#am I really going to do more with Finalist even though I already have two massive stories I’m working on? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ptergwen · 3 years

Text

from one kid to another

w/c: 6.0k

warnings: mentions of drinking, lots of swearing, implied smut, and angst at times

summary: it was a mistake, a beautiful one that you didn’t make on your own

a/n: this genuinely is my favorite thing i’ve ever written :,) i say that a lot but this time i mean it, it’s really special i think and i so so so hope y’all do too <3 enjoy my loves

there’s only one thing in life that testing positive for is actually positive.

depending on the situation, obviously. yours isn’t ideal, or planned or a blessing or whatever people say. it’s a gigantic mistake that you didn’t realize you made until a minute ago.

you’d noticed something was wrong when your time of the month came and all you experienced was the symptoms. cramps, cravings, everything except your actual period. as everyone is pretty much taught to do, you ran to the closest drug store for a pregnancy test. what the hell else could it be? you messed around a few weeks ago, so there’s a possibility.

your heart felt like it was going to explode out of your chest the whole time you waited for the results. you’d thought of calling tom over for support, but there are a couple of reasons why you couldn’t do that. you realized you made the right decision when your timer for the test went off.

two red lines. you’re pregnant. you’re pregnant, and your best fucking friend is the father.

where do you go from here?

the test falls from your hand and hits the floor with a mocking clank. you slide down until your back is against the bathtub. well, you’re fucked. what an ironic word choice.

the fact that you aren’t ready in the slightest to be a parent when you’re still growing up yourself is one thing. it’s another that this could ruin the most important relationship you’ve ever had.

no, tom won’t be mad. he’s never once fought with or even raised his voice at you. in your times of need, he’s been the one to uplift you and kiss your puffy cheeks dry. no matter how he takes this, you know it won’t be out on you. he is half responsible.

but, with how you left things the last time you spoke, you’re not sure you’ll be able to get past it.

tom is alarmingly good at hiding how he truly feels. you always tease him that it’s because he’s a gemini. he’ll come back with shut up, i’m an actor and stick his nose in the air to give you the full image. in all seriousness, it does take a toll on how well he can communicate.

you’ve seen it in small ways, like when he brings you along for press days and uses unenthusiastic smiles to cover up his yawns. how he’ll be polite in a conversation with people he’d rather not speak to, then mumble about it once you’re home. he tries to put forward the “appealing” parts of himself even though he’s more than them.

tom’s biggest communication issue is that he’s been in love with you since year nine and hasn’t said a word about it. you’ve yet to figure that one out.

you two became friends while tom was starring in billy elliot. his schedule was so scattered between shows and school, so he struggled to balance both. he often had to stay late for extra help on the lessons. you’d also been there a few times. you worked better in the classroom, and he was grateful he didn’t have to be alone with the teacher.

most kids made fun of tom for his interest in theater, to his face and behind his back. not you. you thought it was just incredible that someone in your own classes worked at the west end. you’d told him on your way home one night.

he’d heard you before he saw you. “you’re tom, right?” you asked from behind him, the two of you making your way through the hall. the question sounded friendly, and it wasn’t every day kids were nice to him. tom stopped walking so you could catch up. “yes, and you are?” you gave him a small smile, books clutched to your chest. he instantly returned it.

“y/n. i heard you’re in billy elliot?” you laughed at your understatement, then corrected yourself. “that you are billy elliot, i mean. that’s so cool.” “oh, i am. thank you,” he chuckled back, a full grin taking over his face. you were both walking again, you by tom’s side. “i was hoping to come see you soon.” your voice got quieter as you told him, like you were nervous.

tom never had much luck with girls, not at this point in his life. this was an opportunity to change that. at the very least, to make a new friend. he offered something you said yes to without a beat of hesitation. “what if i got you the tickets?”

from then on, you began talking during class and not only when it ended. tom really knew how to keep the conversation going, telling story after story that left you laughing so much your teacher would shush you. you’d eventually moved to hangouts at either of your houses. harrison came into the mix at some point, the three of you forming your own group.

the difference between tom and harrison was that while harrison linked with other girls, tom was only interested in you. he’d gotten a crush on you pretty fast, if he was being honest. it might have been your shared sense of humor or the way you said his name.

thomas, when he was being cheeky. tommy, which took the place of a pet name. even regular tom. that might have been his favorite. he loved how it rolled off your tongue. he loved, and still loves, you.

you’d gone to all of tom’s performances you possibly could, the ones for school theater included. you also gave him the push to take his talents to hollywood. tom was afraid he wasn’t cut out for the big screen, that he needed more practice and experience first. you told him that if this was what he wanted to do, he had to start somewhere. why wait?

tom then landed his first movie role in the impossible at the age of fifteen. he’d received tons of praise and almost gotten nominated for an academy award, all because you convinced him to audition. you played a huge part in keeping him grounded when he was between films, and caught him up on whatever schoolwork he’d missed.

you practically zoomed to tom’s house when he was announced as the next spider-man. you’d been constantly refreshing every social media platform marvel was on since tom became a finalist for the part. that process was probably the most difficult experience he’s ever gone through. you’d know, having heard all about it from tom.

the two of you celebrated along with the rest of tom’s family that night. you kept giving him little proud of you squeezes on his shoulder or knee. tom is eternally indebted to you for being the most supportive of everything he does.

he of course sends the support right back. although he went down the movie star path, acting wasn’t for you. you’d gone off to university and studied hard as hell and aced all your shit. tom quizzed you on material whenever you needed. he wanted to help you somehow, and this was all you’d let him do.

he’d offered to pay off your loans and any other expenses necessary because he had the money to do that now. you refused every single time, not trying to become dependent on him. he admired your drive, yet hated it at the same time. everything you’d done for him, it was his turn to be the caretaker. it should’ve been.

whenever tom wrapped filming for the holidays and came back home, you were always preparing for final exams. he kept you company, content with simply being in your presence. you typed away on your keyboard and read over notes until your eyes burned. tom occasionally brought you snacks, tea, asked how you were and what he could do.

sometimes, he would have to cut your study time short. he’d say it wasn’t healthy or you were overdoing it and to come relax with him for a bit. other times, tom let you be. he didn’t want to get in the way of your already stressful assignments. those were the nights you’d fall asleep in front of your laptop. drool on your chin, hunched over at your desk.

tom made sure to tuck you in, press a light kiss to whatever part of your face wasn’t covered in spit, then let himself out. he knew where your spare key was, so he used that. you’d wake up to a “Fell asleep studying again. Rest today x” text the next morning.

when it came time for you to graduate, tom was on the first flight there. it was during another round of reshoots for chaos walking. he respectfully told doug that he’d have to work around his schedule or replace him, which couldn’t be done so late into filming. tom didn’t care that it made him seem like a prick. he was getting to you no matter what he had to do.

he’d earned plenty of stares and whispers from people as he took his seat in the crowd. he was a proper celebrity now, so he expected it. his solution was to ignore everything and chat with your family about how proud they were of you, tom the most. he saw you go from a kid attempting algebra equations to an adult at her uni graduation. you’ve really grown up together.

it was why he teared up hearing them call your name, seeing you beam as you walked across the stage. your mom grabbed his hand and nodded at him, like she could tell exactly what was going through his head.

you ran right up to tom after the ceremony was over, leaping into his arms. he let out a couple of chuckles as he spun you around. “i didn’t think you’d make it,” you’d admitted, happy yet sad tears in your eyes. tom put you down so he could pull you in for a real hug. “i’ll always be wherever you are, y/n,” he said into your ear, rocking you while you gripped at his suit collar.

flash forward to a year later, your career is finally taking off, tom’s is flourishing like it has been for years, and you’re pregnant with his child. you’re trying to recall the series of events that led you to this moment.

you were both drunk, blackout drunk because the only reason you remember sleeping together is that you woke up naked in the same bed. harrison’s bed.

he threw a housewarming party for himself, having recently moved out of tom’s and the other boys’ place. the three of them, sam, and you were all in attendance, along with a lot of others you hadn’t met.

neither you nor tom could figure out where he knew all those people from. he’d clinged to you two for the most part, more so you now with tom usually away. they could have been from work. harrison is breaking into the business himself, small roles here and there. tom actually met him in your school’s theater program, then he introduced him to you, ten years ago already.

sam entertained himself by making concoctions with the snacks harrison set out. harry got together a playlist for the party. harrison and tuwaine struck up a conversation with some of harrison’s actor friends. that left you and tom alone, out of stuff to do, and with one way to fix it.

“drink?” tom had asked you, a smirk playing on his lips. “love one,” you hummed back and set off for the kitchen. the two of you raided harrison’s liquor cabinet, grabbing his biggest bottle of wine. he’d dumbly pointed it out during the house tour he gave you before the other guests arrived.

you were about to search for glasses, but tom’s fingers threaded through yours. he gently tugged you away and nodded behind him. “let’s bring this upstairs. seems much more fun there,” he’d murmured over the music, a grin breaking across your face.

tom is big on clubbing and socializing, however, you aren’t. he comes up with ways to get you out of these events, just in case.

“we can break in harrison’s bed for him,” you said as a completely harmless joke, no intentions of that becoming your reality later on. spoiler alert: it did. “and how are we gonna do that?” tom quirked a suggestive eyebrow and breathed out a laugh as you dragged him towards the stairs. despite yourself, you’d giggled at his words.

not one drink in either of you yet, and you were stumbling and cracking up as you ran upstairs. you’d pulled tom by your still attached hands into what you remembered as harrison’s room. tom shut the door, locked it, saying under his breath that would be a “convenient investment” for him to make as well.

he took out a bottle opener that he must have put in his pocket at some point and got to work on your wine, you getting comfortable on the new mattress. the two of you passed it to the other after every sip, tom licking the taste of your lip gloss off his own lips every so often.

the equivalent of three drinks in, you were making out. both of you were just tipsy at this point, tom holding you by your hips as you lied down, your legs around his waist. god, he could’ve done this sober. he’d dreamed about kissing you, really kissing you since he was fourteen. you’d always felt like you two had something more. ah, there it was.

halfway through the bottle got you past the next two bases, and you were ready for the fourth and ultimate one by the time you shook the last few drops onto the tip of your tongue. tom groaned at the sight of that, drawing your half naked body in closer to his.

you two had forgotten to use protection in each of your drunken states. without a doubt, you both would’ve agreed to a condom had your minds not been everywhere but where they should have.

you’d woken up first the morning after, panic immediately coursing through your veins thicker than blood. a fully nude and sleeping tom had you in his embrace, arms secured around your middle, facing you. you gasped when you made the connection, loudly enough to wake tom up. his long eyelashes tickled your face, a confused pout on his lips. uh... um...

“did we fucking...” you trailed off, no words to describe whatever unfolded. “fuck?” tom finished for you. a very blunt explanation, but true nevertheless. “looks like it,” he rasped, pout changing into a smile. your face fell at the vague memories of how you spent your night.

you definitely wanted to do it. just, he’s your best friend, who’s seen you at your least sexy moments over the years. when you were sick, had breakdowns from stress, you name literally anything, tom was there. it took one bottle of cheap wine for him to forget that?

the real answer was no. tom is entirely in love with you, for a decade at that. you were beginning to discover you feel the same, only you had no idea he already loves you. you’d assumed this was meant to be merely a hookup. from the frown your face held, he’d thought you were regretting it. oh, were you both so wrong.

“um... we don’t have to talk about it,” tom told you halfheartedly, under the impression that’s what you preferred. you physically felt yourself get weaker in tom’s strong arms. he’s not interested. “yeah, that’s probably for the best. i...” you were lying. his heart shrunk, shriveled up inside his chest. she doesn’t love me like that.

“you have to go. aren’t you behind on some emails?” tom hoped you didn’t hear his voice strain from the tears pushing at his eyes. “right. almost forgot, thanks.” you’d plastered on a smile, slipping out of his grasp. a tear rolled down his cheek, so he wiped it away before you noticed. you’d already gotten out of the bed and begun picking your clothes up off the floor.

“i’ll drive you home, then.” he rolled on to his other side, you thought so he could give you privacy to change. it was that, and also because he was crying. he couldn’t hold it in. tom is naturally an emotional person. imagine finding out the love you’ve had almost half your life is unreciprocated. it’s soul crushing.

you two found harrison snoring and on top of tuwaine as you left the house. no silly remarks or shared glances for the first time in ten years. tom couldn’t muster anything up, and you felt numb.

the drive was painful. you’d said your goodbyes after tom pulled up to the curb, which held an odd weight to them. once you were out of the car, a sob wracked through him, banging on the steering wheel and not giving a shit about the loud horn going off. you collapsed face first onto your bed. hours passed by while you stared at nothing and contemplated everything.

since it happened, you haven’t spoken much. small talk over text every few days or so, both of you pretending things are normal for the other’s sake. about a month later, today, is when you found out you’re pregnant.

there’s no use wallowing in any of this. you need to figure out your next move, one that should probably involve tom. first, you want to talk to someone else. you want other opinions and a voice in your head that isn’t your own. harrison gets a text from you saying to come over now, the now in all caps. he does.

you let him in after the second knock, his eyebrows furrowing in concern. however torn you are, you must look it. shirt balled in your fists, lip quivering. he keeps his eyes on yours as he steps inside, pushing the door shut behind him. this is all becoming too real. “y/n, are you okay?”

you’re about to cry in three, two...

“haz, i fucked up,” you choke out, tears unable to stay at bay. he takes you into his arms for a hug. half your face is hidden in his shoulder, hands clutching at his back. he lets you cry it out, holding you until your heavy breathing steadies. “what’s happened?” harrison asks quietly, both of you leaving the hug.

“if- if i tell you, you can’t freak out. you can’t tell anyone else, either,” you instruct, searching his eyes for certainty that he won’t under any circumstances. “i won’t, y/n/n,” he assures you and puts an encouraging hand on your arm. your heart pounding abnormally fast, you spit it out. your first time saying it aloud. “i’m pregnant.”

harrison flinches and doesn’t even try to conceal it. he takes his hand off of you, worry swimming across his features. he blinks at you, unsure of what to say. you’d react the same way, maybe worse, so you don’t blame him. a discussion you, him, and tom had a couple years back replays in his mind.

the three of you were talking about your futures, seeing as you were close to living them. when tom asked you two where you stood on having your own families, you didn’t hesitate to answer. “nope, the factory is closed for a long ass time.” until you were in your thirties, you aimed to focus on yourself. harrison distinctly remembered because of how you phrased it.

“you’re... you... wow,” is all he replies with. you head over to the couch, more tears welling up in your eyes. do the pregnancy hormones act up this early? harrison follows you over and sits down next to you with an awkward clearing of his throat. “do you want to be pregnant?” he has to ask because he’s not sure if he should congratulate you or what.

“i don’t know,” you answer honestly, voice airy. your eyes are fixed on the wall in front of you. you haven’t given yourself time to think about it. there are so many reasons you don’t, and a single one you do. “do you, um, know who the dad is?” harrison glances over at you. “yeah.” your voice cracks. you’re both afraid for him to ask what he does next.

he shifts so he’s sitting up. “can i know?” a sniffle passing through you, you finally look at him. “it’s tom,” you say it before you lose the nerve to. harrison’s face doesn’t change this time. he isn’t surprised you and tom went there. he’d seen your friendship growing into more the older you all got. what he can’t believe is where it took you.

his best friend pregnant, and his other best friend responsible for it.

“when did you...” “at your party,” you explain, bringing your legs up so they’re criss cross on the couch. “i thought you were gone a little too long.” he says that to try cheering you up. you appreciate the effort, but it doesn’t work. you’re not in a joking mood. he’ll stick to the main issue. “so, have you told him?”

“clearly not,” you scoff, not at him but at what you two have gotten yourselves into. “y/n... i think you should tell him,” harrison sighs out, then adds, “whether you keep it or not.” “why? that would ruin everything, it already has.” you’re getting angry now, which plunges you into angry crying, voice unsteady as you go on.

“the last time i saw tom was that night, and i guess it meant more to me than it did to him because we haven’t talked about it at all. he didn’t want to.” you swipe the back of your hand across your eyes, gaze stern compared to harrison’s soft one.

he drapes an arm around your shoulders, you curling into him with another sniffle. he doesn’t say anything for a minute, then he tries again. “i know you, y/n, and i know tom. you’ll kill yourselves not talking about this.” he’s right, no shit he is. avoiding telling tom how you feel, and your pregnancy on top of that, it’s eating you up inside. it’s swallowing you whole.

“what if he doesn’t want to be a dad? or- or i’m a shit mum?” you croak out, your doubts getting the best of you. “i can barely take care of myself. what am i supposed to do with a baby?” you’re leaning forward with your hands pressing into your temples. harrison’s hand moves to your upper back. “i- i don’t think i should have them. i... we can’t,” you conclude.

“tom loves kids,” he gives you a gentle reminder. “why would his own be the exception?” another good point, yet you still have rebuttles. “right, he’s a godfather and he’s really good with them and all that, but i’m not the right person, and it’s a terrible time,” you tell him all at once, in a rush to get your words out before harrison’s sway you.

“he’s never around, i’m doing my own stuff. we’re not meant for this.” you lift your head out of your hands and sit back on the couch. harrison returns his hands to his lap. he’s frowning at you, which you see from the corner of your eye. “i’m not going to force you to have the baby. just saying you have options.”

yeah, really shitty ones.

“either way, talk to tom.” harrison says this more like a demand so you’ll take his advice into actual consideration. “at least about the hookup.” your teeth sink into your lower lip, eyes watering for the nth time already.

you have no choice because he’s right again. you’ll never move on from what happened unless you and tom address it.

the next morning, you do what harrison told you to and invite tom over. he replied saying he was on his way maybe a minute later. he’s nervous to see you because yeah, but more so looking forward since it’s been so long. you’re so nauseous you barely have room for nerves. it’s morning sickness with a hint anxiety.

it feels almost normal when he first gets here, no how’ve you been and what are you up to these days? being as close as you and tom are, you’re not capable of such a dry conversation. personally, you still feel uneasy while he recounts a golfing incident him and harry got into the other day. you know something he doesn’t.

“when i tell you we flew, we flew,” tom makes a pushing forward motion with both hands. “right into the tree. i think harry, like, dented part of his face.” he lets out a breathy laugh, you forcing out one of your own. you’d be more interested without the fact that you’re expecting a child, his child, at the back of your mind.

tom exhales, shifting to face you on your couch. it’s funny how different things were when you and harrison sat in these same spots yesterday. so much has and is about to change.

“they had to send another golf cart to come get us. it was wild.” “it sounds wild,” you hollowly agree. he can tell you’re not too invested in hearing about harry’s terrible driving skills, so he changes the subject. “anyway, harrison told me he came over last night?” your stomach drops, heat coming over your whole body.

“did... did he say why?” you murmur with a look of urgency in your eyes. tom shrugs a shoulder, and casually. there’s no way he knows. “no, was he supposed to?” his tone stays playful, which you can thankfully tell. that puts you more at ease. “no. no, never mind. i would’ve asked you to come, but...” you’re searching through your catalog of excuses.

thank god tom says something else because you can’t find a good one. “it’s alright. i actually, um, had a work call.” a small smile spreads across his face, a proud one. intrigued, you raise both eyebrows. “what’d you talk about?” tom twiddles with his fingers in his lap. “i’ve been offered an audition for this really amazing film. everything works out, it’ll be huge for me.”

you’re smiling back this time, putting a hand over one of his. “woah, that’s incredible. i’m so happy for you, tom.” you lock your fingers with his from the back of his hand. he looks down at them, humbly shaking his head. “when is it?” “a few weeks from today. it films in brazil...”

oh. you can’t tell him now. it’s not worth him missing out on a milestone in his career for a baby you’re not sure you should have. that would be so unfair of you to ask. what are you going to do, not support his dreams for the first time in a literal decade? and, you’d call yourself his best friend through it all?

you guess this also means the way you feel about tom is one sided. he’s okay with leaving you after the most intimate moment you two have ever shared. you’ll dance around it the rest of your lives. better yet, act like the night never even happened. that’s not so easy to do when you’ve got a permanent reminder of it.

the thought makes you sick to your stomach. so sick, you could...

while tom is talking more about what the audition entails, you suddenly bolt up from the couch. you run for the bathroom, a hand cupped over your mouth. his face twists up in confusion from your disappearance. tom calls, “y/n/n?” out to you, but you can’t respond because your head is in the toilet. he rushes in when he hears you retching.

he gets onto the floor with you. you’re bent over, puking your guts out, back in another place where your life changed forever less than twenty four hours ago. tom pulls your hair out of your face and into a makeshift ponytail with one hand, his other on your back. that’s all you have in you. you stay over the toilet just to be sure.

saliva drips from your mouth, making you cough roughly, the sound echoing. tom moves so he’s next to you, keeping his hand in your hair and not caring one bit about the smell because he loves you and he’s utterly concerned about what he witnessed.

“love, are you sick?” he coos, searching for your eyes. they water from the intensity of everything. “morning sickness,” you answer without thinking first. shit. shit, shit, shit. it came out of you like more vomit, word vomit. there’s no going back now.

tom lets go of your hair with his eyes still on yours. his hand on your back then leaves you, fingers trailing down your body as they go. “morning sickness,” he repeats, putting it together. “you’re pregnant?” guilt taking over your features, you sit across from tom. you’re once again leaning against the bathtub, him against the counter.

“this isn’t how i wanted you to find out,” you admit and bring your knees up to your chest. “i took a test yesterday. it was positive.” your arms wrap around your legs, you now tearing up because tom figured it out. a shaky breath passes his lips. “i haven’t gone to my doctor or anything yet, but i-“

“are you keeping the baby?” tom cuts in. not to judge you for your choice, to find out what the fuck is going on before he travels across the world. you tighten your arms around yourself, grabbing your wrist. “i haven’t decided.” he gives you an understanding nod and reaches out for you. you dodge him. he might not want to do that after what you say next.

“tom, i... there’s more,” you whimper out. “yeah. i’m... i’m listening,” tom croaks, unable to hold in his infinite amount of emotions for a multitude of reasons. he’s losing you a second time. more tears spill from your eyes as you break the news, the news that will destroy what he’s been working towards his entire life.

“the baby is yours.” his face relaxes, looking almost relieved when you confess it. “when we slept together, uh,” you’re sure it’s obvious enough that you don’t have to go over the details. he’s tearing up himself. you reluctantly continue. “if you still want to audition, i get it. we don’t have to do this.”

“fuck the audition. fuck the whole movie. all of my movies, really,” tom surprises you by blurting out. he moves in until your legs are touching. “i’m staying. even if you don’t have the baby, i have to be here.” you watch in disbelief as he wipes away what are actually happy tears. “really? i was scared you’d resent me for it, or hate me even,” you mumble to him.

“y/n, what? why would i ever do that?” tom places a hand on your cheek, touch gentle and filled with love. you part your legs so he can be closer to you. he takes the space between them, thumb brushing over your skin. “i didn’t think you’d want to deal with all of this. i thought that night was only a hookup for you.” your voice wobbles under his gaze.

“no, are you kidding? i thought that’s what you thought.” he’s smiling now, eyes twinkling along with it. what he’s been meaning to tell you since you were only kids finally comes out. “i’ve loved you as long as i’ve known you, y/n. i always imagined myself doing this with you.” his words draw a quiet laugh from you, a happy one. “i know we were drunk, but i meant it all.”

the sincerity in his voice, the warmth in his eyes, they make you cry all over again. you’re getting used to it.

“i love you, tom,” you lean into him with a sniffle and a grin, his forehead now resting on yours, using his thumb to catch one of your tears. “i really do.” “i love you forever. i always have,” tom speaks lowly, breath fanning across your face. your hands grab at his shoulders. “so, you’ll stay? you’ll do this with me?” he reminds you of what he said before, this time a promise.

