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yumeka36 · 3 years

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Analysis on the absence of Elsa and the Northuldra in post-Frozen 2 stories

If you've been following post-Frozen 2 storybooks and comics as closely as I have over the past year and a half, you've probably noticed that the majority of stories take place in Arendelle and focus on Anna partaking in adventures with Kristoff, Olaf, and Sven. While Elsa has appeared alongside them in a few stories, as well as a couple of her own stories taking place in the forest with Olaf and Bruni, the ratio of "Anna stories" vs "Elsa stories" is pretty one-sided. And, while new characters introduced in Frozen 2 like Mattias, Halima, Bruni, and Nokk, have had some appearances in post-F2 stories, the Northuldra have had zero…not even mentions or cameos. I’ve been pondering on this topic quite a bit and finally got around to writing all my thoughts. This is a long and thorough analysis so sit back, enjoy, and put your thinking cap on...

The lack of Elsa in post-F2 stories is puzzling since both Anna and Elsa are fairly even when it comes to post-F2 content in general; all the post-F2 merch I've seen has both of them in equal amounts, and pictures of Elsa are always all over the magazine covers and paper craft pages that the comics come from. So it's not like she's being excluded from post-F2 merch overall, she's just noticeably absent from most of the comics and storybooks. Again, this is puzzling because post-F2 marketing gives the impression of "Anna's doing her thing in Arendelle" and "Elsa's doing her thing in the forest," so an equal number of stories for each sister, as well as a few where they do things together, seems like the most logical way to go. Yet the ratio of post-F2 stories currently looks something like this:

Stories featuring Anna in Arendelle with other characters (no Elsa) - 56%

Book & Comic: Anna getting a gift for the queen of Chatho

Book & Comic: Anna getting an official portrait as queen

Book: Mattias getting accustomed to Arendelle again

Comic: Anna and Mattias visit Halima

Comic: Anna and Kristoff make a bicycle for Olaf

Comic: The gang helps Olaf find a new nose

Comic: The gang celebrates the spring festival

Comic: Olaf minds the kingdom when Anna is sick

Book: The origin of Olaf, Kristoff, and Sven's epilogue outfits (this one is technically not post-F2, but I'm counting it since it's so close to the end of the movie. Also it’s an upcoming book, so no link yet)

Book: Arendelle celebrates the cloudberry festival

(out of these, Mattias has featured in about 17%)

Stories featuring Elsa with Anna and the rest of Frohana - 27%

Book: Anna awaits Elsa's visit after their initial parting

Book: Explore the North (this isn't a storybook but a collection of isolated scenes during and after F2; since some scenes are post-F2, I'm counting it)

Comic: Elsa visits Arendelle for charades

Comic: Anna and co. visit Elsa in the forest to help Bruni

Comic: Elsa visits Arendelle for the snowman competition

Stories featuring Elsa in the forest with the spirits (and Olaf, no Anna) - 17%

Book: Bruni's Big Adventure

Book: Elsa, Sven, and the spirits help Olaf find a unicorn

Book: Elsa helps restore balance in the forest that resulted from the misguided actions of some travelers

(out of these, Yelena, Honeymaren, Ryder, and/or other Northuldra have featured in 0%)

*Major shoutout to @chileanon and @bigfrozenfan for translating many of these stories that aren’t available in English*

(my percentages are based on the number of post-F2 stories released thus far, to my knowledge, in the form of comics or books. Some stories have both a comic and book version, as well as two different book iterations with only slight differences. In these cases, I'm counting them as one. Since comics are released sporadically and only in a few European countries, my number may be slightly off if there were any not brought to my attention on social media. I'm very active with finding information about post-F2 content, so I feel my numbers are fairly accurate. And again, I'm only counting stories that take place post-F2, or at least within the timeframe of the epilogue, not stories that take place during or before)

(I'd also like to point out that Olaf is the only character who has appeared in every single post-F2 story so far. It makes sense since he's a very marketable character for the kids and simple to write for. Though this probably wasn't the intention, I'm seeing him as a connection symbol between Anna and Elsa as they go about their new roles).

So what is the deal with these ratios? As I said, both Anna and Elsa have been evenly highlighted throughout all of Frozen 2's marketing, and continue to be to this day (and Elsa is arguably the more financially successful of the two and Disney knows it), so why is Anna so much more prevalent when it comes to post-F2 stories? And why are the Northuldra so left out? Obviously they wouldn't feature in a lot of stories since they're not main (and marketable) characters, but if Mattias can appear in a story or two, why can't the Northuldra at least get a mention? If someone hadn't seen Frozen 2 and read these post-movie stories, they would think the only residents of the forest are Elsa, the spirits, and some animals. Is there a reason for this? These are the kinds of questions I will examine and attempt to answer in this post.

But before I get to the meat of this analysis, please take note of the following disclaimers (I apologize for the length of the disclaimers, but they're important things to keep in mind):

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Disclaimers

- All of this is my own speculation based on the facts made public; namely, the content of the post-movie stories themselves. Since I have no insight into the coordination, publishing process, or other planning/logistics behind the creation of these stories, theorizing is all I can do. I don't know to what extent executives at Disney dictate what authors can and can't write in these stories, whether the authors actually have a lot of creative freedom yet choose to write the stories this way, or whether these outcomes vary depending on factors like country and story format. So I'm purely going off the limited knowledge I have and what I feel is most logical.

- Continuing from my previous point, unless you have some insider knowledge about the inner workings of Disney Publishing Worldwide, Disney Press, or whatever branch of Disney creates these post-movie stories, exactly who is responsible for the way they are is unknown. I could be wrong of course, but I doubt that Head of WDAS Jen Lee has the need to personally green light 6-12 page comic stories that get printed in a foreign language magazine read by, like, 1% of Frozen's worldwide audience. Even though Jen Lee and Chris Buck created the story and characters of Frozen, the franchise is owned by Disney firstly, and it's very likely other people at Disney provide approval for things like this in lieu of the filmmakers. It’s doubtful that the Frozen 2 filmmakers had any input into the creation of these post-movie stories, or even know that they exist. While the Frozen 2 filmmaking team is responsible for how Frozen 2 ended, they ended it in a way for post-stories to easily expand on the Frozen-verse like how I previously described; some stories featuring Anna as queen and interacting with the people of Arendelle, some stories featuring Elsa in the forest interacting with the spirits and the Northuldra, and some stories with them doing things together. And technically this is exactly what post-F2 stories have been doing–we have stories featuring Anna as queen, stories with Elsa in the forest, and stories of them doing things together…it's just that the proportion of "Anna stories" vs "Elsa stories" is surprisingly off, plus the complete absence of the Northuldra. And again, whether it was someone's decision that the stories should be this way, or whether it's just a weird coincidence, is unclear. Is there a particular person or persons from Disney's publishing branches pushing for the stories to be the way they are? Or is it the individual authors' decision? Or some combination of both…or some other factor entirely? Yes, higher ups at Disney have to provide approval for every official piece of media that gets released for their IPs, but who is "Disney" in this case? A manager/supervisor at Disney Press? Is it the same person who approves every new story or just some? Is it just one person who approves or is there some long chain of approval? And if so, how far up does it go...all the way up to someone who actually worked on Frozen 2, or does it stop before then? Does it vary by country? Does it vary whether the story is in comic or book format? There are a lot of unknowns in terms of how these stories come about, so please be mindful of that fact before assigning blame to any one person or group of people.

- And lastly, again, I'm only focusing on post-F2 stories–stories that take place after the events of Frozen 2. I know that comics and books have come out after Frozen 2's release that take place during or before the events of the movie, such as a comic about Ryder helping Kristoff with the proposal and a book showing Frohana having a family game night prior to the movie. For this analysis, I'm only focusing on how the characters and franchise are presented post-movie, in brand new ways not yet explored in the actual canon of the movie. I'm more interested in seeing how these stories are shaping the franchise going forward in anticipation of new official canon content whenever it comes.

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So with all this in mind, let's keep analyzing…

Lack of Elsa

First I'm going to examine the main reasons I have for why we don't see Elsa as often in post-F2 stories:

Arendelle stories are easy and familiar: Personally, I think this is the most likely reason, especially for the comics. The comics are made as part of magazines released in a few European countries. They're simply extra selling points for the magazines, which contain other items that appeal to kids, like arts & crafts activities, and Elsa is always all over those even if she's not part of the comic. I would also venture to guess that the authors and artists who create the comics don't have a ton of time, or incentive, to weave together interesting stories. After years of releasing Frozen 1-based comics that almost always involve adventures in Arendelle, I'd imagine it's very easy for current Frozen comic writers to simply follow that formula, since it worked in the past and is easy and familiar. Sure, they could include Elsa in more of those stories, but if you look at it from the perspective of a comic writer with deadlines, if I could get away with writing an acceptable story without including an extra character to draw/write for, I would do that as much as I could. If Elsa is still in, like, 80% of the magazine, I think little kids would still be enticed to buy them even if she's absent from the comic stories. Obviously with Frozen 1, all the characters lived in Arendelle, so it wouldn't make sense to have a lot of stories without Elsa (though there were some). But now that Elsa is living elsewhere, her absence in these stories isn't as questionable, especially when she's still part of the magazine in general. While this logic applies more to the magazine comics than storybooks, I would still argue that the storybooks are also niche and are simply made to bring in a little extra revenue to small markets rather than a serious attempt to expand the canon.

So then the question becomes, why not show more stories of Elsa in the forest with the spirits and/or Northuldra? Those stories could be simple too, like a story about Elsa and the spirits helping Honeymaren find a lost baby reindeer or something like that. The reason for this could again boil down to Arendelle simply being an easier and more familiar setting to work with. If excluding Elsa from the comics has no affect on magazine sales, since she's already present in the rest of the magazine, why not just stick with a formula that works and takes less effort to write? Even if coming up with simple stories for Elsa in the forest isn't too difficult, Arendelle is a more recognizable and "glamorous" setting, especially for the magazine's target audience of little girls. Another key point is that Elsa's exact role in the forest was left much more open to interpretation at the end of the movie than Anna's role as queen. Being the queen of a kingdom is something easily identifiable, and again, easier to write for. Why risk depicting Elsa's activities in the forest in a way that could conflict with Disney's expectations (assuming someone with clout at Disney green lights these stories) when you can just stick with safe adventures in Arendelle?

Disconnect between stories and canon: This is more of a general statement about fandom interpretation of the comics and storybooks as serious depictions of post-movie canon: it's best to keep in mind that these stories are, again, simply made to bring in a little extra revenue for the franchise, as most of Frozen's earning are either from box office sales or toys/dolls and other merch. Most of the books and comics aren't made with a large, worldwide market in mind, so I'd hesitate to think that a lot of effort is put into creating stories that are true depictions of post-canon content that would perfectly align with a potential Frozen 3 or other future official releases. Many of the post-Frozen 1 stories released in books and comics contradict each other in minor ways, as well as the actual canon movies and shorts as well. This is unfortunately what happens when you have a franchise like Frozen that's owed by a company (Disney) and not an individual director, author, etc. Unlike, say, Harry Potter or Naruto, where the work is owned firstly by the original author who has say into practically every new media piece that's created for their franchise, lots of different people at Disney contribute to various pieces of Frozen media and bring their own interpretations into it…interpretations that could end up not aligning with each other or future canon content from the filmmakers. A few different authors write the post-F2 storybooks, and still different authors write the comics, and I doubt they collaborate to make sure everything in their respective mediums match up exactly, nor do they check in with the Frozen 2 filmmakers to make sure every story released is a clear representation of whatever vision the filmmakers have for not-yet-conceived post-F2 content. This might not be the case for a bigger production, like the Frozen novels such as Dangerous Secrets, and shorts like Olaf's Frozen Adventure, but it is for these little kiddy books and comics that a very small portion of the market even knows about. Even if someone at Disney has to approve them, as I mentioned in the disclaimer, we have no idea if it's the same person always approving, different people depending on country/format, or if there's some chain of people who provide approval. This spreading out of the Frozen-verse across different media formats and Disney branches unfortunately spells frustration for fans who are constantly trying to build one, coherent view of the franchise's world through the alignment of the comics, books, shorts, and movies. This is unavoidably the nature of the kind of franchise Frozen is–something that's owned by a multi-faceted behemoth like Disney rather than a single author, so there's going to be a disconnect between its media formats that are conceived by a variety of different minds at the company. In the end, everyone is free to decide what they do and don't consider canon, but don't be surprised when the image the storybook writing team has for Frozen ends up being different than what the filmmakers create years later.

The pandemic: While I don’t think the covid pandemic is the sole reason here, it could be a possible contributor. Manufacturing was compromised across various industries in 2020, and magazine/book publishing could have been one of them. Maybe Disney did have plans to create more post-F2 books in early 2020, but had to change those plans (among many other things) when the pandemic hit. Some possible evidence for this is that, for some of the storybooks at least, the European translations are based on the English versions, which means the English versions came first, and yet the English versions weren’t released until several months later, most not even in hardcover form. This could indicate a slowdown in this branch at Disney in the US, or at least a portion of it. The US did get some hardcover Frozen 2 books in 2020, like Explore the North, Bruni’s Big Adventure, and the Frozen 2 manga, but not as many as Europe, which is strange if these books started off in English first. Again, without any insight into the industry, I can only theorize, but I do believe the pandemic should at least be considered.

Disney restrictions for future canon: This is an optimistic reason, but one that I think is important to mention. A possible reason that Elsa is noticeably absent from post-F2 stories, but not F2 marketing in general, could be because Disney has future plans for exactly what her role as the fifth spirit is and they don't want to risk anything that portrays that role in a contradictory way. They might not know exactly what that role is yet, but they'd rather not risk retconning anything that's shown in official content, like the comics and storybooks. Since Elsa's role was left open to interpretation at the end of the movie, focusing too much on what she's doing everyday could inadvertently reveal things about her role that could be portrayed as expanding the canon, something that these stories aren't allowed to do. So perhaps the authors are told to downplay Elsa's activities in the forest as much as possible, so often they'd rather just exclude her altogether to make things easier. Of course, this is complete speculation, but I'd like to hope it's true if it means Disney has future plans for Frozen!

On that note, the only story released thus far that has a direct depiction of what Elsa does in the forest is Tales of Courage & Kindness, a digital book that was recently released as part of Disney's Ultimate Princess Celebration campaign. I feel like this book is slightly closer to canon than the other books and comics because it was promoted on various official Disney social media outlets (and was released in English, while many of the books and comics aren't). It depicts Elsa's role (one role she has at least) of helping the spirits protect the forest from outside influences that could throw off its balance. Again, this book is still pretty niche and we don't know if there was any collaboration between the filmmakers and the author of this story, so this depiction of Elsa's role could be downplayed in favor of something else in future canon content. But what I found most puzzling about it is that this book, which seemed to be written for slightly older children than most of the post-F2 storybooks, had a perfect opportunity to feature the Northuldra, since it takes place exclusively in the forest. And yet, there wasn't even a mention of them at all. Which leads to the next portion of this analysis…

Lack of Northuldra

Even though Elsa doesn't appear in as many post-movie storybooks and comics as Anna (for possible reasons I just discussed), she still features in some of them. The Northuldra, however, have not appeared in any post-F2 stories, even the few that take place in the forest. This is strange since the epilogue of Frozen 2 very clearly shows Elsa with the Northuldra at their camp, as well as with the spirits. But as far as post-movie stories, the most we've gotten is one line from Elsa in one of the comics (English version from the official UK magazine):

(thanks to Snow on Discord for sharing this with me)

We can assume the "anyone" she's referring to are the Northuldra who live in the forest (unless she's referring to the animals of the forest, lol. Also, why the heck are they calling Bruni an "it"? This is a prime example of what I mentioned before about the disconnect between the various branches at Disney. In the Bruni's Big Adventure book and other official content, Bruni is referred to as "he/him")

As a matter of fact, Olaf, who lives with Anna and the others in Arendelle, is more prevalent in the forest stories than the Northuldra! I feel like he's been added to these stories to give Elsa someone to talk to, since Bruni and the other spirits don't talk. But why not have her talk to Honeymaren, Ryder, or Yelena? I know all the kids love Olaf, but you'd think they could get away with having one story where Elsa interacts with the Northuldra, just like Anna has a couple of stories where most of her interactions were with Mattias. And like Elsa, the Northuldra aren't excluded from post-F2 overall as they're still seen occasionally in other merch. They're just not in any stories that are set post-F2. This exclusion of the Northuldra is very bizarre, so let's see what we can analyze for why it's like this…

The Northuldra aren't marketable characters: This would be a likely reason if it weren't for the fact that Mattias, who is also arguably not a marketable character, has appeared in a few post-F2 stories. In fact, many minor Arendellian characters often appear in the comics and storybooks…Halima has gotten more attention in these stories than the actual movie! So I think it's more than that, which leads to my next point…

The spirits are more marketable: This is probably why stories that feature Elsa in the forest aren't focused on the Northuldra. Again, assuming the stories in the books and comics are created just to bring in a little extra money and not as serious depictions of canon content in collaboration with the filmmakers, it makes a lot of sense to keep the focus on what sells the best. We know that (in terms of merch at least) Bruni and Nokk were the most popular new characters from Frozen 2, so why not have stories with Elsa in the forest focused on them? This doesn't contradict the ending of Frozen 2 after all. However, this doesn't explain why there's literally no mention of the Northuldra. Even if the stories focus on the spirits, they can at least show the Northuldra in the background or mention them here and there. Which then leads to my next point…

Few stories in the forest, so few chances: In conjunction with my previous two points, I think this is the main reason for the lack of Northuldra in post-F2 stories…there just hasn't been enough opportunities. First off, most post-F2 stories take place in Arendelle, so no reason for the Northuldra to be seen there (unless they wanted to depict Arendelle and Northuldra mingling with each other, but that concept is probably beyond the scope of the kiddy books and comics!) And as of now, there have only been four post-F2 stories that take place in the forest…

-Bruni's Big Adventure: this one gets a free pass because it's aimed at very little kids and literally just shows Bruni and Olaf goofing off, with Elsa making brief appearances at the beginning and end. The more descriptive European version does mention about Elsa living in the forest with the spirits and no mention of the Northuldra. But again, this book seems aimed at an even younger audience than the others, so I wouldn’t be surprised if the author needed to keep things very simple and only mention what’s important for the story at hand.

-A Day With Bruni comic: this one could have definitely shown some Northuldra in the background, or even mentioned them in Elsa's dialogue. I guess the idea was for the group to meet Elsa in a secluded area, since the story was about helping Bruni get his fire going again, which could be dangerous at a camp site. I still don't know why they weren't at least acknowledged in Elsa's dialogue, but that could have just been a conservative choice by the comic writer.

-A Unicorn for Olaf: while this book could have shown the Northuldra, since it features Elsa, Olaf, Sven, and the spirits travelling all around the forest, I kind of see why they didn't; the theme was that each spirit Olaf encountered helped him get closer to finding the unicorn–it's a simple and easy narrative for a little kid to follow, no need to complicate it by including extra characters (I know it's hard sometimes, but we have to keep the target audience for these stories in mind...it’s much more narrow than the movies!)

-Elsa's story in Tales of Courage & Kindness: out of all these stories, this was definitely the one where the Northuldra should have at least been acknowledged. The story features the forest getting disturbed/thrown off balance, so you would think Elsa would mention the Northuldra, the people living there, perhaps to ask if they know what's happening or if anything was wrong. Really strange that this wasn't the case…only reason I could think of is, again, insistence on simplifying Elsa's role in the forest as much as possible, which includes downplaying anything going on in the forest besides just her and the spirits. Maybe the book author wanted to include mention of the Northuldra, but then was told to edit that part out for simplicity's sake. In Anna's equivalent story in this book, Mattias is absent, which I found strange too. Maybe the author was instructed to keep things simple and not include extra characters if it's not necessary for the story (again, the target audience for this story is the general audience of little kids, not hardcore adult Frozen fanatics). But still more possible reasons for the Northuldra's exclusion from this story, and perhaps the others, could be as follows…

Disney restrictions on depictions of indigenous people: I'm not sure how valid this reason is, but we do know that the filmmaking team consulted with the Sami people about how the Northuldra were depicted in Frozen 2. So when it comes to depicting them in anything post-F2, perhaps Disney's being super sensitive. Maybe the image they want to avoid is "we got your approval to depict the Northuldra in Frozen 2, but as far as anything after that, we can do whatever we want." It wouldn't pay to consult with the Sami on all these little niche storybooks and comics, so why go through that hassle when it's very easy to just exclude the Northuldra from them? There are some flaws with this idea though, like where does Dangerous Secrets fit into this (it's not post-F2, but it's still content featuring the Northuldra in ways not shown in the movie). Then there's the fact that Disney doesn't have this restriction with their other movies that feature indigenous cultures, like Moana for example. But the argument there could be that Moana is a main character, so they literally couldn't have any post-movie stories if they had this restriction, so maybe different coordinating/negotiations took place in that case compared to Frozen 2.

