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reidyoulikeabook · 3 years

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Invisible String

Ship: Fem! Reader x Spencer Reid

Warnings: None, this is just fluff.

Word count: 3.2k

Summary: You and Spencer Reid don’t know it, but you’ve almost met quite a few times. What happens when you do?

A/N: This is potentially a bit on the wrong side of the cheesy line, but I was listening to invisible string by Taylor Swift and couldn’t get this idea out of my head. Pls bare in mind I’m from the UK and my only understanding of the US college system is from Google searches, so pls be forgiving of any misunderstandings about that.

November 6th, 2007

Dr. Spencer Reid. As you sat, thumbing through the article he’d written about the formation of ionic compounds in a chemical whose name you could not for the life of you spell or pronounce, you couldn’t help but resent the man.

Sure, the paper was very well-written and as cohesive as possible given the complex subject matter. But Dr. Spencer Reid, whoever he was, was the current source of your resentment at selecting chemistry to make up your science credit. Highlighting the name of a substance you’d have to look up later, you sighed. It was getting late but you had to hand in a critical summary of the paper on Friday.

It didn’t help that Dr. Reid was: a) a triple doctorate holder by the age of 22, or b) that your chemistry lecturer was none other than his old chemistry lecturer from Caltech and practically glowed with pride whenever he got to bring him up.

You chew on the end of your pen, having now distracted yourself from the notes. Not that you were particularly focused anyway.

In another life, maybe you’d have been a budding chemist who could describe an ionic lattice off rote. In this one, however, you’d just have to settle for slogging through the list of chemical processes and hoping you understood it well enough to please Dr. Reid’s biggest fan.

***

April 16th, 2008

Spencer hated flaking on commitments. It caused him a great deal of anxiety, the feeling of disappointing someone. He didn’t have much choice in this circumstance though.

Diana had taken ill over the last weekend. Nothing serious, some stomach bug or other. She’d become severely dehydated though, and had been hospitalised as a precautionary measure. Truth be told, he might not have gone if she hadn’t caught him on the phone. He was already feeling guilty for not having visited since Christmas. He wrote her letters everyday, yet still felt like he was neglecting his duties as a son. Rubbing his hands over his face, he lets out a deep sigh. Then takes out his laptop, to send another email.

Dear. Dr Abraham

I sincerely apologise again for my last minute cancellation. Excluding any unforeseen circumstances, myself and SSA Hotchner will be available to present the lecture on May 12th.

Yours sincerely,

Dr. Spencer Reid.

***

May 12th, 2008

Considering this was your third year on campus, you sure were bad at finding your way around. In your defence, they were doing maintenance in one of the main buildings, meaning that lectures got shuffled around and relocated. You probably had a higher change of attending the right lecture by accident than on purpose.

It doesn’t help that you’re running a little late this morning. You rush into Room 203. A lot of the seats are taken, you have to meander your way past quite a few people until you end up sat almost directly in the middle. Only moments before the lecture starts.

“I’m SSA Hotchner, and this is SSA Reid. We’re members of the BAU which is based at FBI quarters in Quantico. Today, we’ll be talking to you about profiling.”

This is not your forensic linguistics lecture.

Panic hits you, hot in your gut. Scanning the room anxiously, you suddenly become conscious that you’re drawing attention to yourself when you feel the eyes of the man who is not SSA Hotchner on you. Fuck.

There’s no way for you to escape now, not without disturbing half the lecture hall.

So you sit back in your seat, resigning yourself to sit awkwardly in the lecture you’re not supposed to be in and hoping nobody notices.

But then, it’s really interesting, actually. The work that Dr. Reid does sounds similar to work you’ve done in forensic linguistics, analysing patterns of speech and minor phrase formations that can give things away about the perpetrator. By the end of the seminar, you’re sat leaning forward. Enraptured by almost every word coming out of their mouths.

It seems to be the general mood: everyone is enamoured. People are clammering to speak to them at the end. After a brief inner battle, myou decide that you should talk to them too.

What’s the harm?

You’ve decided that you’ll speak to Dr. Reid, since he seems to share more of a field focus. However, as you’re heading down, you spot him. Dr Adams, your chemistry lecturer from last year. Oh shit, it’s that Dr. Reid.

Speaking to SSA Hotchner will just have to do instead.

----

“I’ve been majoring in forensic linguistics and criminal psychology,” You tell him, “Do you think ... I mean, I know it’s a pretty exclusive team to get on to. But is that the kind of thing that could maybe get me there one day?”

Hotchner nods, “Forensic linguistics is something that comes in very useful in the investigative aspects of cases. The FBI is always looking for new angles and perspectives, those are both good subjects to study if you were thinking of signing up to the academy.”

"Thank you, Agent Hotchner,” You say, suddenly a little bashful as you notice the queue of people lingering behind you, “That was a really interesting lecture. It’s definitely something I’ll think about.”

“You should talk to Dr. Reid if you have a particular interest in the linguistic aspect of profiling. He’s more specialised in that area than I am. I’m sure he’d be more than happy to discuss any research you’re conducting at the moment and suggest materials that might be helpful in furthering your understanding of the area.”

“Thank you,” You smile, and he nods at you again.

Stepping away from Agent Hotchner, you look to your right. Dr. Reid is still engaged deeply in conversation with Dr. Adams. You glance at your watch. There was time before your next class, you supposed, so you could wait. It couldn’t hurt to find out more, could it? It wasn‘t like you were getting your hopes up or anything.

It’s then that you feel a pair of arms around your waist, a familiar scent of cologne.

“Hey!” You whip around to see your boyfriend, grinning widely.

“Hey,” You reply, “How’d you find me?”

“I was walking past when I saw you talking to that FBI agent. Seriously, FBI?” He asks, with a disapproving quirk of his eyebrow, “You want to grab a coffee before Psych?”

You want to say no. But he’s got his hand on the small of your back, leading you out of the room before you even get a chance to reply. You glance back over your shoulder, making eye contact with Dr. Reid for all of two seconds before you’re swept away.

“Seriously though babe, FBI?”

Unsurpisingly, you don’t mention your potential change in career path to him.

***

March 8th, 2009

“Come in,” Hotch calls. He looks up from the paperwork on his desk to see Spencer entering the room, clutching a report in his hand.

“That last case we were on. I was doing some more research, just for future reference about linguistic patterns. Have you read this?” He asks, sliding a copy of your paper across the desk.

Hotch gives it a cursary look over, nodding, “Yes. It’s interesting. She’s signed up as an NAT. I believe I actually spoke to her at one of our lectures last year.”

"Her work is really impressive for somebody whose only studied this at a master level.”

Hotch almost smiles, “Yes. That’s exactly why I’ve recommended to the bureau that she signs up for profiling classes. Her work shows a lot of promise. They’re sending over a copy of her completed thesis, if you’d like to read it.”

“Yeah, I’d like that, thank you,” Spencer says, struggling to conceal the smile playing on the corner of his lips.

“I’ll email it to you as soon as I receive it.”

Spencer nods, smiling properly to himself as he leaves the room. It wasn’t unusual, exactly, for him to share new research that was relevant to cases. It was important that they all kept themselves fresh and acquainted with new theories about the field. Hotch, however, didn’t miss the excited way Spencer had presented it to him. Talking about how impressive you were, as if to subtly hint. He thinks it’s quite typical, actually, that Spencer could take such an interest in someone he only knew via an essay.

Although Spencer’s response does get Hotch to send a follow-up email, inquiring about whether you’d agreed to the classes. If Spencer was this impressed with your work, it must be good.

***

June 1st, 2009

The Metro that morning is packed. It doesn’t help that you’ve not been living here long, and don’t exactly know the route from your flat to the station off by heart yet.

You'd also had to make a detour to the post office. Your, firmly ex, boyfriend had mailed over the last of your things. Really, it was good riddance. His hounding you about your choice in job had only worsened. The relationship had been hanging on by a thread long before you’d moved away last month. You were more than a little grateful that it was finally over, that you could draw a line under it all and focus on your career.

Unfortunately, that hadn’t stopped you having a little cry to yourself on the way over.

Rushing, you make it onto the Metro just as the doors are about to close, falling against the railing on the left side. You grip onto it for dear life.

On the other side of the carriage, Spencer notices someone hurrying for the train. He had been buried deep in the paper he's reading, but the bustle had pulled his attention. Your back is to him, and there’s a scarf at your feet. He wants to say something, to try and get your attention, but he can’t from where he is.

“Miss, I think you’ve dropped something,” The woman you’re standing in front of says, gesturing to the scarf pooled at your feet.

You meet her eyes, sniffling slightly, “Thank you.”

Spencer watches as you pick it up, back still to him. Crisis averted, he turns his attention back to what he's reading: the published copy of your thesis Hotch had emailed him last week.

***

September 2nd, 2009

"This is SSA ____, the newest member of our team. She’s recently graduated from the academy and has an excellent knowledge of linguistics that the bureau feels will be a great advantage to this team. She’s had her induction and now will be joining the team on a probationary basis. She’ll be spending a little time with each of you in between cases to make sure she forms well-rounded knowledge of all aspects of what we do.”

It’s a little overwhelming, having everybody’s eyes on you.

“It’s so nice to meet you,” Emily is the first over, offering her hand for you to shake.

“You too, it’s really nice to meet all of you,” You say, shaking hands in turn with her, Morgan, Rossi, J.J, and Garcia.

“Hi,” Spencer calls from behind you.

You turn around to face him. You remember what Hotch had mentioned to you about him being a bit of a germaphobe, so you keep your hand by your side.

“Hi,” You say, “Dr. Reid, right?”

“You can call me Spencer,” He says, a little bashful, “I read your thesis, the study about you did about the construction of passive clauses as an indicator of guilt in adolescent offenders. It was fascinating.”

You feel yourself getting a little warm under his gaze, “Thank you. I'm surprised you’re even aware it existed.”

Hotch interrupts then, “Reid, do you want to sit with ____ while she goes over the case file? It’d be useful if you could go over how you’d go about constructing a linguistic profile.”

That’s how you end up spending much of your first day: with Spencer, huddled up over case files as he explains his profile-building process to you. Spencer’s an incredible teacher, you think. He explains his thought process without ever being condescending, leaving little gaps for you to answer.

You’re incredible, Spencer thinks. You seem to grasp exactly what he’s saying, filling in the gaps based on the clues that are actually in front of you, not letting yourself be guided too much by bias.

***

October 29th, 2009

Spencer loves everyone at the BAU. They’re all the family he never had, and he has relatively good friendships with all of them. Just, they aren’t quite the same as they are with you.

He struggles to put his finger on it, exactly. It’s a unique relationship. He shares very familial bonds with a lot of them: he and Morgan are brotherly, Rossi is fatherly, Garcia’s somewhat like an overexcited little sister.

The friendship he has with you is special. You always listen to him, even as he rambles on about inane things that anybody else would tell him to shut up about. In fact, sometimes about the exact things that they do tell him to shut up about. Just last week, he was rambling on about Star Trek when Morgan told him, not altogether unkindly, to “give it a rest, kid.”

“What was that you were saying?” You’d asked, sidling up to him, “I’ve never watched Star Trek but I thought the quote was beam me up Scotty.”

He’d looked at you, considering you for a moment, “You don’t have to-”

“I know. I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to know Spence. You think I’d ask for a 15 minute lecture on Star Trek if I wasn’t interested in it?”

A warm feeling flooded his chest. The look on your face was so genuine, and you’d perched on the edge of his desk as he gesticulated, getting deep into the lore and how the misconception had come about. He still didn’t pinpoint exactly what it was, until he got to the end of his spiel. And then you asked him a question. You asked him a question to make sure you understood what he was talking about. You were listening the whole time, and you genuinely cared about the point he was making.

It's then that he realises, it was hard to pinpoint because it wasn’t friendship. He likes you. Shit.

***

November 2nd, 2009

You like everybody at the BAU. They’re all quite patient with you, really, happy to walk you through how they do things. Morgan’s taught you quite a bit about the tactical side of things already, and Rossi has been working with you on your interrogation techniques. Emily’s generally just a great mentor, always happy to listen and support however she can. She’s more experienced, but still relatively new to the team too, so you feel like there’s a certain understanding between you.

However, you’d definitely be lying if you said the person you hadn’t learnt the most from, or spent the most time with, was Spencer.

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by the rest of the team, either. You seemed to gravitate towards one another, forever sitting side-by-side on the plane. Sharing a line of thinking that usually led to devolved rambling, and scribbling, until you came up with something coherent.

It isn’t until November 2nd that you realise you have feelings for him.

You’re sitting at your desk, filling out a case report that Emily had promised to go over with you before she left for lunch.

“Hey,” Spencer’s familiar soothing voice comes, as he sidles up to you, “I got you something.”

Looking up, you notice the coffee cup in his right hand, “You are my caffeine lifesaver.”

He hands it to you, smiling a little nervously, “It’s actually not that.”

“Oh?”

His other hand is tucked behind his back, and he pulls it foward towards you, brandishing a red sweatshirt.

“I know you uh, left your red sweater behind at the hotel on the last case. And I know it was your favourite one, and I was shopping yesterday and I saw this and...” He trails off, embarassed, “It’s not the exact same, but it’s the same kind. I just thought you might like it.”

You swallow, hard, “Spencer that’s so sweet. C-Can I hug you?”

He nods. Standing up from your desk, you wrap your arms around his frame.

“That was so thoughtful.”

He squeezes you a little, really leaning into the hug, his face pressing against your shoulder. His tousled hair tickles your nose a little and you smile, clinging onto him, relishing in the feeling of safety and warmth.

It hits you then. When you realise you don’t want to let go. When you realise he makes you feel fuzzy. Loved. Cared for in a way you haven’t felt in a long time. Eventually, you have to let him go, and it’s in a daze that you return to your desk. You’re so concentrated on your overwhelming realisation, you don’t realise how reluctant he is to let you leave his embrace.

***

December 22nd, 2009

Driving Spencer home from the office was really just an excuse to get some time alone with him. You’d said something about the Metro being busy, one of the services being cancelled. He hadn’t factchecked you on that.

The BAU had tentative plans for boxing day, with the caveat being that no emergent cases arrived in the meantime. It was only really four days you wouldn’t see him, but that was longer than you’d ever gone without seeing him in all the time you’d known him. You worked together everyday, and it was unusual for you to go a full weekend without seeing each other. Recently, you’d got into the habit of going out for Sunday brunch together.

Pulling up outside his house, you hear him sigh.

“I know it’s only four days, but I’ll miss you.”

Smiling, you turn to him, “I’ll miss you too.”

Something in you changes then. He’s looking at you. You may be relatively new to profiling but you can see something behind his eyes, feel the charge of unsaid words electrifying the air.

“Can I hug you?” He asks.

“You can always hug me,” You reply, undoing your seatbelt and opening your arms for him.

He embraces you the way he always has: tightly. Like he doesn’t want to let go, couldn’t imagine ever letting you go. His face nuzzles to the crook of your neck, and then you feel his thumb brush your chin. Tilting your head down.

You exchange a look. His eyes flicker from your eyes, to your lips, and back. You nod your head, just slightly.

He kisses you then. Tender. You melt into one another, lips moving quickly as you drink one another in. Kissing each other breathless, your fingers intertwine in his hair and his hand comes up to cup your cheek. Nothing has ever felt so right.

***

June 10th, 2011

Neither of you have ever really believed in fate. It’s hard to - especially in your line of work - to want to interpret the workings of the universe as deliberate. Maybe you’d think a little differently though, if you knew about all the near-misses. All the times you could have met. But fate knew better. She waited until you were ready.

And as you exchange vows, promising each other your forever, you both know you couldn’t possibly deny that this was meant to be.

------

Taglists: @takeyourleap-of-faith @sassiest-politician

(let me know if you would like to be added to/removed from this list!)

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #criminal minds #reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #imagine spencer reid #criminal minds x you #imagine criminal minds #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid imagines #pls like this it took me so long

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things-we-cant-say · 3 years

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pretty little liar

Pairing: Ten x Female!Reader

Summary: In order to get your annoying ex off your back, you tell a little white lie that takes an unexpected turn.

Genre: College!AU

Warnings: Smutty smut, dirty dancing

Word Count: 4,867

A/N: Unable to withstand Ten’s power any longer, I had to start writing about him…or a version of him anyway. Hope someone out there enjoys my first dip into the ~imagines~ pond. ☺️

The party was in full swing by the time you and your best friend Amy arrived, the music so loud it could be heard down the street. It was a wonder the cops hadn’t broken it up yet but hey, the night was still young. Ducking through the arched doorway with Amy hot on your heels, you let her guide you into the foyer where you both stopped to take in the scene. The place was packed with people dancing, drinking and laughing—everyone apparently having a great time. Which was perfect for you because all you wanted to do was blow off a little steam and pretend you hadn’t spent the day fantasizing about committing the perfect murder.

You enjoyed school for the most part and you enjoyed your classes, but really you couldn’t wait for it all to just be over. Two extra years and your master’s degree in linguistics was almost within your grasp. You still weren’t one hundred percent what you planned to do with it (teaching was definitely out) but either way you were ready to dive into the real world. To no longer be stressed out about exams and papers and boring ass professors that constantly seemed to have a stain on their tie.

And to get far, far away from your stupid ex, Adam.

“Uh oh you have murder face,” Amy said as she peeped around to look at you. “What’s wrong?”

You shrugged. “Just in my head I guess.”

Amy hummed. “I get it. That’s why we are here though! To get fucked up and do something we regret in the morning.”

You laughed. “Guess we’re Uber-ing home.”

She grinned and grabbed your wrist, pulling you over to a table loaded with different types of alcohol. The guy ‘tending bar’ as it were winked as you two approached. “What can I get you for?”

“Something with alcohol but where we can’t taste the alcohol!” Amy exclaimed happily. “Oh! And if you’ve got any little umbrellas I’d like one of those too.”

He did finger guns and proceeded to cook something up in two red cups, sticking in two pink umbrellas when he was done. You and Amy took your drinks and after a cursory sniff, took a sip. The tequila wasn’t as strong as with a single shot but you could still detect it just not enough to make you stop drinking. Unlike Amy you didn’t plan to get completely fucked up but you weren’t going to say no to a nice buzz.

Cups in hand you migrated onto the dance floor and fell in with everyone else, bopping to the beat and scream chatting over the loud music.

“I really needed this!” Amy yelled. “Statistics is kicking my cute little ass!”

“I know what you mean!” You shouted. “But hey! Soon we’ll be done and actual jobs will be kicking our cute little asses!”

Laughing, Amy bounced up and down, sending her blonde hair flying. “Is that why you’ve been so grumpy lately? Or is it…he who shall not be named?”

With a sigh you took a big sip of your strawberry margarita. “Yeah. He keeps fucking calling me and leaving me these stupid ass messages, apologizing and shit. I’ve blocked him but he just uses someone else’s phone.”

Amy’s eyes stretched wide. “That’s like stalker behavior! Or maybe he really is sorry for what he did.”

You snorted. “Sorry for having sex with his ex in the backseat of my car? As far as I am concerned he can take his ‘sorrys’ and shove them so far up his ass they come out his mouth as safaris!”

Amy choked a little on her drink, hitting you hard on the arm in admonishment after she stopped coughing. “I hate you! I could have died!”

Her words made you smirk. “But did you? No but for real, fuck Adam. Fuck Adam and anyone who even looks like Adam!”

“Woo!” Amy threw both hands up into the air, yelping as liquid sloshed down onto her head. “Oh shit! Drink emergency I’ll be right back!”

Before you could say anything, she turned and hurried back towards the drink table. Alone in the middle of a dancing crowd, you didn’t know whether you should slink over to a corner or just keep dancing. That last thing you wanted was some random dude trying to groove with you. Of course if you decided to hold up the wall nothing would stop some random dude from trying to hit on you either. At a bit of a loss you drained the rest of your drink and did a I don’t really know anyone two step, hoping Amy would return soon.

The tequila settled nice and warm in your stomach, making you feel more at ease. Most of the people at the party were from your school but not ones you associated with on like, a daily basis. Sure you recognized a few faces from the library or cafeteria but there was no one you’d had more than a surface conversation with.

And then your eyes landed on him. Ten.

Ten was a…different sort of person altogether. He was the kinda guy CW shows thought actually existed in college, except he was very real. And very much fucking gorgeous in that unattainable way CW shows also loved. However, that sort of did him a disservice because as far as you knew, he was just a decent guy who happened to be able to do some pretty awesome things.

For example, he was an amazing dancer. The kinda dancer that just freaking mesmerized you when he moved. Had you wondering how in the hell had he taught his body to do that shit? One minute he was in total sync with everyone else and the next he was performing his solo and blowing your mind. He’d done some show a few months ago with a friend and you’d nearly flipped out of your chair watching him work. The body rolls, the attitude, the way he’d just commanded the stage…whew. Was it possible to be a fan of someone who wasn’t famous?

Then there was his art; things he designed himself or drew from memory. Art class was essentially where you’d sorta came to be acquaintances with him. You weren’t exactly good at drawing but you liked it enough that you wanted to improve, plus it helped you de-stress after particularly hard days. Ten on the other hand excelled and just like with dancing, it was interesting to watch his process. He’d described himself as a sensory artist so he wasn’t always as concerned with the end product as the professor sometimes wanted him to be. From your eye though he’d yet to create anything that wasn’t remarkable. In fact, more than once you’d wanted to ask him to design a tattoo for you, but felt it would be kinda weird. He had no idea what you were into after all. So far your conversations with him had consisted of colors and that one time he’d asked to borrow one of your brushes.

You were pretty sure he’d sold something to an art gallery.

Anyway so Ten could dance and he could draw and he could sing and he was fluent in several languages; as far as you knew the only thing he was kind of shit at was cooking. But who hadn’t set a class kitchen on fire once or twice? Or three times…

If he were an asshole—well people would probably still crush on him—you’d count that as a major flaw and want to keep your distance. But the kicker was that he could do cool things and he was nice. Dorky even especially when it came to cute animals. Was always posting pictures of himself at the animal shelter playing with the kittens and the puppies, or just acting like an idiot with friends. Yet it was that confidence that made him seem untouchable, and also made him sexy as fuck. More than once you’d fantasized about biting his Adam’s apple.

Heh.

Shaking your head, you fanned lightly at your face with both hands. Maybe stepping outside for some fresh air would be a good idea.

“Y/N!” Amy nearly tripped over her pretty sandals in her hurry to get back to you. “Weewoo weewoo weewoo!”

