#She knows he thinks this and thus fully sits in a different row of a theatre

[rooolt]

Cracking myself by imagining the teens (including hermie) all hanging out and like going to the movies or something and norm forcing hero to come and drive them everywhere and Taylor convincing himself it is an elaborate triple date situation that just no one else is talking about

#He lives in levels of delusion I could only aspire to reach #Also in this scenario maybe oakworthy are dating and gothcleats definitely aren’t #Taylor’s just like “I guess they just haven’t mentioned it yet 🤷🏻‍♂️” #No one else knows he thinks this because it is arguably insane #Sorry Taylor’s crush on hero is so fucking funny to me I’m obsessed with it #She knows he thinks this and thus fully sits in a different row of a theatre #I want to eventually write a “beach episode” or something like that and this would be one of the jokes #dndads #dungeons and daddies

[dynananarmy]

REPUTATION|| Min Yoongi

Summary:

You were in the top. There was no person in the world who didn't know your name, either for your success or your reputation, believing that the only thing you should do is smile, be a good girl, don't force your opinions on people, and NOT for any reason deny the dating rumors. But then a gummy smile and a sweet accent came to change all your believe system, from a friends with benefits to falling in love, you encounter a new fear: would he love you despite your reputation

Pairings: Idol!Min Yoongi(SUGA) x singer!reader   

Warnings: distorted body image and unwarranted fear of gaining weight. Unhealthy habits like starvation, underage alcohol consuption. Mild smut and age gap (Yoongi is 25 and reader is 20) but everything is consensual). If i miss something please let me know.

Gorgeous

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along, oh

Anxiety was a familiar feeling, a daily occurrence even before you knew how to call it. The constant fear of making the wrong move, not filling everybody's expectations. But it never gets easier, walking a red carpet was nerve wracking at 20 like it was when you were 13, but expectations were higher, every single album need it to be different, different  sound, different style, you need it to be more mature but not to sexy because then you were to provocative for kids who follow you, but not to demure because then you are a prim. And then, you were too fat, and then too skinny, or you would have the nice flat stomach that people expect but you didn't have the hourglass figure. So everything you stand in an outfit risky enough for you, you would shake like a leaf, praying that the apple and the water that you had eaten would not somehow make you look bloated. That you contour was blended, that the powder under your eyes would not flash in camera. 

You were about to promote your second single of your album, a song who was for a ex manager and ended up seeing as a call out for war for a singer whom you were friends but ended up splitting ways when she started dating an ex boyfriend, an ex boyfriend that you don't actually love but it was still awkward going out with the new girlfriend of your ex. Your team takes it as publicity, even if there was not an actual feud, good or bad, publicity is publicity, and so the music video only seems to spark even more fire. Still you invited all of your friends, friends that you met through other friends, in fashion shows or while performing in lingerie runways, the kind of friends that you partied with in your mansion in Coney Island or the one in Malibu. But that only sends a spark of worry, appearing in a music video with models with perfect bodies only makes you even more insecure about your own, and you were scared about what people would think about it.

A tug in your arm pulled you out of the dazed of the camera's flash and your thoughts, Calum King was a producer, a handsome embodiment of masculinity, a strong build body, a short beard, barely there but enough to let you know that he was a man. He was older than you by a lot, not enough to be scandalous but enough to raise a few eyebrows.

 He smile and you copied and hold his arm to the cameras, the lady assisting the red carpet gesture you to move and once you were out of the sight of the camera you let a shaky breath a pound in the head and the emptiness of your stomach make you feel dizzy and your publicist move quickly, holding a hard candy to you.

“Are you okay?” Calum asks, still holding you, you nod immediately and put the candy in your mouth.

“I´m good, the lights make me feel light headed but nothing that a little bit of sugar does´n fix” you say tasting the candy, feeling a little bit less tired, he nods but his sight was already far away from you. 

“Baby, i´m going to say hello to a few friends, I¨ll see you in our seats, okay?” He doesn't wait for an answer, his manager following behind, you let a sigh of relief, relieved that you don't have to keep pretending anymore, Calum and you met a few months ago while visiting a friend of your to the studio, a paparazzi saw you having coffee and after that you kept seeing each other, he would be your date in events and to the world, you were official, but you didn't even be intimate,barely hold hands while walking in the streets, or kiss each other more than a few pecks when winning a prize, but even that, it felt forced. Your publicist looks away from her phone to look at you and gives you an indifferent look.

“A new korean band is in here, apparently they are very famous and are contending against you for one of the awards, maybe you should go and see them so people see that you support new talents”

Curiosity sparks within you  “Korean band, is it BTS?” you asked, sipping your water you publicist arch an eyebrow

“Yes, did you know them?” she looks rarely interested, you nod reminiscing how  a few weeks ago you had stumbled on a fan edit of you and one of the members titled “1997 golden babies” seeing the dark haired boy dancing and performing with that much passion caught your attention, looking at his name and thus his group, fascinated enough that you had expend a few hour looking at the music videos and some of their performances, a bubble of excitement grew in your stomach making you feel energized again and you started to walk knowing your publicist was going to take you to them, skipping to some people you got to the corner where a group of at least 10 men stand, you immediately felt short and tiny and intimidated but you put your confident face and wait for your publicist to talk with one of the men, who yo assume was their manager, he look surprised and his gazed fall to you where you standing sandwiched between your bodyguards, he nod and went to say something to the remaining men 7 of them wipe their heads instantly to you and you smile, you make the remaining and they scatter in formation, pushing the taller men in front, he gives you a smile and flashed with a set of dimples.

“Hii, is so nice to meet you guys” You break the ice, you scanned every single one of them, from the tall broad shoulder one to Jungkook, the one of the edit and then your eyes fall to one of them, instantly draw for the way he looks at you, like he knew something your eyes goes back to the taller guy as he start to talk.

“It's so incredible to meet, we are big fans of your music” he says, you had heard that a lot but he sound genuine and the rest of the boy nodded, your eyes went back to the guy with the feline eyes and you see something that you had seen before but rarely from another artist, admiration, but also understanding, like he understanded something and he was fascinated by it. 

“Are you performing tonight?” you asked trying to shake the feeling that he was reading you like a book he understands the language. 

“Ummm, no, not tonight, hopefully someday”  he looked a little ashamed but that only made you feel more admiration for them, they are escalating little by little.

“Id watched some of your performance” a chorus of ¨whoas¨ breaks their silence and you smile wider “You would have made us look like kids beside you, you are truly amazing” you compliment, the words flooding with ease, all of them let a ¨thank you¨ and when you meet eyes with the feline eyed boy he gives you the most beautiful and shy gummy smile, something inside you felt warm and fuzzy and you enjoy it so much that you wish it never went away. Your publicist asked for a picture and you stand with them.

The flash was quick, you changed the pose and at the same time you felt a delicate brush of fingers in your back. Tingles run down your spine and your hair stands, how was it possible that a man could make you feel that way without talking, without knowing him? You didn't even know his name, or how he was, he could be an asshole. 

The camera stop flashing and the warm fingers leave your trembling body (you didn't know if it was of starvation or the adrenaline running through your veins) You look at him, the man with the gummy smile, cat-like eyes and the rose petal lips, he bow and you did the same as a reflex, that make him smile fully and the giddy, warm feeling bubble in your stomach all the way up your chest. You broke eye contact and with warm cheeks you went to hug the taller guy hugging all of them (not without almost melting in gummy smile boy, and breathing deeply his mainly citrus smell).

Your entrance was cut out by your manager, who led you backstage and you hope you bump into them, to talk to him, to hear him and let his fingers pay with your skin, but you were immediately trap in the changing room pulling other set of clothes and when you get out your publicist was waiting with a mint and a glass of ice you chew while letting the makeup artist  retouch your makeup.

You had already stood up 5 times to receive an award and Top Social Artist was the last nomination before going to change for your performance. Sitting on the front row with Calum on your side being the perfect supporting boyfriend and with Zendaya on the other side beside her a bunch of other models friends, big names in the industry who appeared in the music video that had already premiered a few awards ago. And although you should've be worried if you would win the category you were already seeing black spots, nausea and heavy eyelids accompanying, and sitting beside with the most beautiful, tallest, slimmest, women of the moment didn't make you feel better, you could barely hear anything but the sound of blood pumping through your ears but after hearing your name and the loud cheers of your fans a smile appear in your clammy face, you wonder if you could even stand to get  the award if you win, a louder cheer broke in the arena and looking to the screen you saw the south korean band announced and when it disappears it took a few seconds for the screams to stop, the announcers opened the envelope, two seconds of silence in the speakers and then...“BTS!” You jump clapping finding strength out of nowhere and with a smile you saw the band walk in front of your eyes with wide eyes, open mouth and smiles, a single hand sticking out for you and knowing who it was you brush his hand with yours. 

Then you turn back and with a bodyguard in front and another in your heels, you walk into the main stage of the arena. 

Everything was blurry, you followed the guard into the hallway and crouched to get in the elevator, holding the mic and letting your head go over the choreography. And when the voice in your in ear says “one”you feel the lift move and stand.You felt like you were going to faint, but still make your moves as smooth as possibly, it felt like forever but when you give the final move and look at the camera you give the most convincing smile ever. Wait for the count to end and the light to ade out to let your body fall to the ground. But the light did not fade, and the camera was still on you. 

The host appeared to your side to announce that your music had already broken a record and that you had won another 2 awards. You accept the award and let the host hug you and unintentionally your body stumbles, your eyes give a turn and feel almost lost conscious.“It's okay” you said to the man and pulled out with a smile, looking to the worried crowd,”It's okay” you repeat in the mic ” I very excited, to be here and to win this awards, thank you to everybody that make this possible, my fans, my family, my team, everybody that listen my music and the art i make, thank you so much, i love you” You said, making well rehearsed words leave your mouth, you leave following the lady with the awards, numb. 

The act seemed innocent and so quickly and random that nobody should have noted, but it set something, pieces clicking in place, for you felt illicit, scandalous, it ignited something that you have never let your body cave in, lust. A sin so impure that only thinking about it makes you flustered, but it only took a couple of glances, some brushes of skin and a hug for you to continue the seduction game he started. And you wanted him to win, to ditch all the circus and let him take you to the hotel, seeing him all in black contrasting with his soft creamy skin, a fallen angel.  

Wanting to feel something, did you deserve the awards? Your music had moved so much from your original goal that  you barely felt it was good. So you didn't feel proud, and you did not feel happy, or sad, or angry. You felt hungry, and tired.

 How dare he be so cool? With the glinting earrings and the necklaces and the deep voice and side smile, a dream, you never thought he was just your type. Was it possible for you to have him? A quick internet research let you know his name, his position on the group and his age, he was a little over five years older than you, younger than your “exes” but so much different, he felt real, a real man, but at the same time he was surreal, to perfect,  to gorgeous. And you wanted to know all about him.

You sit alone in the buffet of your hotel, with other people who also went to the awards, munching on a chicken salad with some delicious sauce and bread sticks and a glass of orange juice. Your orange juice, of course, was spiked with alcohol by your manager, a way to make you last giggly and awake for the rest of the night. Feeling already full with your second plate and with already a certain amount of alcohol in your system, you felt better, enough to keep looking at the table in front of you. Where 7 boy sit holding a camera laughing at one of them knocking the glass with the camera gummy smile boy who had, just like you, been looking at you smile with you and you hold the big stack of tissues at him, he walk to you and brushing fingers he take it from your hands “thanks” he said with a deep voice, one that you had already heard in his music videos but never compared to the real thing.

It took you 30 minutes to shower, dry your hair, put light makeup and a flowy black dress, that fall above your knees, do a quick google research of what to expect at losing your virginity and chugging the mini bottle of wine of your mini fridge, cleaning all of the clothes on the bed and quickly fix it. And when you thought that he wouldn't come a knock was heard. You look for the last time in the mirror and open the door.

 And he was there, his hair now completely straight  and soft looking and his face was bare, no necklace and simple cotton shirt and black cargo pants. Like he couldn't be more gorgeous.  Oh wait, he could, looking at you with the damn smile. “Hi” you said, already losing the game “Hi”, deep voice and cute accent, you can't help but giggle, boozing  alcohol in your veins.

“Please, please come in” You open the door all the way “ I´m y/n, by the way” you said and he looks at you, “I know, I´m Yoongi” he says laughing “I know” you respondHe lifted an eyebrow “you do?” he said with a smug smile, “of course i know, i'm not that  dump to hook up with a guy i don't even know the name of” you widen your eyes and blame the alcohol by your blunt remark, but feel relieved when he laughs. He let you lead the way to the living room and when he sits on the couch he notices the object on the coffee table, an unopened copy of BTS 'latest album you had.

They said goodbye and you broke contact, gulping the last of your orange juice and immediately got replaced, you looked back at your manager and publicist, talking to their manager, using the translator that look flustered, and you knew why, after yourself had talked with your manager about your request, voice confident but cheeks flushed, your manager didn't even had to approach BTS manager before he was already on his way, at that you felt a weird feeling, a territorial frown in your eyes, but you couldn't blame him. Every celebrity you have met has done this.  A simple deal, a way for celebrities to keep their affairs as private and publicly clean, both sides agreed to keep it quiet and not slip ups. When they finally look at you, turn again to him, his manager walking to him, and slipping a black plastic card. A key to the room to one of the suites. Your suite.

“I thought you could signed for me” you explained with a shy tone “I found it on the airport bookstore and since i kinda collect music album i thought it was a nice addition” 

He grabbed it “can i open it?”  he said with the cute accent, you nod excited and he carefully start to unwrap you sit by his side to get a better look, when he finished it, he looks at you

 “it has a photocard” he explains and you giggle again at the way he pronounce the last word, feeling the warm feeling in your stomach and he send your favorite smile at you.He opens the book and stop at the page with the card stuck to it “It's random so is a surprise, go, turn it around” he gesture to the book, you grab it and turn it around,

 “Oww” you let out a disappointed sound when you look at the man that clearly wasn't your Min Yoongi, he laughs and you pout “what can i do if i want one of you?” you ask with a distressed look. He dares to look flustered and he reach to his neck and the his hair, you wanted yours in its place, you licked your lips and look at lis face, “You could buy lots of album until mine come out” hmmm

“That's a good idea” his stare became intense and his eyes darken, his tongue brushed his bottom lip and someone must move forward because your lips replaced his tongue was now kissing his lips. 

Your fingers grab his shirt while his palms was cupping your cheeks, thumb brushing against it, the darkest desires in your mind, the need to be touch to be taken care of,taking his hand in yours you put it on your thigh, where your dress had lift and he complied to your silent request, pushing the fabric up and caressing your skin, but not where you need it him.

 You lean in the couch bringing him with you, but he pull from the kiss, leaving you gasping, “are you sure?” he ask, with his soft, dark eyes, lips swollen and flushed cheeks, you nod, but he shakes his head “are you sure?” he repeats, you think for a second looking at your giddy, boozy brain, “yes, i'm sure” you said with the most confident voice you could muster, he kiss you again and then its your turn to pull away from the kiss ”wait, wait, i,  i haven't, i never have i ever before, i mean, i never had done this before” you confess and he looks at you still panting, he nods, and ask again “are you sure?” and you are.

He didn't let you lay in the couch.

He let you run your fingers through his torso and take his shirt off.

You let him pull down the strips of your dress.

He let you know how much he desires you.

You let him touch for the first time against the wall, making you see stars and blow away in a climax.

He takes to the bed, carrying like you were a leaf.

You let him stole sweet moans out of your mouth

He takes it slowly, touching skin like you were fine china.

You feel like a confident woman when you whisper “you are so gorgeous, I can say anything to your face.”

He lets a deep chuckle and gives a deep thrust making you scream of pleasure.

A mix of sloppy kisses, discreet love bites, nails against skin and pasional hip thrust between the sheets you let yourself think for a second that is not a one time thing, that euphoric feeling you were experimenting and that it was the most happy you had been in years was going to finish the moment he finish panting against your neck.

You tried to not look disappointed when he stood up and walked to the bathroom, closing your eyes, letting yourself feel the remnants of your climax.

He came back a few minutes later, cleaning between your legs and leaving a soft kiss in your thigh before slipping your underwear in its place, holding you in his arms.

You cried for the first time in front of a person. 

He tells you that he knew you were hungry, he had felt it before. Not by his own choice.

You tell him about the empty feeling in your stage while on stage.

He kisses your face while rubbing circles in your back.

  When the morning sun came up you watched his sleeping figure, his back up and belly down, face facing you and his arm around you.

You mindlessly start writing invisible letters, your name. Wishing he could be more than a stranger.

He lets you a note. His number. Breakfast. And a single pink flower and a book from the souvenir store “ The meaning of flowers”

Azalea

 The azalea is the flower that ushers in springtime in the southern United States. That’s one reason it’s so closely associated with beauty and rebirth. 

These blooms are often given as a symbolic message to, “Take care of yourself,” which is an important sentiment to extend to the bereaved.

Little-Known fact:

 Azaleas are celebrated in festivals throughout the world, especially the U.S. and Asia. In Chinese culture, the azalea is known as the “thinking of home bush” and was immortalized in the poetry of a famous poet during the Tang dynasty.

HIIIIIIIIII

SO 

I FINISH THIS CHAPTER

It took years, but my mental health has been bad lately and also was hard to write the first meeting, if it look to rushed, dont worry its kinda the point, they are not in love but definetly know that they felt something. But they dont know each other,  i like to think of them as soulmates. 

We see how she was physically and mentaly hitting rock bottom and her team is not as innocent as it look.

If i was vague about everything, when the managers were talking, they were basically negociating the one night stand, that way the public wouldnt found out. A normal ocurrence in this AU.

Everything you feel courius about, please let me know.

Thank you so much for reading, i love you

#bts #bts smau #min yoongi #yoongi x reader #yoongi smau #bts fic #bts yoongi #bts social media au #bts social au #bts idol #bts jhope #bts namjoon #BTS jin #BTS jimin #bts taehyung #BTS jungkook #reputationminyoongi

[sirthisisa-wendys]

Final Exams: Geto Suguru x Fem!Reader

synopsis: you can't fail your Medieval Art and History final. You just can't.

wc: 1.3 k

tw: NSFW

A Grand 300 Celebration Fic

Your sighs are bothering him.

Geto is fully aware that you’re bored as you eye the clock in the classroom, but he can’t focus on his grading when you’re sitting there, wondering when the class will end while rubbing your thighs together anxiously.

It’s just the other students, you, and him today since the professor is out sick, and Geto’s the TA responsible for making sure the class took the final exam. But when you raise your hand - thus, catching his attention - he groans internally, knowing your question before you spoke it.

“Can we leave if we’re done early?” you wonder, closing your laptop. It was no secret that you were the professor’s favorite student, and if you had asked her, she would have said yes to your request. But Geto frowns, looking over his own laptop with a dissatisfied gaze.

“Ms. L/N, it appears that you failed the final. I would recommend taking it again.” The class is shocked into stillness, and you frown. There was no way you failed the final. You knew everything there was to know about the Baroque period, and no one could contest your vast knowledge of the different paintings and musical elements from that era. But Geto knew something you didn’t: you couldn’t see your score after you took the test. But he could.

He soaks in the crestfallen look on your face and turns back to entering the grades without another word. For the rest of the class, you took your time, reanswering each question and flipping through your notes eagerly, hoping to find the mistakes in your answers.

“How did I do this time?” you wonder, approaching his desk with a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Ms. L/N, you’re rushing. I mean, these are easy answers… Take it again,” Suguru sighs, and you walk back to your row, confusion marrying your perfect features. He hated doing this to you, but he couldn’t just let you walk out of the class in that perfect skirt with your perfect legs.

Today, you would be the last to leave the class. And his office.

When the bell chimes, everyone in the class gets up to leave, but you stay behind, focusing on the questions with precision. You’ve even started muttering to yourself, which is something you only do when you’re trying to focus all of your energy on a task.

“Mr. Geto, can I have a few more minutes?” you ask as he’s packing his things up and about to leave the room without you.

“Come to my office and I’ll let you continue taking it there. They have another lecture in this classroom.” You follow him out into the hallway, remembering the winding path to the TA’s offices, and into his minimalistic office. He shuts the door behind you, and you take your place in the seat in front of his desk, opening your laptop again.

