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ginwhitlock · 3 years

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Southbound : Chapter 6

After the Cullens leave her behind, Bella is left to pick up the pieces by herself. A year after her eighteenth birthday, a split second decision lands her in her truck, running far away from everything she has ever known. She decides to go south. What will she find in San Angelo, Texas?

After Peter left, the air between us felt stagnant, cold, like a pond left uncovered in the first freeze of winter. The man in front of me didn’t smile, didn’t even fake a breath for my own comfort. I know he could feel the shard of glass slowly sinking into the pit of my stomach; the fact of its direction changing, resigning, surpassing my throat to lodge itself in my skull as a sharp ache not lost on me.

And I’m sure, not on him.

I knew Jasper. I had sat feet from him not even years before. What had changed in those aching months? What kind of lust seeped into his unbreakable bones since? This man was toothier, slumping shoulders spread wide against the settee. Who was this brother of his and why did he have Jasper now? I mean— he had explained just moments ago the short extent of Alice and his separation, but the questions were tar in my brainstem: unmoving, guilty, painful. The faint imprint memory of his hand on my knee softened the creases under my eyes. His eyes were nothing if not full of memories.

He scared the shit out of me. The worst part of me liked it.

The keys in my hand were jangling as I wrung my hands against the metal. They were ice cold from Peter’s grip and yet I never shied away from them, I rested into their cut, their steel mill scent. It’s all the comfort I had left in this unfamiliar sandy home.

“You never told me where you meant to end up, Isabella.”

The look on his face hadn’t changed from its hawk-like gaze, his mouth upturned in what was made to be sincere questioning.

My teeth seemed to buzz in my jaw as they clenched. I was stuck between trying to find the answer that made the most sense— but this far away haunted house was nowhere close to where I was headed. To be honest, I hadn’t even made a plan for my drive, the road had been a black licorice rope pulling me deeper and deeper south, its vines unswervable.

Those damn carmine irises were still on my face. My hand settled on the silver scar. “Somewhere without you— your kind.” There's a horrible dread that sinks deep into the pit of my lowest bones, down past the acid lining of my stomach. It wasn’t mine in the first place…

He smiled again. That fangy lip twitch he implemented earlier in his bedroom, his searing white canines glinting in the southern sun. Jasper did some twist of his knuckles as they rested on his denim knee, the bareness of the marble flesh punctuated.

“Do you truly think your life will not continue to be… supernatural?” He paused something big and let his lashes point away from me, his gaze settling right behind my head, “The world has never been that kind. Especially to you, Miss Swan.” The way his tongue curled around my name made something twist in my gut. Something that felt like finally breaching the top of a rollercoaster after clunking around in the seat for several minutes.

I took a breath, “No hope for me then, Mr. Cullen?”

“Whitlock, darlin. Mr. Whitlock.”

His correction was daring and quick, like a dare. The scared shitlessness was starting to turn.

“Oh?” I’m sure my eyes were the size of dinner plates served on the damn moon.

His quirk faltered as he refocused on the skin of my neck. “The Cullens aren’t the biggest fans of the ousted members keeping their name, I’m sure. Whitlock was my human name.”

My lip twitched, “Like Peter?” He did say they were brothers, it would make sense the tanner man kept it while Jasper stayed up north.

“He adopted it when I changed him in the twenties. He didn’t need to remember his own.”

The paint covering the living room walls was starting to feel warmer and warmer. There was a sort of mysticism in the air, the kind of feeling Phil said he got standing on the pitcher’s mound. This charge of electricity. And if I felt it— did the man in front of me do too?

“You changed Peter?”

A hum came from his Adam's apple. I quickly stopped staring at its vibration, focusing on my still hands. “Is that where you got that name? The ‘Major’?” My legs felt like salt blocks sat out for the new fawns.

Jasper kicked his foot out, inches from my own. “All in time, Isabella.”

Why the hell was that the question he kept dodging?

I nodded against my own snooping judgement and sat up straight, gripping the cut key again. “Peter said something about seeing my truck?” As if on cue the sound of a backfire sounding across at least an acre of dirt, the laugh of the man in question following in direct response.

He reminded me of a wilder, leaner, Emmett.

I didn't know if that was a good thing.

The blond rolled his eyes, something I would’ve passed out seeing months ago, which now just made him more and more intriguing. His hand raised without fantastical speed and made an ushering motion, inviting me silently to stand and follow him to the front door, not even twenty feet to our backs. I did as I… wasn't… told and raised to my shuffling feet, watching with barely suppressed intensity as he did the same, his shirt unbunching as his long legs swept past me. His strides were unhurried yet strong, quickly reaching the exit without me. Jasper’s slim fingers turned the knob gently and allowed the now open door to rest against his shoulder.

“I’m sure my brother will find you the moment you start walkin’. I have to get to some business caused by my early departure earlier.” My shoes scuffed the hardwood as I passed by him, the scent of firewood and malt whiskey light in the air of the threshold. I nodded again as I looked back at the giant southerner.

“So I’ll be making it back?” Half joking, half fearful the words slipped past my lips.

He smiled truly that time, his teeth hidden behind his smile. “Of course Isabella. No one plans to kill you… for as long as I can see.”

The door closed slowly as I turned away from him in only slight ease, the sound of his footsteps behind it unrecognizable. Texas dry wind called to me from the bare porch, wooden planks creaking ever so slightly underneath my weight. The world was quiet— in only a way nature could be quiet. Silence without loneliness.

Another diesel racket sounded over the slight hill in the property, some of the only patches clustered with shruby, overgrown trees.

“Bell!”

There was a smile hiding under the surface of my skin, not the least undetectable. My stride started up again as I half jogged through the crab grass and rusty dirt. It had to be almost two or three o’clock now, the sun high and bright in the cloudless sky.

Had the day gone by so fast— or so slow?

I couldn’t decide which it was. Not yet. Not now.

The baked exterior of my cab was just in sight over the small hill, somehow further away from the bare dirt trail than it had been this morning. Had the black eyed man… moved it? It didn’t run, at least not by my hand, he would’ve had to have pushed it… or picked it up.

God, Peter was starting to turn out more and more like the biggest Cullen boy by the second.

My shoes were caked in dead weeds and clay dust by the time I reached the freckled vampire— an attribute I still hadn’t made sense of. His cowboy hat was a stark black against his darkened porcelain skin. He smelt rough like a redwood forest, something private. Secluded. Peter’s hands were covered in the ink black of motor oil and grease, the solutions clinging to his perfect fingernails.

He had to be related to Jasper somehow, there's no way he wasn’t. I was sure of it.

Or maybe I was just hoping.

Silly girl.

His eyes could’ve mirrored his brother’s and I wouldn’t have noticed anything past the sight just behind him: my truck was pulled at the seams.

“Sorry bun, I think your baby might need some extra attention before it gets anywhere near a highway.” My breath was loose in my throat, air whistling behind my eyes. The transmission was the only thing complete under the hood. The engine block was propped up by a chain tied to a lone pecan tree, the rest of the assembly laid out on a blanket on the pitted ground. The well of tears hit the back of my eyes before he started to speak.

“I had to take the engine apart to diagnose the problem— something to do with some coils. It ain’t as bad as it looks, I promise, Bell.” I nodded for the fiftieth time that day, my words fleeting in the paralysing tunnel that had become my voice box. The only thing I had kept when I left was now in pieces at my feet, the soil unforgiving and rough against the cotton blanket they sat on. The downpour of fear came down my sinuses and filtered out through my spine, the tips of my fingers pulsing with thunder. Peter stood, apathetic to the storm raging through my body, his stance curling around my own slightly, as if in defense to the world around us, to the truth in front of me.

“How long will it take to fix?” My voice was weak and pitiful, stripped of its playful kick Peter initially instilled.

He twitched his shoulders in a shrug. “Could be a week or more. Maybe two.” His own speech didn’t reflect his burdening appearance. It was almost airy, a light glee hidden subtly behind the consonants.

My brain stored the small inflection for a much later time.

“You know,” he started, his massive wiped hand drawing to my shoulder, “me and the Major don’t mind some company around the house. The old thing could use some life in it while your truck gets some beauty work done.” His suggestion wouldn’t have sounded like such a question if anyone else had uttered it, but the draw of the Whitlock boys held a certain power over my otherwise powerless existence, at the moment. I wanted answers, stories, the in and outs of the clan I had called family as a younger girl.

I wouldn’t admit to anyone else my other wants.

Hell, I couldn’t even admit them to myself yet.

I made a sound in the back of my throat that made up for another nod and pursed my lips in false thought, the field stretching before me in an unwavering sea of curiosity.

“Only until she's fixed. I’ve served my time living with vampires for two lifetimes.”

There was an explosion of a laugh from Peter’s tan lips and I smiled in turn. The truck was a cesspool of terrifying possibilities, insecurities. But for right now, the horrible itch in my brain led me further into the immortal light.

The cold digits of the human drinker felt featherlight against my back as he sputtered to an airy stop. “You are truly something Bell.” My teeth poked through my lips as I looked into his face and found simple lineless skin and sandy curls. My eyes rested back on the rusted out birthday present and sighed. “Do you want any help?” It sounded almost like a plea, the time splitting me farther and farther.

He shook his head with vigor. “Baby doll, I’m not sure you’d make it go any faster.”

I had half a mind to slap him on the chest, no matter the bruising I’d sustain.

“I’m not that dimwitted.”

He sucked unneeded air through his teeth and let me go, stepping towards the hull. “Just believe me.”

I shook my head like a dumped dog and looked back towards the house, just barely noticeable at this distance. The question bounced around my stomach before it left my mouth, “What is Jasper up to?”

Peter raised a brow and picked up an impact wrench.

“I’m not sure you’d want to know.”

#southbound #my writing #jasper x bella #mine #writing #fanfiction #twilight #thetwilightsaga #twilight fanfic

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

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Hello everyone! Today is the one year anniversary of my favorite fic I’ve written (so far), Puzzle Pieces! I thought I’d give a full length director’s commentary to commemorate the occasion.

Spoilers for the fic below!

The idea for this fic stemmed from a few things. I’ve always been fascinated with the idea of a soulmate au where colors appear on your skin when you first touch your soulmate(s). I think I initially encountered this in a newsies fic that I’ve since lost track of that was heavily focused on platonic soulmates. I liked this convention because the possibilities for multiple soulmates are endless and I like the idea of colorful splotches on people. I also think that identifying soulmates via touch rather than the first sentence they say or some sort of other identifier gives a lot of opportunity for relationships to grow and develop before they know that they’re soulmates. I am always a little bothered when soulmate aus have people fall right into a relationship and kissing and intense emotions right away when the two people don’t know anything about each other. This seemed like a way to combat that a little, but I’ll speak more on that later.

The Beginnings

The first record I have of this fic is a message I sent to Helen on May 8, 2020. The fic was very much only in the idea stages then, as I took over three more months to write it and wrote Too Close to See during that time. A google doc for the fic wasn’t started until July 20, 2020, and it was titled “soulmate colors au.” My method for writing is going in order these days, and for this particular fic there wasn’t a specific scene that I started with in mind. I really was just going or it and making it up as I went, chugging along and seeing what happened.

The Colors

A pretty significant part of this fic is the colors. When I figured out that colors would appear on people when they touched, I knew that figuring out who had what color would be very important. Initially I was going to have each pairing have their own color (so for example cashton would both leave blue on each other but malum would both leave green on each other) but I quickly decided that I didn’t like that and that each individual should have a color that they leave, instead. I sent a message to Bella asking what colors she thought the boys would be, but I can’t find that message anymore and know that while it was similar it wasn’t quite right. Here’s some reasoning behind each of the boys’ colors:

Michael: I went with red not just because of the iconic red hair, but because it’s a pretty loud and brash color. Michael (especially when he was younger) doesn’t really filter things, wears a decent amount of his personality on his sleeve, and first reaction that said red to me

Calum: Calum has always been forest green. This is partially influenced by the empahty hoodie, even though it’s a bit brighter than the green in my mind for him here, but I also think green is a very dependable, stable color. (I used that color symbolism in one of my fall out boy fics years ago lol) It reminds me of pine trees, and I think Calum can give off that same sense of reliability in weathering the seasons. It’s a quieter color but can really pop next to another one. It also worked out nicely that Calum and Michael’s colors were compliments

Luke: Luke gets gold because he is a sunshine boy! Luke actually was the person I had the most trouble with, because I was flipping between gold, a lighter blue, or pink. Pink ultimately was too close to red to make me be able to visualize what the marks looked like on each boy to my satisfaction. It just looked ugly and clashing. I went with gold because there is a lot of outward brightness in Luke. He’s the kind of person where if he’s happy everyone else gets a bit happier, and gold also seemed fitting for the eventual shift into a rockstar and the amount of talent he has

Ashton: Ashton gets purple, but a deeper purple. Dynamic but still relatively stable, has a lot of depth. Purple is a secret color, but it’s still beautiful and it draws people in. When I visualize it it ends up being a really dark shade, but in reality he’s probably more of a royal purple than a plum purple. I feel bizarrely passionate about his color specifically. I don’t know why that is.

The colors didn’t have any sort of influence on the fic, but they were deliberately chosen.

The World of the Fic: Chosen Soulmates

So here’s the thing. I feel very strongly about love being a conscious decision that people make over and over. It takes work. It takes a deliberate commitment.

Soulmate aus kind of negate that.

So, how do you fix this? Well, I did that by having these marks not necessarily indicate soulmates. The way that the marks are described in the fic is that they indicate how easy it should be to love someone and how compatible two people are. It doesn’t automatically mean that you’ll adore them forever and never leave their side. You still need to put in the work. (Luke shows this early on when Michael asks if he loves Calum and he says “I don’t think I know him well enough for that yet. I know I will, because the colors say it should be easy and I want to, but not like you do.” He has made the decision to work toward loving Calum, but he knows that just having the colors doesn’t immediately make them love each other.) In that way, it almost isn’t a soulmate au, at least not in the traditional way. Things aren’t inevitable. There is still an element of choice.

This was also shown with Ashton. I don’t remember when I made the decision to give Ashton a Tragic Background with his dad, but I know it was relatively early because by the time I wrote his introduction I knew that would happen. I wanted to give a bit more of a reason for his hesitation to let them touch him, which I was already including because Ashton has always been the least touchy of the band, and I saw this as another opportunity to show that necessity of choice. It’s sweeter to me for the boys to choose each other rather than to just be stuck with each other, and if Ashton hadn’t actually been a soulmate of theirs then I wanted there to be the assurance that they could still love him just as much, because all love is chosen.

In the end, having a broken soulbond in Ashton’s past was a good way to accomplish all of that. It’s heartbreaking to not be chosen despite the fact that it should be easy, but once Ashton accepts that Michael, Calum, and Luke are vehemently choosing him with or without the soulmark, it makes his acceptance of their love very sweet to me. He’s saying that he trusts them to put in the work to love him. The scene where he talks to Michael in the car and the scene where he accepts their touches and soulmarks are probably my two favorite scenes in the fic.

The World of the Fic: Touch

In a world where the first skin-on-skin contact can indicate whether it’ll be extremely easy for you to love someone, how common would touch be? Would we greet people with handshakes still? Would gloves be more common fashion accessories? Would touching someone be a Big Deal?

Hence, the First Touch was born!

I figured that, with touch possibly being a lot more significant in this world, people would be a lot more careful about whether they make skin-on-skin contact. Kids would be taught that it’s impolite to try to touch someone, to a more extreme degree than they are now. Handshakes simply are not a greeting anymore. Instead, sometimes the first contact people make is considered a big deal, seeing as it can indicate whether two people are soulmates or not.

I figured that Luke especially would enjoy important first touches, because he’s a sentimental sweetie. Of course, his first touch with Michael ended up being special simply because it was with each other :)

This also let me really lean into Ashton being touch-adverse. Now on top of not liking touch, he also has another reason to avoid it, which makes every cuddle moment after the first touch even better, because he’s definitely touch starved. The band cuddles him so much once they share the colors.

The World of the Fic: Platonic Soulmates

Guys. GUYS. I love platonic soulmates. I love them a lot. I feel very passionately about them. Romantic love is not the pinnacle of human love, and as someone who cannot at this point see myself with a romantic partner I really wanted to ensure that platonic soulmates were a thing. Given that information, it’s a no-brainer that I included them in this fic. Part of the appeal of this type of soulmate au was that it gave opportunity for more than one soulmate and more than one type of soulmate. As such, platonic, familial, and romantic soulmates could all be indicated by the colors. I also really liked that there wasn’t any sort of differentiation between the types of soulmates. One type of love isn’t hailed over the others. It’s an even playing field here.

That was one of the things that immediately drew me to this type of prompt, actually. I wanted to write a fic about Michael parsing through his emotions and figuring out what he feels for Calum. The difference between platonic and romantic love has always been very interesting to me, because I find that the line can be pretty blurry personally. The best way to do that was to give him a set of soulmates who he cares about equally but in different ways.

The following excerpt really is the theme of the story to me: “Calum is an old, comfortable sweater, but Luke is like a favorite pair of shoes. They both fit him perfectly. He feels more at home when either of them are around, and although the love he has for Calum is different, he thinks he could love Luke just as much.” Each of us love everyone we meet a little differently, because everyone is a different person, but different doesn’t mean unequal.

While the fic is about Michael figuring himself out, it’s equally a love story between all four of them. The moments where Michael finds out he’s soulmates with Luke and Ashton were just as important to me as the moment he and Calum get together, and I really wanted to be sure that each relationship had it’s time in the limelight. That’s ultimately why the idea of puzzle pieces became a theme (that I added on editing). I like the idea of all of them coming together to create something bigger than themselves. They fit. They click. They are better for it. The first time someone referred to this as an ot4 fic it threw me off, because only malum is romantic in it, but I really like that classification for it, because it is.

Asexual Representation (Accidentally)

I didn’t know I was writing Michael as ace until about 4 days before I posted the fic.

Looking back, that’s a little bit ridiculous, because I was brainstorming this fic for three and a half months and actively writing it for two before I realized. I believe there was a conversation in the discord about ace rep in fics (Bella and I think Heath were part of it, I can’t remember any other participants), and I thought to myself “hey I’m ace and like ace rep, Michael in the soulmate colors au could probably be ace.” Lo and behold, he already was. All I had to do was add a few sentences and finish the fic (I hadn’t written the scenes in England yet).

My asexuality definitely influenced the way I had been writing Michael’s confusion over his feelings for Calum. Part of the reason I myself see the line between platonic and romantic as so blurry is because I’m ace and so much of romantic love in media is tied in with sexual attraction. When you don’t feel sexual attraction, that can get confusing, especially since most strong feelings of love are depicted to be romantic.

While Michael and I had very, very different paths to figuring out our sexualities, I drew on my own experiences of ace-ness to write him. This was a bit more apparent in the sequel scene Bedroom Activities, but it ended up becoming a core of the story. I genuinely don’t know how I didn’t realize that’s what I was writing.

As an ace person, ace rep means a lot to me, given how little of it is in popular media. I’m glad I explored it so early on in my 5sos fic career, and I’m proud of this one.

Miscellaneous Things

The process of writing this story was, as I stated before, pretty linear. I went from the start to the end without a lot of planning. I specifically had no clue what was happening at the Hot Chelle Rae afterparty until it was happening. The kiss came out of no where. However, I want to point out that initially I thought this fic would be 8k. It is now my third longest fic ever written. I have never learned to correctly estimate how long a fic I’m writing will be.

I have a few various favorite lines, but one repeated theme I love is Michael craving Calum’s touch. I say he’s touch-starved for him twice, once relatively early on and once at the end, and I love that Calum’s touch has been a constant for Michael. They had their first touch accidentally and became best friends immediately in the way that little kids do, so Michael has always had him as a constant, tactile presence in his life. That’s why losing him to Luke scared him so much and why then gaining Luke and Ashton as soulmates is so good for him.