The Northuldra are nomadic: This is a reasonable argument for why Elsa seems to often be alone with the spirits in the forest. But I feel like the movie tried to convey that the Northuldra live in the forest. They might travel around the forest to forage for food and set up camp at different locations, but they don't stray too far. In the movie's prologue, Agnarr does say that the forest was "home" to the Northuldra, and I don’t recall Dangerous Secrets giving any indication that they leave the forest for extended periods of time. But this is something that could definitely be addressed in future canon, I just don’t think there's enough evidence for it as of now.

Coincidence/author's choice: This applies not just to the absence of the Northuldra, but lack of Elsa in the post-movie stories as well…it could all just be a coincidence. Maybe the authors of these stories have freedom in terms of how they portray Elsa and whether or not they include the Northuldra, yet they simply are choosing not to. Their reasons for doing so could be what I've already discussed–stories in Arendelle are easier and more familiar, so why not stick with that when there's no consequences for it? And likewise, why continually include Elsa, an extra character to draw and write dialogue for, in the Arendelle stories when there's no need to anymore? Maybe tomorrow a new story will be announced that features Elsa in the forest interacting with the Northuldra and what I've said here becomes way less relevant? But I feel like it's not a total coincidence…like, maybe some countries are more restrictive than others, or some Disney branches are more restrictive, like the comics vs the storybooks. It's hard to say, but some of this could be coincidence for sure.

Conclusion

To summarize, there could be several reasons for why Elsa and the Northuldra aren't as prevalent in post-F2 stories, or it could just be a weird coincidence. I'm of the opinion that the authors of these stories keep the focus on adventures in Arendelle out of convenience and familiarity, since the books and comics are made just to bring in a little extra revenue from small markets. Elsa is still all over other Frozen 2 merch like dolls and toys, and that's where the bulk of the franchise's sales come from. The authors could be restricted by Disney in some way with how they depict Elsa's role in the forest, or whether or not they can include the Northuldra, so they often opt to just not have them in the stories, or just stick to the more marketable characters like Olaf and Bruni. Without any inside information about how Disney's publishing branch makes these stories, we can only speculate. But what I do know is that viewing these stories as an accurate image of what all future content for the franchise will be like is very premature. It's only been a year and a half since Frozen 2 (and only seven months since new animated content with Once Upon a Snowman). Even though that seems like a long time for fans, it's an extremely short time in terms of how long Disney takes to create new content for their animated films. Just look at how many years it took to announce new series’ for Princess and the Frog, Zootopia, and Moana? Monsters Inc. just got a new series ten years after its last movie, and Lion King, one of Disney's biggest hits, didn't get a series (The Lion Guard) until nearly twenty years after its sequel movie. Even if Disney seemingly abandons a franchise, they often come back to it in time, especially one as popular as Frozen. Unlike a franchise such as Star Wars that has a whole studio just for it, Frozen has to share resources with other Disney movies, which is why new content for their animated movies is spread out across so many years. And if we do get a Frozen 3 or a series on Disney+ however many years from now, there's a good chance it could portray the current status quo differently from these storybooks and comics, just like how the post-F1 stories feature a different status quo than now. Whether another change like this is good or bad has yet to be decided, but until it happens, I'd like to imagine it's something like this page from the Explore the North book (one of my favorite post-F2 images)

We see Anna and Elsa having fun together while Arendellains, Northuldra, and the spirits are learning to get along again...and honestly, nothing in these post-F2 stories I’ve discussed contradicts this scenario. Even if we don’t see the Northuldra in the stories that take place in the forest, that doesn’t mean they’re not there. Even if there’s fewer stories featuring Anna and Elsa together, that’s no indication of how often they get together in canon. As I discussed, there could be a number of reasons for why the post-F2 stories are as simplified and one-sided as they are...they’re only meant to extend the ending of the movie in minor ways, so that if Frozen 3 or other official canon content is released down the line, nothing will have to be seriously retconned. As I mentioned, a lot of hands at Disney touch these stories without paying mind to the fact that the filmmakers could conceive something different in the future, which is why I don’t take the post-F2 books and comics too seriously. I simply enjoy them for what they do offer and don’t get hung up about what they don’t offer.

#frozen #frozen 2 #frozen2 #disney frozen #frozen analysis #frozen comic #frozen books

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oldguardhc · 4 years

Text

Old Guard hc #56

Prompt number: 17 - “Give me a minute or an hour”

Fandom: The Old Guard

Rating: PG-13

Warnings/Tags: joe x nicky, fluff

AN: @flamingbluepanda encouraged me to write a Psych AU for this prompt

Joe cranes his neck to get a better look at the body. The puncture wounds are interesting, each one spaced at least four inches apart, all at differing angles, both in entrance and position meaning whatever killed this man wasn’t just a random attack. If they were closer, Joe would have thought they were bite marks and maybe they are, but the last time he checked, there were no animals in the ocean or on land with a bite-radius that large and teeth spaced that far apart. At least, there’s nothing alive today that has a 34-inch bite-radius.

“You getting something, Mr. Kaysani?” Chief Freeman asks.

Can it be? The bite marks are looking to be more of a match the longer he stares at them. “I’m…getting something,” Joe says, snatching the yellow pad and a pen from Andy and ignoring the small huff of irritation she lets out.

He starts with a brief outline, it’s been a while since he’s drawn one of these and he has to use small strokes to get the head right.

“Wait, I think this is a boating accident,” Andy says, and Joe briefly looks up to see her point at the body. “Head trauma from…from falling off the boat. Hit a motor maybe?”

The eyes are tricky. Should they be looking straight or at the viewer? Joe decides the viewer for a more startling effect.

“The wounds on his back, they were caused by a…by an industrial crab trap. Yes, a crab trap. Or a whale. A lonely whale that got lost from its pod and traveled East, West. Saw our floating guy from below, thought it was a seal and…you know, had a little chomp.”

The teeth are definitely not his best work. The teeth to mouth ratio are way off and they’re definitely not as uniform in real life like he drew them. It’ll have to do for now. He adds a little shading to the drawing, giving it a more realistic appearance.

“A whale?” Booker slowly asks, when it seems like Andy is finally done with her explanation.

“What’s your guy got?” Nicky immediately shoots back, coming to his partner’s defense.

Joe can practically hear Booker’s smug look, “Watch and learn, Genova. Watch and learn.”

“Alright Kaysani, show me what you got,” Chief Freeman says.

Joe blows on paper and holds the pad to his chest, hiding his drawing from a peaking Andy. “First of all, I would like to say that this is not my best work. It’s a very rough sketch, the shading isn’t finished, the torso is a little plump and the teeth are…they’re not completely accurate. If I had more time, I would’ve definitely given them more shape, more individual characteristics. If I had my druthers, I'd have done this in charcoal.” Booker gives him an understanding nod and Joe would high-five him if he was standing right next to him, “You know what I’m talking about! Almost nothing beats a good charcoal drawing-“

“Mr. Kaysani!” Chief Freeman interrupts, crossing her arms and tapping her feet. “The verdict?”

Joe dips his head in apology, “Yes! Look, the key was in the puncture wounds,” Joe says, using his pen to point at said wounds. “They’re very unique puncture wounds. So unique in fact, that I was able to draw a semi-accurate profile of our attacker.” Chief Freeman gives him the look that says ‘Well? Get on with it’ and Joe turns the pad around and smirks at Andy.

Both Andy and Chief Freeman do a double-take and lean forward to get a better look. He resists the urge to flinch. It’s really not his best work and it shows. After a second of intense scrutiny, Chief Freeman shakes her head with a slight scoff and stalks off.

“Chief? Where are you going?” Joe calls out, still holding his drawing up. The culprit is right here! Well, not here here but here on paper. She’s halfway up the beach already and doesn’t even turn around to acknowledge he spoke. Great.

“Nice work, Kaysani,” Andy says, snatching her pen and pad back, a pleased look on her face, and runs to catch up to the Chief.

“A dinosaur?” Booker asks, mouth downturned, fingers working the buttons in his sleeves to roll them back down to a more professional length. No, we were supposed to get fish tacos after this. “Jesus, Joe. You couldn’t have shot for something in the last million years?”

Joe places his hands on his friend’s chest and steps in his way, “Give me a minute, or an hour to prove it was a Tyrannosaurus rex.” Booker shakes his head, the disappointed look doing funny things to Joe’s stomach, pats Joe on the shoulder, and steps around him to leave.

Great, just great. Even his best friend didn’t believe him. Joe rubs his temples, he can feel a faint throb and he hopes that it’s just a regular throb and not a foreshadow for a migraine.

“I thought the drawing was pretty good.”

Joe drops his hand and turns around. Nicky has that faint smile on his lips that Joe’s still trying to figure out if it means he likes Joe or likes likes Joe. He’s already made it obvious on multiple occasions how he feels about Nicky.

With Nicky’s looking at him like that, it’s so easy to smile. “Thanks!” And because no one else is here to witness his humiliation, he makes his smile a little more flirty. “You know, I can always use a live model.”

Nicky cocks an eyebrow at him, the faint smile still there, maybe even a little wider if Joe’s not delusional. “I’m going to go calm Andy.”

“Don’t die, I’d hate to miss your pretty face.” A light blush creeps up Nicky’s neck as he nods and jogs back up the beach.

Joe doesn’t stare at Nicky’s ass. He doesn’t, because that would be rude and Nicky is more than a beautiful body.

It’s a good thing the only witness is a dead body.

Joe turns back to the dead body. “Definitely not a boating accident.”

—

Joe slumps against the growing mound of dirt. He’s exhausted. He feels like he completed an Iron Man and climbed Mount Everest twenty times. Who knew being shot at could be so draining? To make matters worse, the throb from this morning was a foreshadow. His eyeballs are going to explode any second now with how strong his head is pounding. He digs his knuckle into the valley between his eyes until it hurts, it’s a different hurt than the one going on behind his eyes though, that it feels strangely good.

Joe sighs, at least one good thing happened today; he was right about the body. It’s a real shame he doesn’t have ‘Use a 20-year-old Tyrannosaurus rex model built by a 9-year-old Booker to solve a murder case’ on his bingo card. He would’ve been the only one to mark it down.

A bottle of water is placed on his lap and Joe opens his eyes, a ‘thanks, Booker’ on his tongue. Except, it’s not Booker standing above him, it’s Nicky.

Joe musters up the best smile he can despite feeling like death has crawled its way inside him through his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Your head’s been hurting all day,” Nicky says, crouching down, a small frown on his face. He pulls two packets out of his pocket and holds them out to Joe. One’s red and the other’s green. “I didn’t know if it was a regular headache or a migraine, so, I got both.”

Joe stares at the two packets. Nicky bought him medicine. Nicky saw that he was hurting and brought him something to feel better. Joe swallows the lump in his throat, reaches out for the red packet. “Thank you,” Joe says, brushing his fingers with Nicky’s.

The corners of Nicky’s lips tick upwards, “No problem.”

Joe tears the packet open and dumps both pills in his hands before tossing them into his mouth. Nicky has the bottle of water open and held out for him and Joe takes it with a grateful nod. Even though he swallows the pills on the first gulp, he finishes the whole bottle. Only when he’s done, does he remember that Booker might want some too.

“I gave him a bottle too,” Nicky says and that’s a sign, right? That has to be a sign of how amazing they would be together. “The pharmacist said those pills should work in 15 minutes.” Joe nods, he’s intimately familiar with the wonders of Excedrin. He would’ve taken one around lunch if they hadn’t been following another lead at the time.

“Thank you,” Joe repeats, closing his eyes again even though he wants nothing more than to stare into Nicky’s gorgeous blue eyes. He hears and then feels Nicky settle beside him, no doubt getting his suit all dirty, and he’s doing that for Joe.

“Is there anything else I can do?”

Joe shakes his head, “You’ve helped a lot already. We just have to wait now.” Joe resumes his earlier ministrations, digging into that spot that hurt but was a better hurt than the one inside.

Cold fingers slide over his own, “Don’t press too hard, you’ll hurt yourself,” Nicky chides.

Joe grabs Nicky’s wrist and guides those cold fingers until they’re covering his eyes. Relief instantly hits and Joe presses those cold fingers harder against his eyes.

“Should’ve gotten an ice pack,” Nicky mutters to himself.

“S’fine, your hands are working.”

They sit in silence as they wait for the pills to kick in. Every few minutes, Nicky switches hands and Joe doesn’t even have to hold his wrist anymore. He knows how hard to press and it’s nice. It’s really nice. He can almost ignore Booker digging in the background and the occasional splash of dirt that rains down on both of them.

“Never thought my poor circulation would come in handy,” Nicky jokes when the migraine finally subsides.

Joe grins and reaches out to press a kiss to both palms. “They were lovely.”

“Please tell me I’m not going to have to listen to you two flirt the entire night,” Booker calls out from the hole. “I don’t want you two ruining my discovery.”

Excuse me?

“Your discovery?” Joe asks, crawling over the mound to look down at Booker. He’s made an impressive amount of progress. Probably only six more feet before they hit the skull.

Booker stabs the shovel into the dirt, both of his hands coming up to rest on his waist. “I’m digging, so yes, my discovery.”

Joe makes an outraged sound, “I found the right hole!”

“It wasn’t a hole! I’m making it a hole!” To prove his point, Booker picks up the shovel and tosses the next scoop at Joe.

Joe should’ve seen that one coming.

“Alright, I’m going to go home. Have fun digging, boys,” Nicky says and when Joe turns around, he’s brushing dirt off himself. “I’ll see you later?”

Joe nods his head probably a little too enthusiastically, “Definitely. Thank you again for the pills. I’d still be dying if you hadn’t have come back.”

Nicky smiles, the small one, and one day Joe’s going to see if he can get him to grin ear-to-ear, lips stretched so wide his cheeks will hurt. But not today. Today, he’s going to make history by being the first Psychic Paleontologist.

Nicky dips his head again and yeah, Joe hates to see him go but he sure as hell loves to watch him leave.

That ass is definitely better than a charcoal drawing.

A new spray of dirt rains down on him and that’s it.

It’s a shame no one is there to hear Booker’s loud yelp as Joe tackles him to the floor. Oh well, it’ll live rent-free in Joe’s mind forever.

#joe x nicky #the old guard #booker #nile freeman #fictober20 #andromache the scythian #hc

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elsanna-shenanigans · 3 years

Text

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

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shutupandshipit · 3 years

Text

Sharpen Your Blades - Ch.10

Summary: “What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

The thinning of Aizawa’s patience was evident in the twitching of his brow. “If you stop asking questions, maybe I could finish explaining.

”With a huff and roll of his eyes, Katsuki glanced away from their coach.

“City Hall and the SC want us to give them more variety. We are a team solely made up of single skaters. Every year, we dominate the rankings for single skate while Shinketsu dominates the pairs, so this year both cities are being required to split their skaters evenly between singles and pairs with at least one pair coming from out top five.” There was a collective intake of breath, but no one commented, choosing instead to remain silent. “Unfortunately, for us, it’s a lot easier to switch from pairs to singles. With our male to female ratio, alpha/beta/omega ratio, and those of you actually experienced with pair skating, we’re at a disadvantage. So, I’ve decided to choose your partners for you.”

…..

Or where Katsuki and Izuku are forced to be partners so they can continue to compete, but the blood in the water may be thicker than anyone realized.

Pairing: Bakudeku

Rating: T

Chapter: 10/20

Previously <- Chapter 9: Refills

Chapter 11: Solo -> Next

Chapter 10: Alpha Wanted

Katsuki skidded to a stop, chest heaving as he leaned against the wall. Ever since he’d broken off his partnership with Izuku, he’d been pushing himself to the very edge of his abilities and sometimes further. When no one was around, when he was completely alone on the ice, he would sometimes go until he was forcing himself not to puke as his body heaved. Sometimes he did puke, and he would spend thirty minutes cleaning up the mess before trudging home.

He knew he wasn’t taking the end of their partnership well, but that didn’t mean he was going to stop running himself into the ground.

Lifting his head, his eyes met Izuku’s across the ice.

Izuku was huddled in the middle of the bleachers, his new partner seated at his side and the rest of the alphas on the team that were in their age group surrounding him. They chattered on and on, looking to Izuku for approval, but even when he just smiled nervously at them, they continued on as if he’d given an actual answer.

Anger seethed in Katsuki's chest. He hated it, hated seeing him surrounded by alphas all grinning and preening like a flock of ugly peacocks. Hated the uncomfortable smile that Izuku always wore nowadays. Hated glancing over to check on him and already finding Izuku’s eyes on him.

Most of all, he hated the way the other alphas had treated Izuku like he was a prize to be won as soon as they were no longer a pair anymore. Hated the way they treated him like he was suddenly fair game.

Katsuki shouldn’t have been surprised. He’d known they’d just been waiting for the right moment, waiting for him to fuck up, waiting for him to let Izuku just the barest inch out of his reach. As soon as they’d presented, Izuku had become coveted among the alphas. The rare male omega. Somehow, it made him ten times more desirable to the others on the team. As if his secondary gender erased everything they’d never liked about him.

When Katsuki had been his partner, the others hadn’t dared to make the attempt to court him. They’d rightly assumed that he’d had fully intended to court Izuku, but he’d been planning on beginning their courtship once they were at least in high school. Just his presence and scent on Izuku had marked him as off limits, and that had been enough to begin with.

Katsuki scowled, watching Izuku’s cheeks grow red and his green eyes drop, and then as he startled back away from a touch to his knee. Stubbornly, he turned and ignored the quick glance back up at him. He wasn’t Izuku’s partner, wasn’t going to be his mate, wasn’t anything to him anymore.

…..

Katsuki groaned out his frustration, dragging his hands down his face as Izuku hit the ice for the tenth time that night. Even during team practice, Izuku hadn’t been able to land a single jump. The concentration on his face was severe, but something was clearly taking up all of the space in that curly head of his. “What the fuck is going on, Deku? You haven’t flubbed this many jumps since we were fucking five. What gives?” Katsuki asked, gliding over to Izuku and jerking him back to his feet.

Izuku’s jaw worked back and forth, brow furrowed and eyes downcast. “I’ve just… got something on my mind. I don’t want to talk about it.” His tone was low and dark, and he pushed away towards the wall as he rubbed at his backside. Sliding on his guards, he stepped off the ice.

If Katsuki hadn’t been so taken aback by the warning note in Izuku’s voice, it wouldn’t have taken him so long to realize his partner was pulling off his skates. “What are you doing? We’ve still got another hour before the janitors kick us out. We’re not done yet.”

Izuku didn’t lift his head as he pulled his shower bag from his duffle, something he only ever brought when he had somewhere else to be after practice. The tops of his ears were blush red and his voice was soft and cautious when he glanced up to say, “I, uh, have to get ready…”

“For?” Katsuki prompted irately.

“A date.”

Katsuki’s heart stuttered to a stop in his chest. His alpha whined pitifully, and he just barely managed to keep the sound in. “Whatever,” he muttered instead, grabbing his phone and headphones from the wall before pushing back out to center ice. He stood there pretending to scroll through his music until he heard the double doors slam closed.

Turning back to the benches, Katsuki slipped on his guards and headed for his bag. Inside, he’d nestled the softest faux fur lined blanket that one of his student’s mothers had gifted him. ‘You young alphas never think of nesting materials for that special someone in your life,’ she’d told him as she’d pushed it into his arms. She’d been right, of course, but only because Katsuki had thought it was too early to be thinking about nesting. Nesting materials implied Katsuki wanted to share Izuku’s heat with him, and while that was certainly the case, he didn’t want to push too hard. Izuku didn’t even know that Katsuki was trying to court him yet.

Still, he’d been grateful and even considered offering the gift face to face, but now…

‘Gift to omega. Maybe… Maybe…’ Even his alpha was at a loss with the situation. Still, they both came to the same agreement. ‘Give omega gift. Cannot hurt. Alpha is only one courting omega. Give gift. Maybe make things better.’

Lifting the tissue paper covered blanket from his bag, he nestled it beneath all of Izuku’s other things and just hoped the omega would be tot out of it to notice it right away.

He sat down heavily on the bench between their bags, and stripped off his skates. Once he’d cleaned them, and given Izuku’s the same treatment, he shouldered his bag and left.

…..

“Deku?” Uraraka’s voice was sleepy and confused when she answered his call.