“I really can’t fail this,” you murmur. Any poor grade would drop you from an A to a B, and you couldn’t have that. Not as a freshman.

“Listen,” Geto mutters, sliding his glasses off. “You just need to go slower with these quizzes. I know Professor Yuki favors you, but you can’t rely on being the teacher’s pet all the time.”

“I’m not--”

“Besides, after the third try, you’ll have to put in a request for a retake, and that could take us a few days to accept.”

“Wait, what did I make this time?”

“A 69.”

“Huh?” You shoot up from your chair, and place your hands on the desk, frowning deeply. “I really can’t--”

“I do have something that might help you…” Geto rummages through his desk, looking for something specific. When he tosses the foil wrapper on the desk, you do a double-take, then look up at his face.

“Seriously?” He raises a brow, then turns to his computer screen.

“I mean, a full scholarship is a lot of money, y/n. I would think you’d be willing to do anything to keep it.”

“And what will you change my grade to if I do this?” you wonder, examining his face cautiously. He smiles slyly, his black eyes roaming over your chest.

“You’ll pass this class with an A-plus.”

Without any further questions, you strip down to your underwear and bra while Geto locks the door, undoing his tie and unbuttoning the top four buttons on his shirt as he walks back over to you. He cups your face with his large palm and kisses your cheeks tenderly before ghosting his lips over yours, then swiping his tongue over your bottom lip. He bites it, then wraps his hands around your back to unhook your bra quickly. It falls to the ground unceremoniously, and he takes one breast in each hand, tugging at your nipples, then palming them thoroughly.

“You’re so fucking hot,” he breathes, and you moan in response, wanting him to hurry up so you wouldn’t miss your chemistry lecture. But it seems he wants just a little more than a quickie as he pushes you down to your knees. He unbuckles his belt, and slides his pants down, revealing his erection in one smooth motion. When you take his length into your hands, you look up at him and lick down his shaft, making Geto shudder. “The way your eyes get darker when you get aroused is making me lose my mind.”

You hum and then take him into your mouth, feeling the smooth skin and veins against your wet tongue. You worked him into your mouth slowly, and when he reaches the back of your throat, he groans loudly, holding the back of your head gently as he fucks your face. “Fuck,” he breathes, and saliva trickles out of your mouth as he continues, the wet sounds making your cunt get warmer and slicker. You take one hand from his thighs and rub yourself over your panties, hoping you could get yourself off a little while he ravaged your throat. You breathe through your nose easily, and Suguru finally lets you go, pulling all the way out. A trail of spit follows from your lips to his cock and you inhale deeply, still rubbing away at yourself.

“Beautiful,” Suguru whispers, then pulls you up to a standing position and leans you over the desk. He rolls down your underwear and mutters, “Spread your legs.” You do so immediately and feel his fingers at your waiting entrance. “Pass me the condom, baby.” You obey, then rest your breasts on the cold wood of his desk, goosebumps running down your arms and legs. When he presses into you, you stifle a loud groan; the tension of him trying to work himself past your walls absolutely overwhelming. “That’s it…” he drawls, moving in and out of you lazily. Despite wearing a condom, you can feel every single ridge and bump of Suguru’s thick cock inside of you, and it’s driving you insane. You eagerly thrust your hips back, and he meets you halfway, holding your hips as you’re fucked into oblivion.

At some point during your session with the TA, you feel the familiar tingle of an orgasm about to rip through you, and your hands fly to your clit as he pounds into you. “I’m gonna…” you pant, and Suguru nods behind you, his hair coming loose and dangling around his face messily.

“I can feel it, baby. Go ahead.” Your knees buckle slightly as you give in to your unspoken desire, and he grabs your hips a little harder. “I’m right behind you,” he chokes out, then presses his lips together as he comes, shaking as his strokes slow to a gentle pulsating motion. After a moment of resting, he pulls out of you and takes the condom off, tossing it into the trash can and crumpling up a few papers to hide it. As he puts his clothes back on, you do the same, pushing your hair back and adjusting your shirt before going behind his desk and looking at the computer.

“Three one-hundreds,” you announce, and Geto shrugs.

“Hey, you said you wanted to roleplay.”

“But did you have to embarrass me in front of the whole class?” Suguru laughs, tying his tie back on.

“You said roleplay, babe. You get what you ask for.”

_____________________________________________________________ TAGLIST: @brownskinnedgirll @jotazinha @leanne-tamashi @amaris9 @vabybizzle @missbonekitty @fyotituti

#jujutsu kaisen getou #getou x reader #geto x reader #geto suguru #jjk geto #geto #jujutsu kaisen #geto smut #getou suguru x reader

[apenapaperandadoofus]

Imaginary (Jumin x MC)

Chapter one here!

(Also to explain something! Both Bada and Eun are random characters I made up, I like to think that the island was already inhabited by some people, and that Jumin’s father bought part of it, in Saeran’s Normal End, he and MC talk about how the locals are all nice and stuff, so I wanted to add something like this here :D, OH AND! These are the sort of edited chapters, I will post the fully edited ones in AO3!)

AND feedback is greatly appreciated! Sorry if this one was kinda short! Next chapter we WILL get some cute kiddo Jumin, I promise :P

Chapter 2

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.

.

In the end you weren’t able to find the ghost. That week your mother had been leaving you with heavy amounts of homework, and you hadn’t been able to go outside since by the time you finished it was always too dark, and your mother was home. You were also tired from the amount of history dates and math formulas you had to learn. Your mother wasn’t going to let you fall behind all of your classmates, but she also took it a bit too far and made you study things that even they hadn’t even seen yet.

Thus, your search for the ghost was cancelled. You weren’t able to see Bada and Eun either, which sucked since their food was so delicious last time, and you really wanted some more. In the meantime though, you spent your days reading about ghosts, and how to capture them or see them.

You wanted so badly to find the ghost! But you didn’t have the time. The thing that made it worse was that you were sure there was someone there, you always saw a small shadow by the windows, but as soon as you tried to get closer, it disappeared.

One night, you laid in your bed, unable to sleep and thinking about the ghost. It was about 11pm, your mother was already sleeping and you were sure everyone on the island was too. It made you feel weird, thinking that maybe you were the only one awake. Still, you decided to do something.

Soemthing reckless.

Slowly, very, very slowly, you got out of your bed and put on some shoes that you had in your closet. Then, you grabbed your favorite sweater, and gently opened the sliding door in your room, that led to a little porch. You tiptoed and went down the stairs, quickly running towards the enormous mansion. It was way closer than you had actually thought, and you saw a fence that probably led to the backyard. The fence was tall, no way you could’ve climbed that thing.

But that wasn’t going to stop you.

Somehow you managed to get on top of the fence. It was pretty tall, but you found that if you climbed a tree, and then jumped off from there to the fence, maybe it could work.

It- it didn’t.

Well it did, but you landed on your face and you tried your best to hold back a cry. Still, not wanting to give up, you slowly stood up and walked into the garden.

You were trembling, afraid of the dark, and you were about to reach for your flashlight when you realized...that you hadn’t brought your flashlight.

Welp, you’re dead now, I guess.

You mentally slapped yourself and gulped. There was no one around, and who knows when an opportunity like this might come again? But at the same time, it was way too dark, and you were going to be looking for ghosts. That was way too scary, especially without a flashlight. Then, an idea popped into your head. How about, you go running to your house, quickly grab the flashlight and then come back? You were pretty fast, and you were sure the ghosts couldn’t have noticed your presence yet.

You quickly turned around to go, open the fence door and race to your home, when you heard some footsteps behind you. And you froze.

“Who are you?” A voice said. It sounded like it belonged to a boy, but you didn’t want to find out if that was true or not, and you didn’t even turn around as you let out a small scream. You quickly ran towards the door, struggling a bit to open it.

Fuck it was stuck.

You pushed and pushed, the sound of footsteps coming closer towards you, and a different deeper voice coming from inside the house. Finally, the door bulged and opened, and you took your chance to run away. You didn’t stop until you were safe, under your covers and with all your plushies surrounding you.

That was scary as fuck.

You weren’t able to sleep that night.

When your mother woke you up at 6am, you stared up groggily at her, and she scolded you about staying up late, and that no matter how tired you were, she wanted to see all your work done when she came home.

You of course, decided to leave at lunch time to go and talk with Eun and Bada. You hadn’t seen them in a while and you were actually pretty hungry, the only thing that your mother had left you was another container filled with spaghetti and you were honestly tired of eating it for both lunch and dinner four days in a row.

So, you took your leave and followed the little path towards the village, this time stopping to admire the whole place. The village was up on some mountains, so you were able to see the sea from up above. You could see some men in boats, carrying heavy bags filled with fish, and women with scuba diving equipment coming out of the water. Then, when you looked up towards the other mountain, you saw what looked like a temple. It was red and huge, and you made a mental note to ask both Eun and Bada about it.

Finally, you made it to their house, and you were about to knock on the door, when Bada suddenly opened it.

She was going to say something when she looked down at you and you gave her a big smile.

“Well look who’s back! If it isn’t our little explorer. Found anything interesting these past few days?” She asked, as she motioned for you to come inside. You replied to Bada that, yes you had actually found some very interesting things, but before she could reply Eun came out from the shower, her hair dripping wet, and singing some really catchy song in another language. Then she stopped, looked at you and squealed, running over and giving you a tight hug.

“Hey Y/N! How’s your little ghost adventure going? Come come, we were about to have some lunch, you came at the perfect time! Oh sir here! And tell me everything about it, I don’t want you to skip over any detail.” She gently shoved you into a chair and then gave you a plate full of some Korean dish you didn’t really know the name of, but looked absolutely delicious.

As the two women sat down in front of you, you explained your adventure with the ghost yesterday.

“There was really someone there! He even talked to me!” You said.

Eun raised and eyebrow and gave you a quizzical smile. “Really? Do you have any proof?”

You quickly stopped and became quiet. Dammit!

“I...I don’t have any yet! But, there really was someone there! Seriously! I just...I forgot to bring my camera....” you confessed.

“Well there you go! You need evidence if you want to convince us you know?”

“You mean convince you. I believe in ghost and I think it’s probable that Y/N saw one.” Badda said, as she glared at Eun.

“Ah Bada seriously! Listen kiddo, I will admit that ghosts are real if I actually get to see one. If you manage to give me evidence I’ll believe you, but for now you don’t have any proof.”

“I will get some! You’ll see!” You confidently said.

The rest of the evening passed by quickly, as Bada explained about the temple up in the mountain. Appears you it was a temple that was able to grant each person one wish.

After wards you thanked them for the food and then you quickly looked at your watch and let out a little yelp. “Oops! I have to go now! Thank you for the food, it was great!”

“Wait Y/N, what about my book? Have you-”

“BYE BADA!” You quickly said and left the house in a hurry before Bada could finish her sentence.

You could hear her grumbling and Eun laughing from the other side of the door and you smiled.

You were going to get that evidence!

You quickly went home, and then started working on your homework.

......

That day, as you stared at your blank notebook while sitting on your desk, you went through the events that had happened last night.

There was certainly a ghost there, maybe even two, since you had heard two people talking. The ghost knew you were already there though, and that would make things hard. So you decided to make up a plan to show Eun and Bada that you were telling the truth. You quickly grabbed your pencil and took off a blank page from your notebook.

Ghost hunting plan:

You wrote, and then you bit the end of your pencil as you thought about what to do.

First of all, you had to bring a flashlight. That was one of the things that was the most important. You weren’t going to deal with two ghosts, in the dark.

Second, you had to bring your camera. That was on the top of the priority list too, since you did need it to take a picture of the ghost.

Still...you were pretty shaken up from yesterday and you didn’t want to be completely alone.

What if you brought one of your favorite toys? No that would make the whole process of climbing the fence harder....and if you were to bring something else, it definetly had to be that book about ghosts. Somewhere in there had to be some sort of ritual or spell or something, that would protect you from ghosts. So you decided to bring it!

And hell, to do it that same night!

Satisfied with your plan, and now a bit more confident with everything, you started doing the homework you mother had left you. Normally you would leave it and do it at the last moment, but today you were inspired and you had to have everything ready for the ghost hunting trip!

When your mother came home she immediatly went to bed, taking your work and locking her door. You then did your normal bedtime routine, washing the dishes, brushing your teeth and taking a warm shower. But then, instead of going to sleep, you sat on your bed with the book in your hands, and you counted down till your mother was asleep.

It was about 10pm, you could hear your mother snoring al the way from her room, and you slowly stood up and grabbed your sweater, some sneakers, the flashlight, the camera and the book. Of course you couldn’t hold everything at once, so the book was in a tiny backpack, and the camera was hanging from your neck. Alright! You were now ready!

Slowly, you opened the sliding doors, and tiptoed out of the porch. You turned on your flashlight and began walking towards the mansion, your camera ready. The lens cap protector thing, was off, and you had night vision on, so you were pretty good!

You finally made it towards the fence, and managed to climb it, this time without falling flat on your face. You gave a little victory dance as you looked around the garden.

It was...really beautiful.

The garden was filled with all kinds of flowers, purple, yellow, red, blue, and there were the bushes you had always heard about! One was in the shape of an elephant, the other one was in the shape of a horse and on and on. In the center of the garden, there was a huge fountain, that was turned off at the moment, which was a bit disappointing. There was also a stone path, that went all around the garden and then probably led somewhere inside the house.

You stood there for a bit, admiring the view. Yesterday was so dark, and you were so scared that you hadn’t been able to see anything. But tonight the moon was out, shining brightly and illuminating everything in front of you. It was beautiful.

Then, you heard some footsteps, and you quickly hid behind a bush. That’s right, you were here looking for a ghost, not to gape at that wonderful garden!

Dammit Y/N, pull yourself together! You thought, as you tried to figure out where the footsteps were coming from. You cowered a bit as they came closer and closer, almost in front of you. You slowly peeked from behind the bush, and saw a silhouette.

A boys silhouette to be more precise. He looked to be around your age, and he was wearing blue stripped pijamas, his hair all messy on top of his head. It was clear he had just woken up, and was looking for something...or for someone.

You.

Drat! You thought. The ghost of the little boy already knew you were going to come back again! Maybe you should have waited a few days before coming back, but you were just so impatient.

Anyway, you had to make up a plan. You had left the fence door open in case you needed to make an impromptu escape, and you gave yourself a pat in the back for thinking that far ahead. What you had to do now, was to take a picture of the ghost. Slowly, very,very slowly you raised your camera to get a picture of the ghost.

He had his back to you, the moonlight shining behind him, giving him a very paranormal aura. Still, for some reason the lense wouldn’t focus, so you decided to move forward a bit to get a better look. Sadly, you miscalculated and you accidentally stepped on a dry leaf, making the ghost turn around in your direction, his face filled with worry but at the same time, confidence.

Then you stopped.

Damn he was cute.

You hadn’t seen his face till now, and you were taken aback by it. He was definetly a very good looking boy, one the girls in your class might go all crazy about. Never in your life had you felt something like you were feeling now. Could it be....love at first sight?

No! He’s a ghost, I can’t fall in love with a ghost, how would that even work?! You scolded yourself. Still, you didn’t stop your staring at the boy. Thankfully he hadn’t seemed to notice you were there, and before you could even think about it, you pressed the camera button and a loud CLICK was heard through the bushes.

And then a bright light came on.

You forgot to turn off the flash.

The boy let out a surprised gasp, and called out, but before he could once again catch you, you quickly got up and ran away from the place. You heard the footsteps following behind you, but you were faster and a few minutes later you didn’t hear anything else, and you slowed your pace.

That was close.

You triumphantly smiled as you looked through the pictures on your camera. Granted they weren’t super high quality, but you could make out the boys silhouette.

Hehe, now to become a millionaire! You celebrated. You sneaked back into your room and placed your camera and flashlight on your desk. Then you were going to grab your paranormal book from your backpack when...you didn’t find anything.

What?

You turned your backpack upside down and staked it as hard as possible, but still nothing would come out.

Bada’s book.

Oh no.

Oh no.

If Bada found out you lost her book, you wouldn’t be able to have lunch at her home ever again! And you would loose the only...friends (?) you had in this island. You couldn’t allow that! You always had to return what you borrowed, that was one thing your mother would always say, and this time she was right! After all, Bada lent you soemthing really important to her, and you couldn’t bear to think about coming back to her home empty handed.

Still...you weren’t going to go back into the house. It was way to dark now, you were sleepy and you were sure the ghost was porbably waiting in the garden, somewhere.

What to do, what to do? You asked yourself as you put on your pijamas and laid in bed.

It must have fallen off somewhere along the way, you thought, so maybe you wouldn’t have to go into the garden after all.

Then you got it!

What if, tomorrow morning you went into the garden? There weren’t going to be any ghosts since it was daytime, you reasoned, and it would be way easier to find the book. After all, there would be no one around the mansion to scold you, or to tell you to leave! It was the perfect plan!

You tucked yourself into bed and looked up confidently at the ceiling. You were going to get that book!

#mystic messenger #jumin han #jumin fluff #jumin x reader #jumin fanfic #jumin smut #jumin angst #jumin x mc #mysme #saeyoung choi #saeran choi #yoosung kim #jaehee kang #jihyun mysme #choi bois #mysme zen

[elsanna-shenanigans]

April Contest Submission #30: Break Me Off

Words: ca. 3,000 Setting: mAU Lemon: no CW: none

“Can I try yours?”

Elsa’s head snapped up from the book she was reading to look to her left. Her baby sister was looking expectantly, her small hand outstretched and waiting expectantly, fingers wiggling in a grabby motion.

“Sure,” she answered with a smile, and passed her barely started dark chocolate KitKat on to Anna. “I don’t think you’ll like it though.”

Anna ignored that statement and immediately put the candy bar in her ‘some teeth missing transition period’ mouth, and bit off a sizable chunk. She chewed for a few seconds before her chocolate-covered lips twisted in a grimace, and she threw the KitKat back in Elsa’s lap.

“Ewww,” she said once she finally swallowed the bite (she at least had the decency to not spit it out like she used to a few years ago, something Elsa could bet would drive their father nuts if she did it in the new car), then gave Elsa the dirtiest look ever. “It’s so bitter! Why are you doing this to yourself…”

The last words were said with an overly-dramatic flair as Anna put her hand up to her forehead and pretended to faint like an old-timey movie lady on an ottoman. Which would work much better if she wasn’t stopped by the seat belt.

“It’s not that bitter to me.” Elsa shrugged as she picked up the discarded KitKat and continued to eat it as if nothing ever mattered. “You just still have a baby palate,” she said around a mouthful.

Anna blew her a raspberry, and her gaze dropped to Elsa’s book. “Whatcha reading anyway?”

Elsa swallowed the KitKat. “Harry Potter.” She flipped the cover to show it to Anna, who immediately started tracing and mouthing the letters of the title. “The fifth part comes out next week, so I wanted to re-read it before then.”

“Can you read it to me?”

“Later,” she lowered her voice and glanced in the rear-view mirror at their father’s concentrated face. It wasn’t the best idea to read–and have Anna interrupt with her loud comments–while he was driving. “When we’re settled at the hotel, I’ll read some to you.”

+++

“Hey,” Anna whispered, leaning over the wide armrest so she could reach Elsa’s ear. “You wanna try a bite of mine?”

She offered her the obnoxiously white KitKat, and Elsa immediately took it, as if its glow-in-the-dark properties could be seen by the row behind them. Without thinking much, she chomped down on the half-eaten candy bar. The overwhelming sweetness exploded in her mouth and seemed to coat her tongue with a thick, fatty film.

“You like it?” Anna whispered again, absolutely disinterested in the screen, her eyes locked square on Elsa’s face. “It’s kinda sweet, but I think I dig the white chocolate.”

Fighting through the nausea, Elsa finally managed to push the saccharine mush down her throat. “It’s absolutely disgusting,” she whispered back, then chuckled at Anna’s betrayed face. “I can see why you’d like it.”

Anna opened her mouth to say something (presumably snarky, she was hitting that age) in return, but an angry shhh came up from behind them. Elsa glanced at the people sitting in the back row and mouthed a sorry.