I really like referring to Michael, Luke, and Calum as a triangle. I first did it in this fic, but it’s now my tag for the three of them. Idk I just like how equally distributed a triangle is, all sides touching, no one left out.

Branching off of this, one of my favorite lines is when Ashton and Michael do their first touch: “The dark purple reminds him of spilling grape juice on his clothes as a kid, and when he collapses into Ashton he feels like they could have known each other at that age, too.” There is something so charming about meeting someone later and feeling like you’ve known them your whole life, and that was significant here because Michael has known Calum and Luke since they were younger (although Luke did come in the picture when they were tweens/young teens instead of kids). I wanted to be sure that although Michael, Calum, and Luke are the triangle, Ashton is an equal part of their soulmate group. He doesn’t have the same history, but that doesn’t matter because it feels like he does.

Luke’s obsession with soulmate statistics is a convenient plot device and partially a result of his mom being a math teacher. Above all things, it’s a manifestation of his desire to be loved. The guy just wants to be loved!!! and he wants others to be loved, too!!!

This is by far my favorite fic that I’ve written. It’s not perfect (there are for sure two lines that I would change, and I think I could’ve done things differently with the very slight OCD I gave Michael that manifested in his hand washing), but I love it dearly. It’s the type of fic that I would’ve loved to read, and the response to it has been wonderful. Thank you to everyone who has read it and special shout out to everyone who has made it to the end of this very long director’s notes <3

#my writing #puzzle pieces #soulmate colors au #director's cut #y'all i love this fic i just really do idk what to say #i could've talked a little about the possibilities of a sequal #since i do have some ideas for one #but i don't have drive to write it right now #and idk if adding on would take away from the original #it wouldn't be michael's story anymore. i feel like puzzle pieces told that rather well #it would be ashton's story this time #anyway that's neither here nor there i have many other projects first

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twilitty · 3 years

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Waiting pt.3

Waiting

@twilitty

part 3/?

word count: 2.2k

warnings: none

read this first! Edward explores what is causing his wife to act so detached.

Edward was paralyzed with fear. It was a similar feeling to when he watched himself nearly drain Bella of her blood after James had bitten her. The feeling when Jasper nearly attacked and killed her. It was the feeling of a broken man who has now broken another person. He was a porcelain doll with cracks along his figure, and the beautiful, fragile doll next to him gets knocked over by some force that he’s caused.

Bella has been acting differently, more than should be expected after beginning her new life. She’s been unusually distant, taking her vehicle to Port Angeles and not telling him why. She chooses to hunt on her own in the mornings, but Edward knows that she is not only hunting. He can smell her trail when he goes out later in the afternoon, she takes a long route and ends up by the stream bed. No blood along the trail at any point, no scent of an animal she’s killed.

When Nessie is asleep she hands her off to Edward or Rose. When Nessie wakes up she’ll play momentarily before claiming to have forgotten to do something. It’s as if she shows no interest in her daughter, and why? She had chosen to have this child, chosen the child's life over her own. And now she seems disinterested in every aspect of her life.

This burning, paralyzing fear is what pulled Edward out of his home that evening. Entrusting his daughter to her more than willing aunt and uncle, he went to the treaty line.

Standing at the edge now his thoughts run circles around his feelings, taunting him and scaring him. Telling him he’s an awful father and husband, that he made a mistake when he chose to pursue a future with Bella. But what about my daughter? Regardless of his feelings towards his wife, he has to agree that his daughter was the best possible outcome.

All he had wanted was a future with his love, a future where him and Bella could live in peace. And they were given a beautiful daughter, warm brown eyes and red unruly hair. If he had to choose to go back in time and remain away, could he? I can’t imagine a life without her, he thinks mourningly. His daughter is his whole life, he spends every moment he can with her, he enjoys nothing more than being a part of her life.

When she smiles at something he’s done it’s as though his heart will simply burst. He cannot abandon his daughter, there is no reality where he can imagine ever doing so. His wife may be unhappy now, she may be secretive and reclusive, but that is a worthy price for bringing him his beautiful daughter.

“What do you want, old man?” It’s Jacob Black, standing on the other side of the treaty line. He’s in what likely used to be jeans but are now sliced along the thighs unevenly creating an unflattering pair of shorts. His chest is bare, as it always seems to be, and his hair is braided in two strips that fall over his shoulders. He had gotten Edwards' text.

After the birth of Nessie, Bella had appointed Jacob as the godfather, which very few found endearing. This sentiment had brought Jacob closer to the Cullens, often he would be found running perimeter around the family home or bringing new toys and clothing to the little girl. He wears a necklace around his neck that she had assisted in making for him.

It’s a pink shoelace with orange, yellow, and red beads laced through it. It was part of an arts and crafts project Jacob had brought over. He wears it constantly. It’s long and hangs down over his stomach so that when he shifts he can still wear it as a wolf.

Now, Jacob plays with it absently as Edward regards him with pressed lips. “Alright, bloodsucker, let’s spit out your words,” Jacob thinks with little sympathy. It’s a major blow to the vampire's pride to even broach the topic with this man, and knowing that the entire pack will soon hear about it does little to ease his conflicting emotions.

“I would like to discuss Bella with you,” Edward says formally. Jacobs eyes trail over him lazily, as if looking to pick out his flaws and toss them back in his face. “She better not be pregnant again.” Edward chooses not to respond to this. Of course she isn’t, it isn’t possible.

Finally Jacob responds out loud, “You already married her, what more do you want?” A smirk spreads over his lips, “If you’re looking for a second wife I’ll happily offer up Leah.”

“I don’t want anything-”

“Right, right, you’re so selfless and holy and better-than-thou,” Jacob snorts which only adds to Edwards mounting anger. “Let’s get this over with, colonizer.” Edwards eyes roll back in his head, arms crossing over his chest.

“Please, try and take what I am telling you seriously,” he says a little too forcefully. He doesn’t want to argue with Jacob right now, he’s trying to have a civil discussion and instead Jacob is taunting him. Can this boy not take anything seriously?

“Fine.”

Edward gives him a curt nod, “Thank you.” With an awkward glance around the forest, Edward begins his speech. “I was not present when Bella was going through her troubling… phase,” he says the last word gingerly as if not wanting to awaken it from it’s sleep.

“Depression,” Jacob corrects mentally. Edward cringes at the word but continues as if nothing was thought.

“But I have seen its worst parts through the minds of others. I am worried she may not be as happy as she once was. I’m concerned.” The statement doesn’t phase Jacob physically or mentally, instead his thoughts remain strangely silent and he merely shifts his weight to the other foot. “I’m not sure what to do, she is away today and I thought about following her-”

“Are you an idiot? Did you spend the last three hundred years working towards your doctorate in the school of dumbasses?” Jacobs' tone is cruel, his facts incorrect, and his demeanor more than a little concerning. He’s on the defence, as if something Edwards said has offended him. “Sometimes I wish kicking your ass wouldn’t force your daughter into therapy.”

If anything his poor daughter will need therapy from the infinite amount of insults her godfather trades with her father.

“So I’m going to assume you don’t think following her to an unknown location is not a good idea?” It’s a rhetorical question and the century old vampire quickly continues on, “Need I remind you that the second she thought her mother was in trouble she offered herself up on a silver platter?”

What was supposed to be a civil conversation has instead turned into a nasty argument, and Edward isn’t sure what caused the change. “Need I remind you that if there weren’t any vampires that wouldn’t be a problem?” Jacob’s words hit too close to home and he notices this when Edward winces at the statement. “What? You feel guilty now?”

“Yes, yes, I feel guilty because she very clearly is not happy!” Now Edward is yelling, matching Jacobs energy and escalating the situation even more than need be. “Do you not think I wish I could intervene? I have been trying to discuss this with her, bring up speaking to psychologist-”

“She doesn’t need a psychologist, she needs a friend.” Edward wasn’t meant to hear the thought and quickly Jacobs' mind focuses on the necklace between his fingers, trying to avoid that line of thought. “This wood is so smooth…”

“She has Rose,” Edward sputters uselessly, pale hands coming up as if to grasp his wife’s mentally well-being out of the air. “She has Alice, she has Esme. Her and Emmett get along quite well-”

“And she has me,” Jacob says aloud. His tone is quiet, stating a fact and nothing more. He isn’t looking to antagonize Edward and is no longer defensive. “And I’m the only one her age. The only one who isn’t a vampire. The only one who isn’t part of the family she married into.” It’s like running into a brick wall, the reality of the situation hits Edward in the face and it’s all he can do to not falter backwards a step to try and right himself.

His fingers begin to twitch at his sides, eyes eerily still as his brain processes the plausibility of what Jacob Black just told him. “She’s lonely?” He says at last, the word breaking as it escapes his lips and crashing to the floor like a porcelain doll. His wife, the woman who told him she wanted to be a vampire, wanted to spend eternity with him, is lonely?

“She’s-” Jacobs cut off as a howl rings through the forest. The noise echoes off the trees around them, Edward reads it through the other man's mind. It’s his turn to run perimeter around the reservation. “I’ve gotta go.” He turns around and sprints off into the shadows of the forest. His steps quicken and then are replaced by the heavy thudding of four paws. The sound of the wolf running quickly escapes Edwards hearing distance and the forest remains silent.

The vampire stands alone in the forest, the canopy of trees above him cutting off the filtered sunlight of the dreary day. How could his wife be lonely? Didn’t she choose this life?

He feels some piece of information stuck in the back of his mind, just out of reach and he growls in frustration. This was his family, his life, his wife. And of course he didn’t have a clue on how to fix any of it.

How could he have allowed this to happen?

It’s a split second decision that sends him through the woods, angling towards the nearest city. He’s the fastest of his family, matching miles in seconds and never needing to slow down or catch his breath. He doesn’t even need to breathe. It’s a wondrous escape from the bindings of human life, being able to exercise his supernatural body to the full extent of its abilities. His strides quicken as he pushes them to go faster, his muscles pull and release in perfect harmony and work upon their own accord.

Bella had experienced this as a human, clutching onto his shoulders as he tore through the forest with her on his back. It was everything he had wanted. Showing the girl he loved most the side of him that no other human got to see. And she had loved him back. Had. Where are her feelings now?

He slows as he reaches the edge of the highway, it’s lanes converging into slower moving traffic as the city opens before him. Brick buildings stand at attention along main street, the exteriors primed for maximum tourist appeal. Old signs hang from stoops over the doorways, restaurants and gift shops alike. Edward already knows the exact route he had taken when Bella had come here as a human, when she was trapped in that alleyway- “But where would she be now?” He asks himself aloud.

She had driven here, not run as he had. He supposes he could look for her vehicle and then trace her scent to her current whereabouts, but then what? He finds her and approaches her, tells her that he’s been searching her down to confirm that she does in fact still love him? No, he can’t do that, he knows that. Jacob had told him specifically not to do what he is currently doing. Not to follow Bella, don’t act like an idiot.

Yet, here he is. Acting against his and Jacobs better judgement.

He had purposely not spoken to his wife about her trips to Port Angeles because he didn’t want her to feel like she had to ask permission to leave. He wanted her to develop a sense of self as a vampire, not rely on him to sustain her only. He had wanted her to explore her new senses and abilities. He thought everything was going so well. Perhaps Rosalie was right, Bella was better off as a human.

He steps out of the forest, grateful for the dim sky which clouded his skin. He walked aimlessly towards the main street, allowing his senses to take in all that is around him. He smells the fresh bread of the bakery across the road, the sickly sweet scent of melted ice cream sitting somewhere in a trashcan. He smells everything, but comes up without his wife. He hears the cars and the chattering of people as they go about their mindless, petty tasks, but his wife is not anywhere on this street.

He eventually finds her vehicle, a black suv with tinted windows. She had parked at the opposite end of the city, under the shade of a large pine and beside a public park. He sniffs the air experimentally, her scent is travelling in every direction, but the north trail into the park is more potent. She’s been here recently. He looks through her passenger side window, a box of tissues sits on the seat alongside an open glasses case. None of them wear glasses, and this discovery startles him a little.

He follows the trail north.

- let me know if you want to be tagged when i upload!-

@edwardsmate4ever

#twilight #new moon #eclipse #fanfic #twilight 2008 #twilight saga #twilight renassiance #edward cullen #bella cullen #bella swan #fanfiction #headcanon #head canon #hc

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writingbakery · 4 years

Text

“an andorian, a bezoid, & a tessian walk into a bar”

another one of my favorite works is here! i originally wrote this for a different fandom, & rewrote it to fit here. i’m in love with this story, it’s one of my absolute favorites; please leave me feedback about it! a second part is in the works ✨ taglist; @secondhand-trash @redbeanteax @togasknifes

[some notes: denki is an andorian, a very tall race of aliens who are very nimble, skilled silent warriors when needed. hitoshi is a bezoid, from a mining planet, broad, tough, good with any sort of weapon but mainly guns, & you are a rare species called tessian, lil shapeshifting aliens that were often sold as slaves way back in the day on illegal black markets due to their skill! ULC means universal language chip, & the fleet is my version of the interspace police! ]

[pairing; poly!shinkami x reader]

[warnings; space jokes, cussing, dangerous scenarios, extremely Buff Aliens, violence, angst, fluff]

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

if you asked hitoshi shinsou what he would describe as a perfect day, he would tell you this: waking up in his quarters on the isla bella, the smooth glide of their ship through space flowing uninterrupted. there are no parts that need replacing, no angry merchants on their tail for undelivered merchandise, nothing but the clean quiet of the stars & the faint glow of space flitting through the small window by his bed, denki fast asleep against his chest. he’d card his fingers through the andorian’s glimmering gold hair, kiss along the slope of his nose & bask in his quiet beauty. that would be a perfect day for him; lounging in bed with his freakishly tall, giggly lover without a care in the world.

the last thing he’d consider to be a perfect day is running across the burning - literally in flames burning - sand of a deserted planet with two grogorians firing photon lasers at his skinny ass, skidding between the roaring flames of the ground beneath him & the sting of the lasers with denki screaming unintelligible commands & curses in his ear via comm. he’d consider that a bottom of the barrel kind of day.

you can probably guess which kind of day he’s having.

cursing under his breath as he slips between the burning flames, he does a cursory peek around the open desert, eyes searching for the opening that denki was furiously insisting “was right there, hitoshi shinsou for the love of god open those damn sultry bezoid eyes and LOOK” - he refuses to acknowledge the compliment, focused on the seven million fucking grains of sand & his boyfriends panicked voice in his ear when he finally spots it. a haze in the heavy heated air, almost like a mirage, a split in the vast landscape that led down somewhere dark, hidden. he lets out a sigh of relief loud enough for denki to hear, a sign that he’d found the entrance, before a photon blast skims just past his ear, leaving a three inch skidded burn across his cheek.

oh right. the grogorians.

stealing from the grogorians was the stupidest goddamn idea denki had ever come up with, which was saying a lot; once, he’d thought the seven suns on Naboor all rose & fell at the same time, shrieking in hitoshi’s ear about “planetary instability” & “socio-economic collapse” for a full ten minutes before he saw the suns rising & falling one after the other, in turns. that had been a field day, not one hitoshi was eager to repeat. the grogorians were fiercely territorial, completely tucked away from modern civilization & technology, & were at least seven feet tall. you could fit two shinsous in one of their chests; he wasn’t quite ready to see that up close.

ducking & weaving across the barren landscape, he slides through the slit in the ground with practiced ease; he’s run for his miserable life far too many times at this point. he can hear the grogorians shouting above the hole in the ground, too big for them to pass through, & he winces as his ULC - universal language chip, something kaminari had insisted he get implanted- deciphers the strangled words into curses he can understand. he’s really glad his parents are dead, because whatever blood curses the grogorians are spitting at his family tree sound awful.

the cavernous tunnels he’s slid down into are cool, spacious; coned lights illuminate the rocky path deeper & deeper into the planet. its all but deserted, the only inhabitants the two grogorian guards he’d narrowly escaped from. denki’s voice filters in through the comm again, calmer now that hitoshi was safely inside.

“we’ve got twenty minutes max before their distress signal goes through,” the andorian warns him, tracking the surrounding space around the planet from the isla bella. “follow the main tunnel straight through. the crown should be there. ten minutes to get there, i phase you straight out, we fucking book it into warp drive & we’ll be seven million credits richer by tomorrow morning. and you can finally treat me to dajang.”

hitoshi rolls his eyes despite the fact that denki can’t actually see him, trudging through the tunnels a little wearily. “remind me again why i always have to be the one getting shot to hell & back?” he grumbles as he walks, no real heat to his voice.

“you love my ass too much to risk it getting shot at, baby you know that,” denki laughs through the comm, ever poking fun at hitoshi’s expense & he’s sure to give the andorian a long, drawn out sigh before switching off the comm & pushing further into the darkness.

denki’s right though, hitoshi muses as he moves, his eyes glinting violet in the lamplight. the bezoid would rather die than see denki in any veritable danger, keeps him up on the ship to guide him & yank his ass out at the first inkling of a problem.

he’d been protecting the stupidly tall, wildly cheery andorian from the first day they’d met, cooped up in some stuffy bar off V-7. he’d had absolutely zero self-preservation skills even then, picking a fight with a damned Dervisian of all people, just because the man had insulted his shirt. hitoshi, not overly fond of watching handsome morons get punched in the face by meatsacks twice their size - & maybe he appreciates the long, toned legs & pretty face a little more than he lets on - steps in with ease, no matter how short he feels between the two of them. the dervisian cracks a height joke, because he’s an asshole, denki stabs him in the shoulder with a four inch dagger he pulls out of his too tight pants - & of course hitoshi spends far too long wondering just how he managed to fit it in the first place, mind all fuzzy - & they somehow manage to kick off an interspace bar fight. wonderful.

once the dust has settled & the chaos calmed, hitoshi finds himself with three new bruises, a cut cheek, & an armful of very grateful andorian.

“i hear the fleets coming. wanna get married?” denki wiggles his eyebrows suggestively, & hitoshi chokes on his own spit.

“what for? they’re keepers of the peace, not wedding officials,” he manages, glaring up at the - stupidly tall, stupidly pretty - andorian that’s managed to wrap himself into his arms.

“if you’re married they can’t deport you. i’d really like to avoid interspace jail,” denki winces, & hitoshi snorts.

“or we could run, like normal deviants of the law,” he points out, much to denki’s chagrin.

“and where is the fun in that?” the andorian pouts, & hitoshi knows he’s screwed.

four years, seven interspace incidents, four run ins with the fleet, & one rusting junktrap of nuts & bolts they called a ship later, they were inseparable. one complete idiot with a penchant for charming the pants off everyone around them & simultaneously launching them into trouble, & his over exasperated, eternally exhausted boyfriend, who was consistently saving his ass. they were an unlikely duo, but they worked like magic, & despite the fact that he had to risk his ass every damn day, hitoshi was pretty happy. him & denki made a little solar system all their own, a shining sun & its orbiting planet, & he likes that. he’s happy.

as happy as a thief for hire could be, really.

the problem with their particular profession, however, is that denki is basically one big ass radar for trouble. if something can go wrong, it will go wrong, disastrously so, & hitoshi is always caught in the middle of it, fleeing for his life with someone shooting at his ass (it’s always his ass, & he can never understand why. )

it’s for that reason, & that reason only, that hitoshi is the one creeping down the dark, deep tunnel, his nerves frayed as he keeps his eyes trained on every nook & cranny surrounding him. he can see the faint glow of an upcoming room ahead & hurries his pace, eager to grab the crown & escape, maybe finally treat denki to that dajang he’d been whining about - he’d never been fond of the strangely shimmery, horned fish, but if it made denki happy, he wasn’t going to complain.

the tunnel opens up into a small, brightly lit room, warm & pulsing with energy. the grogorians kept the crown here for good reason, the sheer amount of dead souls crafted into the metal & jewels enough to make anyone’s skin crawl. hitoshi gingerly steps closer, hands twitching at his sides as he moves into the light and - wait a minute.

wait a goddamn minute.

there’s a person on the raised pillar, small & decidedly not threatening. your little body is curled loosely around the crown, shivering gently, & hitoshi realizes several things all at once:

one, the tiny body is a tessian, and a young one at that, a couple years younger than himself.

two, the grogorians have definitely arrived earlier than scheduled. fuck. he clicks on his comm to hear denki screaming incoherently about danger, & winces heavily.

great.

third, the booming, heavy rumbles of the grogorian ship - & denki’s frantic yelling - has woken you up, the little tessian, arms still caging the crown close to your chest as though seeking out its warmth.

up close, hitoshi can see a smattering of pink freckles dusted across your honey gold cheeks, bright, messy hair falling into big, bright eyes. you yawn, then blink, eyes flashing & settling into a light, rosy pink at the same time your little fluffy ears twitch atop your head, a matching color to your eyes. your tail twitches slightly, four light gold rings wrapped around it, & it’s obvious you’re about young adult age. you yawn again, a tiny, unfiltered squeak escaping you at the sight of hitoshi in front of you.

you’re absolutely adorable. hitoshi is absolutely fucked.

dimly, he registers denki’s panicked shouts & the shaking of the tunnel walls, can feel the ground trembling beneath him, & he snaps out of his reverie to glance at the crown again. said crown is tucked up against your torn shirt, tessian hands - so delicate, so cute - keeping it close.