Pulling his phone away from his ear, he checked the time. 23:48 stared accusingly up at him, and he took a page from Katsuki’s book to quietly curse under his breath. “I’m sorry, Chako, I didn’t realize how late it was. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Even to his own ears, his voice didn’t sound right, and he could hear when the red flag shot up for her as she started to rustle around on the other end.

She yawned. “No, no, it’s fine. I wasn’t really sleeping at all. What’s up?” she lied, all chipper brightness. After a moment, she added, “How was the date?”

He didn’t answer right away, and when he did, it sounded like a flat lie. His voice broke as he said, “It was fine.”

“Deku?”

The tears were on his cheeks in an instant, cutting hot tracks across his cold skin.

The date hadn’t been fine. Well, from an outside perspective, he was sure it appeared as if things had gone swimmingly. The alpha had been perfectly civil and attentive, asking him questions about himself and more in depth questions about the topics he was interested in. He asked all the right questions too and some funny ones that made Izuku snort. What was he looking for in an alpha? How quickly was he expecting the relationship to progress? Did he want pups one day? Did he prefer cats or dogs or ferrets? What were his goals in life? What was his favorite flavor of ice cream? What was his favorite flower? Did he expect them to share their cycles together right away? If he had pups one day, what did he want to name them?

At first, he’d enjoyed his time with the man. Enjoyed looking at him. Enjoyed listening to him. Enjoyed, for the most part, scenting him on the air. Everything had been going just fine, but with each question Izuku had answered, the sick twist of betrayal had grown in his belly. With each question he answered that made the alpha’s scent sour with either disappointment or irritation, Izuku had felt the uneasy anxious energy nestled right beside his omega squirm restlessly.

There had been a moment when he realized he had no longer been answering as honestly as before, when he was tailoring his answers to specifically please the alpha. There had been a desperation in his body that told him he needed to secure this alpha for his heat. If he didn’t, then his next heat would be the most agonizing he’d ever had. That terrified him, but also made him angry.

Then the man had said, “I’ll be honest here, if this ever progressed to the point that we had pups, I would want you to stop competing so we could focus on our family. You seem to really enjoy skating-” He didn’t just ‘enjoy’ figure skating, he loved it. It was his life blood. If that was taken from him… “-but once you had a pup, that would all change. I just know it. And you wouldn’t want to risk getting hurt again. Your hips and legs need to be strong to carry, you know.”

That had solidified his resolve to end things before they even got started. No amount of fear was worth giving up the thing he loved most.

Izuku had smiled pleasantly even as that oh so familiar black tar had filled his chest and drowned his omega. “I appreciate your honesty.” Standing, he’d held out a hand even as confusion and anger began to morph that alpha’s handsome face. Even as his instincts told him to do something to make that look go away. Even as his omega urged him to fix things before it was too late.

Despite that, relief had flooded his body. Clutching his gloves in his hand, he hadn’t been able to stop from thinking of the alpha who’d taken so much care to get the size perfect and wishing he knew who they were. Wishing they were Katsuki. Then his omega had reminded him of the nesting blanket he’d found at the bottom of his bag, and knew that the date had been the worst idea his friends could have come up with.

“So, I’ll be honest as well. This isn’t going to work out. I accepted our offer because I need an alpha to spend my next heat with. This is what my friends and doctors suggested, but I’ll never be able to give you what you want if that’s me being a stay at home omega.”

The alpha had stared at his hand. The anger smoothed away as he glanced down to the hand holding the gloves. “I think there’s something else too. You don’t have to take a roundabout way to say you have someone else in mind.” After a long moment, he’d stood and shaken Izuku’s hand. “They’re a lucky alpha, whoever they are. Thanks for the conversation. It was nice. Friends?”

On the way home, he’d closed the accounts Uraraka and the other omegas had set up for him and deleted the dating and heat aid apps they’d downloaded to his device.

He relayed the whole story to Uraraka in gruesome detail, but he wasn’t sure how much was understandable through his sobbing.

Several hiccuping sobs later, Uraraka sighed. “Take a shower, Deku. I’m going to get some things, and then I’m coming over. No arguments. See you in thirty, okay?” Her voice was gentle, soft, and Izuku caved.

Hanging up, he focused on her suggestion and thanked the world she was his best friend. He was far more thankful for her suggestion when he caught the scent of the alpha still on his close, cedar and cinnamon. Not a bad scent by any means, but he still ripped his clothes off and stuffed them at the bottom of the washing machine.

He couldn’t tell if the scent had stuck to his skin or hair, but he hated the mere thought. He scrubbed until his scalp tingled and his skin was pink. The water ran cold over his head. When he got out, he dressed in his baggiest comfort clothes. An oversized sweater that had mistakenly been left in his locker at the rink several years prior and his high school gym sweats. Both had holes along seams and fraying cuffs, but they were warm and large. When he wore them, he felt loved and safe.

Pulling the nesting blanket from his bed where he’d spread it out to air out, he huddled beneath it on the couch with his face pressed into a corner of the cushions.

Uraraka’s arrival was signaled by the turning of her spare key in the lock. Still, he didn’t move, and only knew she’d seen him when she sighed heavily. For several long minutes, she shuffled around the kitchen. Drawers were opened and closed. Glasses clacked against each other. Silverware tinkled against the counter tops. All sounds found their way to the coffee table eventually, and then the couch by Izuku’s head dipped with her weight.

“This is a really nice nesting blanket. Where did you get it?” she asked quietly, fingers curling in the few locks of hair that stuck out from beneath the edge of the blanket.

Izuku allowed his head to be lifted into her lap, and pressed forward into the soft yet firm warmth of her stomach. “Was left in my bag. Don’t know who it's from.”

Uraraka stayed quiet, pushing back the blanket to run her fingers through his hair. Eventually, she said, “It smells like Bakugou.”

He stiffened. “Don’t.”

Her hand paused. “Don’t what?”

Izuku pulled away from her, huddling against the opposite side of the couch. “Don’t say stuff like that,” he whispered tiredly and leaned his cheek against the arm of the couch, “You know how I feel about him. Don’t give me false hope like that. It’s not worth the heartache at the end of it all.”

“I don’t know how false it is.” Turning to face him completely, Izuku could see just how fierce her expression was out of the corner of his eye. “This is the second thing that’s turned up in your bag smelling like him. He’s given you three things before this, that headband, his gloves and his hat. Is it really that far out of the realm of possibility?”

“Yes, Chako, it is!” Izuku snapped, voice wobbly with tears, “Kaccahn would never want someone as useless as me. Someone who dragged us down and then got hurt. He deserved better than me. I’m just lucky he’s willing to skate with me again.”

Uraraka’s face twisted as if there were more she wanted to say. In the end, she just asked, “Isn’t he the reason the date didn’t go well?” Izuku’s eyes flickered to her, and he was crying all over again. “Oh sweetie, come here.” She opened her arms, and he crawled into them, allowing himself to be held tight.

#my hero academia #mha #bakudeku #dekubaku #decchan #bakugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #a/b/o dynamics #omegaverse #alpha!katsuki #omega!izuku #figure skater au #no quirks au #my writing #sharpen your blades

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sundowncryptid · 4 years

Text

My HTTYD 3 Criticisms

This is gonna be a long one so I’m gonna put my criticisms under a read more

Just wanted to make a post listing all of the HTTYD 3 criticisms I have (this isn’t an attack on people who liked the movie, it’s totally valid if you did, I just want to list some stuff that I didn’t like and stuff that, in my opinion, didn’t work in the movie)

- The Light Fury logically shouldn’t have been able to cloak in the first scene when she’s caged up, she would have needed to fly through a plasma blast and there’s no way she did that whilst caged??

- Snotlout hitting on Valka was just really weird and uncomfortable

- There’s no way Grimmel killed all of the Night Furies, he’s just one man with a bunch of Deathgrippers and a crossbow

- The Deathgrippers are portrayed as an ‘evil’ species of dragon, but the dragons are said to be just wild animals?? How can a wild animal be ‘evil’ and have evil intentions if they’re just wild animals? It’s not their fault that their diet consists of other dragons

- The Deathgrippers are also being controlled, drugged and held captive by Grimmel too, just like the Light Fury, but they don’t also deserve to be rescued too??

- If the Light Fury is so scared of humans why did she decide to pick Hiccup up and yeet him?? Surely she would have tried to avoid being seen and especially being touched by them after being caged and drugged by dragon hunters?? If Toothless had looked like he was in danger I could understand her trying to intervene and get rid of Hiccup but she intentionally came towards him unprovoked

- The Light Fury tried to kill Hiccup twice and Toothless didn’t growl once?? (I know she’s scared and I don’t blame her for lashing out at humans after being drugged and caged but I would’ve expected a stronger reaction from Toothless) But in the third date scene the Light Fury steps on a line in his drawing and that’s when he chooses to growl at her

- it feels like all of the other villains in the movie were just dumbed down to make Grimmel look smart

- Grimmel’s Night Fury info contradicts what the franchise has said or shown about Night Furies previously:

1. He said that Night Furies can’t fly for long periods without rest, yet Toothless has one of the biggest wing surface area to body ratios in the franchise and his wings are soaring wings like an eagles, and so he should be able to fly for maybe 4-6 hours straight without rest

2. He said Night Furies can’t survive cold temperatures but Toothless has been living in Berk for 6 years without an issue, and Berk is supposed to be freezing for most of the year according to Hiccup

- New Berk is only accessible by dragon, so how does New Berk trade with other villages? And sail out to catch fish for food? After all of the dragons are gone??

- Night Furies having the ability to cloak is pointless, they’re nocturnal and camouflaged when flying at night so they don’t need to be able to cloak. Idk maybe it could be a leftover adaption that they retained??

- Hiccup is portrayed as ‘naive’ for thinking that Toothless will come back to him

Toothless and Hiccup don’t have a parent-kid relationship. That would suggest that Toothless wants to get away from Hiccup and be more independent, yet he never showed an interest in flying without Hiccup until the Light Fury came along, and that was only because she wouldn’t let Hiccup get near her. If Toothless never showed signs wanting to leave Hiccup or fly on his own in the past then why is Hiccup naive for thinking that he’ll come back?

- Just a small thing but I would’ve liked to see Valka discovering the Hidden World with Hiccup, it would’ve been a nice to see them bonding over the discovery and it could’ve shown how far their mother-son relationship has come in a year

- The Mushroom Forest in the Hidden World must produce spores, and long exposure to mushroom spores causes lung inflammation so surely the dragons living in the Hidden World wouldn’t be able to breathe properly and would get sick from breathing in spores??

- The Light Furies don’t seem to fit with the Hidden World’s bright, saturated colours, their white, pale scales would stand out against the colourful vegetation growing there

- What if a group of Deathgrippers infiltrated the Hidden World? Wouldn’t the Hidden World dragons be trapped and cornered inside?

- Toothless didn’t consider his flock at all when he disappeared with the Light Fury for a day, shouldn’t he have been with them to help protect them just in case, especially since Grimmel just burned down their previous home and may still be tracking them?

- How can Toothless be the king of the hidden world, a place he only discovered hours ago, and command it? Wouldn’t the dragons there already have an alpha dragon??

- It would’ve been nice to have a moment in the Hidden World where Toothless seems homesick and misses Hiccup, just to know he at least still cares about him and hasn’t forgotten

- When the Light Fury comes back to New Berk and smells Grimmel she flies towards him instead of the opposite way??

- Toothless sacrifices his entire flock (including hatchlings) and lets them be caged up by the dragon hunters to save a girl he only met 3 days ago (not saying he shouldn’t care about the Light Fury but he should probably care a lot more about the well-being of the flock he’s been in charge of and has known for a year)

- The Light Fury is somehow aware enough in her drugged state to be able to fly straight with Grimmel on her back in the final chase scene (same point applies to the Deathgrippers throughout the entire movie now that I think about it)

- The Deathgrippers that were still attached to Grimmel’s airship as it crashed into the water weren’t at least attempted to be rescued and were left to drown

- The Deathgrippers shouldn’t have been able to catch up to two of the fastest dragons species in the franchise in the final chase scene

- Coming to the conclusion of the dragons leaving felt rushed and out of the blue

- The message at the end of this film totally contradicts the other two films; the first movie was based around the fact that dragons aren’t the wild, savage beasts that they are thought to be, but beings capable of human-like intelligence and emotion. HTTYD 3 contradicts this by saying the dragons are just wild animals and they can’t help following and listening to instinct.

HTTYD 2’s end message was even though there are bad people out there, we will still fight for what’s right, even if we have to go up against armies and armadas, we will change the world bit by bit so that people and dragons can live together in peace.

HTTYD 3 scraps that message and instead of fighting for the dragons and changing the world for the better, the dragons are just sent away to hide in a hole in the ocean indefinitely and are just left to hope that someone picks up where Berk left off. They beat the warlords pretty easily, Grimmel is gone and the Light Fury has started coming around to Hiccup so why do the dragons have to go all of a sudden?? New Berk isn’t accessible by bad guys (unless they have control of a dragon) and Berk has an entire flock of dragons on their side controlled by a Night Fury so their island is easily defendable.

They are in one of the best positions to continue rescuing, saving and protecting dragons yet that’s when they choose to give up?? Hiccup didn’t even give up in HTTYD 2 when his dad was killed by Drago but he beats a bunch of warlords and an apparently famed Night Fury hunter and that’s when he gives up?? It doesn’t make sense to me

- Toothless was able to smell the Light Fury from miles away in the exodus scene but wasn’t able to smell Hiccup from the rock he was lying on in that decade time skip and almost attacked him and his family, even though in the first film when Toothless was an actual wild dragon he knew Hiccup wasn’t a threat if he wasn’t holding a weapon

- Kinda bummed that Toothless’ appearance didn’t change between the ages of 21 and 31 in that decade time skip, I expected more nubs (the Light Fury too)

- The Homecoming short just proves that if people and dragons aren’t united anymore things just kind of almost go back to the way they were in HTTYD 1 (making the whole 6 years of human-dragon companionship just kind of pointless), the new generations of Berk will never grow up with dragons alongside them and see with their own eyes that they are more than just wild beasts (and apparently they weren’t being taught about dragons either until they put on the show about them according to the short), and dragons will never grow up alongside humans to see that some are good and want to help them, not trap and kill them.

- How is someone in the future supposed to pick up where Berk left off fighting for the dragons and uniting them when the Hidden World is so hostile towards humans?? No human is able to enter without getting swarmed by dragons

If you made it all the way to the bottom thanks for reading :] and again, I’m not trying to attack anyone who liked the movie, I’m just listing the things I, personally, didn’t like about it and the things that I thought didn’t work.

#httyd 3 criticism #httyd 3 salt #httyd 3 #long post #damn this took so long to compile #duskishrambles

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kafka-ish · 4 years

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sleep-over | b.d.

it’s been years since bill denbrough’s been to an actual sleepover. but when someone invites him over for the night, he can’t seem to pass up the opportunity to join them.

word count: 3,313

warnings/included: fluff, fem!reader

request: (from anonymous) “hiii could i please request a bill denbrough fic? you can decide what it’s about but just lots of fluff and something really cute”

a/n: repost bc my tumblr tags didn’t work on the last one and i didn’t realize until now,, also based off of this song

“Do you...do you want to come over?” y/n asked. Those were the first words to spill from her mouth when she dialed Bill’s phone at twelve-o-one a.m. She didn’t have to look out her window to know it was late because of the darkness that engulfed her room, but she also knew she had Bill wrapped around her finger and he’d do anything for her if she asked.

“Luh-like a ss-sleepover?” Bill’s shoulder was pressing his phone to his ear as he paced back and forth in his room. He looked out his window to see nothing. Just a dark abyss that beckoned for him, the same way y/n did from over the phone.

“Yeah. Like a sleepover.” y/n thought back to the multiple sleepovers she and he had before when they were younger.

When dusk ate the day and it got too late, Bill would stay the night at the y/l/n’s house. Her mother would have y/n’s brother keep an eye on the two of them because god knows what would happen if the two were left alone (even at an early age).

“Loser has to fit five marshmallows in their mouth,” y/n declared as she was setting up Candyland. She already had dibs on the purple gingerbread man so Bill supposed he’d just have to play as yellow.

“Oh-oh-okay.” A wide smile formed on a young Bill Denbrough’s mouth and his chest moved in sync with the guffaws he was trying to contain. “B-b-but I don’t think your...your mouth is that big.”

y/n’s grin matched his and Bill had gotten cocky that night because he had found y/n’s gingerbread man crossing the rainbow finish line before his and he could only hold three of the Jumbo Jet-Puffs in his mouth.

“I’ll b-be ri-right over.” Bill had unintentionally slammed the receiver back on the dial pad. He had never been so fast to pack up in his entire life, but he also didn’t take much; just a fresh pair of boxers, a change of basketball shorts, a t-shirt similar to the one he was wearing, and his toothbrush. It had been forever ago since he and a friend like Stan or Mike spent the night at each other’s houses. It had been a lifetime ago since he spent the night at y/n’s house.

He walked—no—ran out the door, almost forgetting his shoes in the process (which he slipped on without socks). His duffle bag was light on his arm and threatened to slip off more than once if Bill hadn’t been careful. He made it to y/n’s house in record’s time, but he also lived four blocks away.

Bill waited outside of y/n’s door. His fingers fought with each other and he noticed that the green porch light was still on.

“What are you doing?” y/n called down from above. She could freely yell into the earth’s crisp air because the neighborhood was asleep, and she didn’t have to worry about her brother who was sleeping in one of the dorms Duke University provided.

“I didn’t know if I should knock or not,” Bill answered honestly. He knew y/n was rolling her eyes at his response whether he could see her face clearly or not. He could hear her loud footsteps—rushed and enthusiastic—from inside the house as she trampled down the stairs to let him in.

“Hi!” She looked up at him wide-eyed and bushy-tailed because Bill stood tall and lean while y/n was like a dainty sprig—fragile and still waiting for spring to bloom—at least compared to him.

A smile couldn’t help but draw itself on Bill’s face when she greeted him. She was dressed in a white tank top and cotton sleep shorts and it was in that moment when Bill realized how much she’d grown. How much they’d all grown.

“Are you ready?” y/n eyed him curiously because it’d been seconds since she said anything and Bill had yet to reply.

“Ye-yeah,” Bill said. He stepped in. “Where?” Gulp. “Where should I puh-puh-put this?” He held up the seemingly empty duffle and y/n took it from him only to toss it aside next to the potted plant that greeted guests as they walked in.

“We can come back for it later. Now come on.” She was dragging him back outside. “I need an adventure!” She locked the door behind them with her golden house key she had turned into a necklace by feeding a length of black lace through the middle hole. She wore that thing everywhere she went.

“Ad-adventure?” One of Bill’s untrimmed eyebrows raised and y/n nodded as soon as the word left his mouth. “I th-th-hought this was a s-sl-sleepover.”

y/n giggled. Her small hand only covered a third of his as she grabbed it and led him from her front lawn and across the street. “Who actually sleeps at a sleepover?”

That was true. As he recalled, the last time he ‘slept over’ at Richie Tozier’s house, neither of them had actually closed their eyes.

Bill hadn’t noticed he was now in front and y/n stood a few paces behind him until he felt the warmth of her hand leave his. She was taking the time to light the cigarette she had balanced between her bottom and top lip. Bill chuckled softly at the sight behind him. She was a sight for sore eyes.

He stepped back to meet her figure whose nimble fingers were concentrating on flicking the purple BIC at hand.

“Nuh-need help?” Bill took the lighter from her and it came to life with one swift move of his thumb.

“Yo-you know s-s-s-smoking is... Once you start, you cuh-can’t s-s-s-top.” Bill said this as if her were a father, telling his child about the dangers of drug usage. But he still lit the stick that was poking from y/n’s pouting lips.

She took a drag from the cigarette. It was long and she coughed afterward because she hated the taste. Bill could tell she wasn’t an experienced smoker and that this had probably been her second pack. “I’m already addicted,” she said. The cigarette muffled her words. But it wasn’t the nicotine she was addicted to. She was addicted to fitting in.

Bill shook his head which he’d inadvertently thrown back while he was consumed in laughter. “You guh-guh-got an-hother one?” He asked and y/n reached in the elastic of her waistband to grab a pack of Mavericks (a gift from Bev). The box was full except for one and she had also stashed a twenty-dollar bill in the gaping space between the tobacco sticks.

“I didn’t take you for a smoker,” y/n said while tossing him a smoke.

“Fuh-first time for eh-everything.” Bill shrugged and lit the end like a natural. It wasn’t his first time, he just said that to make y/n feel better.

The two walked in comfortable silence. y/n was still trailing behind, but only to admire Bill’s frame under the white moonlight—not to enjoy her barely smoked cigarette because maybe she wanted pink lungs until she was old and wrinkled and had to have be waited on hand and foot at the nursing home.