She turned back to the screen and tried to catch up on what she’d missed from the movie. So far The Goblet of Fire was proving to be worse than the previous parts, but she still wanted to know how they managed to work out the lake task of the Triwizard–

When Anna opened her mouth again just a few seconds later, Elsa stuck the white chocolate KitKat in it.

+++

“Hey, tradition!” Anna screamed suddenly as Elsa unwrapped her finals-study-motivation KitKat, almost making her drop it. “Lemme try!”

Elsa blinked. This was just the dark chocolate variety, one that she was sure she’d already let Anna try at some point in her life.

“You already–” But before she could finish, Anna’s shark jaws locked around the still barely unwrapped candy bar in Elsa’s hand with a loud crunch.

She munched for a moment, a thoughtful look on her face as she was considering the flavor. It quickly gave way to a disgusted scowl.

“Ew,” she said with a fake gag. “It’s as bad as I remembered.”

So Elsa did let her try it before. She rolled her eyes and half-heartedly swatted Anna away.

With a devious snicker and a hurried good luck with the exam!, Anna skipped out of the room and left her alone to study.

Elsa shook her head and finally returned her attention to her long-awaited snack award.

For some reason, the sight of Anna’s glitter lip gloss on the dark chocolate made her stomach twist.

+++

KitKats turned out to be the best way to go through her finals that year, and the next semester, and the next next semester, putting in the required fuel, feeling of accomplishment and the calories missing from not having time to eat proper meals.

It was also one of her little pleasures to find and test new flavors, especially those not available locally. It was Anna’s little pleasure to never say she wanted to order some for herself, and instead take bites off of Elsa’s, ‘just in case I don’t like it and don’t wanna finish!’

And over time it was one of Elsa’s little pleasures to look at the print of Anna’s lips on the chocolate and tenderly place hers on top to match the shape.

That little pleasure turned into a major curse when she realized she was daydreaming about placing her lips on Anna’s directly.

From then on, she would only buy the 4 finger breakable Kits.

+++

“I don’t really like this one,” Anna said around a mouthful of the Ruby cocoa KitKat. “It looks super cute, but it just tastes kinda waxy.”

Elsa shrugged. “Honestly, it’s just like the regular, but pink.”

“No, it’s different.” There was no point arguing with Anna on that. While Elsa preferred to try out new flavors, Anna has always been a hardcore true fan and real connoisseur of the regular Kit, so all she could do was to believe the expert. The currently pouting, cutely irritated expert. “Do you wanna finish mine?”

Elsa’s blood froze.

The whole point of the 4 finger Kits (which she personally considered inferior as the ratio of chocolate to wafer was just not quite on par with the single stick) was to not kiss Anna by proxy. Is what she came to call it.

But Anna was holding out the pink KitKat with a darker pink lip gloss outline in her direction, looking at her expectantly.

“N-no, I’m fine,” she answered a little too quickly and in a little too nervous of a voice. “I don’t really like it either,” she lied.

Anna’s brows furrowed. “I thought you said it tastes like the regular to you.”

Elsa could feel herself sweat. Damn, the stupid act of sharing a KitKat, something they’ve done since they were little kids was making her sweat.

Probably precisely because they’ve been doing this since they were little kids. Growing up together. Being sisters. Who should not want to kiss each other, yet there Elsa was, looking away from Anna’s perfect cupid bow glossy lips like a teenager (which she was definitely not anymore, on the final stretch to obtaining her bachelor degree) in love.

Her own lower lip felt numb from biting down on it. Fuck, she was in love.

“Yeah, but you’re right,” she said, mouth dry. She was in love and she was just now realizing this because of a stupid Ruby KitKat. “It is waxy.” Stupidly good Ruby KitKat that she was going to deny herself because her sister’s lips touched it and she would burn in hell if hers did too. “Just toss it out.”

Anna’s face looked like she just told her she actually was planning to vote on Trump for the pure fun of it, but she didn’t say anything.

+++

“Hey, I’m just about to head out– oh is that a new one?”

Elsa almost dropped the half eaten candy bar on the floor. She was not expecting Anna to come in her room any time soon, and like the true disgusting goblin she was, she decided to partake in her secret stash of imported KitKats.

Her dirty little secret stash of single stick KitKats that she couldn’t find in 4 finger format, and thus could not ever, ever let Anna know about because even if she ordered two pieces of each kind Anna would refuse to try an entire bar on her own.

‘I mean, what’s the fun in that? Half of the joy of KitKats is sharing!’

Not really seeing any way out of that, Elsa admitted defeat. “…Yes.”

“Oh, cool!” Anna bounced over excitedly to drop down on the bed next to her. “Oooh, white chocolate and peach? So fancy! Is it from Japan? It looks about the size of the Japanese ones I saw online…”

Her pure, genuine excitement only made Elsa feel even worse about hiding in her room like Gollum with his ring. Then, right as she was reaching for Elsa’s KitKat, Anna’s face and hand suddenly dropped.

“Wait…”

Elsa gulped.

“…you… you were going to eat it without me, weren’t you?”

She focused on the pattern of her carpet.

“Oh my god, Elsa! You stinker!” Anna sounded full-on betrayed, and Elsa could honestly not blame her for that. “I thought KitKats were our thing!”

Elsa blushed, for many different reasons. “I-it’s not like that,” she started explaining herself, fully aware of how pathetic she sounded. “It’s just cause you never want a full KitKat of a new flavor and I couldn’t find them in the sharing format–”

“So? I didn’t know we were suddenly only allowed to share the break-apart ones.”

Elsa sighed. Right, to Anna it didn’t make any sense, because Anna was a normal person who didn’t fantasize about kissing her sister. Or flustered about indirectly kissing her. “I-it’s just easier to portion…”

“I’m pretty good at portioning a bite, thank you very much.” She still sounded a little miffed, but she did smile towards the end– right before her eyes turned very round and glistening. “Did you eat many without me?”

Holy shit, she was looking like the pleading emoji and Elsa was at her wit’s end. “No!” she denied quickly and truthfully. “I-I bought more, but this was the first one I was going to try…”

Anna crossed her arms.

“Aaand now that you know about it I guess there’s no point hiding,” Elsa continued sheepishly. “I’ll uh– I’ll go to the kitchen and cut you off a piece.”

She stood up quickly, holding the KitKat like a relay sprinter holds the baton, clinging on for dear life with the prospect of glory and escaping the rivals, or in this case escaping her sister before she could–

“Wait.” Anna’s hand was on her wrist and Elsa almost yelped. The rivals outran her and the finish line was nowhere in sight as she fell on her knees, defeated, and only metaphorically speaking as in real life she was just standing stiff in her place. “What? Just let me take a bite, it’s easier–”

“N-no,” she interrupted quickly, trying to pry the wrist away from Anna’s surprisingly strong grip. “Cause, uh– umm, that way I can make sure to cut in the middle and give you a fair share.”

Yes, that was a splendid save.

“I just want a bite, I’m not sure if I would like a whole half.” And a gloriously crushing response from the opponent. “Just let me–”

Her peach pink lip gloss would look amazingly fitting on the white chocolate and peach KitKat. Or on Elsa’s lips. Applied with her lips. On her lips. Kissing–

“No!” She yanked her hand away. Anna’s eyebrows shot up in shock, and Elsa realized she yelled that very loudly, even though she was mostly responding to her own dirty little secret thoughts. “I mean– I don’t wanna…”

What? What was she supposed to say to get out of this? There was literally no logical reason she could not be wanting to simply share the KitKat like they used to for so many years, aside from the obvious plague that was currently rotting her mind, but she could not tell Anna that–

“…are you disgusted by me?”

She said it in such a small voice, looking up from where she was sitting on Elsa’s bed with hands folded neatly in her lap, her big teal eyes glazed with a sheet of tears and Elsa’s heart broke into a thousand shards.

“Oh god, no!” Her hands moved on their own to grab Anna and pull her into a hug, but she stopped herself on the way, now with her hands awkwardly hovering at Anna’s eye level. “Why… no, I’m so sorry you would even think that, I–”

“Then what is it, Elsa?”

Fuck. Fuckity fuck shit fuck what was she–

“Just say it,” she damn near sobbed. “Out loud.”

“Your lip gloss,” she said in a flat voice, grasping at straws to not lie, but also not tell the truths. “It stays on the KitKat when you bite it.”

Anna’s eyes went wider. “You don’t like my lip gloss?”

Why the fuck was she sounding this hurt by the idea? “No, I–”

“I thought you said it looks good…”

“It does!” She could clearly feel herself getting flustered. “I like it, and it looks very good on your li– on you. Really good.” God, was she sounding as borderline creepy to Anna as she did to herself? “B-but it leaves a– a stencil of your lips on the…”

She trailed off, not really sure how to get out of the corner she just talked herself into.

Anna gave her a puzzled look. “So you don’t like… my lips?”

“No!” Jesus why was communication so difficult and why was the room so hot and why was Anna looking at her like this? “I love them. Like! I like them. I like. Them. Your lips. Like them.”

If Anna got up and called the ambulance right now because ‘my sister is having a stroke!’ Elsa would find it completely justified.

“Ookay…” Anna said slowly, not reaching for the phone, and instead continuing to try to read Elsa’s face (but what she could potentially read was that inside Elsa’s head there was a wind-up monkey puppet playing the cymbal, and nothing much beside that.) “So what is the problem?”

Elsa mumbled in response.

“I’m sorry?”

“It feels like we’re kissing,” she said weakly, absolutely giving up on her hopes and dreams in that instance. “When I bite the KitKat.”

Anna blinked at her. “That’s it?”

Elsa nodded.

“I mean, that’s all?”

It was Elsa’s turn to wear a confused expression.

“You’ve been getting only breakable KitKats for a year just so you could share with me without feeling like this?”

Elsa nodded again, albeit cautiously. She had no idea where Anna was going with this.

“And denying yourself flavors that don’t exist in that format so that I wouldn’t feel left out?”

Nod again.

“I’m sorry.”

Record scratch. “What? No, why are you sorry?”

“Because you were feeling uncomfortable because of me?”

“No, I– I didn’t want you to feel uncomfortable knowing I want to kiss you.”

Wait, no– oh no no no no holy fuck no backtrack backtrack backtrack–

Her stomach sunk. There was no way to backtrack.

Red alert, escape the room.

Anna caught her hips before she could dash for the door and spun her around to face her again, this time meeting her at eye level. She reached for Elsa’s hand–which was currently hanging limply at her side, and still holding the goddamned half-eaten KitKat–and clasped it gently in hers, then brought it up until it was between them, right in front of Elsa’s mouth.

The scent of peach and white chocolate hit her before her brain registered the development.

“Bite,” Anna said softly, but with demand. “And hold.”

Elsa’s mouth opened on its own as her sister pushed the KitKat in, and obediently she clamped her teeth down on it–just enough to break the chocolate layer, but not all the way through.

She stood there patiently with the candy bar sticking out of her mouth, watching Anna remove the remaining wrapper as if her body was not hers to steer, as if she was just a passive observer as her mind was struggling to pick the pieces of what her sister was doing without going for what she really wanted Anna to be doing in her heart of hearts.

Once the wrapper was off, Anna climbed on her tiptoes and– Elsa could swear she saw her smirk right before the free end of the KitKat disappeared in Anna’s mouth, slowly, until their lips finally touched.

Their lips touched.

She was kissing her sister.

She was kissing her sister around a fucking candy bar.

And in just a few heartbeats she heard the tell-tale, trademark KitKat crunch as Anna’s teeth broke through the wafer, and with a final brush of her glossed lips she was off, leaving behind only a chunk of white chocolate and peach mousse in Elsa’s numb, speechless mouth.

“It looks good on you too,” Anna said with her mouth still full and gaze dashing between Elsa’s lips and eyes. “Bet it would be even better without the melted chocolate.” She swallowed down her bite, and let out a satisfied hum. “Mm, I like this one. Funny how the flavors work together so well… chew, Elsa.”

She brought her hand up to Elsa’s chin and pressed on it, and Elsa mechanically picked up the chewing motion, earning a delighted smile from her sister.

Anna glanced down at her watch. “Well, I gotta go. The sea and beach won’t run away, but my friends just might if I keep them waiting any longer.” She placed a soft, sticky kiss on Elsa’s boiling hot cheek. “But I’m really looking forward to trying the other flavors you got.”

With a wink, she pushed past her and out the door, leaving Elsa to deal with the lump (of KitKat) in her throat.

#elsanna #submission #April 2021 contest #prompt: break

[consumedkings-archive]

mayhaps 4. “You’ll play this game with me, won’t you?” for john/elliot?

BABES I AM. SO SORRY that this has taken so long but i am really pleased that i finally hit a stride with it and how it came out!! i hope you enjoy this absolute tooth-rotting fluff piece. i’ve been having a rough few days so it was so nice to get the chance to just write something sugary-sweet for once. (❁´◡`❁)

v. we can change or part ways ✤ pre-cult au

john/elliot + “you’ll play this game with me, won’t you?”, or: john picks a fight with isolde and immediately loses. hints of joseph/isolde mentioned very briefly. sort of a  sequel to this oneshot!

word count: 2.3k of pure fluff. also, some john bullying.

warnings: does john being an idiot count?

“This is a stupid game.”

It’s eleven o’clock on Christmas Eve, Elliot is snowed in at the Seed Ranch, and Isolde and John won’t stop arguing.

It’s almost enough to make it all worthwhile; the fact that they’re trapped, or that Elliot didn’t even want to come to this family dinner because she hasn’t forgotten about John impulsively asked her to marry him and her kicking him out of her apartment shortly thereafter, or that Jacob keeps looking at her from across the living room like, so uh, this is the one, huh?

“It’s not stupid,” John defends. “It will prove the superiority of Elliot and I over you and Joseph as a couple, and I think that’s not stupid at all.”

“It is,” Isolde replies flatly, “because any couple that has me in it is far superior over any couple that has you in it. No offense, Elliot.”

“None taken.”

“Offense is definitely taken,” John interjects.

“My point is that it could be Elliot and I versus you and Joseph, and I would still win, because anyone with two eyeballs probably knows Elliot better than you know her.”

“Then there’s no reason why you shouldn’t want to play!” John snaps, and then he looks at Elliot. Something in his expression shifts—something that Ell can’t quite read, and she thinks it might be because they haven’t even really made up yet from their last argument but have sort of been forced to play nice in close proximity.

And then his expression clears, and he flashes his teeth at her in that crooked smile, and he says, “You’ll play this game with me, won’t you?”

Elliot stifles a sigh. The idea of the game is simple enough—a couple stands back to back, is asked a series of questions about who-is-more-likely-to-whatever, the person who thinks they are drinks. And so on, and so forth. It sounds like a quick way for Elliot to get pissed at John, and also get piss drunk—there’s like, five rules about making them both drink—but he looks so earnest and—

And, well. He’s been trying. And that has to count for something, doesn’t it?

“Yeah,” she relents at last, “I will. If you stop fucking whining.”

“See?” John says, looking at Isolde pointedly, needling, and she groans.

“Can’t wait to watch you get drunk off your ass because you can’t get on the same page as your girlfriend to save your life.”

John rolls his eyes, almost so hard that Elliot can hear it more than she can see it, but he reaches out and snags her hand to haul her off of the couch. Isolde is prompt in producing two glasses full of alcohol—champagne, if Ell knows Isolde at all, and by now she does—and they stand, back to back, in the center of the living room.

Elliot says, “This is stupid,” with a withering sound, and John reaches behind him and gives her hip a squeeze. She still hasn’t forgiven him for his impromptu proposal, and yet he’s finding himself awful comfortable acting like everything is completely fine.

“Don’t be a poor sport, hellcat, you already agreed.”

She cranes her neck to shoot him a dirty look, with half a mind to tell him that she’d like to instead dissect everything he’d once done to piss her off rather than play this stupid fucking game, but her thoughts are quickly interrupted by Isolde settling onto the couch next to Jacob, looking quite pleased with herself.

Probably because she’d wriggled out of having to play a drinking game.

The first few questions are easy; softballs lobbed in their direction to get them to more relaxed. Things like, who’s more likely to get injured doing something stupid (Elliot), or have an embarrassing tattoo (John), or sell all of their belongings and move to Tibet (in which neither of them drinks, so then the rules are that they both must drink). In hindsight, Elliot thinks that Isolde is sending these easy ones on purpose, just ramping up for something better, grittier.

Halfway through, Joseph brings her a glass of wine just as the questions shift a little; who’s more likely to forget the name of someone they hooked up with (John), and date two people at once (John), and go home with someone they just met. The last one, they both drink, thanks to their most fortuitous first meeting in the club, and because they both drink they must then both drink again.

“These questions feel a little pointed,” John snips out eventually, when he’s drank six or seven times in a row, and Elliot can see Jacob grinning at them from the corner of her eyes. She’s pleasantly warm, but certainly nothing close to how toasty she’s sure that John is—how he must be after heartily drinking expensive, highly alcoholic champagne.

“They’re just fun questions, John. Aren’t you always talking about how you’re the fun one?” Isolde asks playfully. Elliot swallows back a laugh—it would be cruel, of course, to laugh at John’s expense—but she can’t help it. He’s put himself into corners too easily. “Who’s more likely to have the highest number?”

“Oooof?” John prompts irritably. “Candles? Chris—Christmas ornaments? Dog hairs on their clothes?” All things that he knows Elliot would beat him in and thus, have to drink for.

“Bedwarmers,” Elliot says, at the same time as Isolde does, and now she can’t help but laugh at the sound that comes out of John; long, and suffering, and fully aware that had he not insinuated that he is superior to Isolde in any way, she would not be specifically targeting him.

He drinks. Jacob asks, “More likely to hit someone with their car?” And she can feel John’s shoulders sag in relief, because she drinks dutifully.

“Thanks, Jake,” John murmurs, his words slurring a little now after enduring an onslaught of pointed questions. Elliot sees Joseph lean towards Isolde, murmuring something into her hair.

“Joseph says I have to stop torturing you,” Isolde announces, resulting in another breath of relief.

“I only suggested perhaps John has reached his limit,” Joseph admonishes. “You enjoy twisting the blade, a little.”

“You’re right, that is very sexy of me.”

John finishes whatever’s left in his cup—which can’t be much and then sets it on the table, nearly taking a headfirst dive over to the other side, and Elliot steadies him and sets her own glass aside.

“Easy, Slick.”

“Unfair,” is what John whines at her in response. “Isolde likes—she—you better.”

Looking awfully smug, Isolde suggests, “Should probably get that one to bed, Elliot, it doesn’t look like he’s gonna make it much longer.”

She stifles a sigh. The last thing that she really wants is to spend Christmas Eve with John completely, absolutely shit-faced; though considering that she’s so much more of a light-weight than he is, it is nice to have there be that kind of disparity for once. Let John be faced with his crippling vulnerability that he’d can’t laugh off because he’s so toasted.

By the time Elliot gets him up the stairs and into his bed, John has moaned and groaned his way through seven different thoughts. He settles against the pillows and lets out a breath, eyes closing.

“Gonna be stuck here,” he says after a minute. “For a few days. ‘Cause—the snow.”

“I know,” Elliot replies, perched on the edge of the bed. And then: "Fuck, I hate this," the alcohol in her system making her painfully unable to filter herself. At her words, John laughs, sitting up and sliding his arms around her waist so that he can look at her at her.

Drenched in dimly-filtered moonlight, all sharp elegant lines and eyes so blue she thinks they might swallow her up—he’s infuriating. Infuriating. So handsome, and also somehow smart and dumb at the same time. The idea that John wants to marry her is incredibly absurd, not only because of their track record but—

"Do you remember," John begins, fanning out the blanket across their laps, "that storm? A few months back? Took out your, uh....?"

“Power?”

“Yeah, that.”

She does. Elliot hates the dark, and with the power out that meant all of the small little lights she'd spread throughout her house didn't work. "Yes. It was awful."

"I remember it fondly," he continues in that still-warm lilt of being inebriated. He settles more comfortably in his spot and thumbs the slope of her hip, easy and affectionate.

“That tracks. We tend to have different views on how things go.”

He narrows his eyes, but the gesture is playful; he seems to be in a better mood than before, the tension between them less aggressive, waning and waxing the way it likes to do. John will contest it to his death, but she thinks that maybe he had intended for them to be equally as inebriated, not one more than the other, when he suggested the game before.