“forever.”

you ended up having the baby, and tom held your hand through the entire labor. nikki was holding his other hand, your mom holding your other hand. harrison had originally been in the room as well. when you started to push, he got freaked out and had to leave. your support system remained strong either way.

despite his repulsion of your daughter’s birth, you and tom decided to make harrison her godfather. he eventually became the godfather of your other two children also, which you had a few years later.

tom took a paternity leave from the industry so he could be with you and jamie. he’d also used his time off to propose to you, something else he fantasized about since year eleven in school. it wasn’t anything too grand because the whole world was already buzzing about you two, and a big gesture felt too impersonal with everything you’d been through together.

he did it in the form of passing a note, something you often did in class to avoid being scolded by your teacher for talking. the note came with a pencil to check off either the yes or no box, “will you marry me?” written above them. anyone else would have found it so unromantic, but you giggled as you checked off yes before your lips crashed into his smiling ones.

you were married shortly after the proposal, jamie as your flower girl and all your friends and family in attendance.

to do what he loved and stay with the people he loved, tom created his own version of hollywood in london. he took it upon himself to assemble a team and make a production company. harry behind the camera, harrison and tuwaine in the films, and tom either starring alongside them or directing. they give so many young actors tons of opportunities.

you eventually went back to work, too. it was like you’d never left, coworkers offering endless hugs and going over what you missed, not that you struggled getting into it. tom was there to celebrate every promotion, every compliment from your boss, every part of your life. jamie was also there, then liam and lucy.

all three of them are running around the house right now, putting on shoes and collecting their supplies for school. you take a sip of the orange juice liam didn’t finish with a lighthearted eye roll. tom chuckles as he passes you in the kitchen, getting the kids’ lunchboxes for them to minimize the chaos.

“you have that pitch meeting today, right?” he slips his hands through the lunchbox handles and walks over to you. “mhm,” you hum, mouth full with juice. his lips press to your temple, giving your waist a one handed squeeze. “you’ll smash it. always do.” “thanks, tommy.” putting down the cup, you reach up to button whatever parts of his shirt he didn’t have time to.

“aren’t you doing a casting? for the new script they sent?” you wonder aloud and smooth down the cotton material. “me and harry. should be interesting,” he remarks, you giving him a quick kiss back on his chin. they tend to have their artistic differences. “good luck with that. you do drop off, i’ll do pick up?” you pat one of the lunchboxes around his arms.

“deal.” tom goes in for a kiss on your lips, then a chorus of dad, we have to go led by jamie rings through the house. with a knowing smile, you push at his chest. “see you later. love you.” “love you, holland,” he bites back a grin of his own. his last name, now yours, suits you perfectly.

#tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x reader #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland imagine #tom holland au #peter parker #peter parker fluff #peter parker smut #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader #marvel

696 notes · View notes

saintandsinnerwrites · 3 years

Note

Hi we’re deep in the rosenali angst era but would you write something fluffy and canon compliant to restore the faith? Thank you :)

Chicago Nights

Fluff +Canon Compliant Rosénali

Okay! So I normally don’t write canon compliant, at most I just do canon inspired, but this was actually fun to write. There is a little touch of gottrosénali in there, but it’s mainly rosénali~ Hope y’all like it!

Denali was ecstatic. It was the first time she was going to see a few of her season 13 sisters. As much as she would have loved to have been on the Drive in Drag tour, she knew how Voss operated, and that you basically had to be a finalist or winner for them to book you. That was okay though because tonight it was going to be like old times, reunited with her girls. Not to mention she was going to open for the Drive in Drag girls, which she was excited for, she couldn’t wait to be on that stage again. Sure, she had been doing some smaller gigs, and of course Roscoe’s, but this was on a whole new level and she was finally going to see her Rosie again.

Despite not being part of their trailer, Rosé was often with Mik, Asia, and Vanjie, and with how loud they were, there was no mistaking which trailer was theirs. Denali walked over and knocked on the door, a little nervous, but it was mainly elation. It was Rosé who opened the door, donning her black and pink outfit with that cute bubblegum hair of hers.

“Hi Rosie~”

“Hey baby~”

Rosé pulled Denali in and the other girls immediately took notice. They roared with a raucous welcome, and that filled Denali with such happiness. She had to admit she had dealt with some serious FOMO, but this was everything she needed to leave those feelings behind. Even if it was just for tonight, this was everything to her. Everyone was done getting ready, just having some fun before they needed to be on stage. Denali couldn’t help but to snicker at Mik holding up a bottle of tequila that was as big as her head.

“This isn’t vodka, Nikita, but you should have a drink with me!” said Mik in her fake Russian accent.

Denali laughed, taking the shot from Mik and downing it with her. She took another shot, but gave it to Rosé who drank it just as swift as the other two. Asia had her phone out, filming everything of course, and they were aware that anything that happened in here would end up in her stories later. Vanjie, who already had one too many, put some music on, and she and Mik danced terribly as Asia got some rather hilarious video.

While the others were preoccupied Rosé pulled Denali into her lap and rested her head on her shoulder. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too,” said Denali. “Things haven’t been the same without my Rosie.”

“I know, diva, I know. Trust me, I wish you could be on tour with me. But I know you have a lot coming up too, yeah?”

“Yeah! I mean I truly can’t complain, but sometimes it just sucks when I’m so used to seeing you daily and now that we’re so busy, who knows when we’ll see each other? Which is why I am enjoying every moment of this night.”

“Oh, me too, mama. I have been looking forward to this for weeks. But I’ll try to be online more, even if our lives aren’t as long as they used to be, we can still give the kids what they want, while also giving ourselves what we want.”

“I’d really like that, Rosie.”

Denali puckered her lips, and Rosé gave her a little kiss, enjoying how her lips felt against hers. She had kissed Mik quite a few times, it was only fair. Not to mention, she missed the closeness they shared on the show and the immediate few months afterwards. They watched the other girls getting deep in their shenanigans, and truly there was never a dull moment. Rosé loved that though, and she loved having Denali by her side.

A little smile spread across Rosé’s face, “You know what I just thought of?”

“Hm?”

“We should so reenact our iconic lipsync tonight.”

“Holy shit!” Denali gasped, “That would be amazing, and you know everyone would be fucking living for it.”

“Just like they were living for the elevator story,” Rosé chuckled.

“That was a fucking trip though, I didn’t think we were ever going to get out of there! Thank god I had my bodyguard,” Denali said with a snicker.

“You’re the fucking blackbelt!”

“And?”

“Hey!” Came a voice over the music. It was Asia.

“Yes, my love?” asked Rosé, wondering what Asia had up her sleeve this time.

“You never answered me before. Mik or Denali?”

Oh god, that question again, and now they both were here in the same trailer with her. She didn’t want to choose then, and she sure as hell wasn’t doing it now. Rosé and Denali looked at each other before both of them leapt up and ran out of the trailer, much to the other girls’ dismay. They wanted an answer, America wanted an answer, the world wanted an answer!

“Get your asses back here!” exclaimed Asia.

Rosé ran off, but Denali poked her head back in and quipped, “¿Por qué no los dos?” And that made all the girls shriek.

#saint writes #chdenali #chrosé #shrosénali #anon

16 notes · View notes

yourdesertsunflower · 4 years

Text

Chunin Exams: Shikamaru vs. Temari

So this will be long, so be ready for some deep diving. I’d been thinking this for quite a while so let’s go.

One of my favorite Chunin Exams’s match has to be Shikamaru vs. Temari. This may not be much of a surprise for any of you, but maybe the reason why it is between my top 3 will surprise more than one.

Obviously the ship factor made me like this battle even more, but it’s not even a primary or secondary reason for why I love this match. This battle stands out to me as being one of the most truthful ninja fights of the whole arc. Why? Because a ninja fight, as Kakashi would day during the Zabuza’s arc is about always plotting, to know when to do certain thing, to know when to not to do them and just hide and to work with the tools you have.

It’s a battle were the brains out beats the brute force, where the strength is the last resource and the strategy primes as the best thing a ninja can have. It about deciphering our opponent, carrying out the best strategy and ensuring the win as much as possible and both Shikamaru and Temari excel at being this masterminds. They make the most out of their battle and, in my opinion, they both shine through as not only capable but highly advanced strategists, specially for their short age.

That’s why when I hear people going like “No, she’s not.” when Asuma says that Temari she is bright and that she thinks like Shikamaru (she thinks ahead) or say that “Shikamaru could have easily beat Temari if he wasn’t that lazy” I just feel like crying.

However, it’s not people’s fault after all. The direction of the match in both the anime and the manga makes Shikamaru’s strategy the wow factor. I am not saying his tactic is not genius, I would be pretty lame if I said that, nor that Shikamaru is not more intelligent than Temari (He is the most brilliant person of his generation, specially when it comes to strategy) and he deserved the recognition because the tactic he carried through was slick af. It’s one of the many reason why Shikamaru is my absolute favorite character in Naruto (I love him so much).

However, I think that Shikamaru’s genius shouldn’t by any means diminish Temari’s wit. Because she was also delivering quite a good fight, she was a good match for Shikamaru (which ain’t easy) and (I personally think) had a pretty accurate strategy.

So, I gave myself the job of being Temari’s Asuma and explain in full detail what I think, through my reading, was Temari’s strategy. Because my girl deserves more recognition. She is a strategist and a really good one.

1. Context

One thing I think it’s important to mention before anything is the context of the match.

If we come to think about it, it wouldn’t be that far-fetched to say that Temari couldn’t waste that much chakra nor show new abilities in her fight against Shikamaru. Let’s remember that the Sand only participated in the Chunin Exams because of the attack, to execute the Konoha Crush. A plan for which the Sand Siblings, specially Gaara, were crucial. Even we get to see Kankuro forfeiting of his fight against Shino in order to keep his techniques a secret and wait for the time to make the move.

However Temari didn’t had the same luck. It would be suspicious if the two of them just gave up. My reading of the situation is that actually neither of them expected to fight their respective matches as Gaara’s match against Sasuke was before theirs. Still, if someone had to fight Temari knew that would be her because,

a. Kankuro was against Shino who had shown to be a beast, and hence, it was more likely that he would have to use higher tier attacks.

b. Temari showed to be quite confident of her skills and Shikamaru, though he had shown to be intelligent (not to the extent of this match but intelligent nonetheless) he was the weakest of the finalist in terms of raw strength.

So, Temari had to be the one to fight. Otherwise the plan would fall apart, and although she wasn’t sure about attacking from the start, she was extremely loyal to her village and would never do something to hurt it. However she couldn’t be imprudent, hence, she didn’t had to waste that much chakra in order not to tire herself that much and couldn’t show new wind style techniques as that would only weaken the surprise effect this might have (let’s remember she was in a stadium filled with highly capable Shinobi, Chunin and Jonin Level)

But although she couldn’t be imprudent, she also couldn’t let herself be defeated. After all, she is Temari. She had figure out a way to win despite the limitations she had which brings us to the fight itself.

2. First Movement: Gaining Information

The first thing Temari knows is that she needs some information about the match and the rival so she starts off by trying to get an action or a least a reaction from Shikamaru, which proved to be quite draining due to his usual unmotivated behavior.

The frontal and direct attacks of Temari at the beginning of the match serve that purpose.

Unlike her match against Tenten, where she could just start of in complete defensiveness she quickly realized that that wouldn’t work with Shikamaru. I am pretty sure Temari is one of those fighters who don’t like to make the first move but to wait and recollect information from her adversaries (after all i her battle against Tenten, in which she always seemed comfortable she did just that) but as she knew that couldn’t be the case as while Tenten is someone active, Shikamaru is more of reactive fighter she just attacked to get the necessary information to use with her previous knowledge (which I’ll also proceed to explain) to plan a strategy.

She knew from Shikamaru’s fight against Kin (the sound ninja) that it was quite likely that the Shadow Posession Jutsu had:

a. A range

b. Short duration spam.

c. Wasted to much chakra.

After all, Shikamaru was always shown to be pretty cautious about how and when he used it. That’s why the jutsu doesn’t seem much of a threat at the beginning as if she could manage to identify the range of his jutsu she could just stay away from it and make him waste chakra.

If to that we add that Shikamaru’s reaction was to hide she also gained a panorama of how the fight will be like. It’ll most likely be a long-lasting battle based more in indirect attacks and meticulously planning than in strength.

This seemed to match quite well, which justifies Temari’s smile as Shikamaru hides. At first glance stretching out the duration of the battle and fighting long-range was just perfect for her as she could save as much chakra as possible, dodging the attacks of Shikamaru while making him waste as much chakra as possible.

Hence, although Temari was overconfident (aspect I’ll talk about in more detail later) she had a reason to be so. She had a fairly strong plan,and everything seemed to be falling in the right place.

2. Identifying the Range and the Sun

The first attacks of Shikamaru just seem to work on perfectly for Temari as she achieves to find out her shadow range, a jaw-dropping fifteen meters thirty-two centimetres (like she is also a mathematician in her own right).

It’s then when Shikamaru shows her that there was one factor she hadn’t thought about before: the sun. When the shadow reaches a longer distance than it had already done she quickly deduces that as the sun sets the shadow of the wall was getting larger, hence elongating the shadow making his range bigger.

And Temari quickly adapts to the situation working out several plans she could use. She decides the better was keeping up with the angle and the direction from which the sun is hitting the wall and the growth in his shadow in order to be able to calculate an equation that would keep him away from his shadow.

This is good because while some may just freak out and try to use brute force to finish it, as seemingly stretching the match no longer holds any sense, Temari takes her time to think and finds a way to use her skills and knowledge in battle. This is no easy task, as we see that a lot of highly talented shinobis on paper had a tough time in practice. But she is so great that she comes up with a way that doesn’t directly throws the entire plan she had come up with to the trash.

3. Surprise Attack

Well I got to say this. I don’t like that Kankuro warns Temari about Shikamaru’s home-made parachute because I easily think that she could have realized by herself. She had shown all through the battle to have great observational skills and to be quite focused so I think that Kishimoto could have easily come up with that.

Still, I understand that Kishomoto through this fight tries to justify that Shikamaru was the one that would become a Chunin, so nerfing Temari isn’t the worst thing out of all. I don’t like it but isn’t that bad if we take into consideration the other thingd that were done in the manga.

However is through her ability to dodge this attack we get Asuma’s and Shikamaru’s reaction and recognition of Temari’s skills. She is a really good shinobi, quick, intelligent and competent.

Yes, Shikamaru had just gotten her in the position she wanted but what he said he truly meant it, which means a lot given his chauvinistic behavior at the begging of Naruto. She is fast learner, she is capable to dodge attacks that no regular genin could or as Shikamaru said in Naruto Ninja Storm 4 (yes, I usually hate most of the scenes in this game but this one ShikaTema scene was so sport on) that she was the first person of his age to be able dodge that many attacks from him, which leaves me to another point.

4. Moves Ahead

It’s almost a meme that Shikamaru has a 200 IQ and that he is 200 moves ahead everyone else but what I really think that people don’t understand is that for Shikamaru each an everyone of those moves, from the first one to the the two hundred, could be the last one. When Shikamaru plans out a strategy he may use some moves that are feints but those feints may also work to end the match to less skilled rivals. Each move works as an individual move as part of a whole. That is other level, is genius. Prove of the overtly exaggerated 200 IQ, almost everyone could seem dumb beside him.

However, the complexity of the strategy he used against Temari shows us that how knew that he needed to come up with something good in order to be able to beat her. She wouldn’t fall for something straightfoward because she showed to be several steps ahead also.

She had shown to easily decipher his jutsu’s range, she had found elements that could have served him as an advantage and she had been skillful enough to move around the field avoiding his jutsu with ease. And he knows that because

a. He had seen it,

b. She had told it to him, which I think was one of the biggest mistakes of Temari derived from her over-confidence.

That’s why his plan had to be slick in order to win which brings up the end of the match.

5. Checkmate

After seeing that Shikamaru’s shadow range was almost unlimited and that her chances of measuring it were incredibly low she then decides to end it once and for all because;

a. If she extended the match much longer it was almost inevitable that she will end up being caught by his shadow paralysis jutsu

b. She couldn’t risk to waste a lot of chakra since, I have already mentioned, it was indispensable she was in good conditions for the Konoha Crush.

But it’s interesting the movement she plans out in order to beat Shikamaru since it shows that she is very aware of her own tools and abilities and of the abilities of her rival. One clone will take the attention of him, falling in his shadows paralysis while she just bluntly beat him with her crushing wind style. Fairly simple, but also extremely effective.

When Shikamaru caught her and shows her his strategy Temari quickly understands what he had done. She had underestimated both his jutsu and his mind and that added with her over-confidence in her analysis was what gave Shikamaru the necessary information to caught her.

She is genuinely surprised as the rest of the crowd but they are even more when he gives up.

That was just a masterful decision of Kishimoto, I got to give him that, because it not only make Shikamaru be cool af for the audience, but also for two things that are lest often touched upon:

a. In terms of Shikamaru it showed the genius he is, the smartest person of his generation by far, capable of examining the situation and choose the best option to execute. He was running out of chakra while his rival was safe and sound. In a real life mission the best option is retreat, and that’s what he does. This is shows to Temari than he and Shikamaru are actually much more alike than she had thought. They both are rational thinkers, who measure cons and pros and are able to come up with a logical analysis but they are also pretty conscious of themselves and others. That’s what Asuma means when he says they think alike, that why they always seem to work along together despite their seemingly clashing personalities.

b. In terms of Temari she gets the bittersweet victory. She archived what she wanted, making him run out of chakra, but not how she wanted to do so. It is deserved and undeserved at the same time which conflicts her. If the battle had continued it was more than likely she had won as she wanted to but it didn’t which let her thinking that, if he could he could have easily beat her even though he states that not to be the reason. After all he had clearly outsmarted her, and that was what was the most important for her, despite her win was deserved in my opinion (not because she was more intelligent than him, because no one really is, but because, at the end, she managed with her wit and talent to make it impossible for him to continue). She thinks that her over-confidence and her analysis which she prides of, was the thing that took her down and that it’s quite important for her character and her relationships with others. We’ll get to see how this affected her in her following appearances, when we get to see her when she goes to fight against Tayuya she carefully listens to Shikamaru’s analysis, although at the end she decides to do it her way (an nails it), her decision was derived from her listing to his words and all he got to say.

At the end Temari will always be her wonderful confident self (that’s only another reason to love her) but after this match she shows to be more cautious when underestimating her rivals, however you shouldn’t dare underestimate her.

Because she is a f***ing boss.

#temari #shikamaru #shikatema #chuninexams #shikamaru x temari #shikamaru nara #nara #shikamaru vs temari #temari deserves better #she is amazing #protemari #chunin exams #opinion #anime #naruto

127 notes · View notes

nitannichionne · 4 years

Text

Luna IV, Chapter 13: The Tournament (A Cavill Syverson Fan Fic)

Chapter 13: The Tournament

CHAPTER 13: The Tournament

The marketplace was in excited upheaval. It had been for the last few weeks. The Luna Women’s competition was drawing close.

Any woman could participate, though single and claimed had their own tournaments. There were ten competitions: artisanship, cooking, cleaning, beauty, hand to hand combat, intelligence, archery, athleticism, gardening and riding.

You had never heard of it before, and for that alone, you are excited. You and Helena take your usual table and watch women and merchants haggling more than usual.

“You’re really into this!” Helena smiles at you.

“I know I can win the rough stuff,” you say excitedly. “Did you see those medals?”

“Yes, but there is some serious competition,” Helena warns softly. “The outlanders, the ones who live on the outside of the cities, their women are pretty rough, too.”

You sigh, “Hopefully my practicing will earn a place, at least.” You smile at Helena. “You’re a shoe-in for beauty, by the way.”

Helena smiles at that, chuckling as she rolled her eyes. “Yeah, with the little pouch here.” She raises an eyebrow. “You should try to enter it. You’re really exotic looking.”

You laugh out loud. “No, thanks!”

“Hi!” Gabrielle smiles, clutching sheets to her breast.

You smile. You honestly have never seen such change in a woman before. Gabrielle was still afraid of most men except Lysander, but she was no longer afraid to smile, look people in the eye. She simply was not the same woman she was three months ago.

“Where have you been?” you ask her.

“Lysander,” she says sheepishly. “I honestly don’t understand it. You’d think he’d be tired of me.”

“Are you?” Helena asks knowingly.

Gabrielle leaned forward and grinned girlishly. “No!” They all laughed at that. “What did I miss?”

“I chose my fabric,” You push swatches toward her.

“I brought my sketches for you two,” Gabrielle smiles. “Let me know what you think, okay? I’ll get some drinks…for you, too, Kane!” She scratches his ears and goes for refreshments.

You and Helena frown over the sketches.

“She is good, you know that?” you nod.

“I know. That’s why we’re going to enter our costumes into the artisan’s competition in Gabrielle’s name!” Helena whispers.

You gasp softly, “She’s in the gardening competition already. You’re going to put her in another?”

“She signed the sketches,” Helena taps the sheets. “See? All we have to do is wear the number on our costumes, that’s all.”

“She might be embarrassed.”

“And Lysander will be there for her,” Helena says with no remorse. “He’s even thinking about entering his outfit for that day. She finished it yesterday.” She pauses, changing the subject. “Are you sure you don’t want to try for the beauty competition?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Zenobia nods, rolling her eyes. “The archery and athleticism events are enough, thank you.”

“Hhmph,” Helena pouts. “I thought you were doing hand to hand.”

“Your brother said no, that’s why I’m doing athleticism instead.” You roll your eyes. “He really gets on my nerves sometimes.”

Helen arches her eyebrow, her smile disbelieving. “Yeah, right.”

*****

The Luna Women’s competition came on a beautiful but hot day. Colors were posted everywhere and merchants sold cool drinks and shade. There was public shade but it was crowded.

You are grateful to find that Sy has not only reserved shade for some of his people, but got you a two room private tent with a cooling system inside. You are relieved to see it as you complete the events of the athleticism competition.

“I saw you in the footrace,” Sy smiles, handing you a drink when you come inside the tent. “I had no idea you were so fast.”

You raise an eyebrow brow at him. “You never asked.”

“They should be doing archery soon,” he nods. “Anything you want to tell me about that?”

“I was one of the best on my father’s property,” you beam. “I trained with his archers, but not with arrows. I trained with bullet tips.”

“That man, rest his soul, gave you way too much advantage.”

“Ha!” You have become used to his little ribs, but most of the time, you just liked the way his mouth went a little lopsided when he did. “You’ll be there, won’t you?” You watch him sit as if trying to decide and you pounce on him. He laughs up at you as you grab his shirt front and shake him slightly. “You will be there, right?”

“I will be there,” he chuckles, grabbing your wrists and turning your bodies so that he was over you. He brings his lips down on yours, nibbling and teasing your mouth to open to him.

“Sy…” you sigh, and then scramble to your feet when she saw the look in his eyes. “Uh-uh, I need all my strength for today!”

“Before we leave, I will have you in this tent,” he assures, his smile completely suggestive.

Your stomach does flip-flops as you smile back. “Just not now.”

He lunges for you and you duck out, hearing his laughter. Ah, that man…

“It’s true, then!”

You turn to Gabrielle’s gasp. “What?” She looked down at the number. “Oh, you like?”

Gabrielle looks upset, to the point of tears. “I’m not that good!”

“Brielle.” Lysander calls softly, catching up to her. “I told her to.”

“But, but why?!” Gabrielle shakes her head as tears well up in her eyes.

“Because we know talent when we see it,” he nods. “I have been getting compliments on this outfit since we got here.” She opens her mouth to protest and he kisses her forehead, immediately quieting and calming her. “Trust me?”

She looked up at him, nodding. “Always, but--” She sighs as he kissed her soundly.

Lysander raises his head just in time to recognize the man coming toward them. “Oh, hey, Theron!”

Theron was all smiles and a bit excited. “Let’s go to the beauty competition,” he suggested. “Helena’s one of the finalists.”

“I can only stay a little while,” you say apologetically. “I have a few more things to do.”

“I thought the archery contest was at the end of the day,” Lysander frowns slightly.

“It is,” you nod. “But I have a few more athletic categories too.”

The group went to watch Helena compete. You can’t believe how pretty some of the women were, and how many boldly stared at Sy. It was as if you weren’t there. They smiled at Theron, but Helena was more than their equal in beauty. You look down at your form fitting halter and brown chaps with underlying shorts. You like the outfit; it hugs your curves and you can do just about anything in it, but these women floated across the floor.

Sy’s arms close around you. “What?”