It took them ten minutes to arrive at a worn-down gas station and it would’ve taken them five if y/n wasn’t lollygagging or if Bill didn’t stop to point at the stars every three seconds.

“Lo-ook at that one!” He’d say with the innocence of a child. His sneakers would make a scraping sound against the abandoned road when he came to a halt and y/n would bump into his shoulder because she never looked where she was going.

“It kind of looks like the mole on the back of your-“ Bill nudged her, causing her to wobble and drop the Maverick. It was one with nature now. Good riddance.

Bill put out his own half-smoked cigarette in the ashtray that sat on top of the garbage can next to the glass doors of the QwikTrip.

It was bright inside. Too bright. The empty gas station felt completely different from when they were slumming it in the outside and dancing to the sound of crickets chirping.

But y/n didn’t notice. She was too busy in her own world, mixing together a cherry and coke flavored slushie to make cherry coke. She watched in childlike wonder at the contents inside the slushie machine that whirled ‘round and ‘round so the ice could mix thoroughly with the syrup (a slushie with an imperfect ice-to-syrup ratio was not a slushie; it was just flavored ice). She didn’t notice the guy working the cash register who was obviously checking her out.

But Bill did.

An odd feeling struck at his heart which was now beating faster as he watched the greasy boy about their age eye his childhood friend.

“H-have you ever dr-dr-“ Bill paused. “Had alcohol?” Bill wondered aloud. y/n had just finished preparing Bill’s slushie for him—plain banana—so her attention could now focus on just him. Internally, Bill was banging his head against the wall for asking such a stupid question. But that’s what y/n made him in recent developments: stupid.

Every teenager drinks he thought to himself. But y/n wasn’t like every teenager.

“No.” y/n shook her head and Bill found his eyes roaming to the liquor case in the back of the store.

They both knew what each other meant and Bill just about dashed to the fridge the same way he dashed out his door when y/n called him that night.

y/n was waiting for him at the paying counter. She took small sips at her cherry coke slushie but luckily Bill didn’t take too long. He came back, holding a clear bottle of liquid that y/n didn’t know the name of. He set the glass on the counter and reached in his pocket only for his heart to fall twelve meters into its grave because he left his wallet at home.

“Don’t worry about it,” y/n reassured. Her hand settled on his momentarily. “I’ll get it. Just wait outside.”

So he did. But waiting outside nearly killed him.

“These please.” y/n gave the stranger her biggest smile, teeth and all, as she pushed the bottle of gin and two slushie cups across the counter for him to scan.

“Was that your boyfriend?” The cashier asked. His face could be mistaken for a pepperoni pizza and his blonde hair was uncombed. The graveyard shift really does some things to people.

“No...” y/n blushed and the stranger thought it was because she found him attractive. It was actually the idea that other people thought of Bill and her as a couple that caused y/n’s cheeks to tint. y/n looked up at the boy through her long lashes and it should be counted as a crime to not know the effect you have on the people around you.

A sly smile reached all the way to the boy’s eyes. “You know what? It’s on me.” He printed out her receipt. There were just three items marked as $0.00. The only numbers that added up to something were the ones on the bottom which he said was his phone number. “Call me.” He winked.

Bill felt like he was being stabbed all from watching the two flirt and before another invisible knife could make another incision in his already delicate heart, y/n was out the door. Two diabetes-filled cups occupied both hands while a plastic bag hung from her arm.

“Hi!” She said this in the same way she greeted him.

Bill covered his mouth when he coughed before sputtering out a hi.

She sat down on the curb outside of the gas station, her legs crossed like a pretzel. She sat both cups down, taking a sip from both straws. Her tropical-flavored chapstick tainted his red straw and Bill would taste pineapple mixed with banana later when he took a sip.

y/n’s mouth tingled at the taste of banana slushie. Who the hell gets a banana slushie? She supposed she’d never get used to the taste, but it was worth a try.

Bill took a seat on the rough pavement next to her. He knew his ass would hurt once he got up, especially if they would sit like this for a while, but he didn’t care.

“D-d-do you want… muh-muh-maybe wuh-want to g-g-go somewhere no… nobody will see?” Bill asked tentatively.

y/n smiled with the plastic still between her teeth. It was a more pleasant feeling than rolled-up tobacco. “Who would even see us here?”

Bill laughed but he thought back to how the cashier was eyeing her while she fixed her slushie. It wasn’t the same way he’d look at her. It was slimy and gross. But that was behind them now as he slipped an arm around her and held her close.

His shirt was old and worn, but it felt soft and homey against the skin of her cheek. She nuzzled close into his chest, feeling his ribcage and smelling the Old Spice that lingered from when he applied it earlier in the afternoon.

She hadn’t been this close since their last sleepover.

They were thirteen and y/n had originally invited him over to watch High Society on the new television set her parents bought and finally got around to setting up in the den. She promised she wouldn’t get jealous if he stared at Grace Kelly because he’d tell her the same about Gregory Peck. But Bill didn’t get the chance to stare because the ribbon was detached from the VHS, ruining their whole plans.

Bill wouldn’t have stared anyway—not when there was someone worth staring at who sat on the couch next to him.

“I’m so sorry.” It must’ve been the tenth time she apologized but Bill only waved his hand like how he wished he could wave the rest of her worries away. “I didn’t know it was all screwy... It’s been years since I’ve actually put the damn thing in.”

“Don-don’t-t worry ab-b-bout it,” Bill said. He glanced up at the clock on the mantle. It was getting late and the beginning of a sunset could now be seen from outside the living room window.

“You should be getting home.” y/n was looking at the clock with him. Bill shook his head.

“Ih-it’s ff-fine.” He shoved a handful of popcorn that y/n popped herself in his mouth. “Do-do you h-h-have an eh-eh-extra toothbrush? O-o-or I cuh-cuh-could leave early.”

y/n knew what he was referring to and a smile graced her already angelic lips. She was getting excited just at the thought of having a companion by her side during the witching hour. y/n jumped to her feet and skipped over to Bill on her bare feet. “What will you sleep in?... I could offer you my nightgown!” She laughed at the image in her head which projected a picture of a scrawny Bill Denbrough wearing one of y/n’s frilly nightdresses even she didn’t wear anymore.

“I cuh-cuh-can ju-just sleep in th-th-this.” He shrugged and y/n could only think that boys were strange.

By the time both of them had brushed their teeth, Bill was already tuckered out. Maybe it was from watching y/n mess with the VHS player for so long. Or maybe it was from running over to y/n’s house when she had excitedly announced her parents set up a new television set and she wanted him to be the first one over to experience it and his legs were still tired from carrying him.

“Do you want to watch a different movie? I’d hate to invite you over just to not do anything.” y/n picked at her fingernails, too afraid to meet Bill’s eye because she was scared he hated her.

Bill could never hate her.

“Nah.” Bill spread out on her double bed that she had made prior. He sunk into the plush covers and felt himself doze off until y/n hit him with a pillow.

“What do you think you’re doing?” She was hovering over him, scared that she’d fall and break her neck if she lost balance.

“Sl-sleeping.” Bill closed his eyes once more. “I’m kuh-kuh-kinda t-t-tired.”

“Move over.” y/n wasn’t tired, but she’d do whatever Bill wanted. She laid down next to him and there couldn’t possibly be enough room on the bed for both of them—at least with the way Bill was spread out.

She snuggled close to him, able to smell the toothpaste he used and the natural smell of vanilla that clung to his skin.

But right now, Bill didn’t want the night to end as they sat three years older and in an empty parking lot. If BIll had one wish, he’d wish this night would last forever. Just him and her and the space surrounding them.

y/n’s eyelids felt heavy and her legs felt gelatin-like. She fell into a dreamlike trance while Bill’s arm acted as a blanket around her, but she didn’t want the night to end like this.

“Ar-are you t-t-tired?” Bill asked. y/n could feel his arm remove itself from her and she visibly shivered.

“No,” she lied but he knew better than that.

“I’ll wuh-wuh-walk you h-home.”

Their trek back to y/n’s house was slower than it was when they left it. y/n didn’t mind. She basked in the presence of Bill’s calming aura and Bill felt the same. Both of them, however, were too afraid to tell each other that.

y/n could barely keep herself stood upright on her own. Bill had to stabilize her with his left hand. His right hand was gently figuring out a way to remove the key necklace that hung from her neck.

“That tickles!” y/n giggled loudly when the icy tips of his fingers brushed her sensitive skin.

“Shh,” Bill whisper shouted. “Th-there are puh-puh-people sleeping.” He looked at the time on his digital watch. Not for long, anyway.

“Shh,” y/n echoed back to him.

The front door creaked open. Bill cringed and hoped it wouldn’t wake her parents, but y/n told him it shouldn’t matter because they were heavy sleepers. He trusted her.

When both of them stepped in, y/n was the one to shut the door just like she had when they left. Afterward, they tip-toed up the stairs. Bill clutched his duffle bag and y/n still had the plastic one which contained the alcohol.

“Fuck...” y/n giggled at the curse word that left her lips. “Marry, or kill.”

“What’re m-my options?” Bill slurred. He was too scared to look up at her, so he looked at the dark ceiling. He was sprawled out on her bed—taking up most of the room—like he did when they were thirteen.

“Me, Beverly, and...” y/n sighed. She forgot the name of the girl who sat in front of her in math class. “Henrietta Simons.”

“Huh-who’s Henrietta?” Bill asked, but he already knew his answer.

“Someone you should kill.” y/n shrugged and stared at the ceiling with him, trying to find out what was so interesting about it.

“Kuh-kill Henrietta,” Bill said, and a proud smile found its way on y/n’s lips. “Fuck-ck Bev, an-” He didn’t really have to finish after that.

“You wouldn’t have sex with me?” y/n asked. She was only teasing but Bill knew she wouldn't have said that if she was sober.

“It-it’s not luh-luh-like th-that.” Bill took a deep breath and he didn’t know if this was the night he wanted to be saying all of this but that’s what everything felt like it was leading up to. “I guh-guess I ju-just want t-to marry you.” Bill closed his eyes at the drunken words that thought would be okay to leave his mouth.

“I wanna marry you too,” y/n said through a series of hiccups and a fit of laughter.

They both knew what was coming next. And even though neither of them didn’t want the night to end, it had to.

#it 2017 #it 2019 #it chapter 1 #it chapter 2 #it x reader #it imagine #it fanfic #it fic #losers x reader #losers club x reader #bill denbrough #bill denbrough x reader #bill denbrough x reader fluff #bill denbrough imagine #bill denbrough fanfic #bill denbrough fanfiction #bill denbrough fluff #bill denbrough fic

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youarejesting · 4 years

Text

Quarantine.7

[Masterlist] Pairing: BTS x reader Friends2Lovers But as slow as you can go until the anticipation kills us all… Genres: friendship, drama, romance SLOWEST OF BURNS BUT IT WILL BE BURNING AN ETERNAL FLAME!!! Rating: PG-13 and above Summary: Your brother works with a few BigHit dance teams and whilst having permission to accompany him at work the city shuts down banning anyone from stepping outside for a whole WEEK while they disinfect the streets. If you step outside you might get arrested, shot or poisoned by the chemicals they are emitting through the city. Words: 2.7k Announcement: Sorry that I posted this late the reason why is I had this complete at 8:30pm but my google doc decided to take my edited version and my unedited version and layer them on top of each other so naturally, I wanted to knock myself out with a hammer. After a long shower, I painstakingly worked on it as even the google docs history hadn’t saved the edited version.

[Part 1] [Part 6] [Part 8] [Tag Yourself Here]

You had a major major breakdown. Why did it hurt so bad? Was it the disappointment on Hoseok's face? You crawled out of your makeshift tub and wrapped yourself in a towel. Slipping on clean underwear and a hoodie you trudged back into your little home if you will. Eyes which were swollen and red from your tears becoming heavy. The door to the storage room opened, there in the doorway stood Taehyung “Annyong,” his deep tone filled the room as you watched his tiny gestures. He had wrapped himself in his blanket and hugged his pillow.

“What is it,” You were finding it hard to be blunt with him as he was so gentle and innocent. He was a fully matured young man, he had his moments of perversion or pranks but overall he didn’t have a malicious bone in his body.

“Can I sleep beside you?” Nodding too exhausted and sad to say no. He shut the door and waddled over, laying down beside you and making himself comfortable. After a few minutes of fluffing his pillow and removing your blanket and laying his bigger blanket over you both. Despite the extra room his blanket gave, he pulled you close wrapping his arms around you. You fit perfectly in his arms, letting out an audible whine as your breasts felt so soft behind your hoodie. He tried to think about other things like his favourite painter’s while singing under his breath anything to distract from your presence. The plain vanilla scent that emanated from your skin had him pressing his nose to your neck.

Every time you started to fall asleep he would moan your name and hug you tighter. Only settling when you wrapped him in your arms. His face up close was so inhuman, his sharp jaw and angular nose, the ratios between his eyes nose and lips were perfect, the symmetry everything. It was too good to be true. His personality was so gentlemanly as well it was like he just stepped out of a romance novel. Not the fifty shades kind where they have a haunting and mysterious backstory no this was the kind that is always there and the female lead doesn’t notice how good he is until the end and everything has a happy end.

Except this wasn’t the case, there was no love story here. People as perfect and gentle as Taehyung, they end up with; kind, generous and drop-dead gorgeous people. Even you wanted that for him. When you finally managed to fall asleep you were trapped in some romcom nightmare. Where your hunky neighbour and best friend Taehyung was trying to get you to fall in love with him. You had given in towards the end when he had saved your life in the dream. Taehyung lent in to kiss you, however, an inch away he pulled back and it was actually Hoseok. He looked at you in disgust and hurt. “I guess we weren’t friends after all”

Ripped from your dream with a jolt you accidentally startled Taehyung. It was useless to try to get out of his grip, you were supposed to be forgetting about them. You weren’t supposed to be worrying about Taehyung’s need for skinship and you definitely weren’t supposed to be hung up on Hoseok who was all you could think about. Him repeating those words ‘I guess we weren’t friends after all’.

“I missed you, why have you been hiding from us?” Taehyung hummed, finally addressing the subject of your disappearance the days prior. His hands slid up under your hoodie and his soft fingertips drew soft circles on your back. You don’t know if Taehyung knew the things he did were very romantic gestures one might do with a lover. Or if he just did whatever he wanted because it felt nice. You didn’t stop his gentle caress’ it felt too amazing on your jelly-like muscles. Instead, you pretended not to particularly enjoy the time you spent with him. Not saying anything that could ruin his innocent and happy bubble so early in the morning.

“Tae I have to go for a shower,” You thought this time a hot shower was needed, your muscles were in quite a bad way. The journey to the bathroom and shower and the actions required to get there and undress seemed both impossible and daunting.

“No don’t leave, I want to hug you” Did he not realise he was already hugging you? Your resolve wavered for a moment with the idea that maybe you could let him in and be nice. But the moment passed quickly and you sat up out of his arms he had rolled onto his chest pouting and kicking his legs under the blanket. His fake square mouth crying almost made you laugh and he noticed sitting up with a smirk.

“Tae it’s just a shower”

“Take me with you,” he pinched your hoodie between his thumb and forefinger, you blushed causing him to beam a brilliant megawatt smile, maybe he knew what he was doing all along. You tried to get up eyes watering in pain, he held on firmly to the hem of your clothes. “Take me with you, it’s not the first time we have showered together”

“Fine come on let’s shower, grab some clean clothes,” you said trying to pull his hand off your hoodie without flashing your underwear. He was frozen, his mouth falling open as he licked his lip, the idea of showering with you had been stuck in his mind ever since his drunken ordeal some nights ago. You managed to slip away from his grip and ducked quickly to the bathroom, remembering to lock the door behind you.

You were shampooing your hair when you heard him try the door and whine “you're a liar!” His cry made you unknowingly smile from safe and unseen behind the bathroom walls. Your brassiere was still drying after you showered in your clothes. Dressing in black shorts and a white button-up you decided to go without, to be safe you threw on a black blazer. You didn’t want for any reason the shirt to become see-through and reveal your thing is if you were going without a bra it had to be a look.

You put your hair in a business-appropriate style, your makeup was done with a dark lip tint and a slight bit of contouring of your cleavage. Adding jewellery you had found in the boxes. Simple geometric chain earring and layered geometric shape necklaces that had a chain that fell between your breasts both in silver. After slipping on some black heeled boots and looked in the mirror.

This was the look. You were fierce and ready to take on anything. When you left the bathroom Taehyung wasn’t there. Walking down the corridor you called for the elevator checking yourself out in the stainless steel doors. You couldn’t stop the small amount of concern that coursed through you for the boys to be impressed.

The people in the cafeteria were staring at you. Acting like it was no big deal as you confidently strode across the floor. The servers looked you over, shifting almost ashamed in their tracksuits, You made sure to be polite and compliment them. You weren’t a total bitch, nor did you think you were better than anyone here. They were talking hastily in Korean. Collecting your meal you turned to face the room. Areum waved at you from across the cafeteria. She was such a nice young woman, she had a boyfriend who face-timed her daily he was stuck in their apartment with their cats. She listened to your problems and even gave you great advice.

Waving back, she looked pretty in the dresses you had given her which were too small for you. She looked a lot less dishevelled having access to your secret shower you had given her a time slot where she could shower, in hopes that it was never congested in the basement. You didn’t want people to start wondering why everyone was hanging out down there. For the safety of the bathroom, you removed the sign on the door. So if anyone happened to go down there it looked like just another storage room. Aiming to sit next to your brother for lunch. He had, of course, threatened you to come out of the basement or he would give your secret shower location away to all the employees.

You carried your tray, walking slowly across the cafeteria floor. Still not spotting your brother. You ignored Taehyung's wave from their table. Someone snatched your tray, looking at them you saw Jungkook running towards the band’s table. Yoongi and Jimin wrapped their arms around your shoulders and waist, leading you without a chance to escape. Sitting you down trapped between them. Namjoon and Seokjin sat across from you both scanning your face and outfit.

“Ya don’t pout we aren’t that bad,” Seokjin said pointing his chopsticks at you and snapping them threateningly. It wasn’t a real threat he looked rather amused, his eyes glancing to the unbuttoned section of your shirt every now and again. Hoseok refused to speak while eating his breakfast and whenever he was spoken to he merely shrugged. You ate your breakfast in mostly silence, answering them only when they asked you a question.

Once breakfast was over you handed your tray over to the kitchen helpers and when you turned you saw Hoseok tongue pressed against his cheek staring at your ass in the shorts you were wearing. Whoever Gfriend was? They had some cute and stylish outfits. The others announced they were going to go get ready for the day, You went to the dance studio followed by Hoseok who sat at the back of the room watching you. You danced for about half an hour before the rest of the boys came in sitting beside Hoseok and cheering you on. The song you were halfway through dancing to had a lot you could relate to in your current situation. Dancing out your feelings.

Hoseok had seen it the moment it started the regression and depression in your eyes, he knew when you stopped leaving the basement, that something was wrong. When you started hiding from them in the halls and dodging them he knew they must have said something to hurt you. He thought it showed how much they cared, how completely wrapped around your finger they were. When you came back from the supply run gasping and begging for water he was the one to get it. But hearing you say that they didn’t care because they were famous. He wasn’t expecting that at first, he was hurt and mad because none of that was true, but the more he thought about it he knew you were right about one thing. Without the quarantine, you might not have met.

He wondered how he could make you trust them, that they wouldn’t just leave you when this was over, but he didn’t know for sure if they would even have time to hang out after. You had a right to be upset. No amount of makeup you wore could conceal the puffiness around your eyes. And here you were again a few tears falling as you put your soul into your dance.

You spun a complete circle ready for the chorus, only to spot Hoseok in the mirror dancing beside you. Copying some of your choreography that you had been repeating every chorus and when you kicked your leg up he caught it. Pulling you forward to fall against his strong chest. They all didn’t look like much but they were all so very strong. While still holding your leg he wrapped his free arm around your back. Lifting you slightly and walking you back towards the mirror, you were both panting chest to chest your leg secure in his hand above your head.

You felt the stretch in your hamstring and groaned. Your muscles were still sore. Turning your head away, not wanting to be a part of whatever it was he thought he was doing. He whispered in Korean his thumb brushing your cheek which you hadn’t realised was damp from tears. Pushing him away you straightened up both feet firmly planted on the ground.

You grabbed your things and tried to leave, you were getting too emotional. They were trying to get close to you again. Didn’t Hoseok say that you weren’t friends? Namjoon stopped you grabbing your arm. “Did we do something wrong?”