“Um…”

She grabbed your shoulder. “It’s a police siren! We have a code red situation here, I repeat a code red! Adam just walked in!”

“What?” You blinked and immediately looked towards the doorway, brows narrowing when you saw she was right.

Standing there in a white t-shirt in his formerly handsome glory was your ex-boyfriend, Adam. Once upon a time you’d thought the world of him; thought he was the kinda guy you could probably marry someday. The kinda guy you’d introduced your family to. Turns out he was the kind of guy that hooked up with his ex in your car repeatedly until finally being caught in the act. Sure it had been gratifying to make him and her walk home half naked but it had done nothing to quell the pain left behind. Thankfully though your pain quickly turned to anger and now you usually focused on not murdering him when he popped up. There was a lot you could forgive but cheating was firmly in the do not cross zone. Everything you’d felt for him evaporated the moment you saw him with her.

And he’d promised he was over her. Lying piece of shit, you thought to yourself.

“What the hell is he doing here?! Does he even know anyone here?” you asked with a frown.

“I dunno!” your friend said slowly. “It’s possible, big campus and all. Do you want me to help you climb out of the bathroom window?”

“Yeah my boobs aren’t fitting through one of those skinny ass windows,” you replied wryly. “Though to be honest I’m almost willing to risk it. C’mon let’s—”

It was too late. Adam spotted you like an arrow searching for its target, eyes registering shock and then elation. He reached you in three quick strides, opening his arms for a hug that he was damned crazy to expect. “Y/N. Wow you—you look amazing. I’m so glad we ran into each other.”

You huffed. “I’m not. I told you we’re over Adam. Or does me blocking your calls not get the message across?”

He exhaled deeply. “Look I know I messed up but I’m sorry. Classes were just really tough and—and Lucy and I would reminisce about old times…”

“Do I look like I give a shit? You cheated on me and we’re over.” The lie came so easily. “Besides, I’ve moved on.”

“Yeah!” Amy poked him in the chest. “She’s moved on so suck it!”

Adam arched a brow. “You’ve moved on?” He sounded skeptical and that made your blood boil. “Since when? And with who?”

You’d once heard that Hippocrates came up with the saying drastic times call for drastic measures though it wasn’t something you’d be willing to bet money on. However, standing there with your ex eying you like he just knew you were lying brought a whole new meaning to the idiom. You would one hundred percent be damned before giving him the satisfaction of gloating.

Tequila’s kicking in…

Without missing a beat, you put a hand on your hip and motioned to Ten. “Him. I’m seeing him.”

Amy made a sound like a cat having its tail stepped on while Adam gaped at you. “What? I—no. No way. You’re totally lying. I’ve seen the people he’s dated and you’re not his type at all.”

This bitch.

Twirling on your black heels, you strolled across the room to where Ten sat in an arm chair, chatting with a few of his friends. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you straddled his lap and leaned forward to whisper in his ear. “Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I know this is awkward as fuck—I’m so sorry—but if you just play along I will owe you big time. I’ll give you anything. You need a kidney? You can have a kidney.”

Ten’s friends had gone mute and as you sat back to gauge his reaction—or to possibly be thrown off of him—you bit your full bottom lip. His dark eyes were watching you calculatingly, his own lips pursed together like you were a riddle he needed to solve. Up close he was utterly breathtaking, all smooth skin and silky black hair that fell artfully across his forehead. He smelled incredible.

And then he spoke.

“There you are baby,” he said wrapping an arm around your waist. “I’ve been looking for you.”

That was when you figured you owed him your first born but it was fine. “Well, you found me. Sorry to keep you waiting.”

He chuckled. “You’re worth waiting for.”

His friends still looked confused though they didn’t have time to voice their opinions. Adam stalked over seconds later like a man on a mission. “So it’s true? You and Y/N are together?”

Ten tilted his head to the side and you saw the moment the lightbulb went off for him. “Yeah we’re together.”

Adam huffed. “Since when? For how long? Where did you two meet?”

Ten smirked. “Are you taking a survey or something?” He brushed his lips across your jaw, making you shiver. “The only thing that matters is that she’s mine. Let’s dance, Y/N.”

“I would love to,” you replied with a smile. You were also grateful he’d remembered your name.

You climbed off of his lap and took his hand, sending Adam a you thought look before pulling Ten out into the thick of the crowd. Your heart was beating a mile a minute but you felt too giddy to pay much attention to it. Plus, you knew Adam was watching you like a hawk and you didn’t want to let on how nervous you actually were. If he found out you were lying he’d never leave you alone and consider you pathetic to boot. Besides the nice buzz that was finally creeping down your spine told you everything would be fine. How could it not be?

Ten’s hands settled low on your hips and he gave you a little tug, pulling your back to his chest. You fit rather perfectly with him, his chin brushing the top of your head. Picking a rhythm in the song that thumped with bass, you began to move together. You rolled your ass against him and leaned your head back to rest on his shoulder, focusing on his breath as it ghosted across your neck. A silver of light wouldn’t have been able to get between you.

Normally you wouldn’t have dared to do something like this with a near stranger but your desire to make your ex suffer was bigger than your nerves. Besides Ten appeared to be all in on the ruse; his body twisting and curving in sync with yours, fingers on his right hand sliding up between your breasts to wrap lightly on your throat. His teeth nipped at your earlobe and you gasped. Reached around to his side to clasp his shirt for an anchor. You heard him chuckle and suddenly you were spun away from him only to be reeled back in, this time face to face.

The room felt like it was two hundred degrees. You weren’t exactly wearing much—a slinky black dress with tiny ties at the hem—but even that seemed too much. Without missing a beat though you and Ten continued to grind with one another, his thigh just barely pushed between your own. Every time you swayed forward to meet him the denim of his jeans rubbed deliciously against you, sending sparks sprinting through your veins. Both of his hands were on your ass as if helping to guide you, and as you met his gaze you couldn’t help but bite your lip at what you saw there. Desire, lust, hunger—no one had ever looked at you like that before. Like they could just devour you and still not have enough of you.

It made you feel powerful.

You grinned and wrapped an arm around his neck, fingers giving his hair a little tug. He hissed and lowered his head so that he could mouth at your bare shoulder, hands squeezing your ass so hard it nearly hurt. You weren’t sure when you started to get wet—maybe it was the moment you sat on his lap or he decided to play along with your dumb stunt—but you could tell it now. Your panties were sticking to you, your skin was on fire and it was becoming difficult to think straight. Honestly however you didn’t want to think at all, especially not if it meant not being in Ten’s orbit.

“Ten,” you whispered into the skin under his jaw.

He hummed, the sound vibrating through your body. You plastered your hand to his chest and pulled it down, nails catching on the thin material of his shirt until they were brushing along the zipper on his jeans. You gave him a quick squeeze—he was hard and straining—and he cursed loudly. Between one second and the next he was dragging you down a dimly light hallway, past kissing couples and one guy passed out drunk in the doorway of someone’s room. He swung you both into the first vacant room he came to; a lavish bathroom at the very back of the house. The door was closed with a swift thump and the lock clicked shut.

You licked your lips as he crowded you back into the counter, looking down at you with a tiny smirk. That part of your brain that yammered on about bad decisions was surprisingly quiet, so you figured it was beyond okay to pull him down for a kiss. As with most of the stuff he did, Ten was a damn good kisser. His mouth was soft and warm, his tongue playful and coaxing. He kissed you like he’d been waiting to kiss you for a long time. Until it grew deep and sensual. Until you were both panting with the need for air but neither wanting to let go of the moment.

With a gasp you tilted backwards a bit, your knees suddenly weak. “Fuck me,” you said absently.

“Can I?” Ten asked, chest heaving. “Can I fuck you?”

“God yes,” you replied, already pulling your dress up until it hitched around your waist.

Ten hooked his thumbs onto the band of your pink panties and slid them down your legs, laying them next to the sink. He looked you over with that same eye he used for his art but you could tell he liked what he saw. You grabbed his hand and brought it between your legs, spreading them wider for him. Two of his fingers slipped inside of you without any resistance to find you damp and aching, already so hot for him. He started a lazy rhythm—in and out, in and out—like he was in no hurry at all. Like he wasn’t driving you crazy all the way down to the tips of your toes.

He kept his eyes locked onto yours as he touched you, lips slightly parted like he couldn’t believe this was happening. That rang true for both of you. Never in your wildest dreams did you think you’d ever really be friends with Ten, let alone about to hook up with him. It was like you’d stumbled into some alternate universe.

Bringing his free hand up to your cheek, he smoothed his thumb across your lips, pressing lightly until you let him in. You sucked his thumb into your mouth and gave it a little nip, smiling when he smirked. When he deemed it wet enough, he pressed it to your clit and you moaned, your hips stuttering upward with a will of their own. He began a firm massage, working your clit this way and that, fingers still thrusting in their maddening motion. Of course he’d be great with his hands. Of course he’d be able to play your body like a finely tuned instrument.

Pressure started to build low in your stomach. “I—I’m…”

“Turn around.” Ten took a step back and made a show of sucking his fingers into his mouth, tongue darting out to lick between them like he wanted to savor every drop.

You whimpered but did as he requested, your eyes finding his in the wide silver mirror. You watched as he unzipped his pants and pushed them along with his dark colored briefs down to the floor. You hadn’t seen him pull out a condom but he had one; ripping open the packaging with his perfectly straight teeth before rolling it onto his hard cock. It was a delicious looking thing you had to admit, long and thick with a slight curve. If you’d had the time you would have gladly went to your knees for him.

A low breath shuddered out of Ten’s lungs as he pushed inside of you, his hands gripping your waist so strongly you were bound to have a few bruises later. “Fuck, you’re tight.”

It had been a while since Adam and nobody after him until now.

When he assumed you’d adjusted to the size of him, he pulled nearly out before driving back inside of you. You moaned and pushed back to meet his thrusts, feeling the pleasure shattering through you. Your breasts bounced as he moved and he reached a hand forward, tugging down the top of your dress so that he could cup one. He rolled your nipple between his fingers and pinched, bending over you so that he could bite down onto the tender skin of your shoulder. The motion sent him even deeper and you both groaned at the feeling.

“Te—Ten,” you stammered, losing your train of thought when he rolled his hips liked he did on the dance floor. “Oh fuck! Fuck!”

The picture you made in the mirror was a very erotic one; you could see every single expression on Ten’s handsome face. The utter enjoyment he was obviously finding in fucking you was written all over it; there was nowhere for it to hide. His head was tipped back, eyes fluttering closed only to pop back open so that he could watch himself shove into you over and over again. He had you up on your tip toes, nose just an inch from the mirror itself. He was always sexy but tonight that word took on a whole new meaning.

All you could do was try to give as good as you got.

You slapped a hand onto the sink to steady yourself and clenched around him, reveling in the low whine that escaped his throat. It kinda sounded like your name.

And then he was pulling all the way out, dick bouncing as he stumbled backwards. You blinked in confusion. “Wh--what’s wrong?”

Ten ran his fingers through his hair. “C’mon. I want you to ride me.”

He sat down on the closed toilet seat lid and you straddled him without a second thought, sinking down onto his dick with a full body shudder. With your dress around your waist and your breasts jiggling in his face as you bounced up and down on his cock, he traced his tongue around your nipple before lightly biting down. You tangled your fingers in his hair and panted out his name, letting out a squeak when his palm connected with your ass for a hard slap. Planting his feet on the floor, he leaned you backwards a bit as he drove into you repeatedly, eyes watching how well your pussy took him.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured against your collarbone. “Gorgeous—you feel so good.” He bit you again, this time on the side of your neck. “So good.”

With one hand on his shoulder to brace yourself, you rose up and let yourself come down hard over and over again, feeling him pound so deep it was almost criminal. Had the music not been so loud you knew exactly what you would have heard; the sound of skin hitting skin as Ten fucked you like he owned you. Just for tonight, maybe he did.

You weren’t sure how long it went on but when you came it still managed to take you by surprise. Your body lit up like a Christmas tree from the inside out and you cried out Ten’s name, clenching around him, your nails digging into his shoulder blades. He muttered a drawn out fuuuuck and pinched your clit with this thumb and forefinger, making you jerk so hard you nearly tumbled off his lap.

“Ah! Ten!” You shouted as he kept it up. “I—no—oh god—”

Your pussy tightened around him again and he shivered, thrusts growing erratic as he came with a grunt. You trembled through a second orgasm almost in disbelief—usually the only thing that could get you off twice in a row was hidden under your bed in a shoe box.

Seconds later you flopped against him, attempting to catch your breath. He was still rolling his hips just a tiny bit, making all the too sensitive areas ping.

“Whoa,” he said breathlessly, wrapping both arms around your waist. “That was…”

You chuckled softly. “Yeah…” Chancing a look at him, you admired the way strands of his dark hair stuck to his sweaty forehead. He was glistening, shirt sticking to his chest. He smelled like hints of your perfume and you smelled like hints of his cologne. It was all so intimate.

Reluctantly you sat back and gazed at him, wondering if things were about to get awkward. But Ten just smiled and ducked his head a little, a barely there blush creeping up into his already flushed cheeks. It was so adorable you couldn’t have resisted kissing him if you tried. From the way he melted into you, he’d had the same idea.

After a few minutes of just enjoying the feel of his lips against yours, you forced yourself up off of him. Your legs shook; you had to grab the counter to keep from tripping in your heels. You could already tell you’d still feel him tomorrow and the thought made you kinda dizzy, but in a good way. Blinking at your reflection—your hair was a dark mess—you knew there was no way you’d be able to hide the love bites that adorned your skin. They stood out stark red and purple like a bruise.

Ten remained slouched on the toilet for a couple of moments before removing the condom and tossing it into the trash. He dabbed at his dick with a handful of toilet paper, and then pulled up his underwear and jeans. “So…can I ask you something?”

You fixed your dress. “Sure.”

“Who was that guy?” he inquired with a grin. “The one you obviously wanted to get away from.”

Oh shit you’d forgotten all about Adam! “Oh he—he’s my dumb ex. He jumped stupid at me and I—I wanted to show him that he’s an idiot. That I’m totally over him. I—I’m sorry for getting you involved.”

He laughed as he patted down his hair. “No complaints from my end. I think he got the message though.” Reaching behind you he handed you your panties. “Don’t wanna forget these.”

It was ridiculous to be embarrassed considering what you’d both just done, but you couldn’t help it. You took them from him and pulled them on, keeping your eyes on the ground. “Thanks… Look Ten—”

“I’m hungry,” he said interrupting you. “Have you ever had grilled dried pollack?”

“Um yeah once I think,” you replied uncertainly. “It was pretty tasty.”

Ten motioned behind him. “I know a place that makes it if you wanted to go. And…maybe afterwards we could just hang out. Talk.”

That sounded amazing. “I’d love to. But…”

He picked up on your meaning. “Y/N I sit next to you in all of our art classes. I make conversation with you for no reason. Do you really think I of all people forget my brushes? Honestly I’ve wanted to ask you out for a while but you’ve always seemed…disinterested.”

You were dumbstruck by his admission. “Me?! That’s just my face! You’re the unattainable ingénue or whatever!”

Ten chuckled, folding his arms across his chest. “Oh please the only thing standing between me and being a serious cat dad is having an apartment that allows animals. However, this conversation is pointless. You owe me and I’m collecting…if that’s okay?”

You huffed but couldn’t stop grinning. “It’s perfect.”

The walk from the bathroom to the living room had everyone staring with a few people letting out loud whistles. Adam had disappeared but Amy was there to give you a big thumbs up. You promised to call her later and then let Ten pull you outside into the warm night air, your fingers happily entwined with his.

#wayv ten #ten imagines #wayv smut #ten scenarios #ten x reader #ten smut #nct scenarios #ten oneshot #wayv imagines #woc reader #wayv ten imagines #ten lee #wayv au #nct au

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woozisnoots · 3 years

Text

svt in college! | alex edition

° pairing: ot13 x reader ° genre: fluff(?), what my stream of consciousness finds funny, college!au ° word count: 1034 ° warning: slightttt violence ° a/n: i know i have requests to write >< but i really needed to write smth fun :( act as a shot of of serotonin into my veins ahahaha [insert fratboy emoji] disclaimer tho - this was ENTIRELY SELF INDULGENT and very very catered to me which is why vernon’s is unnecessarily long SO IM SORRY !!! i still hope you guys think its fun :D

° masterlist!

seungcheol: a business major, minoring in international relations. has the slightest crush on you but suppresses it pretty well without you realizing because he knows you like someone else. he likes to take you on what he calls bestie dates to a nearby arcade or places to eat when you’re stressed.

jeonghan: a psych major, minoring in communications, whom you oddly spend a lot of time with because he asks for homework help every other day when you’ve only taken 1-2 psych classes in your entire life :P but he’s a good listener and subs in as therapist on the weekdays so you let him stick around.

joshua: an english major. doesn’t know why and slightly regrets it but if it means he can keep the tinie bookshelf he has in his doom to make it look like he’s smart, then that’s motivation to keep him going. you tolerate him because you guys randomly go on trips at 2am and buys you food :D

jun: a childhood education major. the friend of a friend of a friend of someone’s cousin that happen to be your friend and so you see him at parties sometimes :) actually really fun to be around when you’re not too much into the party scene and play hopscotch or bean bag toss outside the persons’ backyard.

soonyoung: the loud dance team captain that won’t give you 5 minutes of quiet time waiting for your chem professor to open the door to the lab room because he has his speakers on at max volume dancing to kelly clarkson,,,, he’s pretty chill otherwise, he’s in my math class. claims hes the eye of the tiger when he comes to class in leopard print

wonwoo: premed that’s somehow taking enough classes to graduate with a literature minor. he and cheol talk a lot because they’re in the same broadcasting club or something of the sort. you guys acknowledge each other’s presence and share a moment of tea together sometimes with cheol.

jihoon: double majoring in music composition and theory. says he absolutely hates it because he thinks the work he does is completely pointless. but then goes on to write you like 27484737 love songs within a week for a single assignment. denies to other people that you’re his best friend and that he hates your guts but you’re the only one allowed in his private studio on school days and can fiddle with his equipment sometimes :3

minghao: an art major minoring in history. eventually wants to be a gallery director so he can hold his own. you make him drag you everyone for his work when you’re bored or have free time bc he takes pictures for the school newspaper/website. you guys strike a negotiation that you drive and he buys snacks.

mingyu: you only know him for playing in your uni’s (american) football team. his tall ass is like linebacker or some shit you don’t even know his major. you had to take a kickboxing class for PE credit and you swept him to the ground and put him a choke hold. you never let him live that down everrr. you also steal his lunch money from his bag when he’s at practice.

seokmin: a musical theatre major, minoring in music composition. you guys met through jihoon. you were absolutely FLOORED when you heard him sing as the lead for the school’s spring musical. it is now tradition that you guys get crepes after every show and make jihoon pay B) he hangs out with you and jihoon a lot and randomly make music together. and ahahaha people think jihoon and seokmin are fighting over you!! >:( that’s absolutely preposterous, seokmin is too good of a soul (you say this as you help him kneed dough for the pizza you guys are making together)

seungkwan: an education major, minoring in music because he wants to teach music to little kiddos ^-^ THE BESTEST OF THE BESTIES!!! like if you’re not hanging out with jihoon/seokmin or cheol, you crash at seungkwan’s apartment and raids his kitchen when you run out of groceries ;D he keeps making fun of you for your car until you remind him that he can’t drive. on the weekends, you guys love to bake muffin, cookie, or cake recipes to prep for the daycare on mondays :3

vernon: okay actually, he doesn’t go to college SHDJSJSHS you met him on the side of the road once when you decided to walk instead of using your car (silly you!) and you saw vernon doing some cool graffiti art (IT WASN’T VANDALISM!!!). which was a total coincidence because at that point, you were ready to take a bus and wait right at the bus stop where he set up. since it was a long wait, you guys talked and he kept you company. you learn that this is actually a big project he’s been working on and is finally getting paid big bucks for something he really likes doing. you learn that he’s a great conversationalist and you miss the bus first bus ride home and have to wait another hour or so whoops! this becomes more and more of a daily thing, slowly getting to know each other. fast forward months later and it’s your birthday :D and you don’t expect anything at all because how would he know, you don’t really like your birthday anyways UNTIL vernon surprises you with a spray paint drawing of your favorite animal! and then asks you out on a date and you guys fall deeply in love

chan: a linguistics major. yeah, he doesn’t know why either, he’s just rolling with it. says he’s liking it so far, but no one really knows if he’s lying or not, including yourself. you drag chan to college events like club fairs and rallies because you’re too embarrassed to go alone and no one else wants to go LOL he begs you to drive him places during your three day weekends because he always wants to go off campus and do stuff with you and the guy pals, but he doesn’t like the freeway :/ its fine though because he pays for gas.

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joezworld · 3 years

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📂

What in the HECK happened with Scotsman, Dominion, and Dwight during the Great Gathering?!

(Also, since Dutchess of Hamilton has also been to the US during the 1939 NY World’s Fair, did she get involved?)

Warning - extremely long post below

So, first of all, Duchess of Hamilton never went back to the UK.

Duchess of Hamilton (6229) and Coronation (6220) had their nameplates swapped by the LMS when an engine was sent over to the US. 6229, in the guise of 6220, went to the US.

Streamlined locomotives were all the rage at the time, and railroads practically fell over themselves to get Coronation (as she was now known) onto press trains. The B&O railroad in particular was so impressed with her capabilities that they extended a formal offer of employment to her for service on their streamlined Royal Blue service. The LMS were surprised to get an offer to "purchase" their locomotive, but accepted nonetheless, as it meant a welcome infusion of cash in the dark days during the beginning of WWII.

Coronation fit right in with the Americans, having only been about a year old when she was sent to New York. Following the end of steam traction on the Royal Blue in the late 40s, (the B&O were early adopters of diesels.) she and her B&O coworkers found good employment on the New York Central, where she still runs to this day.

Since then, she's fully "gone native", marrying a J3 Hudson, (yes one of the streamlined ones) adopting both an American accent and three children, and being fully repainted to NYC silver by 1956. Flying Scotsman met her in Albany in 1970, and neither one of them recognized the other.

Actually, most UK expats don't recognize her, to the point where a common interaction is for her to be held up as an example of "look at her, she's integrated well into the US", only for the British engines to say "that's preposterous, she isn't English".

When it's pointed out that she's still obviously an LMS Coronation, the next response is usually screaming.