“Hmmm?” you nod, picking at the beadwork on the arm braces Gabrielle made for you. “Nothing.”

He bends down and nuzzles your ear. “Come on.”

“Nothing.”

“And the winner is…Helena Cavanaugh!”

Helena was tearful as she accepted her crown with three silver moons on it. She smiled at the crowd, and then at her husband.

“I love you,” Theron mouths the words.

“I love you,” Helena mouths back, blowing him a kiss.

It slams into you. You want Sy’s love, and to keep it, more than anything. You kiss him on the cheek and leave to complete your competition.

The rest of the afternoon wears at your nerves. You place second in athletics because you truly didn’t climb walls a lot, nor did you swim. You are thankful that running and agility helped your scores. You hope to win the archery competition.

The archery competition is grueling. You get down to the finals, and it comes down to you and last year’s winner, Gloria Crieger. It comes down to one arrow at twice the distance than before. You shoot within the bullseye but Gloria shoots dead center, leaving you with second place again.

You swallow hard. You can’t believe you lost the archery competition. You’d never lost against a woman. Your pride is crippled. You stand stiffly as you are given the medal, and step off the stand as soon as she can. You see Sy come toward you, and you can’t look at him.

“Hey,” he lifts your chin so he can look at you. He looks surprised to find tears in your usually bright eyes. “Zen?” He pulls you into his embrace, sighing as your tears come. “Aw, sweetheart…”

“I’m sorry.” You sniff into his shirt, and manage to look at him. “I really tried, Sy. I wanted to make you proud! I wanted to bring glory to your house!”

Sy pulls you closer. He tilts your chin up and wipes your tears. “But sweetheart, I am proud of you. You lost to a woman who has won this competition for years. You just entered, and you placed second. Don’t cry, baby, don’t cry.” He rubs your back comfortingly.

“I don’t care!” How could you hope to keep him? You aren’t an exceptional beauty like Helena, or artistic and sweetly soft like Brielle. Your father once spoke of your mother’s warrior skills like she was unparallel to any other woman, that she was special. “I’m sorry, Sy. I really am. I’ll do—“

He laughs at you, and speaks to you as if you are a child. “I am proud of you—“ He rains kisses on your face as you begin to shake your head, not wanting pity. “No, no, listen to me.” He frames your face in his hands, wiping your tears with his thumbs. “I am proud of you, I am proud you are mine, with me.” He kisses you again, and holds you tightly, and you felt the tightness in your sobbing chest melt as you begin to snuggle under his chin. He rubs your back. “You’re such a silly girl sometimes, you know that?”

“Oh!” You realize you’ve made a spectacle of herself. Some people are actually watching you, but you were too upset to pay attention. You are mortified.

He laughs down at you. “What?” You snuggle closer to him, hiding to regain the rest of your composure. “Aw, just realized some people are watching?” He laughed louder, kissing the top of your head. “Look around.” He nudges your temple. “Go on, look around.”

You peek around his bicep. You see most people barely paying attention, but some smiled at you. Gabrielle is still marveling at her medal in the artisan’s competition as Lysander holds her. Then you see Gloria with her mate. There is no holding, no kissing, no congratulations from him. He collects her winnings, and gives her a small portion of it. Then he gives her the trophy with a pat on the back. She nods her thanks. He didn’t even hold her hand as they walked away from the crowds. You lock eyes with Gloria, and see the longing and loneliness of the woman. “Sy…”

“I know, I know. We won.”

You snuggle closer to him, taking a deep but shaky breath. “Yes. We won.”

@fckdeusername @maan24 @rn7rocks @kaatelyyynn @october505 @absentmindedreader @introvertedmouse

#henry cavill #henry cavill fandom #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fluff #syverson #superaman #geralt

51 notes · View notes

prettyboyspenceee · 4 years

Text

The New Agent - Part 1

A/N: If you’ve been here long enough, you would know that I’ve posted this already. For some reason, I can’t find it on my blog so I’m reposting it!

Request: “Hey, I got an idea for a Spencer x reader story, maybe smth with more than 1 part 😅 Spencer meeting y/n at a book store/reading and they get to know each other pretty well. 2 weeks later y/n shows up the BAU as their new boss and Morgan/Luke starts flirting with her. 😅” - @kind-im-gedankennebel

Description: You meet Spencer at a bookstore when you’re lost in DC. You end up spending a lot of time together... and then something happens.

Character Appearances: Spencer Reid, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, David Rossi, Jennifer “JJ” Jareau, Penelope Garcia, Emily Prentiss

Disclaimer: I don’t own Criminal Minds! If I did, the show would have 20 more seasons.

(Y/N) - Your Name

(Y/L/N) - Your Last Name

Word Count: 1,218

RePosted: April 14th, 2020

---

As you sat in your hotel room preparing material for your final interview while simultaneously trying to get dressed, you groaned. You knew the interview process for a position at the BAU in Quantico was extensive... but you didn’t know that it was this long. You were apart of the group of finalists for the new position on the team and you had planned to be in D.C for 2 weeks and Agent Hotchner had requested you to stay for another week. Even though the interview process was kicking your ass, it wasn't all bad. On your first day in D.C, you were terribly lost and you stopped into a bookstore to gather your bearings, it was there where you met Dr. Spencer Reid, who coincidently worked for the BAU.

You smiled at the memory of your first encounter.

---

"You would expect a bookstore would have a map or something!" you mumbled angrily to yourself. You were stressed, tired and angry. New York City was so much easier to navigate than Washington D.C.

"Excuse me, are you lost?" You turned around to the sound of someone addressing you.

You looked at the man who approached you up and down, hazel eyes, disheveled curly hair and a purple shirt with a purple tie and dress pants. You smiled to yourself, you thought he was kind of cute.

You nodded and chuckled, "Is it really that obvious?"

The mysterious man replied, "Dreadfully so."

"I'm (Y/N). (Y/N) (Y/L/N)." You said sticking your hand out.

"I'm Dr. Spencer Reid," his eyes flicked to your outstretched hand, "I'm really sorry, I don't usually shake hands. Actually, kissing -"

"Kissing passes fewer pathogens than shaking hands," you finished with a smile, "No worries."

Spencer smiled, "If you don't mind, I could show you around the city. It's my day off."

"That would be amazing."

---

You two spent the rest of the day talking endlessly and you were surprised when he asked to see you again. You had told him that you were in town for a job interview but that didn't seem to bother him, Spencer was obviously comfortable around you and you were comfortable around him. After being in D.C for 3 weeks you had spent almost every day hanging out with Spencer. You found it extremely sweet that he went to your hotel room every night after work and took you somewhere new but you were confused. You felt like you were in limbo with Spencer, you weren't sure what your relationship was... you were certainly attracted to him and you hoped he was attracted to you, you knew that you might not stay in D.C but you wanted to try and make things work. You were shaken out of from your train of thought from a knock at your door.

Spencer had told you to dress up and you had no idea why. You smoothed out your dress and opened the door. Spencer was dressed in a white button-down and a pair of black slacks with his classic black converse. As you took in his appearance you wondered how something so simple could look so good.

"Y-you look beautiful," Spencer stuttered, his face slowly turned pink as he took in your appearance.

You smiled and felt the heat rise in your neck, "Thank you. You don't look too bad yourself."

As you and Spencer made your way to a fancy Italian restaurant and you were having a great time. You loved talking to Spencer and just loved being around him. You didn't want this to end.

Halfway through dinner, the BAU was brought up, "Hotch finally chose someone for the position. He was driving himself crazy, I know for a fact he'll probably call them tonight."

Your palms began to sweat, you really hoped you got the position, "I hope they get along with your team. From what you told me, you guys seem like a very close-knit family."

Spencer smiled fondly, "Yeah, we are."

---

After dinner, you two decided to take a walk in the park. Your hands kept brushing against each other and Spencer decided he couldn't take it anymore, he grabbed your hand and you shared a smile.

When Spencer found a park bench you two sat down, " (Y/N), I have a question."

You faced Spencer, "What is it?"

He took a deep breath, "I know we've only known each other for a short amount of time but I feel like I've known you for a lifetime. For the past 3 weeks, there hasn't been a minute where you weren't on my mind. I know you might not be here for too long but I would be over the moon if you would do me the honor of being my girlfriend."

Your eyes were wide, "Spence, I would love to be your girlfriend."

Spencer let out a breath of air he didn't know he was holding. His eyes looked to your lips and then back to your eyes, you smiled and nodded, giving him permission.

Spencer pulled you into a sweet kiss that you wished could last forever. It was one of those kisses that only existed in movies. You broke apart due to the shrill ring of your cell phone.

"Is this (Y/N) (Y/L/N)?" You heard on the other line.

"This is she. How can I help you?" You asked. Spencer looked at you with a confused expression as he listened to the other line.

"This is SSA Aaron Hotchner with the BAU. I understand I've put you through an extensive interview process and I'm sorry that I didn't get the chance to meet with you personally today. I wanted to inform you that you've been hired. Your 5 years with the New York City field office was extremely impressive. Welcome to the team Agent (Y/L/N)."

You looked at Spencer in disbelief, "Thank you so much, sir. I look forward to working with you."

"As do I. Have a good night (Y/N)."

You hung up the phone and shakily put it back in your purse.

"Spencer, I'm so sorry I didn't tell you earlier. I didn't want to get my hopes up and you're hopes up. I completely understand if you don't want to go through with this relationshi-"

He cut you off with a quick kiss, "(Y/N), I am so happy you're the new member of our team. Garcia, Prentiss, and JJ are going to adore you. In fact, Morgan might love you so much, he might try to steal you from me."

You let out a loud laugh, "What does this mean for us?"

"Well, we have to tell Hotch but he won't mind. Rossi can't say anything because he was the reason why the fraternization rule was put in place. The rest of the team will most likely figure it out on their own." He said while playing with your hair.

You hummed, "Now what?"

"Well," he smiled cheekily, "you could grab your stuff from your hotel room and spend the night at my apartment. Just so you can get a head start on work tomorrow and until you find yourself a place."

You gave him a peck on the cheek, "I like the sound of that."

He stood up from the park bench and reached out a hand, "Perfect."

---

256 notes · View notes

kageyamavibes · 4 years

Text

Little Things | Kageyama Tobio

Prev | next

Please ignore the timestamp on the text below

You huffed, tossing your phone over your bag. Kageyama really went from being flustered from your teasing to hitting back with your antics.

Your match was about to start, today was the day of your semi finals and final round for the national qualifiers. His text made you all fired up, not wanting to go home a loser. You'll never hear the end of Kageyama teasing you how you lost.

But you weren't going to lose that easily.

You were Karasuno's pride despite being a first year, almost every single one of your opponents feared you in the field. The announcer had called on the semi finalist on the women's 100 meter sprint, your team mates cheered you on, hyping you even further to win your game. As soon as you were in the starting line, all eyes are on you.

You took a deep breath, inhaling the familiar scent of the sun and field. You focused on the line ahead of you, determined to go off in a blast.

Bang

You sprung on your feet, exhaling sharply as you maintained your rhythm, your legs moving in sync with the wind. You hear nothing but your steady breath and the pounding of your chest. You were in the lead, but you still were determined to win and leave them all behind in dust, pushing yourself even further, with one last spring, you had crossed the finish line first.

You yelled in victory pumping your fist in the air as everyone in your team chant your name, you bowed in gratefulness, you entered the final round at ease but you still weren't taking things easily.

Suddenly one of your opponents tapped your shoulder, you turned around looking at her.

“I’ll beat you in the finals.”

You stared at her, she was determined, she bowed leaving you behind speechless. You smiled to yourself walking away from your opponent, meeting your team mates.

Meanwhile, Kageyama felt alone without you to bug him. He was hanging around with Hinata, checking his phone every single time waiting for an update on your matches. He found himself blushing shoving his phone back to his pocket. Why am I even doing this?

His phone suddenly buzzed, he excitedly took out his phone reading your text message excitedly.

“Was than y/n-san?”

“Yes why?”

“You look so proud.”

“Shut up, boke.”

Hours later, Kageyama rushed out of the class leaving behind his stunned classmates. He looked at the time and it was already 3:15, it was a good thing the field was almost a 10 minute run. He didn’t know why he was eager to watch you from your final match, but he still wanted to go and see you.

He arrived at the venue minutes later, panting hard as he searched for you in the fields. The booming voice of the announcer filled the air, announcing the final 5 contenders of the 100 meter dash finals. At the mention of your name, you can hear the Karasuno track team’s uproar along with Kageyama’s flustered yosh to himself. He looked at you, wearing a determined looked on your face, he felt proud seeing you stand up against Shiratorizawa, Aoba Johsai, Dateko, and Johzenji.

You didn't paid attention to everyone, your mind was focused, too focused on the finish line right in front of you. The whistle blew, signaling the players to their starting position. Everyone was quiet, anticipating the final round. You looked up, your eyes focused on the field in front of you.

Bang

Kageyama quietly watched, his hand clenched in excitement seeing you take the lead, the Johzenji girl was trying to close the gap between you. Even though Kageyama didn't understand much about the sport, he suddenly felt interested when he saw you go on full sprint mode, leaving everyone behind. His mouth fell agape, he was too mesmerized at you.

You were about to cross the finish line when the Johzenji girl still tried to caught up, Kageyama was tensed for a minute, but when you pulled off a little spring dash you aimed for the gold, bagging the spot for the nationals.

You yelled in victory once more, pumping your arms in mid air in excitement. The Karasuno track team surrounded you, hugging you and congratulating you from your victory. You bowed, thanking them for their full support.

"Hey."

You turned around, seeing Karasuno's setter with a smirk on his face. You excitedly dashed to him, hugging him impulsively. You felt Kageyama tense, his body turning hard as a rock. His face was beet red from being too shock from your sudden affection. He was close to malfunctioning any moment now.

"I won! I won, idiot! That's a point for me! Did you see that? I told you I'll whoop their ass!"

Kageyama nodded in response, putting his hand softly at your back. So this is a hug he thought.

"Tobio! I'm going to Nationals!"

"Yes you are."

"So you also have to beat Shiratorizawa's asses so we can both go right?"

Kageyama had a smile on his face, his heart was beating loudly in his chest. He was overwhelmed from your touch, you didn't stopped hugging him. You looked up to him with bright eyes, he can feel himself melting from your adorableness.

"Tobio! I'm so so so happy I could kiss you right now!"

You two blushed madly from your words, staring at each other wide in shock. You felt like an idiot with your words.

Kageyama stared at you, his hand cupping your cheeks before he leaned down planting a gentle kiss you on your lips.

When he realized what he had done, he froze.

"I'm sorry I–"

"It's okay."

"Y/N"

You looked at Kageyama, he was staring at you seriously, his lips pursed. He took a deep breathe before he spoke.

"I think you are the perfect spike whenever I set the ball."

"Huh???"

You stared at him, his cheeks turned pink before he turned his gaze away from you. You were about to question him when you realized what he said. Oh.

"Tobio, I like you."

His eyes went wide, he went giddy for a moment before he grabbed you softly pulling you in an awkward hug.

"I have a little problem though"

"What?"

"I don't know how relationships work, I want to be with you but I—"

"I don't know how either, but we can manage can we?"

You can feel Kageyama's body relax hugging you tighter

"Of course we can."

✩｡:*•.───── ❁ ❁ ─────.•*:｡✩

Taglist: @minaakira @primemigel @mavismalfoy @kageyamasbabygorl @grapesauze

#haikyuu #karasuno #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama imagine #kageyama tobio #kageyama #hinata x kageyama #kageyama au #kageyama x reader #haikyuu kageyama #haikyuu stories #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu!!#haikyuu au #hq headcanons #hq kageyama #hq boys

38 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 10/10 (Taywhora) - Juno

Chapter Summary: The three finalists are just three challenges away from the end of the Bake Off, and the reunion with their fellow competitors, families, and friends at the finale garden party. The Signature and Technicals will be the hardest yet, and the Showstopper will ensure the three finalists bare a slice of their hearts to the country. But who will take the winning cake stand?

A/N: I have been utterly blown away by the support and comments I’ve had for this fic on tumblr and AO3! Huge big thank you to everyone who has cheered me on with this. For ease, the finale and epilogue are in one here (but are split on AO3). I hope to be back soon with some short stuff for rare pair challenge! xo Juno

WEEK 10: GRAND FINALE

Aurora felt like she didn’t sleep all week back in Worksop, and now, the night before she had to take the train down south to film the grand finale, the very idea seemed virtually impossible. Her body and her mind tossed and turned, every time she closed her eyes she saw cakes and breads and pastries and all sorts of things she was sure she’d never have any desire to eat again.

She had no time to think about Tayce, but Tayce had found her way in through the cracks in her mind while she had practised. Gone from the tent, but not gone from her life. And her last act in the tent had been to give Aurora five words that had rung like a melody in her head ever since.

You can win this, bitch.

She reached for her phone in the darkness, and it said it was half past one in the morning. She’d have to get up in three hours to get ready, before she headed out for the train. Lawrence would already be on the sleeper train, and Veronica was probably getting up at around the same time. But as she opened their own three-way chat, she found both Lawrence and Veronica were also messaging at silly time in the morning.

They weren’t sleeping either. Aurora understood why now.

Sure, she’d see Tayce again this weekend at the grand finale garden party. But her departure still replayed in her head.

Why did I end up this reliant on her anyway? I can bake without her. I’ve done it for years!

But this wasn’t just baking. It wasBake Off. It was surreal, intangible. It defied gravity. How many times had Aurora had to anchor herself to Tayce to keep herself from floating away?

Her phone came up with a notification from Lawrence.

Lawrence:why tf ru awake

The irony of Lawrence’s message was not lost on Aurora.

Aurora:your meant to be on the sleeper train Aurora: sleeper Aurora: clue is in the name Lawrence: yh but its stopped Lawrence: we’re in carlisle Aurora: what’s it like in Carlisle x Lawrence: dark

Maybe it was the lack of sleep, but it tickled her far more than it should, and she found herself laughing far too hard at the message.

Aurora: how much ru lookin forward to this bein over now x Lawrence: oh loads babes Lawrence: cant wait to bring that cake stand to Glasgow x Veronica:keep dreaming Lawrence Aurora: unlikely lol x

On second thoughts, the teasing and the laughter were a balm for her worried mind right now, and Aurora found she was laughing more than she had all week at their conversation.

Sleep is overrated anyway.

——

The tent looked huge and imposing, but Aurora was still not at the front to her relief. If Lawrence had gone home last week - not that Aurora had ever expected her to - Aurora thought she would have squirmed at the front under the gaze of the judges. Especially now, with just the three of them left, their voices echoing like a vast cave, all of their heartbeats just sounding amplified as they hammered against their ribs.

It’s the finale. I made it.

Aurora glanced at the two badges she’d won. The same amount as Lawrence, with Veronica having one to her name. But as they’d seen from previous series, the amount of times someone had won Star Baker was not an indicator as to who would win the whole thing. But it certainly gave both her and Lawrence a minor edge, and both of them a swell in their chests.

Everything felt new and fresh. Lawrence had re-dyed her hair, blue this time, the vibrant colour almost a distraction in itself. Veronica had new black nails which she tapped on the workbench, and her roots had been redone. Aurora hadn’t thought to do any of that, so she was pleased to still be at the back.

Her turquoise KitchenAid still glistened like new, the workbench sparkled with the glassy varnish, and the cupboards and shelves around in their pastel colours made the summer air feel all the more fresh and clean. She glanced over at Veronica, her own green KitchenAid in the same state, and Lawrence’s Cadbury purple one too.

I wonder if I can pinch the KitchenAid after filming without the crew noticing.

——

Signature: 12 iced doughnuts - 6 ring, 6 filled

If there was one thing Aurora hated doing, it was piping filling into something as fiddly as a doughnut. They’d have to cool down, be hollowed, and then filled, a really fiddly process.

It was the hardest day in the tent by far. The morning was rainy, light rain that almost felt like it wasn’t there, and the air was sticky and humid, pushing the temperature in the tent up, especially with the deep fat fryers they’d been provided for the doughnuts.

Aurora chewed her lip so hard that it bled, piping mixture, watching them all closely in the deep fat fryer, filling up her jam piping bag and spinning it so tightly that it threatened to burst and cover her in sticky apricot jam.

In front of her, Lawrence groaned a few times as she battled against the heat and the doughnuts as they spat in the fryer, while Veronica was wringing her hands at the dough as it came out of her own fryer.

“Too soft,” she muttered, followed by “God, too hard,” at the next batch.

By the time judging came, with Prue back from her illness this week, Aurora had almost forgotten what she’d flavoured them with, but she wasn’t alone. Across from her, Veronica stuttered as she spoke about her doughnuts, while Lawrence just pushed her hair back at the question.

“Don’t know,” she’d mused to the judges, some of the old humour returning to her voice. “Started making them, had a breakdown, and here they are. Enjoy!”

The judges all laughed, but Aurora caught a glint in Lawrence’s eye, and the same thought passed between them both.

It’s not a lie!

All of them had similar critiques. Unanimously told they had good flavours, good bakes, and good designs, it was becoming virtually impossible to differentiate between them. How were they going to decide a winner?

“How are they going to do this?” Veronica said aloud to the room, as they sat in Norton Hall (not Carr Hall, Aurora said to herself) waiting for the Technical challenge to begin.

“Not a fucking clue.” Lawrence sighed.

“Are any of you thinking about today though?” Aurora asked. “Are you just thinking about the Showstopper tomorrow too?”

Lawrence and Veronica both nodded slowly, none of them looking at each other.

“Are you all … doing the same thing as I am?”

Lawrence and Veronica just continued nodding.

None of them even needed to say a word. They all knew.

——

Technical: Victoria Sponge (no recipe)

Technical sounded daunting at first glance, but Aurora tried to reason with her worried mind. Baking a Vicky sponge from scratch with no instructions? Please. Aurora baked a Vicky sponge twice a month for the local shelter. She could probably have done it in her sleep.

But the pressure cooker of the tent just made everything go up in smoke in her brain.

Her nan’s voice rang in her head for the proportions that she used to use. Two, two, two, and two eggs. But two what? Two cake tins? Two bowls? Two competitors? No, two pounds. When would her nan come into the new millennium and learn that no one talked about measurements in pounds and ounces any more?

“Lawrence?” She leaned forward.

“Alright, babes?”

“How much is two pounds in grams again?”

Lawrence was frowning. “What?”

“Please - just tell me. I know it’s a competition and all -“

“I’m not trying to stitch you up hen, I genuinely don’t know, I don’t use pounds and ounces because I entered the twenty-first century a while back.” Lawrence shook her head, holding her hands up in surrender. “What do you need it for anyway?”

“Recipe,” Aurora said, her already-hammering heart feeling like it could break her ribs.

“What’s up, love?” That was Veronica’s voice. Aurora closed her eyes, wracking her brain, but Lawrence’s voice pierced the gloom.

“How much is a pound in grams, d’you know?”

“Yeah,” came Veronica’s in response, “a pound is about four hundred and fifty grams. Y’know, you can also go the other way. A kilo is two point two pounds. What do you need that for, yours is already whisking?”

“No, Rory’s having a meltdown, and not with the butter.”

Jesus Dawn French Christ, Lawrence.

A hand met her shoulder, and Aurora was astonished to see Veronica at her side.

“You alright, love?”

She held her gaze for a long time, unflinching, but her eyes were softer than ever, and her hand was surprisingly warm and calming as she rubbed Aurora’s shoulder.

“Yeah. Just - this,” Aurora waved her hands, encompassing the whole tent. Maybe that was absurd to an outside observer, but Veronica knew. Veronica understood.

“I looked at your instagram,” Veronica said quietly, “and I know you bake cakes loads, so I know you can knock this one right out of the park, alright? And you know that too. I mean, I can’t remember a thing about making jam now! And I’m probably going overboard with my sugar. But hey, it’s the finale! I can’t be sent home now!”

Veronica shrugged, her face split in a grin that bordered on maniacal, and Aurora had to admit that she had a point. She took a shaky inhale, then let it out.

“Look, I know you miss Tayce,” Veronica dropped her voice even lower, her hand squeezing her shoulder now, “because I’ve missed Tia since alt week. And we know Lawrence is missing Ellie, even though she’d probably rather move to London and take up Morris dancing than admit that.”