“hey, hey! don’t touch that! there’s like, eight thousand dead people in there,” hitoshi scolds before he can think, & you simply cock your head, confusion written all over your face.

“no, don’t squeeze it tighter - stop it! hey! are you even listening?” he seethes, reaching out a hand to snatch the crown away. you shift back quickly, frowning just as deep as hitoshi as you hug the crown even closer. it’s clear you can’t understand a word hitoshi is saying, & the grogorians have started some sort of blasting contest right outside the caverns.

great.

hitoshi swears under his breath, racking his brain for any sort of solution. “hitoshi shinsou, you are ASKING to die, they’re blowing the fucking cave open! can i phase you out yet? you too busy admiring that handsome face of yours in the stupid crown’s fucking reflection?” denki sounds hysterical, voice on the verge of near meltdown & hitoshi knows he’s out of time.

he’s got two options: stay & deal with the grogorians, or run.

he runs.

leaning forward, he tucks both hands under your armpits & yanks you forward, tosses you over his shoulder, & books it out of the tunnel.

he can barely hear anything over the blood rushing in his ears, your tessian wails, & one denki kaminari screeching like the world’s ending.

“phase me out phase me out PHASE ME OUT-“ he’s shouting above the din, phaser blasts surrounding him on all sides, & he doesn’t stop running until he feels the familiar pins & needles of the transporter, turning them into a mess of glittering gold dots that wink out just as a grogorian fires right where hitoshi’s head had been.

he slams into the floor of the isla bella with a groan, denki immediately in front of him. he sits up slow, careful not to shift too abruptly & disrupt the reanimation process, when denki snatches you right out of his arms.

“hitoshi what the fuck, you were only supposed to grab the crown, not adorable little tessians! and what were you doing down there, young alien?” denki has gone into full andorian mode, pinching your little tessian cheeks as he sits you in his lap - hitoshi’s just glad he’s got the sense not to do that to him.

you still can’t seem to understand, tilting your fluffy bright head of hair as you stare up at denki. you chirp, then hum, one hand reaching up to pet denki’s head, before smiling brightly.

denki coos. hitoshi snorts.

“i found them sleeping on the crown. they can’t understand us, they don’t have a ULC, so i just grabbed ‘em & ran,” hitoshi explains, getting up to ensure that they were in hyperspace, blasting millions of lightyears away from the grogorians. he chances another glance at the tessian sat comfortably in denki’s lap; you’re a little dirty, clearly having been stranded in the caverns a few days.

denki frowns at hitoshi’s back, brushing over the phaser burn on the ass of his pants with one hand as he speaks.

“the poor thing must be terrified, being surrounded by all that. switch your ULC to interpret mode, at least we’ll be able to understand them, & talk to them,” denki says quietly; looking down at the fluffy bundle of tessian in his arms. hitoshi can already see the gears turning in his head.

once they’ve switched settings, denki speaks.

“what’s your name, sweetheart?” he asks softly, clearly trying to make you comfortable.

the series of chirps & coos you let out shift almost in midair, turning themselves into words that hitoshi can actually understand.

“[y/n]? [y/n l/n]? oh that’s so cute! tell us, [y/n], why were you down there all by yourself?” denki prods, voice still soothing & calm. you, the tessian - [y/n], hitoshi thinks, too precious - sit up a bit, animatedly speaking now that they can understand you better. the squeaks & chirps are downright adorable, & hitoshi has to look away from flailing hands & a sunbeam smile to center himself again.

“and what were the lot of you thinking, sneaking down there? your whole little tribe, just gone, huh? i’m so sorry, sweetheart,” denki winces, & hitoshi can sympathize - tessian tribes were tight-knit little groups, & losing them meant a death sentence for whoever was left behind. they were pack creatures, always in need of others. hitoshi can see the gears turning, & he speaks before the andorian can.

“no, denki.”

“toshi! look at them, aren’t they the cutest thing you’ve ever seen! we have to keep them!” denki all but wails, pulling you so close to his chest that your cheeks squish together. you don’t seem concerned in the slightest, just giggle against denki’s face. hitoshi’s resolve weakens a little.

“we’ve got no space, denks, not to mention we’re not exactly the safest group for them to latch onto,” hitoshi protests weakly, even as the andorian pouts at him.

“we can’t just leave them alone, they’re so small, & no one will protect them!” denki is dangerously close to tears, & hitoshi never does well with a crying denki. he opens his mouth to protest again, try & make his point, but just then you yawn again, slow & long, the tiniest of squeaks escaping you & when you open your eyes again, they’re gold just like denki’s hair, your ears matching.

hitoshi’s determination evaporates.

“fine, fine, we can keep them. but if anything happens to them, it's your fault,” he grumbles, settling into the pilot's chair to monitor their progress.

denki cheers. you chirp happily.

hitoshi bangs his head on the control panel.

what have i gotten myself into this time, he thinks dully, but deep down, he knows he doesn’t mind. not too much.

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

after finally managing to pry the crown out of your hands & delivering it to the client - hitoshi doesn’t even wanna know what the creepy old Lavastian wanted with it, he’d had to take three showers under the hydrospray to get the itch off his skin - they’ve set a course for the driard system, to rest before their next assignment. being that their work schedule is so…flexible, it gives the trio a little time to get adjusted. and by adjusted, hitoshi means getting used to having you, a fluffy little alien, hanging off him at all hours of the day.

he’d thought that denki was clingy, the andorian typically seeking out hitoshi’s hands to hold or shoulders to rest his head. his people were affectionate that way, much different than hitoshi’s bezoid counterparts. he’d adjusted though, sacrificed personal space & eventually, had grown both used to & comfortable with having denki draped over him like a blanket at all times.

[y/n l/n] is an entirely different species - literally & figuratively.

firstly, you’re a clinger. where denki lounges, you squeeze with - surprisingly - strong arms & legs, wrapped around hitoshi’s frame like a verealis vine.

you’re so touchy you’ve got denki beat, & the pair of you seem stuck in some sort of exceedingly needy, relentless cuddle war. hitoshi’s got his money on you, even if he doesn’t admit it.

secondly, you’re scarily helpful. you seem to turn up right when hitoshi needs something adjusted deep in the ship, or when denki can’t seem to locate something correctly on their navigational screen. you’ll shapeshift into a teeny, tiny ragran rat to scurry through chambers & fix a wire, or tap on the control panel just so to show the correct star system, & its quite frankly impressive.

hitoshi’s starting to think you were made for them, just a little.

normally he leaves the sappy shit to denki, the andorian’s well flowered language easily explaining all his emotions & thoughts. but there’s something about the little tessian that shakes him up a little, changes the dynamic. denki doesn’t mind one bit.

he relishes in hitoshi’s newfound sweetness, even if it’s just a “that wasn’t completely awful, great job, babe,” or “you know, that shirt isn’t as hideous as i thought. brings out your eyes.” he knows hitoshi is simply trying his best, knows that words never got very far on his home planet.

you like that he’s quiet though, for some reason. you chirp & chatter enough for the both of you whenever you’re together, silly stories of whatever disasters you & denki had gotten into on the ship - hitoshi’s suspicious you’re both responsible for the six broken panels along the corridors, impromptu games of touch & go be damned - or telling him memories of your time on Tessero, your home planet. you’ve got an easy way of speaking, soft & languid & it calms him down like no other, settling into his bones & dimming the chaos in his mind for a little while.

your cuddliness extends even to when you’re asleep, tucked up neatly between denki & hitoshi in the big bed of their quarters. you’re a calm sleeper, curl up tight into a little ball with the pair of them draped over you, like a tiny tessian heater. it’s sweet & soft & so fucking domestic that hitoshi has a hard time believing it sometimes. he’d even started pressing kisses into the top of your head as he moved along the ship, much like the gentle ones he presses to denki’s lips. he’s not scared by it, per say, but he is a little surprised; he’d always been a little closed off, reserved. you had snuck up on him swiftly, without him even realizing. he finds he rather likes it.

the few days of travel before you reach the driard system are calm, simple evenings of dinner & talking together as you all soak up the simplicity of space. somehow, it’s comforting. you’re a twinkling, bright little star amidst their solar system, & hitoshi likes that. a shining sun, its orbiting planet, & the brightest little star.

───── ⋆✩⋆ ─────

everything goes to shit once they step foot on Ovalia 7.

the leisure planet is tucked at the edge of the star system, a quiet haven for those always on the move. it’s denki’s favorite place to go after a successful deal, & they serve the best dajang this side of the galaxy. hitoshi likes that no one ever speaks to them there, everyone wrapped up in their own little vacations.

denki books them a room at their usual spot, ignoring the innkeepers curious glance at the request - one big bed, a nice tub, window view, & hitoshi’s certain he thinks you’re all a couple. the thought doesn’t bother him, & he realizes with a jolt that they act like one, all three of them. they cuddle & hug & kiss, & hitoshi sits on that a moment before shrugging it away. if denki didn’t mind it, neither did he, & he focuses once more on relaxing.

they’ve just settled into a local restaurant, plates full of dajang & ocuro & everything else that tickle their fancy when hitoshi hears it. heavy steps, familiar ones, although he can’t quite place it in the haze of relaxation. he ignores it in favor of feeding you some of his mulrag, the spiced meat a clear favorite with your tessian palate & he can’t help his grin. he lets denki feed him a warm bite of dajang, rolling his eyes at the andorian’s little smile & affectionate pinch of hitoshi’s cheek. everything is nice, sweet & lazy in the warm air.

and then all hell breaks loose.

eight of the biggest fucking grogorians hitoshi’s ever seen in his life burst through the door, weapons armed & faces set in such hostile expressions that everyone is scattering. denki hauls you up & to his side, dragging hitoshi by the collar until you’re all crouched behind the bar, hidden from view. “i should’ve known they’d track us,” he all but whines, peeking over the wooden edge of the bar. a photon shot quickly makes him duck down again, cursing lightly. “plan?” he asks behind clenched teeth, tugging you closer.

hitoshi pauses, weighs his options.

“the two of you book it to the ship. i’m going to distract them,” he says quickly, thinking back to the conversations he’d been eavesdropping on earlier - thieves never took a real vacation, always on the lookout for something new to snatch.

two very drunk, loud Avarians had been seated just behind them, rambling on about the very expensive, very valuable statue hidden deep in the recesses of the abandoned temple just off the main road. many had tried to steal it, but had always gotten stuck deep in the underground channels trying to escape. the elders guarding it weren’t exactly friendly either.

a plan starts to form in his head, one that would both enrich them & save their asses from this absolute mess. he’s quite proud of himself, if he’s honest.

then a bottle explodes just above his head, & he jolts into action.

he fires a few warning shots at the wall behind the grogorians, turning & racing out the door in a clear attempt to lead them out. the grogorians take the bait easily, & he races down the road towards the temple as you and denki sneak out the back of the restaurant.

the temple is huge, dusty & a little worn around the edges. the priests guarding the door take one look at hitoshi shinsou, panting & shooting over his shoulder at several grogorians & lose it, screeching & running for cover just as he’d expected. he pushes through the open door with the hostile aliens right at his footsteps, racing through the dark corridors deeper & deeper into the bowels of the temple. halfway down denki clicks onto the comm, hastily spitting directions & instructions as the grogorians start shooting again. “this is all your fucking fault! i told you stealing from them was an awful idea!” hitoshi shrieks as a laser just misses his shoulder, ducking as he runs.

“oh sure, blame me for making sure we stay employed!” denki shrieks right back, your chirping frantically frantically filling the background.

hitoshi feels the heat of another photon bullet just barely graze against his ass as he books it down the narrow hallway, cursing every single god & denki kaminari for the absolute mess he’s been roped into. over the comm link he can hear the andorian yelling muted commands as he leads hitoshi through the vast hallways, the relic just within arms reach.

“i’ll phase you out once you have it!” denki starts, before hitoshi starts shouting again.

“i’m not gonna PHASE through solid rock, denki! just hold off, i’m coming!” he yells through the comm, feet skidding across the rough terrain as he snatches the little gold statue right off the podium. concerned little chirps & squeaks flood the comm, & hitoshi halts all his movements to swear loudly.

“[y/n l/n], you keep your adorable little ass on the ship, you hear me? don't even THINK about it-“ the ground shakes with another blast, the heavy yelling creeping from the farthest corridor.

hitoshi curses every single god & denki kaminari twice. and then he runs.

the maze of corridors gets more & more confusing as he bolts through them, solely relying on denki’s guidance in his ear & the gunfire right on his heels. finally, finally he can see sunlight again, pushing through the open door & stumbling into the street again - right into the waiting trap of about ten grogorian soldiers.

great.

they’d cornered him on both ends, trapping him in their space. denki’s shouting frantically, something about shield interference & blocking & hitoshi’s stomach sinks; they’ve got him.

“go to warp drive.” his voice is so sharp it shocks denki right out of his panicked rambling, the comm quiet.

then a furious “what the fuck did you just say hitoshi shinsou? we’re not leaving you-“

“take [y/n], & go to warp, denki! go, i can hold them off for a little while! the verlo sector, it’s rural enough that they can’t track you!” he bites out, eternally grateful that the grogorians don’t have ULC’s. he eyes them for a moment, takes a breath.

“i love you, denki kaminari, you crazy motherfucker. i love you. i love you too, [y/n]. take care of him for me,” he says softly, lets himself choke up a little, grants himself that one weakness. then he clicks his comm off, draws both his guns, & snarls. “let’s go, assholes! i don’t have damn day!” he shouts, keeps his voice level & confident.

and then he starts firing.

left, right, over his shoulder, he’s never shot so many times in his life, & its still not enough. there’s grogorians on every side, dodging every blast & hitoshi’s resigned himself to dying on this shithole lesiure planet, never seeing denki’s stupid bright smile again, or hearing your laugh.

and then he hears it, loud & wild & it makes both his heart soar & stomach sink.

“STOP SHOOTING MY BOYFRIEND YOU FUCKING JACKASSES!”

there stands denki kaminari in all his andorian glory, six foot six of anger & pent up chaotic energy standing just off the side of the gunfire. he gives hitoshi one big, blinding smile before he’s shooting right alongside him, the pair of them back to back as they fire.

“where’s [y/n]?” hitoshi calls over the sounds of the blasters, too emotional & charged up to address the fact that denki came to save him, denki who always, always stayed on the ship.

“i told them to monitor us from up there! once we take out these shields i can phase us up, i brought the control sleeve!” denki yells back, twisting & ducking as the grogorians rain fire on them.

the pair of them are deadly, lethal even, taking down one hostile alien after another until their guns run out. hitoshi curses at the dead weapon, tossing it to the side as he prepares to fight the remaining six grogorians hand to hand. beside him, denki gets into a similar stance, eyes narrowed sharply in defense.

“enough!” a voice bellows, harsh & loud, ringing out across the entirety of the street. hitoshi pauses, dread building up in the pit of his stomach. the grogorians part, & he hears denki gasp beside him.

the grogorian leader steps out slowly, every step sending a thundering rumble across the land. “you steal from us, fight us at every turn. your intolerance is shameful,” the alien snarls, fury written all over his face. hitoshi doesn’t point out that the grogorians stole that particular relic from the Astonians, & the fact that they’d been chased, not chasing. he has a feeling the man wouldn’t appreciate his sentiments.

“i will kill you myself ! your arrogance knows no bounds!” the alien thunders, hands reaching for the sword tucked into his belt. its easily the size of hitoshi’s entire body, & his blood runs cold.

“since we’re about to die, it’s time i fess up. i’m the one who broke your music box,” denki whispers behind him, hands clinging tight to the back of hitoshi’s shirt.

“oh for god's sake you idiot, we’re about to die & that’s what you tell me?”

“i’ve always loved your ass in these pants. skinny or not, they give you shape,” denki says tearily, & hitoshi nearly screams.

“denki shut up, for the love of space - stop fondling my ass, we’re about to die-“

a set of angry, loud chirps interrupt them all, the grogorian leader turning & snarling. hitoshi stops breathing.

there, in all your tiny tessian glory, stands you, [y/n l/n], clad in hitoshi’s favorite leather pants & denki’s too big sweater. your eyes are narrowed, an expression of pure fury on your face that hitoshi’s never seen before.

it’s a little hot. denki seems to agree, if the gasp he lets out is any indication.

the alien laughs, staring down at you almost in amusement. “come to watch them die, little one? i could probably get a hefty price for you, couldnt i? maybe pleasure slave, the markets always up for those.” you chirp angrily. hitoshi sees red.

“don’t you fucking touch them-“ he snarls, all traces of fear gone as he shoves the grogorian back, fists clenched. behind him, denki spits, eyes lit up with that special kind of rage hitoshi only sees when he's really caught up, the anger boiling in his blood. the grogorian shoves the pair of them back so hard they go sprawling in the dirt, his voice a growl as he steps towards them. “you dare touch me?” he bellows.

behind him, you let out a sound somewhere between a screech & a growl. and then you start shifting.

hitoshi knows that you can shift into any number of things, he’s not stupid. but they’d all been limited to small, cute things, adorable & easy to hold.

the form you take on is neither adorable or small.

a sixteen foot, scaly dragon stands before them, with the face & claws of a lion & the fiery rage of a bat out of hell.

hitoshi screams. denki nearly pisses himself.

the grogorians scatter, shouting & running & you pick them off easily, picking one up between your claws & tearing him clean in half. the rest die in a similar fashion, tossed against buildings & burned alive when they get too close to your flaming breath. the leader dies last, your sharp fangs tearing him limb from limb until he’s a tattered pile of mush at their feet. its singlehandedly the most horrifying, yet gratifying thing hitoshi’s seen in his life.

you shift back to your original form easily, small hands & cheeks covered in blood. there’s a bit of grogorian in your hair. you smile up at them like nothing happened, let out little chirps & squeaks & hitoshi is stunned, really.

denki pulls the bit of grogorian away from your fluffy ears, before wiping the blood off your cheeks & tugging you into a kiss. it’d be cute, if there wasn’t so much carnage around them. you smile up at hitoshi, chirps out something about love and tribe and home.

hitoshi pulls you into a hug, kisses the faintly bloody fluffy hair, & laughs.

“let’s go home,” he agrees easily, takes denki’s hand & thinks, for a moment, that he’s complete.

denki smiles so bright it puts the sun to shame, & you giggle into his chest, cheery as a star.

all the bits align just right, he thinks, & leads his little solar system home.