“It was awful,” John concedes, “but also—good. A moment in time can be many things. Should I state my case?”

Elliot groans. She’s drunk, and he’s more drunk but also a lawyer, and there is no way she can out-talk him anyway. Not in a million years. “John, you know I can’t out-argue you.”

“Maybe you’ll end up agreeing.” The brunette shifts again, reaching out and taking her hand. He does it very easily, like the argument doesn’t exist, like she hadn’t told him to fuck off and kicked him out of her apartment those nights ago. “Consider this: you’re me.”

“Hate it.”

“You’re me, and you’ve been dating this girl,” John continues ceaselessly, winding their fingers together. “That you really like, and you keep—messing it up, but this is the first date since the last time that you messed up, and the power goes out.”

Elliot grimaces. Even like this, even with John leaning in so that there isn’t a lot of space between them, telling her the story like it was the greatest thing in the world—all she can remember from that moment in time is the panic.

“And she’s really pissed off,” he adds, for flavor. “So you light every single candle you can dig out of her cupboard, because if you don’t you think she might actually come unglued from hitting her berserk button so much. And when she finally calms down, she ends up falling asleep right against you, and just before she’s really asleep for good she says that she loves you.”

Oh, Elliot thinks, her chest tightening painfully. She doesn’t remember that. The adrenaline crash, sure, burying her face into John’s neck and smelling his cologne as she fell asleep; but that does sound like something half-asleep Elliot would say, the traitorous bitch.

“Stupid,” she murmurs after a moment, when she thinks she’s recovered. Her words elicit from John a half-cocked grin as he’s leaned in, studying her. “That you remember that.”

“I remember everything,” John replies, his voice pitching low, “about you, Ell.”

Bad. This is bad, a mistake. It’s cozy under a blanket, away from the bustle of his siblings, knowing how much it’s storming and snowing outside, and she keeps thinking about how he kissed her in her apartment that night he’d tried to sneak the proposal in—like he wanted more, like he wanted to kiss her more than that, but he was trying to behave.

He was trying.

“I can’t,” Elliot manages out, soft. “John, I can’t—this—back and forth, and—”

“I don’t want to either,” John insists. “I want you, Ell, I mean it—I meant it then, and now, and I’m sorry that I thought a ring would fix it. Or, not even fix it, just that I thought—”

Her chest feels tight, and hot, and she swallows thickly as he speaks before she interrupts. “It was really stupid, really really fucking stupid, like—the meanest joke you could—”

“It wasn’t a joke—”

“So what did you do?” she asks, suddenly, blurting the words out before she can stop herself. John blinks at her.

“What did I do?”

“That night,” she presses. “That night in my house, when the power went out. When I said...”

Her voice trails off. She knows what she wants him to say, deep down inside of her. She knows that she wants him to say, I love you, I loved you then and I love you now and there’s nobody else I want more than you, because she’s a hopeless romantic and there’s nothing that would make her life into a Hallmark movie than John whispering a profession of love like this, right now.

John starts, “Elliot, I’m—”

Panic. If he says it, it’s real, and then she will have to face it. Really, truly face.

“An idiot,” Elliot interjects, her words overlapping with his and strangling them until all she can hear is the tail end of him saying, “—with you,” and his mouth sets down in a deep frown.

She looks at their hands, intertwined. He’d been so sure of himself that night, sliding the ring on her finger, and it’s less that he seemed sure she would say yes but more sure that he thought he had been making the right decision. More than anything, all I want to hear is that you missed me.

“Go to sleep,” she says at length. “We’ll see how you feel when you wake up in the morning.”

John, true to form, heaves the most dramatic sound possible out of his body before he lays back against the pillows, still in his jeans and button up. Elliot stands, and leaves him like that, because there’s plenty of things that John Seed deserves and Elliot thinks waking up in tight jeans is one of them.

“Hellcat,” he says, when she reaches the door. She pauses, glancing back; he’s quiet for a moment before he says, “Mean it, you know.”

I’m in love with you. She knows that’s what he’d been trying to say before she’d spoken over him.

“I know,” Elliot replies softly. “We’ll see if you mean it tomorrow, too.”

She hopes he will.

#my writing #pre-cult au #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #i'm soft!!!! #elizabeth thank u for sending this prompt in my love and being so sweet ;----; #and PATIENT my god #this only took me a thousand years #i hope you enjoy!!! #far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic #meowthvevo

[moostaronce]

Let’s Get It

Request: an arcade date with Gahyeon 

A/N Okay so in reality I know she’s a grown ass woman now and we are literally the same age but every time I see her all I think about is how much of a baby she is. A savage baby but a baby nonetheless.

Today is Sunday. The sun is high and the weather is perfect. These are all things that help you indicate that today is date day with your girlfriend Gahyeon. The two of you haven’t been together long but there is just no denying your chemistry. A subtle smile plays on your lips as you grab your keys and put your shoes on before heading out. 

You are both celebrities but were best friends long before things evolved into a different type of relationship. You having a career in acting made it easier for you to go out as a couple as long as you keep your hands to yourself. Even the media always just report you as close friends. However, your fan base and Insomnias are on you like Minji on macarons. 

Deukae’s dorm is fifteen minutes away so it doesn’t take long for an excited Gahyeon to call and check up on your location. You hit the accept call button on your steering wheel and her voice blissfully fills your car and ears.

“Y/N! Are you here yet? Can I come outside?“  Just hearing her excited voice brought you energy. 

“Not yet, come down in 8 minutes and I’ll be there in 10.“ 

When you finally pull up to the dorm she doesn’t even give you the chance to let her know before she’s in your car embracing me.

“I’m so happy to see you! Where to today?“ Her facial features are so full of anticipation that it makes you excited too. Well there is a new arcade that just opened that we haven’t tried yet, if you want to play some games.

As it came out of your mouth you thought it sounded a little lame, but just when you thought it wasn’t possible for her smile to get any brighter she proved you wrong. 

“Let’s go! I wanna whoop you in a whole new location.“ She smirks at you as she buckles up and subtly slides your free hand in her own. 

The whole way there she tells you about how her week and schedules went and you just listen with a small smile. The feeling of both of her hands holding your free hand in her lap like she can’t let it go makes you giddy. It takes all of your power not to just lean over and kiss her because you never know if Dispatch is watching from the bushes.

So instead you just listen to your girlfriend tell you everything she couldn’t while you were apart. 

Soon you pull up to the parking lot and Gahyeon squeals in excitement and squeezes your hand. As your taking your seat belt off you have to convince her to let you go so you can open her door for her. When you come around and open the door she kisses you on the cheek so quick you almost question if it really happened.

Gahyeon smiles up at you and links your arms as you head into the arcade. Surprisingly there aren’t a lot people there yet so you go check out the prizes and ticket amounts while before you go to play. You’re perusing the shelves when Gahyeon squeaks and points at a giant Rilakkuma on the top shelf for an absurd amount of tickets.

You take a moment before you just guide her to play skeeball. Somehow she rolled the ball so aggressively it ended up in your lane and you both died laughing as it actually raised your score tremendously. Gahyeon falls to her knees, maybe laughing the hardest ever in her life. After you help her back up still laughing yourself you pinch her on the nose affectionately as you proceed through the arcade.

You both play your way through nearly every game in the arcade before you take a breather to count your tickets. You’re actually pretty close to being able to afford the grand prize! Gahyeon has to run off to the bathroom, so you play an arm wrestling game in the meantime and you get super invested that you don’t notice a young man around your and Gahyeon’s age watching you. So when he approaches you, you startle a bit.

“Hey, you!“ The boy was directly behind you as you won your 5th game in a row with the body-less arm. 

“Huh, hello?” He could sense the uncertainty in your voice so he took a step back with a warm smile.

“Sorry, I just couldn’t help but notice you and your friend had a lot of tickets. Would you be up for a wager?“

“What kind of wager are we talking?“ You squinted your eyes at the boy with skepticism. All you heard in most of that sentence was that he had been watching you and Gahyeon.

“ I have a lot of tickets too and I’m shooting for that Rilakkuma over there. How about we arm wrestle and winner takes all the tickets. With both of our amounts combined it will be more than enough.“ The boy’s warm smile became a smug, arrogant smirk that you raise your eyebrows at.

“So what your really saying is that you think you can beat me easily and take my tickets.“ You stand up to find that you are actually a bit taller than him with your arms crossed. He visibly gulps a little but refuses to back down.

So the two of you sit at a table and ready yourselves out the corner of your eye you see Gahyeon looking around for you until she spots you. She just looks on confused until a girl runs up to her and starts talking and waving her arms all animated.

With her distracted you fully focus on the young man in front of you. He has this aura of pure arrogance that is slowly but surely working your nerves. So it begins you decide to do best two of three. Within a five minute time frame you beat him twice thus earning all of his tickets and keeping your own.

He hands them all over with his head hanging low and a small apology escaping under his breath.

“What was your deal any way? Are you a collector or something?“

“No, I wanted to get it for my girlfriend since she’s mad at me. We had a fight a few minutes ago and she won’t even look at me now.“ 

You can’t help but feel bad for the guy but you also have a girlfriend to make happy, so you pat him on the back and head towards the award counter. But as you turn around to find Gahyeon you see the guy you just arm wrestled staring longingly at the girl that she is talking to. Must be his girlfriend, he looks so sad.

At that moment you just roll your eyes at yourself because your conscience is screaming at you to help that poor guy. Then you think about Gahyeon and how disappointed she’d be if she knew you chose not to help someone.

With an annoyed sigh at yourself and heavy steps you walk over and hand the poor guy the Rilakkuma.

“Here, you need it more than I do.” The guy’s head springs up and he looks at you in disbelief. 

“Are you for real? You’re just going to give it to me?” 

“Yeah, I have enough tickets left over for something else and honestly, you look pitiful dude.”

 “Thank you! My name is Jaebum by the way, Park Jaebum. Honey is gonna love this, thank you.”

“Y/N. Go get her, man.”

That’s all he needs to hear before he takes off like a rocket towards your girlfriends. So you wander back to the prize counter to find something for Gahyeon. That’s when you see a really big Gudetama plushie that you have the exact amount of tickets for. You have never grabbed something that quickly in your life. 

When you turn to find Gahyeon she’s directly behind you with that cute eye smile you love. She looks so cute that you have to pinch her on her cheek.

“Here Gah, I got you a plushie.” Her eyes shine as you hand it over.”

“I saw what you did and I’m proud of you. That girl said she was a fan so we were talking and then she told me about her fight with her boyfriend. Then I see you handing over the bear to him and now they are all made up.” 

“Well, you know I just wanted to help him out.” You duck your head a little to hide your blush from her while she gushes over you. 

“You’re so cute! I could kiss you right now.” She says the last part in a whisper and it makes you blush even more.

“Um, I better get you home before Bora personally pulls up to drag you back.”

The two of you link arms together as you leave the arcade and get into your car.

“So, did you have fun? We played games for 2 hours straight.” You glance at her as you ask the question.

“So much! We should go again sometime, their games are so much more fun than the old place.”

“Whatever you want, babe”

Silence filled the car so you look over at Gahyeon briefly to see her staring at you with a red face and the surprised Pikachu face. Your eyebrows scrunch up a bit confused and it brings her back to reality.

“Sorry, I’m just not used to hearing you call me babe yet.“ Even without seeing her face, you know she’s embarrassed.

“Should I not?“

“No! No, you can say it as much as you want, whenever you want! I like it a lot.” She squeezes your hand fondly and settle in her seat smiling to herself.

In  a short time the car ride is over and you are in front of Dreamcatcher’s dorm. You put your hazard lights on and walk her up to the door like you usually do, just to make sure she gets in safely. Gahyeon leans her back against the door clutching her plushie tightly to her chest with her signature sweet smile on her face.

The two of you just smile and stare at each other for what feels like hours but is actually only about 2 minutes. When you come back to your senses you kiss her on the cheek and say goodnight.

Before you can even fully turn away to leave, Gahyeon tugs on your hand to get your attention and pouts when you look at her. Then you watch in amusement as her lips transition from a pout to a pucker, indicating that a cheek kiss isn’t going to be enough today. 

You look up and down the hall to make sure nobody sees and give her a quick peck, but before you get too far away she moves a hand to the collar of your shirt to pull you back in for a real kiss. And you stay like that until the door opening behind her startles you back, while Gahyeon pouts again, as she had no intention of breaking that kiss anytime soon.

Who else would open the door with her arms crossed and a “Kiss the Chef” apron on but Kim Bora. Her face is painted with a playful annoyed expression that has you putting your hands up. You’re not really able to back up too much more because Gahyeon still had your collar in her fist, eyes glazed over only looking at you.

Meanwhile the rest of unnie line approach the door to see what’s going on and giggle at the scene before them.

“Y/N, why don’t you stay for dinner? It seems like Gahyeon doesn’t want you to go yet.” Minji smiles at you sweetly like she always does.

“Well I have to go properly park first, if it’s alright with EVERYONE that I stay.“ Gahyeon snaps to attention at this and spins to face her members with a huge puppy dog face.

Yoobin and Yoohyeon shout whatever from deeper in the dorm. Minji, Siyeon, and Han Dong smile and nod, while Bora does her best to avoid the maknae’s gaze. She holds strong until Gahyeon resorts to whining and she can’t resist anymore.

“Fine! But no funny business.” Even while she’s pretending to be annoyed, Bora can’t help but crack a smile before she abruptly turns around “complaining” loudly about how clingy Gahyeon is.

“Well looks like I’ll be back.” Gahyeon grabs you for one more peck before you go to park the car.

“Hurry back!” 

With that you make your way to the car smiling like an idiot knowing you get to spend more time with Gahyeon tonight. Best date day ever!

#dreamcatcher scenarios #girl group scenarios #Gahyeon #Lee Gahyeon #MooStarOnce

[poptod]

The Dead Heed No Lies (Ch. 2)

Description: If you won't join the life of the party upstairs, the life of the party comes to you.

Notes: Building up. Word Count: 1.9k

Chapter Two: Holed Up

It had been approximately a week since you’d fainted in the break room, found by Ahkmenrah, who was apparently worried about you after you hadn’t returned, even as dawn approached. When you came fully back to consciousness, he sat with you, explaining what the tablet did, how it needed moonlight, which was the real reason for the transfer. He further explained that it only worked during the night, which was why everything seemed so still during the day. He’d been gracious about the whole fainting thing, telling you that it wasn’t entirely unexpected, simply wishing you a better day ahead of you before he left to his exhibit.

You decided not to accompany him. Watching a man crawl into his own grave to die seemed like something that wouldn’t be good for you.

“How long are you staying here?” You asked Tilly, watching from the balcony as chaos ensued in the form of an almost hysterical party.

“Dunno, this is a pretty prestigious museum. But should be for another few months.”

“That’s quite a while,” you noted, nodding in a mildly impressed manner.

“Should give you enough time to get to know Ahk more,” she said, leaning over to you, attempting horridly at a wink.

“I - what?”

“You know, you and the King,” she said, saying his title with a theatrical form of reverence.

“… Right. Me and the King. What is this, Disney?” You shook your head, chuckling to yourself.

“What? You’d make a great couple,” she said, nudging you with her elbow.

“Til, I barely know him. You’re seeing things.”

“Whatever you say,” she said skeptically, turning and leaving down the stairs.

The whole notion she was proposing was ridiculous. You’d spoken to him a grand total of three times, the first being when you met him, the second was him waking you from a black out, and the third was you accidentally running into his parents, and he quickly introduced you to them.

On the whole, the conversation wasn’t bad, but it could’ve gone better. It felt rather like a young teen who had modern ideals with two racist parents, but this time it was an actual King and Queen who had Jewish slaves and their son, who had apparently never agreed with that.

You didn’t agree with it either, being Jewish yourself. After his parents had left, Ahkmenrah explained that it wasn’t the first time it’d happened, that it was equally embarrassing as it was funny. You agreed, and quickly excused yourself.

As fun as it was to be upstairs during the night of life, you had a job, and it couldn’t be avoided. Especially since McPhee was now breathing down your back, which was a change, because usually he was at home, asleep, during your work hours. Now, fully awake, he was free to observe your every movement. Not that he did, he was busy making sure nothing in the museum was destroyed. You stayed far away, in the basement, locked up and sorting through the archives.

Every now and then Tilly would come down, asking you to take a break, which you nearly always declined.

Then the King visited you.

You could tell it was him without even looking up, from the way his cloak dragged across the ground, and his sandals hitting the asphalt.

“Hi Ahk,” you said, not looking up from the papers you were sorting.

Man killed 150 bears in American wilderness, original article…

“Hello. How’d you know it was me?” He asked, chuckling as he sat down beside you. That was something you hadn’t expected of him when you first met him - for him to be normal, to stoop down to your level. Sit with you on the ground, cross legged, looking like a perfectly normal man in an impeccable costume. Warm and human.

“I can hear your cloak. No one else wears a cloak,” you said, smiling as you looked at him, before looking right back down again.

“Ah. Suppose it does sort of… give it away,” he said, fumbling with his cape in his fingers.

“It’s fantastic material, though. I assume it’s the same clothing you were embalmed with?” You said, and without thought you fingered the material, always wondering what fine cloth would feel like. As much as you studied history, you never actually experienced any of the findings it brought.

“Oh, uh, yes. It is. Gold sewn in and all. I think we were a little dramatic back then,” he laughed quietly, his eyes fixed on your hands.

You knew it was inappropriate, but dear God it was soft.

“Well you had a lot of gold. Symbol of status, a way of letting people know how much you were worth. It’s like people owning mansions nowadays, buying fancy cars. Just a show of wealth and status.”

“Unsightly,” he joked.

“Unseemly,” you said with a chuckle, playing along. After a moment of quiet giggles you turned back to your papers, continuing to sort through them though it was the last thing you wanted to be doing. Here you were, studying historical records when a literal goldmine of information was in front of you, and he acted quite like he liked you, and a lot, always open to talk, always trying to learn more about you. Overall, very friendly.

“Ahkmenrah, I was wondering,” you started, setting your papers down. The more you looked at them, the duller they got. He looked expectantly at you, so you continued.

“There’s hardly any mention of you at all in any history books. No statues, we only found out you existed when we found your, um. Your sarcophagus. Do you have any idea as to why that is?”

It was, maybe, a sensitive topic. Maybe it was a question he didn’t know the answer to. Either way it evoked some emotional reaction out of him as he shifted uncomfortably, tucking his feet and hands further into himself in a psychological sign of defensiveness.

“I didn’t know, for a while. I found out later when my parents told me. I don’t remember this for whatever reason but my brother killed me, and uh… took the throne? It was his birthright, to be fair,” he said, defending him though he deserved none of it.

“He was older than you, but your parents gave you the throne?”

“Yes. I know it’s odd,” he sighed, relaxing as he leaned back on his arms. “But they thought it would be a better decision if I ruled instead of him, and generally speaking, I think they were right. My brother’s a bit, ah, bloodthirsty, you could call it?”

The two of you laughed, but you wondered what in the hell his brother could’ve done in Egyptian times to be considered bloodthirsty enough to pass the throne to the younger child.

“Anyway, he poisoned me, and my parents were still alive when this happened, but they couldn’t do much while he desecrated everything that ever mentioned me.”

“That’s depressing,” you sighed, stretching your arms as you relaxed, looking ahead to the rows of boxes.

“What’s depressing,” he said, his tone suddenly changing, “is you sitting down here all night when all the fun is upstairs.”

“Oh not you too,” you groaned, not wanting to have to convince another person that you had an actual job to do.

“What? It’s not healthy, you know,” he said, laughing, knowing he was a terrible influence.

“I’m fully aware of that but it’s my job. Wouldn’t expect you to understand that, all you do is have fun,” you chuckled, digressing into a tired sigh. He hummed, quiet and low, relaxing in his position once more.

“In that case, if you really can’t be swayed, I’ll stay with you.”

You stammered, fully disagreeing. If he stayed you’d never get anything done, he was a huge distraction, him and his beautiful flowing robes and his stupid gorgeous face - no, you couldn’t do it, you would absolutely not stand for it.