All that being said, she has no interest to come back to the United Kingdom, and wasn’t asked by the NRM anyways.

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

Second of all, the Great Gathering was... an event.

So, there are (officially) 6 preserved Gresley A4s.

Mallard - static, National Railway Museum (UK). Also an asshole.

Bittern - running, private owner, UK based

Sir Nigel Gresley - running, owned by a trust, UK based

Union of South Africa - running, private owner, UK based

Dwight D. Eisenhower - static (officially), National Railway Museum (USA)

Dominion of Canada - static (officially), Exporail (Montréal)

This is the official list, and for the first 4 engines, it's the truth.

However, things are a bit hazier on the other side of the Atlantic...

-----

So the thing that needs to be made clear right up front that in a sentient vehicle world, museums aren't like the NRM, where locomotives sit static for years on end, although obviously the English have museums like that because of course they do.

Rail museums in the rest of the world are much more like Colonial Williamsburg - a living history center staffed by volunteers who act out a prototypical setting from [insert decade here].

British Rail, being British Rail, didn’t know that and didn’t care.

4496, Dwight D. Eisenhower, having been named after the General-turned-President, had been earmarked for preservation by BR, and was summarily shipped off to the US National Railway Museum in Green Bay, Wisconsin.

In an entirely unintentional move, this donation MONUMENTALLY snubbed the Smithsonian, who refused to have any dealings with BR for decades, even for archival purposes. This, combined with the fallout from Operation Smash Hit, and the fact that the Smithsonian is Petty AF, meant that there was virtually no official trans-Atlantic cooperation between British and US museums for decades.

Dwight hit the shores of the US in 1964 New York City and was greeted by a marching band, a ticker-tape parade, and Presidents Johnson and Eisenhower, who were on-hand to personally make the engine a US citizen.

Always keen to curry favor with the government, the Southern Pacific railroad had a job offer waiting for Dwight right alongside the Presidents and the parade, and when he accepted, he went off to Sunny Southern California - someplace so opposed to Britain the he fell in love with the place immediately and refused to leave!

The ladies may have also had something to do with it as well - while most engine classes fell into a typical 50-50 gender distribution, the SP GS-4 class was all female...

[Pictured above - one of 28 very good reasons to live in California if you're a single British steam engine.]

Dwight does not kiss and tell, but at his wedding in 1974, all 28 GS-4s showed up - and he was only marrying one of them!

Since the 70's, he's become a mainstay in California, having been repainted into Daylight Limited colors in 1969, and retiring from railroad duties in 1999. After that, he went into the movie business, and is currently the head of digital media development at Disney.

His wife Irene (SP 4437) is also an interesting figure as well - following in the wheelmarks of the great female locomotives before her, she had an eye for business and a Stanford education before she married her husband, and was an initial investor in multiple tech companies in Silicon Valley during the 70's and 80's, but stopped doing that after her investment in Apple proved very lucrative. In 1996, she was convinced by a few people in the Stanford Alumni association to invest in another tech startup, this one an "internet search engine" called Google.

So yeah, Dwight Eisenhower kept falling up and up and up all his life, and is now married to the richest woman in the world.

4489 Dominion of Canada was donated mostly by accident, having been forgotten in the back of Darlington sheds until 1966, when she was shipped off to the Canadian Railway Historical Society in Montreal.

As stated elsewhere, the Canadian Government considered any locomotive built in the UK to have UK citizenship, and therefore treated them as commonwealth citizens under existing Canadian law. (remember that Canada was still a colony at that time)

CN, the national rail carrier, was obligated to offer her a job under their charter, and she accepted, moving to Toronto to run intercity trains between Toronto, Montreal, and Ottawa.

Within two years she was displaced from those duties by the introduction of a new, shiny, jet turbine powered train, and was summarily demoted to local commuter runs in the Toronto suburbs.

Moving to suburbia did one thing more than anything else - expose her to the people who live there. They all had complaints, they all had problems, and they all had no idea on how to fix them.

Being a helpful sort, Dominion decided that she could help, and promptly ran for Toronto city council in 1974. She won, and has been a fixture in local Toronto politics ever since - she even got to be Chairwoman of Metro Toronto (the closest thing to being mayor because Toronto's governmental structure is weird) until 1998, when Toronto was merged with the surrounding area to create a massive new region.

Having then done everything there is to do in municipal Toronto government, Dominion went on to become the Chief Executive Officer of Metrolinx, the agency that controls almost all of the transit agencies in Ontario, because, as she puts it, "I'm still a commuter engine at heart".

She's now painted in the current GO Transit paint scheme, and still does commuter runs- which is really weird looking now that there are double deck commuter coaches in a push-pull configuration, with a Gresley A4 doing the pushing.

------

Now, I mentioned that those 6 were the only ones officially preserved - there were two unofficial preservations as well...

4486 Merlin was properly Shanghied - he was yanked off the docks in Southhampton by a cargo ship in August of 1965, and was spirited away to parts unknown.

Those unknown parts turned out to be South Korea. There, he was given citizenship by the US-aligned military dictatorship (Korean history is wild) and was employed by the State-run rail operator.

As the military government began a hardcore plan to increase their country's wealth and industrial output, rail lines were being built across the country, and Merlin was soon awarded a position on the fastest train in the network, the Seoul-Busan Saemaeul-ho.

Because of his experience in running high-speed express trains, Merlin not only became the public face of Korean high-speed rail, but also became an "honored elder" amongst the other Korean engines, a position he still holds to this day - as despite being over 70 years old, he still runs daily trains on the fast services, easily keeping time with the Korean schedules as well as training the new high speed trains, including the KTX sets. He's on his 24th boiler by now, and has more parts from Hyundai than Doncaster.

An additional fact - Merlin actually has had a linguistic effect on Korean railroading, as his strange amalgamation of an accent - a strong Yorkshire accent that tried to be Received Pronunciation for 30 years, mixed with almost 50 years of middle-to-upper-class Korean - has filtered down through the ranks of KoRail, because all of his students want to sound like him out of respect. Human British expats in Korea will occasionally hear a locomotive speaking in English, and the engine will sound like a Yorkshireman every time and the Brits cannot handle it.

---------

4495 Golden Fleece is the only A4 to preserve himself - he saw the writing on the wall in the early 60s, and hopped a car ferry to France at the end of 1962. From there, he bounced around Europe for a bit before making it to the United States in the late 70's.

Of the 8 surviving A4s, he's probably led the quietest life of all - he moved to Miami before it got nice, and basically got in on the ground floor of CSX when that merger happened in 1980. He's now the head of terminal operations for the Port of Miami, but he's generally kept a low profile - not even having a chance to meet Scotsman due to his time in Europe.

He's still in contact with Dwight and Dominion, and has no real bitterness over not being "famous" like they are - he likes the quiet, and still lives in a modest house in Boynton Beach with his long-term girlfriend.

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

Soooo... the Great Gathering.

It was supposed to be a meeting of the 6 surviving A4s - a two year event held at the NRM in honor of the 75th anniversary of Mallard's record-setting run.

"Record setting" is a past-tense term here. While there have been no official runs, every single one of the Pennsylvania Railroad's T1 and S1 locomotives claim to have gone faster than 126 without meaning to, and numerous other locomotives on unofficial attempts done late at night on flat stretches of land across the country have hit 130+.

British Expats have also done better than 126 - Coronation claims to have hit at least 140 on a midnight mail train in 1980, and in Korea, Merlin claims to have hit 128 on a test train, although that was judged by timing mile markers as his speedometer wasn't functioning properly.

Problems arose before any of the engines had even reached the NRM, as Mallard's already sizeable ego had swelled to massive proportions, and several engines in the great hall were planning a justifiable homicide.

Then came the time restraints - none of the foreign locomotives were willing to uproot their lives and jobs for two years just to sit motionless in a shed. A two year exhibition was eventually negotiated down to a 6 month gala, much to the irritation and confusion of the NRM, who could not understand that the engines were still in service.

Then came the extra engines - Dwight and Dominion thought that the NRM knew about Fleece, and were quite insulted on his behalf when he wasn't invited - they threatened to not attend unless arrangements were made for Fleece to attend as well.

An utterly baffled NRM agreed, but also tore their record archives apart, as they knew that Fleece had been scrapped. The fact that his picture was plastered all over CSX's Florida Division website was all the more confusing as a result.

Meanwhile in Busan, nobody knew that Merlin had escaped the scrappers' torch and therefore did not invite him. He was only informed after K-Pop star Psy texted him from London to ask if he knew about the event, which was being advertised on television.

Merlin, having missed his friends from the LNER, decided that he would just crash the party, used some of his many vacation days, and took off for England on a cargo ship.

By sheer coincidence, all four foreign A4s hit the dock in Southhampton on the same day, and were delighted to see each other - especially Merlin, considering that everyone else had thought he'd died.

Meanwhile at the NRM, delight was not the word one would use. Befuddled, confused, shocked even, but not delighted. Their plans had revolved around 6 A4s, most of which wouldn’t be running - only to now discover that there were 7, all but one of which were functioning! (Mallard, the star of the show, was the odd one out, and it drove him crazy)

Then they got a phone call from their man at the docks saying that another one had showed up, looking like he’d driven out of a K-pop album cover, and they just gave up and started screaming.

Screaming is also what happened when the cavalcade of foreigners showed up in York - first of all, the quartet of new engines sounded nothing like they had when they left England.

Dwight had willfully unlearned his Upper Crust British accent by 1971, and had fallen deep into a California accent (quite similar to what Scotsman sounds like - coincidence? No.)

Dominion and Fleece hadn’t tried to unlearn their accents, but 40+ years of living in North America can really dilute the Britishness. It doesn’t help that Dominion has developed most Canadian vocal tics eh?

As stated above, Merlin has a weird fuckin accent, and now he speaks English with a strong Yorkshire accent, but will occasionally and without warning drop into a Korean/Yorkshire hybrid accent.

The screaming also happened because the NRM had wanted to repaint the duo trio! quartet?! into LNER garter blue, and were promptly informed that “we’re painted like this for work! Don’t touch it!” (the sole exception was Dwight, who hadn’t pulled a real train in 14 years, but he liked his Daylight Limited paint), so instead of the new arrivals showing up in LNER colours, they showed up looking like THIS:

Having their long-lost siblings show up looking and sounding like THAT had quite an affect on the A4s and the other NRM engines:

Bittern could not believe her eyes - to the point where she actually began making noise about seeing an optometrist

Union of South Africa almost backed through a wall

Sir Nigel Gresley was speechless for two days

Mallard was so angry that he actually chipped a tooth during one of his rants about “the impropriety of it all!!”

Evening Star laughed so hard that he managed to derail himself without moving

City of Truro almost cracked a piston from shock

Alycidon spent the entire gala coming up with more and more laser focused jabs at Mallard - who was so easy to fluster that the Deltic needn’t have bothered

Oliver Cromwell and Green Arrow made fast friends with the new arrivals, and spent the entire time learning ‘Americanisms’ to annoy the other engines with.

But what about Flying Scotsman? Where was he in all of this? He was generally considered to be the “leader” of the NRM fleet (much to Mallard’s annoyance), and was usually who the other engines turned to when things started getting out of control.

Did Scotsman calm things down? Like hell he did. The inmates were running the asylum from the moment that Scotsman saw the other A4s - more importantly saw Dwight - and immediately greeted them in flawless Californian.

This actually set off the building’s security alarm, as Flying Scotsman saying “DUDES! Wassup?!” caused such an uproar that the noise broke several exterior windows.

----

And all of this was in the first few days - there were six months left to go.

There was one railtour attempt. It was supposed to feature Bittern and Sir Nigel running in tandem, but instead featured Dwight and Merlin, mainly because Bittern wanted to see what would happen.

They exceeded the max speed limit for steam traction within 15 minutes, sparked a thorough investigation by the RAIB, and got all future steam powered railtours for the Gathering cancelled immediately.

On the plus side, the two engines did prove that it was still possible for a steam train to hit 100 safely.

One thing that baffled the other engines was the inordinately large number of people who turned up just to see Dominion, and the one person who kept turning up to see Fleece - it took a lot of explaining for them to understand that Dominion had been married three times, and had children (adopted) and grandchildren from all three marriages coming to see her. A similar amount of explaining was required to explain that Fleece’s girlfriend/partner wanted to see him too.

The normally chatty Dwight and Scotsman would suddenly clam up whenever Dominion and Fleece teasingly tried to ask about their love lives, something which wasn’t unnoticed by the other engines, but got similarly nowhere.

The answer to why they both shut the hell up was explained when a lot of shouting broke out in the yard of the NRM one day about a month into the exhibition:

Irene Eisenhower, not content to sit in California and count her billions, quickly grew bored without her husband, and decided to go to England and be with him. The fact that she definitely did not fit the UK loading gauge was never even a consideration, and so she just showed up in York on the back of a lorry, having informed no-one of her arrival, and content to just pay off the requisite people if a fuss occurred.

A fuss did occur, and it was only ended when Scotsman managed to convince the museum’s curator (who at this point in his life was regretting ever thinking of this damned gathering) that Irene was a ‘temporary donation’ to the museum.

[Scotsman, who definitely hid his Cali accent from museum staff the entire time, has one of the best poker faces in the world]

Dwight was overjoyed, and so was Scotsman, for initially unclear reasons. Then Irene managed to grab both her husband and Scotsman, dragged them behind a shed, and [THIS IS A PG13 HEADCANON] the both of [PG13]. Turns out that while Scotsman may have slept his way across the US a few times, he was actually ready to settle down with Dwight and Irene - they were a throuple way back in the 70s, and those passions haven’t faded. When Scotsman reluctantly left the US in 74, a lot of the reluctance was because of those two.

This bombshell of a revelation went over interestingly at the NRM. Some engines (Green Arrow) were happy for them, some were incensed (Mallard - although it was for anti-American reasons, not homophobic ones), and some were intensely curious about what was going on in the outside world (Bittern).

The ‘foreigners’ (as Mallard had taken to calling them), were deeply displeased at how their fellow engines were being treated - while a lot of them were ‘in steam’, some were not and might never be again, something they found abhorrent. Unable to do anything at that time, as the NRM was not a for-profit entity and therefore did not have anyone to bribe, (Irene’s solution to things is to throw money at the situation) the engines started talking about how life was different in the outside world - namely that engines were still working hard, even when they were over a century old and running on steam power.

This was of great interest to engines like Evening Star and (6220) Duchess of Hamilton, neither of whom were likely to be steamed again, and Bittern, who was growing more and more curious with each passing day. Dissent began to slowly build against the NRM curators, and the culture of the United Kingdom in general.

One thing the foreigners did try do something about was Ellerman Lines. The poor bastard had been sectioned to show his inner workings, much to the jaw-dropped horror of the foreign A4s, who made such a stink about it that he was moved outside the museum by NRM staff, who must have thought that the engines lacked object permanence or something, because that didn’t make it better!

Irene Eisenhower, who was beginning to get really sick of the nonsense that the NRM called preservation, (Scotsman was not in running condition, and had been hastily reassembled mid-overhaul in order to be cosmetically ready for the event, and let’s not forget poor Ellerman Lines) elected to bring the event to a close on her own after only three months. She did this by eventually putting her immense wealth to good use, and called for a haulage service to rescue the engines from the NRM without the knowledge of the museum staff. Aside from the A4s, she also took Ellerman Lines, Scotsman, and Bittern (who had asked to go) with her, and only bothered to inform Ellerman and Bittern - she was not about risk Scotsman having another “think of England” moment and staying.

The haulage firm was efficient and the cargo ship was waiting, so the engines were in international waters before the NRM opened the next morning.

Much swearing occurred in England that day, and the NRM’s image has yet to fully recover from the PR story that they had sold Flying Scotsman (and Ellerman Lines) to a reclusive American billionaire.

Privately though, the NRM does not care, as that story is a lot better than “Someone stole our engines and we’re not allowed to get them back because as it turns out we’re slaveowners, so no international court will help us.”

Also, despite their multimillion dollar “donation" from the I. Eisenhower Opportunity Fund, they still haven’t been able to fully pacify their engines, all of whom have somehow gotten the idea that they should be running in main line service like they live on Sodor or something...

--------

Dwight, Scotsman, and Irene all live happily together in the sprawling Eisenhower estate in Malibu. Irene is currently lobbying the California state government to legalize polygamy, with moderate success.

Ellerman Lines, after a lot of therapy and a full rebuild, is now working on a short line in Wyoming. He likes the scenery.

Bittern followed Dwight, Irene, and Scotsman to Los Angeles, and used her ‘connections’ (Dwight) to get a supporting role in Avengers: Age of Ultron. Since then, she’s gotten several roles based on her own merits, including an Emmy nomination for Best Guest Appearance in a Comedy.

Merlin spent a few months in LA before he went back to Korea. He is very thankful that he was able to reconnect with his brothers and sisters, and that his homeland has good internet, as he video calls his family across the Pacific almost every day.

Golden Fleece still lives a quiet life in Florida, but finally decided to tie the knot, and married his girlfriend in 2017. The ceremony was supposed to be quiet, but Irene Eisenhower has no idea what that word means.

Dominion of Canada continues to baffle non-local trainspotters when she runs commuter trains into Toronto. She is now a great-grandmother.

7 years later, and the term “Great Gathering” is still a forbidden phrase in the back rooms of the NRM.

#ask response #long #really long #I wrote this for like me and two other people at most #national railway museum #flying scotsman #Headcanon #ttte #ttte adjacent #bittern #mallard #train headcanon #locomotive rights headcanon #extremely specific headcanon #headcanon

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stillbandofbrothersthirsty · 3 years

Text

Rock Bottom

Joe Liebgott x OC

*Rated T for language and adult themes. (5,471 words)

“Have you guys seen that new girl?” Frank Perconte asked as he squeezed into a small seat along the dining table bench.

“What new girl?” Bill Guarnere asked through a bite of food.

“The new intelligence girl,” Frank said as means of explanation.

“She’s an intelligence officer?” Joe Liebgott asked.

“I heard she was with the OSS before this,” Pat Christensen added.

“I don’t think intelligence officer,” Frank pushed the food around on his plate, “but apparently she speaks like 20 languages.”

“No,” Joe said doubtfully, “no way, that’s so many.”

“Who knows? Once you know one language it’s easier to pick up others,” David Webster said.

Joe shot him an annoyed look.

“I think she’s from the Bronx too, Web.”

“Well hey, there ya go! There’s so many languages going around in the Bronx, she probably picked them up there. It’s so much easier to learn languages when you’re young ya-“

“Where’d you get all this info?” Bill cut David off.

“Luz.” Frank was barely intelligible with his mouth full.

“Hm,” Bill grunted. The information was likely true coming from George Luz, the kid had a way of finding things out.

Their formal introduction to the newest G-2 recruit occurred the next day prior to starting their classroom instruction. The men hadn’t expected the classroom time. They knew the forecast had predicted rain but they didn’t dare to hope Sobel would let them off just because of “a little water”. However, by eleven, the early morning drizzle had grown into a downpour that even Sobel didn’t want to be caught in. He relinquished his company to the instruction of basic compass and map reading.

“Gentleman,” Sobel addressed them dryly, his hands folded behind his back, “before we get started, I would like to introduce you to the newest member of the intelligence general staff.”

The men were gathered in a large tent propped up by recently constructed whitewood. Beside Sobel stood a woman dressed neatly in an army issued pencil skirt, jacket and tie.

“This is Valerie Marchetti, she will be working with the intelligence office as a linguist.”

“Told ya she knew like 20 languages,” Frank whispered to Joe.

“Italian!” Bill nudged Johnny Martin.

“Please make every effort to make her feel welcome,” Sobel finished unenthusiastically, “Alright, let's get started. Radio men, follow Ms. Marchetti.”

“Lucky!” Floyd Talbert clapped George on the shoulder as he stood up. George winked at him with a grin.

“So, what’s she like?” Floyd asked as they headed back to the barracks.

“Aw she’s an angel,” George enthused, “so sweet, and she knows her stuff too!”

“You’d think anyone that pretty was an angel, Luz,” Frank said.

“That,” George said, “is because angels are beautiful.”

But George wasn’t the only one over the moon to have a woman among them. All of the Toccoa men were eager for any chance to ogle Valerie. They were oversexed and grateful to have a beautiful woman in their midst, if only for the hope of earning a smile. Most of the men were limited in their interactions with her seeing as she was part of the intelligence general staff but somehow Bill really got to know her, and by extension, Johnny Martin did too. They became a trio on nights out. Bill jumping from group to group, socializing with all the men while the more mellow Johnny posted up at a table with Valerie.

“Does she actually know 20 languages?” Shifty asked Bill innocently.

“Nah, not actually twenty, but she knows quite a few. She’s damn smart!” Bill said taking a long drink of his beer.

“What languages does she know?” Joe asked.

“Italian, her pa’s Italian. Polish ‘cuz of her ma. Yiddish and I think her German’s okay too,” Bill listed.

Joe nodded thoughtfully, “not bad,” he admitted. “Not gonna be any use to us if we go to Japan though.”

Bill shrugged, “who knows where we’re goin’, they got her here for a reason.”

“Was she posted somewhere else before this?” Moe Alley asked.

“She was a code breaker! Can you believe that? So smart,” Bill shook his head in awe.

“Ya sound like you’re in love there, Bill,” Joe teased.

“God damn right, I love that girl. She’s great!”

Joe chuckled, she was a good looking dame that was for sure. Just his type: curvaceous, dark hair and warm eyes. He admired her just as much as every other guy in the bar. There were plenty of local women around, some of who Joe had gotten to know quite well, but there was something about that army pencil skirt that just did it for Joe.

“She gotta fella?” Joe heard himself asking.

“Why? You interested Joe?” Bill asked.

Joe shrugged, “just curious.”

Bill looked over his shoulder where Valerie sat smiling, her full lips painted a rich red. “I don’t think so, but I’ll tell ya what Joe, she’s not any ol’ dame. She’s a spicy one that’s for sure. She’ll tell you what’s what.”

Yeah, Joe found that out for himself the first time he experienced classroom instruction with Valerie Marchetti.

“Well, actually we’d actually refer to this group as the Allgemeine SS,” Valerie said.

“Deutsche Ausrüstungswerke is German Equipment factories so I don’t-“ Joe defended.

“Well yes, but it’s important to know that this is an armaments division under the SS, Allgemeine SS.”  “Are you sure? You said yourself you aren’t fluent in German, are you sure you’re translating-“

“Yes. I don’t speak fluent German but I know these terms and I know the organization of the SS. You would do well to listen to me, I know what I’m talking about.” Valerie snapped.