#bnha shinsou #bnha kaminari #shinkami #shinkami x reader #poly fic #shinsou x y/n #shinsou x you #shinsou x reader #kaminari x reader #kaminari x you #alien fic #space opera #evywrites #bnha fic #boku no hero fanfic

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lesboaliceswan · 4 years

Text

now ’til forever it’s all of me, all of you, just take my hand (Bella x Rosalie)

request: Bella and Rosalie? (Either clean or nsfw works) For Anon

warnings: femslash pairing, a little talk of rape

word count: 1,869

a/n: hey anon! this was just run through grammarly, i apologize for mistakes. this is probably crappy but i like it, so here goes...

“How would you like to go on a date with me?” Rosalie blurted out one day in the parking lot. She glanced over at her family, and was met with shocked faces. Up until now, she had pretended that she hated the annoying teenager, but it was all a façade. She knew Bella was her mate from the beginning, but she didn’t want to have to put her family in danger. She just couldn’t stay away from her anymore. Her inner musings were interrupted by a shocked Bella stammering, trying to get her words out. She couldn’t form a complete word, and at that moment Rosalie knew she had to step in. She lightly grabbed the human girl’s hands and squeezed them ever so slightly.

“You don’t have to go with me if you don’t want to, I won’t pressure you into anything,” Rosalie explained and Bella furiously shook her head. That was not the answer Rosalie was expecting. The mate bond is felt by humans as well, but normally it isn’t nearly as strong. She was assuming that Bella would refuse and Rosalie would have to try again later. That wasn’t the case, as Bella squeezed Rosalie’s hands back and smiled.

“I would love to, Rosalie, you just caught me off guard.” Rosalie cringed at the slight hurt in Bella’s voice. She felt bad for making Bella feel like she didn’t like her. Rosalie just wasn’t good with emotions.

”How about this Saturday? I can pick you up if you’d like? Or not if you’d rather use your truck, although I’d rather you not drive that rust bucket back and forth-“ Bella cut Rosalie off from her rambling and smiled at her. Bella thought she was cute when she was nervous.

”Rose, you can pick me up if that makes you feel better. Just breathe.” The taller girl smiled at her shorter mate. She always knew how to make her feel better. Rosalie nodded and began to walk back to her family. When she got there, no one said a word, but everyone’s eyes were on her.

”What the hell was that?” Edward screeched. Rosalie winced at the volume of it. Super sensitive vampire ears don’t go well with an annoyed brother. Rosalie just shrugged.

”Asking out my mate, I guess.” All her family members gasped, including Edward and Alice. Edward quickly calmed down when he heard those words, but still seemed confused.

”Why did you let me try to get close to her if you knew she was your mate? Also, how didn’t I know this?” Alice echoed his last sentence, although she looked even more confused than Edward.

”I didn’t want her to be my mate. I didn’t want to ask her, but I couldn’t help myself.” Edward sighed and Alice squealed at the love-struck grin on Rose’s face.

”Understandable. I just wish I’d have know before I went through all that pain-“ Rosalie snarled at the other vampire.

”Put a sock in it drama queen, we all understand how terrible it must’ve been to be near her, even though I killed all my rapists without drinking a single drop of their blood. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have a date to plan” With that, Rosalie hopped in her car with Alice and sped off.

Needless to say, Edward didn’t say a word to Rosalie for the rest of the day.

Saturday...

“Okay, I think it’s all set,” Rosalie whispered to herself as she looked at the picnic area she had set up. It wasn’t Edward’s meadow, it was ten times as good. It was a little hike away from the road, but not too far away.

Rosalie smiled to herself and ran back home to get in her car and drive to Bella’s house. She just hoped she would get this right.

Meanwhile...

”Bella, stop freaking out, it’s just Rosalie” Bella internally scoffed at herself for saying that. That’s the whole reason she was freaking out, because it’s Rosalie. She would never look as good as the other girl, not in a million years.

As Bella looked in the mirror, she was slightly taken aback at what she saw. Her hair was lightly curled and fell just below her shoulder. She had on an oversized flannel shirt that she stole from her dad, a black, tight-fitted crop-top, and light blue skinny jeans. She looked hot. She smiled to herself as she took in her appearance once more. It was casual, but she made it look good. She just hoped Rosalie would like it.

Just then, her doorbell rang. Her heart rate sped up and she heard a light chuckle from outside the door. Apparently, Rosalie had heard the change. Bella raced down the stairs, tripping twice but catching herself on the railing, and finally opened the door.

”Hi” Bella meekly said, which earned another chuckle from the blonde vampiress. Rosalie smirked at the younger girl, but it was wiped off her face as she took in her appearance. Bella smiled to herself at the look in the vampire’s eyes. Apparently, the outfit was acceptable.

”You look amazing, Bella” Rosalie said, and there was not a trace of doubt in her tone. She truly believed Bella looked flawless.

Bella raked her eyes over Rosalie’s form and her mouth instantly went dry. She had a light brown blazer overtop a black turtleneck. Her bottoms were plaid dress pants, and her shoes were short heels. It was normal of Rosalie to leave people speechless, but never to this extent before. Bella physically couldn’t speak for what felt like forever, but in reality was just a few seconds.

”Wow.” Bella mentally smacked herself at her lack of filter. Luckily, Rosalie understood what she was trying to say and giggled before responding with a soft “Thank you.”

”You ready to go?” Rosalie asked and Bella nodded. They both couldn’t wait for this night. Rosalie hoped Bella would enjoy, as this could make or break their relationship.

It didn’t take long to get there, and soon enough, Rosalie was pulling into a little abandoned driveway. Bella looked confused, but Rosalie smiled in reassurance and got out of her car. Of course, she opened Bella’s door for her, she always would.

”Hop on” Rosalie said and motioned to her back. Bella looked hesitant, but obliged. Rosalie took off as soon as Bella was secured into her back, and Bella let out a small shriek. Rosalie laughed, a loud boisterous sound. She was free out here, there was no one to hear her other than the woman on her back. Bella chuckled too, mainly at herself, but also at how a loud sound like that came out of a prim and proper lady from the 1930s.

Bella gasped at the sight as Rosalie screeched to a halt. The meadow was beautiful, even more so than Edward’s. There was a large lake in the middle, but the thing that caught her eye first was the picnic table Rosalie had set up. Bella grinned to herself, and then towards Rosalie. The blonde sighed in relief as she saw the look on her face. Apparently she had done good.

”Wait, what are you gonna have?” Bella frowned as she realized that Rosalie didn’t eat.

”I’ve already got that covered. Well, c’mon, let’s go sit.” Rosalie grabbed Bella’s hand and brought her to the table. As they sat down, Alice walked out of the woods and brought them their food in a picnic basket. Alice insisted she help, so Rosalie gave her this job to keep her happy.

”Thank you, Alice” Bella chuckled at the pixie-like girl and glanced at Rosalie. Rosalie just winked in response earning a blush from Bella.

Rosalie grabbed the basket and pulled out the food. She had bought a garden burger from the diner along with a berry cobbler and a coke. Bella smile grew at the selection which made Rosalie’s grin grow in response.

”How did you know?” Bella asked and Rosalie smirked.

”A little birdie looked into the future and told me what you’d react best to” Bella laughed and grabbed Rosalie’s hand from across the table. Rosalie faltered at the contact, but regained her composure before Bella could notice.

”It’s perfect” It was funny how two words could make someone so happy. It might’ve been the fact that her mate approved of their first date, but it also might’ve been the high from Bella’s touch.

The rest of the night was spent talking and laughing. Rosalie didn’t mind when Bella asked about her past, she just steered clear of anything about those bastards that took her innocence. That wasn’t first date material. Rosalie was mainly focused on Bella, but she also liked talking about herself. Not in a vain way, she just enjoyed Bella’s reactions.

”What was your most cringe-worthy moment?” Rosalie asked Bella after a few seconds of comfortable silence.

”The fact that when I’m around you, I don’t know how to speak. You never fail to take my breath away when you’re near me.” Bella said seriously. Rosalie was at a loss for words. What Bella had said was so raw, so filled with emotion, that she didn’t know how to response.

”Well I’m glad you’re the same way as me when I’m around you. You’re the most beautiful, most breathtaking woman I’ve met in my entire life.” Rosalie said, and for a moment she couldn’t believe she’d said that. Then, she realized that every word she’d said was true.

”You really mean that?” Bella was giddy that the other woman felt the same.

”I really do” Rosalie smiled and grabbed Bella’s hand. Bella smiled back and brought Rosalie’s hand to her mouth. It was only a small peck, but it sent electricity through every inch of Rosalie’s body. Rosalie looked at the sky and noticed that it was already getting too dark to stay there much longer.

”I’d better get you home before your father comes looking for you.” Bella frowned, but eventually nodded and hopped on Rosalie’s back so she could take her back home.

Later, at the house...

”I had a great time tonight.” Bella smiled as they both stood on the front porch of Bella’s house.

”Likewise, one might even say it was the best date they’ve ever been on.” Rosalie thought back to all her human and vampire years to confirm that it was the best. It was, indeed.

They both stared in each other’s eyes for the longest time. It wasn’t awkward, it was intimate. Bella slowly leaned in, giving time for Rosalie to back out, then gently pressed her warm lips to Rosalie’s cold ones. Electricity crackled through every inch of Bella’s body as their mouths moved in sync. Bella slowly pulled back, as she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop if she went any longer.

”Goodnight, Rosalie.” Bella ran her thumb across Rosalie’s cheekbone, then across her jaw and bottom lip before placing a chaste kiss onto her lips.

”Goodnight, my beautiful Bella.” Rosalie watched her mate retreat into the comfort of her home before climbing in the car and sitting in the driver’s seat.

For the first time in a very long time, Rosalie felt hope.

#twilight #anon #twilight oneshot #oneshot #rosalie x bella #bella x rosalie #rosella #rosebella #rosalie hale #bella swan #my fic

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cozy-possum · 5 years

Text

Renesmee isn’t the first hybrid Carlisle has known about

AU where Carlisle went back to Volterra w/ Edward and met Esme.

Bella’s lost almost all of her newborn strength when Carlisle asks her to shield him for his day off. She thinks nothing of it, as he assures her he just wants to keep her powers working properly. She’s excited, carefully shielding him from Edward’s gift; he keeps his eyes narrowed at his father. Carlisle asks her to shield Esme as well for more practice. Bella eats up the praise and encouragement they give her even as Edward becomes more frustrated as the day goes on. The sun’s setting when they call both of them to Carlisle study.

“Will you drop the shield now?” Edward hisses. Carlisle shakes his head. “Just till after this conversation.” Edward notes the rest of his family sitting around. “Did something happen?” “Not recently.” Esme shakes her head calming Edwards worry. “Edward remember how you told Bella about our visit with the Volturi. When I’d first created you, and how we met your mother there.” Edward nods tilting his head as Bella’s shield is still up.

“Did you tell her we were planning on leaving after two months?” Edward nods. “And we did leave.” Edward looks worried, sitting straighter, his body coiled. “Bella, do you remember the conversation we had when you were pregnant. When Edward and Jacob were talking?” Bella nods. “Have you told Edward about that?” Bella shakes her head. “Well, best to start there then. You can drop the shield for now.” Edwards too eager, he’s watching Carlisle’s thoughts play out like a movie, intrigued by the conversation he had never known. He doesn’t pay attention to Carlisle’s voice instead focusing on the vision in his own mind.

Bella’s resting on the exam table he can faintly hear himself apologizing and saying he needs air. Carlisle pats Bella’s arm, pulling a spare chair closer to her. “Now that he’s gone, I can properly talk to you. Bella.” His voice takes on a quiet tone; Edward recognizes it from the times he’s heard him telling family members the patient didn’t make it. “This creature, and I call it a creature because it is not developing like a child should, a child, while similarly parasitic would never be able to take enough to kill the host. That is what this one is doing. It will only grow stronger, until eventually it can survive on its own much faster than a human child.” Bella smiles fondly and Carlisle shakes his head. “In order for it to have the time it needs to grow, from what little calculations I’ve been able to make, Bella, you’d need to be at least twice as strong as you are now, and that’s with just the child surviving. You have no chance right now.” “I thought it was a creature.” She snips at him and Carlisle sighs. “Bella trust me. Please, just think, you have time still. It hasn’t broken any parts of you, all it does is make you weaker, there’s still a chance for you to live, yes it will be without the child but you’ll be with Edward. Don’t you want that?” “I can’t hurt him. Don’t make me Carlisle.” Carlisle recoils Bella misses it but Edward can see, he stumbles back; hand clenched around his own wrist stopping himself from reaching out.

“Of course. It’s your choice. But Bella.” Carlisle helps her up as Rosalie comes to bring her back to the couch. “You will die from it. No human can survive.” Bella nods turning to Carlisle. “I wont be human by the end of it.” She smiles knowingly and Carlisle steps forward surprised when Esme appears. “If you wait too long the venom can’t fix it.” Bella frowns. ‘But Carlisle-“ “He’s hopeful, but he’s a doctor, he’s hasn’t seen it done before, not to full term. I don’t think any of us want to lose you Bella, but it’s your decision to make.” Edward turns to Carlisle and Esme. Shaking the thoughts from his head. “What did you mean, not to full term?” Carlisle stiffens and before Edward can dig into his head he can feel the shield blocking him. He snaps his teeth in anger and Carlisle laughs.

“To avoid the more disturbing moments; the Volturi had done research into the idea of Hybrids, I think mostly due to the lack of medical advancements they labeled the idea of hybrids a failure and it was ultimately better to have whatever human caught your eye as a meal after the, process to create a hybrid was finished. As they put it. Now they preferred this information not get around at all, simply because it could lead to exposure if done improperly.” Edward nods waiting for Carlisle to continue. He pauses and Edward watches Jasper shift uncomfortably before settling back in his chair. Edward, isn’t quick enough to catch whatever though chases out of his head. “Jasper?” “Death has a certain tang to it, not really bitter but..” he trails off shrugging. “You all know how Esme was turned right?” “Yeah they’d starved you and placed her as a secretary so you’d feed on human blood while I was training.” Edward nods, Carlisle nods back, and Edward can feel the faint thoughts from his head filtering in. Edwards thankful he does need to breath as Bella drops the shield.

Esme’s standing in front of Carlisle, carefully brushing dirt from his face. “I got a deer. Still be best if you don’t” He gestures to her and she nods carefully stepping back for a moment before returning to stand next him continuing to brush and wipe the dirt from his face. “There, much better Doctor.” She smiles warmly and Carlisle nods refusing to breath again. “Thank you.” He leans closer his eyes blacking out. Demetri appears in the same instant. “Carlisle. Oh.” Demetri smirks leaning against the door. “Go on. I like watching.” He winks and Carlisle hisses leaning over and kissing Esme in place of biting her. Demetri laughs under his breath as Carlisle follows him, trying his best to ignore the increase in her heartbeat or the blush on her face. Demetri expects him to avoid her more, instead the opposite happens. He requests time outside, time around humans, desperately trying to find her family, anyone he can help to make her smile. “You won’t find anything that’ll make her feel better. She wouldn’t like grave robbing, even if its such a small coffin.” Carlisle turns when Caius appears. “She lost a child you know.” Caius smirks nodding to where Esme sits writing files. “She was going to jump, we offered her a better option, teaching children who never grew.” Caius watches. “Immortal children are illegal.” Carlisle repeats automatically. Caius nods. “Of course, and as a Volturi member you would never break the rules.” Carlisle nods, Caius smirks handing him a journal. “Felix and Demetri have been helping me with some medical research, about human females. You might find it interesting.” Carlisle nods taking the book in his hand and flicking through the writing momentarily before Caius calls his attention back.

“We believe that humans and vampires can for lack of better term, breed. It seems most humans females are able to carry half vampire children. Of course we have yet to see any of this to a result, the women die often within the first few weeks. They must not have proper medical care.” Caius’s face twists into a distraught look.

“If only we knew a doctor who would be able to observe a child resulting in such a coupling.” Carlisle swallows, swearing he can feel bile rising in his throat as he nods. Caius’ face stretches into a triumphant smirk.

“Wonderful Carlisle, I knew you would want to help.” He claps him on the back.

“Now, if only we had a human we could.. Oh, wait. Ms. Esme, would you come here a moment.”

#esme cullen #carlisle cullen #edward cullen #bella swan #volturi #caius volturi #demetri volturi #felix volturi #twilight #twilight saga #twilight saga fanfiction #twilight fanfiction #twiwrites #we all know the volturi would pull this shit

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notveryglittery · 6 years

Text

a walk in the park (1)

summary: “It was almost too good to be true. I'd never find another pair like that, not if I looked for a hundred years.” ships: romantic royality, platonic moxiety. platonic logince, eventual romantic analogical. platonic lamp. / words: 2,800 notes: here it is !! i’ve been working on this since may with help from @euelioi!! literally, this au would not exist without jack. i hope y’all like it!! keep an eye out for updates on sundays, if all goes according to plan <3

@fandersfic-royality @fandersfic-moxiety // read on ao3

ch. 1 | ch. 2

Early morning light filtered into the lobby. Sunrise was especially lovely on Thursdays. It was Pastry Day, and Sanders Day, and Jeopardy Night, and Sleepover Night. Thursdays, for the last year, had been consistently the Best Days Ever. Patton sighed dreamily, staring out the windows to the empty parking lot. He leaned against the desk with his chin resting on his palm. He was looking forward to lunch, since he would get to go to his favorite bakery with Virgil. He was looking forward to that evening, because the lovely, handsome, charming nice Sanders man would be by to pick up his dogs. He was looking forward to that night, for the weekly sleepover and Jeopardy marathon with his parents.

Patton snapped out of his daydreaming quite suddenly at the sound of a bell ringing. He jolted up and snatched a clipboard off the desk, clutching it to his chest. Not a moment later, the door behind him swung open. Virgil was yawning, mouth wide open and eyes squeezed shut. His hair looked like it’d only been half brushed and his shirt was inside out. Patton giggled and Virgil groaned, already knowing what he was going to say. It was routine, after all.

“Good morning, kiddo!”

“What’s so good about it?” Virgil asked, right on cue.

“I get to see your smiling face!” Patton replied excitedly, just like usual.

“I know you want to scold me for staying up until 3am on Tumblr.”

“Who, me? Scold you? Never!”

For a moment, the two were silent. Then they both snickered and met for a hug. Virgil held on a little longer than normal and Patton made a note to ask him later on if he was feeling okay. They pulled apart and Virgil seemed to have drawn some energy from Patton in their brief embrace.

“Alright,” he said, clapping his hands. “Let’s get started, then.”

In the hour they had before opening, a number of things needed to be finished. For the most part, Virgil took care of the behind the scenes tasks. He got together all of the personal items for the boarding dogs that would be picked up sometime during the day, as well as setting up the food and water bowls for today’s daycare dogs. Patton took to cleaning, making sure that each room sparkled as best as possible; he tried to fix up the laundry and groom rooms so they were prepared for when they’d be used later on. Catching up on paperwork went to Patton, too, which is what he liked doing the most. Thankfully, he had extra time to spare to do so. Knowing that he and Virgil would both be working doubles today was daunting but if Patton just focused on all the stuff he had to look forward to, it made it bearable! By the time they finished, the clock was chiming 7am. Virgil sighed, loudly and over the top for Patton’s amusement.

“I guess we ought to open the doors.” Despite his pretend exasperation, there was a bounce to his step as he plugged in the Open sign and propped the doors open with stoppers. A breeze came through, curling around the wind chimes in the corners of the room. Virgil rapped his knuckles on the desk as he walked by it. Patton was counting the money in the till.

“I’m going to fix my shirt,” Virgil told him. Patton giggled and nodded, waving him off.

For a little while, it remained quiet. The sound of cars driving by on the street beyond the parking lot added to the soft ambience of the empty lobby. Throughout the rest of the building, Patton could hear muffled barking as Virgil went through and checked on all the dogs they were currently taking care of. It was what Virgil preferred to do; the less interaction with people, the better. Patton’s dad would be by any minute now to get started on paperwork and then his mom would be in later, no doubt bringing snacks for them all. Slowly, more employees would trickle in, until the business was running like a well oiled machine.