However, before you could go off on a rant of why that was a terrible idea (while completely avoiding your actual lovey-dovey reason as to why it was a terrible idea), he saw the look in your eye, and his smile faded into a sad, open mouthed, glittering eyed expression that made him instantly look like he’d been crying.

Like a goddamn puppy.

“Fine,” you sighed, giving in without a word exchanged. “But don’t distract me!”

“Me? Never!” He laughed, standing up and wandering through the aisles, letting you have your silence as you worked. You didn’t say anything, but you appreciated the thought deeply.

Every now and then, over the next few hours that passed, you’d see him through the spaces between the boxes. His head would poke out, and sometimes he’d kneel down to where you were, giving you a funny face for you to soften and laugh at.

This boy is too kind for his own good, you thought to yourself, wondering if he was like this during his life in Egypt. As you sorted mindlessly through sheets of paper, your mind wandered, going through the two different scenarios.

If he was exactly the same then as he was now, you wondered how he survived. As a prince, he was supposed to be mature, a role model for his kingdom. He should’ve been manly and strong, neither of which were traits he’d shown thus far.

If he was not the same, you wondered when the change happened. What he was like back then. Was he cruel, antisemitic, and a succinct ruler? Or was he just as kind as he was now, just more mature, with the weight of his responsibilities drowning out his personality?

“You look lost,” he noticed, boxes pushed to the side as he poked his head through the other side of the open shelf. You laughed, pushing the boxes back together to force his head out. He whined, jogging his way around the long hall to make it to you.

“No need to be ashamed. I, too, get lost in sheets of paper,” he chuckled, sitting down behind you and looking over your shoulder. He was slightly taller than you, allowing him a vantage point.

“You know, you speak remarkably good English for a 4,000 year old Egyptian Pharaoh,” you said, using the end of your pencil to tap his nose.

“What can I say, it’s what everyone else speaks. I hardly ever speak Egyptian now except with my parents.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you said, growing slowly quieter. “Your version of the language is dead now.”

A clangor of Rex’s roar resounded from upstairs, a sound you now knew signified that everyone needed to return to their place.

“Just as I am soon about to be,” he said, grunting slightly as he stood. Without thought you stood with him, letting your pencil and paper fall to the ground clattering quietly. With a chuckle he looked you up and down, almost sarcastically wondering if you’d do anything else embarrassing. You just glared, the blushing heat in your cheeks obvious.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” you mumbled, leading him out the door and up the stairs. He followed, and the two of you walked to his old room in the museum.

As you reached the threshold he stopped, turning to you.

“I must leave you now,” he said, his words dramatic but his tone sincere. His hands came up to hold yours, another sign of his truthfulness.

“Try and do what I said?” He asked of you.

“What was that again?”

“Have some fun. Don’t hole up in that basement.”

You laughed, shaking your head.

“Sure.”

He left you with a smile, never wanting people to see him as he wrapped himself back up in his tomb. You understood his wish, obeying his need for privacy.

Until tomorrow night, you thought to yourself.

#ahkmenrah x reader #Night at the Museum #ahkmenrah #rami malek #rami malek character #ahkmenrah x male reader #ahkmenrah x female reader #gender neutral reader

[legend-waitforit-harry]

The Only One part 16

Hi, guys! This is to distract us from the dystopian reality that we are in right now. I hope this helps you distract a bit. Also sorry for taking forever to post this. Drop by to scold me.

Here’s the masterlist. Happy reading!

You didn’t even know how big the palace was until you decided to avoid a certain someone. And frankly, you didn’t need to work to hard either. Making new acquaintances, doing chores, mending your garden and slipping every now and then out to take a tour around the Underworld with Chiron telling you stories of everyone’s past, perks of living forever, was keeping you busy enough. And rarely you had the time to think about your mother and what she said, or Harry and what he said or anything of those things that you’d be thinking about. Or at least that’s what you convinced yourself on.

With all your running around, you know the Underworld like the back of your hand by now. Every nook and corner being investigated by you with the wise guidance of Nyx and the anecdotes related to those places by Chiron. And out of everything, that one spot in Elysium has become your favourite. So much so that it is now known as Kore’s groves, something that you secretly like though you express it to be a bit exaggerated. By now you have slept under the Tree of False Dreams, which is kind of a trending dare currently, and take on classes from Hekarte on her famous potion making, though you still can’t bring yourself to completely trust her. And just like that, your schedules are fully packed.

But Fates couldn’t let you be in peace for long as one evening after returning from your potions class you stumbled upon Rhea. Not that you’ve been ignoring her. Since you came back you’ve come across her a number of times and have greeted her like any other time. But this time it was different. She wanted to have a talk. And you know that has never turned out to be good for you.

You felt uncomfortable in her chamber. It’s not your territory. But her motherly presence beside you kept you from bolting out any moment now.

You knew what she’d say. That what everyone has told you in their first encounter with you after you came back. It’s good to have you back. Harry has been sad without you. The place is not the same without you.

It has been a series of awkward conversation of these statements and by now you’ve learned to dodge your way out. Though with Rhea it’s hard to do that. As she towers over you with her overpowering aura, you bend over yourself to crouch away from her investigating eyes.

“Look” she commands you, jumping straight to the point. “It might not be my position to tell you this but you need to talk to Harry.”

Your face betrays you as you stare up at her questioningly. Bloody right that she is not in a position to tell you that! Not only is it your personal affair but also Harry doesn’t even accept her as his mother!

She sighs shaking her head. “I know what you’re thinking” your head drops with a bit of guilt spreading up your cheeks. “But think of it this way, you came here to fulfill your duty to the Realm and you haven’t even talked to him yet! What’s the point of your sacrifice if you don’t even own up your role?”

You don’t have an answer. She’s right. As much as you’d like to deny, she is right.

You feel a pat on your shoulder, “Do your duty, m'child. And the Fates will be kind on you.”

“Okay” you murmur with defeat.

You feel her wanting to say something more and you wait for it.

But nothing comes.

She shuffles to her feet and you follow her suit.

You look up to meet her smiling face. “I’ve tried to correct my errors. Alas it is not my will to change the course of destiny. Maybe it is my repeated sins that stained my intents even when it is but pure.”

“What?”

You surprise the both of you with that question. But she smiles at your eagerness.

“You didn’t ever wonder why Nyx betrayed you the day you found your way to Harry’s chamber?”

You frown trying to recall a day that seems eons ago. A day you were guided by the voice of angels that came from Harry’s throat to stumble upon his private chambers. But you did wonder about that. And you scolded Nyx and she apologized…. Or so you thought.

And it struck you then.

It was Rhea who told you about the meeting. It was Rhea who guided you to the chamber. It was Rhea who wanted you to stumble upon Harry. It was Rhea who wanted you to be with him all along.

Her relationship with her son was barely holding on and she hoped that you’d be the ointment to heal it. But it’s not what the fates had approved and here you are.

You find yourself in your chamber staring at the ceiling as you lie awake. Is it really necessary to talk to him? Not that you wanted to ignore him forever. But you are a bit disappointed that he is not the one who came to you first. You kind of hoped that. But anyway, it doesn’t matter either way. Though, since you’ve waited for so long anyway, what’s another day to it.

And so you waited another day. Trying to push it as much as possible.

With the first thing in the morning being your garden. Tending to your garden has always been your first job of the day, seeing how the fungus is still giving you trouble. And then concerting a little tea party with Nyx and Thanatos in that said garden. You’ve come to learn that Thanatos is indeed very funny, with his dry humor. And you thoroughly enjoyed their company.

Then you order Chiron to row you to your potions class to Hekarte followed by being told off by Hekarte the whole day for being a klutz.

As the day closed in you grew more and more nervous. Packing up your things you stumbled your way into Chiron’s boat.

In these few days that you’ve take the liberty to learn Underworld, Chiron has become of the closest people you have here, only second to Nyx. Thus he can see right through you as you fidget around.

“What has got you? Did you sneak up another one those secret potions of Hekarte?”

“No, and I didn’t sneak up anything the last time either!” You whine. “I just confused it for her herbal tea. She conjures up a new recipe for those everyday anyway”

“I just don’t want you to grow any fangs or anything” he has a laugh at your silliness as you huff and puff.

“What is it?”

“What’s what?” You act indifferent.

“What is it that got into your teeny brain making you jitter around in my teeny boat?”

“There’s nothing” you shrug.

“Oh C'mon. Let the old man some peace and spill the beans.”

“Yeah, you’re old.” You say rolling your eyes. “And I’m a wee baby”

“You are, to me”

“Shut up!” His laughs echos making you resonate as well.

There is a pause after your laughter dies down. Only for for the sound of the water against the oars.

“Tell me what is it. You’ll feel better”

You will. You know. You stare at your clammy hands as the playfulness drains your cheeks.

“I have to talk to him”

“Hm you sound determined”

“I have to be”

“Do you want me to join?”

“No, I’ll have to do it alone.”

“You sure about that? Don’t want me to show him the guns? It has been long since I’ve seen him. About time he meets the boys.”

Chiron says kissing his barely existing biceps and you have to laugh your head off at the sight.

“Hey, don’t stress yourself out.” He smiles the way that gets wrinkles by his eyes making him look much older. “He is a bit thick in here” he taps his temple earning a chuckle from you. But then you realize you’ve stopped. You’ve reached your destination.

He helps you out of the boat as usual. But today he smiles at you as he whispers a “All the best”. You nod with gratitude.

~

Your steps fall heavily echoing through the halls. You don’t feel ready but this is it. Your feet carry you to his chamber. Something in you tells you he’s there. And you hope against hope that he is, because if he isn’t then you don’t have the courage to find him or talk to him again on another occasion.  And your prayers are answered as you find the door closed but not bolted.

You knock.

No answer.

You knock again.

Silence.

You take upon yourself to push the door open, or maybe it was the frustration of not being approached first, but either way you step inside with a bang that jolt Harry up from his slumber.

“Who’s that?”

You stare at the puffy eyed Harry with his messy hair staring back at you.

“Oh, it’s you.”

“You don’t sound very glad.”

“Hm I just didn’t expect you.”

Did you ever?

“Are you busy?”

“Just catching a wink. Tell me.”

He gets up pouring himself some water.

“I wanted to join you in duty”

“What?”

“The duty I came to do?”

His face drops at the reminder, it’s the duty you came back for. He nods.

“You’ll need training.”

“Excuse me?”

All these days of just lying around in captivity and it’s now that he remembers about training?

“What? It’s not a child’s play to govern the real of the most notorious. You have to have training first.”

“What do I have to do?”

He think a bit. “Just sit there looking calm and authoritative, mostly”

Your jaw drops. “I need training for that?!” You seethe at him.

“Try being all calm when there are millions of souls at your feet begging for mercy.”

You stay silent.

“Nice save.”

“Thanks” he says plopping himself down beside you.

There’s a pause. You can’t help your mind going back to the last encounter you had with him. Staring at the door you start thinking of excuses to runaway right now. Do you even need excuses now?

“I didn’t know if you want me to meet you”

Another pause.

“I did.”

He nodded, though you didn’t face him you felt it.

“I knew…. Heard about Kore’s groves”

“Do you mind?” You turn to him suddenly remembering his hesitations to let you out in the realm.

“No, I think it sounds nice. You made your mark in your new home”

Your heart warmed up at his words against your will.

“It’d be nice if we could be like before as well”

“Before as in when I was in your captive?”

He froze. “I have only one explanation lil’ one, if you’ll allow me” You don’t say a word. You don’t move an inch. “I chose you. You, in particular, were never gifted to me. Yes, we had a deal. And according to that deal I could have taken anyone of his daughters. But it was you I chose. And I don’t even say that you need to reciprocate. You can choose whoever you want as your consort. But I have chosen to serve you as my Queen forever.”

“Don’t you think that’s a bit unfair?” You look at him from the corner of your eyes, the first time your eyes meeting since you walked in. “It’s pressurising me into choosing you as you’ve already chosen for yourself. It’s like having to choose the last morsel because that’s all that’s left!”

He chuckles, “Never have I ever been compared to the last morsel before. But no. It is not! Fates knows there are so many God’s who take partners for themselves other than their consorts. And being the Queen you’re free to your will. It is just me declaring that I am not to take anyone other than you, even if you don’t take me.”

“That is still not fair.”

“I will never do what’s not fair to you, lil’ one”

“How would I know that after all you’ve done?” You feel anger bubbling inside you.

“I know, it seems far fetched but it was all for you! I’ll never do anything against you is what I mean!”

“You are unbelievable”

“No, you’re not getting it”

“Not getting what?!”

“Leave it.”

“No.” You sit facing him now. Glaring at him with pouting your lips. You’d have thought you must look like a kid right now if you weren’t already this furious. “Tell me. Right now.”

Harry takes a deep breathe. He slowly turns to face you. And when your eyes meet, the spring green of his eyes rimmed by the redness of sleep, it knocks the breathe out of your lungs. But you don’t say anything.

He opens his mouth but only to swipe his tongue over his bottom lip. He doesn’t know how to proceed. And you think if you listen close, you can feel his heartbeat as well. And that makes you nervous.

“What I’m trying to say is… ”

And at last he takes a deep breath in as if he is going to dive into the deep ocean and throw out what he has kept buried in the depth of the abyss of his heart.And then it comes.

“I love you”

#so here it goes #written in an hour after being deleted once #thanks tumblr #the only one #my writing #hades!harry #I didn't read all the previous parts before writing this so if there's any discontinuity #sue me

[lu-undy]

Chapter 10 - SBT

Here it is!

Mundy parked the van in front of the place he had had his breakfast twice in a row now. Unusual enough to remember it, eh. He exited it and shut the door before sitting at the terrace. It was close to 8pm now and the sky was still blue. The days were long and lazy, which he could both appreciate or absolutely abhor depending on his mood and what he had done during the day. Today however, he didn’t feel anything in particular and didn’t pay much attention to it. His mind was still on the people he had met. Phil and Matt. They had brought him ten years back. Or maybe they had slapped the past ten years across his face…?

“Hey, there!”

His train of thought was broken by the woman in front of him. It was her, the waitress from that place, E.

“Hey.” He answered.

“Ready?” She asked.

“For what?” 

“For tonight!” She winked and started walking away. Like a reflex, the Australian found himself on his feet and following her steps.

“Where’re you goin’?” He asked.

“Somewhere calm.” She answered and grabbed his arm. 

“Oh, alroight…” He chuckled his nervousness away.

“But first, let’s grab something.”

“Okay.”

Mundy let her guide his steps. His mind was still half thinking about his encounters of the day. They had made a strong impression on him and he kind of wished that he could be alone a bit more to think about it all calmly. 

Instead, here he was… He looked down at her and smiled. She was wearing a light pink tanktop and a short denim skirt with black heels.

“So, what have you been up to today?” She asked.

“Seein’ people.”

“Friends?” She asked.

“Yeah, old friends.”

“How did it go?”

“Alroight.”

Silence fell and they took a turn to another street. Soon they stopped and got some take-away.

“Alright, what do you say to going to my place to eat this?” She asked.

“Sure.”

She smiled and looked up at him. He could feel something was different. It might have been the light of the setting sun that shone differently on her now. 

“Cool, I don’t live very far away.”

Still holding on his arm, she led the way and after a few minutes slithering through the streets, they soon found themselves in E’s apartment, on her sofa. The plastic bags and boxes of take-away thai food were laid on the coffee table and they were both digging in.

“So, your uh, friends, you said they were old friends, right?” She asked.

“Yeah.”

“How old? How did you get to know them?”

“Well, uh… Phil I started to know something like… pff, more than fifteen years ago for sure. He helped me start and he’s always been helpful in my work.”

“You said you were a hunter right?”

“Yeah.”

“And you told me that you hunted poachers?”

Mundy nodded.

“How many of them have you managed to catch?”

Mundy’s eyebrows jumped. 

“Oh, uh, I don’t know… But uh, people called me back which I guess means that they were happy with the job.”

She chuckled.

“What?” He raised his head off the noodles that he was finishing. He grabbed his bottle of beer and sipped on it.

“You haven’t been saying much so far. I’m just… A bit surprised.”

“Ah, sorry, mate… I’m just uh, I have work stuff in my head. I shouldn’t, I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok, I can understand.”

As he wanted to make it up to her, Mundy held the other bottle of beer out for her. She raised her eyes to it and with a smile, she took it in her hand. The Aussie started asking more questions.

“And you, what’ve you been up to today?”

"Well, not much, same old. I've been the good old waitress without too much of a story, in that pub that has just as much history to it…"

"Ah, c'mon, don't be too hard on yerself. Have you looked into the gardenin' stuff?" He asked and her eyes lit up, looking up to him. 

"Oh, uh, n-not yet." 

"You should. You really seem to like this stuff…" 

His eyes scanned the room quickly and he saw all the plants here and there. E's flat was almost covered in green. It was thin leaves here, cacti, large leaves there, all brushed the air and seemed to thrive in her relatively narrow apartment. 

"And you sure have a talent. Only plant I can take care of is a cactus." Mundy said and she chuckled. 

"Yeah, well, it's a start!" She said. “I can teach you if you want. Plants are like us. They need some water, a bit of sunshine, and bob’s your uncle! They’re exactly like us humans.”

“Might explain it, then.” He answered more to himself than to her.

“Oh, c’mon…! Tell you what. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to buy a plant.”

His eyebrows jumped. Tomorrow, I’ll take you to buy a plant. 

“Well, someone’s got plans for me.” Mundy answered.

“And I’ll show you how to take care of it. You’ll see, it’s super easy!”

“If you say so…”

“How hard can it be to water a plant when you go around arrestin’ poachers?”

“Wow, I’m no policeman. I don’t arrest anyone. I just…”

“You stop them?”

“Yeah, I guess. Or at least I try.”

“Don’t be too modest.” She nudged him with her elbow playfully and he smiled faintly.

"By the way, guess what my name is…"

"E?" He answered. 

"Yeah, what does it stand for?" 

"I don't know…"

"E for what?" She asked. "And don't say Elephant!"

They both laughed. 

"Nah, definitely not." He looked at her silhouette and his eyes met hers. 

"So, E like what…?" She asked.

"E like… Excellent with plants apparently?"

"Apparently?" 

"Yeah nah, I mean you're really good with them." 

"Yeah, I get around…"

"She says as her place's fully green with them."

She chuckled and both leaned back on the sofa. 

"But yeah, uh, E like… Elena?"

"Nah."

"Elizabeth?"

"Do I look like an Elizabeth?!"

"Nah, true… Uh…" 

She leaned her head on his shoulder. 

"Eva?"

"Nah."

"What about uh… Emily?"

"Closer!"

She put her hand on his chest and looked up at him. He was staring at the wall in front of him, visibly focusing on the task at hand.

"Emmy?"

"Very close." 

She raised her head and their faces were a few inches away. 

"Emma?"

Her hand slid from his chest to his cheek. It stung, as the man had a bit of a stubble there. She smirked.

"Bingo..."

And Emma put her lips on his. He saw her close her eyes and he let her have her way. 

She kissed him. 

One of her hands went to his hat that she threw away, the other to his hair, ruffling the already messy locks that were hidden most of the time under his old, worn out hat.

She kissed him. 

Emma straddled his thighs and pushed him to lie on the sofa, on his back. She was on top of him and giggled as she undid the buttons of his polo shirt.

She kissed him. 

And all he could feel as she removed his shirt, trousers and soon what was underneath, was the cold bite of the night on his bare skin. 

Mundy woke up first the next day. He picked up his clothes off the floor, put them on and left. It was very early still. The Australian walked in the streets all the way back to his van. She had been quietly waiting for him. He looked at her and lowered his head. 

Mundy put the hand on the door and sighed. He looked right, left and behind before jumping in. He sat in and drove off. He needed to go far. Far and away. 

He let the sound of the van's engine answer the questions in his head. They dulled his doubts away. Mundy was now well out of town. His mouth was dry, he needed a good coffee at least. 

The orange of the desert was soon replaced by green as he entered a forest. Mundy let the van guide him somewhere where he was the only human and thus safe. He needed to have some alone time with his companion.

When she decided to stop, the van was parked next to a lake. No one was there for miles around. Good. Mundy went to the back of his van.