“Okay, calm down,” Joe threw his hands up.

Valerie sniffed at his gaslighting before spinning on her heel and walking away. After that it was game over, nothing about her was attractive to Joe any longer; not her silky, dark curls, not her full red lips, not the way the dark lines on her hose travelled seductively up her leg. He decided she was more trouble than she was worth.

A cheer rose up from the dart boards that Friday night where Bill, Johnny, and Bull were playing darts with Valerie. She was wearing trousers that night, which Joe found rather flattering. But he caught himself as his gaze travelled down from her waist, and quickly looked away.

“Okay, if I make this last one, drinks are on me.” Valerie bit her lip in concentration.

“Well now I kinda want you to win,” Bill said jovially.

“Ah!” The men around her cheered again as the dart hit another bullseye.

“Damn, how do you do it?” asked Don Malarkey in awe.

Valeria smiled coyly and shrugged. “Who needs a drink?” she asked to the men gathered.

“Nah, you can’t possibly cover all the drinks here,” Bill held up his hand in protest, a cigarette burning between his fingers.

“Don’t worry about it Bill, I pretty much owe everyone in here a drink anyways after the way they all tripped over themselves to buy me a drink when I first got here.”

The men sung her praises all the way up to the bar where Valerie instructed the tender to pour everyone in proximity a beer and to put it on her tab. She had come up right where Joe had been standing with Moe. Valerie glanced down at his nearly empty glass, “you need a beer Joe?” she asked.

“No thanks, still workin’ on this one.” Joe held up his glass.

“James?” Valerie asked Moe. He nodded appreciatively and accepted the drink even though his original glass held more than Joes.

“You sure Joe?” Valerie asked in a sing song voice. It grated on Joe’s nerves.

“I’m good, thank you though Valerie.” His dark eyes met hers. The piercing darkness of them sent a shiver down her spine and she abruptly looked away, blushing.

Joe was walking back from the latrine later that night when he heard some voices out in the dark, in the direction of HQ. The tone of the two male voices that carried on the air made Joe stand to alert. The speakers weren’t too loud, but there was a forcefulness to them. Then the voice of an agitated female broke through. A coldness rushed into Joe blood. He rushed towards the noise. He came upon two F company men who were walking on either side of Valerie. They were walking fast, the pace clearly set by Valerie who sped forward. The men kept in step with with her all while trying to box her in between their bodies.

“Hey!” Joe snapped, stopping them in their course, “what the hell is going on here?”

Joe looked at Valerie, a chilling look in her eyes: fear.

The men hardly seemed bothered by Joe’s presence. “We’re just making sure this young lady gets back to her quarters safely,” one said.

“Are you?” Joe asked, “do you even know her?”

“Sure we do,” the other said arrogantly, “mind your business pal.”

“Val, you know these guys?” Joe asked. Even with adrenaline coursing through his body he winced internally at his use of her nickname. He wasn’t familiar with her like that, why did he call her Val in that moment?

“Don’t worry about it Joe, I can take care of myself,” she said firmly, “I’m just right here,” she turned towards the main HQ building where she was posted up with the other few females. The men made to follow her into the darkness. Although it was only yards away, there were too many spots of darkness for Joe to feel comfortable letting those men follow her all the way up to her doorstep. Joe stepped in front of them, giving Valerie the time and space to disappear into the fold of the night.

“What’s your problem man?” one of the men snarled.

“It’s late, you’re just gonna have to accept you struck out tonight,” Joe sneered back.

The other man, who was significantly larger than Joe, took a menacing step forward. “She your girl or something?” he asked with narrow eyes.

“She’s no ones girl,” Joe said, and he turned away to head back to his barracks.

“Hey, you should’ve stayed out of it, guy.” Then Joe felt a hand on his collar spin him around before a fist made contact with his eye.

“Do you know what guys from F company?” Edward Tipper asked as he took in the blue and blackness that was beginning to come out around Joe’s eye socket.

Joe shrugged into his breakfast, “whatever, I’m not worried about it.”

“Those bastards,” Moe said, “we oughta give them what they deserve.”

“I said I’m not worried about it,” Joe said, “will you drop it?” His friends reluctantly sat back.

It was then Joe noticed Valerie standing a few feet away, a breakfast tray clutched in her hands. She was staring mournfully at the injuries he incurred. As soon as his eyes met hers she quickly walked to the table where Johnny sat, taking a place beside him and disappearing behind the figures of the Easy Company men she loved. Not Joe, he was not part of that group.

“Joe,” Valerie came up behind him as he was bussing his tray. He turned around to face her. Bags hung under her eyes but her signature red lipstick was applied flawlessly.

“Yeah?” he asked impassively.

“Um, I..” she hesitated, taking in his appearance. His jacket was unbuttoned, revealing his PT shirt. His dog tags hung heavy around his lean neck. His cheek bones were sharp, the top of the left one was split just slightly below where the blueness had spread to fill his entire eye socket. Valerie winced looking at him.

“I just want to say I appreciate you checking in on me last night,” Valerie began.

“Don’t mention,” Joe flicked his hand dismissively and began to walk away.

“But you didn’t need to, I feel bad, you’re eye, I would’ve been fine-“

Joe looked at her like she was crazy, “Valerie I saw how you looked last night, you knew it wasn’t goin’ in a good direction.”

“I was almost back to my quarters, I would’ve been fine,” she insisted.

Joe let out a sharp laugh, “why were you alone anyway? Walking in the dark?”

“It’s none of your business,” Valerie said.

“Wow, this is a hell of a thank you, Val,” Joe winced. Damn it, why did he keep using that nickname?

Valerie wrinkled her own nose in discomfort, “well thank you, but next time I got myself.”

“Valerie I wasn’t going to just leave you there!”  “You don’t need to worry about me! I can take care of myself,” she doubled down.

“God damn it, would you get over yourself?” Joe snapped. Valerie reeled back in momentary shock.

“Get over myself?”

“Those guys were trouble! We both know it!”

“Get over myself? What do you mean? You don’t trust me-“

“I don’t even know you, I would’ve done the same for any girl-“  “So because I’m a girl you don’t trust me to take care of myself?”

“It was two against one.”  “I’m a soldier same as you and you were prepared to take them on-“

“Don’t be ignorant, it’s diff-“

“Ignorant? Who’s calling who ignorant?”

“See, you just think you’re so much better than every-“

“I have to be better than everyone! I have to work twice as hard as everyone here!”

“In your cozy little intelligence office? Yeah, sure, try doing the stuff we have to do.”

“I have to train too! I’m strong!”  “But not strong enough to-“

“I am strong enough!”

“Look what those bastards did to me, you don’t think they would’ve done the same to you?”

“Well, maybe not, because like you said I’m just a girl.”

“Yeah well let me tell you that’s exactly why they could’ve done worse.”

“Do you just assume the worst of your compatriots?”  “Do you not? How dumb are you? I thought you were from the city!”  “You know what, just stay out of it next time Liebgott. I don’t want you getting injured on my behalf.” Valerie stormed away angrily.

“You’re welcome!”Joe shouted after her defiantly. “God damn it,” he cursed under his breath. He kicked a trash bin nearly kicking it over, “fuck this.”

Joe was still heated later that night when he finally retired to the barracks.

“Tough day, Joe?” Bull asked. A cigar hung from his mouth as he unlaced his boots.

“Little bit,” Joe eased down on his bed. His face throbbed where he had been hit. Bull looked up at him thoughtfully, “everything alright now?” he asked cryptically.

“All good, Bull,” Joe lay back on his cot exhaling.

“Not all good,” John Martin was suddenly standing over him, “you were fighting with Valerie?”

“Not really, it’s fine,” Joe draped an arm over his eyes, trying to block out the little light that filled their canvas living quarters.

“It better be, I heard you two shouting at each other earlier. What’d you do to deserve that?”

Joe sat up, “I didn’t do anything!”

John crossed his arms and eyed Joe suspiciously, “well, if she’s after you you probably deserve it.” He stalked off and Joe fell back onto his bed.

“She’s a tough one that Valerie,” Bull said.

“So I’ve heard,” Joe muttered.

“No shit from nobody,” Bull continued.

“You gotta point, Bull?” Joe snapped glaring at the guy in the bunk next to him.

Bull chewed on his cigar, carefully considering what he was going to say next, “it was good of you to look out for her. You did the right thing, Joe.”

Joe hadn’t expected that. He nodded at Bull then rolled over in his bunk. He didn’t know how much Bull knew, or what exactly he had heard through the grapevine, but Bull’s words meant more than he thought the would. Finally a little acknowledgment for preventing the crime he had seen coming. No matter how tough she was, there’s no stopping that when two men decide they’re going to do it.

Joe slid his arm under his pillow, trying to get comfortable. That’s when his hand grazed something hard and rectangular. From underneath his pillow he pulled out a chocolate bar. Wrapped around it, fastened with twine, was a note. In neat cursive were the words: You were right. Thank you for your help.

Joe couldn’t help but smile a little bit. Who the fuck was this woman.

She was a goddamn rule following narc when she wanted to be, that’s who she was. Joe and Moe may or may not have snuck out of the base one Tuesday night and gotten pissed at a nearby bar. They were too drunk to be cautious when they stumbled back onto base, their arms around each other, singing.

Valerie was walking along the well lit path to the women’s latrine when she ran into them.

“What are you guys doing?” she hissed confronting them.

“Hello sweetheart,” Moe slurred with a grin.

“Valerie!” Joe said enthusiastically, “wow thank you for the Hershey bar.”

Valerie flushed bright red, “you guys are being so loud! You’re going to get in trouble.” She looked them up and down, “how drunk are you?”  “Not drunk at all,” Moe shook his head.

Valerie wrinkled her nose, “sure smells like you are.”

“That’s rude Valerie,” Joe said jokingly.

“Yeah well you guys are going to get all of Easy in trouble tomorrow if you show up hungover.”

“We’ll be fine!” Moe waved his hand, “don’t worry about us, doll.”

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Valerie said sharply, “its the rest of the company you’re screwin’ over. Goodnight!” she walked off shaking her head.

“What a bitch,” Moe said off-handedly.

“She’s not a bitch,” Joe immediately snapped.

Moe swayed in place, grinning stupidly at his friend. “Whoa there, you’re not in love with her now too are you?”

Joe rolled his eyes and the men stumbled back to their barracks, now a little quieter.

He would never admit it after the way Valerie had confronted them, but waking up the next day was rough. Joe was determined to keep it together just to spite Valerie. He had muscled through the morning and was hoping for a moment of respite at lunch. But to his great misfortune, tuna casserole was being served. Joe’s stomach churned as he looked down into his plate. He was hungry but he was sure that the final remains of alcohol digesting inside of him would not be happy to share his stomach with this meal.

As he contemplated whether to eat or not, Joe felt eyes on him. He looked up to see Valerie’s sympathetic face from across the mess hall. She smiled at him tenderly at him and he immediately felt pathetic in her eyes. A irrational sense of anger flared up in him and he stabbed at the casserole with his fork. He brought a first big bite into his mouth all while maintaining eye contact with Valerie. The sympathetic smile dropped from her face as she watched his performance. She narrowed her eyes, her lip curling in disgust at his juvenile defiance.

After the meal ended she came up to him, her tray as empty as his was.

“Feeling alright, Joe?” she asked as sweet as syrup.

Perspiration was beginning to form on his forehead. He was not feeling alright, in fact he felt rather clammy. Moe had done the wise thing and only eaten his buttered bread. Joe was seriously regretting not doing the same.

“Feelin’ great, how’re you feeling, Valerie?” he asked obstinately.

“I’m feeling great too,” she said smugly, because she was, and he clearly was not even if he wasn’t admitting it. “Enjoy the rest of the day!” She sashayed off.

Luckily, the mess hall was mostly empty because as soon as she was out of sight, Joe dived for a nearby trashcan and regurgitated the lunch he had just consumed.

“Better out than in,” Moe said as means of comfort, looking equally washed up.

By the end of the week Joe was ready to go out again. Just as it happens to all young men, the short term memory of how he felt after a night of binge drinking had left him by that Saturday night. Having secured and successfully retained their weekend passes, Joe and his friends bought tickets to the dance that Saturday evening.

The majority of Easy Company had the same idea and they, along with the other companies of the 101st airborne, filled the local dance hall. Joe was having a pretty good time. Beer was flowing, the band was hopping, and there was an endless supply of beautiful women to dance with. Joe was taking a break from the dance floor when he spotted Valerie spinning across the room in the arms of a dark haired gentleman from another company.

“Look at her,” Edward said appreciatively from next to Joe.

“Who?” Joe asked, pretending not to know who his friend was referring to.

“I know you don’t like her much, but Valerie, she is a looker,” Edward whistled.

Joe scowled but allowed himself a moment to check Valerie out. She wore a slightly-outdated red belted dress. Little white flowers peppered the fabric from the hem to the shoulders where the cinched neckline generously revealed her delicate collarbones.

Joe cleared his throat, “yeah, but there’s lots of good lookin’ broads around tonight.”

Edward just shrugged and downed the rest of his beer before setting out for the dance floor again. Joe did his best to avoid Valerie. He distracted himself with drinks, jokes, and other beautiful women. Despite his best efforts Joe still found himself looking across the low lit dance floor directly into Valerie’s eyes when a version of Mood Indigo came on.

It wasn’t Valerie in his arms, it was another woman. A woman he hadn’t known long enough to truly enjoy the moody slow dance with. Valerie was in the arms of the same guy she’d been with all night and she did look like she was enjoying the dance. Joe realized she was enjoying it a lot more than he wanted her to be.

The glance they had shared had been brief, she had broken it off quickly to nestle her cheek against her fellas shoulder. But that short moment had stirred something in Joe. In the dark golden light of the numerous high-hanging light bulbs Valerie’s eyes had looked like melted amber. The shadows that flickered across the hall softened her face, giving it an ethereal look. She was breathtaking and Joe wanted to be the one with his arm around her waist. He wanted to be the one she leaned her cheek against. He felt an overwhelming unreasonable hatred for this random man he didn’t know simply because he was the one who held Valerie so close.

Once the song ended, Joe politely bid goodbye to his partner and made a beeline for Valerie. She stood talking to her partner and a few other guys Joe didn’t recognize. He approached their group stiffly, his hands in his pockets. Everyone looked surprised at his arrival, especially Valerie, who was obligated to introduce him considering she was the only one who really knew him.

After a quick nod to the group Joe said, “Valerie can I talk to you?” Valerie’s brow furrowed in confusion but she politely excused herself. Joe lead her to an unoccupied side of the room near the door.

“Is something wrong?” Valerie asked, a fresh glass of champagne clutched in her perfectly manicured hands. Joe had no clue as to what he had wanted to say to her or what exactly he wanted from her. His goal had simply been to remove her from that man’s presence. In all honesty, he had no plan because he was confused on how exactly he considered her; was she a friend? An enemy? Or just another beautiful woman?

“Well, I just wanted to give you the option to dance with me,” he hesitated, watching her face for a reaction, “or one of the other Easy guys,” he added.

“Um, I’m alright, thank you, I’ve been happy dancing with-“ she gestured back at her partner.

“That guy? Psh,” Joe said dismissively, “guys a cement mixer, don’t you wanna dance with someone good?”

Red rose up in Valerie’s cheeks, “who? Like you?” she asked.

Joe shrugged, “anyone’s better than that fool.”

“You don’t even know him, Joe.”

Fair point, Joe thought, but he didn’t like the guy. “I can tell he’s a dip, just look at him!” Joe laughed.

“This is a really terrible way of asking me to dance with you!”

“Hey, I’m doin’ you a favor.”

“Me a favor? Could you be more full of yourself?”

“Me full of myself? What about you little miss perfect. I’m not the one walking around acting like you know everything.”

“I know more than you!” “See there you go, why do you gotta go around putting people down?”

“No one seems to have a problem with me except you!” Valerie shot back.

“Take it outside lovebirds,” an intoxicated private said as he passed them.

His interruption killed the argument between them. Instead they just stood glaring at each other, dark brown eyes meeting golden ones.   

Finally, Joe said, “come on, let’s dance.”

“You wish!” Valerie stomped on his foot.

Joe swallowed his curse, “fuck,” he said in a strangled a voice. Valerie turned to stalk away but Joe grabbed her elbow.

“Get off of me,” she hissed, trying her best not to make more of a scene than they already had.

“Come on.” Joe pulled her out the nearest door, throwing them both into the cool Georgian night. Now engulfed by darkness they were really free to fight it out.

“What the fuck was that for?” he demanded.

“Who do you think you are?” she shot back. “Interrupting my evening for what? Just to invite me on a pity dance? I don’t need your pity, I was enjoying myself quite a bit tonight until you started all this!” She threw her hands up in frustration. Some of the champagne from the glass still in her hand spilled over the side, onto her hand. “Ugh,” she exclaimed. She wiped her hand angrily on her dress.

Jealousy stabbed through Joe’s chest at her words. She had been enjoying herself with that guy. “What’s so special about that guy anyways? Didn’t you just meet him tonight?” he sneered.

Valerie opened her mouth to speak, then stopped. She closed it, examining him. A devilish smirk crossed her face, “oh is this what it’s about Joe? You jealous?”

  Yes. “No!” he said, “I just don’t know why you’re all moony over this guy. This is a social, not something you bring a date to.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Don’t believe me about what? This isn’t a place for dates? Not usually-”

“That you’re not jealous! What’s your problem Joe? If you’re interested in me just be a man and tell me.”

“Typical, you thinking that everyone has got to be in love with you.”

“Then tell me why you’re being so rude tonight! Either you’re jealous or you hate me.” Was there a third option? Because Joe felt like he was somewhere in between. He definitely didn’t like Valerie. She got under his skin like no one else. At the same time, there was a magnetism about her that kept drawing him in. Those eyes, those lips, even that temper. He wanted to grab her and kiss her just to shut her up.

“And if you hated me you wouldn’t be bothering with all this!”  Joe was barely even listening to her at this point.

He could feel his blood pumping; the adrenaline and anger mixing together to create a roar in ears that made it impossible to comprehend everything she was saying. He knew he was going to do it even as he counseled himself against it. He surprised himself with his sudden movement; he snatched her waist and pulled her into a hard kiss.

Immediately, she pushed him away. “What the hell!” she threw the remainder of her champagne in his face. Cooly, Joe wiped the liquid off his face with the sleeve.

“You told me to tell you!”

“Not like that!”

He stood glaring at her. She glared back, her now empty glass hanging pointlessly from her hand. There was nothing but silence between them, and the chirp of insects in the night sky. The faint sounds from the festivities inside filtered out but Joe and Valerie were completely in their own world, in a standoff.

Then suddenly, mutually, something shifted between them. Flaring rage turned to lust. Simultaneously they lunged for each other. Joe wrapped one arm around her waist, the other hungrily snaking up her thigh. Valerie’s fingers twisted in his hair, tugging at the thick, dark tendrils. He bit down on her lip as she pulled on his hair. Their kisses were messy and hungry; all the pent up anger and tension that had built up between them expressed in an intimate power struggle as they moved to devour each other.

“You drive me crazy,” Joe pulled away for breath.

Her lipstick was completely gone, its last traces staining her swollen mouth red. “I can’t stand you,” she retorted. He kissed her again, tangling her hand in her hair. Their pace slowed from the previous feverish speed to something more sensual without losing its fervor. Joe had her pressed against the building wall. His hands cupped her her jaw and slid down her throat. His mind was muddled with his detestation for this woman and the aching physical desire that was taking over him. She must have felt similarly as one hand pushed against his pelvis, as if warding him off, while the other dug fingernails into the nape of neck, forcing him in closer.

Once again they surfaced for air, this time taking time to really look at each other. The sound of their panting filled the space around them as her eyes searched his for some explanation.

“What’re we doing, Joe?” her voice was oddly vulnerable. Joe traced her jaw with a calloused thumb.

“I don’t know.” He pushed away from her and ran a hand through his tousled hair. Cold air entered the space where their bodies were previously connected. It sent a shiver through Valerie. “I don’t know,” Joe repeated.

He stepped back even further into the dark, his hand on his hips. He kicked a rock on the ground.

“You don’t like me,” Valerie said with the slight intonation of a question. Joe sucked his teeth. “And,” she continued slowly, “I don’t know if I like you.”

“I don’t know how I feel about you,” Joe said.

Valerie crossed her arms, her eyes bore into him. She was waiting for him to say something else, to offer a but. But it never came.

After a few unbearable minutes of silence she finally said, “I’m going back inside, Joe.” The patch of darkness he stood in was filled with a momentary field of light as she opened the door. Then, she was gone and Joe was alone in the darkness.

Joe did his best to avoid Valerie after that, but he felt her golden eyes on him in the mess hall. He wanted to provide her with answers, to tell her how he was feeling, but he didn’t know. He told himself there was a nothing to like about her - she was a pretentious kiss ass who seemed to have every guy wrapped around her finger. But he saw through her - he wasn’t going to fall for her like everyone else had.

Yet, she consumed his thoughts. All the pieces of love and hate swirled in his mind as he desperately tried to conceive a clear way to explain how he was feeling. He didn’t like her, but he might be falling in love with her. But even if he had realized this sooner, it still came too late.

In a matter of weeks she was stepping out with the dark haired guy she had hit it off with that night. He was a boring, strait laced guy, or at least that’s what Joe had gathered from Bill. The guys dullness was obvious. From what Joe witnessed, there was no fire between them. Not that it was his place to care, he reminded himself. Every time Joe saw them together he avoided her gaze. He knew he would see that look that was begging him to step in, to step up and interrupt this course she was on. But, as long as she was with this guy Joe had an excuse not to love her.

#hbo war #band of brothers #joe liebgott #joe liebgott x oc #fanfiction #BoB #hbo band of brothers #angst #heartbreak

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rosequartzstarswrites · 3 years

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20 Questions for Writers

Thank you @cheesyficwriter for the tag!

How many works do you have on AO3?

What's your total AO3 word count?

351,699

How many fandoms have you written for and what are they?

As of now, I have only written for Harry Potter; however, in February I began several LOTR/Hobbit WIPs that I have not yet published. The first one is due out at the start of September though!

What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

In Another Universe: Hermione Granger is brilliant: she completed her PhD in Linguistics at 25, and is the youngest faculty member at the University. Ron Weasley, an unruly quantum physicist... well, he's getting there. But when Granger gets stacked with a project she hates and has to talk to other scholars at the University, their paths cross and become permanently intertwined in a way neither of them could've ever anticipated. (Slow Burn Multichap Muggle Uni AU) Rated T.