“You say that, but I can do that accent, I’ve watched Eastenders,” Lawrence called over her shoulder. “And I won’t be any worse than Dick Van Dyke.”

“We’re all missing everyone,” Veronica said, and Aurora knew she didn’t mean everyone, “but you don’t need Tayce to be able to bake. You can do it on your own. You’ve done it loads before this show, and you’ll do it again!”

“I can’t,” Aurora heard her fear contradict her in a whisper.

“You can,” Veronica said firmly, her gaze now stern. “You can do this.”

Aurora took a deep breath, held for four, and let it out for five.

“I can.”

“That’s it, love,” Veronica said, nodding and starting to walk away.

——

“Here’s to the last time we’re here as a three,” Aurora said, raising her glass along with Lawrence and Veronica. One of the producers had brought in a bottle of champagne, and even though Aurora didn’t really like the bubbles very much - they tickled her nose - she accepted the glass that was poured for her.

“How much does everyone remember about today?” Veronica asked, her arms and legs crossed on the sofa. “Because I can’t remember a bloody thing. I can’t even remember what the judges said about that piece of crap that my Vicky sponge turned out to be. Did I come last?”

“Yeah,” Aurora nodded. “Was nothing in it, though. We were all shit.”

“Speak for yourselves,” Lawrence muttered, a hint of her old mischievous glint back in her eye.

“And tomorrow we’re recording the finale,” Aurora sighed, swirling the champagne. “Five hours in a tent, followed by half an hour break, followed by presenting the Showstoppers, followed by the garden party, followed by our speeches. And then filming three endings. Where one of us wins each time.”

“It’s gonna be worth it by the end, though,” Veronica said brightly.

“Who’s gonna come from your family, Lawrence?” Aurora asked.

“My parents, my cousin Chloe, and my best pal Stinky Pete.” Lawrence grinned. “Can’t wait to see them. And who have you two got?”

“Uhm,” Aurora frowned. “I know Blake’s coming, and my nan, but I thought you could only invite two people?”

“Mine said four,” Lawrence replied. “God, you really can’t count, can you?”

“What about you?” Aurora asked, motioning to Veronica with her glass.

“My mum’s coming and my brother.” She twitched her shoulders. “None of my friends could get time off. Shame, really.”

Aurora nodded, sipping her champagne, trying to hold off on sneezing through the bubbles. “And the others.”

“Can’t wait,” Veronica smiled her usual pinched, nervous smile, her leg jogging. “I’ve missed them all. Tia especially, but I’ve missed them all. I wonder who they all think will win?”

“And Ellie still owes me a tenner for that Puff the Magic Dragon shit that she thought Tayce’s biccies were,” Lawrence mused.

Aurora pursed her lips at Tayce’s name, but pushed it to the back of her mind. What mattered now was not Tayce, but the fact that her eyes were drooping after not having slept the previous night, and the champagne making her head throb.

“Early one?” Veronica’s sigh must have read been a telepathic projection, because they all stood in unison and trailed each other up the stairs to their respective rooms, ready to pass out and begin everything again in the morning.

——

Showstopper: A picnic for a fellow contestant - to include one celebration cake, 12 savoury pastries, and 12 patisserie.

When the three of them had seen the Showstopper for the weekend, right after Tayce’s elimination, they’d all nodded knowingly to each other.

This one has been just …made for us all.

It was obvious. It was blatantly obvious that everything that had happened had been noticed by the producers, and the staff, and everyone with eyes and without them too, that all three of the finalists were missing someone.

Veronica was setting her alarms up, all five of them as usual, before dragging her ingredients from the bag she kept. On her workbench, she’d gently placed a photo Tia had taken of some landscape or other. Lawrence had laid all her ingredients out on a baby pink tablecloth that complimented the purple of her own KitchenAid.

Aurora only had one thing to remind her of Tayce. She’d gone into a charity shop in the week with Blake, looking for something he’d seen in the window, and had found something that Blake had gasped at.

“It’s a Welsh love spoon!” He’d thrust the small wooden spoon into Aurora’s hand, and she’d turned it over and over silently in her fingers, marvelling at the twisting pattern on the handle, curling into a heart shape at the top.

“That’s fate, that is,” Blake had nodded. “You’ve got to get that.”

Aurora set the spoon now on the counter top, resting against her own KitchenAid for now, as she ran back through the timings again in her head, and what she was planning.

The twelve savoury pastries were easy. Puff pastry sausage rolls with added baked beans and cheese. Even if Prue didn’t like baked beans, that was all Tayce seemed to be eating every breakfast time.

Screw what Prue likes. This isn’t for her.

The cake? It had taken some thought. Black Forest gateau with a mirror glaze to top it off, not something she knew if Tayce liked, but something that felt sophisticated and stylish. And the deep purple of the blackberries was a colour that Tayce loved.

The patisserie was the hardest one, but she’d settled on millefeuille, similar to some that she made before for her nan’s seventy-fifth birthday, delicate and decorative, fragile-looking but built to stand tall. Not to mention they tasted so good that the world ceased to exist when someone bit into one.

“It’s like they’re all back here, isn’t it?”

Veronica’s voice was quiet, but happy. Lawrence’s intake of breath was shaky, but she didn’t turn to face her, focusing on her bake.

“You’ve got a tin of baked beans on your workbench, Aurora, it’s so surreal! And Lawrence, you’ve got so much pink on your workbench today.” Veronica motioned to the pink fondant she’d made, pink icing, pink glaze, pink cake filling. Pink and white marshmallows, pink jam … every shade of pink imaginable. Lawrence just gave a snort and shook her head.

It was meant to be the hardest challenge yet, but it definitely didn’t feel that way. The tent heated up with the warm sunshine outside and the combination of ovens and bakers and inside, but as soon as nerves started manifesting, the three of them were all there to diffuse them all for each other.

When Lawrence started dropping her utensils, both Aurora and Veronica were at her side in an instant to grab her hands and calm her down before she started panicking. When Veronica clung to the edge of her workbench, motionless, Lawrence and Aurora were both there beside her to talk her down.

But when the last ten minutes were called …

Shit.

Aurora felt cold fear creep back up her chest. She still had the millefeuille to assemble. She’d done three, but nine remained. And the puff pastry had to come out of the oven. And the glaze needed to be poured over the cake for it to set into a mirror in time -

“Aurora?” That was Lawrence, with Veronica on her heels. “You’re making a squeaky whiny noise like a balloon letting out air. What d’you need?”

“But - ten minutes - your own bakes -“

As Aurora flapped, the other two simply ran round her side and started doing it without needing her to tell them. Soon all her pastries were on the tray, and the cake was out the fridge, the glaze ready to go.

“You pipe, I’ll load,” Veronica muttered, and she did just that, while Lawrence put the cake onto the metal tray, jogging back from her own workbench where she’d had to finish off one of her own patisseries, and as Aurora finished piping the last millefeuille …

“Bakers! You have five minutes on your final Showstopper!”

They were all pulling out the stops, dashing between all three of their benches. Veronica was throwing gold leaf around like it was confetti. Lawrence was covered in icing sugar, the sweet scent filling the air. Aurora poured the deep purple onto the cake, praying to the Monster gods that it would set into a mirror glaze in time …

“Time is up! The final Showstopper has finished! Congratulations, bakers!”

The whole world seemed to crumble at Noel’s words.

Aurora looked at the mountain of food she’d produced, everything that reminded her of Tayce, and she knew then that serving this would mean serving a slice of her heart to the nation. And that was the plan all along.

Everything in her body ached, her bones were hollow, her breathing felt too loud alongside the deafening roar of blood in her ears. But as she leaned on the workbench, surveying the amount of work she’d done, she felt a tickle at the back of her throat, and suddenly she was laughing, so hard that she felt like she’d never stop. And then so was Veronica. Then Lawrence began too.

They were all cackling, all three of them, delirious with delight. Noel and Matt came to congratulate them, clapping as they did so, and then Veronica came out from her bench to hug Lawrence, and Aurora ran to join in, and the three of them were suddenly hugging, laughing, sobbing, cheering into each others’ ears.

Until they were all too weak to speak.

——

Aurora, first alphabetically, was going to be the first out of the tent with her final Showstopper, to make her way to the garden party that was always put on for friends and family for the grand finale.

All her bakes were on an enormous tray and she carried it, with Noel on her left and Matt on her right, all three of them bearing the load. Aurora was flabbergasted that nothing was moving, nothing was falling, but everything was still and settled.

As soon as she stepped outside the tent for the first time, she was met by a blast of noise like heat from a furnace.

Clapping, cheers, whoops, laughter. The crowd at the garden party was friends, family, co-workers, film crew, all the staff of Norton Hall, and of course Blu and Cheryl. She caught sight and sound of her nan - her nan! - her accent and her distinctive nasal voice above the rest of the crowd, bless. And Blake, waving his hands in the air and cupping them to his mouth to howl at the sky.

And the rest of the contestants, waiting with the biggest smiles, with applause, with cheers and shouts that drowned out everything else that was happening.

Tayce was in the centre. And Aurora had never seen her look so happy.

She rested the tray at the table outside the tent behind her name, and stopped, stunned, blinking so many times at the noise and her senses overloading. How green the grass was, how vibrant the gingham pattern on the table, how blue the sky was above her head, how bright and hot the sun felt on her bare arms.

“Go on, Aurora,” Matt muttered, pointing to the crowd. “You can go and see them!”

Aurora walked slowly, the dream she was in making her legs shake. Her feet were resting on air, two inches above the ground, just above the blades of grass. But she somehow made the walk, the whole twenty-foot walk, away from the tent towards them all, dazed by their overflowing love, their cheers and their applause.

Tayce was beaten in the first hug by Hurricane Ellie, swamping Aurora in her arms; and by the time she’d disentangled herself, Bimini was there, leaping forward and rubbing her arms and beaming at her; followed by a grinning Pip, followed by Joe, still cackling. In fact, everyone seemed to get a turn before Aurora was left with just Tayce, waiting patiently, the grin she wore showing all her teeth, her eyes crinkling in happiness.

“Told you you could do it, bitch!”

——

“I made this spread for Tayce,” Aurora began, still cursing that her name was first alphabetically and she was first up on the podium.

Part of the Showstopper this year was a little speech to the crowd at the garden party. It was meant to be a tear-jerker, obviously, for the viewers to have an emotional finale, but it had just served to make all the bakers pull their hair out while writing a speech about which contestant they were baking for, and why.

“I made it for her because Tayce has been my rock throughout the competition. We were on the back row together, we got through all the first challenges together … she corrected me on the name of the hall for God’s sake, I was calling it Carr Hall for ages!”

The polite laughter tinkled around the grounds.

“Tayce has been an inspiration in so many ways. She’s taught me that … that I can channel my worries into the energy that I use to make a cake or a bread or whatever - and that can be fuel for me, to push me forwards. Tayce showed me that they were just a source of power like anything else. She always told me to relax. Well, chillax. And when I did, I rediscovered that I loved baking.”

Aurora couldn’t look at Tayce, even from this distance. Couldn’t see her eyes. If she did she might burst.

Lawrence and Veronica sat on the chairs next to the tent, next to the judges, waiting their turns, while everyone else sat or stood on the grass; but Aurora’s position on the podium, towering over them all, kept eyes trained on her as she gave her speech about her Showstopper, before everyone would come and eat.

“Me and Tayce,” Aurora’s voice cracked. “Well, we didn’t always get along. It’s a competition, and we all have our eyes on the prize, and that pressure of wanting to be the best got on top of us both at times.”

The silence was only broken by birdsong.

“But Tayce taught me that I do my best when I’m relaxed. When I’m loving what I’m doing. She taught me that my thoughts can be my own worst enemy, especially when I’m thinking about other people.” She paused, glancing back at her cue card, the words jumbling before her eyes. “And most of all she taught me that - that I ama great baker. That …”

The lump in her throat was back, the fear creeping up her windpipe to strangle her words. She shook her head defiantly.

“That I am more than capable, that I’m skilled, and that I’m … loveable. She held up a mirror for me. So I made one for her too. Thanks, Tayce.”

More polite laughter, followed by applause, as she indicated the mirror glaze cake.

Finally, she met Tayce’s eyes, and as soon as she did, her own burned with unshed tears, emotion swelling in her like a tidal wave.

But Tayce too, her lip quivered, not even noticing the others around her or their applause. She opened her mouth, and her lips moved, but only for Aurora.

“Love you, bitch.”

Aurora managed to mouth back to her while applause rang in the air.

“Love you, too.”

——

“Ellie’s gonna hate me for this,” Lawrence muttered into the microphone, and Aurora looked over at the crowd, Ellie already shaking with silent laughter with her hands over her mouth. “I made a spread for her. She probably wasn’t expecting it, it rains too much to ever have a picnic outside in Dundee, poor bitch has probably never seen the sun -“

“Lawrence,” Matt Lucas piped up, “just a reminder that this will air before the 9pm watershed.”

“So I can’t say bitch? Fuck’s sake!” Lawrence put her hands on her hips.

Aurora put a hand to her mouth to stop herself from making too much noise, but laughing this much was making tears stream down her face; and Veronica, sat next to her, leaned into her arm, also shaking, stuffing her fist into her mouth to silence herself.

“Anyway, I made all this pink stuff for Ellie. And not just because Team Scotland has to stick together,” she added, as Ellie whooped in the crowd, “but because she really has been the best friend I could have made here.”

Veronica let out a cough that sounded a great deal like ‘sexual tension’ and she and Aurora spluttered with laughter.

“And ignore the peanut gallery over there,” Lawrence motioned to Veronica without even looking. “Because first and foremost, Ellie has been a great friend to me. She sat with me when I was upset when I did something wrong, and she was the first to celebrate anything I got right - even if it was at her expense.”

“Aww,” Veronica murmured next to Aurora.

“I take everything really seriously. I take baking to heart. If I’m not good at something, it freaks me out, because I’m usedto being good at everything I try. Gifted kid syndrome, if you know you know.” Lawrence thumped her chest. “But Ellie just has fun with it all. She taught me that you can have fun with something without necessarily needing to be perfect at it. There isn’t a yardstick of quality to having fun. And even if I’m not good at something, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t worth the time.”

Ellie was now quiet, as the others turned to watch her, but she was only looking at Lawrence, oblivious to everyone around her as the grin on her face quivered with emotion.

“Ellie is fun. And I wanted to make something that would be fun, and also her. That’s why there’s a lot more pink than I’m used to,” Lawrence continued, motioning to the huge pink cake and the pink icing on the choux buns she’d made.

“When I was unsure of myself, Ellie reminded me of what I could do. But she also reminded me that I should be having fun. That’s the reason I made this for her. Because baking should be fun, and should be something you don’t take too seriously. And once I got that, I loved it.”

As everyone applauded again, Lawrence gave the crowd a thumbs up, pushing her hair out of her eyes, looking as if she wanted to get off the podium as fast as possible.

——

“Come on Veronica,” Aurora muttered under her breath.

Veronica looked very short, smaller than usual, even on the podium, the microphone somewhere at her forehead before she adjusted it to her mouth. She licked her lips; her eyes darted to the crowd, to Aurora and Lawrence sat separate to them all, to the judges, and then down to her note paper again.

“Well,” Veronica said for what felt like the fortieth time, another giggle escaping her lips. “Hello, everyone.”

“She’s bombing,” Lawrence muttered.

“She’s just too nervous,” Aurora nodded.

“Right. So. I made this spread for Tia, you know this now, because there’s a sign saying Tea or Coffee on it, I thought that was a nice - erm, a nice touch.”

“God.” Lawrence put a hand to her chest.

Aurora watched as Veronica took a deep breath, held it for a second, and let it out slowly, the silence only interrupted by birdsong.

“I - I’m a perfectionist. If it’s not perfect, I don’t want it. If something is out, even by ten grams, even by a centimetre, I just want to throw it out and never look at it again.”

Veronica repeated the deep breath, clenching the podium, her knuckles white.

“Me and Tia just clicked. We’re quite similar, me and her. We have the same humour, we like the same police dramas and murder mystery documentaries, we both like art and drawing and stuff -”

“Since when does Veronica like drawing?”

“You need to check her instagram page,” Lawrence muttered back, “it’s all artwork.”

“- but the one thing me and Tia didn’t have in common was baking. Tia’s an amazing baker. But something about that tent - as soon as she was in it, she kept making a mess of everything, she won’t mind my saying that; and I know she got really frustrated, but she never wanted to quit. She just always wanted to get better.”

Veronica was tearing up, it was evident even from this distance, her white knuckles shaking. Tia, in the crowd, squirmed for her, clutching Pip’s hand as Veronica fought to get some more words out.

“Tia taught me that it’s fine to make mistakes.”

Another long pause.

“Not that - I don’t mean that Tia is always making mistakes! She does a lot of stuff really great! But she taught me that being perfect is basically impossible. And that I can trust myself if something goes wrong, that I can trust myself to be able to fix it, and not just give up.”

Tia dabbed her eyes with her free hand, shuffling nearer to Pip, who had a hand on her own chest in sympathy.

“Because she doesn’t give up. She just wants to do better. And I love that about her. I wish I’d put less pressure on myself when I first got in there, trying to be perfect at everything, instead of trying to be my best, and getting better by making mistakes.”

Veronica finally seemed to be settling, the rare smile appearing.

“She showed me that making mistakes is fine, and it doesn’t mean I’m a failure, it means I’m a person. And she - her bakes were amazing, and lovely, and she’s such a genuine person that everyone in the tent fell in love with her. Well,” she paused, looking up, “I did.”

Tia’s jaw dropped as she clutched at her chest, leaning into Pip at her side, tears falling freely down her face now as the rest of them clapped, while Veronica’s smile widened, her own tears falling too.

“That’s so …” Aurora murmured, not realising she was holding Lawrence’s hand.

“… cheesy,” Lawrence muttered, but her voice had a crack in it.

——

Aurora’s nan got the first hug when she went over to her family. Her best friend Blake had the second, patting her heavily on the back.

“So which one is the one you made all the cake for then?” Her nan motioned to the crowd of contestants, who had been mostly all mingling together, now breaking off to sit with the crew and each other.

“Tayce is - oh, she’s here.”

Tayce, appearing from somewhere, plonked herself on the grass by the picnic blanket and helped herself to a sausage roll. “Oi oi, saveloy! Oh, these look nice! You put baked beans in them?” Tayce grinned. “You know me like the back of your hand, Rory!”

“Beans on toast was your go-to breakfast, wasn’t it?”

“Oh god, yeah,” Tayce nodded. “Breakfast of kings! The only breakfast! If I could have beans on toast for the rest of my life, I’d die happy. A bit flatulent, but happy.”

She looped her arm through Aurora’s waist, planting a kiss on her lips, before picking up a pastry, leaving Aurora floating just a little from the contact.

“So are you two dating now?” Blake asked, his eyes wide as saucers, hoping for gossip as usual.

Aurora met Tayce’s gaze; they hadn’t really discussed anything official yet. Tayce’s smile was strangely shy, and her eyes earnest, a thousand questions behind them; but as they both nodded simultaneously, it felt like they could work out the details a little bit later.

“Yep!” They both exclaimed at the same time.

Tayce reached down and grasped Aurora’s hand. “And you’re the first to hear about it - not the tabloids, not Hello magazine!”

“You’re not just putting it on for the cameras, are you?” Aurora’s nan teased, wagging her finger at the pair of them.

Tayce turned to glance at Aurora, the same thought passing between them both.

“No way,” they both said at the same time, to a snort of laughter from Blake.

There had been a time, not too long ago, that Aurora might have taken the question as a cue to overthink, overanalyse - but that thought didn’t even exist any more. Instead of being like ducks, kicking to stay on the surface, they now just floated effortlessly.

Aurora just squeezed Tayce’s hand.

Everything was falling into place.

——

“Taking into account your final bakes, and your performances throughout the series, we’ve made our final decision.”

Aurora’s left hand was numb; Lawrence was cutting off the circulation to it.

They all stood before the judges, filming the first of the three endings to keep the actual winner a secret from everyone. This would be Aurora’s win; they’d then film Lawrence’s and finally Veronica’s. For now, they all stood in line; Aurora at Lawrence’s right and Veronica at her left.

Prue held the cake stand, the Bake Off emblem engraved in the glass, all of them in a line waiting for the decision, while the crowd stood impatient, ready to put on a show to congratulate them all.

“You’re all incredible bakers, the best in the UK,” Prue continued from Paul’s speech, “and this was the most difficult season by a long way to judge. You’re all so skilled, imaginative, and clever, and I know you’ll all go on to amazing things after this is over.”

Lawrence’s hand was shaking in Aurora’s; and she could hear Veronica’s breathing on her other side.

This is it.

“The winner of the Great British Bake Off is …”

Complete silence.

Even the birdsong had waned in the background.

A silence that seemed to last an eternity.

Aurora watched Prue’s mouth, wondering when she would open it again, put them all out of their misery, Veronica’s breath audible through the silence and Lawrence’s hand sweating in hers and Aurora’s heart must be the loudest thing in the whole country right now at the rate it hammered her ribs -

——

EPILOGUE

October 2021

Tayce had had to let Aurora go for Blu to wield the camera at the three finalists on the smallest of the neverending number of sofas in Pip’s sister’s house. Lawrence in the middle of the three, all squashed together on what was really a two-person sofa, but they’d all linked arms and interlocked their fingers, staring at the screen, watching themselves.

“I’m never gonna get used to being on screen,” Tia mused, shaking her head. “I swear I don’t sound like that.”

“You do, you definitely do.”

But Tia was only half paying attention to Tayce’s words, her attention on Veronica, who was ignoring her, staring enraptured at the screen. Lawrence, on the other hand, kept glancing over to see Ellie, both of them doing that strange thing they did in filming yet again, just able to know when the other was looking over at them to make sure they were alright.

Tayce tried to relax, hands in her lap, but her chest fluttered every time she met Aurora’s gaze.

The finale had been Tayce’s favourite episode to watch, simply because she hadn’t been in it. The element of surprise was there as she watched it, although it was there for all of them, because there the finalists were, on the screen, still waiting for the winner to be announced.

It must be between Aurora and Lawrence. Veronica only has one badge; it probably won’t be her.

“The winner of the Great British Bake Off is …”

The painful zoom of the camera on everyone’s faces. Aurora’s nervous smile, pure yet heartbreaking. Lawrence looking at the sky to stop herself from crying, both her hands occupied by another finalist. Veronica, her stare intent with anticipation, chewing her bottom lip.

“Aurora!”

The room erupted.

Cheryl was jumping up and down, the first at the sofa to hug Aurora as she sat still as a statue, hands at her mouth and eyes agape in shock, as Lawrence pulled her tightly to herself, planting a delighted kiss in her hair.

“It’s you!” Veronica shrieked, shaking her knee, “it’s you! You won! You won the whole thing!”

And then everyone else streamed in to hug her. Pip was first - Pip was always the first to lay a comforting hand - Tia was close on her heels - Ginny’s hands looped round her neck from behind and their eyes crinkled in joy - but Aurora still sat frozen, only her rapid blinking suggesting anyone was home at all.

Tayce felt time stop again, but this time in a moment of perfection and not defeat.

The contest environment evaporated, she couldn’t fathom feeling anything but pure elation for Aurora’s win, couldn’t fathom having felt any other way for this wonderful woman who she was lucky enough to now call her girlfriend, sat with her hands at her mouth and silent tears coursing down her face as Blu pointed a camera at it.

“Aurora! It’s you! It’s you!” Blu was patting her knee while the rest of them excitedly hugged and squeezed at her. “Do you have any words for us right now, or is it a bit overwhelming?”

“It’s - what - I can’t believe it!”

Aurora’s phone was buzzing on the dining room table, undoubtedly hundreds of friends and family calling and texting and tagging her in Instagram posts and tweets, congratulations spilling over from every direction, an outpouring of love and support and adoration.

The programme was still running, footage of Prue and Paul giving their final summaries of Aurora, and the other two finalists - other contestants giving sound bites - Aurora’s finalist speech as her face was red with tears - the where are they now segment starting to play for all the contestants.