Soon, he left it and stripped naked before walking towards the water, keeping only his hat, glasses and the bar of soap he had just grabbed. Step after step, the water engulfed him until it was reaching his shoulders by which point, he let go of his feet and let the lake carry him.

He didn't swim. Neither did he walk. Mundy let to the lake the responsibility of taking him where it wanted. He laid on his back and floated around. 

Exactly like he had left to Emma the responsibility to-

He shook his head. 

It wasn't the first time it had happened. And it certainly wasn't the last. But one thing was for sure, it always happened the same way. 

Some sheila would come to him and he'd catch her eye. Was it the adventurer's look? The slightly husky voice? He couldn't tell. Maybe it was both. Or neither of them.

The rest of the story? He'd let destiny write it for him. He never put much effort into it. Most of the time, if the sheila made the first move, it's because she knew what she wanted and he just had to play along. 

More than once he would wake up in a bed that wasn't his, next to a body of which he didn't share the warmth and in a body that felt strange as if it wasn't his own. 

Hence, more than once he had come to this very lake. He needed to wash himself. His body and mind. Inside and out. Mundy closed his eyes and frowned. He didn't even know what he felt. He wasn't really feeling his best, for sure, but he hadn't been so for so long that those very words didn't make a shred of sense. 

Feel his best. 

He wasn't good, neither was he bad. He wasn't ashamed, nor proud. The more he eliminated the words to qualify his state of mind, the more certain he was of what he felt. 

Empty. 

He felt empty, as if his soul was swimming in a shell that was hard and dead, like a slug in a snail's shell. It looked alright from the outside but it didn't feel right for the slug inside. It didn't make sense. 

He didn't like it either, this feeling. But was it worth getting all worked up and sweat it? Nah. And it wasn't worth shedding tears for either. So he shall remain just as he is. 

A man floating on the surface of a lake, expecting nothing, trusting the water to do with him as she wanted. 

Like with sheilas.

He opened his eyes. The sky was shining brighter as the sun had fully risen above the East now. Mundy took the control of his body again and, realising he had drifted quite far from his van, he swam back before washing himself and slipping back to his van. 

The tall man dried himself before slipping some clean, if crumpled, clothes on and driving back to the city. It was high time he had some breakfast. As usual, he let the van drive him. She chose a slightly fancier place than usual but it was at the other end of the city from Emma’s workplace, which was exactly what he needed. The Australian found a parking slot easily and soon, he found himself inside the… What was it?

It was fancier than the regular pub, more modern for sure. It had a vague American feel to it. There was what looked like a jukebox in a corner and the wall behind it was covered in headlines from American newspaper. That one was about the moon landing, that other one about the election of Kennedy and another about his assassination…

“Hey there, how can I help?”

The voice of the young waitress broke his train of thought. 

“Oh, uh, coffee please?”

“Black?”

“Yeah.”

“Anything to go with that?”

“Uh… Yeah but uh… I don’t really know…”

“If you feel tired, go with somethin’ soft like uh, a croissant maybe?”

His eyes rose to hers. Did he look that miserable that a stranger could tell or had she said that out of pure chance?

“Alroight, I’ll go with that.”

“Cool. Anythin’ else?”

“Nah, that’ll be all.”

“Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Thanks.”

The Aussie looked on the table. The only thing that could show him his face was the metal tin box that contained the paper towels. He didn’t look that bad. The bags under his eyes weren’t that big or dark. Actually the bath in the lake had pumped a bit of life back into him and he started to feel the benefits of it.

“And one coffee and a croissant for the gent’ here!”

The young woman put the cup and the plate on the table. 

“Enjoy!”

“Cheers.”

#tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #sniperspy #SBT

[lexfritterwrites]

Let Lips Do What Hands Do - Part 11

Y’all, I haven’t posted in here since they updated it so everything might be terrible. Anyway, I’ll do my best. You can always catch me on AO3. 

previous

It's April, and Addie feels like crying most days. In fact, she actually has cried for the past eleven days — once in the shower, twice over her cup of tea and the other times where when she was in bed alone. Taron's been filming in Ireland for three weeks, and it's a glimpse at how life would be if they were to stay together in all the madness.

 "Sad again, huh?" Jack says, catching the gray look in her eyes. "I feel I should be offended you're not that upset about leaving me."

 Addie throws a sugar packet at him, hitting her mark on his cheek. "I know things between us won't change when I leave. You'll just be a phone call away."

 "Taron will too."

 "That's different. I don't think I like this ache, this pain." Addie absently stirs her tea. "In the words of Elphaba, 'If that's love, it comes at much too high a cost.'"

 "You know she ends up with the scarecrow at the end of that musical, right? I mean, we saw it together. I wrote a review which you edited."

 Addie rolls her eyes, too done to deal with Jack today.

 "I love him, you know. And to think we won't be together because of our location, I think I would rather not be with him at all."

 "Your call," Jack says. "I know you're scared but I think the two of you could make it work, and that's coming from a guy who stays away from relationships. You don't have to split because you're half a world away."

 "What if he meets the one but can't act on it because of me? Or what if he does act on it and I'm left devastated? It's a real poop chute."

 "It'll work out, Addie," Jack says, covering her hand with his own. "It'll work out."

 Addie slumps and rests her head on the table. "Why?"

 Jack gently musses her hair. "You didn't not date for years while you were here and the first guy you do consider turns out to be fuckin' perfect. You really know how to pick them."

 Addie laughs, feeling a little lighter at the thought.

   It's her whole year on display, the premiere of the students' films adapted from classic novels. Four fully written, produced and edited films will be turned in with her thesis, but the gala tonight will only feature twenty minutes from each with the students having a few moments to present before their film. It's an affair she's invited the whole school to as well as their family and friends, and even though Jack is by her side, the one person she wants to be there most isn't. Taron's caught filming in Ireland; Addie understands but still doesn't enjoy it.

 "Look at what you've done," Jack says, watching the rows of students talk excitedly amongst themselves, no doubtedly ready to display their hard work. "Not even a full teacher yet and you've got them inspired. That's a noble thing."

 Addie squeezes his hand. She takes the microphone and heads to the center of the stage. Pausing a moment before delivering the introduction she's prepared, she smiles. The kids eagerly sitting before her are a tribute to her and her hard work and creativity, and this life is about her just as much as it is Taron.

 She takes her seat next to Jack as the first group's film rolls across the screen, an updated retelling of Sense and Sensibility. It's funny, well thought and inclusive of the community, what with Edward Ferris having evolved into Edwina and Colonel Brandon an Indian man in the British navy. Everyone claps as the students presenting The Picture of Dorian Gray take the stage. Addie's phone buzzes in her pocket and she risks a quick chance to look at it.

 Can we watch the full-length versions this weekend? - T

 Sure, if you want. - A

 I do! At least that one. I'm dying to see how they did the marriage proposals. - T

 Addie whips her head around, looking to see him somewhere. There are faces illuminated by the screen but then she sees him, sitting on the edge of the row with his hood pulled up over his head; no doubt he didn't want to be recognized. He waves slightly when he sees her, and Addie smiles.

 He came after all.

 I'm so happy you're here! - A

 I'm really glad I could make it. Will sneak to bar at end so as not to detract. - T

 Sounds perfect. - A

 Thank you for coming. - A

 Addie is extremely proud of everything the students accomplished, and the cooking class made a giant cake for the ocassion. She sneaks a piece for Taron in her bag, poses for pictures with the kids, compliments the parents for raising some great hopes for the future, and then she's dashing out the door.

 "Adelaide, you're incredible!" Taron says, standing up from the table. He wraps his arms around her and kisses her cheek.

 "I can't believe you're here," she says, her face buried in his neck. "How'd you manage?"

 "Flew in this afternoon," he says. "Wanted to surprise you."

 "I'm very surprised," she says. "Very happy, too."

 Taron kisses the side of her head before pulling away to point her to a secluded booth. "I want to hear all about the rest of the videos. When can we watch them?" He holds her hand across the table, leaning towards her.

 Addie bites the inside of her lip, studying him. "What's wrong?"

 "What?" Taron asks, shifting backwards. Addie knows she was right to expect something.

 "Taron, I know you," she says quietly. "I know when something's up. What is it?"

 "No, Adelaide. I came here to celebrate you and the work you've done and I don't want it spoiled."

 "I feel like it's already spoiled if you don't tell me what's going on. Is everyone okay? Your mom and the girls? Your dad?"

 "Everyone's fine." He exhales loudly, looking at the table. "It's two more weeks."

 "Oh." Addie sags against the cushion. "Oh."

 Taron rubs her knuckles with his thumb. "I know it's really shitty, but it is what it is."

 "It's okay," Addie manages over the lump of emotion lodged in her throat. She feels like she's gagging but it's just the thought of his absence for another two weeks just a couple of months before she's supposed to move back to the United States. "You chase your dream and I'll chase mine."

 "Thus, though we cannot make our sun stand still, yet we will make him run."

 Addie snorts, swiping a tear off her cheek. "Marvell. Good choice."

 "Anyway," Taron says. "We've got tonight."

 "Bob Seger, a modern poet."

 It's Taron's turn to laugh now and he shakes his head. "Seriously though, can I take you out to dinner and then stay up with you all night watching the work of your students?"

 "Yes, I would like that."

 "Good," Taron says, moving quickly from the table. He drops a note on its surface and helps Addie back into her coat.

 "Can I make an amendment to the plan though?"

 "What's that?"

 "Can we just pick something up and take it home? I really don't need an audience to just want to be with you and I'm wearing Spanx so I'd really like to get out of them and into my pajamas."

 "Deal," he says. "You look bloody gorgeous but comfortable is something I also enjoy. Your place or mine?"

 "Mine is closer but you have a better TV so let's do that."

 "Sounds perfect," he says. He could offer to run back by hers so she can gather things, but he knows everything she needs is available at his. Tucking her beneath his arm, he kisses the side of her head — she'd taken the news of his delay better than he would have expected.

 They're curled up in his bed and halfway through the updated retelling of Frankenstein when Addie stretches her fingers across his chest.

 "What is it, cariad?" Taron asks, shifting his eyes. He can see the crown of her head and the tip of her nose, and he can see her fingers flex against his shirt.

 "I'm thinking about us."

 "Oh?"

 She pauses the video and sits up, and it's then he sees the tears in her eyes. "I think when I leave, that should be our end."

 "Adelaide." He bolts upright and reaches for her, but his fingers don't actually land anywhere. He can't touch her now.

 "Being apart from you these past few weeks has been hell. I never thought I would be someone to feel this way about anybody, but here we are. I'm exhausted. It feels like a piece of me is missing when you're gone, like smiles are less genuine and laughter does little for my soul. I can't imagine living my life for extended amounts of time without you, feeling this way. So if we just enjoy the time we have left and part as companions who once loved each other, I think that would be better."

 "Do I not get a say in this decision?" He asks softly, his chest tight and his jaw returning to a painful clench.

 "Of course you do," she sighs. "But what is the logical outcome of this?"

 "Fuck this. You can sleep in the guest room tonight." Taron moves in a flash, storms into the bathroom and slams the door shut.

 "Taron! Taron, no!" Addie frantically scrambles off the bed and futilely twists the doorknob. "Taron! Taron, please."

 She can hear the shower running and she sinks to the floor. She knew she shouldn't have said anything.

   Taron finds her half an hour later curled up on the floor with her cheeks red and eyes blotchy. He wants to be angry, he can feel the cold inside him wanting to push her away, but he can't.

 "Addie, come on," he says, gently collecting her in his arms and setting her upright. "I'm hurting too, you know."

 She nods blearily as he leads her back to bed. "I didn't mean to ruin what we have now. I feel like shit, and now I really feel like sh—"

 "Addie, I know," Taron says. "What you're saying makes sense, but it really fucking sucks when it's said out loud. You would rather be without me than be far away and with me, and I suppose that makes sense. Your chances of moving on are better if you're not thinking about some loyalty to me."

 "Me moving on?" She laughs. Taron thinks her crying must have left her too weary to think properly. "It's you. You'll move on long before I will and I don't want you to be stuck with me."

 "That doesn't matter," he says, taking her hand. "I think you're right though. We have a few good weeks left together and we should spend them as happily as we can. Let's not fight or what-if ourselves anymore. You're here, I'm here, and we should let that be enough for now. I can't think on it anymore."

 "Is it really okay?"

 "For now." He wipes a tear from her cheek, knowing his own should be joining it had he not just cried in the shower. "Let's go to sleep and sleep very late into the morning beside each other."

   Taron bites his nail, a habit he'd gotten into since ditching cigarettes; his teeth weren't thanking him but his lungs certainly were.

 "There he is," Jack says, pulling out the chair across from Taron and sinking into it. "Mr. Egerton."

 "Jack," Taron says, shaking his hand. "I wanted to talk to you about Addie."

 "I figured," Jack says. "She told me about her plans of departure."

 "Yeah, and it's not good. How do I get her to stay?"

 “You don’t."

 "Jack, please," Taron says, rubbing his forehead. "I can't have her leave."

 "And you can't have her stay either." Jack says softly. "I know you love her, Taron, as do I, but I also know she won't stay. She'll come to regret the decision as well as you if she stays. Going back to Washington has been her goal for six years. It's all she's worked for and all she's wanted. You need to let her go."

 "Can you?"

 Jack snorts his laugh. "I don't have a choice."

 "We could talk to her together."

 "That's not going to work."

 Taron drops his head to the table, his chest feeling unbelievably tight. "I don't know what to do."

 "Taron, there's an obvious solution here."

 "What's that?"

 "Go with her."

 Taron grunts. "You and I both know that's not logical."

 "So what? You can't do for her what you want her to do for you just because you're a famous actor who happens to make more money?" Jack leans back in his chair. He's really liked Taron, like him for Addie, and he needs Taron to see the sense in this before his like gives into loathing. "You're not giving up her dream so don't let her give up hers."

 "She's your best friend. How can you be so calm?" Taron crosses his arms in front of him, elbows still on the table, and he lets his chin fall to rest against them.

 "Addie is more than a best friend to me," Jack says. "I truly believe she is my person, even if there's no romance. Addie wasn't even supposed to be born, yet here she is. Incredibly determined, driven and happy."

 "I know that." Taron leans onto his cheek.

 "I know you do," Jack says patiently. "That's part of the reason you love her." He reaches across the table and squeezes Taron's shoulder. "You have to let her go."

 "Why is that the only option?" Taron moans, rhetorically putting the words into the universe.

 Jack chuckles as he leans back in his chair. "That's the only way she'll come back."

 "You think she'll come back?"

 "I hope so," Jack says. "For both our sakes."

 Taron laughs. He'll have to make time for Jack when Addie is gone.

 He finds her asleep on the couch when he returns home, and he gently brushes a hand across her face.

 She opens one eye to look and smiles when she sees him. “I must have dozed off.”

 “Yeah,” he says softly. It spreads through him, a calm peace. She is leaving to pursue her dreams, and there is nothing he can do to stop her, nor would he want to. He kisses her tenderly, finally accepting it. “You want to go take a nap upstairs?”

 “That sounds nice,” she says, sitting up next to him. “Hey, are you okay?”

 Taron smiles and kisses her again. “I’m totally fine. I just really love you.”

 Addie’s laugh warms him and she leans her head against his shoulder. “I love you, too.”

 Taron takes her hand and quietly leads her upstairs.

#taron egerton #taron egerton fanfiction #taron egerton fan fiction #let lips do what hands do

[sormikbigbang]

Masterpost

We’ve come to the end of the SorMik Big Bang 2019! Before we move on to the master post for 2019, we would like to express our sincerest thanks to all of you. It has been a wild ride and us mods couldn’t thank our participants enough for being such lovely people to work with. There’ll also be a feedback form the participants can fill in! The link will be distributed through email and shared in our discord server. We would like to know how you think about us and how you would like us to improve through our feedback form!

If you missed your chance this year, don’t worry, we’ll be back again in 2020! Do stay tuned for some exciting information on where this event will be going next year!

Without further ado, here’s the master post for all entries of SorMik Big Bang 2019!

Masterpost

(Announcement: Not all artists/writers have posted their works yet, so this masterpost will be updated gradually as they post until everyone has posted.)

As Soft as Feathers by Kagaminekupcake | Art by Melly Mel (still yet to be posted) & KimmySnacks

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:  Two kingdoms lay near one another, and with the queens sharing a friendship, they thought it only natural to continue the friendly relations through their successors. Prince Sorey and Prince Mikleo grew up, therefore, spending their summers together and sharing memories over the pages of dusty novels. However, upon Sorey’s near coronation, Selene informs Mikleo that she plans to betroth him to a princess of another land. Mikleo argues heatedly with her before storming out of the castle, but he was never seen afterwards. All Sorey could find in the rain was his circlet- a prized possession he knew Mikleo would never leave behind. Maybe the swan he discovers in the forest in the following days can give him a clue as to where Mikleo has gone…

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Dola625 | Art by  mallowkey 

Ranting:  General Audiences

Summary:  Luvdisc love fortune has set its sight upon a pair of childhood friends who need just an extra push with tons of water, a sunset and of course Mikleo and newly smitten Luvdisc.

La Fragilité Des Grues en Papier by Naminette | Art by Kinsdura

Ranting: Mature

Summary:  Was it possible that his mother's tales were true?  A sacred mountain where the Kamis' sanctuary lay. Away from the human world they lived in. Wings adorn their back, divine beings that were one with nature. This is were Mikleo place was, where he would be safe and happy. Until years after a plague broke into the village in the valley and a young human had no choice left but to seek the gods' help without knowing how it would change Mikleo's world.

Everything you left behind by Strikedawn | Art by Retto

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: After his uncle's death, Mikleo is forced to run away from his office for the weekend and tend to Camlann, Michael's old manor and his own childhood home. The house has seen better times-- Mikleo definitely won't be able to sell it like this.

(Does he even want to?)

But his uncle's metaphorical ghost isn't the only thing within those walls. There is Lailah and Zaveid, who have made of Camlann their house as much as Michael did. There is Sorey, with his lovely smile, his pure intentions, and his love for the decrepit house. They are everywhere in the house, making it theirs, making Mikleo feel... things. Mikleo definitely won't be able to sell the house like this.

(But then again--does he even want to?)

Demons, Mysteries, and Feathery Celestialness by Sage | Art by Oliver Niko & Vonderer

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary:  Sorey is a cop. When his current case turns out to involve elements both demonic and angelic, he suddenly finds himself both in over his head and with a new partner. Neither he nor the angel Mikleo are particularly happy to be saddled with each other. Can they work through their differences to solve the case?

Moon Phases by Melly Mel | Art by Raine 

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: "The Sun has long fallen in love with the Moon and has done everything in his reach to conquer its heart, but the timid and stubborn Moon has always rejected it, afraid of these feelings. Time will teach that one cannot simply ignore such a strong and true love for so much time."

A story that tells how Sorey, the sun prince, falls ill for love after so many years trying to conquer the love of Mikleo, the moon prince, who’s not willing to believe him and misunderstand everything.

Fountain of Youth, the Elixir of Eternal Life by MegumitheGreat | Art by ZYO

Ranting: Explicit

Summary: At Lailah's request, Sorey and Mikleo take a break from their adventure and go through Pendago Shrinechurch's library. Coming across a legend titled "Shelanoir's Forest", they find themselves trapped within its pages and living the roles of the characters inside.

Resonance and Resistance by Eachainn | Art by Illium

Ranting: Mature

Summary: After eight years apart, Mikleo is more than ready to pick of the threads of the hopes and dreams that they had left drop when Sorey had left for Pendrago. But things are rarely that easy, especially when the Shepherds are involved. After all, it is a truth universally acknowledged that a Shepherd in possession of a good resonance must be in want of a seraph.

A Sormik Regency Era AU

Chasing Dreams by RoyalDelirium | Art by Mewnia

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: And this is where their tale begins, they did not really know what would await them out there, but they had dreams to chase and questions to answer. As long as they were together nothing could escape their grasp.

The Best Tour by  Spectrum-sanctuary | Art by ArdentKnight & Unko (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: In the archaic city of Ladylake where there are more canals than brick pathways, boats called gondolas are the major mode of transportation and location of work. The most renowned of these occupations are those who guide tourists around the romantic and historic marvels of the city while rowing the gondolas, the gondoliers.