Rosebury Grounds: Lady Hermione Granger has been reared up in society, to marry well and be a good housewife, like any good Edwardian lady, but that's far from what she wants. When a handyman by the name of Ronald Weasley joins the house staff, utterly disarming her from the moment they first meet, he might just be the opportunity she needs to break loose and choose her own destiny.Lord Draco Malfoy has a secret— a secret he knows would cost him everything if it ever saw the light. But it's getting harder and harder to keep it from his father, because Draco keeps bumping into a pair of emerald eyes and a head of lush black hair, and he can't pretend his knees don't buckle at the sight. Which would be quite alright, if not for one small problem: it's not a woman they belong to.Two tales of forbidden love, set in Edwardian England. (Multichap Muggle AU) Rated M.

Something Growing: Hermione’s pregnant— and she’s freaking out. She’s always been good at everything, but she’s not sure that’ll hold for being a mother; however, when Ron gets home earlier than expected, she realizes she doesn’t need to be great at everything so long as she’s got him beside her. (Oneshot) Rated G.

Big in Japan: Harry Potter is a famous rockstar out on a world tour— but when one too many meet-and-greets threatens to drive him insane, he takes an escapade out into the streets of Tokyo, where he ends up at an expat bar with a captivating redhead that seems totally unaware of who he is, or why she should know him at all, for that matter. (Muggle AU oneshot) Rated E.

Teaspoon Vindication: After escaping Malfoy Manor, Ron comes to visit Hermione in her room at Shell Cottage, and does the one thing that may be the hardest for him— talking about his feelings. (Romione oneshot)

Do you respond to comments, why or why not?

I try my best, though I don’t always get to all of them! My reasoning is that if folks are kind enough to tell me how much they enjoyed my writing, the least I can do is thank them for their lovely words.

What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?

The Last Farewell! It’s a Wolfstar oneshot, set in canon universe, where Remus comes to Sirius’s grave to ask for his blessing (and forgiveness) to marry Tonks. It was angst central from the start and I even wrote it while listening to an angsty song.

What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?

I generally write happy, fade-to-black endings, but if I had to choose I’d say Truth or Dare. This is a male!Hermione x Ron summer camp AU born of a game of spin-the-bottle/truth-or-dare that ends with them figuring out their feelings go beyond friendship. I say it is the happiest ending because I think the “boy figuring out he likes boys” scenario has been overdone in angst a bit too much, and the fact that the feelings are reciprocated and they decide to stay in touch would make me giddy if I was their age and in their shoes. Anyway, it’s just a sweet ending.

Do you write crossovers? If so, what is the craziest one you've written?

Not at all— I actually don’t like crossovers at all, so I have never even entertained reading, let alone writing, one. (No hate at all to those with imaginations large and strong enough to conjure up awesome crossovers— I am in awe of you all, they’re just not for me!)

Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Never, luckily, since the Romione community is so lovely and supportive! But, though not outright hate, for a while I had an anonymous FFN reviewer who left reviews on every chapter of Rosebury Grounds saying that my title was a porn/sex act...? I was distraught and scoured Google to see if they really were right and this was some obscure euphemism I’d entirely missed, but turns out it wasn’t, and they had gotten confused with a vulgar but similar term. So I ignored those reviews but they kept coming and then eventually one time I found a 500 word very graphic description of the sex act in question in my reviews, so desperate was the reviewer (apparently) to get their (wrong) point across. Yikes.

Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes! I’ve written a lot and of many kinds— explicit, implied, just foreplay, fade-to-black, referenced... I’ve written both M/F and M/M.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

No— I didn’t even know that was something I should worry about!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No, but I speak fluent Spanish, so I’m planning on translating In Another Universe and Rosebury Grounds myself once I’ve finished the latter.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

No, the most I’ve done is beta from the plot-building stage!

What's your all-time favorite ship?

Gahhhh don’t make me pick! Romione (HP) is first in my heart because I see so much of myself and what I want in it, but Samfro (LOTR) is, to me, the truest depiction of love in all of literature, ever. I will forever come back to it.

What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?

I hope to finish my Hogwarts Actually series that I started for Romionecom (hi, Discord friends!) inspired by Love Actually. I have it all planned out, translating all the relationships in the movie to HP pairings and friendships, and all I need to do is write— but I think I’ll come back to this periodically and unoften. Hopefully I’ll finish it!

What are your writing strengths?

I like to think that I write good and witty dialogue. I’m a theatre person, so I think my dialogue sounds mostly natural when spoken. I also have a good sense of beginning and ending, so most of my works/chapters start and end with a memorable phrase of some sort. I also have excellent grammar and spelling, so except for a few occasional typos, that makes the job of proofing much easier!

What are your writing weaknesses?

I think I sometimes write sentences that are waaaay too long and convoluted. I use words that are too big sometimes and just take approachability from my writing. Fanfic has been excellent to practice correcting this, though!

What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

As a bilingual writer myself— don’t write dialogue in other languages unless you speak it well or get it translated directly through someone who speaks it well. Though I appreciate the effort, I can always tell when something was put through Google Translate, and that kind of dialogue most often ends up lacking the context clues/colloquial familiarity of real language speakers, and ends up sounding stiff and forced.

What was the first fandom you wrote for?

I’m not proud of it, but I used to write MCR RPF back when I was 13 or so. It was a very brief stint and I have since deleted the works in their entirety, since my principles have evolved to the place where RPF to me seems disrespectful and invasive. Plus, it was on Wattpad.

What's your favorite fic you've written?

Again, don’t make me pick please!! I truly have had a lot of fun with Rosebury and I think it is a testament to how much I love it that I was able to keep the idea on hold for a full six months before I started writing it. I love the Downton setting and the Edwardian dialogue is a lot of fun to me. But I also have a soft spot for the In Another Universe original oneshot I submitted to the RFF2020— that work awoke my love for Muggle AUs (which I like to think I’m most known for), inspired me to start work on my first multichap fic, and keeps me coming back to it anytime I have doubt in my ability to write swoonworthy scenes. It was the oneshot that started it all.

Tagging: @accio-broom @be11atrixthestrange @folk-melody (and anyone else who would like to!)

#fanfiction #fanfic writer #rosequartzstars #hp fanfic #hp fanfiction #harry potter fanfiction #fanfic author

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urmomsstuntdouble · 3 years

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Can you do one for america

Since I received this about an hour or two after posting my lithuania analysis, I assume you’re asking for an america character analysis. I was debating whether or not to go through with writing this or not for a while, but i’ve decided that I’ll try. I hope you enjoy it!

Idealism

The first thing that sticks out to me when thinking about america is that he’s super idealistic, and I think this has its roots in his birth. Everything in his life has been about hope and being better than others, even down to the decision to colonise north america. England needs to be the most powerful country in europe. Better set up a colony in america so that it can save us. It’s that sort of logic that i think gives america the idea that he needs to be perfect, or that he can be the ideal person. And though a lot of what we consider to be the “american” identity (intense patriotism, nativism, idealism, etc) took recognizable shape in the 19th century, i think this way of thinking was nothing new to alfred. He’d been raised on it, with the desire to please arthur sort of in his blood? Anyway i feel like the idea that the colonies would be so so prosperous really put the idea into america’s head early on that he was perfect and that he was destined to be such a great person, even if that wasn't true. I often see his daddy issues presented as solely abandonment issues, but my interpretation of america is more of a combination of abandonment issues and the pressure, some of it self inflicted, to be a perfect country. Basically, his idealism is deeply rooted in unhealthy places.

Also, a religion headcanon i have is that while he was more raised to be a puritan, freddie prefers quakerism. Though he’s not the most compatible with quakerism, as it rejects violence and quakers often refer to themselves as the society of friends, and are very welcoming, i think it gives him some hope. One of freddie’s biggest problems is that he wants people to be better than they are, and quakerism helps a little with that, because it’s a way that he can help himself become better than he currently is. I feel like he’s been a quaker for a very long time, so he’s not a very good quaker, but this is still something that’s very important to him.

Hero complex and other mental bullshit

America having a hero complex and also being physically 19 is something i think really highly of. First of all, it very much fits with the mythology of america being a sort of world savior. Secondly, a lot of american media focuses on heroism, whether its on the behalf of average people, like the hunger games, or on the behalf of superheroes, like the mcu- especially over the past 20 years. Though i think it’s a good thing to promote heroism, the hero-martyr complex that gen z has is. Oof. And i think alfred fits very well into that toxic sort of “heroism” that most gen z kids have. He thinks he’s somehow able to fix everything wrong with the world, just because he really wants to. Though that desire is genuine, it’s not always something that’s his place to fix or something that even needed fixing. There’s also a selfish component to that- He needs to prove himself, and heroism is the only way he thinks he can do that. It’s why he works out constantly and cares so much, on a personal rather than country-avatar-thing level, about being #1 at everything. He has to be better than everyone else because he has to be the perfect hero.

I also think it’s interesting how america seems to have more pronounced daddy issues than canada, and i think this is something that harkens back to the 13 colonies (side note i hate the term ‘colonial times’ when referring to the time before the revolutionary war or canadian independence. These are settler states, its always colonial times.) and american independence. Canada sort of only exists because of british loyalists, as they made up the majority of the population around the turn of the 19th century. They saw themselves as being The Better Colonists. Real daddy’s boy types, and I think this is something that contributes to the hero complex. Because matthew refused to rebel so openly, that made arthur favor him as a son, so alfred felt the need to be even better than matthew- even though, of course, alfred was a bit more favored.

Fighting Style

Freddie is very good at violence, but not in the same way that a lot of other nations are. Where they tend to be more well trained in specific styles of fighting, freddie just sort of has all of them? His mind is very crowded, i think. Also, the way that he would have learned to fight is different from the other super powerful countries by virtue of his youth, and by virtue of the different regional fighting styles in america. One that’s haunted me is a trend in the ability to rip off ears and noses- Particularly by white gangs in the antebellum south, this was seen as being like. A real badass. I think alfred was something of a feral child. If you know the saying “it takes a village to raise a child,” i think it really did with him. He had so many parents, just like a lot of the western hemisphere countries. But anyway because of all his many many parents, there was never any strong parental force in his life, so it’s more like he didn’t have any at all, and because of that, alfred was a very strange child. And because violence is so ingrained in american society, alfred is very good at fighting, both in order to be fun and flashy and for his own self defense. Though he doesn't really like to fight unless he feels like he has to (and other people are very good at convincing him that he does have to)

Sports

Though america is definitely super athletic and could probably naturally be good at most sports, i think there’s a few that he’d more gravitate towards. Those are basketball, track and field, and olympic lifting. I would include american football but it’s a stupid sport that doesn’t make any sense, so it will not be included for spite reasons. In basketball I think he’s sort of an every-man. I think he’s around six feet tall, so he really could play any position on offense, and as for defense, I think he’d play his best defense against the point guard, bc i feel like Alfred is really fast and good at getting up in your face. He’d have a ton of steals whenever defending against the point guard. I think he’d be a good center on offense, because he’s a bit aggressive and that would be useful for getting rebounds and put-backs, though i wouldn’t discount point-guard freddie, because he does like to be very inspiring. He’s pretty energetic as well, and a point guard can really carry the entire team in terms of energy and spirit. As for track and field, he’d also be an every man- I feel like he’d gravitate more towards sprinting events by personality, but his coach would stick him in wherever. Where olympic lifts are concerned, he’s absolutely a snatch specialist.

Empire and contradictions

America is an empire. No way of getting around that. I think imperialism in hetalia is an interesting subject, especially where america is concerned. @mysticalmusicwhispers did a good job running that down here, but basically my thoughts on the matter are that alfred doesn't really like being an empire. There’s many angles to that. It’s lonely at the top, for one. There’s no one who relates to being a 21st century empire in quite the same way as him. Then you have the fact that a lot of people living in america have suffered under imperialism as well. Because of that, there’s a lot of self hatred and anxiety and a not knowing if he can fully trust himself. Theres also the obsession that many americans have with people from other cultures being able to assimilate to american wasp culture. Because of all the people who live in the states who are very much not wasps and who can never be, it’s really hard on alfred, though he refuses to admit that things are anything but fine.

Extras/Fun stuff

A book that reminds me of him is The Things They Carried by Tim O’Brien. It’s a collection of short stories about O’Brien’s time serving in the military during the Vietnam War. It’s a very haunting book and I think about it at least once a week, but it is very violent and there’s a lot of fucked up stuff in it.

giveme chubby alfred or give me death

i feel like this shouldn’t have to be said, but sometimes there’s people who depict him as being pro-trump or pro-right wing bullshit, which. absolutely not. just because of all the political turmoil that exists within alfred, and because of all the pain he goes through because of all the hate that exists within his borders- hate that the entire world is forced to pay attention to. even though he might not have all the best sympathies or motivations, he’s just so tired of all the pain he personally goes through because of domestic political unrest, and would like it to end in the way that’s the least painful for him as a person.

Bi king of my heart

not a natural blond

I hc him as being mixed, though i’m not sure what exactly he’d look like? But i do enjoy alfred but not white, as poc are the driving force behind a lot of american life, right down to the languages we speak. Like. something like half the states names are the words of their indigenous peoples, and even more toponyms are indigenous across the country. Then of course i feel he’s very protective of aave and will always pronounce words in Not English correctly. (if u want to hear more about my language thoughts they’re linked below. Not gonna rehash it here cause those posts are Long™)

My playlist for him!

Other analyses (age, linguistics)

writing requests

#@ mystic how does it feel to be tagged in two of my writing request posts #im sorry i love your writing sm #anyway thanks for the ask anon! im not quite so angsty about america right now so this probably #is not as good as it could've been were i in my feelings about him #anywhomst! hope u enjoy this #hetalia #hws #hws america #tw violence #tw imperialism #?#sort of #i dont go into detail about the imperialism but its metnioned #ask #anon #writing requests #character analysis #ceros posting

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word-scribbless · 4 years

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Smile Again Part 1

Note: This is part one of my new Hotch series!!!! There is a whole lot of just back story in this one and setting the scene! More cuteness to come! A lot of slow burn fluff and some hurt comfort not really full blown angst!

X female reader

Summary: JJ’s cousin Y/N has been through a lot in her 37 years of life. She’s moved to Virginia to start to move on with her life,until meeting Aaron Hotchner throws a wrench in her plans in the best way.

Masterlist ——— Series masterlist

———————-

Y/N Y/L/N had just moved to Virginia to be closer to her best friend and cousin, Jennifer Jareau. If she were being honest this isn't how she'd imagined her life at 37 would be when she was younger. If you asked her then she'd have told you that she saw herself married with kid number 2 or 3 on the way, not a widow running from her past. Life has its own ideas for the way our lives will go though doesn't it. Y/N had a few things on her side however, she had her dream job as a translator for a publishing company where she worked remotely. She also had a loving, if not overbearing family to lean on, and lean she did. For the past three years Y/N was living and helping out on her parent's farm in Pennsylvania. She recently decided it was time to move to be closer to JJ, and the publishing company she worked for. She loved all the help and support her family gave her but she also needed to start over fresh and she knew that meant moving on physically as well. It wouldn't hurt to also get away from her family treating her like glass and closer to her cousin that, while just as overbearing at times, knew she was capable of more than grieving the death of her husband, and her hopes for the future.

She knew after the first week of living in Virginia near JJ that she made the right move, she finally started to feel like a human again. Y/N loved living in an apartment not far from her favorite cousin and her family. She especially loved that she now got to watch and hang out with her favorite little kids, Henry and Micheal, whenever JJ and Will both had to work. That morning Y/N was woken up at 4:30 in the morning to the ring tone she saved for JJ, Spice World, at top volume.

"Ugh, I never thought I'd say this but it's too early for spice girls." she grunted as she picked up the phone.

JJ chuckled and said "Sorry my dear. Wil is away for training and we just got a case that they need me on do you think..."

"I'm on my way" Y/N cut her off "I'll stop for coffee and bagels"

"You're my favorite person," she says.

Y/N rushed to get ready and grab her go bag. She learned quickly to keep one after she moved to Virginia and picked up more munchkin sitting duties, as she calls them. She headed to JJ’s favorite coffee shop, which was quickly becoming hers too. She arrived at the Jereau-Lemontague house quickly and was getting settled in on the couch when she heard JJ’s phone ring.

“Jayje, a handsome man named Hotch is calling” she whisper-yelled into the kitchen looking at the photo icon of Hotch on her cousin’s screen.

“That’d be my boss, He’s single by the way” she winked as she took the phone.

“Shut up” Y/N replied with an eye roll.

“Hey Hotch” JJ answered.

Y/N could make out most of the conversation from where she was perched drinking her coffee. She could tell that JJ’s boss was telling her that he was running behind because someone named Jessica had an emergency and couldn’t watch Jack. She assumed Jack was his Son as she heard JJ respond that Will was away too so he couldn’t watch him.

“Psst” Y/N called trying to get JJ’s attention without being rude. “Jack is Henry’s best friend right?”

JJ nodded.

“Tell him to bring him over, I’ll watch him. The more the merrier right?”

“Hang on Hotch” JJ said, turning to Y/N “you’re sure? He’s a great kid, you'll love him, but that’s a whole other human.”

“I’m sure! Tell him” she gestured to the phone.

“Hey Hotch. My cousin,Y/N, is watching the boys. She's amazing with them and she says Jack is welcome to join the party.” After a bit of convincing Hotch agreed with many ‘thank you’s. Before she knew it the very handsome man (who was even more handsome than his picture) showed up at the door with a very sleepy little boy in his arms.

“Hi I’m Y/N, JJ is just grabbing her bags, I’ll show you to Henry’s room.” she smiled.

Hotch got jack settled on the un-used bunk of Henry’s bunk beds and kissed him on the head. Y/N led him out of the room and turned to him.

“I know you don’t have much time but do you have anything specific you need to tell me?” She said handing him a note with her full name and phone number on it.

“Thanks. He’s pretty easy going but I wrote down some basics that I usually give to baby sitters. JJ trusts you though, so I do too.”

“Thank you. Call whenever you want okay? Be safe, and keep my Jayjee safe too.” She smiled.

“Always” he nodded.

Hotch and JJ decided to carpool to Quantico for the briefing.

“Y/N seems nice.” Hotch says as he drives, face serious as usual but JJ can see the softness. She knew Y/N and Hotch would get along. They had more in commen than most people knew, but unfortunately that included a big lose and both Being very closed off to new relationships. However she had hope.

“Yeah, she’s my very best friend. She’s amazing with kids too so Jack is in very good hands.” She smiled.

“I can tell” he replied.

“I’ve missed her, she was back in PA for the last few years but before that she lived in Maryland so it wasn’t too bad of a drive. Still this is way better."

“Does she work with children for a living?” he asked, trying to seem his normal nonchalant self, but not truly caring because he knew JJ saw straight through him anyway.

“No she is a translator for a publishing company. She translates books to and from other languages. She studied linguistics and Languages in college and has her PHD. She’s basically the whole package!" She said with a wink, causing Hotch to chuckle.

“Why so many questions? You interested boss?” she asked jokingly.

“wh-, I-, she’s watching my kid, I was just...” Hotch stumbled in a way he prided himself on not doing often.

“It’s okay, I think she’s interested too.” She said quietly.

“What?”

“She had the look after you talked” she laughed at Hotch’s confused face.” It’s a look I’ve only seen a few times but it means she’s interested so do what you will with that just be careful with her. She’s been through a lot.”

“JJ” Hotch warned firmly.

“I know I know, I’m dropping it!” she said and stuck to her word, changing the conversation to their kids and their adorable antics.

Throughout the case JJ and Hotch each called Y/N every night to check on their little ones. JJ made sure to check on Y/N too while Hotch usually kept their chats short but couldn't deny he enjoyed talking to her. She found herself looking forward to his call each night, she knew it was stupid but she let herself enjoy the butterflies a little bit anyway.

She had also been enjoying her time with not only 'her boys' but also Jack. Jack is a sweet kid and she loved talking to him about school, and soccer, and his family. One night before bed, after Michael and Henry fell asleep, Jack asked Y/N if she had any favorite stories.

“Of course I do, my mom used to tell me a story about fairies every night before bed.” Y/N replied.

“My Daddy says that my Momma used to sing me special songs before bed.” Jack said with a sad smile. “Daddy sings them sometimes but they make him a little sad, I wish he had someone to make him happy.”

“He has you sweet boy” Y/N cooed and kissed his head.

“I know but I mean besides me” Jack said.

“You don’t have to worry Jack, because I like to think that no matter how much someone hurts, there is always someone else out there that will make them smile again.” She assured him and smiled as he cocked his head to look up at her. “I lost someone who made me smile too, but I still find new people who make my life happy. My cousin and her family, you…” she smiled

“My daddy?” Jack asked.

She smiled and said, "Yeah your Daddy too, I don’t know him very well but he has to be great to have a kid like you!” she chuckled.

“He’s the best.” He said as he snuggled into her side, “You lost some one you love, like how daddy and I lost my momma?”

“I did” she nodded. "His name was Connor, he made me very happy but I know he looks over me and keeps me safe. Just like your Momma does for you and your Daddy.”

Jack looked up at her and smiled as he started to tell Y/N all about what he remembers about Hailey and how he feels. Y/N snuggled up close to him, listening and adding in here in there until he falls sound asleep.

She knew that when Aaron and JJ come back she’ll have to talk to him about this but for now she’s just happy that that that sweet little boy feels comfortable enough to open up to her. Their conversation however had her begin to think about Connor, and the day her whole life got turned upside-down. Hearing Jack talk all about his mom made her almost want to open up about her own feelings about her late husband after all this time, but for now she’s just curl up with some tea and JJ’s Netflix account.

————————-

Thank you to @winterscaptain for the encouragement and help.

#criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x imagine #aaron hotchnerx reader #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic #hotch x female reader #fem!reader #female!reader

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sineala · 4 years

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The Old Guard

This post comes to you courtesy of the generous support of one of my Patreon patrons, who wanted to know what I thought of The Old Guard. This post contains some spoilers for both the movie and the comics.

So, a few days after it came out, my wife and I watched The Old Guard on Netflix. Tumblr had said a bunch of good things about it, and both of us basically cut our fannish teeth on Highlander fandom so we already had an automatic buy-in for a story about immortals. I knew it was based on a comic by Greg Rucka, but I had not, at the time, read the comic, although I am now reading it in order to write this post.