Pip back at her day job, giving the camera a thumbs up, followed by a snap of her with Ginny at Blackpool Tower and a video of them both on the Big One. Joe reliving that Instagram video again, and clips of Cherry, Ellie and Asttina all trying to recreate it too. Cherry back at the dog-grooming business she worked for, and walking her own dog. Asttina back at the gym, followed by a photo of her and Bimini on a boat on the Thames. Bimini at their laptop, followed by pictures of them holding the childrens’ book they’d written since the show. Ellie’s move to Glasgow, a clip of her dyeing Lawrence’s hair back to the bright purple it was now. Tia and Veronica somewhere in the Lake District, windswept but with smiles a mile wide.

But Tayce didn’t see or hear any of it. Aurora was the only thing she could see.

And as she stumbled towards Tayce, draping herself into her arms and laughing in delight, Tayce held her as tightly as she could, crushing her eyes shut but not stopping her own tears, her heart bursting for Aurora as she was privileged to share this moment of exhilarated happiness with her …

She’s already a Star Baker. She doesn’t need a badge or a title.

But she’s got both now! And hopefully she can know that she’s a Star Baker as much as we all do!

——

THE END

#rpdr fanfiction #down with the recipe #rpdr uk #juno #uk2 #baking au #gbbo au #taywhora #tayce #a'whora #bimini bon boulash #veronica green #lawrence chaney #ellie diamond #ginny lemon #asttina mandella #tia kofi #fluff #lesbian au

4 notes · View notes

drowning-in-dennor · 4 years

Text

Awarded

The Prix draws to a close, and it is time for the dancers to reap the rewards of their week of hard work. [A continuation of this.]

As the rest of the dancers finish up their variations, Henrik takes his friend (or are they boyfriends now?) down to the theatre cafe. They split a chocolate muffin, stuck in their costumes and stage makeup until the prize-giving ceremony is over. Stellan clearly has forgotten about this fact, because halfway through eating, he gets a smear of dark chocolate across his cheek. He glares at Henrik while getting a napkin to wipe it off.

“Who do you think are going to be the prize winners?” Henrik asks.

“The Prix’s been all that’s on my mind this past seven days. Can we talk about something else?”

“Okay then.” He racks his brains for a topic. “What if you told me about yourself?”

Stellan gapes at him. “What?”

“We literally kissed each other ten minutes ago, and I don’t know anything about you that isn’t related to dance.” Henrik leans forward. “Where in Norway are you from? What’s your favourite colour? I want to learn about the guy behind the dancer.”

Setting down his mug of coffee, he answers, cheeks slightly pink, “I live in Trondheim, and I’ve only left three times — twice for summer intensives in Stockholm and Oslo, and once for this. Um…” Stellan pauses for a moment. “My favourite colour is blue. Now you answer those questions.”

Henrik smiles and nibbles at his muffin. “I live in Odense and I go to the branch of the Royal Danish Ballet School there. And my favourite colour is red.” Then he prompts, “ask me some questions.”

He takes another drink from his mug. “Let’s see.” He blinks up at him, big blue eyes captivating as always. “Do you have any siblings other than Berwald?”

“Nope, he’s the only one. He’s a total weirdo who was pretty much useless this week, but I would die for him. How about you?”

“I have a younger brother, too. Harald is twelve and trains at my studio with me.” Stellan blinks. “I brought the topic back to dance again. I’m sorry.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Henrik folds up his muffin wrapper. “It’s my turn to ask, anyway. What’s your favourite subject in school?”

“I’ve always loved literature, and sometimes I consider being an author as a second job. How about you?”

“My favourite subject is music,” Henrik says. “I always thought it was a bit boring until I started learning the cello.”

That gets his attention. “You play the cello?”

“I’m not very good at it, since I’ve only been playing for two years, but yeah.”

“I’d love to hear you play one day,” Stellan adds.

He can feel his cheeks prickle with heat. “Thanks.”

“It’s my turn to ask..” Stellan thinks for a moment. “When’s your birthday? Mine is the seventeenth of May.”

“My birthday is on the fifth of June,” he replies. “They’re not too far apart.”

After that question, the two of them fall into an easy silence. Henrik goes on his phone, occasionally glancing up at Stellan. He’s stunning even when idle, one dainty hand playing with his fine soft hair while he watches something on his phone. Henrik gets away with looking at him until an alarm suddenly goes off.

The sound makes them both jump. Stellan turns off the alarm and drains his mug of coffee. “The prize-giving ceremony is in five minutes.”

He already knows he won’t be getting an award. Surely, that honour will go to another of the twenty finalists. But no matter — being a finalist isn’t half-bad, either. Henrik wipes his mouth and follows his fellow dancers towards the stage area.

They line up in two rows, facing the jury as well as the many people below the stage. The Prix’s artistic director is giving a speech of some sort, a thick stack of envelopes — each one containing a prize — in her hands. She passes them to the head of the jury, and he begins by announcing the winner of the “Best Swiss Candidate” award — that goes to 101, Erika Zwingli.

Two more prizes are given away before the main event starts. The head of the jury takes the envelope holding the name of the eighth scholarship winner.

Eighth place goes to Sandor, who half-stumbles his way towards centre stage. He clearly wasn’t expecting to win a prize. His shocked smile rivals the spotlight shining above them in brightness.

Seventh, sixth, fifth and fourth place are announced, but none of those titles go to either of them. But then the artistic director reads off the third-place winner: “Stellan Grieg, dumber 407!”

He rushes out to bow to the audience’s cheers, practically glowing beneath the lights. Stellan takes the envelope that proves his talent and goes to stand next to the rest of the prize winners.

After the second and first prizes are awarded, the curtains close. Everyone drops their composed masks and rush to congratulate the winners. Henrik approaches Stellan, sweeping into a mock-bow. “I knew you could do it.” He tires to press down the disappointment welling up inside him.

“I wish you could’ve won a prize too.” Stellan runs his fingers over the envelope. “Your performance really was nice.”

“Too bad they’ve got that rule,” Henrik agrees. “Imagine how much of a power couple we’d be if we were both prize winners.”

“We can still be a power couple.” Stellan places his hand on his arm, playing with the golden sequins on the sleeve. “Seeing how you’re the only Danish candidate here, I’d say you’re the best the nation has to offer.”

He grins. “So you admit I’m good?”

“Well…” He half-pouts up at Henrik.”I suppose you’d have to have a bit of talent to make it to the finals.”

“Aw, that was almost a compliment.”

“Don’t expect any more.”

Somewhere across the stage, one of the prize winners bursts into laughter, her arm around a finalist’s shoulder. Henrik speaks above them. “Well, the finalists get prizes too.”

“If I remember correctly, you get a cash prize, right?”

“And bragging rights.” He momentarily gets distracted by the sight of his brother emerging from backstage, looking around in search of somebody. “I’m a special finalist, though, so I also won a boyfriend.”

That gets a smile from Stellan. “A prize like that comes with a lot of perks. Let me demonstrate.”

Before Henrik can question anything, Stellan grabs his wrist and pulls him down for a kiss.

…

The Prix is over. Everyone is saying their goodbyes, snapping photos left and right. Henrik finds Stellan sitting by a window, trembling slightly while bundled up in a scarf.

“Don’t have a jacket?”

“Left it at the hotel.” He rubs his arms. “And I can’t dance to warm up.”

Henrik sits next to him and wraps an arm around his waist. Outside of the studio, he hardly looks like a glacial ice prince. The tip of his nose is red and his hair ruffled, and he’s never looked so adorable.

Wordlessly, Stellan nuzzles up to him. “You’re warm.”

His heart skips a beat when he places his head down on his shoulder. “Which school are you planning to choose?”

Stellan plays with the tassels on his scarf. “I have a month to make my choice, but my teacher and I have already decided.” He raises his head and looks at Henrik. “We both agree I’d do best at the Royal Danish Ballet School.”

“The Royal — “ He starts. “That’s my school.”

“Yes, that’s quite obvious.” He pokes Henrik in the nose. “And I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking that I’m so sweet, picking this school just to spend time with you. But I’ll have you know I didn’t just choose the Royal Danish because you go there.” Stellan places his head back on his shoulder. “My teacher wants me to keep training in the Bournonville method, and your school is the best place for that. Your happening to go there as well was merely a secondary factor.”

Henrik presses his nose to Stellan’s forehead. “If you say so. I’m still excited to be training alongside you, though.”

“As am I.” He takes Henrik’s hand. “We won’t be apart for long, too. I’ll see you in person again this September.”

“Oh, don’t talk about separating just yet.” He dares to kiss the crown of his head. “Your flight is at one, so we still have a few hours together. I want to make the most of them.”

#aph dennor #APH Denmark #APH Norway #aph fanfiction #my writing #ballet au #the dennor arc is done!!!#get ready for the sufin one next

11 notes · View notes

druddigoon · 4 years

Text

prompt fill #1

@shame-cubed: bede and gloria in a raid together

this was supposed to be a simple one but then i decided to add 3 more people and a metric fuckton of tension and it kinda blew up. word count: don’t worry about it

————————-

“Where’s the dynamax pokemon?”

He eyes you with a mask of disdain, attention briefly flitting to the vikavolt you have buzzing over your shoulder. “Not an issue, no thanks to you.”

“There’s been reports of energy flares in almost every gym, so it took a bit of time to get here.” You pause to catch your breath, removing your beret to run a hand through your windblown hair after a harrowing flight over the Tangled Woods. Dangling under a vikavolt fifty metres off the ground doesn’t do well for vertigo. “I’m here to help. There’re other people coming, just show us where the pokemon’s at and we’ll calm it down.”

There’s muffled banging at the main entrance, a drawn-out holler cut off with a sharp rebuttal. Hop and Piers. Bede’s voice ices over. “Then go play hero for the other towns. We don’t need you here.”

The nerve of him. “I don’t know if you’ve stuck your head out of your little me-bubble yet, but people are trying to save the region from collapsing, and maybe if you stop babying your ego for just one second you’d accept help when help is offered—”

“I believe Bede is suggesting he’s already dealt with the issue.” Opal cuts in, stepping out from under the shadow of the backroom. She looks the same since your gym challenge—angular face drowning amid her ample ruff, deceptively leaning on her umbrella-cane like she isn’t capable of throwing it away in a heartbeat—but it’s the way Bede stands straighter and draws closer to her presence that has you thrown.

This is not the Bede in Galar Mines, not the Bede in Hammerlocke, tired and disgraced; this is not the Bede at Wyndon semifinals, desperate for redemption. This is the Bede who’s found his home, confident and grounded when you’ve had the rug swept from under your feet.

The gym challenge changes people, they say.

(You’ve never felt more alone.)

“Miss Opal! We’re here to help you with the dynma—” Hop skids to a stop once he notices Bede, and the way they size each other up reminds you of fights between wild pokemon.

Coming here was a mistake.

“Evenin’, ma’am.” Piers brings up the rear, eyes glued to his rotom-phone, unheeding toward the palpable tension in the room. “Dynamax readin’s gone, I reckon you’ve got it taken care of then.”

“Why yes, my protégé handled the rogue shiinotic brilliantly a little while before you came.”

Bede smirks at her praise; you lay a hand on Hop's shoulder to stop him from pulling anything, only to have him roughly shrug it off and stalk out of the building.

“I wouldn’t bother with him,” Bede says as you stare at the still-swinging doors, something close to shame prickling deep in your throat. “Someone who thinks he's entitled special treatment because his brother’s the champion doesn’t deserve to take his spot.”

Deep breaths. Opal watches you with hawk’s eyes, and for a second you feel more bone than flesh, surrounded. Think of secret summer grottos, ponds with water so clear the remoraid’s scales gleam as they swim through, think of how happy Crustle was when his crabapple tree bloomed, maybe wiping that smarmy expression off Bede’s face even though you can’t throw a punch to save your life.

When you dare to speak again, your voice comes out lowed like a hiss from a boiling kettle. “If you’re so good at dealing with dynamax pokemon, I’d like to see you handle the rest of this problem.“

“I fail to see how the rest of the gyms fall under my jurisdiction. We’ve dawdled for long enough, it’s time—”

“He’ll do it.”

“—for you to...what?”

You’d savour the look of disbelief on Bede’s face if the implication of Opal’s comment didn’t sink in. She regains control of the situation with a smile, too pleasant for the gravity of her words. “It must be difficult for the three of you to handle all of this on your own. These bones are too old to hitch a ride on unlicensed fliers, but Bede here can accompany you while I guard the gym.”

Bede runs a hand through his hair, considering.

“Fine,” he bites out, releasing his gardevoir before striding out the entrance. You quickly jog after him, hoping to reach Hop before he does. “Let’s go.”

“—very keen on addin’ fuel to the fire.” Piers comments far behind you.

“They’ll sort it out,” Opal replies, “Sometimes all it takes is getting a little burnt.”

————————-

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” Hop gapes at the skulking figure of Bede from his perch atop his corviknight, an imposing bird outlined in scintillating angles against the dead of night. “Glor, please tell me you’re joking.”

“He wanted to come. You...we need all the help we can get, and having him just means we can get this done faster and safer. Please. This is for the greater good.”

“Are you siding with him now? Is this what it is? This is a bloody insult to injury, Glor. Do you remember what he’s done to you? Do you remember what he’s done to me?”

“I’m not taking anyone’s side! You can choose to never see Bede again after this is over, Hop, it’s just that we have a bigger issue at hand and everyone’ll need to put aside their difference until we can stabilize the region.”

“I know, but I'm a hundred percent sure that we. Don’t. Need. Him.” He punctuates every word with a jab of his finger in Bede’s direction. “We were fine in Turrfield. We were fine in Hulbury. We were fine in Motostoke, we were fine in Stow-On-Side. We’re almost done, we’d just finish everything with more peace of mind if he buggers off.”

Bede crosses his arms. “Flattered you think so highly of me. Honestly, Hop, you’re desperation is showing. Worried that I’ll steal your thunder?”

“Guys, please—”

Hop’s corviknight lets out an ear-piercing screech, rearing up and flapping its wings in a way that forces the rest of you to back up. Bede’s gardevoir steps in front of him, her horn glowing with the beginnings of psychic energy.

“ENOUGH!” A dark shape, too fast to make out, cleaves between the two boys, the acrid smell of something sour lingering behind.

Piers steps out, followed closely by his obstagoon, the vestiges of a night slash still roiling off its foreclaws. “This isn’t what I was expectin’ from a finalist and a gym leader, and you two ought be ashamed of yourselves for this kind of behavior.” He sighs heavily, rubbing his temples. “I need a smoke break. Gloria, come with me.”

————————-

“Marnie told me you lot were good kids.” Piers takes a slow drag of his cigarette. You fidget with the hem of your skirt, sneaking peeks at the clearing even though neither of the boys are in sight. “So imagine my surprise when I end up babysittin’ two kids who look one second away from tearin’ each other’s throat out, with you actin’ like you’re the reason they want to.”

“I am.” The floodgates burst all too easily; you never expected to pour your heart out to a near-stranger, fraying dye job illuminated in the harsh glare of the street lamp and wreathed in a halo of cigarette smoke, but lately all your friends have been worse than strangers and Piers. Piers sits still and listens. “I-I never wanted to do...this. The championship is always Hop’s dream, and I promised to help him get it like a friend before pulling it out from under him. Could’ve supported him after Bede broke his spirit—he said he was a disgrace to Leon’s name, even though he isn’t even relevant—but instead I decided to hammer it in by battling him and winning.”

You shut your eyes, grind the heel of your palms hard onto them until you’re seeing stars. “I saw Bede’s disqualification. I was there to see the hope go out of him when Rose told him he no longer worked for them, was there and did nothing. I’ve done nothing but shirk and shirk, and now i’m supposed to stabilize Galar’s dynamax outbreak when I can’t even lift a finger for the people closest to me.” Bitter smile. “Some champion I am.”

Piers huffs. He drops the cigarette, crushing its embers under the heel of his boot, before looking up and speaking. “I don’t know enough to say it’s not your fault, but you’re takin’ your mistakes out of proportion.”

“Spikemuth’s never been my dream; most people don’t end up doin’ the thing they want, believe it or not. This may not be yours and yet you’re tryin’, and you’ve got heart. I doubt a bad champion would be risking her life travelin’ from town to town confrontin’ rampagin’ pokemon like you are now.”

“That...still doesn’t make me a good champion.”

“No, it doesn’t.” He stands, brushing off lingering ash. “But Galar doesn’t have a ‘good champion’. It has you. And even if you can’t redeem yourself in the eyes of your friends, you can redefine yourself in everyone else. Come, let’s head back.”

You return to the same silent standstill you left. Hop can’t meet your eyes, face buried in the feathers around his corviknight’s neck. Bede only stares back; a challenge.

“Which cities do you have left?” he asks.

Piers checks. “Only Circhester and Hammerlocke, it looks like.”

“We’ll split up, then,” Hop interjects, not even looking up. “Piers and I’ll go to Circhester, while Gloria and Bede go to Hammerlocke.”

“That’s fine,” you concede after a moment’s pause. He’s trying to distance himself from you, but can you blame him?

(You can’t, not really. This must be a nightmare situation for him—losing to the false heirs, failing to catch them, fighting alongside his former-friend-now-champion knowing he could’ve been the one in her place, watching her strike the final blow as his cinderace heals on the sidelines. Every reminder is driving a nail in the coffin, and Bede’s arrival is simply the stake that split it at the seams.)

“Best of luck to you, then.”

“Good luck to you too.”

————————-

“Everything you’ve said to Hop applies to you, y’know.”

“Are we really going over this now?” The Hammerlocke gym halls are far too empty for comfort, deep rumbles echoing against your skull as you catch flashes of light past stadium doors. You stalk onward, eager to get the situation over with and return to Ballonlea. Damn Opal. “We have a bigger issue at hand.”

Out of the corner of your eye you see Gloria puff out her cheeks. If someone were to back you into the corner of an alley with a knife pressed to your throat, you’d admit you do respect her; becoming the Champion is no easy feat, and nobody expected it from a quiet girl with a team full of bugs, the beginner’s route fodder others grind to train their battlers. It’s her altruism that irritates you, a relentless selflessness that will get her bitten, somewhere down the line. “Can’t you accept help without fighting it?”

You fall silent.

Oleana’s voice, ice against your ear. “Is this how you’ll treat the man who found you, back when you were all alone?”

(More wishing stars. Always more wishing stars.)

A rattling roar resounds ahead. Sensing she’s needed, Hattie coalesces by your side with a chiming noise, and you continue on, pushing past reinforced double doors. “The last person who offered me help was Rose.”

And look where it got me.

The dynamaxed haxorus is huge; its scythe-like tusks crest above the open roof of the arena, claws as large as longswords carving deep furrows into the turf, an excess of power and energy given a corporeal form while the haxorus’s original body is tucked away behind layers of shields. An entire section of bleachers had been razed to the ground, steel gouged with millions of tiny lacerations that fractal in draconid energy. Gloria finally shut her mouth, calling out her crustle as you start putting distance between you and her. The flash of light catches the haxorus’s attention.

Its eyes are impossibly wide—a deerling in headlights, more prey than predator—and when it roars, it's a pained cry pitched like a plea.

The raid begins.

Gloria fights like battling is innate to her, instinct ingrained through bone in a way no amount of textbook memorization or controlled-environment training can hold a candle to. Bugs are notoriously more id than superego; rather than suppressing it, hers seem to have tailored their natural behavior towards battling, where her commands are less commands than they are suggestions, tips, and warnings, a coach to her players. She trusts her pokemon, and they make it worthwhile. It makes her incredibly hard to read, as most of the time she isn’t even giving instructions.

Helpful in a singles matchup, not so much in a tag-team battle.

You hear her call out from the other end of the stadium, and her crustle withdraws into its shell just fast enough to dodge the brunt of Hattie’s dazzling gleam. In the split second when the haxorus is sent reeling, it pulls off a shell smash, darting out of its shell in a blur of orange to land a stone edge that shatters the haxorus’s shields.

It keeps up the distraction long enough for Hattie, slow as she is, to charge up another dazzling gleam. The stadium lights up in a brilliant light display as it explodes against the haxorus’s side, sending it reeling. Crustle is also sent flying a couple metres back before getting back on its feet, the exoskeleton of its claws warped from where it used to to block the worst of the attack.

“Stop hitting me!” Gloria calls.

“Then dodge out of the way! Hattie can’t avoid you without compromising her output!”

Haxorus finally notices you, letting out a bellow as its tail warps into something steel-tipped, sharp with metallic ridges gleaming crimson in the dynamax light, before swinging the entire thing towards you.

Of course. Bloody thing knows steelspike.

Your back collides with the stadium walls before you realize there’s nowhere to run. Damn Opal. Couldn’t make do with just the shiinotic. Hattie matches the haxorus with her own war cry, energy streaming through her coat in a last-ditch attempt at damage.

In the span of a split second, something orange collides with the tail, knocking it off track.

Then the world flashes white.

When you finally regain your vision, the haxorus is back to its regular size and barely conscious, keeling over onto the ground. Hattie twirls, unscathed save for shards of steel tangled in her hair.

You could hardly recognize it without its boulder shell, but buried in the sand beside her was the fainted body of Gloria’s crustle, who’d taken the brunt of the steelspike.

“What was that?” You ask Gloria, who had recalled the fallen haxorus into its gym-issued pokeball.

She crouched next to her crustle, checking it for injuries before withdrawing it as well. “Crustle blocked its attack. Don’t worry about him; he’s tough, and I’ll reward him with extra fertiliser to his favorite tree after this.”

“Hattie could’ve take—” You stop, because no, she wouldn’t, before amending “It’s unnecessary. Crustle could’ve utilized the chance to get its last hits in.”

“He might’ve missed. This gave us the best chances of winning, and he wanted that. Wouldn’t have followed my order if he didn’t. Also...Hattie?”

“Stop changing the topic. You’d let it throw itself into the path of danger for a chance?”

“Yes.”

She looks a little dejected, but doesn’t push like he expects her to. Nobody gives charity for free; he’s learned this through his multiple orphanage relocations, Rose’s too-large watch, Opal’s quest for an heir. His mind is quick to point fingers at pity, just like the others, but he can smell pity a mile off and Gloria’s never been the type for it, not to him.

Why?

“Isn’t this a betrayal to Hop?”

Her face steels over. “He doesn’t have to like anything I do. He’s not here, and this isn’t about him.” It’s a far cry from Stow-On-Side, her fury on Hop’s behalf. You’ve noticed the two seem more distant lately. The gym challenge changes people, they say.

The outside air is cool on your face. Gloria’s vikavolt has its claws latched onto her backpack, carrying her in what you’d describe as the most dangerous method of flying and you still don’t understand, why why why why why?

“Gloria?”

She glances back at you, head tilted slightly to the side. Your question dies in your throat.

“Stay safe.”

She looks at you strangely. “T-thanks. Stay safe too.”

You watch until her figure becomes a dark speck on the horizon before heading home, alone.

#bede: why would she do this #gloria: because i care?#bede: truly a mystery #drudwrites #june prompt fills

19 notes · View notes

starcountesseevee · 3 years

Text

A Rocket Coincidence (Part 7)

Part 6 / Part 8

It would be mid-afternoon before the rest of the matches would be wrapped up but Kali had decided to stay close to the stadium so when the finalists were announced she would be nearby to see them, although she had a sinking feeling she wasn't going to be moving forward. The only stop she made was to the Nurse Joy hospital at the Pokecenter to turn over her Eeveelutions for healing before it got too crowded. It seemed, however, she wasn’t the only one who had that idea; as she was entering she saw Lance handing over some pokeballs to Nurse Joy as well. She steered clear of him but if looks could kill Kali was sure she would have been dead. Fortunately there seemed to be enough people nearby that he held his temper.

Being in town for a competition Kali had felt confident enough to leave all her Eeveelutions with Nurse Joy for the night. There wouldn't be any wild Onix crashing through the woods here she would have to defend against and battling outside the competition was strictly prohibited. Meaning Cliff wouldn't be able to challenge her again here she laughed to herself. Although his attitude seemed to have changed once he was aware she wasn't on a team. Typical leader for you.