“No” You refused to look at him and his grip tightened slightly as he tried to stop you struggling. “Look, I am just preparing for when the quarantine is over and we never see or speak to each other again because you boys are Korean celebrities and I am just a random foreigner who took your interest for a few days”

“Hey that’s not how we see you,” he said but you didn’t want to hear it, it could only make it worse if he actually said they thought of you as their actual friend. Because then you would get attached and when this was all over you would have to learn to cope never being able to see them again. Because of their crazy work schedule. What was the point of being friends? You knew you didn’t think this way, you would happily wait for them no matter how long their schedule was your whole life would be on pause for them. It was a dangerous way to live.

Passing Areum your head down, she called to you. Ducking into the elevator the doors closed on the shadow of a figure running towards it calling your name. The doors shut giving you a place to let your guard down, except when the door opened once more and you were met with the gorgeous sight of Kim Seokjin. He stepped inside and closed the doors. He hit the basement button and leaned back against the wall panting.

“I got to work out more” you passed the second floor and he turned walking over. “You are right we Korean idols, we aren’t allowed to date, or hook up with anyone”

He tucked your hair behind your ear. “But that doesn’t mean our feelings aren’t real we are human” he reached up his palm covering the Elevator camera and he tilted your head up with his free hand. His face was so close and his eyes burning in anger. Anger that you could only assume was aimed at the very same idol status that was holding back from life. His breathing shook either from the chase or from the raw emotion he was feeling. “That doesn’t mean we don’t want to”

You were struck once in the chest, it was like the strike of lightning. He opened his mouth to speak but closed it once more unsure of the right words. The problem with the service elevator is it moved slower than the others, so you finally passed the first floor. And like that his lips were on yours. They were so soft and slid with such ease across yours. His warm tongue joining in and he tilted his head deepening the kiss and pressing you further against the wall. You felt helpless like Seokjin and the boys were an ocean at high tide and what was once shallow water had risen up around your knees and pulled you in. But every time it pulled you in it pushed you back. You were going to drown you just knew it. He was breathing heavily and audibly. Not wanting this to stop as he was finally feeling free, he finally was able to act on something.

All too soon the elevator slowed. He placed his free hand on the wall beside your head and pushed against it, straightening himself back up. Looking up at him, he seemed to recall his blank demeanour now that his hand was removed from the security camera. Feeling your heart drop, disappointed eyes stinging as you tried to hold back tears. You punched Seokjin in the chest, you were too exhausted and weren’t particularly trying to hurt him. “Stop playing with my emotions. Is this funny to you?”

Storming off you went to your ‘home’ and curled up in your blanket, your hand drifting to your lips as you could still feel him there. You could still taste him. The memories wouldn’t stop replaying and you hated how it felt so good. You were having a panic attack and as luck would have it, your asthma puffer was four floors above you.

[Part 1] [Part 6] [Part 8] [Tag Yourself Here]

Tags: @bubbletae7 @lovemusicandotps @taetaeb @seveniefive @w0lfqu33n @anaiss97 @moccahobi @maddymal

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n0-eyedtaissa · 4 years

Text

Coffee and Contemplation (Spencer Reid x Maxine Brenner)

Summary: A casual coffee date turns into a lesson about profiling and attention to detail

Word Count: 1,770

Spencer flits about his kitchen nervously, noticing the crumbs that have accumulated under the toaster and the coffee stains that riddled the too-sticky counter. Max doesn’t seem to take any notice to the pile of junk mail sitting on top of the kitchen counter, though Spencer was astonished about how she could brush it off, his detailed brain going into overdrive as he kept finding other ways to occupy his attention and his anxieties.

“Coffee?” He offers, already up and out of his chair to put on the kettle.

“Please” Max lilts as she tucks herself into one of the thrift store chairs and pokes around the various newspapers that Spencer had read earlier that morning, thumbing around until she found a crossword puzzle with only a few spaces filled in.

“Ah, so you consider yourself to be something of a Cruciverbalist?” Spencer asks, feeling genuinely curious to learn more things about Maxine as this was officially their fifth coffee date (their eighth date overall and the third time that Max had been inside his apartment).

Max stops scribbling her answers down and looks at Spencer with raised eyebrows. “In laymen’s terms please?” She asks sarcastically, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips.

“Someone who is skillful in creating and solving crossword puzzles” Spencer reveals, giving her the same kind of closed-mouth smile he often gave in the instances where he thought he said too much.

“Oh god no” Max laughs, taking the steaming mug of coffee out of Spencer’s outstretched hand. Their fingers touch and Spencer can’t help but feel a jolt of electricity, though it may have been a product of him holding onto the hot ceramic for too long.

Spencer sits next to Max, not across from her, and he wonders if that was the right choice.

The two of them had met by chance in a park one afternoon on the rare day where Spencer wasn’t working. Now, he wasn’t one to believe in fate, be he knew fact. Probability, he figured, as if there were some sort of mathematical equation that could account for the two of them being at the same place at the same time.

Max shifts her body towards Spencer subconsciously as she grabs for the cream and sugar. Spencer can’t help but profile her, noting all the ways in which she was signaling her trust and comfort with him: Max’s legs were crossed in the seat of the chair and she leaned close enough so Spencer could read over her shoulder, though he’d already read the whole page four times over before she had even picked up her pen again. Max tucked her hair behind her ear as she filled in the squares for thirty-two down.

“You know, I can tell when you’re thinking too hard over there” Max chuckles lightly as she eyes Spencer from her peripherals, watching as he sat up stiff as a ramrod, like he was a kid getting caught for doing something he shouldn’t have been.

“H-how can you tell?”

“Are you asking me for a lesson in profiling, Dr. Reid?” Max raises an eyebrow at Spencer and he chuckles in response. Unlike most people who saw Spencer’s ability for long-winded rants as an annoying hindrance or a distraction, Max tended to enjoy just listening to him talk, bracing herself for whatever speech was in store for her with a sarcastic, yet adoring utterance of ‘The doctor’s in…’. That’s what she called him when he was being smart like that, “The Doctor”. Max always felt like she learned something from Spencer, and she appreciated his abundance of knowledge (even if it’s delivery was often ill-timed). But the idea that Spencer could learn something from her barely seemed to cross Max’s mind.

“Try it, let’s see…SSA Brenner” Spencer gets up from his chair quickly, moving to sit across the table from Max like it was an interrogation room and she was talking to an unsub. He sits up straight again and laces his fingers together, trying to look calm and cavalier but really coming across as the opposite. “Profile me” There’s a taunting quality to Spencer’s words that makes Maxine nervous and excited at the same time.

“Spencer Reid, if that’s even your real name!” Max starts out dramatically with a boisterous laugh, completely unsure of how Spencer and his team were able to conduct these kinds of interviews so seamlessly.

Spencer laughs, his foot somehow finding hers under the table. He taps the toe of his well-worn shoe against hers, “C’mon, take it seriously. How are you going to get information out of this guy?” He puts on his fake-tough face and Max tries her best to collect herself.

“I already have it.”

Spencer raises a curious eyebrow. “You already have the information?”

“Yup” Max looks smug as she gazes at Spencer from across the table.

“Well…” Spencer starts, trying to offer her a piece of useful advice but falling short. He wasn’t used to being the one in the hot seat, being profiled by a beautiful woman who kept getting more and more intriguing to him with every morsel she revealed about herself. “How do you know he’s telling the truth?”

“Body language, the oldest tell in the book” Max reveals again, her tone even and confident and absolutely puzzling to Spencer.

“Body language” Spencer repeats in a barely-there whisper.

“You’ve been bouncing your knee since you sat down across from me. You weren’t doing that when you were sitting in this chair” Max gestures to the now-empty seat next to her with a sly smile before she continues. “Now that’s a nervous tick if I ever did see one. Possibly a sign of over-caffeination, but you don’t have to be in the FBI to realize that something…or someone, is making you nervous”

Spencer catches himself before he can start bouncing his knee up and down again, suddenly feeling very vulnerable. “Is that it? You catch on to one nervous tick and suddenly it’s the key to the whole mystery, case closed?” Max shakes her head no.

“Also, if you didn’t have anything to hide, you wouldn’t be trying so hard to sit up straight. Your posture is painfully proper, and Spencer, no offense, but you slouch too much” A hint of a smile plays on the corner of Max’s lips.

Spencer can’t seem to find a comment to make about that one.

“You do this thing when you’re thinking too hard, furrowing your eyebrows together until it looks almost painful.” Max finds herself leaning across the table, reaching an arm out to gingerly caress Spencer’s face and smooth out the wrinkle in his brow with the gentle pad of her thumb. “You’re trying to put all of the pieces together and it’s like I can hear your wheels turning but I don’t have any idea what’s going on in your head.” Max gives Spencer a sad sort of smile as she settles back into the chair across from him.

“Everything” Spencer says quietly. “Everything is going on in my head always and sometimes I don’t know how to stop it.” The sudden step towards vulnerability makes Max look up suddenly, accosted by the unabashed honesty that Spencer was giving her.

“Well, maybe if you focus on the ‘good everything,’ the ‘bad everything’ won’t seem so scary in comparison” She shrugs. It seems easier said than done. Spencer had been working with the Behavioral Analysis Unit for over a decade and had probably seen more pain and suffering in one week than Max would see in her entire life. It was probably silly of her to think that the good could outweigh the bad and she would admit that, but she had always been a glass half-full type of person.

“The good everything…” Spencer repeated, mulling it over like he would with a case detail, trying to pick out the patterns and the inconsistencies, trying his best to recall what stuck out to him as being important and why. “Okay I got something”

“Hit me” Max chuckles, leaning closer to Spencer from her spot across the table.

“When I first met you, you were wearing a light blue sweater and that little gold necklace you always wear” His hazel eyes trace over the sharp planes of her collarbones, the necklace’s gold pendant gleaming in the mid-afternoon light. “We bought soft pretzels at the park and you ordered yours with extra salt. You can never get the coffee-to-cream ratio right and that’s why you haven’t touched your coffee in approximately six minutes”

Max laughs and pushes her too-light mug of coffee to the side, resting her chin on top of her hand as she continued to listen to Spencer.

“You always wear shoes that make you taller—“ Max goes to cut off Spencer with an explanation that he already knows, so he holds up a slender finger and continues: “When you were younger, your sister Michelle said that taller shoes would make you look more mature, and you’ve been running with that ever since.” He smiles shyly as he looks up at Max and notices the blush that was threatening to creep up her neck.

Max knew that because of his eidetic memory, he was a very detail-oriented person, but she foolishly assumed that he used his skills the most for work or the reading he did in his downtime. To have all of his detailed recollections be aimed at her made her nervous, she could feel the butterflies taking flight in her stomach and felt a juvenile sense of giddiness in her chest every time Spencer’s eyes met hers. She felt seen, but more importantly she felt known.

“So I guess we’re both pretty good profilers, huh?” Max smiles as she gazes up at Spencer, her foot resting against his under the table.

In a swift moment, Spencer quietly pushes himself out of his chair and rounds the kitchen table to sit next to Max, just like they were earlier. His long arm comes to circle around her shoulders and she instinctually moves to rest her head in the crook of his neck. “Definitely a promising young candidate for the BAU” Spencer jokes, pressing a kiss to her temple and picking up the ballpoint pen that lay resting on the table, turning his attention to the still mostly-blank crossword puzzle.

Three-letter word for someone or something beautiful. Spencer bites at the end of his pen before scribbling his answer.

M-A-X

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x max #maxine brenner x spencer reid #maxine brenner #maxcer #criminal minds imagine

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kenmasgameboy · 4 years

Text

PIPSQUEAK

a kuroo x gangmember!reader

summary;

" you like to cause a bit of trouble, pipsqueak?"

" pipsqueak? seriously?"

Life for you got turned upside down after your first year at Nekoma high. Realizing it was too dangerous, your parents sent you back to live in Miyagi and attend Karasuno with your old friends. Kuroo Tetsuro, the Police Chiefs son, comes into contact with you in the most unexpected way possible, bringing trouble wherever you both go.

—————————-

Prologue.

High school was never that interesting to you. Though, you'll admit that it was a good way to help the days pass. You always found different games to help.

At first, games to you meant sneaking out of the house, slashing tires, almost getting arrested, going to parties. You had a bad reputation. You had been mixed up with all the wrong people before at your old school. But now you were going to turn your life around. Even if that means that now games to you would mean studying. Kind of.

The closest you'd probably get to your new life would be getting in trouble for minor things at school. For example, falling asleep in class was a specialty of yours. Truly, an art form. Waking up to that sweet slap of a ruler against your desk was better than any alarm clock you'd ever hear. The rush in your chest, the heat to your cheeks, the sweaty palms. Incredible. But that is it. You promised your mother that this year you would be making her proud at Karasuno. You wouldn't be hanging out with those "thugs" as she liked to call them. You would keep up, maybe pay attention, and maybe make some more real friends.

The truth was that school never felt like a real challenge to you. Sure there were plenty of difficult subjects that made you feel stupid but you always kept out of the drama, minded your business, and kept your head down. It was fine. There really was a target on your back now that you were the new girl at school though, and you had adjusted week by week meeting new people and reuniting with some old ones, too. But ultimately you decided the social system just wasn't made for you. There wasn't really a good place for you to fit in, or maybe it just wasn't comparing to the kind of family you made before.

Today was one of those days where your motivation was at its peak, you were taking good notes. Studied for a quiz, been overly diligent. Then that sweet beautiful sound of the lunch bell rang, you pulled out your food, grabbed your skateboard, and left the classroom in a bit of a hurry. As you were leaving you started to hear a conversation:

Dude, don't worry, I have it completely handled. Watch...

"(Y/N)!" Narita, your classmate called for you once you exited the room and into the hallway. He stood next to Ennoshita who looked like he would explode any second. You knew Narita, him and Ennoshita were in Class 4 with you and you really didn't have that many real friends at school but you wouldn't mind calling them that. They were some of the friends you were reunited with from middle school, they were a big comfort to you when you transferred in.

"Hey, how's it going?" You slowly walked over, trying to find your excuse to leave and take a nap without seeming impolite.

"Great, good. Thanks, yourself?" Narita answered for him and Ennoshita. He also seemed in a hurry for some reason but was much worse at covering it up.

"Pretty tired, but uh, for the most part—" You started but your sentence didn't last long.

"You should come to my party! Uh— Our party. We're having a party it would probably wake you up. It's in Tokyo! I mean—" Narita came in strong.

"Nice, buddy. You really do got this handled." Was all Ennoshita followed it up with, "Gotta go, see you guys in class."

"A party?" You laughed a little, just because these guys were anything but the partying type. You started walking and Narita was following you like a hawk, "Don't you guys have volleyball practice or something?"

"Yeah, of course. But not this Friday night! I mean technically we do but we'll be done at 6:30. Party can start at 7:30." Narita followed up, "All the volleyball guys will be there, too. We have a summer training camp in Tokyo starting on Monday so this is kind of the only day we can get everyone together. We already had our friends from Nekoma invite pretty much everyone they knew."

"N-Nekoma, huh?" Your smile wavered, "That sounds like it'll be really fun for you guys. Thanks for the invite, but I don't really know anyone on your team. Plus, I can't get to Tokyo by 7:30." You said, declining as well as you could without making your answer too suspicious.

"Well, yeah about that. Um, by 'it's in Tokyo' what I meant to say was Tokyo guys will be there. They're volleyball players, too, actually." He explained, rubbing the back of his neck and adjusting his satchel, trying his best to act cool and lean against the vending machine you were using.

"So, it's a Volleyball mixer with you guys and a bunch of guys from Tokyo but it's not in Tokyo? Where is it, then?" You asked for the elaboration, kind of liking this dancing way to get to the point.

"Yes, well and other schools in Miyagi, too. It's a lot of schools, I mean I'm talking Nekoma, Fukorodani, Aoba Johsai, Johzenji, Date Tech, Shiratorizawa.. maybe.. Inarizaki.. and more.. again maybe. But it's at Kinoshita's house. Which is still kinda far, but it has a pool! His family is loaded and they'll all be gone this weekend." Narita finally got to the point.

"Sounds like it'll be a good time for you guys. I'm happy for you, sounds like you've made a lot of friends from other schools." You cheers'd your milk to him and started walking again to find a place to eat.

"No, no. Girls will be there, too. It's kinda the whole point."

"You really have to work on your pitch." You said plainly.

"Please, I need your help (Y/N). I was put in charge of getting girls to come to this party." Narita begged, you couldn't help but let out a laugh at his desperation. In all your years of knowing him and being in the same classes you had never seen him talk to a single girl who wasn't in a group project or something related to it.

"Why you?"

"It was either me or Tanaka."

"Oh, then definitely you are the better choice." You agreed, having known just from the previous stories he's told you. "Interesting proposition. I'll think about it."

"You'll think about it and say yes?" He tried, "Every time I talk to a pretty girl I feel like I'm going to throw up, I can't talk to groups of girls and invite them to a party. But you're likable, more well known now since you're the new girl."

"First of all, rude that I don't make you want to throw up. I'm pretty, sometimes."

"Fair."

"How about, I'll say yes if you tell me who it is you have a crush on, which girl you most want at this party then I'll help out." You offered. Narita thought for a minute as you started eating your lunch.

"Fine." He nodded, "This is my duty to my boys." Then he leaned into your ear and whispered the name of the prettiest and smartest girl in your class: Ichika Yua. Ichika was going to be a tough sell.

"Alright. A deals a deal. You've given me a secret and I will do what I can do. How many girls do you need, anyway? Are we going for a 1:1 ratio or..?"

"No, these guys need a much higher chance I think. Let's try a 4:1 ratio."

"Yeah, actually you're gonna take what you can get."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Now give me the rundown on your team. I don't really know any of them and I need to know for my pitches I have to do this week. And don't think because I'm doing some work means that you can slack off okay. I really only know 2nd-year girls, if you want 3rd year or 1st you have to go to them. You need to try too. Also, will there be alcohol?" You listed off your demands and were straight forward. Narita made a slow nod,

"Oh, I almost forgot. Do you know any girls from Nekoma who could come?" He asked you the dreaded question.

Yup, you were originally supposed to spend your high school years at Nekoma High School. When you were entering high school your dad got a job offer in Tokyo, forcing you to move out there after middle school. Then after everything happened, your Mom knew it was too risky to let you live out in Tokyo still and she shipped you back here to go to Karasuno and live in a small apartment by yourself. You have family friends who come to check on you and your parents visit when they can. It's not horrible, at least now you get to come back to streets more familiar.

"Um, I think the girls I knew from Nekoma aren't exactly the girls you want at a party. Besides, you should just ask your volleyball brethren to ask some girls and pull their weight. Or are they too pretty for you to talk to?" You teased Narita and knocked his head.

"Hey, girls are girls." Narita held his head from where you knocked it.

"Sure, if thats the case then the next time you see me I better be seeing some chunks."

You and Narita continued to eat lunch together that day. Until you realized you only had a limited amount of time left and had to use the bathroom before class so you excused yourself. You skated away around the outside of the courtyard with a bun in your mouth and around some of your other classmates, waving.

"Dude, uh. Who was that?" A guy with an aggressive appearance walked up to Narita, having walked past a few minutes before but stayed just to gawk.

"Huh? (Y/N)?" Narita clarified, innocently.

"(Y/N)... wow. What a beautiful name." Tanaka sighed in simp, "Is she our year?"

"Yeah, man. She's in my class. You never noticed her before? I'm surprised she was the talk of Karasuno guys for like the whole first week of this year." He laughed. "She is technically new to Karasuno this year. But she's from Miyagi, I've known her since grade school."

"My babe sensor has been reserved for Kiyoko only recently. Trying to be loyal." He humphed, "You guys a thing?"

"What? No, no." Narita laughed, "No, we've just been friends for a while. She's helping me get girls to come to the party on Friday."

Tanaka jumped up with optimism, "Yes! This is going to be the best party of our high school lives!"

"I hope so." Narita rubbed his neck to try and tame his nerves again.

"(Y/N).." Tanaka sighed again, "You know who's gonna go nuts when they get a look at her, right?"

"I know."

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Thank you so much for reading!! Please let me know what you think and keep reading!!

#kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo smau #kuroo #haikyuu #kuroo x reader #x reader #kuroo fanfic #kuroo tetsurou fanfic #gang #gang member #fanfic #kuroo fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #kuroo tetsuro #kuroo tetsurou #nekoma #karasuno

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bluepenguinstories · 3 years

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Remoras Full Chapter XXVI: Coleslaw is Good, Actually

My eyes feel like shit.

...My head also feels like shit. How much sleep did I get? Two hours? Three, if I’m lucky. In a few minutes, I’ll get a call. It seems to happen every time I’m home, without fail. I might only get a couple hours. Three, at most. Then, bzzt! There it goes.

I turned to my left side, where my husband was fast asleep. No phone call. No pager duty. Thank goodness.