The premise of the film is as follows: a four-person team of immortals (Andy, Joe, Nicky, and Booker) makes a living hiring themselves out as mercenaries, fighting for causes that they believe are right. They are successful at this basically because their grasp of tactics appears to be (1) die, followed by (2) come back to life and (3) murder your attackers who are no longer paying attention to you because they think you're dead. Honestly, at this point, you wouldn't really need to be very good at the actual fighting part, I would think, but the film establishes that all of them are -- especially Charlize Theron as Andy -- because presumably it wants you to watch action sequences of everyone being badass, which they are. So, yeah. They take all the good-guy mercenary jobs that no one else can do because it would kill them, which is not a problem for them!

Anyway! The group's routine is interrupted by two major events: the discovery of Nile Freeman, a new immortal, who is a Marine serving in Afghanistan who survives getting murdered; and also the fact that one of their employers, Copley (played by Chiwetel Eijofor, whom you may remember as Mordo in Doctor Strange) has sold them out to the movie's Actual Villain, a Big Pharma CEO named Merrick (played by the guy who played Dudley in the Harry Potter series), who has (as far as I can tell) been given instructions to play this role just like he's Martin Shkreli, who is interested in finding the secret of their immortality, and whom you can tell is evil because he has his name in giant letters on the side of his building.

ME: Look, it's the villain! I've found the villain! MY WIFE: Other than Tony Stark, who actually puts their names on buildings like that except villains? It's just villains, right? ME: Uh. The president? The president definitely does that. (We make horrified faces at each other.)

Because we are Extremely Pedantic, we also spent a lot of time picking at how the characters' names and language abilities match up to their stated background. They all know a lot of languages, as you might expect, and the movie was determined to get through them without subtitles, which is an interesting choice but also kind of left some linguistic plot holes.

For example, Joe and Nicky claim to have met each other in the Crusades, with Nicky as (presumably) a Crusader and Joe as (presumably) a Muslim occupant of the area, although the movie doesn't specify this; Wikipedia gives Joe's name as Yusuf Al-Kaysani, which would at least fit that. Nicky is clearly Italian (as is Luca Marinelli, the actor who portrays him) and when he speaks Italian to the rest of the group we see that he definitely speaks modern Italian as spoken in Rome... which is absolutely, definitely not the language he grew up speaking, given that, among other things, Wiki lists the character's full name as Nicolò di Genova. I don't know if the writer of the screenplay (who I see now is also Greg Rucka) didn't know how much Italian dialects had changed in the last thousand years, if he thought that was good enough to be a nod to the character, or if there's some kind of backstory that didn't make it in where every so often Nicky decides to learn a modern dialect and keep his hand in, and also decides that that's the language he wants to use among his friends who would presumably understand several different dialects.

Also, the reveal that Andy's real name was in fact "Andromache of Scythia" was indeed badass but was slightly undercut by my wife yelling BUT THE SCYTHIANS DIDN'T SPEAK GREEK at the television.

Additionally, I feel like the movie could perhaps have been aware of the ways it chose to label on-screen locations, in which the countries were spelled out in large fonts with the cities above them. Places like LONDON, ENGLAND got their entire names spelled out, as did small French villages whose names I can no longer remember, but I guess AFGHANISTAN and MOROCCO and SOUTH SUDAN have zero cities, huh? However, the end of the movie did take place in PARIS which I guess unlike London is its own country now.

So the actual plot features the group of immortals trying to explain this whole immortality thing to Nile while being on the run from the people who are trying to turn them into Big Pharma, who wants to capture them and exploit the secret of their immortality. This is where it falls down a little for me, because the worldbuilding... gets a little shaky. They dream about each other when they're apart. Okay. Why? Sometimes they just stop being immortal and lose the capacity to heal and are dead in their next battle. Why? Why do they even exist? I just... wanted more answers than the movie gave me, and the pacing where I kept expecting there to be explanations wasn't there. There were a couple of scenes where Nile sat there in silence contemplating the fact that she would outlive her loved ones and my brain kept trying to insert Queen's "Who Wants to Live Forever?" Granted, the Highlander canon explanation for immortality is deeply, deeply weird, but at least it tried. No, I can't believe I'm defending Highlander II either.

The characters, too, could have been more fleshed out. The bulk of the character development is given to Andy and Nile, and I'm not complaining about that -- they were great -- but Joe and Nicky and Booker only got maybe a few lines each. They would have felt so much more real if they'd just had a little bit more to them. Also I didn't understand Copley's arc at all, but saying more about that would be spoilery. I do like that they have definitely set themselves up for a sequel.

But even with what we got, there's a lot to love about the characters. If you're here for canonically queer characters, you will enjoy Nicky and Joe, who have been in a relationship for probably about a thousand years. They are minor characters as far as the overall plot goes, but what they do have is lovely, and there is a romantic declaration between them at one point that is absolutely beautiful and possibly the most fervent love declaration I can remember seeing in a movie since maybe... ever. If you also like your queerness more subtextual, though Andy is never portrayed as explicitly queer, her past friendship with a fellow immortal Quynh was shown as very intense, as is the role she takes here mentoring Nile into the world of immortality. Also she has a double-bladed axe (yes, we kept yelling BRING ME MY MAN-KILLING AXE at the television) and as we all know, the double-bladed labrys has in modern times become a symbol for lesbians. So there's that.

In addition to the characters of color who play important roles here -- Nile was my personal favorite, but there's also Joe and Copley and (in flashback) Quynh -- there's a lot of diversity behind the cameras as well, or so the internet informs me. The director (Gina Prince-Bythewood) is the first Black woman to direct a superhero movie, and the same is true of her editor (Terilyn Shropshire). And, furthermore, apparently 85% of the post-production crew were women. They didn't have to do that, and yet they did. It was nice.

I don't watch a whole lot of action movies these days because I usually find R-rated violence too... violent, but I found myself really liking almost all of the action sequences here. None of them felt gratuitous, and a lot of them really focused on the physicality of the immortals fighting in a way I liked, because I feel like people are probably going to fight differently if they know they can survive every single hit, and I think the movie portrayed that in a way that a lot of superhero comics and movies don't. My favorite fight scene is definitely the one between Nile and Andy at the beginning, when Andy has trapped her on a plane and it's extremely close-quarters fighting and also extremely brutal. They don't stop basically until Nile breaks enough bones that she can't get up anymore, because until then she's going to keep trying, which is both kind of horrifying and a great character note. And they didn't film it like it was a Sexy Catfight! It was so good.

Also, the soundtrack is really good, and I've found myself streaming it on Spotify all week. I didn't know any of the songs in the movie, but there's a lot of hip-hop and -- okay, I don't even know if this is a genre? -- specifically a lot of hip-hop with an electronic/industrial sort of beat, which I thought was really great and livened up the fight scenes even more; "Going Down Fighting" did a really good job getting me in the mood for the final confrontation with the villain, and... yeah, it's all good. Someone made a playlist on Spotify that will come up if you search for it.

So, yeah. It's on Netflix. It's not without flaws (mostly, explaining how the hell immortality works, and a couple of pacing issues), but it's a really satisfying superhero movie.

That's the movie. Onto the comic, which I am just now starting to read as I write these words. Whee!

So The Old Guard: Opening Fire is a 2017 five-issue Image Comics series written by Greg Rucka, with art by Leandro Fernández, and there's also a 2019 sequel, The Old Guard: Force Multiplied, by the same creative team, also with five issues. I have not actually read any of Rucka's work before now because he is mostly famous for his DC work, but I have heard good things about it, especially his Wonder Woman run.

Anyway. The art is very stylized, with a minimal color palette, and it's very pretty but I honestly found it hard to parse sometimes. Many of the characters have very weird noses. Yes, noses. It's basically mostly in Andy's and Nile's POVs, like the movie, and as far I can tell Andy is explicitly queer, because unless I am entirely misreading this panel in issue #1, here she is in bed with a woman in one panel. Whee. Also there are some nice epigraphs at the beginning of each issue.

Okay, so, the plot here is basically the plot of the movie. There is still no explanation of why immortality exists. But even so, there are some fun character moments that didn't make it into the movie -- for example, Andy saying smartphones are too hard to use and she liked the old ones better, only for the rest of her team to say that she couldn't use those either. I think you get a better sense of Andy's world-weariness in the comic. There are also other, now-dead Immortals mentioned, like Noriko, who "went overboard off the Horn." Quynh is not one of them; Quynh basically is Noriko, which is because they cast a Vietnamese actress who asked if her character could be Vietnamese too, which seems perfectly reasonable to me. But anyway, in the comics, she's Noriko. Weirdly, Andy's full name, as she tells Nile when they meet, is Andronika ("man-victory") rather than Andromache ("man-battle," in case you were wondering); I think the movie made a better choice because Ἀνδρονίκα has exactly two attestations in the Lexicon of Greek Personal Names, whereas Ἀνδρομάχη has all that shiny name recognition of being shared by the wife of Hector and also the queen of the Amazons and will ping viewers as a Greek name, and therefore ancient, even if it can't be the name she was born with. (There are five for "Andronike" and four more for "Andromacha" so they actually have about the same number of total attestations, as far as I can tell, when you consider the alpha/eta alternation in how various Greek dialects mark feminine nouns.)

(Yes, you totally wanted a review by someone who looks up character names in the LGPN. Don't lie.)

Plotwise, Andy gets all of the initial exposition in for Nile before they get to the safehouse, which Copley has already gotten to before they get back, so Booker is bleeding on the floor and Nile doesn't get to meet Joe or Nicky at this time, and I am also glad they changed that for the movie. But, don't worry, Joe and Nicky's romantic declaration is still in here. We also get Andy pondering the last time she was in love, with a human who grew old.

Oh, and we get Andy's age: 6,732. And by issue #5 her name has changed to Andromache, because what even is continuity? I guess Andromache is her name now.

So Nile finally meets Joe and Nicky when she rescues them and also, uh, that plot point where Andy might die? Totally not a thing here. Nope. And no "surprise! even more immortals!" end-credits moments either.

Basically, I feel like every change they made to the script for the movie really strengthened the story, and even though I thought the movie could have used more character moments, it's way better than how the characters are separated for even longer in the comic. Nile rescuing the team means a lot more when she has met them before, you know?

So Force Multiplied starts us off with Andy, Joe, Nicky, and Nile, because Booker is still on time-out. They are in the middle of a car chase, and Booker's off getting himself kidnapped by someone who wants to know where the others are. The villain of the piece turns out to be Noriko, who is still alive, whom Booker had never had a chance to meet and apparently had never heard of. So, basically, a lot like the Quynh plot that the movie is teasing.

Overall it's a little less action-filled than the first one, which had multiple splash pages of nothing but violence; this one is a little more character-driven and explores the relationship, such as it is, between Andy and Noriko, as well as Nile coming to terms with her immortality, as well as with what everyone else has done over the years. It does have a bunch of violence at the end, though.

I don't want to spoil the ending, but I definitely wasn't expecting where that was heading. There's apparently going to be a third volume, and I am looking forward to it, whenever it exists.

(Although, now that I think about it, the ending is a lot like a fan-favorite moment of Highlander: The Series, but I think if I said which episode you would know exactly what the ending was.)

So, yeah! The Old Guard! I can't say as I feel particularly fannish about it -- there's nothing that makes me yearn to fill in the gaps in canon -- but the movie was really good and you should see it. And you should read the comics if you're into that.

#posts i actually wrote

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literaphobe · 3 years

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Im so sorry...is your sister a minor

yeah she’s 17. i really don’t blame her it just sucks. anyway i think i needed to work through this but its also way too long so

lol like that was supposed to be my birthday gift but it has now become a romantic getaway for a man and his gf (who is 18 years younger than him) and my sister and one of her friends. at like. one of the most expensive hotels in the country. the same man who guilted me into giving private tutoring to 8 students at a time while i was a student because he apparently is super poor and has no money and no job. (i started tutoring for extra money and to just. have a job. because he has also given me shit about that before too. if i don’t have a job i’m like a useless baby child who he can never trust to be responsible for her own life. turns out that was just a load of bullshit to trap me. and yeah i was teaching 8-9 students at some point and i think i was like telling him hey i don’t know if this is a good idea. its a little crazy. and he was like no u should keep doing it. its money u should just earn it. we aren’t doing great financially and at some point we might need ur help paying for ur sister’s tutoring classes. and so i did and it hurt me SO much last semester. + covid but also. it was tutoring mostly lmao)

anyway i just. the thought of everything made me cry a lot in the shower lol. like that. quiet cry where u are sobbing uncontrollably but u have to mute it as much as possible so that ur mother who’s washing dishes in the kitchen doesn’t hear it

today we had some ikea furniture delivered. and i was assembling it. and my mom told me “when we were married i was always the one putting together the IKEA furniture. ur dad would always get frustrated and give up” and then in the shower i realized that’s exactly how my dad treats me lmao. i am.... his ikea furniture

so like. i can actually trace the most recent incident of abuse i faced from him back to when. i allowed him to “help” me with my university degree transfer issues. u know. because i couldn’t do the coding degree he pressured me into doing. and wanted to do something else (i could’ve gone to my uni open house w my friends. who ended up entering the arts faculty. and i WANTED to do psychology in the arts faculty too. but my dad and his gf were there. and they just. told me if i did that i would have no future and no job prospects when i graduated. which is SO fucking funny because both of them individually. their grades were super fucking shit and they were never good enough to get into the school that i did. so they had no fucking business telling me what i should or shouldn’t do. but i didn’t know that because they lied to me. my dad lied to me about so many things to scare me into thinking i couldn’t do anything. and at this point in my life. they were still monitoring my internet usage. and there were restrictions set on my phone. mere. months. before i was meant to be a university student. even getting restrictions off my phone was a big fight i had to have. i bought my own laptop with money i made from this f&b job because i knew if i waited for them to get one for me i would be waiting forever. and i was just so fucking scared of them so i got a. ‘practical’ degree. and then slid off my adhd meds because even that felt like part of the trap they kept me in for years)

i decided i wanted to do linguistics and become a linguistics major but my school wasn’t letting me. and it had been a year. so i let him and my mom get involved. which i had SUCH a bad feeling about. an awful awful bad feeling. i was right lmao. i should’ve known his involvement wouldn’t have done shit and would also. set me up for yet another Major Traumatic Incident. which i have spent the entirety of 2020 trying to avoid. do you know how stressful and tiring it feels to just like. every moment around ur own father is u just trying to walk on eggshells praying and hoping that nothing bad will happen. i tried so hard and it fell apart in the end anyway. he couldn’t fix this problem so he took it out on me

my school essentially texted us back saying “we get a shit load of transfer requests every year, even from students from other schools. ur grades from the classes u took aren’t good enough to justify a transfer” and like they were right. i had been off my meds. various things in life had happened. my commute situation wasn’t helping matters either (to and from was 2 hours each) and it has just. not been great. grandad passed away like 2 weeks ago or something at that point. which. may have been an underlying cause for the situation. or maybe he was always going to blow up at me and get violent and crazy. idk

anyway. i guess u could say it is ‘my fault’ for cutting off contact w my father n not speaking to him. but also. he threatened to throw me into a mental institute. and also. violently refused to let me leave the house so he could keep yelling at me. he physically would not let me. i yelled at him to just let me go but he implied that he would actually hurt me if i tried to get past him again. and he said all sorts of shit like he can be crazy too and he can be crazier than me which is something he’s said before. what triggered me to leave was. ok so in the beginning he was giving me the same thing he has yelled at me about over the years. i am super super fucking smart but i waste it all away on purpose and refuse to get my shit together and that’s somehow a personal attack on him. i can’t remember most of it by now. but anyway. i was tearing up and keeping absolutely quiet just waiting for it to be over so i could leave and go to another room. but then he started to. yell at me for crying. its so fucking ironic and weird because in a separate previous incident i was complaining about my school and how much it all was. and i was barely raising my voice but he was like woah woah stop being so emotional!!! as if he doesn’t regularly scream and shout and punch walls or whatever the fuck over the SMALLEST bullshit. anyway. he started to scold me for crying. and then he said ‘if you go out in the future and get a job are you going to cry like this too when ur boss scolds you? or are you acting like this because i’m family and you think its okay?’ as if. i have never had a job. as if i have never had to deal with a boss. bro i swear to fucking god. i am dead to most things now because of him. he can’t do shit. but. in the moment i found this so ridiculous and just SO fucking stupid that i left. i had had enough. i started laughing and i walked out and went to grab my bag so i could go. i didn’t. get very far obviously. and when my dad started threatening me i genuinely thought i was going to die. he was so angry and deranged that i thought he was going to murder me. my heart was going just. so so so fast. even tho i was just standing there. and i told him he was terrifying me (to which he said “GOOD”) and i just NEEDED to get out of this situation and get some space (to which he said “NO” repeatedly). he refused to admit that he would use actual violence to prevent me from leaving the house. he told me he would NEVER let me leave. which was fucking ridiculous. i stay at his house. 2 days out of the fucking week. he literally shoved me backwards so hard when i was trying to leave and he wanted to stop me. he also refused to admit that he used violence or was planning to use violence. i tried to point out this flaw in his logic to him. i said ur going to hurt me. he said no. i said ok then if ur not going to hurt me then let me walk past you and leave the house. he also said no again. and then our cousins rang the door at some point. so then he started to come to his senses. he was like. ‘the reason i don’t want to let you leave is because i’m afraid you’ll hurt yourself.’ which was so fucking stupid. i have NEVER threatened to hurt myself in front of him. i have never shared ANY thoughts of self harm in front of him. he’s the one who would get into massive fights w his dad and threaten to jump out of the window in anger (and i don’t even mean when he was younger. he would fight with his 93 year old dad. fucking stupid bitch). i made this clear to him that i was never ever planning on hurting myself. and then he said fine and let me leave. meaning i had to answer the door to my cousins in tears while he got to walk back to his room and lock himself in

he also. at some point during this argument, told me there would be consequences to me leaving. i guess i know those consequences now lmao. and like. i went home to my moms house. my cousins walked me there. i still haven’t told them. idk if my dad told them. my dad texted me to gaslight me. said that when he said he was going to put me in a mental hospital he meant it as a friendly suggestion because of ‘the state i was in’. and that it ‘wasn’t meant as a threat’ and like. oof. healthy suggestions aren’t meant to be yelled. anyway. i might be texting him. just to inform him about developments and to like. i guess set boundaries maybe. idk. i can’t carry on like this. i hate him and am terrified of him but. cutting him out of my life is basically inviting ostracism from his side of the family. and it’s putting so much stress on me. so. lol

#ask

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snowdice · 4 years

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Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 10]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. Chapters 2, 3, 4, and what I have of Chapter 5 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

It’s going to be stop and go for most of the night because a lot of things will interrupt me, but I hope to do a good amount of this today.

Chapter 2

The morning was just as torturous as Janus had expected it would be. He chewed through another pop-tart, this time bothering to actually check and see that it was a cinnamon-sugar one and drank three cups of caffeinated orange juice. Then, he waved his hand through the air and selected the 1st saved location on his device. He popped up directly behind his desk where he’d been standing the night morning before.

Someone, probably Remus, had shut his integrator down. He swiped a finger across the power button, and it flickered back on, scrolling through its morning start up routine.

The machine scanned through all of the data in the three main system it was connected to and sorted all information into things that concerned him, could concern him, and did not before then sorting the first two categories into order of importance. As it did, he set up his screen reader so he would hopefully not start the day with more of a migraine than he already had. It took about 3 seconds for everything to turn on and settle.

Sitting down in his desk, he dismissed the notification that Remus had finished and submitted the report from their mission the day before.

A mission had been scheduled for him today, and the details were in his inbox. A piece time travel technology had been accidently dropped by an archology student in the 1890s during a trip. It was an earlier model of emergency time travel given to time travels that would dump them back into the Registration Office in the year they originated. It wasn’t extremely dangerous, but could pose some problems, especially if someone who didn’t know what it was activated it.

Surveillance agents had tracked it down and found that it had been picked up by a local and sold. Though no one from that time had known what it was, they had identified that it was made out of a precious metal and it had been crafted into an expensive necklace. Janus and Remus were supposed to retrieve it today. It had been pinpointed that the most opportune time for the extraction was 1923 during a masquerade ball held by those who had bought the necklace.

It was a fairly low stakes mission. He wasn’t set to leave for another couple of hours, so he clicked through the rest of the important notifications and then set off to meet his missions coordinator, Rhi, in her office.

Rhi and Janus got along fairly well. She was a well put together woman who took her job incredibly seriously. It was fair as her job was to organize all information and materials from every other department and make sure the agents she was assigned to got and understood all of it. A mistake from her could lead to an agent’s death or something far worse.

This, of course, made her relationship with Remus… interesting to say the least. Janus could never place whether they were nemesis, frenemies, or mortal enemies, and he doubted he would ever know.

“Okay, but it’s the 1920s America,” Remus was already in her office arguing when Janus arrived. “There were so many gangsters! I could be a gangster. I would make a fantastic gangster! Just give me a gun, a snazzy suit with a white hat, and a buttload of alcohol. I will be running Chicago with Al Capone in five minutes.”

“Al Capone didn’t become a crime boss until 1925 and you are going to 1923,” Rhi said, sounding bored, “you aren’t going to Chicago, and as I have already stated, your cover is already decided.”

“But-”

“It is nonnegotiable, Agent Clockson,” she said firmly. Remus pouted, but seemingly accepted his fate.

“May I come in?” Janus asked.

“Please do,” Rhi said. “You have been to the 1920s before, correct?” she asked Janus.

“Yes ma’am.”

She tapped the screen on her desk in response. “In the last two years?”

“About two months ago,” he responded. She tapped something else.

“Any blacks, reds, or yellows?” she asked.

“All green.”

“Great. Do you need a refresher course on basic cultural or linguistic procedures?”

“No.”

She pushed one more thing and then swiped the check-in document over to him. He glanced at the report stating he’d had no incidents of any level the last time he visited the 1920s and had opted out of the optional refresher course, and then pressed his finger against the screen to sign it with his fingerprint.

The document returned to her side of the desk automatically. “Okay,” she said swiping another document from her left over to be in front of her. She twisted her wrist to copy it and slide copies to Janus and Remus. “Here are exact details on the time, place, and event you are going to, as well as details about your cover.” Janus scrolled through his quickly. It wasn’t as detailed as some he’d had considering this was a brief in-and-out missing, but he still took care to memorize everything on the page.