Seventeen-year-old Mikleo is among them, renowned for not only being young but also graceful and skilled with the oar. When he meets the newly-arrived student Sorey in the city, his usual life among the waves and ruins transforms into a tale of adventure and excitement... and perhaps even love.

The Gang Crashes a Party While in Drag by Pengiesama | Art by Nami & Minstrels

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: Sorey and the crew investigate reports of a black market trafficking ring, and zero in on a particularly nasty noble at the center of it all. Luckily, said noble is opening his chateau to host a masquerade – the perfect opportunity to get close. Unluckily, the Shepherd’s fame has spread wide, and Sorey needs a disguise to make sure he’s incognito.

This is achieved by the obvious solution, and that's to disguise him in a dress and pass him off as Rose's sister. What could possibly go wrong?

Sir Sorey and the River Dragon by Treya-barton | Art by Kishi

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: Sir Sorey is a curious, gentle knight from the kingdom of Ladylake ruled by a fair and beautiful Queen. One day she is approached by a village with news that they are being plagued by a dragon that is blocking their access to a river they use for trade. Sir Sorey is sent on a quest to investigate this dragon in order to resolve the villager's dilemma.

The Benefits of Being Impulsive by  FortunesRevolver | Art by Aimi

Ranting: General Audiences

Summary: It had all started out of sheer spite -- Sorey’s own bizarre desperate need to prove to his grandfather that he wasn’t that impulsive. Really, if he really wanted impulsive, Sorey could be impulsive. Or, maybe, somewhere deep down, he’d just wanted to talk to the really, really pretty boy sitting by the pool with stunningly white hair who just happened to be holding a copy of his favorite book series ever.

Art by MegumitheGreat (Their writer wasn’t able to get to finish due to personal reasons, but still asked MegumitheGreat to post their art anyway because it’s so cool!) 

Trust, Betrayal and Beyond by Sabi | Art by Mikleohno

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: A long time ago, the country was separated into two factions: the Lotus faction and the Lily faction. Both factions had opposing ideals, which resulted in a war that lasted for decades. The war finally ended when the Lotus faction killed the Lily faction’s leader, thus bringing peace back to the land. Our story takes place a century later, focusing on Mikleo, the prince of the kingdom, who is doing everything he can to repair this country, as well as his new servant, Sorey, whose background is shrouded in mystery.

Eyes on the Horizon by Oliver Niko | Art by Siciel

Ranting: Mature

Summary: Mikleo is a nobleman kept captive for the magic he possesses. Sorey is a pirate, his crew determined to grant freedom to those with said magical capabilities.

The two are brought together not by this alone, but also by their similarities; the goal to do whatever it takes to protect Rolance's people from its corrupt emperor, and find the truth behind their missing mothers along the way.

The Color of Twilight by Luneath | Art by Succu (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Teen And Up Audiences

Summary: “Ever since that day, Sorey has been looking for something. Desperately, yearningly, painfully. It's like chasing after a dream that’s hiding underneath his eyelids, almost there but not really. Just within reach, but could never be grasped fully. It’s like running after a figure — a blurred one, tinted blue, who owns half of his soul; his heart and his life. But he can’t remember. He knows, but never for sure. He just feels his heartstrings being tugged, but never to where or by whom. The more he tries to make sense of everything, the more he realizes it would hurt more to never find whatever’s — whoever’s gone. The only thing that gives him hope is the writing on his palm, tattooed in elusive curves that makes him feel warm and safe and nostalgic and a little like breaking. What’s written there, the meaning and the purpose — he doesn’t understand it at first. Not until some time. But even then, he swears he’s going to find whatever it is. And when he does, he’s never letting it go ever again."

[A Kimi no Na Wa (Your Name) AU featuring time travel, fluffy angst, switching bodies and switching lives, plus true loves and true names.]

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Miranda | Art by Okke (still yet to be posted) & Narain Yuna

Ranting: Explicit

Summary:  Clergyman!Sorey x Non-Believer!

Mikleo The heavy wooden doors opened and closed with an echo throughout the chapel, all but empty save for the decorative lanterns with the names of the twelve apostles lining the pillars leading up to the alter, the hand-carved plaques in the right-wing hallway depicting the Stations of the Cross of the same number donated by the generous family, and the overwhelming but whole-fully welcomed presence of Him which he felt. 

Sorey loved getting to do this-- well, he loved pretty much every aspect of his stay here as part of his training, but this was probably one of his top favorites: waking up to the early morning sun and say his morning prayers, picking some berries from his little garden as part of his breakfast before freshening up, and coming down to the church before Gramps arrived to start the day. He wasn't sure what made him want to say another morning prayer in the chapel when there was no need whatsoever. Perhaps it was simply just seminary habits or wanting the chapel to feel less... big? Lonely?

Or dusty? 

He chuckled at the thought and shaking his head, and joyfully continued to walk towards the alter. Thinking back to his childhood, it use to be a dark green stone like the rest of the flooring. In it's place now was a white marble with gray veins scattering sparingly here and there. Gramps wasn't sure who thought it was a good idea, and Sorey didn't really pay it much attention.

As he approached the alter and began to kneel, pulling out his mini prayer booklet from his pocket, the front double doors opened and closed yet again. Hm, strange, Sorey thought for a moment. Normally Gramps doesn't come in this early since traffic from... 

When he turned around to greet the wise old man who practically raised him from birth, Sorey was taken aback to see a young man with long dyed hair, faded black skinny jeans, and a somewhat revealing white and blue sweater with a v-neck that fell to show the side of his collar bone. Wait, was it dirty...?

It could've been the way he seemed to hold himself together-- just barely and could hardly seem like he wasn't shaking. It could've been the way his eyes, a deep blue from this distance, almost pleaded for mercy and safety. It could've just as easily been the way the light hit his unblemished face, his aquamarine tresses... 

Sorey knew, deep down, that he would never forget this moment. Someone or something must have whispered something to his heart or to his soul that day, to never let this memory go.

Fanfic still yet to be posted by Mogseltof | Art by Lynxlantern & Ammerynth (still yet to be posted)

Ranting: Mature

Summary: Since he was young, Sorey’s been friends with the curious, withdrawn sailor everyone in his seaside town avoids. Now he’s an adult, struggling to find material for his research, but his withdrawn friend has recently been made captain of his ship, and Sorey is offered the opportunity he’s been looking for -- the chance to get out of his town and see the places he’s actually researching. But Sorey has another reason to want to be out on the sea; they say there are mermaids in the waves, and Sorey has to know if his memories ring true, or if he imagined the boy in the river so many years ago. However, the voices of the dead sing loudly from the deep, and the captain is hiding something that may get them all in trouble.

We hope you enjoy the masterpieces made by our talented participants! See you again next year!

#Sormik #sormikbigbang2019 #toz #tales of zestiria #masterpost #sorey #mikleo #fanfic #fanart #mod post

[tribridkissed]

Everything Afflicting Lil’ Ol’ Me…

Sleep Paralysis:

Starting off with the basics here because this has been what sort of started it all. When I was little, I was super into the whole idea of spirits. I honestly still am for different reasons, but it started when I was young and having sleep problems. The doctors still don’t know why it started, but I’ve always thought I sensed ‘presences’ so I told ghost stories…because I saw ‘ghosts’ in my sleep, some of which were terrifying and would sit on my chest and I’d still feel that feeling when I woke up, so duh it was real.

When I was a teenager, I started getting these hallucinations far more vividly and the doctors started to take it a lot more seriously, especially when I was getting depressed and suicidal on top of it all. Turned out I had ‘Old Hag’s Syndrome’, or ‘Sleep Paralysis’, and there was now a logical explanation for it. Basically my brain wakes up sometimes before my body does, and I’m paralyzed but I can still see the hallucinations. Feeling pinned down and violated is honestly the worst, and it fucks me up for the rest of the day mentally when it happens. It is why I’m against lucid dreaming, and why I vehemently believe in demons and evil spirits even if doctor’s wanna just call it a hallucination induced by stress. Either way, I have insomnia sometimes too and my sleep is all over the place and that never helps one’s body.

Hormone Imbalances

My hormones have probably been all over the place my whole puberty experience? Like, my periods started out being heavy, irregular and painful. I know that’s mostly normal--we women handle cramps like a boss, okay?--but I would have to stay home from school once or twice in a row every time I got my period, because I was curled up in a ball hurling: much like I do now. Going on birth control helped for a while and then started to make it worse, so we took me off of the birth control and my period started to even out and I stopped getting so sick, unless I ovulated from both sides and not just one, which they found out was also happening. Yay for the possibility of twins naturally, but yikes to the extra hormone surges.

Paraxysmol AFib:

I went through a whole stint of my early 20′s having palpitations in my chest. I just attributed it to my anxiety, and to stress because I had just finished a whole High School career of only honor’s classes, and I had switched from Pre-Med to Early Childhood Development, and so even when the doctors from an arrhythmia, I just sort of dismissed it. I didn't have the time, I was working twelve hours days as a nanny, I was doing college, and I didn't have time...and then I had an AFib attack after exercising and ended up having chest pain.

That pain lasted a month and a half without going away or getting any better, I had a bunch of doctors tell me I was being a hypochondriac, and then I got put on a heart monitor. The heart monitor caught not one but two episodes in the span of three weeks, and it was only then that they took me seriously. So even though I was ‘too young’ and ‘healthy’, I ended up becoming a heart patient at the ripe old age of 25, and it has been part of my life ever since. I take medicine daily to keep my heart rate down, because it beats too fast on its own, and I had to cut down on coffee, which...I was a caffeine addict so that was rough, lol. I’ve had to change dosages, which stresses my body out for a week each time that happens, and it has just been who I am now. I have heart patient jewelry and everything, just in case of emergencies.

Cyclic Vomiting Syndrome

So this all brings me to the next big thing: cyclic vomiting syndrome. I have been sick for 6 months now, nauseous basically every day, vomiting stints every once in a while that land me in urgent care to get IV fluids and meds because nothing will stay in my stomach, it all comes up. This started back in August, now known actual cause, and it has been my main affliction these days. I am on antacid medications, my heart medicine still, and anti nausea I have to take every single day. My body is exhausted, and that’s not even the half of it.

The doctors aren’t even fully sure this is what is going on with me, this is just how they are treating me because they can’t find anything. I have had an MRI, CT scans, ultrasounds, blood tests of all sorts (food allergies, diabetes, etc.), and everything says I am healthy. I have had a tumor removed from my esophagus when they did the endoscopy in the beginning, and I had a history of cysts (I’ve had one in my head, in my arm pits, and now one in my right nasal cavity), and I have a second and third tumor growing in my right arm. They aren’t convinced any of this is related, they just know that my period problem from high school is happening again, so they’re convinced it is hormone induced cyclic vomiting syndrome...which has no for sure cause or cure, so, that has been nice, and has triggered my depression, but I’ve been dealing with my depression my entire life.

Depression/Abuse

Since I was a kid, I’ve had a messed up home life. My uncle did some truly horrible things before he ended up eventually in jail for four life sentences, and short story on that because I simply don’t talk about it, is he used to tape my sister and I shut in boxes, and threaten us with his pet snake. He even through a knife at my cousin once, and would put my sister and up on the top shelf of the closet and leave us there.

On top of that, my Dad was never around much, and he left for good when I was 7, the same year that my grandmother died from the chemo for her ovarian cancer. He is a whole other story in itself, but he only added to my abandonment issues when I was 21 and he showed back up ONLY to talk my sister and I out of making him pay off the back child support he owed (it was a whole thing), and having the audacity to say he stayed away because he loved us...but raised our half siblings, so...just. I don’t like talking about him either.

Then I had a mother who was constantly verbally abusing my sister and I--she still does--and calling us fat even when we were skinny. Telling us we wasted our potential, telling us we’re useless, etc., and only recently getting herself the help she needs for her own emotional issues because she too was abused. Our family is filled with abusers, and she’s much better now that we’ve all addressed we have some problems, but dealing with that on top of all the other things that I deal with now, has been rough.

I feel broken. My mother tells me not to say that, but all of my health issues, and my failed past relationships with boys that have thus kept me single the last three years, make me feel that way. I’m a demisexual person who had two boyfriends cheat because they couldn’t wait for me to be ready for sex, and one basically admit after a little while that he just wanted sex and was “putting up with my feelings until then”, and I dunno, I delved farther into writing and honestly, it has been my only constant.

I’ve been writing stories since I was 6, and this is a hobby, yes, but it is also an escape when I’m not working on my stuff to get published (I’ve actually been a published author since 2011). I’m editing my second book right now and it gets priority sometimes when I’m in a funk, but I have been so sick lately because of my stomach, and just so tired and stressed with work really only keeping me on because they can’t fire me when I have medical reasons and doctor’s notes, and I just thought you guys should know.

I try to be on because writing helps me not think about all of my issues, but sometimes I’m so tired, or so sick, that I just can’t do replies. Plus, my arm with the tumors has been hurting more and more lately, and I may have to get them removed, which will mean another two weeks of a sling and pain meds, and crying myself to sleep because recovery from arm surgery hurts.

So if I’m ever slow, something is up. I love being around to write--it’s my safe space--but I’ve been dealing with a lot lately. I really do love and appreciate all of you, and I’m so grateful that you guys are so patient with me. <3

#out of mystic falls // ooc #damn writing it all out makes me feel a tad sad lmao #tw: sleep paralysis #tw: heart problems #tw: depression #tw: swearing #tw: vomiting mention #tw: period talk #tw: long post #that isn't even all of it because i didn't go into a whole bunch of detail #but that is the just of it guys

[harrieatthemet]

Lucky Numbers

One where Y/N and Harry earned this, at least they thought they did.

*I just really want to apologize for this one. Seriously im so sorry.*

Thirty One.

You’ve never believed in lucky numbers, never found any interest in having one, never saw the purpose in it either. And when people would talk about their lucky numbers, 1 or 5, 7 or 12, you’d discreetly roll your eyes. 

Up until now, because now you’ll tell anyone and everyone that 31 is your luckiest number. 

31 times, that’s how many times you had to take a pregnancy test. And it wasn’t until the 31st try that it came out positive. It took 31 different names to try and find the perfect one, and Harry was over the moon with the 31st name. 

And now you were here, in London, along with Harry for tour and 31 days exactly away from the start of your third trimester.

All the prayers had been answered, every dream had been fulfilled, and every tear simultaneously dried up. After what felt like millions of years trying so unthinkably hard for something that was supposed to be so easily achievable, you’ve got it. Both of you do, and you’re not sure who’s happier about it.

“G’mornin’ button,” he coos, a quick peck delivered to your temple, before he moves to the small peak of your belly “g’mornin’ bump.” 

He can’t help himself. Even if he could, he doesn’t think he could stop. Fondling your bump, that small little bump, showering it with fluttery kisses, singing to it, talking to it, all of it has become a typical part of both of your everyday routines. It’s why you’re here, alongside him during all the hectic traveling for tour, struggling to shimmy on a pair of jeans that have become too tight as of today. 

A wardrobe meeting was 15 minutes away from commencing, he knew that, though it didn’t keep him from scrambling to mute the reminder on his phone so you wouldn’t scold him for lingering in the hotel room. But he couldn’t leave, not just yet. Staying here, sitting behind you on the mangled sheets of the hotel bed was too inviting, as he watched you in the mirror while you fiddled with your hair.

“Y’so sexy,” He breathes, smile crooked and eyes bright, “so sexy, all full o’ me, carrying my baby.”

“Stop it,” you smirk, giving up on your hair and throwing it up into a bun, “m’not, I feel so round you’ll have t’book me an entire row on the flight back home.”

The cackle that comes from him permeates the whole room, and you give him one of those serious looks, forcing him to swallow that breathy laugh, before encouraging him to hoist himself up off the bed and place himself behind you.

“Yeh not tha’ big,” he playful admonishes, “yet, anyways.”

“This is really helping,” you answer sarcastically, “thank you!”

“S’a baby in there, love,” he sings, “growin’ is a good thing, yeah? We worked for this, should enjoy it.”

His words of encouragement, in unison with the small circular strokes his palms make on the base of your petit swollen belly, begin to resonate in your head. You wanted this, so badly, both of you did. And the bigger that belly grew, the fatter you felt and the more sluggish you became, symbolized all of the effort that it took to get there. 

He’s out the door only minutes later, after you had to practically force him out. The strews of ‘be carefuls’ and lectures about how Gemma should keep a close eye on you, on the bump, were bordering annoying. 

“Gettin’ so big, yeah?” Gemma gawks, hands gently cupping the swell of your belly.

“5 months now,” you smile, “she keeps growing.”

She reminds herself to hand you an extra sweater before the two you venture off for an early dinner, upon Harry’s request. Something about it being a little chilly out, and how he expressed to her that it was crucial you keep yourself at a cozy temperature. But thus far, you’ve learned there’s no use in protesting his quirky requests, whether he was present or not. 

But amidst the frantic search for the bulky grey knit sweater Gemma swore she left on the kitchen counter, while she’s running around the first level of her flat searching for the damn thing, you feel it.

That first sharp pain, just in the side of your stomach, though barely there you still feel it. And of course, you downplay it. It goes ignored for a few more moments, until you feel the second one, and this time it’s not as easy to ignore. 

Your hand flies to your oblique, gently pressing up against it in attempt to get the pain to subside. And that’s when Gemma finds the fucking sweater, and she appears back by the front door with it draped over her forearm. 

“(Y/N),” Gemma starts, a gilder of concern in her tone “y’alright?”

“Can I just sit for a minute?” You choke out, and she nods anxiously, “Just a minute, s’all I need.”

And you waddle over to the lounging area, because now the pain is occurring more frequently, more painfully. She’s gotta help you sit down too, and she’s on full alert when you sit down with a loud hiss. 

“Need me t’call Harry?”

“No,” you demand, before softening your tone “no, it’s fine. Just cramping a little, it’ll go away in a minute.”

But it’s already been five, and instead of going away, it’s getting a little bit more and more unbearable. Gemma, though she’s an absolute saint, isn’t helping much either, as she nervously sits vertical from you with eyebrows knit in worry and leg jumping from anxiety. She wants to call Harry, so badly, but she won’t if you really prefer she didn’t.

“M’just gonna get some water,” you breath out hastily, “m’probably dehydrated or something.”

And she insists on getting it for you, begs even, to which you object. Because just because you’re pregnant doesn’t mean you can’t pour yourself a glass of water, and you’re determined to get this pain to quit. 

It’s when you get up, when you’re fully off the couch and near the door, that a worried sigh elicits itself from Gemma. 

“Oh (Y/N),” she gasps, “think y’bleeding.”

“Don’t think I am,” you argue, “I’m fine, Gemma, really.”

“No (Y/N),” she insists, “mean it, s’all over the couch.”

You turn to look, ready to pick a fight, because you’re not bleeding. You can’t be, there’s no way. You’re already 5 months along, in love with this little bump, the happiest you’ve ever been. 31 days away from your third trimester. 31 is your lucky number.

But you see it. In fact you’re painfully aware of it, and upon looking at the grizzly scene on Gemma’s beautiful white sofa, you can feel a foreign dampness in your pants. And the pain is still there, clear as day and sharp as ever, that’s when reality sets in. So does panic.

“Can you call Harry now?”

Now you’re laying flat on your back, in a hospital in the city, an unfamiliar one. There are people chattering in the hallway, doctors congregating outside your hospital wing. All of it is white noise. It’s a little cold in here, and you start thinking about how you should’ve taken that grey knit sweater from Gemma earlier. 

There’s a certain sense of loneliness, an indescribable kind of empty feeling. There’s nobody in the room right now, so it’s just you. Only you and your fleeting thoughts, as Gemma went to phone Anne outside of the room, and the both of you awaited Harry’s arrival. 

“Harry’s on his way up,” Gemma reemerges, a sorry smile on her face, “should be in soon, okay?” 

“Alright.”

The flatness in your tone, lack of emotion, it breaks her heart. And she knows that there’s not much to be said, nothing she says can help right now. It’s why she excuses herself quietly when Harry rounds the corner, hustling into the hospital room out of breath and flustered.