Kali was about to find a seat in the stadium to watch the last few matches but a familiar face caught her attention. Maddie was waving at her but this time she wasn’t with her brother.

“Hey! How’d you do?” Maddie was bubbly as always and didn’t wait for Kalysta to respond before continuing. “I lost all three of my matches unfortunately, there are some really great trainers here! But oh well, that just means I have to train more and come back again!” Kali couldn’t help but admire the girl’s outlook. “Were you gonna watch the last matches? You should come sit with us!” Maddie motioned for her to follow. Kali had assumed the younger girl had meant Noah when she said ‘us’ but instead found herself sitting with two other girls that looked about Maddie’s age and were all, surprise surprise, on Team Instinct. Maddie had Kali confirm that yes Spark had indeed hugged her and when they all began giggling Kali felt like an old lady. Maybe not quite old enough to be their mom, Kali mused, but definitely an older sister, much older sister.

After the last match Kali waved Maddie and her friends on as she hung back. She watched the stadium empty as she waited for the match results to be announced. When her group was finally displayed it was as she expected, with only four points she did not move on to the finals. Kali took a deep breath, allowing herself a few moments of disappointment before getting up. It was getting close to dinnertime but she wasn’t really hungry. Instead she wandered around the vendor stalls, picking up a couple souvenirs to bring back for Mara, until the sun began setting.

Several of the vendors were beginning to close up as the street grew less crowded. Kali checked the time knowing she should probably be heading back to the dormitory but instead found herself wandering through the empty pre-screening courts, she wasn’t ready to go back and listen to Maddie’s chatter quite yet. She was about to text Mara when a rustling from the other end of one of the courts caught her attention. Two teenagers darted out, laughing as they ran towards the main road. Clearly Kali’s presence had interrupted their little rendezvous.

“Yeah, that’s her.” Kali turned at the new voice. Lance was sauntering up the path trailed by two other boys, a malicious smile on his face. She crossed her arms over her chest and raised a brow as she waited to find out what all this was about.

“You know, I’m here to prove to Team Rocket that I’m good enough to join them and you made me look weak.” Lance took a few steps closer as the other two hung back.

“Looks like you don’t need my help to do that.”

“Think you’re still so tough, huh? Even without your pokemon to help?”

Shit. She had already forgotten he had seen her at the Nurse Joy hospital earlier.

“That’s what I thought.” Lance cracked his knuckles. “Now I think you owe me an apology.”

“That’s not gonna happen.” Kali eyed up the boys. Out of the three Lance was definitely the leader of the pack and the other two seemed like they were only there because Lance told them to be. She clenched a fist at her side and slid her foot back so it was planted firmly behind her; she wasn’t totally helpless and if she could manage Lance she'd be able to make it out of there.

“Oh, I think you’ll change your mind about that.” Lance lunged forward but Kali sidestepped and brought her knee firmly up into his groin causing him to howl in pain. With the potential of three against one there was no way she was going to fight fair. “Argh! Get her!” Lance yelled, clutching his crotch in pain. Kali backed up as the other two approached.

Cliff heard shouts from what should be the empty battle courts and frowned. Curfew was getting close and battling outside the regulated matches was prohibited so there shouldn’t be anyone out there. Picking up his pace he followed the sound of what was definitely a fight. He rounded a corner just in time to see Kali dodge a punch from one kid only to have another land a hard blow to her stomach. She fell to one knee and Cliff saw red.

“What the hell is going on here!” He shouted, charging forward, and was on them before they had a chance to turn around. He grabbed the closest one by the scruff of his neck and threw him backwards where he landed a few feet away on his ass.

“Oh shit, it’s Cliff!” One of the boys shouted as they began scrambling backwards. “Let’s get out of here!”

Cliff took a few steps after them but thought better of it and turned back to Kali. She was just catching her breath and getting to her feet when he approached. “Here.” He offered her a hand up which she ignored. Stubborn.

“I’m fine.” Kali kept her head down as she brushed off her knee, it was scraped up but not bleeding. The same couldn’t be said about her pride though.

“You’re not, here let me see.” He ignored her protesting and placed his large hand under her chin and lifted. She avoided his gaze. “You’re bleeding.” he stated, reaching into one of the pouches on his belt for a cloth. Kali licked at the corner of her mouth to see if she really was.

“‘Suppose I am.” She glanced up at him and instantly regretted it as their eyes met. A warm blush began creeping across her cheeks and she was relieved when he looked back down at her mouth and began wiping away the blood.

“Why didn’t you take out one of your Eeveelutions to help?” He questioned as she winced.

“I don't have any with me, they're all with Nurse Joy for the night.”

“What!” It wasn’t really a question and she just shrugged in response.

“It’s not like I planned on getting jumped in the courts by a sore loser.”

Back on the main road Candela and Spark were enjoying an evening stroll, while they were both team leaders their responsibilities often had them off on their own so it was nice to have some time to catch up. They were headed back to the Pokecenter when a trio of boys rushed past them.

“...Team Rocket...butting in where they shouldn’t be.” Candela caught a fragment of conversation and paused, glancing at Spark. The worried look on his face told her he had heard that too.

“What’s this about Team Rocket?” Candela turned to address the boys. Lance gazed at the two team leaders, a plan quickly forming in his mind. He knew there was bad blood between Team Rocket and well, just about everyone. Maybe he could use this to get a little payback.

“Back there! At the courts! One of those Team Rocket leaders is picking on a defenseless trainer! We were coming back here to look for help!” His voice oozed with fake concern as the other two with him chimed in with “yeah, that’s right!”. Candela bought it.

“Let’s go.” Candela didn’t wait for Spark and began hurrying towards the courts. It didn’t take them long to spot the large Team Rocket leader, Cliff, cornering a poor girl by one of the battle courts.

“Hey! Get your hands off her!” She hurried over, Spark trailing closely behind her. Cliff backed away in surprise, both him and Kali looking at the pair in confusion. Candela didn't give him a chance to explain and immediately laid in on him as she approached.

“What do you think you're doing!” Candela shouted at him and Cliff's face darkened in anger. Within seconds they were both yelling at each other, neither listening to what the other had to say.

“Kalysta, right?” Spark recognized her from earlier. “Are you okay? Did he do that to you?” He pointed at the cut on her lip.

“What? No!” Kali was barely listening to the yellow team leader, instead focusing on Candela as a well of anger rose in her chest.

“You can tell us if he did. You’re safe now.” Spark placed a hand on her shoulder, snapping Kali out of it.

“Safe, what?” She glanced at Spark in confusion. Between the events of the last few minutes, Cliff and Candela’s yelling, and Spark’s concern; Kali had had enough. “Will everyone just shut up!” That seemed to do the trick as everyone stopped and looked at her in surprise. “I don’t know what you think happened but he didn’t do anything! I don’t need your help, or your pity!” She yanked her shoulder away from Spark.

“But we heard-” Spark started but Kali cut him off.

“Well you heard wrong!” She was trying her best to calm herself and ignore Candela but she could tell the red team leader was scrutinizing her.

“Kalysta?” Candela questioned. “I thought I recognized your name on the roster today.” Kali glared at her as Candela’s expression turned to one of pity. “I can see you’re still mad at me, I’m still so sorry-”

“Don’t.” Kali’s voice was icy as she held the other woman’s gaze for a moment longer. “Screw this.” She muttered to herself, if she stayed here with Candela she was really going to lose it.

“Wait!” Cliff called after Kali as she stormed past them but Candela stopped him.

“What the hell was going on here! We were told you were picking on a trainer.”

“And you believe everything you hear? Typical.” he scoffed back.

“Considering Team Rocket's reputation...” Spark chimed in.

“Oh, that’s rich.”

“...you can see why we believed those boys."

“Boys?” Cliff crossed his arms, glaring between the other two. “Three of them maybe?” He didn’t need them to answer, the look Candela and Spark shared told him he was right. “You mean the three boys that had her cornered over a lost match that I chased away?”

“And why should we believe that?” Candela matched his glare.

“Whatever, believe what you will.” Without waiting for a response Cliff turned his back on them and walked off. As he reached the main road he kept an eye out but as he suspected he didn’t see Kali anywhere.

Part 6 / Part 8

#Team rocket cliff #cliff pokemon go #pokemon go cliff #team rocket #pokemon go #leader cliff #team rocket cliff #pokemon go fanfiction #team go rocket #team rocket leaders #team go rocket cliff

2 notes · View notes

apex-academy · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5: Caring Is a Hazard to Your Health (#18)

The second round begins. Or the second... whatever. I don’t pay attention to bracket terms, I just play when they tell me to play.

Not much point in switching horses mid-stream, so I stick with the blob knight vampire guy. Yuki takes the big-eyed pink thing again. And apparently the other half of us don’t care for that strategy, because Ichiriki goes for Pikachu—yes, I actually recognized that one, shut up—and Kanagi switches to some ripped martial arts guy.

Aidan picks out another stage. I vaguely wonder if he let himself lose, since he’s the one who’s actually played this thing before. But I guess it’s harder to work the controller at a competitive speed one-handed. He doesn’t seem to be taking his loss particularly hard, so it’s not worth thinking about too much.

The countdown starts, and off we go. Yuki summarily launches herself off the edge of a cloud and into the void.

“Oh... Wrong way.”

“...”

The rest of us resume beating each other up while she’s busy regenerating or respawning or whatever it is. I don’t know what the heck move Ichiriki keeps spamming, but it’s sure doing a number on us.

“MY GUY STARTED DOING SOMETHING WEIRD what the crap.”

Kanagi keeps smashing buttons, but apparently she’s having more trouble controlling it than her last choice. I manage to knock her off the screen. And then Ichiriki takes me out immediately afterward.

“What even is this game.”

Chaos, but at least having half the players means I can freaking tell where I am without having to whip out the bat wings. Unfortunately, that does not save me from getting pummeled off the screen by some freaking background character that isn’t even one of our guys.

There isn’t much more of a struggle before Ichiriki is the last animal-thing standing.

“And that makes Mister Tokino our first finalist! Only one spot left, and he can still take it all right now if he wins the next match!”

“This is fun!”

“Yeah, like, of course it’s fun, you’re winning.”

“But you won’t take me out next round, dude!”

“I guess we’ll have to see~! Hee hee!”

I’d ask why he’s laughing like that, but at this point I’m giving up on asking questions.

And for the last battle of this round, Kanagi switches again to some guy in a pink hoodie. Guess she had enough of karate guy.

Either way, it’s onto the next round. Everything’s going fine until the stage starts crumbling beneath us.

“Why do we have to keep changing stages?”

“You’ll have to stay on your toes if you want to win this tournament, Miss Kogamino!”

“Apparently so.”

If nothing else, we manage to gang up on Ichiriki and throw him out before he can zap us all to death. Kanagi then proceeds to knock out Yuki’s guy, which was apparently some kind of accident.

“Oh my gosh?”

“I LOVE THIS DUDE!”

“That’s nice.”

Down to the two of us now, and it stays pretty close—until Kanagi misses a punch and it somehow launches her off the stage completely. She just stares at the screen as her character goes up in flames, or whatever that’s supposed to be.

“What the...”

“THIS DUDE SUCKS!”

“........”

She throws her controller to the floor as Aidan announces me as finalist and declares another intermission.

“You!”

“Me?”

“Don’t think this is over!”

She whips around, nearly smacking me with her hair tie.

“And you too!”

“.......”

“I WILL DESTROY BOTH OF YOU!”

“At what, exactly?”

Kanagi looks around the room before swinging her arm around to point at one of the machines.

“THAT!”

I squint long enough to make out “Centipede” written across the top of it.

“Is that even a game you’ve played before?”

“I’LL STILL CRUSH YOU!!”

“Okay.”

“Hummmmm, Kanagi...”

“I can still make you some dorayaki tomorrow...”

“It’s not the same.”

“Chill out, brah.” Kaichi claps a hand on her shoulder. “Need t’ drown your sorrows in some grinds?”

“I don’t even know what that means!”

“Food?”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, sure, sounds legit.”

And off they go to the popcorn table. I’m out of disbelieving commentary for the day, so I’m just gonna get another drink. By the time I fetch that, conversations have broken out again. Pretty sure I’m gonna get recruited into one eventually, so I at least avoid the group with Tsunyasha and Kanagi.

“But you’re not having any trouble...?”

“Everything’s perfectly under control. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“.......”

“What are we worrying about?”

Aidan wheels back a bit to give me space.

“Oh, Miss Kurokame was just checking in on me.”

“Hummmmm...”

“It’s at least harder to wash your hair, isn’t it...?”

“What do you mean?”

“One-handed and all...”

“And, hummm...”

“You can kind of tell just by looking... Sorry.”

“Oh?”

Well, hard to say much of anything in this light, but I guess it’s on the greasier side, sure. Not smelling too great over here, either, but considering we have eight fairly active people and four weird flavors of popcorn crammed into this room, I’d be wary of pinning that on anyone in particular.

“I mean, you are still showering and everything, right?”

“I assure you that’s the last thing I have any interest in skipping out on.”

Can’t counter that.

“You could’ve just said yes.”

“He doesn’t tend to ‘just’ say anything...”

“Yes, yes, the point has been made.”

He opens his mouth to continue, but I interrupt.

“But there’s no bench in there, right? And the baths are pretty deep. Can you stand long enough to get in either?”

“Um. I can’t stand at the moment, no, but...”

“I don’t think the wheelchair would fit in there, either, right...?”

Aidan sucks in a sharp breath.

“Fine, okay, I’ve been mostly subsisting off hand sanitizer and deodorant for the time being and it’s not entirely effective, but!”

“I’ve already rigged up some systems to help, I’m just making sure they’re absolutely safe before I try them!”

“It’s slow going with few tools available and the situation as it is, but progress is progress, and it’s nothing to be that concerned about, all right?”

“...”

“...So you haven’t bathed at all since you came back.”

“No and I’m dying on the inside a little bit but it’s FINE.”

He takes a deep breath.

“As previously stated, the solution is forthcoming, and if all we’re going to do this break is fuss about it, I might as well start the tournament finals already.”

“There’s a public bath now, though, right...?”

“Would that work?”

He’s getting all fidgety now. Can’t stand or stand still, apparently.

He sighs. “The layout would be easier, yes, but a structure that size is going to be far more of a drowning hazard when I can’t really guarantee I would stay conscious.”

“And that’s the reason for changing the lock, right? Have you seriously been passing out that much?”

“No!!! I just like to be prepared!”

So you prioritized that over showering when you don’t even like to handle papers other people have touched. Right.

“Hummmm... It’s a public bath, though, right...? So you could have someone else help...”

“Who, exactly? I’m not sure Mister Attenborough is in condition to handle the heat of that room for long, I’m afraid I don’t tr... care for Mister Tokino’s company all that much, and the circumstances may not be terribly safe for Mister Riseiin, either.”

I guess a girl wouldn’t be a valid solution? Well, I’m not volunteering.

“Hey, ‘m I being trash-talked o’er here?”

Right, we’re not exactly alone. I shuffle to the side so Kaichi can fit in the little circle we’ve got going.

“Oh, no...! Just... talking?”

I peer at Kaichi for a second.

“He does literally carry a flotation device with him everywhere he goes. The bath’s not that big.”

“Yes, but...”

“Oh...! And he’s technically a medical professional...!”

“I would like to argue that being a professional involves more than knowledge and talent.”

“That’s fair.”

“ ’m trying t’ use my context clues, but you’re not making ‘t easy, brahs.”

“It’s noth—”

“We were wondering if you could... look after Aidan in the bathhouse so he won’t get hurt if he falls asleep in there...”

Aidan’s mouth twists like he was this close to yelling “MOM” just now.

“I mean, ‘s chill with me.”

He waves his notebook.

“And if ‘s anything embarrassing, I won’t remember it ‘n five minutes, anyway.”

“.......”

“Well there’s no time to head there tonight regardless, so there’s no need for us to discuss this right now!!”

“I’ll consider it, okay?”

“But we’re here tonight to have a good time, not to worry about every little thing, so if you would please! Let! The topic! Rest!!”

Before anyone can interrupt him again, he raises his voice, cupping his hand toward the rest of the room.

“Who’s ready for the final match of the tournament?!”

Apparently Kanagi’s feeling good enough to whoop along with Ichiriki.

“I’m half of the final match, do I get a say?”

Regardless, it looks like it’s go time. I’ve had enough of whatever that was, anyway. Seems like we got somewhere? Still, I can’t decide if I should be concerned or not, and it leaves me vaguely distracted for the match. Which is only compounded by the fact Ichiriki chose yet another character, who goes flying around on motorcycles and...

“Did I just get eaten?”

I don’t even know anymore. I end up losing, but I can’t say I’m disappointed. This whole night has been so surreal I’m not sure I’m capable of feeling that.

Fun? Maybe. Hard to say when the whole world feels muted, like everything is behind some thick pane of glass. But it’s still there, I guess. I’m still close enough to know what’s going on.

It could be worse.

[BACK] [NEXT]

#apexplot #apex5 #fanganronpa

1 note · View note

therainroguefanfiction · 4 years

Text

🔥 ℝise Ⱥbove I̾t ◈ Chapter 030 [Scavenger Hunt]

📑 Table of Contents | ◂Backward

Word Count: 2,494

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

〈“So we’ll keep on starting the fire, thinking we’ll smoke out the liars. We don’t give up when we’re tired, that isn’t the way that I’m wired. Someday, we’re gonna rule the world.” Zayde Wolf, “Rule the World (Generdyn Remix)”〉

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Hey, kid!” Shimatsu grinned as I approached. “You were awesome in the cavalry battle!”

“Thanks,” I smiled softly. “Can I get three?”

“Coming right up!”

I glanced around at the spectators, chatting excitedly about the first two events of the sports fest. Several pro heroes were stationed around the stadium, keeping an eye out on the off chance some villain was dumb enough to try attacking. I spotted the chick from earlier, making a face at one of the food stall guys to get free food while the Woodsman scolded her for doing so.

Heroes… what does that word even mean, really? From what I remember from the TV shows and movies back home, the definition of a hero is someone that saves or helps others without ulterior motives and without personal gain. But in this world, being a hero is a job, one that young people across the globe aspire to have. People want to go pro for the fame, the fortune, and the power… If you have the title of hero, you can basically do whatever you want if Endeavor is anything to go by.

I wonder… why did my mother become a hero? Surely she got paid a lot more being a villain, so it couldn’t have been about money. She was already famous as an assassin, too. Was it the power she wanted? That doesn’t make sense, either. The world of villains makes it ten times easier to gain power because there are no rules or laws. What was her reasoning for changing her life? Did she have a dream? A goal she could only accomplish as a hero? I wish… I wish I could ask her.

“Kid?”

I snapped my attention back to the old man.

He wasn’t smiling, his brow furrowed. “Are you okay? You seem distracted.”

I took the box from his hand, staring down at the individually wrapped tacos. “Nah, I don’t think I am. But… I will be. So don’t worry.” I grinned at him. “Thanks for the food, Ojin.”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

“Get those foam fingers in the air, it’s almost time for the last round! But before that, good news for everyone that didn’t make the finals – since this is a sports festival, we’ve prepared some super fun side games everyone can participate in! We even brought in cheerleaders from America to get your blood pumping! Hold up…”

“What are they doing…”

“Looks like class 1-A is going full-on fanservice!!”

The fuck is that cockatiel going on about now? I glanced around, my eyes landing on my female classmates. Uhh, why the fuck are they cosplaying as cheerleaders? Ain’t our class getting enough attention already? Sparky and Mineta look awfully happy about this… I swear if they are responsible.

“What?! You tricked us?!” Momo cried, glaring at the two boys. “You’re gonna regret this!!” Fucking called it. I sighed, approaching Momo as she sunk to her knees. “Why is that I always end up falling for that little pervert’s stupid schemes? I even used my quirk to make these outfits…”

I scratched my cheek. “Haven’t you learned not to believe anything those two dopes say? You’re too naive, Momo, and they keep exploiting that.”

“Ugh!” Punk threw her pom-poms down, face completely red. “I hate those guys!”

“Well, we go have a little time before the finals start and I kinda like these uniforms, so~” Invisigirl started frantically waving her pom-poms and I could hear the smile in her voice. “How about we just roll with it?!”

“Are you crazy?!”

“Wow, Toru, you’ve got skills.”

Momo glanced up at me with a defeated expression. “I tried looking for you to let you know. I was worried that you might get into trouble for not participating, but now I’m glad I wasn’t able to…”

“I would’ve happily gotten in trouble,” I deadpanned. “I would die before wearing that shit.”

“R-Right…”

I smiled, patting her on the head. “Thanks for lookin’ out, though, Momo.”

She smiled back, nodding her head.

I turned toward the two boys, who were too busy watching Toru as she jumped around to notice my advancing toward them. I grabbed both of them by the back of the neck and slammed their faces together. They cried out in pain, wiggling in my grasp, but my hands started to heat up and they stilled, not wanting to get burnt. I smiled brightly, my voice low. “The next time you fuckers mess with the girls, I’ll give you a taste of pure hell, mkay?”

“Y-Yes, ma’am!” They cried as I threw them to the side, scurrying away with their tails between their legs. Fuckin’ idiots. I felt a tug on the back of my shirt and I turned around, raising a brow at Punk.

She shifted, her face still red in embarrassment. “Thanks for that.”

I hummed. “No problem. Sorry about that day in the locker room, I was kind of a dick to you.”

She smiled, “It’s no big deal. Water under the bridge.”

I scratched my cheek, a bead of sweat rolling down my cheek. “So, uh, what’s your name again?”

She sweatdropped. “You’re just like Bakugo, jeez. Kyoka Jirou.”

We shook hands, exchanging a grin. Huh, maybe this socializing shit ain’t as bad as I thought it was.

“Have fun competing in these side games, everyone! After they’re over, the twenty students from the top five teams will be duking it out one-on-one in a tournament-style fighting competition! I promise you’re not going to want to miss these match-ups!”

You’ve got to be kidding me. First, we gotta run around like chickens with our heads cut off, then we gotta work together and socialize, now we gotta beat the shit out of each other? Maybe I shouldn’t have dissed the idea of playing a game of golf…

“Ah, yeah! Finally getting a chance to show what we’re made of!” Kiri grinned brightly. “I watch these finals every year and now I’m actually in them!”

“So wait, is it always a tournament?” Alien asked curiously, bringing her finger to her chin.

“The final’s always a one-on-one competition, but they switch it up every time.” Flex Tape answered. “Last year, it was a foam sword-fighting match.”

I started laughing.

“What’s so funny?” Kiri asked in confusion.

“I just… I pictured hitting Bakugo with a foam sword on the head…”

He paused, lifting his head as he imagined it. Then he started to laugh with me.

“Come closer and draw lots to see who you’re up again!” Midnight announced. “And then enjoy the pleasure of the recreation games before we start. The twenty finalists have the option of participating in these activities or sitting out to prepare for battle. I’m sure you all want to conserve your stamina. I’ll start with the first-place team.”

“Um, excuse me…” Tail raised his hand in the air, looking sad. “Sorry, but I’m withdrawing.”

“Ojirou, no way…”

“But this is a rare chance for you to get scouted!”

“It just wouldn’t be right,” he responded. “I barely remember anything from the cavalry battle until the very end of it. I… think it was that guy’s quirk.”

I scratched my cheek thoughtfully, closing my eyes. Who was he partners with again? I don’t even remember seeing him once during the battle.

“I know this is a great opportunity,” he continued. “I wish I could take advantage of it but my conscious won’t let me.”

“Just think about this,” Izuku spoke softly.

“I have, okay?!” Ojirou’s brow furrowed as he held up his fist. “Everyone gave their all in round two, but I was just someone’s puppet. No way. I don’t want to advance if I don’t even know how I got here. It wouldn’t fair.”

“You’re making way too much of this!” Toru said cheerfully. “Just kill it in the finals and prove you should be here!”

“Yeah, what she said!” Alien added. “I didn’t do much in the battle, either.”

“That’s not it!” He covered his face with his hand. “I’m talking about my pride here. I refuse to give that up!”

Ah, men and their pride.

“Also… why are all the girls except for Winchester dressed like cheerleaders?”

“Because Mineta and Sparky are perverted dipshits,” I answered.