As he and Remus read through their things, Rhi got to her feet and turned to the storage compartments behind her desk.

She grabbed out two packages and when they’d both signed that they’d read and understood the paperwork, she slid them across the desk to them. “These have everything you need,” she said. “Clothes, money, and an invitation to the party you’re off to attend. You are to get changed now, have a last check in with costuming to make sure everything is in order, and then report to decontamination in 23 minutes. Your set to leave in 38 minutes. Any questions?”

“How much-?” Remus started.

“None, agent,” Rhi said.

“But-”

“No alcohol,” Rhi said. “It is the prohibition era in the United States anyway.”

“Like there’s not going to be alcohol at the rich people party,” Remus said sullenly.

She pressed her lips together. “It is an in-and-out mission,” she said to both of them, and then turned to glare at Remus. “Do not get arrested.”

“I don’t know,” Remus said joyfully. “I think I still have room for a 1920s mug shot on my wall.”

“Behave,” she said, “or I’ll report you for the cat you smuggled in from the 1800s.”

“You’d never,” Remus said. “You enjoy the cute pictures of Diesel Fuel I send you every day too much, and you know it!”

“Just… don’t get arrested.” She turned to Janus. “Don’t let him get arrested.”

“I’ll do my best,” Janus promised, standing. “Now come on, Remus, we need to get changed.”

“You just want to see me naked,” Remus replied with a wink, but he did stand.

“If I see you naked one more time in my life Remus, my eyeballs will fall out of their sockets,” Janus said, waving to Rhi as he pulled Remus out of the door.

“Kinky.”

Janus’s eyeballs almost did fall out right then and there with how hard he rolled them.

They got changed quickly, Remus complaining and saying if he couldn’t dress like a gangster, he should at least be allowed to wear a flapper dress. Janus had long ago learned to ignore his ramblings. He did seem enthused about the included mask for the masquerade. It was a silver fox shaped mask with green accents that reminded Janus of the Egyptian God Anubis.

Janus’s own mask on the other hand, was only designed to take up the left half of his face. It was mostly golden with a black swirled design. Attached to the side there was a plume of golden tipped white feathers. He had to give it to the costuming department, they did have good taste.

Once they were both dressed, they were poked and prodded by one of the costumers to make sure everything was accurate, fit right, and had been put on correctly.

After that, they went to the decontamination area to have themselves and everything they were taking with them sterilized so they didn’t accidently take any pathogens to the 1920s. They also received an oral vaccination to be sure they didn’t pick up anything from the 1920s and bring it back.

Then they were ready to go. The correct time-space coordinates had already been sent to their timepieces. With a push of a button, they were off.

Inciting Incident

Chapter 3

Janus and Remus both appeared at the same moment a couple of feet apart in what looked like the inside of a garden shed. There was already a man waiting for them a few feet away. “Sup babes,” Remy said, just like he always did. The T-Agent looked their costumes up and down and whistled. “Now that,” he said, “almost makes me want to be one of you time jockeys.”

“They wouldn’t let me have a gun or a canister of moonshine,” Remus pouted.

Remy snorted. “Sorry, babes, but that makes my job a lot easier. If I’ve gotta fish you outta the 1920s criminal justice system, I’d rather it not be because you shot someone on accident ‘cause you don’t know how to use the safety.”

Remus groaned dramatically. “Everyone is lame.”

Remy just shook his head. “Meet back here when you’ve got the necklace,” he said. “Don’t make a move until after 11:05pm and before 11:17. That’s your window.”

“We know,” Janus said. “See you then.”

“Have fun at the party boys,” Remy said and then lowered his shades to look at Remus, “but not too much fun.”

“Yeah, yeah,” said Remus, already towing Janus out of the garden shed. The way had been specifically cleared for them, so they met no other people before they’d rounded the house the party was taking place and had gotten onto the driveway in front of the house.

Without missing a beat, they strolled up to the front of the house, just as a car pulled into the end of the driveway. Janus rang the doorbell, and a few moments later, a man who was clearly the butler answered the door. They handed over their invitation, and the man immediately let them in.

The party had already started when they slipped into the medium sized ballroom that had been decked out in streamers and other decorations. Janus’s nose immediately wanted to scrunch as the smell of sweat from all the dancing already going on as well as the too strong perfume meant to cover that stench wafted over him. It was by far not the worst smelling time period, but he was pretty sure some people still weren’t aware deodorant had been recently invented.

He checked his time piece which had been disguised as a fancy wristwatch for this trip. “Okay,” he said. “We have about two hours before we need to make our move. We should…”

Remus’s attention was already being dragged away by a young man who seemed to be providing guests with food. “I’m going to go ‘mingle’,” he said, winking.

“No!” Janus hissed. “Re- Richard! No!��

Yet, he was already disappearing into the horde of stinky bodies, likely to go scandalize a bunch of rich folks, and leaving Janus alone. Janus mumbled a curse under his breath that he was sure no one around him would understand even if they could make it out.

Unsure what to do with himself, he wandered over towards where the live musicians were playing jazz music, being sure to keep out of the way of the dancers. He was edging around the makeshift dancefloor, when one of said dancers must have misstepped and knocked into another one. The second man stumbled right towards Janus, arms pinwheeling. Janus reached out on instinct to catch the man as he fell.

There was a moment where the two of them just stared at each other, surprise evident on the other man’s face. He was wearing a mask that just covered the area around his eyes and the top of his nose, revealing a smattering of freckles across his cheeks that Janus imagined extended to his nose.

The mask was a light blue velvet with a flower stuck on the side near his right ear, and a trail of curled golden ribbon bobbed down around his chin. The party continued on around them, a blur of movement and sound.

“Are you alright?” Janus asked.

The man blinked up at him and then tilted his head slightly to the side as though confused, before a smile slowly grew on his face. “Oh, I’m fine Dove.”

“Dove?” Janus asked.

He giggled. “You have dove feathers on your mask,” he explained, reaching up a hand to touch one. His finger brushed the tip of Janus’s ear, “and I don’t know what else I am supposed to call you.”

“My name is Lee,” he automatically lied.

“Is it?” he asked, sounding amused. “Doesn’t seem to fit you well. I like Dove better.”

“Oh?” asked Janus. “And what’s your name so I can not call you that?”

The man chuckled. “Call me Pat.”

“Hello Pat,” Janus said.

“I thought you didn’t want to call me by my name.”

“I changed my mind.”

“Hmmm,” Pat said, finger tracing idly across Janus’s forearm which was when Janus realized with a start that he was still holding the man in his arms. He quickly went to release him, which Pat allowed with clear amusement.

Yet, instead of completely stepping away, Pat grabbed Janus’s arm. “What are you doing all the way over here by the way?” he asked. “Don’t you want to dance.”

“Oh,” Janus hesitated. “I don’t really dance.” Or at least not in the way the people around him were. He’d had basic training for this style, but it had been a while and he was a bit rusty.

“Everyone dances Dove,” Pat claimed. “At least if they know the steps and have the right partner.”

“But I don’t know the steps,” Janus said with an eyebrow raise.

He hummed. “Well, I know the dance pretty well by this point,” Pat said. “Why don’t I teach you how it goes.”

He was agreeing with the soft beseeching tone before he even realized it. Pat pulled him into the middle of the throng of people. He seemed to think, bopping his head to the music playing for a moment, before looking back at Janus. “Heard of James Johnson?”

Janus inclined his head.

“Well, have you heard his new song? Because there’s a dance that goes with it.”

He took a few steps away from Janus and started to dance. Despite his claim to know the steps, he wasn’t particularly good, but he made up for any loss of rhythm with pure enthusiasm.

Janus found himself smiling at the man, and after a few moments, joined in with the dance. Despite his lack of practice, he ended up having a better natural rhythm than Pat. Pat didn’t seem to mind that he was being outperformed, however. On the contrary, he giggled at himself the couple of times he stumbled.

When he fell into Janus’s arms for the second time that night, Janus decided he’d probably had enough dancing for the moment and pulled him off to the side to get something to drink and cool down a bit.

He watched the man take a snack and some punch from one of servers and thank him happily before turning back to Janus. Pat was easily able to keep Janus’s attention as they chatted. He was bubbly and soft, and Janus found himself enchanted as they talked.

He was explaining the steps of a different dance, a couples one. “Knowing how to perform the tango will entrance any girl you want,” Pat said, something mischievous sparkling in his eyes. “Assuming you’re that type of fella.”

“As opposed to what?” Janus asked.

Pat leaned in a bit closer. Not too much, but enough that he was definitely in Janus’s space. “A different type of fella,” he said simply, before smiling and leaning back.

Janus let out a shaky exhale and took a sip of punch. He glanced over at Pat. “Tell me about yourself, Pat,” he said.

Pat hummed in contemplation. “Well, I went to France recently.”

“You did?”

“Oui, c'était amusant, mais j'ai eu des ennuis”

“What kind of trouble?” Janus asked curiously.

“Oh, the kind with a pretty boy and crepes that were way too sweet. Anyway,” he continued. “Other than that, I mostly help out my friend. He’s an inventor.”

“And how do you help him.”

He shrugged, “Running errands mostly, and making sure he gets enough sleep, because otherwise he gets distracted and forgets. And you?”

“I’m a banker,” he said, remembering his cover, but felt compelled to add, “but I like to travel as well.”

“You do look the type?”

“And how is that?”

Pat shrugged. “I can always tell a wandering spirt from the masses, and you are easy to spot.” Pat looked at him then with a secret smile on his face, and Janus felt suddenly known, like the man in front of him had known him for years even though they’d only just met. Looking at him then, he wanted suddenly for that to be fact and not a flight of fancy.

He was brought firmly back to reality in the next moment. “Lee,” a pointed and familiar voice said. Janus’s head snapped up to see Remus, staring at him. He tapped his wrist. Janus glanced at his own wrist: 10:58pm. He just barely managed not to curse.

“I,” he said looking up at Pat. “I’m sorry, but I have to go.”

“That’s okay,” Pat said easily. “It is getting rather late.”

“Yes,” Janus agreed. “Well… goodbye.”

Pat, titled his head, a half smile on his face. “I’ll be seeing you around.”

Janus nodded, and turned away from him towards Remus. He didn’t look back as they excited the ballroom. They snuck into a small side closet for coats that wasn’t being used as it was summer.

“So,” Remus said when the door closed behind them.

“Don’t,” warned Janus.

“I’m not one to judge,” Remus said.

“Shut up.” He glanced at his watch. It was 11:02. “We’ll go in 5.”

“I have to give it to you. He was very cute.”

“We’re not talking about it.”

Remus just laughed joyfully, and Janus did his best to halt the blood rushing to his cheeks.

At 11:07, well into their window, they slipped back out of the closet, and towards the stairs as the party raged on.

Despite how Remus usually never shut up, he was able to be quiet when it counted. They snuck to the master bedroom of the home’s owners in silence. The door was already wide open by the time they got there, and Janus didn’t think anything of it. At least, he didn’t until they entered the bedroom, and there was someone already there.

He turned from the dresser he’d been standing in front of to face them, sending Janus the same smile he had down in the ballroom. Janus and Remus both froze. “Sorry, sweetie,” Pat said. “Were you here for this too?” he held up the necklace they’d been sent for. He closed his fist around the charm made out of time travel tech.

“What?” Janus said.

Pat giggled and winked. “Unfortunately, I need it a bit more than you at the moment. So, I’m gonna have to go.” Janus stepped forward, not really sure what he was intending to do, but Pat just smiled. “See you some other time, my Turtle Dove.” With a snap of his fingers and loud crack, he disappeared. The mask he’d been wearing fluttered to the ground.

Arc I: Finding Cinderella

Chapter 4

Janus was frozen in surprise for a few long moments after Pat disappeared. Which had been, admittedly, his mistake, because, while their window had technically been until 11:17pm and it was only 11:10, the loud crack that whatever Pat had been using for time travel made, garnered the attention of someone else.

“Uh oh,” Remus said, likely hearing footsteps. “Hide.”

That snapped Janus into action, but instead of hiding immediately like a sensible human being, he chose to go for the only link to the man who’d just stolen time travel tech and waltzed away, the mask.

Which was why he ended up getting arrested.

Remy tsked the moment they were all alone in the police car having come to ‘transfer Lee to another facility.’ Remus was already waiting in the front seat, and flashed Janus a smug smile. If Janus wasn’t still handcuffed, he’d slap him.

“Well,” Remy said. “At least you didn’t shoot anybody like I asked. I was joking by the way. I didn’t really want to pick you up from a 1920s police station period.”

“It wasn’t my fault.”

“Mmm, nah, ‘cause Remus managed to not get arrested this time, so you defiantly screwed something up.”

“Oh, he defiantly wanted to screw something all right,” Remus said joyfully.

“Remus,” Janus hissed.

“What?” he asked. “I’m not the horny one for once. Well, no, that’s a lie, but it didn’t affect the job this time.”

Janus groaned and leaned his head back against the seat.

Remy pulled into a seemingly random garage around 20 minutes later. “Alright,” he said. “Here we are.” He got out of the car and then helped Janus out before uncuffing him. “Here’s your ‘watch,’” Remy handed him the timepiece that had been confiscated when he’d been arrested.

Janus put it on and activated it. “Shit,” he said.

“What?” Remus asked.

“An appointment with cultural outreach has already been downloaded to my calendar for once we get out of decon.”

“Oof. Going to baby jail,” Remy laughed. Remus was cackling.

“This,” Janus said, “was not a cultural faux pas. I did nothing that indicated that I was not from this time. I am not some rookie.”

“Don’t forget cell phones don’t exist in the 1920s,” Remus sang.

“The real question is whether or not my foot exists in your…” Remus disappeared before he could finish, a smirk on his face. Janus growled. “By Remy,” he gritted out. He selected the decontamination chamber from his queue, ignoring the appointment that came after it for now.

He knew exactly where Remus would be standing when he landed, which was why he stepped forward on reentry to ram into him.

He yelped in surprise. “Sorry,” Janus said pleasantly. “I must have also forgotten landing procedures.

Remus laughed good naturally. “Aw, come on Jay,” he said, bumping Janus back, albeit much gentler than Janus had been. “It’s not a big deal. You just go talk with some crusty old college professor who is far too interested in spoons and then everything’s fine.”

“It’s the principle of the thing,” he growled. “They’re treating me like I’m an idiot who accidently invented disco in the 1920s when I was conned by some free agent time traveler.”

“‘Conned,’ Remus said. Is that what they’re calling it now?”

“I know where and when you live Remus,” Janus said.

Remus gave him a dopey smile as the decontamination cycle finished and the door unlocked. Janus’s wrist buzzed telling him that the coordinates to the cultural outreach office were now unlocked. Instead of pulling them up, Janus walked to the door.

“Um,” Remus said, following him. “Aren’t you supposed to be going to your appointment?” Janus just kept walking towards their office. “Uh… Jan?”

“It’s absolutely ridiculous that I have to go to cultural outreach,” Janus said. “In fact, no one can make me. If they want me to go have a discussion about the definition of ‘bushwa,’ they’re going to have to have me dragged there.”

“Mmm, I feel like The Boss won’t be too happy about that, and I have a feeling she’d be 100% down to dragging you there herself.”

“Well, then, let her,” Janus said, stalking through the door to his office. “I’m not going to…”

“Ah, Agent Picani,” the woman standing next to his desk, clearly waiting for him, said when he came through the door. “Dr. Picani was informed that there were complications with your last mission and wishes to have a conversation with you and asks that you meet him in his office at the AMO.”

“Oh, um,” Janus said, stumbling a bit before plastering on a regretful half smile. “Unfortunately, I actually have an appointment right now at Cultural Outreach. It’s mandatory and very important, and I have to go now. So, I’ll have to take a raincheck on that.”

“But-” she started, frowning.

“Remus, work on the report!” Janus said quickly as he waved his hand to bring up his timepiece display and jammed his finger at the glowing appointment card in his queue. A few moments later, Janus was at Cultural Outreach.

Cultural Outreach was not part of the TPI, though it often worked very closely with them. It was a collaboration between the government and multiple universities to help government workers, politicians, and other citizens understand and bridge cultural gaps. It had existed before time travel was invented but had expanded to also teach people who needed to time travel how to behave in unfamiliar times and cultures.

After it had to be expanded to provide for the TPI, it had been moved to Silver Mountains University. The building had once just been a museum, but it had been thoroughly renovated and there had been add-ons for office space and some classrooms. It was still a museum, however, its purpose had expanded greatly and there were many areas that were off limits to the general public.

One of these areas was the fourth floor, where Janus’s timepiece had dumped him. This was the floor that was almost exclusively for TPI agents and staff of Cultural Outreach who worked with them.

He immediately turned away from the reception area, hoping that he could escape and go sit on the university’s quad or something of the like for the next hour or so in hopes the woman his brother sent to fetch him would give up and go back to the AMO. Yet, the receptionist apparently saw him.

“Janus Picani?” he asked.

Janus grimaced and turned back towards him. “Yes,” he said.

“Is something wrong?” he asked. “You’re 5 minutes late for your appointment and seem disoriented.

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Is your timepiece malfunctioning?”

“No.”

“Uh… okay. Well, if you sign in here, I can take you to your appointment.”

“…Fine.”

He begrudgingly stepped forward and touched the screen he’d gestured to sign with his fingerprint, and then let the man lead him down the hall.

The door they stopped at was propped open slightly, but he still paused and knocked. “Professor Eran? Your 2:30 is here.”

Janus had just a moment upon hearing the name to think that maybe there was actually some sort of intelligent design of the universe and whatever being of ultimate power had crafted it was a dick.

The door opened and Virgil Eran’s eyes immediately narrowed on him. “Janus.”

“Virgil.”

“I see you’re still late for everything.”

“I see you’re still a bastard.”

Janus saw the receptionist slowly back away in the direction they’d come.

“Why don’t you come in?” Virgil said faux pleasantly.

Janus did, because he really didn’t have much of a choice at this point unless he wanted to jump out of a window… or push someone out of a window.

Virgil turned back into his office and took a seat behind his desk. Janus unhappily followed him in and sat across from him.

He took his time pulling up whatever the TPI sent him and reading it over. “So, I see you failed your recovery mission and were arrested in 1923.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Janus said. “I shouldn’t be here.”

Virgil gave him that same suspicious look he used to give Janus whenever Janus claimed to have not eaten his hot pockets out of the freezer in the middle of the night. He’d only been lying 80% of the time. Virgil had a tendency to forget what he’d eaten in a half-conscious state at 3 o’clock in the morning.

“I shouldn’t,” Janus snapped defensively. “Nothing went wrong with anyone from the time period. An illegal time traveler screwed up the mission details.”

“Well, it is still protocol to make sure nothing slipped when agents go off script. You weren’t prepared to be in a jail cell, and it is possible that you screwed something up.”

“I didn’t screw anything up,” Janus growled.

“Alright,” Virgil said pulling up a document on his desk. “The mission started on July 27th, 1923 at 9:58pm, correct?”

“Oh, god, we’re not really going to fill out a time sheet. I don’t have time for that today.”

“It is protocol and best that the information is documented when it is still fresh in your mind. Besides, your schedule has been cleared for the rest of the workday.” The bastard was enjoying this. He knew how much Janus hated this stuff.

“I didn’t do anything wrong,” Janus said, “it was the damned illicit time traveler.”

“And I will be the judge of that,” Virgil said. Janus should have just bit the bullet and had coffee with his brother. “If you truly did nothing wrong, your supervisor will see that when I send this to her.”

Yet, despite the fact that Virgil clearly relished in his suffering, he was charitable enough to do most of the actual filling out of the forms. He’d read out the questions and write down what Janus said instead of making him do it himself. Janus really only had to do a quick quality check and sign it at the end.

He still was an asshole about the details, but really he’d been like that about stupid thing like the settings for the dish washer and how the pantry was organized during their college days before they’d had their falling out, so Janus wasn’t particularly surprised. When they were finally done, Virgil sent it off to get filed by the TPI.

Then, they were left staring at each other with nothing between them but almost a decade of radio silence and a whole lot of awkwardness.

“I should go,” Janus finally said, standing up.

Virgil tilted his head slightly to the side and gave him a half smile. “Don’t lock the door behind you,” he said. “Not that I’d expect you too.”

Janus took it for the clear attempt at a joke it was intended to be and puffed out a breath of amusement with a head shake. “No risk of that,” he said. Then, he turned and walked out of the office.

Chapter 5

Janus stepped back into the reception area and booted up his time piece. Instinct said to go back to the office despite the fact that it was late enough that most people had gone home, but he hesitated. Surely Emile had given up by now, but considering he’d sent someone to ambush him in his office, Janus wasn’t sure if he should trust that. He could just go home, but he already knew his mind was racing too much to sleep tonight so he’d probably just end up staring at the lake for the next 6 hours. So, he decided on the only other legitimate option he had. He pulled up Remus’s home coordinates and selected.

The home that Remus had chosen (after his long line of rejected requests) managed to somehow make no and absolute sense simultaneously to anyone who knew him. It was a small farm in the United States just west of the Mississippi in 1842 in what would be ratified as the state of Iowa in a few years. When asked why he would choose that time and place, Remus always responded with “I thought it was funny,” whatever that meant.

Unlike most time agents who simply used the identities assigned to them by the AMO as a cover, Remus actually lived his part time.

Janus was… fairly certain he was cheating a bit to get everything done, but he maintained his small farm all on his own, growing most of his own food. The neighbors he had lived very far away, but he still spoke with them far more than Janus did his own.

Janus appeared inside the small home, his eyes already shut. “Are you hear and dressed?” Janus called. Something bumped lightly into his legs.

“I’m in the kitchen!”

Janus peaked his eyes open and squatted to pet the cat at his feet. “That doesn’t answer my question!” he called back to Remus.

“It’s a surprise!” Remus said.

“Remus.” Diesel Fuel the cat flopped to her side on the ground as Janus continued to pet her ears. He heard Remus’s footsteps, and saw cloth covering his legs, so risked looking up. He was currently not only dressed, but wearing an apron that Janus was fairly sure was not time appropriate judging by the fabric and cat pawprint design. He had a bit of flour on his hands, and it may have been a bit too white for the time and place, but Janus couldn’t be completely sure.

“What’re you doing here?” Remus asked.

“My day has been an endless series of frustrations,” Janus said. “So, I have come to see the only tolerable being in the history of the universe.”

Remus snorted. “Since I know that isn’t me, I’ll assume you’re talking about the cat.”