It was just another reason Patton loved Thursdays so much. For whatever reason, these mornings tended to be more calm than most. Still, customers had busy lives to lead, and no one to pet sit, and so that’s when they turned to Foster Dawg. The establishment had been owned by Patton's family for roughly a decade (in fact, they’d be celebrating ten years in the fall). The Foster came from their last name and the Dawg from a television show Patton’s father had watched growing up. Patton thought it hilarious and not a day went by that he didn’t laugh over the name. He loved explaining it to customers that asked why it wasn’t spelled “dog.”

Sure enough, David Foster arrived the same moment that their first customer did. He patted his son on the head as he made his way to the office, where he’d take care of any accounting that hadn’t been finished the night before.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dungey!” Patton chirped, waving from his spot behind the counter.

“Good morning, sweetheart,” the woman responded kindly, with Madison trotting along patiently at her side. She may very well have been the biggest dog they took care of; Virgil, standing at a full 6’2” when he wasn’t slouching, weighed about the same as she did (170lb, no matter how much Patton fed him). He was sure that if Virgil wanted, he could ride the bull mastiff into battle like a war pony. The image had him giggling helplessly and when he shared it with Mrs. Dungey, she too found it very amusing. After some back and forth chatter, Patton updated Madison’s file for today’s stay, and handed Mrs. Dungey her copy of the form.

“We’ll take good care of her,” Patton promised, wrapping the leash a few times around his hand. He allowed Madison plenty of give, though; it was something he tended to do with all the dogs, even if they tugged Patton along faster than he could keep up. Virgil kept telling him he had to be better about having them heel, but Patton couldn’t help it. He got just as excited as they did.

“I know you will,” Mrs. Dungey said sweetly, patting him gently on the cheek. She headed out to go have brunch with her friends before she’d go play bingo with her mother at the senior home.

Patton gently led Madison out of the lobby, down the hallway, and into the back of the building. Passing the kitchen and laundry room on the way to Big Pawz, he made a mental note to double check that the meals for their boarding dogs were all sorted. Nudging the door open, Patton peeked into the room.

“Virgil?” He called, when his best friend was nowhere to be found.

A couple seconds later, the door leading outside slid open, and Virgil squeezed through. Bella Martens was at his heels, trying to follow, but he patted her on the head, and shut the door carefully before she could get in.

“Yeah, Pat?” Virgil responded, wiping sweat from his brow. His face lit up when he saw who Patton had with him. Crossing the room and kneeling in front of her, he cooed, “Hey, Maddie. How’s my big girl doing?” He scratched her ears and along her neck before standing up again.

At the fond expression on Patton’s face, Virgil’s cheeks flushed hot.

“Shut up,” he mumbled, undoing her leash. Patton took it and made to zip his lips shut but the sound of his father calling him from the front distracted him before he could. Virgil continued leading Madison away, knowing exactly what time it was, and exactly who Mr. Foster was getting Patton’s attention for.

Shutting the door behind him and hurrying back to the lobby, Patton dropped Madison’s leash off in the closet, and ducked through the groom room, as if that would be faster. At the front door stood Declan Sanders, looking incredibly frustrated. He had four dogs with him: a husky, pompoodle mix, corgi, and British golden retriever. Patton almost squealed at the sight of them, all so well groomed and well behaved. Regardless of their manners, Declan was still irritated, and that simply wouldn’t do.

“Good morning!”

“Is it?” Declan snapped, approaching the desk. Despite his mood, he didn’t drag the dogs along with him, or pull harshly on their leashes. “My stupid brother can’t even drop his own nuisances off. I hope he’s perfectly on time for his audition. Hope he breaks a leg.”

Patton’s hand went to tuck his hair behind his ear, even though there weren't any loose locks. It was more of a nervous habit. “How… how is Roman?” he asked hesitantly, busying himself with the paperwork Declan would need to give to his sibling later.

“Oh, right,” Declan drawled, eyebrows raising and disappearing behind his bangs. “I forgot about your little… crush, on him.”

That… seemed unlikely. Patton, according to Virgil, was pretty transparent about his feelings for Roman. Deciding he’d worry about it later, Patton slid the clipboard across the desk to Declan, who snatched the offered pen out of his hand, and signed at the bottom of it.

“He’s terrible, by the way,” Declan finally answered. “Woke up late, couldn’t find his favorite pair of sunglasses.” He rolled his eyes. “Picked the lock on my door and went searching through my dresser as if I’d stolen them.”

Patton couldn’t help giggling. He hadn’t had very many interactions with Roman but that sounded like something he’d do. Declan’s glare sharpened at the laughter. Patton went quiet.

“Sorry,” he offered, smiling sheepishly.

“Whatever.” Declan took the pink colored page while Patton filed the yellow and white ones. He was tapping his foot impatiently, waiting for Patton to come around the desk, and take the dogs off of his hands. Patton did so with grace, handling four leashes as if it were the easiest thing in the world. Declan didn’t say anything else before turning and leaving.

“Bye! Have a nice day!” Patton called after him.

Declan gave him a rather rude gesture in return.

Patton only let it bother him for a second before shrugging it off. Sure, he wished he could help everybody, all the time, but some people didn’t want to be helped, and Patton had to respect that… For now, anyway. Patton gave each of Roman’s dogs equal love and attention as he took them to their rooms.

The husky and the British golden (Walt and Shadow) were left to Terrence in Medium Pawz. He passed the pompoodle and the corgi (Cooper and Einstein) to Talyn in Small Pawz. The two had arrived during Patton’s short interaction with Declan. They were both incredible employees, who really loved their jobs here; then again, Patton thought, any career working with dogs was pretty good. The morning continued much the same: customers arrived, signed their paperwork, left their dogs. Patton would take them to the appropriate room (sometimes, it wasn’t the physical size of the dog, but the size of their attitude) before returning to the lobby to do it all over again.

He was in the middle of a very complex coloring page when someone behind him cleared their throat. “Working hard or hardly working?”

Patton jumped and shoved his book away.

“Working hard!” He yelped, only to turn around and find Virgil snickering behind his hand. Patton pouted at him.

“Virgil,” he whined. “You know I startle easily!”

Virgil shrugged, only partly sorry. “I know. It’s lunch time. Ready to go?”

Patton lit up like a child on Christmas morning.

“Pastries!” he shouted and even though Virgil winced at the volume, he couldn’t help but to feel just as excited.

They clocked for lunch and let Patton’s father know they’d be back in an hour, before heading out the front door and into the parking lot. The daycare was located conveniently within a shopping center. There was a speciality groomer just two storefronts down, and Foster Dawg often partnered with them to offer deals for their customers. On other days, Patton and Virgil would stop in at Subway or Chipotle. On Thursdays, though, they made the short trek across the street to the Porto’s Bakery & Cafe.

The California-based bakery had a line out the door, but this wasn’t anything new to the pair. While they waited, they talked about all the dogs that had come in today, and new video game releases, and what show they wanted to start watching next. By the time they were inside the building and cooling off in the air conditioning, Patton felt it safe enough to ask if Virgil was feeling okay.

“How come you up were so late last night, kiddo?”

Virgil visibly stiffened, eyes going slightly wide in alarm. He hoped to play it off as nothing but Patton had always been very observant. He tried, anyway. “Tumblr, remember?”

“Virgil.” The Dad Voice was in full effect.

Virgil sighed. “Ugh, fine. I had a nightmare, okay? I went to bed at an actual normal time and had a nightmare and couldn’t fall back asleep after it.”

Patton frowned. He linked his pinky finger with Virgil’s. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Virgil swung their connected fingers back and forth, humming. “Not… really.” His gaze had gone distant, as if remembering, and when he shuddered, Patton fully took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Virgil gave him a shaky smile. “I’m fine, Pat. Thanks for asking, though.”

Patton nodded and squeezed his hand. Virgil returned it. “Just let me know if you want to, okay? You know I’m always here, even if all you need is for me to listen.”

“Next!” The employee at the counter called, interrupting their moment. Virgil pulled Patton up to the register and looked to him, knowing he had the list of what their coworkers had requested. It was a lot of turnovers and strudels, but a few savory treats made the cut as well. They obviously ordered a dozen of the infamous Potato Balls, as well as enough drinks to warrant two carriers. They grabbed a table at the outdoor seating area to spend the last half hour of their lunch before heading back. Patton sipped at his Jamaica Strawberry iced tea.

“How was dealing with Declan earlier?” Virgil asked, picking at his sandwich.

“How’d you even know it was him?" Patton returned instead of answering, tilting his head curiously. “You were on the complete opposite side of the building.”

“Oh, you know,” Virgil said vaguely, waving his hand.

Patton waited for him to elaborate. When Virgil went back to his lunch, Patton just huffed an amused sigh, and resumed silently eating his tuna melt. Fifteen minutes later, they were waiting at a stoplight. They carried a drink tray each and both had a to go bag looped around their wrists. Patton was bobbing his head to the music playing from a car with its windows down.

“Excited to see lover boy today?” Virgil asked abruptly, shooting Patton a knowing smirk.

Patton startled so suddenly, he nearly dropped his goods.

“Virgil!” He squeaked, cheeks coloring. The crosswalk sign switched over and they stepped carefully into the street; Virgil looked right and left despite them officially having the right of way. Patton remained resolutely quiet though he was starting to get that dreamy, far off look in his eyes. Virgil transferred the carrier to one hand and caught Patton by the elbow before he could trip on the curb.

“Pay attention!” He laughed, too amused to fret very much. “I really should know better than to mention him unless you’re sitting down.”

Patton groaned, wishing he could hide his face in his hands. “Do you have to tease me so much?!”

“Yes,” Virgil answered immediately. “It comes with being best friends.” He flicked his wrist as if to prove his point; the sleeve of his hoodie slid down to reveal the friendship bracelet Patton had made for him. At this point, the drink carrier and bag of food were both in one hand, and Virgil decided it was for the best. It’d make watching over Patton easier, given his clumsiness.

Patton scowled at the outerwear. “Aren’t you hot, by the way?” He asked, intentionally choosing the more shaded walkway back to the daycare. “It’s, like, 80° out.” He lifted the tray closer to his lips and sucked up the last of his iced tea.

“Eh, you know me,” Virgil shrugged. He was always perpetually cold but Patton never did fail to ask him how he managed to wear jackets and sweaters in the sun. They arrived back at work with five minutes to spare. Handing the food and drinks out to their coworkers, they clocked back in right on time. Before Virgil returned, however, he threw an arm around Patton’s shoulders, hugging him.

“By the way, don’t think I didn’t notice you avoiding my question.”

Patton swatted him away, spluttering. Virgil shot him a wink as he disappeared into the back.

#sanders sides fan fiction #romantic royality #platonic moxiety #royality #moxiety #sympathetic deceit #awitp fic #dani writes

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bigskydreaming · 5 years

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LOL, any time I try and make plans or estimates, the universe is like hahahaha, surprise, fuck-o! so, you think I’d stop doing that but I never learn, OH WELL.

Anyway, obvsly didn’t update LC like I thought I was going to last week, but my previous intentions laid out in that post still hold, just....slower. Got yet another CT scan to get done today, so off to that in a few, but let’s call this Lightning Crashes, Chapter 6A for now, with the actual fic actually updated once all three parts of Chapter 6 are ready.

CHAPTER 6A

Two more anticlimactic weeks into the most exciting thing to ever happen to her, Kira was forced to come to one of two conclusions:

1) She was completely paranoid, delusional and a bit of a narcissist, convinced everyone and their mother was out to get her or at least drive her nuts

2) She really was the focus of some secret, shadowy government agency that employed adorable five foot tall freshmen with scraggly peach fuzz in place of the facial hair they were in a clear hurry to grow because who knows, masculinity merit badges or whatever. Boys are weird.

Anyway. It was definitely one of those two things. Problem was, she had no idea which.

She didn’t feel like she was in a super big hurry to get confirmation one way or the other though, no matter how crazy it was making her. So she made an abrupt heel turn and noped her way in the opposite direction when she saw Scott Vasquez waiting anxiously outside her English classroom.

Lurking, she meant. That was definite lurking behavior, no matter if said lurker was shuffling his feet, biting his lip and looking all sorts of nervous and cute while running a hand through his hair. The movement made the bicep beneath his long-sleeved shirt go all taut and…muscle-y. And…oh my god what was she doing, what was wrong with her, do not crush on your stalker Kira, he is not cute, what is your brain damage even. Maybe she had Stockholm Syndrome. Did that still count if he was just stalking her and hadn’t actually kidnapped her yet?

Yet? YET? Oh good god, where was an intervention when she needed one? She needed better friends, clearly, there would be no kidnapping, PERIOD, what the hell self, that is not relationship goals!

UGH WHY WAS SHE THINKING ABOUT A RELATIONSHIP IN THE CONTEXT OF WEIRDO CUTE BOY WHO WAS STALKING HER???

“Kira, wait up!” She heard Scott call out behind her and her skin did that weird tingling thing that made her blood start to buzz like liquid lightning crackling through her veins. Rude, even his voice was hot, it was all deep but soft and how dare evil government agencies employ not just cute boys but cute boys with hot, throaty voices, that was just genius and downright…insidious.

“Sorry, I’m late to class!” Kira yelled over her shoulder and quickened her steps. She could hear him jogging to keep up, not even breathing hard, because of course he was athletic too.

“Umm, I know, we’re in the same English class. It’s back that way?”

“No habla ingles!”

…she clearly was not qualified for like, any of this.

Scott pulled ahead of her and turned around so he was walking backwards. He held his hands out in front of him in an obvious effort to come off as safe and non-threatening, making no move to come any closer even when she skidded to a stop. He looked…concerned. And maybe even a little amused?

“What?” She snapped when seconds continued to tick by without another word from him. He blinked and then shook his head like coming out of a daze.

“Sorry, I just, that was kinda funny because we’re also in the same Spanish class, y’know?”

Her face burned. Right. That.

“Well, its not like I could pretend to speak anything else. Just because I’m Korean and Japanese doesn’t mean I actually speak either of those things, okay?”

His brow furrowed. “I didn’t assume you did?”

She deflated. Everyone always said the best defense was a good offense but nobody ever mentioned that staying on the offensive was really hard when the other person refused to get offended.

“Well. Good.”

He nodded then and took a deep breath, visibly steeling himself. Which was all kinds of weird, because what did HE have to be nervous about? He was the one stalking HER!

“Okay, so. Look. I’m really sorry for like, all of this. We went about this all wrong and I don’t blame you for being freaked out and I’d like to start over and just…can we go somewhere and talk? And I can try and explain? Anywhere you want, just not…here here.”

That was not remotely something she was prepared for. Not that she was prepared for any of this. Whatever the hell this was. She took a step back, trying to gauge his sincerity even as she became aware for the first time that they were still in the middle of the hall and it was in between classes. While other students were giving them a wide berth, there was no shortage of curious glances being thrown their way. Her skin tingled again. She was not at all used to being the center of attention and this did not feel anywhere near as rewarding as it seemed in her occasional (well, rare, really rare) daydreams about being super popular.

After a few moments of consideration, she huffed an aggravated breath that blew stray hair out of her face and stomped over to an out of the way alcove where a little-used exit led to a small outdoor study area. She did not exude grace. Scott gave her a few seconds head start, and then when she stopped in the alcove and made no attempt to go outside, he hesitantly joined her in the out of the way doorway. Still in clear view of everyone in the hall but no longer right in the midst of everything.

He made an effort to still leave a few feet of separation between them, out of arms’ reach. Which she did not appreciate exactly, because she did not appreciate any of this and wanted that on record. But she did note it. Unfortunately, Kira also noted that the less threatening he became, the more aware of his obnoxious cuteness she became. And she was not a fan.

Its not like she’d ever spent a ton of time contemplating what her priorities would be should she ever star in some government conspiracy young adult dystopian adventure. But she’d always kinda assumed that at the very least she’d be able to go five seconds without concentrating on the way the mysterious secrecy boy in said adventure had soft brown eyes that managed to sparkle even though that was not an adjective normally associated with that particular eye color. Seriously, how was he doing that. Stop it.

Oh thank god, her ire was back.

“Look, I may not know what’s going on here, but let’s make one thing clear,” Kira hissed in a low voice. She was the one to close the distance between them, which…why, as she stepped forward and jabbed a finger at his chest. He didn’t flinch. She did though, kinda, because his pecs were like rock solid, what the hell, this was so unfair. “I don’t care who you are, but I, mister, am no Bella Swan.”

Scott blinked. His mouth fell open a little as he tilted his head, his eyes going distant and a little glazed as she could almost see his thoughts racing behind them, trying to figure something out. Then they focused again and he looked down at her with a frown.

“I don’t know who that is,” he admitted. “Is she in one of our classes?”

She stared. “What? No. Twilight?”

His frown deepened. He looked around the hall for a second, landing on a patch of sunlight on the floor beneath a window. Then he looked back at her, his eyes crinkling with something that vaguely registered as concern.

“Kira, it’s ten in the morning.”

What? “Yeah, I know. How do you not know what Twilight is? By Stephanie Meyer? Bella Swan, Edward Cullen, you seriously have no idea what I’m talking about?”

Scott’s face cleared, eyes widening and cheeks darkening slightly. The top of his ears reddened. “Oh right, sorry,” he said, obviously embarrassed. Ew, now she felt bad and also he was back to being cute. Why was she even bothering at this point. “The book. Got it. Sorry, I haven’t read it. Is it good?”

Her brain had broken like, at least ten minutes ago, so she decided to let her mouth just do whatever. It’s not like an actual filter had contributed anything useful to this conversation.

“I mean, its not bad, but I wouldn’t call it good exactly. I was talking more about the movie anyway, but…oh my god this is not the point. I’m just…look, so there’s a girl in it and she gets involved in all this weird stuff because of the hot vampire boy in her class and it felt like there were parallels to this whatever that all this is. So I’m just saying, I am no Bella Swan because I think she gets a lot of criticism that’s not totally fair but at the same time she definitely makes choices that I think are dumb and that’s all. I was just clarifying that do not expect that I am someone who will make dumb choices just because. Ugh you know what, just forget it.”

She wanted to melt into a puddle five seconds after her brain did catch up and realized she’d basically told him she’d categorized him as her hot YA love interest. But in the one bit of good fortune bestowed on her and her dignity today, that was not the part he’d fixated on. If anything, he looked weirdly insulted.

“Wait, do you think I’m a vampire?”

She stared at him helplessly.

“You know what, I don’t even care if you’re gonna axe murder me or abduct me to take part in some weird government experiments. Fine, let’s have your freaking conversation. Come on.”

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ginwhitlock · 4 years

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Southbound ch 1/ ch 2 / CH 3 : Null Wind

I’d never felt so warm.

The golden light streaming through the open windows heated up the room in a dry embrace. I could see the filtering haze over every piece of honey-lacquered furniture piece in the living room. Bookcases lined up and down the walls on either side of the front door, highlighting a sitting area around a hand-tooled turkish rug. The dining room to my immediate right looked unused but tidy. For some reason, the live oak table looked like it could comfortably seat four. Who else did Peter entertain?

A drawn-out wind carried through the windows. I’ve had to learn that Texas breeze is just that-- a breeze and nothing more. Had I not already had to endure the minimum eighty-five degree heat shield for the early majority of my life and not to mention the last two months, my jeans would feel like I was carrying steel wool up a mountain.

“Here Bell-- if I can call you Bell,” Peter started, arm still resting on the bronze door handle leading to the outside behind me, “go ahead and kick up your feet on the sofa and I’ll getcha somethin’ to simmer down this blasted heat.”

I could hear his wooden heels click on the tile as he retreated into what I could only assume to be the kitchen, being that the floor was formatted like a doll house. Walls dividing the arid space without exception.