Maybe it’s just one of those lucky days where I can actually get some sleep, I thought. Still, it wasn’t very likely to happen. I checked my phone. It was almost 8 AM. My husband, Cole, tended to sleep in. We both worked long hours at our respective jobs; mine, a doctor. Him, an electrician. I didn’t understand a bit of what went into that, but he never really discussed his job with me.

It must have been lonely, though. Going into people’s homes, fixing up lines. Something like that. Meanwhile, I had plenty of people to interact with. Had to put on smiles for them all. Many of them were dying of one disease or another, or getting surgery. It was kind of a gloomy position, but I was far from alone. In a way, our jobs might have been the same. We both kind of helped people. Without electricity, certain things wouldn’t work, like lights. Without doctors, some people couldn’t get better and their health would take a toll. But even then, I couldn’t save everyone.

That kind of line of thinking is terrible, though. For every life that we can’t save, there are at least a few that are. Even if the ratio was reversed, the lives that are saved make a huge difference. Seeing their smiling faces, going back home, or on the road to recovery, it was the whole reason why I do what I do...but then, the bloody messes, the ailments that get worse until their lives are lost. The ones who don’t recover, the grief and images stay with you and can’t be scrubbed out. Yet I’m required to smile and try to cheer everyone up regardless.

“When was the last time I smiled for you?” I leaned over, my face hovered over his, and mumbled. He didn’t answer. Of course not. The man was a heavy sleeper. What a blessing that I didn’t have to worry about whether or not he was getting enough sleep. What a curse that the few precious moments I have to see him, he’s often already asleep.

I poked his tit. Yes, that was the medical term for it. Or maybe it wasn’t. My brain went to weird places when I didn’t get much sleep.

“Hey hun. We should do something if we ever get a day off together. Maybe a nice dinner. Or we could go see the northern lights together. Wouldn’t that be romantic? We could stay at home, curl up with some popcorn, marathon Danny DeVito movies.”

He smiled, then stirred awake.

“All of that sounds good,” he muttered, his voice a very sour groggy sound. Like he just got done eating a bag of gravel. It was sexy in a way, though. I did hope that he was drinking enough water. Even in a cold place like this, it was important to stay hydrated.

His face was plain. His arms were beefy. Hairy, even. He had no shirt on, but a pair of jeans. His titties just poked out without a care in the world. Yes, as a doctor, I was qualified to say all that.

Why did I fall in love with him again? I forgot. That wasn’t such a bad thought. It was just how all of my energy was spent at work, caring for people I didn’t know, that my memory of him has long since slipped.

I recalled a time when I first informed Ray that I was now married.

“Who’s the lucky person?” He asked me.

“His name is Cole Slaw,” I told him.

“How did he propose?” Ray then asked. That I had to think over.

“He was like ‘will you marry me?’ And I shrugged and said, ‘sure’.”

“That’s it?! You do like him, right?!” That left him flabbergasted. I wasn’t sure why. Thinking about it, flabbergasted itself was a funny word.

“Yeah, probably,” I also shrugged.

Still, I knew I liked Cole for something. I just couldn’t remember what.

I could have written it down somewhere, just in case, I thought, but I also thought better of it. For me, it was enough to know that I did, regardless of circumstances.

Now, he sat at the edge of the bed. Time must have passed while I was lost in those thoughts. I was laying down.

“Let’s just stay in bed. I don’t have work today,” I poked Cole’s bare back. His well defined shoulder blades, to be more precise.

He turned to me, while slipping on a shirt. What a bummer. Still, his smile made it just a little more worth it.

“Sure, why not? Neither do I.”

Then my phone rang.

I checked it, but it was from a number I didn’t recognize.

It must not be work, then. It’s also not Ray. Maybe it’s better if I don’t answer that.

“Aren’t you going to answer that, hun?” He asked with a yawn while he rubbed his eyes.

Careful. If you didn’t wash your hands, you could get bacteria in your eyes. If you rub too hard, your eyes can get all irritated, were things I thought to say, but didn’t. Instead, I looked over.

“It’s not the hospital. I’d rather spend time with you,” despite my pleas, I sounded disinterested. My voice always seemed to betray me. The tired, low energy that I exerted. To combat it, I flitted my eyelashes.

The phone continued to ring. Its vibrations shook the bed. I continued to ignore it and stared at him.

“You should really answer that,” he pointed.

I sighed. Yes, any responsible doctor would, I imagine.

I picked up the phone and held it against my ear. As I did, I was greeted by the distraught voice of a young woman, her pitch on the higher end of the vocal spectrum, but still a bit of a roughness thrown in.

“Hello?” She asked.

“Hi,” my groggy, tired voice replied. Rather similar inflection that Cole had, as well, but I felt like if I had just a little more energy, I could have given a better tonal greeting.

“You’re a doctor, right?” She sounded unsure, as if she might have had the wrong number.

“Mm. That’s what they call me.” Except Ray, damn him. He still referred to me by name, as if he had little regard for all the hard work and accomplishments I made.

Actually, I think that’s just because we’re friends. He’s even gotten better at calling me Dr. Cole-Slaw. I guess I should cut him some slack.

“Good. Look. I’ve got someone who could really use a doctor. She hasn’t been feeling well in a few days and I’ve been doing my best, but she hasn’t been getting any better. I feel like shit, because I know I don’t know shit about medical shit, but I hate to see her like this. Could you please come over?” Her voice was frantic. Rushed, even. On one hand, she said please, but on the other hand, did she have to say “shit” that many times.

I sighed. Or yawned. Shook my head, as well. Just my luck, wasn’t it?

“Are you at the hospital right now?” I asked. Now I was the one who sat up, against the edge of the bed as well. It must have been instinct that I was already ready to go.

“No, but that shouldn’t matter, right?! She’s sick and you’re a doctor!” Worry now. Just about yelled into her phone. Not a good look. It was a pity, then, that I had to be the bearer of bad news.

“I don’t do home visits. I’m sorry. If you can make it to the hospital, I can treat this person there, otherwise –”

“Ray told me you were dependable!” She cut me off. How rude. Not the cutting off part, I could imagine how stressed she was. But that Ray would tell this person such a poisonous thought. Oh well, if anything, that just made things more interesting. In fact, a smile crept along my face.

“Ray and I have a special relationship,” I explained, then held the phone away and covered the speakers with my hand and turned to Cole. “Hope you don’t mind me saying that, hun.”

“Not at all!” He also smiled and waved his hand away.

I then put the phone back against my ear.

“You know Ray, huh?” I egged her on.

“Yes,” she replied. “I’m at his diner right now! So you should know where to go! Just come over!” She sounded on the verge of tears.

I shrugged my shoulders and had to stifle back a laugh. Loathe as I was to admit, but I felt like a sadist. Like I was the one holding all of the cards in this situation.

“I’m sorry, but even if I were to come over, I wouldn’t be able to treat this person without their consent. Doctors require the consent of the patient to treat them.”

“Ah, I understand,” her voice darkened. Almost drained of emotion, like how mine was. It was a little unnerving. Next, came the unexpected: she yelled.

“Hey Remora! Will you let this doctor take care of you?!”

“NO! NO DOCTORS!” In the background, a hoarse and wheezing voice yelled right back. It wasn’t all that loud, but it sounded like she used up a lot of energy just to muster it.

So that’s the sick one in question, huh? Could be laryngitis.

“Sorry, but she said no, so it’s out of my control,” I shook my head.

I then heard the phone be thrown onto the floor with a thud. No cracking sound. She must have had a durable phone, at the very least. Then came another slam, this time, it was her fist against the wall. Something I shouldn’t have been able to hear.

It probably got put on speaker by accident. I should probably hang up, but I feel it would be rude to do so without saying goodbye, even if I feel like this isn’t getting anywhere.

“Why...why is it always like this? I try to help, but I can’t help anyone. I’m so useless. I can’t cook, I stumble with my words, and I barely understand myself, let alone others. I want to help, but there’s nothing I can do!” She ranted on.

“By the way,” I pointed out. “You’re on speaker.”

No response. Maybe it really was useless. It wasn’t a total lie to say that I needed permission. As disappointed as she would probably be, I didn’t see any other way around it.

“Sorry, but I’m going to have to go now –”

“Just. Wait. Stay on the line,” she seethed. She was still a few feet away from her phone but I heard it well enough.

Her footsteps then. She must have been in the same room as the would-be patient.

“Why don’t you want to see a doctor?” She asked. As quiet and calm as her voice was, I doubt it really was. If I had to guess, she was just determined.

“I hate them. They scare me,” replied the weary voice.

I wonder if I should take offense. I don’t. I’ve heard such things before. People being afraid of dentists. Surgeons. Needles. Scalpels. Can’t say I blame her.

“Why do they scare you? You’re the toughest person I know. If anything, you should scare them.”

...The fuck? I thought. What does being tough have to do with seeing a doctor? The nerve.

Still, props for one thing: whether fake or not (I couldn’t gauge one way or the other), her voice turned gentle, patient, even. There was still a roughness there, but her attempt at being calm was commendable.

“It’s because they give false hope. They say they can cure you if you just give them money, and then they don’t. Worst yet is that I’ve believed them. It’s fine if it helps others, but I want nothing to do with them.”

For someone with such a weak voice, all of that came out clear. Maybe I just had really clean ears. I think that was a good quality to have. Everyone should keep their ears clean.

“Is this related to your other condition?”

“Yes. It’s unbearable sometimes, and I’ve been desperate in the past to get rid of it. I know it’s not normal and most people don’t experience things that way, but despite everything, it persists.”

Huh. Interesting. Don’t know what kind of doctors told her such things, but that didn’t sound right.

“Well, I can’t promise that this doctor can help with that, either. But you’ve got another condition right now that could be treatable. And if she comes and promises you something she can’t keep, then I’ll beat her up for you. You can count on that.”

Who the hell does she think she is? Beating up a doctor?

There was a few seconds of pause. Time which could have been spent laying back down, if I had such a luxury.

“Okay. I’ll do it,” came the reply of the hoarse voice at last.

Footsteps again. Phone picked up. Muffled sounds of static, then:

“She consents,” returned the roughness.

“So I heard,” my smile remained. It was less mean-spirited now. More genuine. “Good job. You must really care about her.”

“Yeah.”

“Are you two friends?” I asked, ever so curious.

“No.”

“Lovers?”

“Nothing like that.”

Huh. It seemed like they were close in some way.

“Siblings or relatives?”

“Not at all.”

“Then what is your relation?”

“I don’t know. I just really care about her. That’s all.”

Such a simple reply. I suppose it was better than nothing. Things didn’t always need to be so well defined, anyway, did they?

“So? Will you come over?” She pressed the issue. Right. It seemed like everything was in the clear. Almost.

“I don’t know…” My voice trailed. That famous “unsure” phrase when you really wanted to say no, but weren’t confident about doing so. In my case, I felt a little playful about it, though. It probably didn’t come out playful. Probably came out more morose, if anything.

“Oh, come on, hun. Quit teasing them!” Cole scolded.

I covered the phone.

“But I wanted to spend time with you,” I whined. Again, probably didn’t sound like a whine. Probably sounded like I was bored.

By all accounts, everything was in the clear. Well, almost…

“Look,” I gave my reply at last. “I don’t work for free.”

“I get it. I’m willing to pay whatever it takes. Name your price.”

How bold. Just how rich was she?

“I don’t need your money,” I answered her.

“Then what? Like I said, I’m willing to do anything.”

Ray’s influence must have rubbed off on me. Maybe just a little. For I knew just what I wanted.

“A favor. I am doing you a favor by going there. So you will owe me a favor in return.”

“What’s the favor?” She asked, a noticeable gulp emitted from her.

“I will tell you when the time is right,” I gave my cryptic answer. In truth, I had no idea what I would ask of her, at all, but it felt exciting to know that somebody owed me something in the future.

I buttoned up my blouse. There was a spare pair of scrubs and a mask in the Hospital Mobile (my truck which holds many medical supplies and equipment).

“Sorry, hun, but I’m leaving you,” I joked to Cole in my (unfortunate) tired monotone. He didn’t give an answer. Not so much as a chuckle. “I’m going to be seeing someone else.”

Again, no answer. I looked behind me. He was once again fast asleep.

“I’ll be back later tonight,” I whispered to him as I got up. Hopefully that was a promise I could keep.

On the way there, I couldn’t shake the feeling that it was all too familiar. That I’ve done such a thing before. That’s when I remembered that almost a couple years ago, I went over there to check up on some kid. Apparently this woman found her and got all panicky. Ray called me up, filled in the details, and I accepted. All because I owed him a favor. Now I’d be going to that place again, all because someone was going to owe me a favor.

And thus the cycle repeats.

What was that favor, though?

I thought hard about it. My memory was often too fuzzy to remember precious moments outside of work. It was a shame, but what could I do?

Then it hit me: the favor was work related. Of course it was.

It was a horrible experience. Blood bags had gone missing. The staff were having trouble doing transfusions and some of the patients had reported strange shadows in the middle of the night. Rumors started circulating about there being vampires. I didn’t buy into such things, but that didn’t matter when the serious reality was that medical supplies were being stolen.

Ray was an old friend of mine. Acquaintance, more like. We met...I don’t remember where or how. Maybe we both went to the same school at one point. Couldn’t tell which, though, if any. Maybe we just met at a bar. That wasn’t likely, but it was just as likely as the school thing, considering my poor memory. Whatever it was, he had told me a few years back about his side job as someone who investigates rumors. It was a stretch, but I was desperate.

Similar to that girl on the phone, I too was willing to pay whatever price he asked for. Those patients were much more important than any money or possession I may have had.

“You don’t need to pay me anything, Shirley. We’re friends, aren’t we?” Despite his warm and soft voice, he had that sly smile about him like he already knew what he wanted. “Just consider this a favor.”

“Oh, thank you,” I was relieved. I must have been in tears, and I was so wide-eyed, too.

“But, if this is a favor, then a favor is what you will owe. Favor for a favor,” he waved his finger. Of course. I should have known. His nature was already familiar with me, and he loved to strike up deals.

“Very well,” I told him. “Do you have anything in mind?”

“How about this? If I find out what’s been behind this and return those blood bags back to you, then the next time I need medical care, you will be there. No matter where I am. Can you do that?”

I couldn’t tell who was getting the better deal, but I agreed. As the days passed, the worries grew. Those who needed blood couldn’t receive them, as we were still short supply. But then, on the third day, he returned, with many bags in a box of ice.

“Hope these will still be good,” he motioned to the box. I was so relieved, but I couldn’t help but wonder what the truth behind the matter was.

“So, was it vampires?” I asked.

“Unfortunately, no,” he sounded disappointed as he shook his head. “It would have been fun if they were, then I could have been a vampire hunter. In the end, though, they were just some cult of weird guys who thought they were vampires, but weren’t really.”

“Despite the answer being mundane, there’s something still awful about that, don’t you think?”

“Yeah, but I was hoping for something more exciting.”

As detached as that sounded, and as much as I must have been appalled at that at the time, now I found the sentiment resonated with me. Sure, there were “exciting” things at the hospital, like heart attacks and sudden worsening conditions, but after a while, it was hard to even react. It just becomes sad. Even if it was something dramatic, or brought on by misfortune, I would rather experience something like out of an action-adventure movie. Maybe dinosaurs or bandits. Something where I could feel triumphant. Not that there weren’t triumphs. Lives that were saved, patients who got to go back home to their families. But...I wasn’t sure. Maybe I just wanted to feel something that wasn’t work related.

It didn’t take long for me to arrive. I got out into the brisk air. Something else I was used to, as well. Why did I ever choose to live in such a harsh and gloomy environment? If I searched for the answer, I might have come up with something like, “because despite how hard things can be, there is still beauty to be found here.”

Would that have been the truth? I wondered that as I got into the scrubs and reached into the back of the truck for my briefcase. In it were various medical supplies which I might not even need, but it still seemed useful to bring.

After all that was settled, I ventured in.

Inside wasn’t anything special. An empty that was too clean for its own good. It was a shame, considering I knew how passionate Ray could be about cooking. Not only that, but with the cleanliness, if others were to walk in they would be wowed by presentation alone. That was my opinion, as a doctor, anyway.

My first encounter with another living soul was a child who ran from the back door and up to me. She had orange and red streaked hair which resembled a red panda. Or a tiger. Though red pandas were easier to envision.

“Oh whoa! It’s you!” She remarked. As if she recognized me. Which meant that I might have seen her before. Then it clicked. Of course. That was the same child that the strange woman found. It turned out that although she would have died if left out longer in the snow, she still didn’t suffer any long term ailments. Still, I had the one who recovered her watch over her as she rested and to observe her condition. Later on, the child went in for a check up. Despite not knowing her legal name or anything like that, I still made sure she was in good health. Names weren’t really all that important, anyway. But I remembered it was something weird…

“Pandatiger?” I snapped my fingers. That was probably right. Probably.

“No! Tigershark!” She roared.

“Oh, forgive me, Tigershark,” I tried to work up a smile, but I just wasn’t in the right environment. “Have you been keeping healthy?”

She grinned. Teeth whiter than any kid had the right to have.

“Yup!”

“Good,” I worked up something like a smile. I don’t know what effect it had, if any. I then made my way to the back, where I was sure the real victim, er, patient was.

Once past the door, I was greeted by another: a frantic young woman, not much taller than the child, with wavy, green hair, and who paced about the hallway. As soon as she noticed me, she looked both relieved and even more worried than before.

“Oh thank goodness. You’re here. Hurry. I’ll show you to her room,” she carried with her a seriousness, a glum expression on her face.

Was it that bad?

I followed her to the first room on the left. Sunny and Ray were noticeably absent. Maybe in their room, or in the kitchen. Their whereabouts weren’t of any importance, I suppose, but I was hoping to at least see one of them.

When I opened the door, I saw her huddled with many blankets and sitting against the corner of the wall, working up a sweat and her face red. She coughed a low, but continual cough. Then, our eyes met. Although her voice sounded about gone, she still tried to screech.

“You! Out of all the doctors, that’s the scariest! How could you, Demetria?” She wailed, and some of the syllables were missing, so I had to fill in the blanks. Of course, all of that just amused me. I let out a chuckle.

“We meet again, don’t we? First, it was because you wanted to save the life of that Tiger girl, then it was because you brought Ray to my hospital. Now the roles are reversed.”

Back when I saw her those other two times, she had red hair. Now it was black. Which suited her, I just wasn’t used to it. Something told me she could pull off just about any color, though black was likely the most natural.

“Sorry, she’s afraid of doctors,” the green-haired girl apologized. That I already knew.

“She has a good reason to be. What with all of those foreign objects going inside people while they’re often asleep, hopped up on anesthesia.”

“I want a different doctor!”

I slapped on some gloves, then let out another chuckle.

“Looks like you’re completely at my mercy,” I couldn’t help myself. Yes, it was awful.

“Can you please not antagonize her? She’s already got it rough as it is,” Greenie (there had to be some kind of nickname) scolded me.

“Of course. How insensitive of me,” I replied, with my usual dull voice of apathy. I wish it expressed how truly sorry I was.

I walked over to the one shivering, possibly out of fear.

“I’m not going to do anything you don’t want me to do,” I tried to be more comforting.

“I want you to go to hell,” my unruly patient rasped. Then she stuck out her tongue.

I looked over at Greenie.

“What is she doing?” I asked.

“Trying to push you away,” Greenie answered.

“Is she usually like this?”

“It depends.”

I see. Well, couldn’t say I wasn’t used to it. Patients with bad attitudes. It didn’t really matter what their attitudes were. They still needed help and they were still patients.

“I’ve been naughty, doc,” that black haired woman looked up and smiled a sly smile while her eyebrows were raised. She bobbed her head, as if she were to pass out at any moment. Speaking of moments, I allowed one to pass before I continued. She continued to stare up with what she probably thought was a suggestive expression.

“Okay, so anyway, I’m going to have to ask you a few questions. First off, do you smoke?”

Her eyebrows lowered and she turned her head to one side, but before she was able to shake it to signify “no”, she clutched her head and went, “ow.”

“Headaches, huh? Fever, chills, short breath –”

“The chills are nothing new,” she corrected me.

“I wasn’t done. Also, you’ve been coughing and your voice sounds like it’s run dry. Tell me, is it hard to talk?”

“That’s not the only hard thing about me,” she moaned. It wasn’t seductive at all. For added measure, she once again went, “ow,” at the end.

“I’ll take that as a yes. Although you’re still trying to do so anyway, which...don’t do that.”

“Usually she’s a terse talker,” Greenie informed me.

“I see,” I nodded. “I think I’m starting to form an idea of what it could be, but I’ll have to do a few more things to confirm.”