“Okay,” he sighs solemnly, “okay, s’alright. M’right here.”

“I’m so sorry.” You croak out, and his frown only deepens.

Sorry? He’s having a hard time believing the word just came from your mouth. He’s disappointed, sure, and undeniably heartbroken, of course. But there’s nothing for you to be sorry for, nothing you could have done to change the unlucky outcome of this. It makes his chest adopt a hallow ache, one thats worse than the ache that appeared earlier after receiving the news about the miscarriage over the phone.

He settles himself next to you, nestling himself between your body and the rails of the hospital bed. And he’s quick to hush you, quick to tuck a piece of hair hanging in your face to behind your ear, placing a kiss to your temple identical to the one he had given you earlier in the afternoon.

“Don’t want yeh t’carry this burden on y’own,” he murmurs kindly, “can’t fight fate, was jus’ meant t’be.” 

“Didn’t want this to be my fate” Your voice is so small, and shaky, he swears he can feel his heart cracking.

The small, incoherent sniffle that comes from you is enough to break the heart in his chest. There’s so much he wants to say to you right now, so much he wants to do to make this less painful. But he knows none of it will help, none of it can cure the solemn feeling that’s enveloping you, enveloping him. So badly, he wants to take all this hurt from you and carry it himself, feel all your pain and sorrow so you don’t have to, but he can’t, and all he can seem to do that is right is hold you like he is. 

“Gonna,” he exhales, shakily, “gonna put off these next couple ‘o shows. Take a little time off, just you ‘nd me, yeah? S’gonna work out, promise yeh.”

Lucky numbers return to being nothing more than a myth. Because you were sure now that 31 was the unluckiest number of them all.

#harry blurbs #harry styles blurbs #harry styles one shots #harry one shots #harry x y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry drabbles #harry writings #harry concepts #harry fic #harry fanfic #harry fanfiction #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles x reader #harry styles imagines #harry imagines

[the-canary]

Modern Times - B.B (9)

Summary: 1938. Working for the summer in booming Los Angeles, Bucky Barnes has his eyes on a certain dame. (1940′s Reader/Bucky Barnes)

A/N: tbh, i am still tinkering with how long this part of the series is going to be. i have two other things connected to this story moving around in my head, even if ever finish this. this chapter sort of centers around pershing square + echo park. and since the last chapter, thanks to @starfisharchives for her support!  

Feedback is always appreciated.

Late July 1938.

Between helping your mom with your kid brothers, dance school, and working there’s hardly really a time that you can go out with James again after the movies a month back. Yes, you see him near the dance hall to talk every once and awhile, go to his fights with the other girls and Mickey sometimes -- it all seems lie enough for you. You get to see the blue-eyed boxer when you can and it’s a little relief in your day-to-day hassle, but it was a different story for James.

The more James sees of you, even fleeting smile or a joke, he wishes mores that he could spend more time with you. He’s too far away to really spend the whole day with you on his day off, what with the no-good transportation and all, and you were always running around doing something for someone else. James swore you were the hardest working dame he knew, but he had also seen how your little brothers adored you when they came with you to train, how Maria and Clint pushed you forward and seemed so proud of you. You were something else and James wanted to give you a day off.

Thus, he sets about to work.

It’s a strange start to your Saturday morning. Clint had today you to take the day off the night before, your brothers were with your grandpa for the day, as your mother worked and you didn’t have any classes since Mrs. Reis’ was taking her short holiday with her own family. You at in your little boarding room in complete silence, unsure of what to do -- you had nothing and you were lost, that is until you hear a sudden knocking at your door.

“Come on, get get up!” Darcy’s voice throws you into a tizzy, as you get up and open the door. You look at her in complete and utter confusion, as she seems to be holding a long skirt and blouse.

“Darce, what are you planning?”

“Not me, just help’,” she smiles much softer since she still doesn’t have her hair products or make up for the day.

“Who the hell sent ya?”

“One very dizzy man,” she answers with a grin, as you frown not really believing the words that are coming out of her mouth.

Nevertheless, she keeps moving you about the small room, looking through all your long skirts and blouses until she settles on something for you to wear. Darcy keeps smiling the entire time, like she’s the one in love, as she pushes you on your way a little further ways downtown.

Blue eyes glanced at the tropical plants that decorated the foundation at the center of the park, for the lack of a better word. Pershing Square from what he understood was one of the mini parks that were centered in this area, but deep down James knew that it didn’t beat the blocks full of flora and people that made their way through Central Park everyday. He was lucky to be there whenever he had the time and a little extra change, whether taking the girls to play or hanging out with Stevie after checking out some art exhibition he wanted to see.

Los Angeles, at least when James had thought about it, had a lot to offer but it wasn’t like New York -- a city stuck on an island and connected through several different passageways. There were alot of things that could be called “Los Angeles” and it was annoyance to get to some of the areas from where he was located, even harder from the core of the city, especially if you didn’t have a car.

Los Angeles, for all its glitzy promises and sprawling potential,  could never beat New York and he let that with all the homesickness in the world.

“So you’re the reason Darcy sent me here,” a familiar voice breaks him out of his thoughts, as he looks up and can’t help but smile at the sight of you.

“I’m hoping it wasn’t too much trouble,” he starts off as you smile and shake your head, “I’ve been wanting to see a certain place. Maybe you can show me the way?”

You let out a chuckle at the thought of playing tour guide once more, as he gets up and motions to to pairs of bikes he had gotten for the occasion. You stop laughing and look at him with a panic struck gaze for a second.

Now, it’s James’s turn to laugh, as you try to suddenly get out of this.

However, he knows deep down that there is one good thing that his time in Los Angeles has brought him, though he won’t say anything out-loud for now.  

Between failing around on the bike and trying to get your bearings, it takes you and James a good hour getting to Echo Park. It wasn’t a place you went to often nowadays, so the sight of the water glimmering thanks to the sun and the old Victorian houses lining up on the opposite caught you breathe for a minute. In your own reverence, you don’t notice James doing the same for just a second, though out of homesickness and something else.

“So if I ‘member correctly,” you start off while hesitantly stopping your bike, “We can eat lunch over there and maybe even go for a boat ride.”

“Yeah, sounds swell,” he states as you gets off your bike and begin to move it towards the small cabin-like being sitting at the edge of the lake with rows of peddle boats along the side.

You were sure that Echo Park wasn’t as huge as whatever James might have been thinking that it was, though it has some nice attractions here and there. You walked along the sidewalk, seeing people enjoy the day in the grass or doing something else in the shade. It was one of the places that you had fond memories of when your father was still alive and he had just a little extra money to spend on the family outing.

“Do you miss?” you can’t help but ask at the sudden thoughts of your family, as blue eyes fully taken in you once more, “Your family? New York?”

James pauses for a moment looking at the lake, thinking but unsure of what he should say.

“My dad used to take us here when he could,” you admit, throwing him a bone as you slowly open up to him just a little, “Got chased by a flock of ducks over there.”

James laughs at the sudden thought of a younger you running around and screaming and as you tell him more about the hair, you mix in some of your own personal history into the mix. You guys have the cheapest things on the menu when James --with blue eyes sparkling underneath the sun-- finally states.

“I fell on the ice rink once and Stevie well he…”

You end up laughing the whole way to the row boats as James keeps telling you stories about him and this Steve Rogers. James can’t help but keep watching you open up and share your own family stories with him and if you end up kissing him on the cheek in the middle of the lake -- well, that’s just the icing on the cake.

And if that became your fondest memory at Echo Park, well you hope that your family didn’t mind.  

#james buchanan barnes #Bucky Barnes #james bucky barnes x reader #james buchanan barnes x reader #james barnes #1940's bucky barnes #40's bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fan fic #series: modern times #fabiola trying to write

[orchestrators]

Homo Computatrum: Continued

He watched as one of his coworkers, Harry, he thought his name was, open the black cabinet. Inside was a series of small black cubes on every shelf. Each cube had a glowing LED light on the edge, each glowing a slightly different shade of green, some even seemed yellow. Each cube was magnetized to the shelf it was on, using the electromagnetic induction to stay awake. The cabinet was a safe place for them to stay warm and fed, at least that was how Declan saw it, and removing one from the shelves always caused their LED to flicker. It must be painful for them, Declan thought, to be taken out of your place of comfort and be forced to work for your survival. He was projecting now, not meaning to put his situation onto the experiences of the little cubes.

“How is it?” Declan asked.

“Specimen twenty-five is functioning normally. Showing signs of slight distress, but other than that it is working fine.” Harry said, without any inflection.

“Bring me a charging pad, that should help it calm down.”

“Yes, doctor.”

Declan slipped the small cube into the charging pad, where for a moment he noticed it’s LED turn a brief shade of orange. Yes, it’s warm there isn’t it, Declan thought. The personnel door behind him slid open, and subject seventeen was escorted into the lab by 3 soldiers. She was frail, and her skin was whiter than everyone else's, how long she must have been here he could not guess. Her hair was brown, or maybe it used to be, the blotches of grey that interrupted the woodland colors made it hard to tell. She wore the same outfit each subject wore, it was a white jumpsuit, no pockets, and holes at each point where Declan would need to work on her. Apart from everything that had seemed so typical about her, there was one thing that stood out. She was smiling. Smiling would probably be the last thing Declan would be doing in her situation, but she seemed happy. Perhaps she was mentally defective, he thought, but if she was then she wouldn't be here. What was that about, he wondered.

She sat on the operating table, and the soldiers took their place in the corner of the room. Not dropping the aim of their weapons for a moment. Declan rotated the operating table, which began to fold itself into a chair around subject seventeen's body. The magnetic clamps locked her ankles and wrists in place, while a large strap furled about her chest. Unlike previous hosts, her breathing was steady, and her eyes didn’t grow wide with panic at being locked into place. What a strange subject. Declan wheeled his chair around to face her and began his procedure.

“I am going to insert these IV tubes into your arm ports here, is that alright?” He asked.

“Ha, I’m sure I have no choice here, but thanks for asking. Go ahead.” She said with an ironic laugh.

“Uh, yes, uh. I guess you're right,” he mumbled. Declan dipped his head, what a foolish thing to ask, what was he thinking. The arm bot began inserting the IV needles for him, his neural link with the machine making it much easier for him not to have to touch subjects. If anything made him uncomfortable, it was physical contact with them, it just made things harder for him.

“Surgery audio log begin recording now,” he said loudly, “Subject seventeen is prepared and-”

“Sarah.” 

“Eh, excuse me?” Declan said, looking up at subject seventeen.

“My name, it’s Sarah, not subject seventeen. You never asked but yeah there you go, what's your name by the way?”

Declan paused a moment and looked over at the other doctors at their stations, one of them lifted his hands into a shrug. Another just raised his eyebrows. Nobody seemed prepared.

“Um, my name?” 

“Yes, I hardly want to know the names of the people behind the glass, what’s your name doctor?” She asked politely.

“M-Morrissey, I am doctor Morrissey. You can uh, call me Declan if you like.” He said in astonishment. Nobody had asked him his name in over a year, nobody had introduced themselves to him for even longer.

“You don't seem to be very good with people Declan. Sorry if I overstepped.” Sarah said.

“No, no, it's just that, well nobody, uh, there is never,” he paused, trying to figure out what to say, “there is never this much talking involved in the procedure. Usually, subjects have nothing to say.”

“Well, that sounds boring huh? I guess the other volunteers have little to no personality, haha.” She said, giddy for someone in her position. Volunteers? Declan thought.

“I guess so. So you do, if you don't mind me clarifying, you do understand the nature of this experiment? Don't you?” Declan asked, unsure if she was fully aware of her situation.

“Well yeah, we’re trying to merge a human with a semi-conscious AI in an attempt to make it fully aware, granting it life. The merging of human intelligence and AI being the main goal, thus creating a new species.”

“Yes, that is exactly right,” Declan said, still confused by her, “You're, your not, a prisoner are you?”

“No, I’m not, why? Are other people here prisoners?” She asked, looking around her.

In all his time underground, he had not met someone like her. Every subject he had worked on in the experiment was either on death row or someone who had become a prisoner of the foreign conflict who was secured by the military for this very experiment. She wasn’t one of those people. A volunteer? Declan thought again. Where did she even hear about it? And by what means did she volunteer to be part of it all. A message popped up in Declan's smart lenses, it was from the Colonel:

Doctor, do not waste time here today. Proceed with the operation.

Declan looked back and forth, from the message in the corner of his eye to the girl sitting in front of him. Despite her grey streaks, he noticed she was quite young, probably in her 30’s. He shook his head, trying to declutter his mind with all the questions that she had inspired in him. Declan pulled up her medical file in his smart lenses and continued with his audio log.

“Subject, uh, Sarah Kirby, prepped and ready for the procedure to begin. Anesthesiologist, Dr. Richard Berkham, preparing the Bupivacaine for local anesthetic now. Um, you will feel a slight pinch in your neck now, alright?” Declan asked, glancing back to Sarah’s eyes.

“Sounds good, ready when you are.”

“It will take around fifteen minutes for it to work, then we will begin.” He said, unsure of himself.

“Okay, this must be nerve-wracking for you guys huh? Not a single happy face in here. Like that guy over there by the cabinet? He must have like, constipation or something.” Sarah said with a giggle.

                  It was apparent that the cocktail of drugs being introduced to Sarah’s system were already taking effect, or maybe she was just a silly happy person normally. Declan hadn’t met a happy person in years, so it couldn’t be that. Some time had passed, and she had already made more than one person in the room laugh for the first time that Declan had known any of them. Her bright attitude seemed to be infectious, even making one of the soldiers loosen his grip on his firearm. Declan made himself busy with inserting the small cube into its casing, again imagining it to be more comfortable for it in there. Normally he would begin surgery immediately, but today he didn’t see any issue with doing to the other way around. They were going to be in this small lab for seven hours no matter what order he did things in. And so he began working, and Sarah continued to be chatty with him. Four hours had passed, and she still had so much to say.

“-and so I thought, yno O’Brien, maybe spending so much of your spare time on that Alimo model would have been better spent, I dunno, with Kaiko, Molly or Yoshi? No?”

“The wife's name was Yoshi?” Declan asked, bemused.

“No no, you're not listening at all are you? His wife's name was Kaiko, Yoshi was his kid.” Sarah said, her words sounding a little more slurred.

“Sorry, it’s just a complicated piece of tech I’m working on here, you know the interface that we have been using for the neurons in the brain stem to interact with the specimen wasn’t actually the best way to do it, this new model we came up with last month is the first of its kind. So I just have to take my time and focus on it.” Declan said, leaning in closer to the small cube.

“You must be very proud of the work you’re doing here then, to have such passion the way you do,” Sarah said in a warm tone.

“Passion?” Declan repeated, “I don’t think it’s a passion, Sarah. More so that this work is necessary, it has to be done, and not many people can do it.”

“Don’t be silly, if you didn’t love doing this you wouldn’t be so careful with the Ai in that cube. I saw you handle it the way you did, not many people treat technology like it’s alive.”

“Well, because this piece of technology is alive, in a way, I mean. It’s not fully conscious yet, so its intelligence is currently in its infancy.” He explained.

“So you mean it's just a baby?” Sarah asked.

“A, a what?” Declan paused, confused.

“A baby, you know like a child before it’s running around and playing, a tiny person?” 

“Oh, yes yes, of course, a baby um, well in a way eh, you could say that,” Declan said, stumbling over his words again.

Sarah didn’t seem to be any less chatty, even though the localized anesthetic made her neck and jaw numb. Any other patient remained deadly silent throughout, which Declan always thought was best anyway. He had finished linking all the synthetic neurons to the cube and closed the seal around the implant. It was ready for insertion, and it was time for him to begin operating. He rotated the chair around so he could see Sarah’s nape and began pulling her hair out of the way to begin shaving. Each action he took he had preceded by asking if it was okay for him to do it, even though he knew that Sarah had no choice in the matter. Now and again he would glance to the mirrors on the wall, knowing that behind the glass was Sylvester, staring at him disapprovingly. It didn’t phase him as much as he thought it would, after all, this was his patient and his work. His choices to do it the way he wanted were entirely up to him. 

The loud buzzing of the hair clippers always made him uncomfortable, but he knew the necessity of the device. He preferred waxing as the ideal form of hair removal, taking the hair out of its follicle entirely would naturally yield better results. But after all, this was only surgery, and he wasn’t a barber. He hesitated for a moment, noticing a small scar on the back of Sarah’s ear. A strange place to have gotten a cut or a burn, unless? He ran his left finger over the back of his ear and felt the small warm piece of ceramic behind his lobe. It was his communication’s link implant, the latest technology for those who could afford it, or those who needed it. Doctors, soldiers, politicians, scientists, all people of necessary status. Was she a billionaire? He thought. Another message came over his vision from the Colonel behind the glass:

Doctor, please continue.

It had been more than a few minutes that he had been staring at her neck and rubbing the back of his ear. He looked about the room, at every set of judgemental eyes resting on his inaction. Now wasn’t the time to be distracted he thought, so he began running the hair clippers over her neck, and she laughed.

“You have a ticklish touch don’t you Declan. Ha, I guess all doctors need that.” She laughed.

“I uh, I try to be delicate with anything, I guess it’s all part of the job. Now, I’m going to mark out the surgical incision sites, begin the implantation. Procedure log, take note, beginning incisions now.”

“Do your thing Declan, I’m hardly gonna stop you,” Sarah said.

Declan used the robot arm above his head to pick up the forceps and scalpel on the tray next to him, they were freshly removed from their sterile packaging and had a satisfying smell. Declan displayed a magnified version of Sarah’s nape on his smart lenses and began moving his hands in sync with the robotic arm, moving the sharp blade into position. But before he could make the first cut, his eyes landed on her scar again, and he longed to ask her why she had it. He rotated his view and saw the same scar mirrored on her other ear, hardly a coincidence. He delinked his right arm from the arm bot, and picked up a towel to wipe his neck, he was sweating again. Not ideal considering the room was quite temperate. He had never hesitated like this in a procedure before, so he exhaled slowly, closed his eyes, and relinked with his arm bot. It was time to get to work, so he made the first cut.

                 “So you mean to say that she just didn’t like otters?” Declan asked while peeling back another layer of tissue under Sarah’s skull.”

“Well kind of, it was more that she just saw them as a strange housepet, but I think they are ideal. They’re so loving, and they have thumbs for crying out loud, thumbs Declan.”

“I can think of one or two ways they can be devious with having thumbs. Kind of like raccoons, have you ever seen those videos of the little raccoons getting up to mischief?” Declan said, smiling.

“Ha, yeah, I miss those. You think with all the amazing tech you guys have in these places you could bring them back.” Sarah said in a wishful way.

“We can clone them, they just wouldn’t live very long you see,” Declan said.

“See this is where you guys down here need to get your priorities together, the world needs otters and raccoons back, not nano cybernetic humans. Ha”

“Well, remind me to get to work on gene resequencing after we’re done here,” Declan said jokingly.

“No problem, when are we actually going to be done here?” Sarah said, her voice dropping down from its usual bounce.

“We, had another hour remaining, I'll be using the skin cell regenerator to seal the wounds around your new implant, and then inserting your memory core.”

“Alright then. But, before you do, can I ask you something.”

“Belt away, what do you need to know?”

“Do you know what it's going to feel like? How it will work?” Sarah asked, “Will I still be the same person? Or will I be a new person? Will the AI in my mind be me? Or will I be the AI?”

“I, uh,” Declan stammered again, “I, I don't know. Sarah this will be the first time we try this particular way of doing it. We don’t know the exact effects of the merging of two minds yet.”

“But Declan, what about the others, how did it work out for them? Did they change at all?” Sarah asked. Declan looked about him, each person his eyes fell onto were staring at the ground, knowing the answer to the question she had asked. It was an answer he wasn’t ready to give.

“Oh,” Sarah said, “I see, you haven’t had a successful merging yet have you, that's why you’re using the new interface.” She sounded for the first time Solemn.

“Yes, you’re right,” Declan said, unwilling to say more.

“Well then, here's hoping this one works out huh?” She said, bringing back her giddiness, “Okay, but what if, and hear me out okay? What if we brought back goats? Have you ever seen a goat?”

Declan laughed, “Ha, I think I prefer otters.”

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