see.

“That’s a new nickname, is it?” I ask. You look at me strangely, so I continue, “I don’t think I’ve heard it before, is all. And, you hadn’t come up with any new ones in a while, I was wondering if you had run out of creativity.”

“Hey, you know I’ll never run out of nicknames for you, dumbass.”

“I like that one less than the others,” I comment.

You throw your napkin at me and call me an idiot, and I think ‘I love you’, but instead I ask you if you’re talking about yourself. You laugh and I think you laughing is the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen, except then you make a silly face and I think the same thing about that too, so maybe I’m just a little biased. Even before my mark burned, I couldn’t imagine loving anyone but you like this, and maybe one day I’ll tell you that, but for now I cross my legs and sit back and watch as you blow a strand of hair out of your face, and I think, god, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and I start to hurt a little less.

---

When I get home, I stand in front of my mirror, staring at the bold print on my arm and think about how your voice sounded saying it. Then, I call my sister, and scream into the phone and she asks what’s going on and if I’m ok and when I tell her what happened, she screams back. I had always hoped it would be you, but you call people nicknames with the reckless abandon of someone who’s already found their soulmark, or who has no soulmark at all, and I had assumed I would never get that particular wish of mine. There’s nothing for sure saying I have to be your mark as well, but its more likely than not, and when I remind my sister of this, I tell her that I expect nothing, that I’m happy enough with having you as my mark, because that’s true. She calls me an idiot and says that there’s no way I’m not your soulmark, and in that moment, I believe her.

---

I can hear the pounding of music from inside the building as I stand waiting in line, and I wonder how you managed to talk me into this. Both of us would prefer to stay home and watch a movie or play a board game together than to go out for the night, drinking and clubbing. Nevertheless, here we are. Your hair is drawn up in a ponytail that falls over one shoulder, and I want to lean forward and push a stray strand of hair out of your face but I don’t.

We stand for a while, waiting and chatting, although there are slightly awkward silences where comfort usually lies. Eventually, the line shifts forward and we enter the club. My eyes take a moment to adjust to the dark of the room, and when I look over, you gesture to the bar before starting to make your way towards it through the crowd. I follow you, and you buy us both a drink which I hold because I don’t want to be rude, but I don’t drink anything from it. You lean back against the bar, and my eyes catch on the curve of your shoulder. I see your jaw clench as a light flashed over us.

A pretty girl comes up to you and you buy her a drink. She has dark hair and glitter around her eyes. Her hand curls around your forearm. I turn to look into the crush of people and wonder how long I have to stay. You tap my arm. When I look over, you gesture to the dancefloor and then the girl, and send me a questioning look. I nod, so you grab her hand to pull her into the crowd. I tilt my head back and take a big drink of whatever it is that you bought me, then try to convince myself the burning behind my eyes is from the alcohol.

The sign for the toilet is a burning light compared to the rest of the building. Inside, there’s a group of drunk people laughing, and one girl is leaning heavily against the person she’s with, makeup brush in hand. In one bathroom stall, a man hold back the hair of someone making horrific sounds in the general direction of the toilet bowl. I stumble into another stall and lock the door. I see you, pressed against her, and then you with her hand on your waist. You bring your hand up to tangle in her hair and she presses even closer to you. I shake my head and instead imagine your legs draped across my lap and your arms around my neck but then it’s you and her with your lips on her neck and her fingers on the small of your back. I put my hand on the word etched into my arm, and think about how you must not have a matching one. A smile is on your face as she presses her lips to yours. I feel a salty dampness on my cheek.

Suddenly, the sounds from outside get louder again, and then a door slams and everything goes back to muffled dullness. There’s something familiar, although for a second I don’t realise what, until it registers that I’m hearing my own name. I unlock the stall door and push it open to see you. You’re shaking and there’s black tear marks down your face.

“Can we go?” you ask. I reach out as if to touch your cheek, but then stop myself.

“The lights are scaring me. They keep landing on people and- can we go?” you repeat. I must have nodded, because next thing I know we’re in a taxi. You’re staring out of the window at the passing buildings. Your hair is mussed, but not terribly, and one of your dress straps has slipped off one shoulder. There’s a small collection of glitter next to one eye.

The taxi stops, and you get out and walk to the door of my flat in a daze, so I pay the fare and thank the driver. I unlock the door, and we wander into the kitchen, scattering shoes and bags around the flat as we go.

---

Neither of us drank much, and so after some burnt popcorn and several mugs of hot chocolate, we begin to return to normal. You’re sat on my kitchen counter with your legs crossed in front of you, so I climb up too and pull my knees up to my chest.

“Would you feel it,” you ask into the silence, “if someone did say it?”

I think I know what you’re talking about, but I send you a questioning look anyway. My heart begins to beat faster in my chest.

“I mean, you’re burn proof, right? What if it didn’t burn you?” You look devastated, although I don’t know why. I sigh.

“I think it wouldn’t matter. I’m not going to fall for someone just because of a name. I want to care about a person, not a tradition.”

If anything, you look even closer to tears.

“BUT,” you say, and I wince at the volume even though you’re probably more sensitive to loud noises than me at the moment, so you apologise before continuing.

“But,” you repeat, “what happens if you like a person but you don’t feel it burn?”

There’s a long silence before I say, “It burned.”

“Oh.”

I’m looking anywhere but your face, and in the corner of my eye I can see you doing the same.

“Who-“

“Please don’t ask me that,” I interrupt.

I can hear you sniffing softly, but I don’t know what to do so I just press my leg ever so slightly against yours.

“Mine is you, you know,” you tell me, and the whole world stops turning. “I didn’t want to tell you for the longest time because-“

I interrupt again. “Are you drunk still? At all?”

“No. Although I have no idea why I’m saying this sober.”

“Good.” I take a deep breath. My heart has decided to learn how to tap-dance. I lean closer to you and now I can see the faintest of freckles strewn across your nose. You’re perfectly still, and for a forever second, everything in the world stops.

“Are you drunk?” you breath. I can feel the words on my skin.

“Not even slightly.” Then I kiss you.

Everything about you is soft, and I put my hand on your waist because I want to. There’s a weight on my shoulders and I fee your arms wrap around my neck.

Eventually, I have to pull away because I’ve bent over myself to get to you, and my leg is numb. You let out a small laugh, and then I pull my sleeve up to show you my mark and you do the same. I shift my legs and you pull me back in again.

#my writing #love #bro!!! this is like #3282 words #pls love me bc this took So Long #also its not properly edited but u know what?#this was for fun & idc #pls appreciate this tho or i Will Cry #writing the end was like... GOD bro i want a PARTNER #also can u tell ive never #1- been to a club #2- kissed anyone #death tw

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