First, I set my briefcase on the floor and pulled out a stethoscope from it. I was going to listen to her lungs in order to see if there were any abnormalities in their sounds. Before I could press the end up to her, though, she groaned. Then snapped.

“Don’t put that cold, metal thing on me. It’s bad enough everything else is cold.”

“It’s just for a few seconds. Can you handle that?”

She growled. But I took it as a yes anyway. I pressed the end against her chest, where her lungs were located, and listened in.

“Don’t get too cocky and start feeling me up with that,” she groaned and swayed.

“My husband’s titties are better than yours,” I replied. That shut her right up.

Once I managed to focus, I heard it: little rumbling sounds. That seemed to confirm my suspicion, but it wasn’t enough. There were other things I had yet to know.

“We can either do a blood test next or an X-Ray. Which would you prefer?”

“No needles.”

“OK. X-Ray it is.”

“Does that mean no more Ray?” She asked, and I assumed she must have been trying to crack a joke.

“Reply hazy. Try again.”

Also from my briefcase was a pocket X-Ray. I pulled it out.

“By the way, can I get your name? If you’re having trouble talking, don’t worry about it,” I tried to make conversation.

“Rhea,” she stated, though in a wheeze.

“You don’t have to lie to her, Remora!” Greenie jumped in.

“I know. That’s why I’m not,” Rhea, or Remora replied.

“Are you by any chance related to Danny DeVito?” I asked, offhand, as I thought about how she shared the same name as Danny DeVito’s wife. I was kind of jealous, actually.

“What?” Greenie spat. Not literally, else I would be mad, but, y’know.

“Oh, you know. Just one of the greatest actors of all time. If not the greatest. Everyone always says that Matilda was the best part of Matilda, but Danny DeVito made that movie what it is. He makes everything he stars in good just by virtue of being in it.”

“Uhh…” Both of them uttered.

“Anyway,” I held the pocket X-Ray up to Rhea, or Remora’s chest. How a pocket X-Ray worked was beyond me. I was a doctor, not an engineer.

As I glanced down at those chest bones, I saw where her lungs were and noticed some substances built up. I nodded, then closed up the pocket X-Ray and put it back into the briefcase.

“Tell me, when did you first notice these symptoms?” I inquired.

“About a week ago. Couple days before Demetria’s birthday,” she answered. Good. So she could behave when she wanted to.

“Who’s Demetria?” I put my hand up to chin and shook my head. More questions arose than answers. Not good.

“It me!” Greenie, once again jumped in. Or Demetria, I guess.

“Oh. Here I’ve been calling you Greenie in my head this whole time,” I remarked.

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I can do whatever I want in my head,” I stated with conviction.

“Never mind that, what do you mean, a couple days before my birthday?!” Demetria (sigh, I really liked Greenie more) gasped.

“It was while I was out to earn money. I felt a little bit off. I ignored it and figured it would go away on its own,” Remora/Rhea explained.

“Tsk. Just like Ray with his infection. Why do you guys neglect your bodies?”

“What does it matter to you?” Remora/Rhea retorted.

“Because human lives are precious,” I replied without hesitation.

“Do you really believe that?”

“I have to. Otherwise this world would be far more bleak.”

“I wish I believed that as well.”

“What about the needle? The poison?” Demetria pressed the issue. That was also concerning. None of that got mentioned before.

“It only affected you,” Remora muttered.

“Even so, I think I should run some tests on you as well,” I turned to Demetria.

“That’s not necessary! It just made me pass out! Besides, it was just skin contact, it didn’t puncture me.”

“Still, if you were to pass it to her through contact, that could mean that she was affected by it as well.”

Demetria looked down, hands balled into fists.

“I didn’t consider that...I’m sorry…”

“Anyway, she’ll probably live. Probably,” I tried to reassure Demetria. Maybe Remora/Rhea too. Since I couldn’t guarantee anything.

“Probably?!” Demetria sounded about ready to snap.

“Yes. She has pneumonia. It can potentially be fatal, but in her case, it seems pretty mild. There’s some bacterial build up in her lungs, so I’ll prescribe some antibiotics. Make sure she gets plenty of rest and water. It may take up to a month before she recovers, and even then she might be a little out of it.”

It seemed like my work was done. Nothing more to say, then.

“Before you go, can you check one more thing for me?” Demetria asked.

“What?”

“She’s got this condition where she always feels like she’s cold,” Demetria began to explain.

“Huh. Has she thought about moving someplace warmer?”

“No. That’s not it. She’ll crank the heater way up and while everyone else is burning to death, she’ll still be cold. Even in warmer climates, she’ll still be shivering. It gets worse in social situations, but it’s there all the time. I was wondering if you could identify the cause of it, if nothing else.”

“Hmm…” I pondered. It didn’t take long, however, for me to come up with an answer. “It could be a number of things. However, it’s not something I could check out very well right now, as one of the side effects of pneumonia is that it gives people those shivery feelings. Maybe when she’s better, I could check for various things, if she let me.”

“Would you, Remora?” Demetria asked. Her...something (since I guess wasn’t a friend. While I said earlier that such titles weren’t important, I now found it hard what to use to describe their relationship) groaned but didn’t quite answer. Maybe it was getting to be even more painful to speak.

“It could also be psychological,” I pointed out. “If so, I know a pretty good therapist. I can give you his business card, if you’d like.”

“Am I some kind of joke to you?” Remora’s weary voice returned to retort. “I’m a paragon of mental health.”

“There’s no shame in seeking therapy,” I pointed out to her. Maybe she was of the belief that such things were beneath her. “I’ve seen one a few times.” I could probably use seeing one again.

“Yes, I agree. But I don’t need one. Watch this,” she stared at me, and I stared back, waiting for something to happen. Then she fell back to her side and went to sleep.

“Well then, I suppose that about covers it,” I left the room and Demetria followed behind. I was about halfway down the hall when she ran after me.

“What about the antibiotics?” She stopped and asked in a huff.

“I’m going to get some from my truck right now. Also, if you have any pain relieving medication, I would advise she take that for her headaches, as well. I would also suggest you be present in the room with her when she takes her pills. Something tells me she won’t take them otherwise.”

“I’ll try to remember all that.”

“Oh, and if her other condition is psychological, then there may not be a ‘cure’ and she will instead need to find a way to manage it. I wouldn’t want to give her false hope, either, so rest assured of that.”

“Thank you again,” her voice grew quiet.

I shrugged. “Just try to get her to the hospital next time.”

After that was all settled and I gave Demetria the pills, I headed home. It felt nice to help someone outside of the hospital, even if it still meant I had to leave home to take care of someone else. For a little bit, it even seemed like I felt something, though it seemed to come in dribs and drabs and I couldn’t pinpoint which moments those were. With any luck, I could still spend some time with Cole, if he didn’t leave for work, himself. Or if I wasn’t needed back at the hospital. Like I said, with any luck.

#remoras full #writing #stories #chapter #fiction #doctor #coleslaw #cw: needles #medical stuff #pneumonia #danny devito

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crushedbyhyperbole · 4 years

Text

Some Like it Saucy (TFV)

Summary: Cooped up in the compound while the team conference with Secretary ‘Toss-pot’ Ross, you decide to cook and decorate. What better way to fill the team’s hearts and bellies than a Marrakech-themed evening with Bucky’s favourite food - Moroccan tagine.

Words: 1.6k

A/N: Written for @buckybarnesbeans leap year challenge filling the dialog prompt: “Which one of you Bollocks thinks my chicken is dry? You? You?” (In bold). It’s a Bucky x Reader originally written as an adult reader, but this is the teen-friendly version. Thank you @sassy-pelican for giving the original a read to check for mess-ups

Warnings: Bad language and British slang. Fluff. Light on reader insecurities towards the end.

The living areas of the compound were quiet and hollow; the whole team was gone and you were left alone. It felt eerie. Like the rest of the world had vanished and you were the sole inhabitant of a world once teeming with life. You shivered at the thought of such endless solitude.

There were remnants of their existence, of course. The alluring yet comforting smell of Bucky’s soap in your bathroom this morning, a half-drank mug of coffee on the common room table, a messily folded newspaper with a half-completed crossword puzzle, and an open packet of Tony’s favourite trail mix hidden in the magazine rack. It wasn’t like they had been snapped out of existence or anything, they were all at a conference with Secretary Ross.

Dickhead, you thought.

Ever since that mission in London where you picked up some amusing English insults that you later took pleasure in using on Secretary Ross, your absence at debriefings and conferences involving him had been, let’s say, strongly advised. Needless to say, Secretary Ross didn’t appreciate you calling him a wanker and telling him that he talked a load of bollocks.

It had been a fun mission though. The team had been brought in to help MI5 foil a plot to steal the crown jewels and reunite the nine pieces of the famous Cullinan diamond, which occult conspiracy theorists say was a stone of great power. Cullinan I, in particular, was an exquisite stone. Housed in the majestic sceptre with the cross, it had piqued your interest purely for its unusual refractive index; there was something about that stone, you could feel it with your powers as you pushed your influence through the security case to interact with the stone.

Goosebumps broke out across your skin and you shook yourself free of the memory. The eeriness of the compound seemed to have increased since invoking the feeling of the power of the stone but you cast it aside as best you could, latching on to the annoyance you felt that Secretary Ross was robbing you of a lazy morning with Bucky. Tosser!

Boredom made your bones itch. You needed to do something other than going back to your room to vegetate until everyone came back, so you decided to cook dinner. Moroccan chicken tagine. It was one of Bucky’s favourite meals, and since everyone was suffering the presence of Secretary Tosser, you figured they deserved a reward.

Delicious smells of savoury meat, fragrant spices and sweet apricots filled the kitchen as the team emerged from the elevator. You were finishing up by adding a handful of chopped coriander leaves to the tagine, humming a tune while you worked, when strong arms snaked around your waist and a beardy kiss pressed against your temple. You’d know the feel and smell of Bucky anywhere.

“Hey, baby!” You smiled. “How is Secretary Tosser?”

“You didn’t miss anything good.” He chuckled in your ear, kissing your neck softly. You adored that you were both still very much in love after years of being together. “He finally fired that P.A. who wrote that you called him a wanker into the meeting transcript that time.”

“No!” You gasped. That woman was a legend in her own right. “That’s fucking terrible -oooo! I hate that man!”

“Relax, Rainbow Brite,” Tony appeared beside you, “I hired her this afternoon so she’ll take notes for all of our meetings with Ross when he’s here.” He beamed, lifting the lid of your tagine and groaning with pleasure as the steam rose. “That smells amazing.”

“Thanks boss.” You grinned, feeling the fuzzy warmth of his praise and the dark satisfaction that Ross wouldn’t be able to bully that poor P.A. anymore.

“You made this? Should I be worried?” Tony feigned horror. “Barnes is still alive so your cooking can’t be all that bad-oof!” He grunted as you flapped the back of your hand into his gut, hard.

“Stark!” You growled in warning.

“Okayyy, good talk.” He bolted with a cheeky grimace.

Bucky held you tight to his chest so you couldn’t give chase and assault Tony with your wooden spoon. “Easy, tiger.” He soothed, knowing just how to calm your fiery temper.

The team came together for dinner and you all sat on floor cushions around a low table to eat. You had enlisted the help of Vision to create your Marrakech themed night and you had both outdone yourselves. Cannibalising one of the conference rooms had been a stroke of genius and, in your opinion, it was a far better use for the room than boring meetings. The dim glow of the ornate iron lanterns and the holographic fire courtesy of FRIDAY, the makeshift marquee made from brightly coloured fabrics, the smell from the food you’d made, and the soft but authentic music made you feel like you’d stepped through a portal into a souk lounge in the heart of Morocco.

“Next time, let’s not invite the others.” Bucky murmured in your ear after you had all settled and began to eat. “It’ll be just you and me,” he whispered, “with a movie, great food, comfy cushions, and cuddles.”

“Sounds like the recipe for a perfect night.” You sighed, body relaxing at the thought of unwinding with him and a movie, but what movie? You loved a high-octane action adventure film, or an epic Sci-Fi, but you also loved a good rom-com too. As your brain filtered through all the films you had on your Netflix list, you zoned out, running on auto-pilot.

“Pardon me, Y/n?” The words feel foreign; soft but still plenty sharp to snap you back to reality.

You’d eaten with the team, smiled at them when they’d thanked you for making a wonderful dinner, and had been clearing away dishes in a complete daze. Across the kitchen, Bucky smirked at you from where he was piling plates into the dishwasher. That little shit knew exactly what he’d done.

“Miss y/n?” Vision looked concerned as he laid a hand gently on your shoulder. “Is everything alright?”

“I’m good.” You mentally shook yourself, making a mental note to torment Bucky later, maybe make him watch that terrible mermaid show you found. “I’m aaaalll good.”

Vision nodded curtly, pausing a moment before he addressed the reason he’d approached you in the first place.

“I’ve taken the liberty of suggesting an amendment for your tagine recipe, to increase the sauce to meat ratio while leaving the delicate balance of flavours intact.”

“Why? What’s wrong with my recipe?”

“Nothing is wrong.” He smiled warmly. “A comment was made that more sauce would have been welcome.”

“More sauce, huh?” You slid your tray of crockery onto the nearest counter and picked up a tray of baked spiced orange pastries and mint sugared pineapple pieces. “I’ll take it under advisement.”

When you delivered dessert and settled on your cushion next to Bucky, he squeezed your thigh reassuringly as the chatter quietened while the team tucked into the delicious moist pastries. He was about to tell you he was proud of you for not allowing your irritation to flare but he didn’t get the chance. He knew you were insecure, underneath the foul mouth and the bravado was a girl who needed reassurance that she was more than just good enough.

“So…” You cocked your head as the eyes of the whole team fell on you. “Which one of you bollocks thinks my chicken is dry?” You pointed your spoon around the table starting at Sam. “You?” He was always the first to talk shit, even if it was just a joke. “You?” Natasha fell under your gaze.

“No one said it was dry, sweetie.” She smiled kindly, seeing your outburst for what it was – you really needed to know you’d done a good job. You’d felt useless being stuck at the compound while the rest of the team had meet and greets with officials. No matter how boring they really were, you felt left out. You’d had Vision for company but he didn’t share your feelings. “I just said I’d kill for more of that awesome sauce and Vision, being the pragmatic type, figured he’d save lives and help you update the recipe.”

You huffed a little but relaxed as Bucky laid his arm across your shoulder. “You know she likes things a bit saucy, babe.” He winked at you.

“Don’t give me that… you big winker!” You chuckled and elbowed him in the ribs playfully. “Earlier you said something about movies and cuddles, and I expect you to deliver.”

Bucky was up on his feet immediately, pulling you up and slinging you over his shoulder while you squealed in protest. “If you’ll excuse us,” he addressed the room, “we have a recipe to discuss.”

“Sounds like a recipe for disaster.” Sam scoffed around a mouthful of pineapple.

“Don’t tempt fate.” Nat scolded.

Bucky snagged a couple of colourful cushions and whacked you with them as he carried you giggling from conference room Marrakech. He was a man of his word and you could expect nothing but relaxation and adoration. And, as the door of your room closed firmly, you found that you didn’t much mind spending the day apart because he was there now, and always would be.

#raesleapyearchallenge #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fluff #my writing #cloudy's writing

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padfootagain · 5 years

Text

The Suit

Here we go with a new cute little thing!! It is the last one-shot for my celebration, for the next two days, I will be updating two series you have voted for. I do hope I have managed throughout these 5 fics to bring a little bit of fluff and softness into your week. In case I had not succeeded so far, maybe this one will do the trick ;)

I have 0 respect for Canon in many fandoms (okay, all fandoms, to some extent) but especially when it comes to the MCU. Everybody lives, everybody is happy, the Avengers live together and the sky is full of rainbows! So… cute things ahead for Steve Rogers :)

I hope you like this, tell me what you thought about it!

Gif not mine (enjoy the eyelashes… argh, why is he like this?)

Word Count : 3941

When people picture the interior of the Avengers headquarters, they imagine some kind of large hangar filled with training rooms. Advanced weaponry on display in some of these rooms too, target practice, and large spaces where the Avengers can train and learn new fighting moves. Some might also imagine the Avengers' personal quarters, a kitchen, a large living room where all can gather and eat some Chinese food, maybe a room where they all can watch a good movie together too, a large bedroom for each of them and offices too were they can work on the intel sent to them.

And to this entire description, although one would gather a vague image instead of a real glimpse at the inside of the most secret building in the world (or at least one of the most secret buildings, for sure, although we must all admit that many labs in Wakanda are even more wrapped in shadows), this person listing the inside of this fortress would be right. At one major detail… or well, three, actually.

This enlightened person would have forgotten the library, for one, large and composed of an eclectic collection of novels, thesis about nuclear physics and comic books, was right between the movie room as the Avengers called it, and the offices.

Also, there is a miniature hospital in the base of the Avengers. They call it the infirmary, but it contains everything needed to heal any kind of wound they could sustain on the battle-field, and some of the most recent pieces of equipment would make even Dr Strange blush out of envy.

But the most important set of rooms that one would have forgotten are the labs. Scattered throughout the buildings, and yet vital for the heroes. Who makes the suits? The weapons? Who collects the intel? Who improves their defensive accessories? Who analyses the clues the Avengers find throughout their missions?

Obviously, the busy team of researchers and engineers working at the base.

And while you could hear the characteristic detonations of Natasha, Bucky, Sam and Clint training at firing, you were yourself stuck with a very hard problem to solve.

On your desk, what was left of Captain America's suit laid splayed so you could examine the damages the explosion had caused. He was okay, thanks to luck, his super-soldier organism and a little bit of patching up. A week after he was back from his mission, he was apparently completely healed already.

His suit, however, was still just as damaged as it was at its return from the field.

You heaved a sigh, rubbing your tired eyes. If one had told you, back at University, that your PhD in chemistry would be put to use to help a bunch of super-heroes, you would have laughed at their faces. And yet…

You heard a knock on the door of your office, but you didn't need to look up to know it was Peter Parker. You had recognized the knock already.

"Hi, Dr. Y/L/N!" He beams at you as he steps into your office and closes the door behind him.

You rolled your eyes at the teenager.

"How many times do I have to tell you? You can call me Y/N. I’m not that old! Besides, everyone does."

"Captain Rogers doesn’t."

"Yeah, but that’s because he’s old fashioned on a few things."

Peter grinned.

"You know, Natasha has another theory, and it’s a very different one."

"And what could that theory be?"

"Better let her explain it to you," he eluded the question. "What’s that?" he added, nodding at the pile of burnt and torn fabric on your desk that really didn’t look much like a uniform anymore.

"It’s Captain Rogers’s suit. I’m supposed to make an improved one for him."

"Cool! Your suits are always comfortable and efficient. Do you have any ideas yet?"

"None whatsoever."

"I guess he won’t need a new suit before the party. I hope nothing calls for it, at least. So you have a couple of weeks."

"What party?"

"There’s a big party in a couple of weeks. Everyone working here will be invited, I guess Pepper simply hasn’t sent the invitations yet. You’re gonna come, right? That would be awesome!"

"Well… if we’re all invited, then I guess…"

"Nice!"

You exchanged a smile. Something told Peter, and not his Peter tingles, another sense, a sense that was growing sharper and sharper ever since he and MJ were together, that Steve Rogers would be happy to learn that you would attend the party…

"But I doubt that you were coming here to talk about suits and parties, now, were you?"

His smile was back on his face.

"I have a new idea for my web fluid. But I need your expertise. Can you help?"

You let out a chuckle as you stood up and walked towards the door with a pen and your notebook.

"Of course. Come on, tell me all about it."

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

After a few sleepless nights for you and your team, the new suit was finally ready. The tests showed a major improvement in terms of heat responses, you hoped it would protect Captain Rogers efficiently for his next mission.

The advantage of being the head of a scientific team in the Avengers HQ was that you could go to their part of the buildings and give them their new suits, weapons and other gadgets yourself. You had grown quite fond of most of the team along the years too, which made the trip out of your lab particularly enjoyable.

You wandered off from room to room, passing before the fighters training in various methods of combat. You also came across Tony and Peter watching Morgan’s favourite Disney movie with her, and you asked them about the Captain's whereabouts.

"I think he went to the gym with Sam and Bucky," Peter answered, his voice distorted by the handful of popcorn he had shoved in his mouth.

"Because obviously gym is useful to him," Tony added in his usual teasing and yet casual tone over the loud music of Be A Man. "I’ve always thought he was short in muscles."

Meanwhile, Morgan was shouting the lyrics and was now standing on the sofa, mimicking the fighting moves of Mulan.

"BE A MAN!"

"What are you looking for him for, anyway?" Tony went on over the loud singing of his daughter. "You need a coach for the gym?"