Esme would have been horrified.

The thought of her heart-shaped face made my heart flip, the stoney exterior cracking and shifting in my chest. The brick wall I’ve put up started to claw its way out of my throat.

I slunk over to the dusty-looking brown chair in the corner, its position allowing me to see the front door and the kitchen opening to my right with ease. All my exits are straight-legged in front of me. If I bolted before he came back in, I could make it to the door handle in just enough time. But god, what would I do then? If the truck is on it’s last leg-- if on any legs at all-- I’m sure it's hardly worth a likely buckshot in the ass.

As my back pockets touched the softened hide my brain went into full overdrive.

What do you think WERE doing? We should be on the road, basting Lynard Skynard in some southwestern dry county, not act like you’re meeting a boy’s parents for THE SECOND TIME EVER! Do you not have any common sense? What would happen if Edwar--

“I hope you like sun tea.”

A rough-knuckled hand held out a glass filled to the brim with squared off iced cubes and murky brown liquid. The cup glittered with a department store shine.

They must’ve been his special ones. Guess no one gets guests out here.

My hand slowly reached out and took it, a tentative sip following, my fingers sliding on the chilled surface. It tasted like roses and honeysuckle, a contrast to the red dirt lining my soles and the open air around everything here.

It was only then that I realised he had taken off his hat.

His eyes were beautiful. Mahogany stained, hand-sanded, fired art. The swirling of reflective speckling nearest his pupils brought out the darkened freckles on his cheeks. His sandy blonde brows shaded his lashes in a trimmed fence line. Peter looked the part of a country, fair haired, Marlon Brando, and I realized in that moment my stare was reflecting in his eyes in a glass-like mirror. My brain swam to the surface, focusing on the change in his facade.

His mouth set in that same childish grin, matching his soft, playful features. “Again with the staring. Do you do much else darlin’?”

A beet red blush spread across my cheeks like margarine. I could feel the long forgotten heat spread down my neck and onto my chest.

As I was about to speak, something changed in his whiskey-soaked sightline. His almost boyish features hardened into a grimace. His hand fisted my own, setting the tea on the coffee table at the crease of his calves.

Finding my tongue growing heavy in my mouth I spoke, “Pe-ter is everything okay?” My eyes raced to his hand as it rose to his collar.

In an instant his face physically uncramped, the smile coming back to features, wolfier now more than ever. But his eyes gathered into slits in a humourless way.

“You just have such a pretty blush, Bell, you flush like a schoolgirl, ya know that?”

His voice came out hushed. Slow as molasses on a frigid winter afternoon. Like each word was a connecting jigsaw puzzle and he was looking for the next piece. In response, saliva ran down my throat like I had had a cold, the heat rising through the air and into my head. The knot in my stomach felt like it was tightening, closer and closer to snapping if he leaned any farther into my face.

A rogue wind blew through a set of copper windchimes on the front porch.

Peter’s stare disconnected as he rushed to pop open the button of his collar in a quick flick of his fingers. A true smile replaced the earlier one and spread over his upper lips and into his eyes. His mouth reminded me of a slow, murky river. The kind no one should go into without a life jacket. But the kids still try it, and all you hear is shouting from a town over, nothing coming from their mother’s lips but sobbing for the next forty-odd years.

“Oh lord-- sorry lil Bell, didn’t mean to get in yer space like that, the south winds here are just…” His voice hardened, “just wash somethin’ over the house… over me today.”

His feet, still clad with his cowboy boots, shifted around the stump of a table and to the couch he had mentioned before. It’s long back almost obscured the front door with his added height.

Without the coffee table, with our feet outstretched, we could’ve touched.

I calmed down my breathing enough to speak coherently, “No… I get it. Definitely… get it.” A swallow followed to bring the collection of spit back down.

Jesus Bella could you have gotten that out any less freaked out? Something is thoroughly wrong with this man PLUS whatever the hell ‘winds’ he’s talking about, you could very well be putting yourself in more danger than you ever had in Forks. He could be plotting to dump your body out in the desert for god sake.

Or he just thinks you’re pretty. Maybe this is just how cowboys act, huh? This could be what you’ve been wishing for for months, Bella. Some cowboy to take you away. Wait... how does that song go? A bastardized voice came from the back of my skull. The same sickly-sweet tone that turned off my blaring alarms around…

“So what brings you to San Ang?”, Peter rolled out, his feet landing on the table, his hands stretched out behind his fluffy blonde halo. A small sliver of pale skin could be seen right above his belt. I looked to the floor before answering, only adding to the stupid blush which hadn’t left.

“Just traveling. Relationship went bad. Could even say it nuked my life.”

The oddly reassuring nod from before came back in full force, a stark contrast from the baited silence he blew across my face what seemed like just moments before. If he tries something, what does it matter if I tell him the rest of the story? I sighed, my body curling forward to grab the glass again. “He just sort of left me. He took my heart with him, you know. For a year I wandered around my hometown, numb to my core, just looking for anything he left behind. I even had a friend try to pull me out of it. I think I ended up pushing him away before I left.

“So now I’m here. Came into Texas maybe a month and a half ago. Just followed the road signs,” My eyes snapped up to his, “there aren’t any on this road.”

Peter’s brows quirked up in a laughably adorable way-- am I really calling the potential nutbag adorable?

Almost as if he felt my mood change, he laughed. A full belly, hands on his chest, forehead wrinkled like the Sunday morning newspaper, laugh.

The sound eased away my present fear and outrage just a hair.

“My lil Bell-- don’t you get what private property means? You’re smack dab in the middle of abouta’ hundred acres of nothin’, missy. The mud you found yerself on was just a walkin’ trail through the land.”, Peter belted out, body leaning forward, his hands lowering to his knees.

My thoughts raced, but only one sentence formed in my mouth, its edges familiar window glass, “It’s Bella.”

A snort started his response, “C’mon. A little girl like you don’t wanna be referred to lika singin’ cartoony princess? You gotta be shittin’ me darlin.” He blew out a harsh stream of wind through his teeth. I could almost visualize him sitting on a porch somewhere spitting out peanut shells, dust coating the tops of his jeans.

“Listen I don’t need your sympathy or your criticism of my ability to navigate. I’ve been doing just fine on my own, just let me see a phone and I’ll get outta your hair.” My body became heated with a different kind of feeling, the anger rushing through me at his insult. I stood up, my jeans ripping away from the leather seat.

His form didn’t move an inch. His eyes rolled into his head and went to stare right back at me.

“Bell,” I pinched my eyebrows together at the nickname but he continued, “I’m not insultin’ ya, I’m proud that you got this far south on yer own two feet. I have to say I didn’t expect much from a girl sleepin’ in her own truck in the middle of some one-way backroad, but you’re surprising’ me in a lot of ways.” His eyes swept to the kitchen for a quick second.

“Oh and Bell, The nickname works. Trust me on it. It’s that voice of yers. Sounds like Christmas carolin.”

My face constricted in a dumb-found expression, the observation rattling me to my core. I’d never thought of my voice as anything other than dull compared to the Cullens. Some lifeless monotone of a teenage girl. His face looked sincere, the braziness fading behind his eyes. He looked even sweet as he said the last few words. Like there was a memory he wasn't sharing in between them.

I managed to get out soft ‘thank you’ as my anger faded to a null ache. My hands climbed up my hips to my collarbones as I held myself in a self-cradle.

I could almost hear a piece of the cement around my heart cracking in the nonexistent wind. I had left my light jacket in the truck, and yet, I felt as if I was hiding behind another barrier, a straight jacket around my collapsing sanity. Their memory, their mob horns tic home and their sing-song voices and their obviously faked investment into my life trying to weasel its way out.

“Sweetheart you’re rocking.”

Looking down at my posture I could see the slight sway to my stance, a mechanism I had developed just nights after He left me in the forest, Charlie had said it was a self soothing technique. I just thought it was proof that I may be actually losing my mind. “Oh, Sorry.” My legs brought me back down to my seat in a slow collapse.

His smile widened, his pearly-white teeth showing themselves off for the first time. I expected a crinkle to appear around his eyes, but it never did. I wondered what it did look like when the lines overcame his face in the night, what kind of beauty showed through when he was alone.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about Bell, I get what you’re doin’.”

I nodded my head, almost not present in the conversation. My eyes glued to my lap.

“And about that phone… I called my brother earlier, he’s on a huntin’ trip not far from here. He should be home soon and I’ll have him fix up your truck. No worries darlin’, no worries.” His hand found hovered over the bridge of my knuckles making my eyes drift up into his. I found a genuine kindness in them, and something else I couldn’t identify. Again, there was something about the words as they curled through his mouth. Like he knew something I didn’t.

Peter’s hand slowly retracted to his belt, the shine of the metal highlighted by a beam of sun through the windows. It bounced back onto his skin, creating a shimmer.

My thoughts captured that and put it into the back of my mind for later. “When is he gonna be back?”

A determined gleam sauntered into the quirk of his lip.

“Tonight my lil Bell, he’ll be back tonight.”

For some reason my stomach twisted at his words, and not just at the warm butterflies the nickname started to ignite.

#southbound #my writing #writing #twilight fanfiction #bella swan #peter whitlock #peter twilight #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #bella x jasper #bella swan x jasper hale #maybe some.....#peter x bella #mine #twilight fanfic #fanfiction #jasper/bella #peter/bella

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allsassnoclass · 3 years

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15, 18 (specifically for the tie me down 'verse ending since i KNOW you were talking about that but if you don't want to disclose then that's cool i just think about it a lot), and 20 go crazy love you a lot xoxo bella

Thank you bella :)

okay these are going under a read more because they got ridiculously long. I really enjoy talking about my writing lol

also some spoilers ahead....

15. Which is harder: titles or summaries (or tags)? I think this really depends! On occasion, I’ll have a title while I’m writing a piece, but otherwise titles are pretty difficult for me because I really want them to have some sort of meaning. I don’t like just plucking song lyrics for them unless the song has some sort of significance to the fic, but sometimes I have to because I can’t think of anything else and that’s the accepted way to name fics. Something like All I Really Want Is You is okay because I referenced slsp in the fic. Something like Puzzle Pieces was taken from a running metaphor in the fic, which I feel better about because it’s something that is more specific to the fic itself. Summaries are also difficult because sometimes I don’t have a few lines that I feel properly introduce the fic and hook the reader without giving things away, but I feel like people are less likely to read if there isn’t an excerpt??? idk. tags are pretty easy though even though I’m always guessing a little and worried that someone will say I should have tagged it with something else or that it doesn’t fit a tag I added.

18. Do any of your stories have alternative versions? (plotlines that you abandoned, AUs of your own work, different characterisations?) Tell us about them. For the most part, I don’t have alternate versions unless it’s a prompt fic that I started out going one direction then deleted and flipped it around. HOWEVER the Tie Me Down trilogy DID have a possible different third installment (spoilers ahead)

If I had written the epilogue from Jack’s perspective, it would’ve been a little bit of a different ending. Something I mentioned in both of the first parts was Jack’s restlessness and Alex’s desire for something more settled, and one day I was listening to peace by Taylor swift and was like “wow this is Jack from the tie me down verse,” and that song could’ve very easily been the inspiration behind the third part. Alex’s epilogue was based on best years because he recognized that he hadn’t treated Jack the best but resolved to then make up for it by giving Jack the best years possible ahead with all of his love. peace as an epilogue song would’ve pushed the story away from a crystal-clear resolution. that would’ve focused a bit more on the struggle of making it work with two people who want/need fundamentally different things. It would’ve had much more to do with the compromise of Jack being able to give Alex infinite love and devotion, but not the peace that he craves. Inevitably, something would go wrong. “The rain is always gonna come if you’re standing with me.” The epilogue would’ve then been about Jack living with that knowledge and trusting that Alex would stay anyway and that their relationship would be enough, but there’s still a lot of uncertainty of an imperfect relationship in that song, and it inevitably would’ve ended up in the fic. that’s why the Alex epilogue was the one I went with: I needed a strong, conclusive, and positive ending for them, and Jack’s epilogue would not have given that

otherwise though I don’t think my fics shift too terribly much between when I think of them and when they get published. nothing is coming to mind, at least not for things that I have completed.

20. Tell us the meta about your writing that you really want to ramble to people about (symbolism you’ve included, character or relationship development that you love, hidden references, callbacks or clues for future scenes?) Okayyyyyy a lot of my symbolism is in the short angsty fics and when I talk about it I feel like I didn’t do it well lol but for my unrequited lashton (I was done but you undid me) (spoiler) the buckling of the seatbelt was something I thought about a lot and ending the fic with that action was important to me because it was Luke making the conscious decision to protect himself in this situation. there’s a lot of symbolism in the lie to me music vid in general but back seat of the car/no seatbelt is very significant because 1. he can’t swerve, he just has to take the crash and 2. he isn’t doing the bare minimum to protect himself from the hit, he’s letting himself take maximum damage from it. while Luke may be in the passenger seat in the fic, he can still take that little step to protect himself metaphorically, which goes along with the decision to protect himself by not trying to pursue something with Ashton or try to get the validation from him that he wants but that would ultimately be a lie.

also fun fact! my angsty Luke song is putting the dog to sleep by the antlers, which partially inspired the bear-trap metaphor despite bear traps not being mentioned in the song at all. when I wasn’t listening to a version of lie to me while writing that, I was listening to that song.

the tie me down trilogy also included a whole bunch of metaphors that first appeared in tie me down and I hate that for you. when I do song fics, I really look at the songs for inspiration, so a lot of the figurative language and images in the songs were incorporated into the fics, then I combined stuff for the third installment. best years arguably had the least amount of influence over the installment out of that trilogy.

I have had a few people ask if the cocktail chats reference in off-screen was intentional. it was. that moment in cocktail chats inspired the entire fic. it all stemmed from a desire to put that one little moment into a fic. also my personal thought is that off-screen Ashton pretends to dislike petunia but he actually adores her and calls her darling all the time when they’re alone. Luke heard him do it once and teased him mercilessly.

now for puzzle pieces!!!! sorry bella I know that you asked this question and haven’t read this one yet but I want to talk about it so you can stop reading now because that’s what the rest of this ask is.

I talked about this briefly once, but the colors for puzzle pieces were chosen specifically! there was thought behind it!

Michael got red not just because of the iconic red hair, which is how I almost think of younger Michael, but because it’s a pretty loud and brash color. Michael (especially when he was younger) doesn’t really filter things and wears a decent amount of his personality on his sleeve. that’s red to me, baby!

Calum has always been forest green to be. This is partially influenced by the empathy hoodie (even though that’s a bit brighter than forest green), but it’s more because my associations with green have always said it’s a very dependable, stable color. It reminds me of pine trees, and I think Calum can give off that same sense of reliability in weathering the seasons. It’s a quieter color but can really pop next to another one. It also worked out nicely that Calum and Michael’s colors were compliments

Luke gets gold because he is a sunshine boy! Luke actually was the person I had the most trouble with, because I was flipping between gold, a lighter blue, or pink. Pink ultimately was too close to red to make me be able to visualize what the marks looked like on each boy to my satisfaction like it just looked ugly. I went with gold because there is a lot of outward brightness in Luke. He’s the kind of person where if he’s happy everyone else gets a bit happier, and gold also seemed fitting for the eventual shift into a rockstar and the amount of talent he has

Ashton gets purple, but a deeper purple. Dynamic but still relatively stable, has a lot of depth. Purple is a secret color, but it’s still beautiful and it draws people in. When I visualize it it ends up being a really dark shade, but in reality he’s probably more of a royal purple than a plum purple

I have a lot of favorite moments in that fic but one that’s standing out now is right when Ashton and Michael do their first touch: “The dark purple reminds him of spilling grape juice on his clothes as a kid, and when he collapses into Ashton he feels like they could have known each other at that age, too.” There is something so charming about meeting someone later and feeling like you’ve known them your whole life, and that was significant here because Michael has known Calum and Luke since they were younger (although Luke did come in the picture when they were tweens/young teens instead of kids). I wanted to be sure that although Michael, Calum, and Luke are the triangle, Ashton is an equal part of their soulmate group. He doesn’t have the same history, but that doesn’t matter because it feels like he does.

also pretty early on in the fic (I think it’s when Calum is in Brazil) I say that Michael is always touch-starved for Calum, and I brought that line back in the hair dye scene because baby seasons change but people don’t! one thing is consistent about Michael and that is his love for Calum, expressed here through the love language of physical touch

As for clues for future scenes... :)

anyway! ask me some fun meta writer asks!

#ask #bella #thank you for indulging me #to anyone who read this whole thing: wowza #I have many things to say and will not be concise about it

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fandomssmoothie · 6 years

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First Encounter

Uh. Hi.

;;;;;

Bella, why the fuck am I doing this?

;;;;;

So. I hope you enjoy reading this?

This story...I really like it. I hope you like it too?

;;;; This is fucking weird, I’m not doing this. Bella, you’re doing the next one.

- Vanderwood

May 26, 2018 | 22:25

Izabella

Izabella walks through the busy kitchen, where noise and the sizzling sound of food being prepared fills the air. Her goal is the kitchen on the back, where she has to finish icing the strawberry cake, taking the opportunity to get some much-needed peace, sure catering is good for the business but she is already tired of standing around the whole afternoon.

She takes the cake out of the box and spreads the white icing over it, humming her favorite song she almost feels back in her own kitchen, she eats one of the strawberries before placing them on the cake, one strawberry to be sure... maybe two just in case.

The sound of the door being opened catches her attention, a man that looks like one of the staff members stands by the door. But, he looks in a hurry and suspicious... Izabella furrows her eyebrows.

"Who are you?" She asks him but he doesn't answer. He walks into the room and closes the door. "Are you a waiter? Because this is not where you are supposed to be," she asks again this time a little annoyed because he keeps on walking towards her not answering back.

He is too close... dangerously close.

Izabella drops the strawberry in her hand on the table, her instincts are telling her to prepare for impact because he is coming her way and she can feel he is not planning on stopping. His brown eyes completely focused on her. The two seconds her eyes run over him are enough to notice how handsome he is... Godammit, Izabella it's not the time for that.

"W-wait," she yelps when without a warning the man wraps his hand around her waist. "Lady," he tells her pulling her closer to his body, "some guys are after me, I would really love it if you could play along."

Play along, what does he mean? she has no time to think because his lips are almost over hers "I promise it'll be worth your while."

For a second she is not moving, his mouth his pressing on hers and as much as she wants to fight and push him away she can't. The slow sensual movement of his lips calls out to her own to move and respond to his. And she is glad she does, a line of heat runs across her face.

Her hands move on their own to his arms, up to his biceps, damn, until they are around the stranger's neck. She finally closes her eyes and focuses on the sensation of his lips and hold.

He kisses her passionately and god he is so good. His lips are full and sweet and when she gasps she lets him fill her mouth with his tongue.

She hears the door open and tenses up, but the wet muscle sliding along her lower lip makes her shudder and forget where she is and god knows who she is kissing. She hears whoever open the door say something but she can't comprehend. She just wants more of the man kissing her.

Would it be that bad to let him take her there?... wait, what?

No time to think straight... She runs one of her hands up to tangle with his hair, he breathes sharply and she can't help feeling the warmth already building in her. She moans into the kiss and he turns around placing her against the wall. His strong body presses on her, her tongue tangle with his and she loses all rationality.

Izabella doesn't know how long she stays there kissing the stranger. Their breathing becomes rushed, needy, and she feels him closer than before. His heat wrapping around her and she won't try to stop him now, not that she was trying at all...

A beeping sound makes him stop the kiss and pull away from her... what? both of them are panting looking at each other.

"Thank you," he says and completely moves away from her, he fixes his clothes, before walking away he winks at her and gives her a small salute.

When he walks out of the room Izabella remains pressing against the wall, trying to catch her breath...

What the hell just happened?