“Right…”

“Nirengeki Shoda from class 1-B,” A short boy with soft blue hair stepped forward. “I think I should withdraw for the exact same reason. Regardless of how strong I am, this isn’t how I wanted to get here! It would go against the values of the festival to advance without earning my spot!”

“Listen to these guys, they’re so manly!” Kirishima cried, making me sweatdrop and pat his back.

“Well now, here’s another weird turn of events.”

“We’ll have to see what Midnight has to say about all this, she’s the one in charge.”

Because letting the R-Rated hero be in charge sounds like a banger of a plan. What could possibly go wrong.

“This sort of talk is incredibly naive, my dear boys. That turns me on!”

“What the fuck, man.” I groaned, smacking my forehead. Thinking of Midnight being turned on is the last fucking thing I want burned into my skull.

“Shoda! Ojirou! You’re both withdrawn! Now, let’s see… We’ll move four students from the sixth place cavalry team so we have enough contestants.”

The orange-haired girl from class B spoke up. “We were frozen most of the time. Honestly, we barely did anything in the cavalry battle. Isn’t that right, girls?” She looked at the three standing on either side of her, who nodded in agreement. “You should choose from the group that kept fighting the whole time – team Tetsutetsu.”

“Kendo!” The silverette spoke up, surprise lacing his voice.

She smiled. “I’m not doing this as a favor. It’s just fair.”

“Seriously, you guys… thank you!!”

“And so, Tetsutetsu, Shiozaki, Honenuki, and Reggian have advanced to the finals. Take a look at the bracket, my dears! These are your opponents!”

Let’s see, I’m fighting some bitch named Regina Reggian? The fuck kinda name is that, fam? That’s almost as bad as Tetsutetsu Tetsutetsu…

“Hey, you’re Winchester, right?”

I glanced over my shoulder to see the black-haired guy with the air chain. “Depends on who’s askin’.”

“I’m your opponent,” he grinned. “The names Regina Reggian, but you can just call me Red.”

“Isn’t Regina a chick’s name?”

He sweatdropped, rubbing the back of his head. “Ah, well, my creator thought it would be funny. Pretty sure they hate me.”

“Right…” This bitch is definitely nuts.

“Listen up!” He pointed his finger in my face, pink eyes flashing as he grinned. “I’m gonna beat your ass like Jotarou beat Dio!”

“I don’t know who either of those people are, bro.”

“Whack.”

“Okay! Let’s press pause for a momentary interlude! Before the battles begin, it’s time for some pulse-pounding side games! First, how about a scavenger hunt?!”

Cards were handed out to those wanting to participate.

I flipped mine over and my eye twitched. Where the fuck am I supposed to find this shit? I glanced around the field, eyes stopping on Bakugo who was leaning against the wall looking pissed off at the world. Oh… Well, then.

I grinned as I approached him. “Oi, Bakuhoe. I need you for somethin’.”

“Huh? What for – What the fuck are you doing, bitch?!”

I ignored his protests as I threw my arm around his upper thighs and hoisted him over my shoulder like a sack of potatoes. “Fuck, you’re heavier than I thought. Go on a diet.”

“Fuck you!” He smacked the back of my head. “Put me down or I’ll kill you!”

“Quit squirming, you fuck.” I scowled, coming to a stop in front of Midnight and dropping him onto his ass, holding out my card that read ‘犬 Dog’.

“I’m not a fucking dog!!” Bakugo screamed.

I scoffed. “You sure fucking yap like one, chihuahua.”

“Die!!”

Midnight smacked the top of my head with her whip. “Denied!”

“Che, that ain’t fair, Midnight!” I scowled. “Where the fuck am I supposed to find a dog, huh? Am I fucking game to you?” I pointed at Bakugo’s face. “This is the closest fucking thing to a dog in this stadium! I demand a different card.”

“Denied!”

“Son of a -”

Bakugo shoved his hands in his pockets, glaring at the side of my head. “Instead of doing this stupid shit, you should be getting ready for your match! I won’t fucking forgive you if you lose to anyone but me!”

“Yeah, yeah, whateva.” I sighed, deeply, turning and walking away from them. I was a few feet away when I heard a high-pitched voice.

“Hey! Miss!”

I glanced up at the stands, seeing a young boy about nine or ten leaning over the railing and waving frantically. “Uhh…”

“Catch me, ‘kay?”

“Wait, what, OI -!” He jumped over the railing, making the nearby spectators cry out and try to grab him. His aim was pretty on point, not gonna lie. His body slammed against mine and I lost my balance, falling back onto my ass with him in my lap. “What the fuck were you thinkin’, huh? You coulda got seriously hurt, kid!”

He grinned brightly, showing off a gap where he was missing a top tooth. “I had faith that you’d catch me, big sis!”

Sis? What, is he a fan of James Charles or somethin’? “You shouldn’t be down here, your parents are gonna be mad.”

“Mom’s at work and dad left us when I was three.”

I sweatdropped. “Who brought you here, then?”

“My big brother! But he’s too busy getting rejected by Mt. Lady!” He giggled.

“For fuck’s sake,” I slapped my forehead. He giggled again and I narrowed my eyes. “Do not repeat anything I say. Clear?”

“Kay~” He grinned. “You need a dog for the scavenger hunt, right?”

“Yeah.”

His body started to shift in my arms, getting a bit smaller as his skin and clothes were replaced by fur. The boy was now a dog, his legs and belly white while the rest of him was a soft orange. Now, I’m not a dog person at all, but he’s pretty fucking adorable. What is that, a corgi?

He licked my cheek, making my eye twitch in annoyance. “Sorry, I can only talk to people I’ve licked!”

“…alrighty then.” I returned to Midnight, holding the kid up like I was holding Simba.

She raised a brow but didn’t question where I had gotten him from. “Approved!”

“Dope.” I brought him back to my chest. “What’s your name, kid?”

“Riku Reigen!”

“Alright, Riku. Let’s find that idiot brother of yours.”

He tilted his doggy head to the side, ears flicking. “But what about the other events, big sis? You’re gonna miss them!”

I shrugged. “I was only doing it because it was easy and I had nothing else to do. Plus, I’m in the finals so I don’t have to participate.”

“Okay, if you’re sure!” He barked happily. “Let’s go~!”

⊱ ────── {⋅. 🔥 .⋅} ────── ⊰

▸ Forward

📜 Read more by checking out my masterlist 📜

1 note · View note

khhunniewriting · 5 years

Text

No Coincidence

As you got closer and closer to the semi-finals of Show Me The Money your fanbase grew. Not only were you gaining credibility as a rapper but also great friends and future business partners. Since you were basically an unknown underground rapper the biggest question on everyone’s mind was who you would end up signing with.

You were always sending love to Yoon Mirae making people think you wanted in with Feel Ghood. But then again you were in Zico & Dean’s team. “I swear I’m going to make my own company and sign you.”

You laughed, it was getting late and you were still caught up rehearsing. Coming up with your next performance for the show was proving to be difficult. Hangzoo had already gone home while you remained. “Give me a good contract Boss and I’ll sign.”

“Really?” Dean asked in shock. He too thought you were after Feel Ghood.

“Honestly,” your hand pressed against your chest. “I’m open to all offers but I do have a list.” You shot a wink at Zico, “I’ll add you to the list Boss.”

“I like being called Boss,” Zico sat taller feeling like he had just been crowned king. From now on you should just call me Boss.”

“Show me the money first,” you shot back causing the filming staff and Dean to break out in laughter.

\\\

Unfortunately, your next performance was your last.

You hugged Hangzoo and congratulated him for being the last member of the team. “You have to win this,” you encouraged while shedding a few stray tears. It was an emotional time, on one hand, you were sad to go but on the other, you had done your best and showed what you were made of.

Hangzoo nodded as held you. He really didn’t want to see you go while he stayed. Zico and Dean joined the hug and gave you words of encouragement that brought back your smile.

On all sides, the other producers and remaining finalists waited to also bid you farewell. You were the final female rapper, your leaving meant the stage would be all men again. They would be losing their witty queen who had a comeback for everything.

“We’re going to miss you Y/N,” Tiger JK gave you a final comforting pat on the back. He slid you a card making you gawk at both him and Bizzy. “That’s my wife’s number.”

“Are you serious? I have Yoon Mirae’s number?” Finally, you had managed to get your favorite rapper to notice you. Everyone wanted to take a look but you quickly held it to your chest obstructing their view and jumping with joy.

That’s how filming ended for you... or so you thought.

As you walked out into the parking lot you ran into Jay Park. “Going home?” he asked rhetorically. He knew you used public transportation and wanted to offer you a ride. This just seemed like the proper thing to say first before doing so.

“Yeah,” you nodded.

“Even though you got eliminated today, you’re a winner and you should be sent home like one.”

You had to admit you blushed hard just in time for Dok2 to see it too. He came out almost out of nowhere like he was waiting for you somewhere in the shadows.

“What’s going on?” His question was directed at Jay who he thought had already left.

“Just some business.”

“Business?” you asked now realizing what this was about. You were being scouted by CEO Jay Park. “You want me in H1ghr?” That was the label he seemed to be recruiting for recently but he shook his head.

“AOMG.”

Your hands clasped over your mouth to muffle your loud gasp. Could it be true? Were you really being offered the chance to be the second female signed to AOMG? “Like with Hoody and Simon and Gray-”

Jay laughed, “yes to everything.”

“Shit-” you muttered to yourself. First, you got an invitation to Feel Ghood and now one to AOMG. Could things get any better?

Zico approached the three of you with an amused smile. He had expected this. You were truly talented, a diamond in the rough that people were desperate to get their hands on and help shape into something even more amazing. “Is everyone trying to take my talent?”

“Your talent?” Dok2 asked completely unaware of your little conversation with Zico the week before since the episode had yet to air. None of the other producers even knew Zico planned to open up his own company.

Zico nodded, “I am now officially CEO of KOZ Entertainment.”

No one was as taken back as you though. “Damn Boss, you really did it?” Because even if Zico had told you about it you didn’t expect him to really want you in his label. By no means was any of this expected.

Dok2 did not appreciate how close you had grown with Zico or how he towered over you as he showed you some pictures of his new office that was yet to be seen by anyone else. He, on the other hand, had to keep from conversing with you.

“Is Illionaire looking for their first female rapper?” Jay asked. Even though he was personal friends with Dok2 he didn’t know he was interested in you. When everyone else talked about you he seemed particularly quiet. He did, however, catch him staring a few times. “Were you eyeing her all this time?”

You nearly got whiplash from how quickly you turned to look at Dok2.

With all eyes on him, Dok2 had no choice but to say something. “Depends on Y/N.”

The weight of his words made it hard to breathe. “Woah, okay I think I might be dreaming.” For once you had no response to offer.

“If this were a dream I don’t think you would have lost...” Jay pointed out.

“True,” you straightened up and looked each one of them in the eye. All three CEOs were skilled and respected in the community. There was no wrong answer but a decision like this couldn’t be made on the spot. “I appreciate all of this but I need to think about it for a while.”

It was understandable, this was your future- the future of your career. “And as for the ride- I just don’t want to show favoritism to anyone so I’ll just go home the way I usually do.”

And just like any other day you walked down the street to catch the first bus that would take you to the subway station you frequented. All the while you thought of how you had ended your time on the show by crying. “God~” you whined pushing your forehead against the window making the person sitting beside you question your sanity. “Why did I have to go out like that-” your eyes widened as you saw the familiar Rolls-Royce Ghost of a certain CEO.

You scowled in its direction as you stepped out off the bus. After only a couple of steps, you heard your phone begging to be dug out of the small red leather crossbody bag you carried daily. You knew he was watching you through his heavily tinted windows. So you rebelled, you shook your head refusing to answer.

Dok2 gave up. He stepped out in his Gucci bomber and tugged on his beanie. “You know I don’t like being ignored.”

You sighed as people started to notice him and by default- you. It was inevitable if he was around. “And I don’t like standing out in public.” Ironic- with your passion of performing and aspirations of breaking out of the underground scene into mainstream media. You turned him around hooking your arm with his and dragging him back to his car as quickly as possible- before anyone could act on the fact that you two were speaking to each other on the streets,

Not forgetting his decorum, Dok2 opened the door for you. “You sure about that?” The way you auditioned for Show Me The Money told him otherwise.

Your eyes followed him as he made his way around the front of the car and into the driver’s seat. “Why are you mad?” Weren’t you the one who was supposed to be mad? He was the one who suddenly showed up.

“I’m not mad.” Correction- he was annoyed, maybe even irritated.

“Well I am,” you crossed your arms over your chest. He was jeopardizing everything you had worked hard for. “Joonkyung all I wanted was to prove myself. I wanted people to see my talent.”

For the past two years that you and Joonkyung had been dating no one had managed to find out. At first, it wasn’t intentionally meant to be a secret. It was just you two trying things out without putting pressure or having to explain anything to anybody. Now you were used to it. The two of you were becoming increasingly serious as your name was starting to gain some recognition.

That’s why you decided to audition for Show Me The Money- before anyone could pin your success on your relationship with Joonkyung. You intentionally kept your audition a secret from him, chose a different team, and kept your distance from him to avoid speculation.

“You proved yourself,” Joonkyung reached for your hand holding it up to his lips. “Baby you did good.”

His sincerity warmed your heart but you couldn’t smile. Instead, you leaned over the center console to place your forehead on his shoulder. “I lost Joonkyung~” your voice came out whinier than you intended but dammit you were sad. “All I wanted was to win so I could join Illionaire.”

Dok2 wrapped his arm around you as you began to cry. “If you wanted to join all you had to do was ask.”

“Ugh,” you pushed off of him with a groan. “You don’t get it. I don’t want you to just get me because I’m your girlfriend. I want to earn it.”

“You have earned it.” The whole reason he met you was because Hyoeun told him about you. He had seen you at one of your shows at a bar that was well known for its hip-hop performances. “I didn’t just run into you when we met.”

“What do you mean?” you asked intrigued by where this was going. The remaining 50% of your makeup that had managed to survive your tears at the filming was now gone. You dabbed at the edges of your eyes trying to regain composure.

After two years he was finally confessing how he had admired you from afar before chasing you. How he had intentionally booked Hyoeun and Hash Swan at an event you were performing at just so he could have a way to get close to you. “I liked your music, then I liked you too.”

“Babe-” you cut yourself off as you hid your face in his neck. You hugged him tightly, not wanting to let go or he’ll see how hard you were blushing.

Dok2 didn’t care, “So you can forget about the other offers now.” He pulled you over to his side making you sit on his lap. Space was tight as you tried to keep from pushing any buttons.

There was something strange in the way he said those words. It seemed like he was happy, relieved even. “Well, I have to at least talk to them. I didn’t even get to congratulate Jiho.”

“Jiho?” Dok2 tilted his head giving you a questioning look. He wondered when you started calling him by his name.

“Yeah, he’s my friend- very funny. One time he and Hyuk-”

“You’re friends with him too?”

You nodded, “the episode didn’t air yet but we went to the arcade together as a group.” The arcade was your all-time favorite place to go. When Zico and Dean took the team you were the most excited. “They’re all pretty cool.”

“Babe you can’t just tell your boyfriend how cool other guys are. Especially when I just saw you being with them for months while you ignored me.”

“I had to ignore you.”

“That’s not the point.”

“You can’t be jealous.”

“Why not?” Of course he was jealous. You were beautiful, talented, and potentially single to everyone else. He had to think about the possibility of someone trying to make a move on you.

“Because I’m already your girlfriend.” The thought of Joonkyung being jealous never even crossed your mind. "You're always so confident and sure of yourself. Do you honestly think I would leave you for Jiho or Jay?”

“I never said anything about Jay.”

You sheepishly smiled, ”Guess I was just thinking about him.” When you saw the flash of jealousy you confirmed he was indeed the jealous type when it came to you. Instead of holding it against him you put him at ease with a kiss. “Just kidding~”

-end-

A/N: Yeah so what do you guys think about CEO Zico and KOZ?

#khh scenarios #dok2 scenarios #illionaire scenarios #khh #lee joonkyung scenarios #illionaire #dok2 #lee joonkyung #dok2gonzo #khh fanfiction #khh fanfic

199 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 3 years

Text

Down with the Recipe, Bake from the Heart, 9/10 (Taywhora) - Juno

Chapter Summary: It’s the semi-final, and patisserie week will see the bakers face a tricky signature, an even trickier technical, and the trickiest showstopper ever seen on Bake Off. The four semi-finalists are all feeling the pressure, but they’re all determined to make it to the finale, whatever it takes.

WEEK 9: PATISSERIE WEEK

Tayce’s work had been almost a welcome distraction this week. Sleep had gone right out of the window for her for the last two weeks; all that occupied her spare thoughts was baking. Baking, baking and more baking. All she saw when she closed her eyes were proving bowls, baking trays, and KitchenAids - her own white one now blinding her.

Last week was too close. Shit critiques, shit bake. I need to nail this week.

Her weeknights were spent practising. Patisserie weeks were fiddly, intricate, and stressful, but she knew this was the one that separated the master bakers from the amateurs. So she’d practised until she had no bowls left, no ingredients, until her mind fogged as if with condensation, filled with no thoughts but baking.

I’m going to the finale, whatever it takes. I’m not doing all this for nothing.

——

Tayce painted eyeliner over her eyeliner, concealer over her concealer, and chugged another can of Monster - why had she let Ellie introduce her to Monster? - all while she was waiting for the connecting train at Reading Station, delayed as usual, when she saw a familiar person on the platform, checking her phone. Tayce stomach leapt to her throat as she realised it was Aurora.

Aurora was getting the same connecting train! Maybe they all did, but this was the first time Tayce had seen someone else on the same train as her.

Aurora hadn’t spotted Tayce, and Tayce’s mind whirled. Should she go and talk to her? Tayce wasn’t sure whether their NDA would stretch to them chatting in public before the show aired. On the other hand, who would know that they were just talking?

Can’t hurt, can it?

But the tannoy announcement came overhead for the train - only five minutes late, practically on time for trains - and Tayce saw that Aurora had disappeared into the crowd as she stood to board.

She couldn’t see that Aurora in her same carriage, so she found a seat and sat down with a sigh. Even though it was early on a Saturday morning, the train was already packed with people - mainly groups of women chatting and laughing, dressed in lots of fine dresses and enormous hats and drinking gin cocktails from cans; taking up all the table seats, excited giggles filling the air.

Tayce hadn’t a clue what this was in aid of - Ascot or just a wedding? - but for a split second, she’d have given everything to be as carefree as they were.

——

Signature: 24 Choux buns

“Your Choux buns this week should have a delicate and tasty filling. Twelve should be iced, and the other twelve topped with craquelin.”

“Topped with what?” Matt asked.

“Craquelin,” Noel said.

“Oh. Still didn’t understand that but alright.”

Tayce still managed a laugh, but Lawrence and Aurora on the other side of the room could only just crack a smile, and God only knew what Veronica’s face looked like in front of her.

“On your marks -“

“Get set -“

“BAKE!”

The general mood between the bakers was tense, but exhausted, as if they were all struggling up the last few feet to the top of a mountain. But although all of them were starting to bend under the pressure, Tayce was determined not to be crushed.

Even though she hated patisserie.

“It’s just so fiddly,” she’d complained to Cara during the week, the only person she’d managed to tell as part of her NDA. “I’ve done about three hundred practise choux buns and they never come out alright. I think the choux pastry just doesn’t like me.”

And whisking the ingredients together, waiting for that moment where she could check to see if the pastry was ready, gave her the chance to look around at the other bakers.

Her eyes stayed on Lawrence the longest. Lawrence had told her at the end of last week, after Bimini’s departure, that patisserie was her favourite. And although Tayce had assumed no one could like patisserie, Lawrence seemed to have regained some of her smile this week, sipping from a can of Monster herself as the choux pastry whirled in the deep purple KitchenAid on her workbench.

Veronica, with her emerald green one, was having a similarly peaceful time. Tayce had glanced at her a few times so far, mainly as she was directly in front of her, and found that every time she did, Veronica was fine. There was no clinging to the bench, no sighing, no shaking - just Veronica humming something as she put all her ingredients into the KitchenAid and let it spin, sipping her tea.

“Hi, how are you?” Blu was accompanied by Paul and Matt, coming round to do the usual on-camera talk with the bakers about the bakes.

Tayce’s stomach somersaulted whenever Blu was around - it was the accent mainly, but also Blu always seemed to be full of energy, even when the rest of the tent was dour as it was right now. Tayce couldn’t help but to smile back at her.

“Morning, love! I’m good!” She grinned. “Just trying to make sure sure my choux pastry behaves itself!”

“Oh, God, tell me about it! I don’t even know why I agreed to judge this week, patisserie is a triggering word for me after last season!” Blu laughed. “But Prue still has to recover, so here I am! Tell me what you’re doing this week, then.”

“So I’ve got two lots of choux, the iced choux buns will be full of cherries and coconut, and I’m icing the top to make it like a Bakewell tart. I love Bakewell tarts,” Tayce simpered, “and the craquelin ones, I’m doing those ones filled with vanilla cream and coffee. Bit of a kick first thing in the morning. Bit of a wake up call, you know what I mean?”

The judges had looked pleased enough with her flavours, and after they’d left, Tayce put her spatula into the mixture to test if it was ready to pipe, glancing at her timer as she did. It could have done with another minute or so to mix, but time was not on her side, so she picked up the piping bag and decided to get on with it.

“I’m making blood orange filling and a lemon curd icing for one set,” Aurora was saying on the other side of the tent, “and for the craquelin ones I’m making strawberries and lime.”

“Lime?” That was the one-word Paul Hollywood takedown. Aurora would have known that by now, but Tayce watched, a pang in her stomach as Aurora glanced down, the dimple on her cheek fading as her smile slipped down her face a little.

Come on Rory. You know better than to take that to heart.

“Yeah, lime.” Aurora nodded, but her voice was dimmed, and her dimple didn’t come back.

No, don’t start doubting yourself now!

“How’s the buns?” Tayce said, sidling over to Aurora once the judges had moved on.

“They’re fine.” Her voice was still stiff, and so were her movements. “Just getting the filling done.”

“Ignore what they said about the lime,” Tayce said into her ear. “It’s gonna be great. I know it already. I can’t wait to get out of here and taste one of them.”

“Thanks.”

But Aurora wouldn’t look at her, crouching down to look into the oven again at her second batch of buns.

“Do you want a cup of -“

“No thanks.” Aurora’s sharp voice was a surprise, as she indicated the can of Monster on the corner of the desk. “I’m good.”

“Alright! Jesus! I was only asking!” Tayce chuckled. “God, you can be a right moody mare to everyone when you’re stressed! Chillax!”

And this time, she didn’t wait for Aurora’s retort before heading to the tea tent.

She just takes out her mood on other people all the time. What’s the problem with her? She was better last week, and this week she’s back to being Mardy Margaret.

When she brought her tea back into the tent, Aurora was watching her, her hands on her hips. “You do an awful lot of talking for someone who’s meant to be baking, Tayce. You should focus on that instead.”

Maybe it was Tayce’s rattled nerves from lack of sleep. Maybe it was the semi-final pressure. Or maybe it was the raw, simple vulnerability that Tayce felt with Aurora, baring her soul, telling her that she was falling for Aurora last weekend. Whatever it was, all of Tayce’s emotions were on her sleeves, far too near to her skin …

… and this time, Aurora’s words were the last straw.

“Rory!” she yelled, “Just calm down! You’re not the only one who’s stressed here today! Stop taking your nerves out on me!“

Aurora’s jaw twisted, and she slammed down the choux buns she was taking out of the oven onto the steel with more noise than she meant to.

Lawrence, startled at the sound, turned to face them both, choux bun and piping bag in hand. “Not right now, alright?”

Tayce bit her tongue, bit back the reply that she’d taken Aurora’s moods, and her sharp words, with little retaliation the last couple of weekends, and that she was getting near to her limit with how much she would take. After all, Tayce was stressed too. Tayce hadn’t slept a wink. Tayce was just better at hiding her nerves.

She cocked an eyebrow at Aurora, who wasn’t even looking at her anymore, and concentrated on filling her piping bag, shocked at how much her hands shook as she tried.