You laughed in response.

"No, we’ve finished a new suit for him, so I’m bringing it to him."

"YOU MUST BE SWIFT AS A COURSING RIVER!"

"You guys even do the delivery part for free? Amazon might have reasons to worry."

Peter had now joined the little girl for the rest of the chorus, and he and Morgan were both singing at the top of their lungs.

"WITH ALL THE FORCE OF A GREAT TYPHOON!!"

"Well as I said, he’s at the gym," Tony went on, still focusing on you instead of the two kids by his side. "Lifting heavy things and stuff. He’ll be happy to see you."

"What do you mean?" you asked back with a frown.

"WITH ALL THE STRENGTH OF A RAGING FIRE."

Tony merely chuckled and gave you a knowing look. Although you didn’t know what the knowing in the look was about, you oblivious little thing…

"He’s always happy to see you, Y/N."

"MYSTERIOUS AS THE DARK SIDE OF THE MOOOOOOON!!!"

Tony’s gaze finally drifted back towards the two kids on the sofa, a tender smile soothing his features.

"I think she has a chance to become a superstar," he told you, pointing at Morgan. "That’s pure talent we have here. It’s not the same for the other guy over there of course, but everyone can’t be gifted."

"Hey! I don’t sing that badly!" Peter protested from his end of the couch, making both you and Tony laugh.

You thanked Tony for his help, and he waved at you in response, along with giving you a wink that seemed to carry a silent message, but you failed to understand it. Instead, you continued your journey through the HQ (but not without Morgan giving you some popcorn in support for your noble quest first, of course), and walked to the gym with a light trot and humming the tune of Mulan’s songs.

Indeed, you found Steve right where Tony had told you he would be. At the gym. Sam and Bucky were there too, but the three friends seemed on their way out. Sam and Bucky were talking (or well, bickering was a better word to describe any of their interactions, really) near the door while Steve was picking up his stuff…

… and for some reason he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Or a T-shirt. Or any piece of fabric whatsoever that would cover his torso, the skin glistening slightly with a thin layer of sweat.

No matter how uncomfortable you felt, you couldn’t help but stare.

The three of them turned to you as the door loudly closed behind you, and you all remained motionless for a moment. And for a short moment, time seemed to stop as the four of you each reacted differently to the scene unfolding around you.

You were standing, frozen, in front of the door, your package still safely in your arms as your lips parted without you noticing, and you wondered about the ratio between his biceps and your thighs…

Bucky and Sam were motionless as well, simply because they were trying not to laugh as they watched the silent scene playing between you and Steve.

Steve was still, stopped mid-movement, holding his towel in one hand and a bag in the other. And his mind was currently wondering how it would feel to touch your cheek…

He was the first to shake himself out of his thoughts, and you were rather grateful for it, as you reckoned that you wouldn’t have been able to break free on your own.

“Dr. Y/L/N. What can we do for you?”

You forced your brain to work again and your stare to leave his torso to rest on his intense blue eyes instead. How could he have such long eyelashes?

"Actually, I… hmm… I’m the one who can do something for you. I’ve finished your suit," you added, handing him the suit although you were unable to cross the room to give him the package. You didn’t trust your legs enough, they felt like they were made of soft cotton instead of bones and muscles.

"Oh, thank you," he gave you a bright smile, throwing his towel on his large shoulder and striding to you.

You reckoned that it was rather rare to see a genuine, bright smile on his features. Little smiles, yes. But large ones? Not so much. You guessed that he was very happy to get a new suit. Or perhaps the source for such happiness blooming in him was the person who brought the suit… but you didn't know that, by then.

He took the suit wrapped in kraft paper, his smile still on his lips. You noticed how flushed he was, you guessed it was because of the gym session he had just finished. You couldn’t know that your assumption was only partly true. There was another reason for him to blush up to the tip of his ears. That reason was standing right before him.

"Are you coming tomorrow night? At the big party?" he softly asked.

"Yes, I am. All the lab was invited, and most of us are coming."

"Have you found your plus one yet?" Sam jumped in the conversation.

"Oh, no. I’m coming alone. I mean, it’s not like I need support, I’m going to see my friends there so… no need to pretend."

Sam gave Steve a pointy look. Which his friend ignored.

"Are you bringing someone?" you inquired in a friendly tone.

"Yeah. Yeah, I do. He doesn’t though," he added, nodding towards Steve.

You turned to Steve again. He tightened his grip on the suit, and shrugged, a shy smile on his lips.

"As you said, no need to pretend tomorrow."

You stared at each other for a couple of seconds, that seemed to stretch into minutes. And the more you looked at him, the more you wanted to tell him how you felt, how you hoped to see him the next evening, how wonderful you thought he was and… Gosh, he had gorgeous eyes…

But you couldn't do that.

"Well, I’ll see you all tomorrow then. Have a nice day," you hurried the words out of your mouth so you could stride out of the room before your reason would yield in favour of your heart, and you would spoil everything.

The second the door had closed behind you, Sam was chuckling.

"You know, it ain't that hard to ask her out. You had the perfect opportunity. You just had to ask ‘Y/N, would you like to come with me to the party tomorrow’."

"Sam…" Steve heaved a heavy sigh.

"He’s too romantic for that. He’ll make a move tomorrow night. In the moonlight and all," Bucky mocked, making Steve roll his eyes.

"I hate both of you."

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

The large room was filled with a crowd. Low lights kept an intimate atmosphere throughout the floor. At the top of the Stark Tower, the view on New York City was stunning, an intricated labyrinth of shining lights matching the paler ones hung on the sky. You felt a little tipsy after drinking a couple of tequila shots with Natasha and Wanda. You reckoned that you needed some air, and stepped outside the busy room decorated with perfect taste. The music was still loud coming through the windowpanes as you walked on the large balcony. You hadn't seen Steve yet, but reckoned it was for the best. People had dressed up for the occasion, and you did not plan on dying of a heart attack because of the sight of him in a tuxedo.

The fresh air cleared your thoughts a little and you took a deep intake of breath. You leaned against the bannister, shivering a little as the breeze brushed your naked arms. You took in the view, the sparkling lights shimmering against the darkness of the night, the busy streets and wandering forms drifting back and forth into the maze spreading below your feet.

"Hey! Y/N! Bring your arse back inside, Thor and Nat are trying to see who holds their liquor best!" you heard one of your colleagues call for you, but you shook your head with a chuckle.

"We all know Nat will win."

"I wouldn't be so sure."

You spun on your heels as you recognized Steve's voice. He was standing there, a few steps away from you, his silhouette wrapped in the lights coming out of the busy room giving him a surreal halo, a hand in the pocket of his trousers and a shy smile on his perfectly shaven face. And yes, he was wearing a classic tuxedo. And God, did the man know how to wear a bowtie…

"After all, he is an alien," he went on.

Your colleague had disappeared, you guessed she had judged wiser to leave the two of you alone on the balcony.

How could there be only the two of you out there anyway? Where were people gone to?

"Yes, but she knows too many tricks to lose this kind of bet," you argue.

He let out a chuckle, his eyes flickering to the tip of his black shoes and back up to your gaze, capturing it for good.

"I guess you're right. It's always unwise to underestimate her."

"Exactly."

"Aren't you cold out here?"

"No, I… I needed a little bit of fresh air."

"These parties can be a little too intense," he nodded.

"So can be the tequila."

You both laughed, and fell in a comfortable silence. Steve was too busy staring at you to think of anything else, let alone about words to say.

He hadn't felt that way in what seemed to be an eternity. The nervous tremor through his body, the stumbling of his heart, the freezing of his thoughts… he knew the symptoms and had no doubt about the disease causing them.

Love was an easy thing to spot when it was true, after all.

But if his feelings for you were clear to him, he didn't know about your feelings for him, that was a completely different story. Everyone kept on telling him that you liked him, and he reckoned that he should trust his friends' judgment. The doubt was still there though, a little frozen cube buried in the depth of his heart that burnt through now and then. And it was burning now.

Because as he stared at you, such an accomplished, clever, independent, strong, fierce, graceful woman, he wondered if you could really feel the same way he did.

He had been feeling this way for you for so long though… years, really. And he reckoned now that it was more than time to speak his mind. In the worst case, he would get his heart broken. But in the best case…

"Are you enjoying your evening so far? Would you like something to drink?"

You gave him an amused smile. He seemed nervous…

… maybe your friends were right about him after all.

"I am enjoying my evening so far," you answered. "And no, thank you. I already feel tipsy enough for tonight."

He walked to join you against the bannister, a dreamy smile on both of your faces.

Inside, the music had changed from some energetic pop to a slower and intimate tune. It seemed that time had slowed around the two of you as well, as you stared at each other, your frames lightened by the light inside the tower but also by the stars above and the streets below. Steve's blue eyes reflected the distant lights in an almost impossible way that lit your heart on fire.

There were a thousand things that he wanted to tell you. He wanted to tell you how he thought about you first thing in the morning and last as he closed his eyes to fall asleep. How you made him feel like he belonged in this world that wasn't his. You were amongst the few people who did not see the old soldier in him, but the man behind the shield. You had never made a snarky remark about his lack of knowledge to a reference, and he was grateful for it. You loved sharing the things you loved and that's what drove you when you showed him things he had missed during his time in the ice. It wasn't in a will to change him and make him fit better into a world he had been pushed into, it was in a desire to show him something you were passionate about, simply because you liked talking about it. It wasn't about changing him, it was about sharing. And the majority of people he had met since he had been awakened did not share that state of mind, but the opposite.

He longed to tell you how much he loved hearing you laugh, and thought you had the most adorable smile, and how he admired your smart mind, and how he respected you and your opinion about everyone else's…

There were a million words to be spoken and a thousand thoughts to articulate, but all that passed his lips when he finally mustered the strength to talk was a mere invitation, although it still sounded like a declaration.

"Would you like to dance, Y/N?"

Your heart skipped a beat or two as he called you by your first name, and dear God, did your name sounded wonderful rolling on his tongue. His hand rose as he offered you his open palm, fingers trembling slightly, blue eyes drenched in reflected lights still capturing your gaze and your entire life too. You were vaguely aware of people inside, and maybe some were staring at the two of you, but you couldn't find a way to care, nor even to check if your assumption was correct. Instead, you could not look away from Steve.

There were so many words you meant to speak and thoughts to express and confessions to free from the safety of your heart. How you adored how kind he was, and selfless. How you respected how driven he was and always right to his beliefs. And an infinity of other tiny things that had made you slowly and yet irrevocably fall in love with him.

Instead, you smiled up at him, and spoke only an answer, that still sounded like a promise.

"I would love to."

You thought he would bring you back inside, but he didn't. Instead, he wrapped an arm around you, pulling you closer in a soft gesture. You slipped your hand in his and he gave your fingers a tender squeeze.

You started to sway with the gentle tune, but could barely acknowledge the movements of your feet. You were so close to him, he was so close to you… how could you survive this?

Calloused fingers held yours in a gentle hold, his other hand resting in the small of your back, drawing you closer and closer in an embrace that grew tighter every second and yet of which you knew you could free yourself of if you wanted. It felt safe. Warm. Peaceful. And safe, yes, so safe, so comfortable, you could lay your life in his hands blindly and wouldn't even worry about it. You couldn't remember when was the last time you felt like this, like this man before you could never make anything to hurt you, like not in a million years would he let anything bad happen to you. It felt like a lifetime ago that you trusted a man so thoroughly as you trusted Steve now.

There was warmth spreading from your body to his, reassuring, soothing. A calming glow oozing from your soul conquering his last lines of defence. He couldn't fight against you. He loved you too much for it. All he could do before you was to lay down his arms and offer you his heart on a plate. It was dangerous, and yet he was not afraid. He trusted you too blindly to worry about what you could do with his most precious offering. You would do with it what you pleased. He would accept it all no matter what. It could either bring him back to life or break him for good, but in any case, he would not regret giving you his heart. He knew so much, at least.

He leaned down, your bodies too close to be moved closer to each other by then, resting his jaw against your temple. He remained quiet and so did you, although your two pounding hearts spoke better than your tongues at this moment.

There were no words needing to be spoken, you both knew that this feeling coursing through your bodies now was the feeling of coming home.

Inside the busy crowd, Sam was finishing his third glass of bourbon, while Bucky drank the last drop of his third beer. They exchanged a glance, and Bucky extended his hand. Sam could only chuckle before reaching for his wallet and slipping a twenty dollar bill in Bucky's hand. He had lost his wager, but learnt an important lesson.

One should never underestimate the sense of romance of Captain America, especially if he is wearing that kind of suit.

*****************************************************************

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knightthunderis · 3 years

Text

Ch 9 Explanations and Revelations

“Only one from there would know everything there is to know about all the other players in the game.” the duke admonished. “I would almost say for sure that your knowledge of us is equally thorough.”

“I also correlated and memorized the history of every house family from the first lock up to present day.” Reimeiko said. “Shall I give you the rundown of every house from the beginning to the present day?”

“Heavens no, that would take centuries for the long haul as you say.” Byron breathed. “And that would build up quite the appetite. Which reminds me, now that you are here as our guest, the royal kitchens can make you anything your heart desires. Go on ask for anything.”

“Anything huh?’ Reimeiko asked. “How about the biggest ice cream sundae I have ever seen with three spoons and I will share it with the two of you?”

“The finest chefs in the world and you choose an ice cream sundae of all things?” Byron sneered. After a few minutes they receive an ice cream sundae as big as Reimeiko’s head and three spoons. “Alright, I stand corrected, this is actually very good.”

“That is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” Malachi said. After the dining room, the brothers showed Reimeiko the sights, starting with the lofty rooms that proudly displayed the Alliance history. “And here in the historic east wing, we have the national Taborian gallery.”

“In the days past, this was the throne room, the center of power where reigning monarchs would hold court. But once the new throne room was built, this became a gallery devoted to the important relics like the Taborian crown jewels. Those are over here.” They led her to a display case where an orb and the Taborian scepter sit glistening on pillows.

“It is very orblike.” Reimeiko replied. “The golden scepter. Is everything themed?”

“Oh yes, pretty much.” Byron said. “They are the symbols of the crown. Every king and queen has held these during their coronation.”

“You know, if everything goes according to plan and you marry Prince Karyson, you might one day hold them yourself.” Malachi added.

“I know that you want to tell them that Reimeiko is already married to Karyson.” Tristan said. “But you need to wait until I can reconnect him to me and Knight Wolf.”

“I like your confidence.” Malachi said. “And here is the palace pool and deck. Floating the days away has never been so attainable. It is like we are at a fancy hotel.”

“If by fancy hotel you mean an enduring symbol of the strength and dignity of the Taborian government.” Byron snapped.

“This is not the Thaddea I know and remember.” Reimeiko thought. “I just do not understand what happened to invoke all of these crazy changes?”

“The parents are still working on that.” Tristan said. “We need to find out who is ruling Thaddea in Dad’s place so we can fix the main situation.”

“Why is a bathroom part of the tour?” Reimeiko asked. “Do not get me wrong, it looks perfect for bubble baths. Why is this particular bathtub and bathroom on the tour?”

“This is the biggest bathtub in the entire palace.” Malachi said. “It is perfect both in shape and height to achieve the optimal ratio of water to bubble levels. I will share my formula with you later.”

“Please tell me when you say that this is the biggest tub in the entire palace,” Byron asked, “that you have not actually tried every tub in the royal palace? No wait, do not answer that. I would like to maintain some level of plausible deniability on this.”

Malachi chuckled as he and Byron led Reimeiko to the last room of the royal tour, the royal throne and hall of portraits room.

“The royal throne room looks like it was totally made for me and the future.” Reimeiko replied. “I will gain him and everything about him for the sake of the future.”

“As it should be.” Byron said. “This is where the King and Queen sit to meet with foreign dignitaries and their people. In the old days, it used to be that people and nobility alike had to pay their respect by kneeling and touching the hem of the king or queen. But ever since a successful assassination on a queen several hundred years ago, that was outlawed. In fact, you must never touch the king or queen physically without their permission. Now, if you will follow me this way.”

Byron walked away from the thrones to the hall of portraits on the far end, but Reimeiko and Malachi hung back to really look at the thrones.

“I have always wondered if those thrones were comfortable.” Malachi asked her. “I wonder if they are as comfortable as they look from here at this vantage point.”

“As tempting as trying them on for size is.” Reimeiko replied. “Maybe we should respectfully look at them from a distance although, I know it is only what you have been doing your whole life. Shall we catch up to Byron before he realizes that we are not listening?”

Without thinking twice, Reimeiko and Malachi hurry to catch up to Byron before he could turn around and find they were not with him.

“And this portrait of King Keitaro was bequeathed to him by the Count of Evedia as a gift.” Byron said.

“Wow, King Keitaro was extremely handsome.” Reimeiko replied, “He also has a very commanding air about him and is very hypnotic. Karyson, Racine, Koridon and Garyson’s great great grandfather on their mother Seidre’s side of the family was quite the fierce protector and defender as well.” As Malachi skipped off to scout ahead, the grandeur of everything that had been seen hit Reimeiko hard but she had to act like she really did not know anything about her Karyson and Garyson’s royal home. “Wow, Karyson was not kidding when he said he was crown prince of Thaddea, was he?”

“I would much prefer it if you did not use his first name so much in public.” Byron said. “There is royal protocol to follow you realize after all. But I am curious, what exactly are you doing here in Taboria?”

“Well Your Grace, have you not ever been in love?” Reimeiko asked. Byron dumbfounded and blushing caught her attention. “I knew it! Alright wiseguy, who is the lucky lady in your life?”

“There is no one. I do not have time for such diversions.” Byron said. “It is you we are talking about. Why are you here trying to win the hand of Prince Garyson Walters?”

Reimeiko knew that she had to be careful how she answered for the sake of not blowing her cover, but also to make sure that she did not reveal herself too soon like Daryien said although Byron and Malachi already knew who she was and where she came from.

“Byron, believe it or not, fate led me here.” Reimeiko replied. “I am not sure why fate put Garyson in my path and brought me to you, but Karyson is special. I knew it from the moment we met and I did not even know that Garyson was a prince then unlike Karyson who is from Thaddea. And now I have this incredible chance to reconnect with him thanks to you and Malachi. Should I not follow through and see what happens next? Do you think it is too sentimental?”

“No, Your Highness, I think I see it now.” Byron acknowledged. “You have a certain something about you, maybe a charm, I am not sure, but I sense something very familiar about you like you have been here before. Perhaps you do have a slim sliver of a chance after all.”

“I knew there was something I did not like about him.” Tristan growled through the earpiece. “Byron Blanchard was not always a stuck up blowhard like he is now. Back in the days before old man Blanchard deserted and abandoned them, Byron used to be cool. Nowadays, he is just as stuck up as his old man. I wonder if there is more that happened to make him such a stiff.”

Reimeiko chuckled at Tristan’s rogue assessment. “Do not celebrate yet.” Byron said. “We will still have our work cut out for us. If you are not careful, it could all end tomorrow.”

“Typical grouch. You just could not end it on a high note could you?” Reimeiko asked. Byron shrugged as Malachi returned to them. To herself she thought. “I hope I do not regret making this move. It would be a shame if the man I am already married to gets caught up in a bad case of bigamy.”

“Hey what is up? Are you two coming?” Malachi asked. “Come on, I hear it is almost time for dinner and I am totally starved. And it will be an excellent time to see what you know about the different silverware.”

“It sounds like a party. Lead the way.” Reimeiko replied. Later on, after the tour of the palace and the dinner, Byron and Malachi walked with Reimeiko back to her room. “You know, I have to really say that this was really fun. We are going to have so much fun together and thank you both for picking me for your house.”

“It was the best decision I have ever made as far as I can really tell.” Malachi said cheerfully

“The dye is cast, is it not? I suppose we shall see just how you fare in the days to come and how much you have learned tomorrow in any case.” Byron added ruefully. “Good night, Reimeiko, we will find you tomorrow to plan for the masquerade. If you need anything, we will be in the suite next door, otherwise, sleep well.”

She returned to her room and after her things are unpacked and put away, she sat at the table on her balcony and began typing away into her latest entry in her computer journal: After the final battle with Chaotic and Nemesira, I thought we were done facing off with tyrants, dictators and conspiracies, but it seems there is another conspiracy to face off with. Something has happened to separate Karyson from Tristan, Knight Wolf and his memories of being connected with Reimeiko Thunderis and where she fits into his life: A video call from Pepper paused her musings. She knew that Pepper was going to have a ton of questions knowing the truth.

#trr #kingliam2019 #texaskitten30 #thunderstaruniversalenterprises #knightthunderis85 #gliamtruelovealways #knightthunderis #ao719

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