May 26, 2018 | 22:36

Vanderwood

Vanderwood quickly slips through a door and takes off his coat, pressing a hidden button on the inner lining that automatically shrunk the coat into a handkerchief. He slides off the rubber band from his hair and allows it to fall onto his shoulders just as he pushes open another door and enters a busy kitchen. Chefs are preparing entrees while waiters filtered in and out of the room.

Vanderwood tries to blend in, but the moment he sees guards enter the kitchen, he does an about face and pulls up the layout of the building in his head.

All the exits are covered by guards though. Goddammit. Left with no choice, he strides into the farthest kitchen, mentally preparing himself for the fight that will ensue if the guards find him.

But when he enters, he hears someone moving about in the kitchen. She's humming too.

She stops as soon as she notices him though. His first thought?

I would ask her out if I weren't about to be swarmed by angry thugs. Damn.

But he could hear the guards asking the staff if they had seen a sketchy man, and Vanderwood makes up his mind.

"Who are you?" the woman asks, looking at him with a strawberry in her hands. A cake lay on the table in front of her and he assumes she's the patissier. Unfortunately the secret agent doesn't have time for questions.

He goes into the room and closes the door behind him, eyes focused on the brown-haired woman who's asking him if he's part of the wait staff. Vanderwood can hear raised voices outside.

"W-wait!" the woman suddenly says as he takes the spot next to her and wraps an arm around her waist.

"Lady," he murmurs, pulling her closer to him. "Some guys are after me, I would really love it if you could play along."

She inhales sharply as he leans close to her, lips a breath away. The corner of his lips curl up slightly.

"I promise it'll be worth your while," he breathes before crashing his lips against hers, one hand cupping her cheek, holding her head in place in case she tries to blow his cover.

Vanderwood kisses her with a passion --a passion to stay alive. At first, the woman is stunned; her gray eyes are wide, hands frozen at her sides. But he moved his lips sensually, encouraging response from her until he feels her soft lips moving against his and a tingle runs down his spine.

Well damn.

The woman tentatively runs her hands along his arms, his biceps, until she wraps them around the back of his neck.

She closes those pretty eyes and he begins kissing her passionately, his kisses growing more heated. A breathy gasp escapes her lips and he takes advantage of it by slipping his tongue inside her, exploring her mouth.

At that moment, the door swings open and he feels the woman's shoulders tense, but he closes his eyes and trails his tongue along her inner lip, earning a shudder from the woman.

"Uh, boss, not here!" the embarrassed goon calls out, watching the two wait staff making out like a couple of horny teenagers. The woman lets out a moan and the goon feels himself getting hard. He exits the room in a hurry, face slightly red.

Vanderwood doesn't even notice the man leaving.

When the woman moans, he feels himself getting aroused, and he turns her to the wall and places her against it. Their tongues intertwine, and he presses his body against hers.

Fuck. She tastes so good.

Their heavy breathing fills the room and just as he's about to lose himself, Vanderwood hears his watch beeping.

The mission. Fuck.

Reluctantly, Vanderwood pulls away, panting. The woman is watching him, her chest rising and falling.

"Thank you," he says in a low voice, forcing himself to focus, to get back in action. But Vanderwood smiles as he rearranges his bow tie, smoothing out his polo. He winks, then gives her a small salute before rushing out of the room, thoughts of his escape route coming back to him.

Still, the kiss lingers in the back of his head and on his lips.

That was a hell of a fucking distraction. Ha.

Thank you for reading! <3 More Vandybella moments soon! :D <3

You can check out some of our other writings in the links below! ;)

@rossyele‘s Masterlist

@reifromrfa Masterlist

#mm #mysme #mystic messenger #mm oc #mm vanderwood #vandybella #vanderwood x oc #au #mysme short fic #short fic #fic #fanfic #mysme fanfic #vanderwood #izabella

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bellabooks · 6 years

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Jasika Nicole on the finale season of “Alice Isn’t Dead” and what’s ahead

The popular podcast Alice Isn’t Dead is now in it’s final thrilling season. I sat down with out actress Jasika Nicole, who plays the series’ leading character, Keisha, a truck driver on a quest to find answers about her missing and presumed dead wife, Alice. With a book coming out and talk of a possible television adaptation, this final season is far from the end for Alice Isn’t Dead. Jasika shares her experience leading this wonderful story, and how it’s changed her as an actor. Bella Books: There is a lot going on right now with Alice Isn’t Dead. How excited are you for this third season? Third and final season I should say… Jasika Nicole: I’m happy about it… I mean, you know I would love to keep doing it forever and ever. I love that he decided to come up with pretty much a self contained story that had a start and and end, because I think there’s a lot of things that started so amazing and then they just kept it going forever and ever and they kind of drained out all the story out of it, so I love that there’s a specific start and a finish. I have no idea how it’s finishing at all (laughs), so part of me feels like I am, you know, a member of the audience a bit because I don’t know where it’s going or what’s gonna happen, and every episode that he [creator Joseph Fink] sends me to record is, you know, the first time that I know what’s happening with the story, the journey of the characters, so… Bella Books: So you’re only getting one script at a time? Jasika: Yeah, and I don’t get like an overview or an arch of each season, or each storyline, or anything like that, which is fine. Like I don’t care (laughs) because it doesn’t affect my performance at all, but it’s like every time I get a new script I tend to get it with a note, like with the last one, I think it was chapter 4 he wrote “this one is spooky”and I was like, ok, if you’re saying it’s spooky. Bella Books: (laughs) Jasika: I think all of them have a good element of intrigue and spookiness in that, yeah. Bella Books: Oh, absolutely. Well, it certainly helps keep you on your toes and in the moment, right? Jasika: Yeah, it totally does and I love that I get to play around with it, and he really trusts the actor, and their ability to perform in their own expertise. He doesn’t give a lot of direction unless it’s, like, if I mispronounce a word or something like that, and so it’s kind of it. At first, it was really bizarre you know, coming from a background in television and film, I’m used to somebody kind of micromanaging every movement and character decision basically, so this was a lot of freedom to have. It’s kind of strange but I honestly really liked it, and one of my favorite things is reading the script and seeing there’s another character in it because I try to differentiate the voices a little bit. I obviously don’t want to sound exactly like that character I’m reading since it’s an impersonation to her, it’s more like what they sound like to her when she had a conversation with them, or when she saw them, and I think that relationship is being filtered through her own experience of that person. That might not be what the actual person sounds like, but it’s what they sound like to her, and so it’s a really fun thing that I get to do. It’s like you’re going to be voicing a different guy on this one, and when I’m reading it’s like “gotta come up with something, okay.” Bella Books: Also you recently did a live recording of Alice Isn’t Dead, or was it a special episode? Jasika: It’s both, it is a special episode, kind of a stand-alone episode that you could listen to and still be able to follow the narrative if you haven’t ever heard Alice Isn’t Dead before, but they just released… I wanna say the week after, they released the recording of that. We did that script for Seattle and then adapted it for Los Angeles, and it’s such a good episode. It’s one of those things that’s really special if you’re in the room, if you haven’t heard it. I’ll hold the spoilers, but it’s really special because she starts basically narrating what’s happening in real time with the audience there, which is really cool and eerie, and they’re playing this creepy background music, so it’s a really, really special performance that I got to do. I loved it. Bella Books: I know from our previous conversation that recording is usually a very solitary and intimate experience for you. I remember you telling me that basically you kind of lock yourself up in a closet. (laughs) Jasika: That’s exactly like it. Bella Books: What’s it like doing it in front of an audience? Jasika: It’s amazing, I love it so much. I miss being on stage. My background is in musical theater so I always imagined that I would be of course of doing musicals forever. Obviously there’s a very special relationship you get to have recording on stage with an audience, but this was so different from that, there’s no movement, there’s no choreography, so it’s just me with my microphone, and so I have to really trust my ability to capture an audience for like 45 minutes or an hour or something like that. It’s a really long time to be standing there and talking and not doing anything else, you know, with your body. Obviously you’re like doing gestures and stuff like that, but it’s just me and the audience and the music, and it’s so different from Welcome to Night Vale because that show has guests that come on, and this amazing narrator, and also the show deals with a lot of people that come in and out of a story, and Alice Isn’t Dead isn’t like that. It’s just me, or my voiceover and the audience, so I felt really nervous when we did the first performance of a live show which is actually just Disparition‘s music and me because… I don’t know, I guess I didn’t trust that I was gonna be interesting enough for an audience to really sit there for that long… Bella Books: Oh, please… Jasika: I’m serious! The thing is that I was kind of… selfish isn’t the right word. I was kind of thinking all the power is on that stage alone, when really it’s about the words and the story being told, and my goal is just being an instrument for that. And plus, you have the soundtrack, and everything all together is really great, and the audience is justs like right there with me. I mean, they’re in it. They gasp, they laugh. So I had to process that it is not, you know, just me. Again, voice acting is a solitary experience where I sit in the bottom of my closet for 45 minutes, but the live show is so much more than that, and obviously with the audience, they participate in it too, so it started being way more comfortable and less stressful than I initially thought it would be. Bella Books: I’m sure like most people, I was pretty taken aback when we found out that indeed Alice wasn’t dead. How does this change the game for Keisha? Jasika: That is a great question. At the risk of spoiling too much of the second season because obviously, you know, you get to hear Alice’s voice in the very last episode. Bella Books: And you get to hear her do an entire minisode. Jasika: Yeah, totally. So, I will say that in season 3, Alice is going to be a huge part of the story and what is happening, but it didn’t change the set up of the show, the format of the show. But now you’ve got two people that are sharing a story, and it’s really great because you get to hear one person describe what happened, and then you hear another person describe the same thing, and sometimes they’re right on the same page, and other times the two have totally different experiences. Obviously, they’re two very different people, but also because there’s been a bit of a betrayal in the relationship and so with that… everything isn’t happily ever after… Bella Books: Like you do when your wife all of a sudden, is dead, or not dead… Jasika: Exactly. There’s a bit of dissonance between the characters, and even in some aspects, I think the way that the story unfolds in the season which really, I think it’s brilliant, I think it’s so good. And here’s a really funny thing: So we recorded up to chapter 4 in this final third season, and just the other day Joseph was like “well, chapter 5 is next, but I’ve already written chapter 10 so I’m sending that.” So we’re about to record the last one before we get to go back for the rest. I just love it, it’s just so bizarre, and fun! I love that in podcasting you have the freedom to do stuff like that. Bella Books: Oh, I can’t wait. So, I know people say things like this, like “this is just a story about people who happen to be LGBT”, but it’s still kind of a big deal. And this show has a whole lot of queerness, not only are you an out queer woman, but your character is queer. It’s very refreshing to have such a queer-focused project like this! Was that always part of the plan or is that just kind of the way it happened? Jasika: Interesting question. I think that it’s just how it happened. I had gone to do a live show of Night Vale that wasn’t in LA, but it was in the surrounding parts of LA, and this was several years ago. Joseph just came and said “hey, I really wanna write a show for you, and I have this idea, and it’s about a queer person, and that’s all I can really say about that now, but would you be into recording it?” And I was like, “ok, first of all, nobody’s ever written anything for me specifically to perform and that is s huge deal” So I think that because I was the person that he wanted to write it for, he based it loosely around me, but just around the fact that I’m a person of color, the fact that I’m a queer woman. He let me name her, this was, you know, the second season, and he said: “I wanna give her a name if there’s a name you’d absolutely love…” So I was a part of bringing her to life even more, and I wanted to choose an obviously black name. I wanted this to be very clear because I had seen in so many people doing fan art and portraying the narrator in lots of different images. I personally don’t have a problem with that at all, and it think it’s pretty normal to hear specifically voices and see yourself in them. That’s what we do. That’s why stories are so universal, because it allows people to see themselves in them, so I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with drawing the image that we see, but obviously I wanted it to be known that she is a person of color. That you could draw her any way you want to but, the actual story is that this is a person of color. And so yeah, I think, the reason I find this so satisfying is that a lot of the relationships, narratives and stuff like that, you know obviously, for Night Vale a lot of the Americana touches and kind of identifying things the in story, a lot of the things she experiences on the road, and a lot of the stuff that happens between Alice and Keisha are based on the experience Joseph had with this girlfriend at one point, but wife now. I think it’s so true because it’s obviously important to see women in loving relationships in media, but when you get to the bare bones of it, love is a pretty universal theme, and there’s not a whole lot that doesn’t kind of cross boundaries. I think that so often what we see in the narratives in television and film, and in books for the most part, is that you don’t get to see white cis straight men making connections with people outside of their experience. Like they expect everybody to relate to them, and yet with many stories of other people they will automatically ignore or dismiss them because if they’re straight and white or whatever they’re not gonna see how that relates to them. They’re going to assume, well that’s a black thing, or that’s a queer thing, or that’s a woman thing. So I really like the idea of taking someone’s personal experience and showing how they it can expand across communities and identities because the ideas of love and loss, and being deceived, and having anxiety, that doesn’t know a color, it doesn’t know a body type, it doesn’t know a gender. It doesn’t know any of that. It’s pretty much prevalent in every community that I can think of, and so it’s something that’s always been really special for me. I felt a part of the story story, and I felt like I was part of his story, you know what I mean? Bella Books: Yeah. Jasika: Like it felt there’s a lot of hands in the pot mixing everything together and I just think that it worked out pretty well. Bella Books: So there’s also been talk of a TV adaptation of the show. Have there been any updates on that? Jasika: The guy who does Mr. Robot (Kyle Bradstreet) is the one who is going to be at the helm of the Alice Isn’t Dead TV show. It got optioned, I think i twas last year, which is very exciting. I would love nothing more than to be a part of this television adaptation, and there is the clause in the contract that… I forget the exact wording… But it has something to do with like good faith, like “we will cast the originator of this role in good faith.” I mean, I don’t know how much of this exists in Hollywood, so I just kind of take that at face value. I would really like to be part of the adaptation and I’m hoping that I would be, but it’s not… It’s certainly not confirmed or written in stone that I will be, and this also goes for the Welcome to Nigh Vale TV show, which actually got optioned several years ago and is also making the transition into a television show. So as with all the original cast they will hopefully be a part of the show, but maybe not. I don’t know. (laughs) Bella Books: (laughs) Jasika: I’m cautiously optimistic. I can’t tell you how many things I thought were guaranteed in my career that ended up falling through and not happening, so at this point, I’m just like, “well, I hope it happens.” Bella Books: You take a kind of wait-and-see attitude about it? Jasika: (laughing) Yes, that’s exactly right. Bella Books: So, what has been for you as an actor, as a person, the biggest takeaway from Alice Isn’t Dead? Jasika: Well, as an actor, I think I’ve learned in a lot of ways how to trust myself and my craft a little bit better. And obviously I’ve talked about the freedom that Joseph gives with recording by ourselves, but it’s also allowed me to experiment in ways that you’re just not able to do in other parts of this career. Again with most TV you just, you know, you can film 15 scenes and think they were all amazing and you’re so excited about it, but when the final cut airs or comes out you could be edited completely out of it, or you might be edited down to be like a peripheral character. There’s so much that you don’t have control of, but in podcasting it’s really just about you and your voice, and what you decide to do with your voice, and that’s pretty much the end game of it. There’s not much, not a lot of editing after that, except obviously like the music and that stuff. So it’s given me a lot more confidence in my instincts, I think, because again, when you’re in television and film, if you do end up being edited down, you never get to find out why. “Oh, the movie was running too long” or “your instincts were terrible and we had to get you off camera.” Like, you never get that, so you can go down a bit of a spiral. So it’s nice to be part of a project where whatever I do with that microphone, that’s what is going out into the world and people still like it. Obviously some people don’t, but that could be accepted, but for the most part people are really responsive to that, to me, and it just makes me feel a lot more comfortable with my abilities and my confidence. I feel empowered. I feel that I can sort of do this because, for somebody like me in the voiceover world, and I think we talked about this in our previous interview, it has been a rough road. I don’t get cast a lot because my voice doesn’t sound always the way that… Bella Books: Oh, yeah we totally did talk about this the last time we talked. Jasika: Yeah, so I feel like I’ve been able to have such an awesome experience within the voice over world just thanks to Jeffrey and Joseph, and it has got me more work. I’ve been able to do a lot more animated stuff that probably wouldn’t have paid much attention to me because I didn’t have a huge resume, or you know, a lot of voice over stuff on my resume, so that has made a really big difference for me, personally. Bella Books: Ok, so one last question because I know you’re so super creative, and you have so many cool ideas. What are you working on now that you kind of wanna just buzz about? Jasika: (laughs) Well, Let see, career-wise stuff? I’m doing a special short which is cool and I’m narrating the Alice Isn’t Dead audiobook that comes out in about October… Bella Books: Oh, great! Yes, the book! Jasika: I know, it’s really, really cool. I kind of assumed they would get somebody else for the audiobook (laugh) because… This is probably just me, but I thought they would be like “let’s just go another direction, let’s mix it up a bit!” Then I got to actually do it, I got the opportunity, and I’m most excited because you get to read it before everybody else, so that’s the coolest part. The Alice Isn’t Dead novel is available for pre-order now. You can follow Jasika Nicole on Twitter and Instagram. The Alice Isn’t Dead podcast is available wherever you get your podcasts, including iTunes and Spotify. http://dlvr.it/QSPxPL

#Celebs #News #Alice isn't Dead

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cloudauditorefair · 7 years

Text

Black Star Nonsense

The wrench slowed in its final turn as Rosalie realized it had been some time. She wasn't even sure how much time. Judging from the spark plugs, the routine check over, the cleaning of the engine...Anything from one to two hours.

One to two hours of silence in the garage.

One to two hours of not saying a damn word to Bella.

Bella, who didn't even have her phone.

So not only had Bella made the mistake everyone did at some point, but she'd committed to it. Everyone asked or tried to relax in the garage with her once. Only Esme and Jasper survived an entire hour before excusing themselves.

But Bella was still here, still being too good to her, still being bored out of her fucking mind, probably.

And then the inevitable sign came.

The chair she'd rolled out to Bella had started giving off the tell-tale squeak of it spinning.

Slowly, precisely, Rosalie straightened enough to pretend to be looking over the car. She swiped up a red towel to clean her hands on while she noted Bella in her peripherals.

She didn't exactly seem ready to bolt, but she was good at masking things.

The silence rang in Rosalie's ears, whispered how long it'd been there, reminded her that music followed Bella like her own shadow.

And Rosalie had failed at welcoming Bella into her space with such a simple, basic thing.

She sucked in a breath to try fixing this even though she still hadn't put together what to say.

"Fuck!"

The plastic of the wheels screeched against the concrete floor, followed by the leg, part of the seat, and finally Bella herself faceplanting with the chair on top of her. She didn't move. One wheel still spun, the only sound other than Bella's heart since she'd stopped breathing.

Rosalie dropped the hood, blinking.

A slow breath filled Bella's lungs just to rattle out as a tired sigh. "Ow."

At least there wasn't any blood.

By the time Rosalie started walking over, Bella was pushing the chair off of herself and rolling over to stare up at the ceiling. She got in the way of Bella's view as she knelt beside her. Brown eyes moved to her with a quiet betrayal she'd come to recognize.

"If you killed me now, I'd be okay with it."

Rosalie hummed. "No, I don't think so. Though I must say you didn't have to go to such lengths to leave."

And Bella did that thing were she focused on the wrong topic and her eyebrows drew together. "Who said I was trying to leave?"

"Everyone leaves." It wasn't meant to garner pity or anything, it was just a fact. A fact she cursed the same way she cursed Bella for making her so relaxed her filter utterly disappeared sometimes.

Bella didn't say anything.

Rosalie reached out to brush Bella's hair from her face and ran a finger across her jawline. It was still so odd, whenever it circled around her mind and insisted on being thought about. They'd been together for three months and twelve days and Bella hadn't flinched from her sharp edges once. She was so patient and so rash at once, so calm and yet so quick to be livid.

Rosalie was often called a storm, but Bella Swan was definitely one, and she loved every moment of it.