Forget Aurora for now. We can talk calmly later. Focus on yourself.

The rest of the Signature was a blur, a fast blur of a morning which Tayce recalled virtually nothing about, until the moment she stepped out of the tent, baking completed.

The only thing she remembered about the Signature were the judges comments. And that was because they stabbed her, pricking her skin and staying there like hedgehog spines.

“Tayce, the filling is leaking.”

“The pastry could have done with a little more mixing.”

“Over baked - the choux shouldn’t really crunch.”

“The icing is lumpy.”

“I can’t get the coffee flavouring.”

At least she’d managed to correctly present the full twenty four. Aurora had managed to fill and ice twenty one of hers in the time, presenting twelve with craquelin and nine with icing; while Veronica had miscounted and made fourteen iced and ten with craquelin. Meanwhile, Lawrence might have swiped her perfect-looking choux buns straight from Paris.

While the others went back to Norton Hall, Tayce stole away, slipping through the trees back to the lake, this time alone. The bench was a little damp from the rain on Friday, but Tayce took off the jacket she’d brought for the chilly turn the weather had taken, and lay it on the bench to sit on. The ducks, tame now to her footsteps, approached her thinking she had bread.

Only six weekends too late, she thought to herself. I wonder if ducks like choux buns.

——

Technical: Cornucopia / Horn of Plenty

“What advice do you have for the bakers this week, Paul?”

“It’s all there for you in the instructions.”

Cryptic as ever. Blu giggled next to him, her hands in front of her mouth, back in her Mary Berry disguise to judge them again.

Once allowed to bake, Tayce whipped off the gingham tea towel and read the title twice before it sunk into her mind. The ingredients were sparse, the instructions were for once really detailed, and they were all given diagrams of the shapes of the parts of the horn they had to bake.

In front of her, Veronica was groaning, leaning on her workbench, her knuckles white. On her right, Lawrence was clutching her hair until it started to come out of her bun, and Aurora was pacing up and down in front of the workbench, her face thunderous.

Tayce had the mixture done in no time, but shaping it was proving difficult. Not the consistency of the diced almonds, not melting the chocolate for decorating and piping the scrolls for the top - but the shapes, and everyone was struggling to grasp how they all went together. They’d all been provided with templates for each piece of the bake on laminated paper, eleven in all that were meant to fit together, but without a picture of the finished product for reference, it was difficult to see how it all would.

“How are you doing it?” Tayce asked Aurora, leaning at the corner of her workbench.

She didn’t look up. “I - I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“Tayce -“ Aurora raised her head, locking eyes with her, irritation etched in every line of her face. “I’m trying to focus. I need to do this right.”

“I do too! But we can work together, compare notes!” Tayce said, but Aurora held up her hand.

“Please,” Aurora breathed, turning her heavy eyes back to the laminated paper, the words dropping like lead from her lips, “… please just leave me alone to do this. Please. I can’t right now.”

Tayce had no choice. Every step back to her own workbench drained a little bit more of her enthusiasm through her feet as it slipped away from her into the floor. By the time she’d grabbed her cup of tea, she was empty.

Fuck it.

She had trusted the recipes all through the contest, and it had gotten her this far. She could keep doing it.

She weighed each piece of mixture and shaped them into rings, all eleven pieces in differing sizes, placing them on the baking tray and putting them into the oven to bake. In front of her, Veronica was tapping her alarm, before stepping back, fingers in her mouth, and Tayce noticed that her own nails, that she’d taken so long to grow out, were now bitten back down to the quick. A habit she’d worked so hard to break, sacrificed in the name of baking.

Veronica had put hers in to bake a minute or so earlier, but when they came out, Tayce thought they looked a little too brown, so she took hers out at the same time, the slightly paler colour looking about right. But when she watched Veronica, she realised how wrong she’d gotten the shapes.

“Veronica,” Tayce called, and she turned.

“What’s up, love?”

“How did you get yours to tilt on its side like that?”

Veronica’s Cornucopia was rounded in a curve as she fitted it together, like a horn, but Tayce’s wouldn’t form that shape, and Tayce felt like she was missing something.

“It’s on sealing the pastry. Did you have one side of each ring that was thicker than the other?”

Tayce looked at her rings of almond bake, but they were all an even thickness.

“They’re meant to be a bit thicker,” Veronica showed her one of hers, “so they fit together with a curl in them. D’you see?”

Tayce’s stomach filled with lead as she re-read the shaping instructions. She’d missed that part.

“Shit. I think I’ve got a disaster.”

“No, no, don’t say that,” Veronica soothed, “I mean - the biscuits are a bit wrong, yeah, but that’s not all that matters - the bake still has to be good, and the piping you have to do as well …”

“Vee,” Tayce stopped her, and Veronica sighed.

“I guess it’s gone a bit … pear-shaped, hasn’t it.”

“It kind of works at the bottom,” Tayce said, trying to fit the largest bits together, but the rest of it stood straight, leaving a strange shape that didn’t seem to stand up or lay flat.

“I’m fucked.”

“You’re not, Tayce …” Veronica’s voice faded away

“It’s fine. It is what it is.”

“You can still salvage it …” But Veronica trailed off again, and Tayce forced a smile to try to make Veronica feel better.

——

“Bakers, your time is up!”

Matt’s call couldn’t come soon enough. Tayce had had enough of this bake. The heat in the tent was making the piping drip, the caramel was hanging on by a thread, and the shape was definitely not what it needed to be. Veronica’s curve of the horn looked much more like it, and Tayce felt herself sink.

Once Tayce had brought hers to the front, she couldn’t help but look at the other horns, and felt a jolt of relief when she saw another one was also a mess, the same wrong shape as her own.

Oh, thank God for that.

But as she went to take her place on the stool, between Aurora and Veronica, she realised it was Aurora’s, and her blood turned to ice.

She almost couldn’t watch the judging. Paul and Blu in her Mary Berry disguise were sampling, Blu putting on Mary’s accent for the cameras, but none of the four of them on their stools let out anything more than stifled laughter and taut smiles.

“In last place we have this one -“

Tayce didn’t even need to look to see who would be raising their hand. Aurora’s face was white, chewing her nails as she claimed fourth place.

“Aurora - it’s quite over baked, the caramel is crystallised, and you’ve lost the horn shape - it’s just a pole. Not your finest hour, I’m afraid.”

Paul’s words were stacking on Aurora’s shoulders, she could see it plain as day as they weighed heavily on her. Aurora was nodding, but her eyes were blank, and Tayce was sure she couldn’t hear him.

“And third place is this one,” Paul continued, and Tayce knew it would be her, again without looking.

“Tayce - you started to get the shape right, but I don’t know what happened to the icing, and it’s a little under baked.”

Tayce swallowed the lump of whatever was at her throat and forced a smile. “Not my best!”

She felt Aurora’s eyes burning holes into her, but she didn’t turn to face her. She just focused on Veronica being called second and Lawrence coming out on top, all of them looking more and more anxious the longer judging went on.

This week was the week that the smallest thing could send any of them home. It was the semi-final. It no longer mattered where you came in Technical or Signature, because the Showstopper would probably count most. It was what the judges remembered, and the last impression could turn out to be the lasting impression.

I have to nail the Showstopper to stay. Whatever it takes.

——

“Surprise!”

When they all opened the door to Norton Hall, a loud burst of pink and purple hit them all, along with a nasal laugh. For half a delirious second, Tayce thought it was Bimini, back from elimination for whatever reason, but a few more steps revealed Cheryl, another contestant from the previous year, her smile warm and welcoming.

“Chez!” Blu immediately broke to a run past them all and leapt onto her girlfriend. “You didn’t tell me you were coming here!”

“Well how would it be a surprise if you knew?” Cheryl laughed, as Blu peppered her cheeks with kisses. “Put me down for a second, Blu! Jesus! I thought I’d get the party started! You’re all semi-finalists! We’re all semi-finalists!”

“Not all of us,” Blu remarked, eyeing her, while Cheryl nudged her.

“Babe, you’re not meant to remind me that I left the week before semi finals, that’s part of the agreement for us being on-screen girlfriends, remember?”

“On-screen?” Aurora squeaked.

“Yeah, we’re not really a couple, we’re just pretending for the cameras.” Blu said solemnly, disentangling herself from Cheryl and extending her hand. “How do you do?”

But Cheryl couldn’t keep a straight face; she collapsed into giggles as she took Blu’s hand and shook it, before slapping Blu on the arm again. “You’re a nightmare, honestly! Anyway, I can’t wait to try all your choux buns and the Cornucopias you’ve made!”

Blu sighed as she flopped onto the sofa. “Oh god, I didn’t know how much I’ve missed Norton Hall! This is where we all stayed too, you know.”

“Norton Hall?” Aurora said, putting a hand to her throat. “Is that what this place is called? I’ve been calling it Carr Hall since we got here!”

That was the catalyst. Tayce’s nerves creeping up her chest all day finally reached her lungs, eliciting a laugh, and once she’d started, she couldn’t stop. She put a hand to her mouth, but that only made her giggles bubble in her chest until they burst from her.

“It’s definitely Norton Hall, babe,” Cheryl said, shooting Tayce a confused look. “Check the leaflets. It’s got the name on it.”

But the others had fallen silent, the only sound Tayce’s uncomfortable wheezing laughter; Lawrence looking from Tayce to Aurora; while Tayce felt sharp fingers in the crook of her elbow, Veronica’s voice reaching up to her ear.

“For God’s sake, Tayce, please go and get a bun or something, please -“ Veronica steered her away to the table, and Tayce’s chuckles died down as she looked down at the buns, picking up one of everyone’s, even her own.

But as she looked at the Technical bakes, the Cornucopias, all now collapsed pastry rings, in pieces like all of their minds; all Tayce could hear as she looked at her bake were the judges words as they span round in her head -

Under baked … poorly iced … awful shape …

And Aurora’s at the other end, where the words were louder, stinging like thousands of tiny needles in her skin -

Over baked … just a pole … crystallised …

Her heart rattled against her ribs as realisation struck her so hard that stars danced in her vision.

It’s me or her.

And Tayce let her breath go, not realising she was holding it.

Whatever it takes.

Long, sharp fingers looped at her elbow again.

“Tayce?” It was Veronica, cautious and concerned, but Tayce couldn’t meet her eyes, squeezing her own shut so tightly so that she could stop herself from showing her pain by closing it back in.

“Tayce, what’s up, love?”

Veronica was gentle and her voice was soft, but Tayce’s skin was on fire, and she yanked her arm free and found her feet taking her away to the the stairs, taking the steps three at a time, ignoring the voice calling after her, a voice that was so familiar and so excruciating at once …

The door slammed behind her, closing out the world. But suddenly, her door was flung open and there Aurora was, in her doorway; the shock caused Tayce to say the first words that came to her head.

“Hey! I didn’t say you could come in!”

But Aurora’s eyes were wide, her hand trembling, as she pulled the door firmly shut behind her.

“What the hell -“

“Tayce, I’m not leaving until you tell me why you’re being so weird.”

But Tayce forced a laugh. “What? What do you mean, I’m being weird?”

“You’ve been annoyed all day, you’ve had a short fuse, even though -“

“You’re the one who keeps getting in a mood whenever I talk to you now!” Tayce cried, a bitter bark of a laugh escaping her. “I wanted to help you, and you just snapped at me, even after - after last weekend!”

Aurora took a sharp breath in, a flush creeping on her cheeks as she stood, silently surveying Tayce for a moment.

“I’ve had my first bottom in Technical. I’ve had my worst feedback in Signature. I’ve not slept all week because I was so worried with all my practises for patisserie week, and honestly, now I’m scared shitless.”

Aurora’s voice was low, and Tayce watched as Aurora scrunched her eyes tightly shut, her hands clenching and unclenching at her sides, her lips pursing as she fought some internal battle; before finally relaxing again, opening her eyes to look into Tayce’s.

“So I’m sorry, Tayce, that I’m a bit on edge, and I’m sorry that I’ve snapped at you. I know that’s wrong. But …” The sigh she let out was slow, filled the air with fizzling nerves. “I’m going. I know I am.”

“You can’t go.”

Where did that come from? Aurora’s eyes flickered, she licked her lips.

“I already know it’ll be me. I’ve been so bad this week -“

“Stop saying that. Stop being defeatist.”

“I’m not being defeatist, Tayce, I’ve done the worst this weekend so far! It’s logic!” Aurora’s voice grew higher with every word. “All I need is to fail the Showstopper, like every time I’ve done it in practise, and -“

“Rory! Please!”

Aurora stopped as Tayce spoke, trying to regain control of her tongue.

“Tayce. Why can’t you just tell me why you’re being so weird this week -“

“Because I can’t deal with thinking about one of us leaving, alright? I can’t!”

Her voice was shrill, breaking in her throat, and she screwed her eyes shut tightly, but tears still overflowed, her whole body suddenly shaking uncontrollably. Her chest crumpled, she was laid bare again, impossible to hide anymore.

I came here to win this. I came here for the cake stand. But that was eight weeks ago. And now …

Aurora stepped back at Tayce’s sudden outburst, the explosion of emotion alien to her.

“What do you -“

“Remember when Tia went home? Remember?” Tayce interrupted her, finding words fully formed without her having to think about them. “Veronica was a bag of nerves all the next week! She still is! And Ellie, too! You were so sad. Lawrence was losing it. They were so close! They got each other through the days! Remember?”

Aurora’s voice broke. “Of course I remember.”

“That’s you, too.”

“Tayce -“

“You get me through the days. You made me smile every week. You - you were the only person to come talk to me when I was missing my Pops. You always …” but finally the words stopped, thoughts drying out, but Tayce took a shuddering breath, the most honest truth still to come. “And like, I can’t … I can’t imagine you going now.”

Whatever it takes.

… but not this.

Aurora’s expression was unreadable as she surveyed Tayce, peering into her eyes as if searching for some meaning behind them, something she was concealing.

“I mean it, Rory, I mean it, I’ve never meant anything more in my fucking life …”

Aurora tugged Tayce gently into her embrace, and Tayce yielded to her, resting her forehead against Aurora’s, and when their lips met, Tayce tried to put everything she could into the kiss, to tell Aurora with unspoken words everything that there were no words for. A kiss was the most honest language there was, right?

They might have stayed entwined for longer than they thought. But when Aurora pulled away, her lip shook, her chin quivered.

“You’d better not go this week.”

“Or you, you bitch. We need to be in the final three together. Just promise me you’re gonna bring it. Bring your best bake.”

Aurora blinked, stunned for a moment. “Tayce -“

“Promise! You can’t be giving up! Bring your best bake. Okay?”

She swallowed, nodding against Tayce’s forehead. “Okay. I promise.”

——

Showstopper: Meringue centrepiece, featuring 2 types of meringue and a dessert element.

“Most importantly of all, remember what Prue says all the time -“

“… it has to be worth the calories,” Tayce heard herself parroting back as Blu said it, the catchphrases all too familiar by now.

Once the clock started, Tayce wasted no time. She didn’t want to talk. She didn’t even want to see anyone else in the room.

This was about her and Aurora now.

We both need to stay. Come on.

She glanced up, watching Veronica separate her eggs, and over to Lawrence, frowning down at her instructions as her eggs whipped alongside her. Both of them were still here, but one of them had to go next.

Please, one of you has to have a disaster. Neither of you have had one. One of you must be due one now. You can’t both be this perfect.

But as time progressed, Tayce felt it in sand, slipping through her fingers.

Veronica’s ballet design was interesting, beautifully decorated, and really showed off her dancing past; while Lawrence’s pair of meringue flamingos, proudly stood next to each other, couldn’t have looked more perfect if Lawrence had painted them pink and given them a voice box with a bird call.

She was stupid, so stupid to think that Lawrence or Veronica would slip up. Neither of them had put so much as a toe out of line since the first week, and they weren’t about to start now, not now that they’d seen how much Tayce and Aurora were failing, scrambling to keep up with them both.

“Bakers, you have ten minutes left!”

Where had the time all gone? Tayce couldn’t remember half of what she’d done, but she had meringues before her, incorporating the two different types the judges had specified, and a dessert that was delectable, she hoped.

She glanced at Aurora, whose meringues looked pretty good, if Tayce’s judgement was worth any weight. The sculpture she’d done was delicate and beautiful, the meringue lined with fruit and spun sugar. It looked similar to Tayce’s own, and Tayce wasn’t surprised - there was only so much you could do with meringue.

They still both stood a chance. Veronica and Lawrence may still have a disaster.

“Bakers! Time’s up! Step away from your meringues!”

When Noel called for time, Tayce noticed the hairline crack in the largest meringue she’d baked, holding the rest of the sculpture upright, and cursed herself for not covering it with more fruit to hide it. She looked over at Aurora’s, at the shape, seeing hers was in pretty good condition - not as interesting as Veronica’s or Lawrence’s, but one of theirs could taste bad or be under baked.

But when Tayce was asked to present it, the crack in the upright meringue that she had hoped would last until this point, crumpled and collapsed, taking the rest of the meringue sculpture with it, tumbling to the floor.

——

The wait was the longest any of them had felt. The judges’ critiques had been kind as always, but there was still of course the lingering knowledge that the unthinkable had happened.

Lawrence and Veronica were definitely out of trouble. It was down to Tayce and Aurora for elimination.

Tayce took herself back to the pond; Veronica looked as though she wanted to follow, but Lawrence caught her arm just in time, shaking her head and pulling her back up the path to Norton Hall. But when Aurora hung back, approaching the same bench slowly, Tayce couldn’t move to stop her; nor was she entirely sure she wanted to be alone now.

Aurora sat heavily, as close to Tayce as she could get, and silently rested her head on Tayce’s shoulder. Tayce caught sight in the dimming light of her fingers twisting in her lap, her left foot jiggling up and down. Felt deliberately calculated breathing against her chest.

In for three, hold for four, out for five. Tayce remembered the rhythm Aurora had told her about and her stomach twisted, pained at Aurora’s worry. She let her head drop on top of Aurora’s, and Aurora’s hand slowly crept into hers, her skin cold and the scent of her hair filling every pore of her skin.

For what was looking more and more likely to be the final time.

They spent the next fifteen minutes wordlessly watching the ducks on the pond, coming and going, water rippling out beyond them.

So calm, so regal on the surface, but underneath their legs are kicking hard as they can to keep them afloat.

Once the team hurried them back into the tent, the air in the room felt like tar, too thick to breathe. Aurora’s fingers were so tight around Tayce’s that she thought she might lose all sensation in them; and as they sat down, and Aurora let her head fall onto Tayce’s shoulder again, she tried to ignore the wetness that developed on her shirt. Willing herself not to look down so as not to cry too.

On her right, Lawrence took her other hand as she settled onto her stool, stroking her knuckles tenderly, and Veronica did the same to Aurora, like they were four penguins in a row. Veronica clasped Aurora’s left hand in both of hers, muttering soothing words that were meant to calm them both.

But of course, both of them weren’t going.

The judges were back in the room in what seemed like the blink of an eye.

The final Star Baker award went to Lawrence, and for a split second everyone lost their contact, a strange cold gap between them as they applauded. Tayce, speechless in fear, pulled Lawrence in to hug her as Lawrence fought back tears.

“I’m so honoured,” Lawrence mumbled, nodding. “Thank you.”

And then it was the person leaving. Noel’s expression was grave, unnerving for him, as he said the immortal words of “I have the awful task of announcing who will be leaving us today.”

Noel was still speaking, but Tayce wasn’t listening; Aurora’s chin rattled against Tayce’s shoulder as she curled back onto it, and Tayce rested her head against Aurora’s, turning her gaze skywards so as not to cry; Lawrence’s hand almost as tense in hers as Aurora’s as they waited for the death knell -

“Tayce.”

The weight of the room seemed to slam her into the floor.

Noel’s mouth was moving still, but words were hard to hear.

All Tayce knew was Aurora’s whole arm shaking, and the whole tent crashing to the ground around her as time stopped.

——

“It’s been … a ride.”

The producer behind the cameraman waved a hand, trying to get Tayce to say some more.

Tayce hadn’t been sure how she’d feel at being eliminated, but now that she had been, if there was any sense of disappointment, it sat on her skin, refusing to sink any deeper at present. All that was going through her mind were the happy memories, running in a showreel being projected into the back of her head.

Joe’s store-bought fondant. Ellie’s questionable towers. Pip’s tiny handbag. Cherry’s seemingly endless supply of gossip. Tia’s adequate chocolate ball, filling the room with charm. Asttina’s playful glee at whipped cream. Bimini’s crimps with Noel. Ginny’s obsession with lemon and legendary exit.

What had Tayce brought? She wasn’t quite sure.

She threw back her head and laughed at the absurdity of it all.

No one will remember me at all!

“It’s been a really great adventure. I’ve met some amazing people, I’ve had the time of my life, and I’ve put Newport on the map, baby!”

The producer waved at her again.

“What? What more do you want?”

But as the words left Tayce’s mouth, she realised that she didn’t seem at all perturbed at going home.

She tried, but it just didn’t come to her.

The cold dread, that had once threatened to creep like ivy up her chest to her heart, had been conquered by the elation of each week, by the warmth of the others there, and by the depth of care she’d found in all of the contestants, severing everything negative that she could have taken away from not winning a baking contest.

The oppressive atmosphere of the contest had lifted.

She couldn’t believe that only an hour or so ago, she was hoping for Lawrence or Veronica to have a disaster to spare her. Thinking back to it, she felt ashamed at how much those thoughts weren’t like her. It made her laugh to realise now that she’d missed out on a cake stand, but that was all. And she could buy one of those anywhere.

How could she be sad to the camera?

But after her exit interview was done, she found all three of the finalists waiting for her, waiting to see her, huddled under one big golf umbrella.

“It’s … it’s raining. Why aren’t you back in -“

“Why d’you think?” Veronica said, holding her hands up. “You didn’t think you were leaving without a proper goodbye from us did you?”

“I’ll be back next week!” Tayce laughed. “I’m only gone a week! And I’ll be here to cheer you three on in the final and -“

“Tayce,” Aurora shook her head. “When are you gonna admit that you’re upset for yourself, for not making it to the final?”

“I’m - I’m not!”

But the more she stood before them, the more it started to creep on her, disappointment …

But not for the loss, not that I’m no longer competing. That I’m … that I’m leaving these people.

“Guys -“

Lawrence’s eyes were shining with tears as she hugged Tayce, and Tayce rubbed her back as they fell. Lawrence was shaking, and Tayce was lost for words, wondering if she should be trying to comfort Lawrence or reassure her.

“I’ll give Ellie a kiss for you on the loser side,” she muttered finally into her ear as they held each other.

“You’d better fucking not,” was Lawrence’s strangled retort.

Veronica was a little more nervous, holding her arms awkwardly at her sides, unsure if she wanted contact or not. “I - look, Tayce, I know I didn’t always -“

“Oh, Vee, lighten up! Come here,” Tayce said, pulling Veronica into a hug, and Veronica wrapped her arms around her, surprising her at how tightly Veronica squeezed. “You’re an amazing baker, and you need to give yourself more credit. And a bit of a break.”

“I know,” was Veronica’s muffled reply.

Aurora waited until last. Tayce could barely stand to look at her. Her brown eyes swam with tears, her lips quivered, and she took a shaky breath as Tayce came near to her.

“I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry.”

Tayce opened her arms out and Aurora let herself come into them, Aurora’s chin nestling into the crook of her neck. And the longer she held Tayce, the tighter her grip became, and Tayce tried to pull her nearer still until she couldn’t -

“I don’t know if I can do this.”

The heartbreaking words were breathed into Tayce’s ear, strands of silk in the wind, but hearing them made Tayce’s stomach flood with lead, a cold wave washing over her skin, and not from the rain as it grew heavier.

Those were the words that finally made tears spill from her eyes.

She took Aurora’s face in her hands, locking eyes on hers to confirm her conviction, her voice breaking with heartache.

“You can win this, bitch.”

——

THREE BAKERS REMAIN

#rpdr fanfiction #rpdr uk #down with the recipe #juno #uk2 #baking au #gbbo au #taywhora #tayce #a'whora #bimini bon boulash #veronica green #lawrence chaney #fluff #lesbian au

6 notes · View notes