"I'm trying and failing to think of a joke involving oil."

For just a moment, Rosalie's brow furrowed. And then she realized she'd somehow gotten some grease or...honestly anything at this point, on Bella's cheek.

But Bella just offered her traditional half smile and took the towel from Rosalie's pocket to reach up and clean her chin instead of cleaning her own face.

"Isabella."

And brown eyes were on her. Waiting.

She never knew what she intended to say in these moments. She never knew what she wanted or hoped for.

Rosalie bent down to kiss Bella's forehead and was rewarded with a smile she matched.

Bella's, however, shifted and her eyes moved away. "I've been worried spinning would bother you."

Gold eyes slid over to the chair and back. Clearly she'd discovered an easy gift Bella would treasure. "You wouldn't have."

"I dunno." Bella finally tuned into what a sane person did after they fell and sat up. Her right arm swept in a wide arc around the garage. "You make art here, you know?"

"Bella, Esme and Alice are the artists. You know that."

She was staring at an old Chevy at an in-between state of being repainted. "Art is arbitrary, Venus. Yours is very detailed. Very precise. Everything from the wax job to the sound of revving the engine. You create that. An experience. It's beautiful and I didn't want to disrupt that or fucking T-bone a car worth more than me with my late model spinny chair of doom."

"Nothing's worth more than you," Rosalie murmured. She meant it. She'd torch the whole garage for Bella any day of the week. But Bella would never ask that of her, or even ask her to compromise her personal space.

"Ah, well, you know what I mean, Rose."

"Say my name."

Bella's eyebrow went into an intense arch. "Rose?"

"No."

"Rosalie."

"No."

The wheels turned in Bella's head, her eyes moving to and from Rosalie. "Uhm...Rosalie Lillian Hale?"

"I enjoy your voice."

Bella's jaw popped from how hard she clenched her teeth and Rosalie couldn't help a small laugh that dissolved into a smile.

"So you aren't ready to run away?"

Running a hand through her hair, Bella looked like she was actually thinking about it. "Have I ever?"

"No. No you haven't." She rose, pulling Bella to her feet as she did. She righted the chair with a click of her tongue. "I suppose you'd be more at ease with music, regardless. Where'd you leave your phone?"

"Uh--"

Rosalie cocked her head. "Never mind. Alice said you can't have it back."

"Sounds fair." She accepted Rosalie's phone, but she just stared down at it. "What?"

Gold eyes rolled as she crossed her arms. "Since the early 1900s, mobile phones have come a long way. Shockingly, you can use them as a device to entertain yourself."

"Oh, I'm entertained. I'm just...contained. There's a joke here, but I'm not sure what it is."

"Why?"

Bella clapped her hand on the back of the chair. "Oh, no reason. Just a bunch of expensive stuff around me. And, well, you know how human stains can be."

"Bella, you," Rosalie blinked, her arms slowly falling to her sides. "Bella, all of the keys are on the wall. You can touch whatever you like."

Bella Swan charmed her further by simply poking her shoulder for all of five seconds.

"I detest you."

"I detest you too, Rose!"

She made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat to keep the smile off her face. "Well, you never seem to detest food, and I'd ask when you last ate, but it never matters. So where would you like to go?"

"Nowhere. I'm good for a bit. You can keep making art, I'll just admire your process. And your work."

Though she backed up with a slight bow and an entirely awkward smile, Bella kept her hands in her pockets as she began to wander the garage.

It was another hour or so before she heard Bella's stomach and had to choose food because Bella couldn't decide.

#black star #black star nonsense #rose x bella #rosalie hale #bella swan #black star scene #bella thinks rose is an artist #rose is melting inside #this is so cute wtf #wuabs

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evakfanficsrecs · 7 years

Text

Hey guys!

As you might know, this week is the Skam Fic Week happening, and since we are a Skam (Evak focused) Fic Rec Blog, we wanted to get in on the fun! Hence, in the spirit of the event, we’ll be holding our own so called SKAM FIC REC WEEK, yay!

How will this work? - First of all, you should read the introduction post to the actual event hosted by the lovely @littlespooneven to gain understanding of what this is all about… Now onto our spin on the event… we will be picking our favorites of every day and adding them to this post which will be updated between Midnight and 1am CEST/6pm and 7pm EST daily!

Here are some small guidelines we have in place for this event (so we don’t lose our sanity):

only recommending Evak centered fics

only recommending fics that are either tagged with the #SkamFicWeek tag or/and have a clarification in the notes that it is in fact an entry for the event

sometimes we might add bonus recs for fics which are posted after our update time

We’re super excited to do this, since during the last Skam writing event, we got a lot of requests to participate and we couldn’t miss out on the opportunity this time! Hopefully you guys will all enjoy it too, as this is not only our way to praise our favorite authors of this amazing fandom, but also a gift to our lovely followers whom we appreciate and love dearly :’) We also figured this would be a great way to organize all the great new recs so everyone can access them easily!

Without further ado, you can find all the recs under the cut and make sure to check back in for 5-10 new recs every day! Have fun ♥

All the love,

Andie & Liv

DAY 1: ACCIDENTAL/FAKE DATING

how to get a guy in seven days by thekardemomme Summary: Even and Yousef won’t make a move, so Sana and Isak take matters into their own hands. It doesn’t go exactly as planned. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

my longing drives me crazy for you by highpraises Summary: Isak’s mum worries, Isak makes bad life decisions and Even loves Isak. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

makin’ me a mess by itjustkindahappened Summary: The boy gives him a look of alarm, making a weak attempt at drawing his hand back, but Isak keeps holding it convulsively as he looks pleadingly into the stranger’s eyes. “Listen, this is super humiliating for me but I’m currently getting stood up on a date and my ex is a waiter here and he’s already been walking past my table too many times and looked far too satisfied for it to be casual so can you please just—pretend to be my date or something? I’ll pay for dinner and everything, I’m really sorry about this, I just—please?” Recommended by: Andie

friends don’t treat me like you do by hippopotamus Summary: Isak’s going to humiliate himself in front of Even’s friends because he has no idea how to be - pretend to be - in a relationship. What is Even expecting him to do? Hold his hand? Kiss him? Hold eye contact with him for more than two seconds? Isak can’t do any of that. And he also can’t sleep. Recommended by: Andie

last night by bbyfruit Summary: Alright, so Isak is pretty used to waking up hungover in the middle of the afternoon, especially at this point in his seventeen years of living. He’s also pretty used to waking up in Jonas’s bed, usually with Jonas curled up beside him, light that comes in through Jonas’s window and hits Isak right in the face. What he’s not used to is Jonas’s arm slung over his hip and no memory of what the fuck got them to this point. Recommended by: Andie

I May Have a Little Crush on You? by shipblur Summary: Even helps Isak out of a tight spot. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Runaway Boyfriend by stories_and_dreams Summary: Stuck in an airport and trying to get back home to his friends’ wedding, Isak Valtersen is surprised to run into a former classmate from his old school back in Norway. Even Bech Naesheim. They barely know each other, and somehow, before he knows it, Even becomes his “pretend boyfriend” for the weekend wedding. They end up having a great time together but when the weekend’s over so is their relationship, right? Destiny has a different plan, as they keep running into each other again… and again…and again. Will they ever become real boyfriends and stop running from each other? Recommended by: Liv

The best boyfriend by champagneleftie Summary: “Hey man, what’s up. I’m Isak.” The guy still looks confused, like he has no idea what’s happening, so Isak decides it’s probably best to be as obvious as possible.“Vilde’s boyfriend.” This is the possible love of Even’s life, the most perfect boy he’s ever laid his eyes on, with the perfect height and perfect lips and sometimes he does this little thing with his tongue that reduces Even to a puddle of feelings – and he has a girlfriend. * A very liberal interpretation of the fake relationship trope. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Andie’s BONUS REC: I couldn’t possibly leave this list without mentioning Ciara’s (aka the actual creator’s of this event) brilliant entry which you can read either on her blog or in her collection of various oneshots/drabbles on AO3.

DAY 2: BED SHARING

quantum mechanics of fate by thekardemomme Summary: Isak is scared of thunderstorms, and Even is the only one home to help him sleep. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Not in my bed by Taraxacus Summary: Even is in Isak’s room, soaked wet. He’s staying for the night, and he and Isak will have to share Isak’s bed. Considering they are just friends, it shouldn’t be this nerve wracking. And yet. Isak’s heart is beating loud, louder than the thunder inside, and all the while Even is looking like a dream. Fluff ensues. Recommended by: Andie

seasons may change (but i love you) by kittpurrson Summary: Three times Even and Isak share a bed platonically, and one time as more. Recommended by: Andie

Double Trouble by obscurial Summary: Furrowing his eyebrows in utter confusion, Isak narrows his eyes, trying his very best to formulate a single articulate thought. (System failure.) “What the fuck?” he very eloquently blurts out, gesturing wildly to the two Evens sitting in his bed, one in a visible state of undress and the other wearing one of Isak’s old t-shirts. The two of them do not seem to be worried in the slightest, which only serves to fuel Isak’s panic. (An au where Isak wakes up and he finds two Evens lying in his bed.) Recommended by: Andie

BELLA by LiliMane Summary: “I don’t think you’re a kitten expert, Even, so you shouldn’t be running your mouth in regards to kitten issues with such confidence.” Recommended by: Liv

Sleep on it by unsungyellowraincoat Summary: ”I can’t deal with you right now,” Isak says, turning his head away. “I’ll sleep on the couch.” Recommended by: Andie, Liv

loving you to sleep by highpraises Summary: Even and Isak cuddle a lot, and love each other a whole lot. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

The Motel Stay by dear_ida Summary: Out of gas, the boys are forced to stay overnight at a motel and share a bed. This obviously works well for everyone. Recommended by: Andie

this house is falling apart by bbyfruit Summary: Pros of living with your best friends: they do cool shit with you. Cons of living with your best friends: sometimes their definition of cool shit is forcing you to go camping and share a sleeping bag with a stranger. Recommended by: Andie

just move in close to me by allyasavedtheday Recommended by: Andie

DAY 3: ALTERNATIVE FIRST MEETING

And for special effects he has six filters by imminentinertia Summary: lbr, it’s sheer luck (and Isak’s love-struck POV) whenever Even comes across as suave (well, maybe except for the carefully executed slo-mo walk). This is what really happened in the school bathroom. Recommended by: Andie

the one with the hot naked guy by pansexuaIeven Summary: Eva’s apartment comes with a view of a hot naked guy. Isak isn’t complaining. (Or, a fic inspired by ugly naked guy on Friends) Recommended by: Andie

ride it, cowboy by highpraises Summary: Isak is a talented rider and Even is pretty sure he’s in love. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Literal Adonis by champagneleftie Summary: Sana and Isak have lunch and Isak meets a literal Adonis. Recommended by: Andie

Make you work up a sweat by diamondjacket Summary: Even is deeply, utterly, monumentally screwed. Also, if Even could actually get deeply, utterly, monumentally screwed by the dude in front of him, preferably into a mattress in the next forty-five seconds, that would be great. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

slippin’ away at the end of the day into dreams of the two of us running away by wyoheartsmusic Summary: Isak sends an awkward text to a wrong number. It’s the best mistake he’s ever made. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

The Very Personal Shopper by Crazyheart Summary: A shopping service AU. * Isak is too lazy to shop his groceries, and too fed up with Eskild’s complaints, and finds that a shopping service would be perfect. But what could he do when his personal shopper turned out to be the most gorgeous guy he had ever seen? Recommended by: Liv

The Times We Meet by falsified Summary: Even is a cab driver who Isak keeps meeting unintentionally (and intentionally). Recommended by: Andie, Liv

when i met you, when we started off (it sure was a different kind of love) by dewdrops Summary: Sana is supposed to tutor Even but can’t make it due to some vague, unforeseeable events. Recommended by: Andie

DAY 4: REWRITTEN/EXTENDED CANON SCENE

You Know How I’ve Been Acting a Little Weird Lately? by kapplebougher Summary: Isak’s finally opened up to Jonas. Jonas feels relieved, and happy, and proud…but also a little guilty. (A little microfic window into Jonas’ thoughts once he’s come home after his kebab with Isak at the end of ep 6) Recommended by: Andie, Liv

I think you’ll find I’m the master here by evakuality Summary: “You’re older than me! I’m the master, and you’re still tired too, so don’t be a fucking dick.” Or… what happens after Even gets his boner at Isak’s birthday party. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Destinations set by imminentinertia Summary: Isak hasn’t planned anything. Even has, or at least he’s had a flash of inspiration. He doesn’t get his Amazing Magical Extra Special Pool First Kiss, though. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

you’ve got the light to fight the shadows by highpraises Summary: Isak’s thoughts after Mekke Øl. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Syng by waitineedaname Summary: It was supposed to be a good night. He’d go out with his boyfriend and their friends, have a couple beers, sing a little karaoke. It wasn’t supposed to end up like this. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

BONUS REC: allyasavedtheday’s drabble on the prompt: What would have happened if the little girl didn’t find the boys in the pool back in episode 4? Recommended by: Andie, Liv

DAY 5: WORK COLLEAGUES AU

Thank You for Flying Norwegian Air! by falsified Summary: Isak and Even are both flight attendants who definitely don’t have feelings for each other. Seriously. They’re just friends. Right? Recommended by: Andie, Liv

It Only Takes a Taste (When You Know It’s Good) by shakespeareandsunshine Summary: It would be bad enough if it was just some mystery coworker stealing meals from the office fridge. Then Isak could hate their anonymous ass in peace. But no, Isak has a very good idea who the culprit is. And seeing the villain in the breakroom every day, smiling at Isak like he has nothing to apologize for was testing Isak’s very limited patience. And also probably his self-control, although for an entirely different reason. Recommended by: Andie

i tried to be strong but i lost it (i knew it was wrong, i’m beyond it) by highpraises Summary: Even has a thing for his intern, Isak has a thing for his boss, they’re both a bit clueless and their friends just want them to get their shit together. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

Mamma Mia by MermaidsandMermen (SophiaSoames) Summary: The workmates AU for day 5 of Skam Fic Week. And it had to be IKEA, and it had to be Evak, and it has to be ABBA. Of course. A tiny bit of Sweden in the middle of Oslo. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

EVEN by LiliMane Summary: Whatever. People come and go. Sometimes they don’t come at all. Sometimes they only send you money. And the ones that come don’t stay too long. But that’s how it is and there’s nothing I can do about it. Not that I want to do anything about it. I can accept reality. I’ve been doing nothing but accepting reality since the day I stopped dreaming. And I’m doing quite well, if I do say so myself. Recommended by: Liv

Colleagues? by bashfulisak Summary: Isak and Even have been work colleagues for three years - a couple for two - and they like to call the office their “second home” for multiple reasons. Recommended by: Liv

Unclassified by bri_ness Summary: “Separate fiction from fact, romances from tragedies, the stories you want to experience from the ones you’d rather ignore.” * Isak and Even flirt in a library while having some deep thoughts about cataloging. Recommended by: Andie

stuck on you (what did i do?) by itjustkindahappened Summary: It’s not that Even doesn’t try to be friendly with him—Isak just makes it so hard. Whenever Even approaches, Isak either makes up a fumbling excuse to leave, or just becomes really stiff and refuses to acknowledge Even’s existence. Whenever Even’s tried to talk to him Isak has just stared into his coffee and mumbled out one-word answers until Even’s had to give up, and it’s just so unfair. Because Isak’s just fine around everyone else—he laughs and jokes around, and Even can just watch from afar how his eyes crinkle up with sunshine and wish he could get to be the one that put them there. Or, a teacher AU with zero teaching and a lot of crushing. Recommended by: Andie

I Don’t Date Cops by jinglebin Summary: Isak gets a new colleague and he’s instantly smitten. Until said collegue tells him he doesn’t date cops. * Isak and Even at the 99th precinct. Recommended by: Andie

BONUS REC: Ink About Me by readwritesleep Summary: They all have stories on their skin. That’s why they do this, because they love stories. The tricky part is, stories don’t turn into reality until they start to mix. When Even steps through the door of the tattoo parlour, a new story enters. Even might only have eyes for Isak, but Jonas can sense reality shifting around all of them. Recommended by: Andie (I know this one isn’t technically Evak centered and it’s from Jonas’ POV, but I loved it so much that I just had to include it anyway.)

DAY 6: WEDDING GUESTS AU

can’t stop thinking of your diamond mind by ahana Summary: I’ve been hashtag blessed, is all Isak can think. * Or, Even crashes a wedding and Isak’s not too happy about it, until he is. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

The Disaster Wedding by Jules1398 Summary: Even goes with Isak to his cousin’s wedding. Recommended by: Andie

Always the Guest, Never the Groom by allyasavedtheday Recommended by: Andie

we could burn and crash, we could take a chance by highpraises Summary: Even meets Isak outside of a wedding and experiences love at first sight. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

BONUS REC: Balance by waitineedaname Summary: Jonas and Mikael are the best men and best friends to the newest and sappiest married couple in Oslo. And yet, they’ve barely spoken to each other. Why don’t they change that? Recommended by: Andie (Again, not Evak centered, but super cute if you like a bit of Jonas x Mikael!)

BOUNS REC: Best Man Support Group by bri_ness Summary: “I’m having an existential crisis at my best friend’s rehearsal dinner.” “What a cliché.” * Jonas and Mikael bond as they help Isak and Even prepare for their wedding. Recommended by: Liv (Not Evak, but is Jonas x Mikael!)

DAY 7: BASED ON A 'FRIENDS' EPISODE OR A MOVIE

the one with the disastrous double date by highpraises Summary: Isak and Magnus agree to set each other up with blind dates, but Magnus forgets to find Isak a guy. Recommended by: Andie, Liv

TOW The Blackout by bri_ness Summary: “I’m stuck in an elevator with Hot Neighbour.” Recommended by: Andie, Liv

off the maps by ahana Summary: “I can’t stop running back to you,” Even whispered into the quiet of the night. Isak looked at him, green eyes unwavering. “Is that a bad thing?” “I don’t know yet.” Or, a Brokeback Mountain AU. Recommended by: Andie

Those magic changes my heart arranges by diamondjacket Summary: He slowly, cautiously lifts his gaze. And his eyes run smack into blue ones he thought he’d never see again. Those blue eyes widen immediately, and that soft, pillowy mouth— the same mouth that had tasted Isak’s, not long ago— drops open in shock. “Isak?” Recommended by: Andie, Liv

I’m Flying by bashfulisak Summary: Isak meets Even on the RMS Titanic - and somehow, someway, they fall in love. Recommended by: Andie

Pinstripes (Are All That They See) by shakespeareandsunshine Summary: “No. No no no no no. Nope. Nuh uh. Not happening.” This, surprisingly, from Magnus, finally fully awake and shaking his head vehemently. “We are not putting out a hit on the poster child for happiness.” Isak can’t help but agree. “Not the man,” Jonas says, exasperated. “The dog.” And, well. That certainly changes things. (Otherwise known as that Heist AU you never knew you needed.) Recommended by: Andie

The One With Jonas’ Wedding by allyasavedtheday Recommended by: Andie

the one where even is extra by bbyfruit Summary: In which Even tries way too hard, Isak is just trying to deliver some damn pizza, and the Balloon squad are best bros. Recommended by: Andie

that's how you know by colazitron Summary: The boy of one's dream doesn't usually metaphorically fall into one's lap through a magical well from a parallel universe. But sometimes, he does. Or: a Disney's Enchanted AU. Recommended by: Andie

the one with the prom video by thekardemomme Summary: Even has been in love with Isak since they were younger, but he never intended for Isak to find out this way. Recommended by: Andie

#even x isak #isak x even #evak #evak fanfiction #evak fanfiction rec #skam fanfiction #skam fanfiction rec #skam #masterposts #skamficweek #skamrecweek #fake dating au #bed sharing #coworkers au #wedding guests au #weddings #tv show based #movie based

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