“I still don’t understand why you tolerate this creature,” Janus addressed Diesel Fuel. She blinked slowly up at him. “To be fair, he was assigned as my partner. I didn’t have much of a choice in it. You could go always run away and become feral in the woods if you’d like.”

“So could you, technically,” Remus pointed out.

“I’m thinking about it after today.”

“Would you like some bread?” Remus asked. “That’s all I’ve been making this afternoon. Some fresh should be coming out of the oven in a few minutes.”

“Do you have anything stronger made out of wheat?”

“Ew, no, but I do have vodka.”

“Vodka works.”

“Want me to mix it with something?”

“No.”

“One of those night then,” Remus said, easily. “Let me finish up the bread, so I don’t burn the kitchen down. You can go get the alcohol from the cellar while you wait if you want, or you can just flop down on the couch.”

He was going to just flop down on the couch.

#study break stories #not writing

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1-800-seo · 4 years

Text

1-800-𝗦𝗘𝖮'𝘀 𖣘 "𝗬𝗼𝘂'𝗿𝗲 𝗺𝘆 (𝗨𝗻𝗶)𝘃𝗲𝗿𝘀𝗲"

- 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝖩𝗎𝗇𝗀𝗄𝗈𝗈𝗄 𝗑 𝖸/𝖭

- 𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: 𝖿𝗅𝗎𝖿𝖿/𝗌𝗅𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝖼𝗄/𝖻𝗎𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗍𝖾𝖽/𝖾2𝗅/𝖼𝗈𝗅𝗅𝖾𝗀𝖾 𝖠𝖴

- 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗄𝗂𝗌𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 (𝖺 𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗉𝗅𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝗄𝗂𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗌), 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗁𝖺𝗍𝖾𝗌 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒, 𝖽𝗈𝗆!𝗃𝗄 𝗂𝖿 𝗎 𝗌𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗍, 𝖾𝗇𝖾𝗆𝗂𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗅𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌

- 𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 2984

- 𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗅𝖺𝗎𝗇𝖽𝗋𝗒 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗆𝗂𝗑𝖾𝖽 𝗎𝗉 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾'𝗌 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗈𝖿 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗐𝗁𝗂𝗍𝖾'𝗌 𝗀𝗈 𝗉𝗂𝗇𝗄, 𝖺 𝗀𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗍 𝗋𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗀𝖾 𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗍 𝖾𝗇𝗌𝗎𝖾𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖾𝗇𝖺𝗆𝗈𝗎𝗋𝖾𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝗇𝗈𝗒𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖽𝗈𝗋𝗄.

doing laundry is absolutely one of your least favourite things in the world beside soggy socks

so you’re in a bad mood as soon as you walk into the campus launderette to say the least

the launderette is empty bar one dude you’d seen around the global technics centre

if you remember rightly he’s a European studies major

odd choice but you do you and all that

now you’re not weird or anything but you have a preference on what type of washing machine you use

I know I know kind of unorthodox

but the old washing machines take 30 mins longer so you’d prefer a newer one

unfortunately the only one left is directly next to this familiar-faced stranger and his laundry

your better judgement is telling you no but your impatience is telling you yes

and so you dump your laundry onto the floor next to the stranger and his and start sorting through for all your whites

your piles mingle a tad as they overlap beside each other like Venn diagrams of assorted underwear and other garments

his consisting of only whites

yours a jumbled mess since you had to wash all of your stuff

in sync you both pick up your washing and put it into the machine

you catch his dark wide eyes as you both straighten up and he lets out an awkward low-voiced giggle

your cheeks immediately flush pink and a bashful smile creeps up to your lips

“you’re from the global centre, right?”

you ask testing the waters

“I am, I’m a European studies major, my name’s Jungkook. I recognise you, you’re in linguistics class right?”

“Yeah, I’m a linguistics major so you’ll mostly see me there, it’s nice to meet you Jungkook”

you say with a smile as your hands fidget with the door handle of the washing machine

“It’s nice to meet you too, I thought I recognised you from somewhere, but it’s because I see you sometimes when I have to do extra credit European language projects. What’s your name?”

he says tilting his head like a curious puppy

“its ______”

you say as you bow to him politely

“Can I ask you something? I have to do a project on European languages and their similarities to others. The professor wants us to speak to outsiders for references so would I be able to collab on a project with you sometime in the future, if it’s not too much to ask?”

he averts his eyes from yours and blushes lightly

“Oh yeah sure, that’s no issue! It’ll be beneficial to me too because the linguistics portion of the course is coming up soon, so it’s a great idea.”

you beam at him

“Could I get your number?”

their is a pause that feels like an eternity between your next words and his last

the cause of this is your mind being far too focused on his wavy dark hair and his clear doe eyes

you snap out of your daze

“yeah totally, one sec”

you pull out your phone from your backpack on top of the washing machine and input his contact name and number as he reads it out

“Thanks for that, it’ll be a big help, let me know when you want to link up” he replies

and with that you had his number and continued on with your washing

21/10 18:32

Jungkook ༄ : not to be accusatory but do you happen to own a pair of RED socks?

You: yes, why do you ask??

Jungkook ༄ : well ALL of my washing seems to be PINK!!

You: just because I own a pair of red socks doesn’t mean it was me 😠

Jungkook ༄ : yes but you were the only one in the launderette when I was there,,

Jungkook ༄ : smh gonna be turning up to class in pink tshirts and and socks, everyone be thinking ive made a new fashion choices when it’s really just because SOMEONE can’t keep their clothes separate from others B/

You: 1) it’s not my fault that my socks decided to migrate to new lands

You: 2) why, are you scared of pink or something? your ego too fragile to wear a ‘woman’s colour’?

You: 3) did you really use a sunglasses sad face emoticon lol

Jungkook ༄ : girl u owe me big time for all these clothes you ruined 😩

Jungkook ༄ : also im not scared of pink I just dont want to be wearing pink shirts to all of my formal events for the next ten years

Jungkook ༄ : and yes im sWaG so my emoticons are sWaG duh

You : ruined? ruINED? RUINED? I did not ruin anything, I simply spiced up your wardrobe boo x

You : oh no he’s a 2012 hype beast 🤦🏻‍♀️

Jungkook ༄ : how dare you call me something so sacreligious as a hypebeast!!

Jungkook ༄ : I am gucci not channel thank you very much

Jungkook ༄ : anyways I gtg write a report, speak soon red socks

Seen ✓

Jungkook was in fact not writing a report

he was planning revenge dun dun dun~~~

his plan was to do the exact same thing you had done to him

but he had to be cunning about it

and so the week went on

he was scrolling through twt when he received a new follower

it was the one and only @_______

and lo and behold their last tweet was “tysm Seokjin oppa for buying me a personal washing machine,, now I can do my most hated thing but at home!!”

hehehe

an idea sprung into kookie’s head

he didn’t have to try and spike your washing at the launderette

he could do it in a place you’d never suspect,, your home

now he only had to find out where you lived

just stalkerish tingz

he had to be lowkey about this

so he decided to ask his best mate and social butterfly of a friend Taehyung whether he knew you

and of course he did lol

“Hell yeah I know where she lives, she had the best party of the whole term, Jimin was so drunk he started chatting himself up in the mirror”

“Damn that sounds like a good time, probs should start going to these parties you invite me to”

“defo should, anyways I’ll tell u as long as you promise not to spread the information or use it for pervy or questionable reasons”

“I promise not to spread it or use it for pervy or questionable reasons”

he replies in monotone voice and his hand on his chest like an oath

and so that was how he acquired your address

simple enough really

and so that’s the events that lead him to be crawling through your dorm window however paused like a deer in headlights at the questionable sounds coming from the room across

he was squatted on the window ledge like spider man, red sock in hand and hood up

it was 9:00pm and your university apartment was supposed to be empty at this time

you had your class on now but he hadn’t accounted for your roommate

hence why he had frozen at the unsavoury sounds echoing round the apartment

low moans and grunts emanated from the room across

dEsGöStEn

he had to get to the kitchen without alerting the dusk time love makers

he could do it if the floor plan was the same as his apartment block and he bet his reputation on that

if he got caught he’d never hear the end of it from his mates and your roommate might even call the campus police if they were spooked enough

and so he clambered through your bedroom window and onto your bed underneath

unmade bed might he add but what did he expect from a uni student

with wide eyes he listened for any noise of suspecting roommates and examined your room

the desk was littered with papers and an oversized lava lamp stood stout in the corner of the room

a lacy bra was hung over your wardrobe handle

he shoved away the idea of you wearing it and continued with his night time plot

slowly and stealthily he crept through the halls of the apartment and out to the kitchen

on the maiden was already a neatly hung load of whites

he’d have to assume it was yours otherwise he’d have to go back to your room to get laundry

he bundled up the clothes and shoved them in the washing machine with the incriminating red sock he’d brought and set it to economy spin

round and round it spun, getting progressively louder as it went

he had to get out of there asap

tip-toeing as he went past the questionable lewd noises, he finally made it to your bedroom

he made one last check to see if he’d left any damage in your room

his eyes fell upon that same bra

damn his manhood making him think predictably

he shoved the thought away and departed

25/10 22:08

You: what in the hell did you do to my washing!!!?!!!

You: unless it was a ghost it HAD TO BE YOU JEON 🤬

Jungkook ༄ : wym I don’t even know where you live 😑

Jungkook ༄ : what’ve you done now?

You: IT HAS TO BE YOU!! SOMEONE FRIGGIN TURNED MY WASHING PINK AND I PROMISE YOU IT WASNT ME

Jungkook ༄ : how would i do that?? I don’t have like magic clothes dyeing skills boo

You: I SWEAR it was you!!

You: what do you want to bet it was u

Jungkook ༄ : I won’t bet anything I’m poor

You: that means you did it!

Jungkook ༄ : if you come with me to Taehyung’s party tomorrow I’ll tell u everything

Jungkook ༄ : but only if you go, that’s the terms of agreement

You: that’s all the incriminating evidence I need!! you basically just admitted to it you know?

You: however for reasons sake I will attend 👀

Jungkook ༄ : see you then red socks x

You: I suppose u will x

time passed quickly and soon it was Taehyung’s party

You’d known Taehyung since middle school however since starting college you hadn’t seen much of him

schedules clashed often so the only time you got to see him was at a good party

nothing wrong with that, you just probably haven’t had a completely sober conversation with him in 2 years

he’s good fun, Taehyung, so you hoped Jungkook wasn’t as much as a killjoy as he’d been this week

his little antics (that you’d yet to figure out) had caused your work uniform to turn bright pink

and thus the ‘pink princess’ nickname at work began

you felt like sharpay, everyone in white, but you pink

you’d quite like to knock Jungkook down a peg after that

and so you made your way to the infamous Taehyung’s party

he welcomed you as you entered the large door of his fraternity house

behind his head of black curls you could see the mess that is a raging college party

young people, at assumably different levels of intoxication, were everywhere

some were stood all the way up the expanse of the stairs even

you looked around and spotted a familiar brunette in the kitchen sat on the large marble counter tops

he’s chatting to some pink haired girl beside him

you stalk up to him like a woman on a mission and jokingly (a little too hard for jokingly) push his shoulders with both hands

he immediately snaps his head round to face you and his eyes widen with shock

“I have a bone to pick with you.” you say as stern as you can

you grab hold a fistful of his black T-shirt and drag him into a side room

once you enter only then do you realise it’s a laundry room

how fitting 👀

you say “Come on, tell me how you did it.” as you cross your arms and glare at him

“Did what?”

“you know what I mean, don’t play dumb with me, how did you turn all of my washing pink, and might I add, my work uniform too!”

“Ohhh that, it was far too easy. You really should keep your windows locked when you’re out.” he says as he laughs, like the whole thing is amusing

“So you’re telling me you broke into my apartment?! How did u know where I live??”

at this point you’re pacing around the room, arms flailing wide at the sudden discovery

“Well, I may or may not have asked Taehyung, and he told me, and then I entered, I did not break into your apartment. Anyway, I didn’t touch anything but the washing machine and I had the lovely experience of being serenaded by your roommate’s sex symphony.”

he made a step forward towards you, almost in a challenging way

“Oh I’ll be having harsh words with him later...” you say as you uncross your arms and put them on your hips.

you stand thinking for a second before it sinks in

“Wait.. what did you hear? You said sex symphony, right?”

“Uh yeah, your roommate was proper going at it with someone. At least he had the decency to do it whilst you were out, I guess.” He chuckled

“Oh my days, that means Hobi must’ve had Hyerim round! Go him I guess, but also ewww”

“Anyways we’ve bounced around the issue enough here, you ruined my clothes and broke into my apartment!” you exclaim backing up against the wall

Jungkook starts to close the gap between you two

“So? What’re you going to do about?”

your back pressed flush with the wall, you start to realise how close he really is

you can see the small freckles that dot the bridge of his nose, the thick eyelashes that frame his eyelids, the totally sinful look in his eyes

like this you start to realise how shockingly handsome he is

no wonder he has a slight reputation in class

you had no idea why he was looking at you this way

“I-I’ll call campus security..” You begin

“Will you really now?” he retorts as he slams his hand into the wall behind you, caging you in

“I w-will” a whisper that falls on deaf ears

before you even register, his lips have attached themselves to yours and you feel his thumb under your jaw

he works his lips against yours and you feel your legs start to tremble

he tastes sweet and robust, like syrup on your tastebuds

you mould into his kiss and then break away, panting for air, wanting more

everything felt so wrong, yet so right at the same time

it was as if your current issue had melted away and the only thing you could focus on was the way he looked at you and how his soft lips felt against yours

“J-Jungkook? What’re we doing?” you asked, a giggle leaving you

you rest your head against chest, clasping at his tshirt

“I couldn’t resist, you’re so hot when you’re angry”

he places a firm kiss against your cheek, takes your hand in his, and leads you back to the party

you couldn’t believe you’d just done that, let him kiss you so easily

but once you let him, it felt so right, like it was supposed to be that way, him lapping you up like a parched man to water

it felt so natural to have his arm round your waist like it was now

the pair of you approached Taehyung, still clutched together

“What happened to you two? I heard _____ went off on one and then you both were missing for ages. And now you both show up all over each other... what went down 👀”

“Well you know, hate and love are both forms of passion.” Jungkook says with a smirk

“excuse me? Assuming I love you? I let you kiss me once and you say it’s love? I’ll show you love” you retort

“Oooh she’s feisty; so you kissed? Damn, things’re moving quickly for you two, one minute Jungkook’s asking me for your address, the next you’re sucking each other’s faces off. I’m one of hell of a wing man, if I do say so myself.”

Taehyung flips an imaginary lock of hair out of his way like a sassy high school cheerleader

You both just laugh, at Taehyung, and because of how crazy it is,

It’s almost like you didn’t know you liked him like that until it smacked you in the face

“Do you want a drink? A beer?” Jungkook asks pouring himself a glass of punch

“That’d be great, thank you” you reply as you realise how much more time you want to spend with this annoying but totally handsome dork of a boy

༄ 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗇𝗄 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗈 𝗆𝗎𝖼𝗁 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝗂𝗇𝗀! ༄

This was just a little fic I wrote a while ago which had formatting errors so I fixed it for y’alI, Hope you enjoyed it ☺️ Let me know what you thought of it and feel free to like and reblog <3

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prof-inez-thompson · 3 years

Text

mother tongue prologue

Because I’m genuinely really excited about this series here is the little prologue that I shared with Tori ( aka @fandomsandxfiles-writes who i love very much and thank you for basically being my beta reader for this series)!! Anyway just a bit of background: the series is set in LA, my OFC is Maria Inez, she’s a professor at a small women’s college (my inspiration and reference is Scripps College), and during the war she worked as a code breaker/linguist.

ENJOY :) and this is my first OC fic whatsoever so i would greatly appreciate any comments/feedback and let me know if you want to be tagged

crossposted on AO3

The ringing sound threw her for a loop as she found herself back in the offices that she once considered a safe haven only for them to now house her nightmares. One after another, they set the bells off in her head as she tried to come back into her body. What was she doing? Her hands at first seemed preoccupied with the typewriter sitting in front of her, only for it to slowly disappear. With each ring, the sound got louder and louder as if it were telling her Maria, answer the phone. But… where was it? Her body seemed to guide her to where the phone used to sit, only for nothing to be there- and yet, she knew that the phone was ringing. She felt herself going in circles trying to find it, and when she felt her fingers wrap around the receiver, she found herself sitting up in her bed.

Feeling around, she reached her night table and quickly turned on the small lamp resting on it, only to realize that the ringing wasn’t from her dream- it was from her phone. Every nerve in her body was on its ends as her brain tried to wrap itself around the fact that someone was calling her at- her eyes shifted towards her watch, 2:00 am- but before the last ring sounded she brought the receiver up to her ear.

“Miss Inez,” a soft yet slightly gruff voice was on the other end of the phone- she knew that voice, but her brain couldn’t seem to process whose voice it was.

“Si, quién está preguntando?” Maria hadn’t even realized that she was speaking in her mother tongue- all she knew was that someone was on the other side of that call.

“Miss Inez, it's Daniel Sousa,” there was a pause as if he were waiting for some sort of response from her only for him to continue, “I know it’s pretty early, but we could use your help on a case. Can I send someone to pick you up in say a half hour?”

Maria mulled over the request in her head. She never had any grievances toward Chief Sousa, but usually he would approach her when she was in her classroom or the small room in the library she declared her office, never at her home- and never this early.

Clearing her throat, “Si, eso es- hay perdoname- I’m sorry, yes that works.”

Daniel chuckled softly at her mix of tongues, slowly getting used to it, even if he didn’t fully understand what she said, “Great. Jack Thompson will be coming by in a bit,” there was a bit of background noise only for Daniel to come up and confirm the time with her once again.

Maria set the receiver back down and tested the name of the person who would be coming, Jack Thompson, not a bad name- it seemed to roll off her tongue like honey, something that didn’t usually happen with names in English. As she made herself somewhat decent for a very early morning appearance, she repeated the name in her head.

Jack Thompson.

Jack. Thompson.

Jack Thompson.

Yes, it was a nice name she decided- Maria only hoped as her watch showed that the time was 2:30 that the person who had that name was as kind as Daniel, only to find that she was sorely mistaken.

Si, quién está preguntando?: yes, who is asking?

Si, eso es- hay perdoname-: yes, that is- oh forgive me/sorry

#prof Inez Thompson #the agent and the professor #jack thompson #jack thompson series #jack thompson x ofc #jack thompson x maria inez #jack thompson x oc #prof Maria Inez #remmys writings

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artificialqueens · 3 years

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Sanctuary (Jalaska) - Grinder

AN: Wow…been a hot minute since I posted anything to AQ. Currently working on a series but decided I should give myself a wee break and write something else. This is a songfic based on Sanctuary by Joji whom I absolutely adore. And, who knows, maybe I’ll write more Joji inspired fics and make it a collection. Anyway, I hope y'all enjoy! Stay safe!

Lots of love to all the discord people for helping me with this and, especially @artificialeevee and V. If anyone of you are thinking about joining the server, do it!

The year is 9872. And I’ve fucking had it.

The name’s Jinkx Monsoon; intergalactically tolerated American space Historian, a linguist of 3 human languages, and 4 alien languages.

Location: Space somewhere.

I have a question; Is it wrong to destroy the only housekeeper on your ship, an AI bot whose sole purpose is to clean and only clean? It’s nothing personal against the bot. It’s just…the thought of thriving as a glamorous space housewife for an hour or two is very appealing to me at this moment.

You see, life on the Sanctuary ship isn’t exactly exciting anymore.

Dumb name. The place is anything but a sanctuary. Ivy and I just call it ‘Big Debbie.’

Speaking of Ivy, she’s fallen asleep at the wheel again. Yes, this has happened before—a few times. The first time, we all had a laugh about it. The second time, we joked about how it was becoming a habit. But the third time, it was starting to kind of get on the Captain’s nerves.

The ship has been spinning in slow circles for half an hour now. Shea storms in, flicks Ivy in the ear, waking her up. I breathe a laugh out of my nostrils as Ivy rolls her eyes. The ship stops spinning and is back on course. Destination? Nowhere.

I notice how Shea looks at me now as I sit my feet up on the controls. She looks like she wants to say something. But what is there to even say? She shares my exact thought and leaves the room.

I look at Ivy as she types away on her keyboard, a bowl of yogurt in my hand, cold spoon in the other. “What are you thinking about?”

“All the fuel we’re wasting.” She puts on a fake smile, hiding her frustration.

Before I get another chance to speak, Phi Phi sits in the other pilot seat, next to me, and slaps my feet off the control panel. “Can we please avoid accidents?”

“What’s the fun in that?” I sulk. Heck, at least it would give us all something to talk about.

Who even are we anymore? And how did we get here?

Let me explain.

-_-_-_-

9869. 3 Years Ago

“Be warned, Monsoon; If you mess this up, you’re out of here.” Alyssa’s words ran circles in my head.

I resisted the urge to grab a glass of complimentary wine as I walked around the exhibition room, nodding and offering a fake smile to the attendees. The wine probably tasted like ass. These folks loved that type of stuff. I wasn’t part of their social class, not used to such tastes, so it was a hard pass on the booze. However I hoped my green emerald tea dress told them that I was one of them. Not that it would have mattered anyway. To them, I was just staff. But I knew I was so much more than that.

I was pretty good at hiding my nerves. This opportunity wasn’t given to just anyone, something I have waited on for a long time. I was to host an entire exhibition, the Universal Museum of Space History’s Lost Treasures reveal. A “One Night Only” event with a guest list of people who probably ate breakfast with a second cousin to a Royal at least once in their lives. And I couldn’t fuck it up. I couldn’t.

Before I walked into the room that night, I was just a tour guide, and in the current Century, it wasn’t as glamorous as it sounded. My manager, Alyssa insisted that we stick to the science-y feel. Instead of having an actual real live tour guide, we just used a hologram instead. And that hologram was yours truly. Groovy, right?

But this event? This meant opportunities. A possible promotion! And not to mention, I would be a part of something big. I was blessed with the task of unveiling a one of a kind artifact. No one knew where it came from. Or the real name. But they called it the Revitalization Grain. The name didn’t do it justice.

This pretty, glowy stone brought forth the growth of nature, crops, and resources. If I was a saleswoman, this is the part I’d say, “But wait! There’s more.” It had healing properties, offered a sort of hit, and even brought someone back from the dead (apparently).

Standing in that room, with all the aristocrats surrounding me, I was the only person who knew all that. The amount of digging and snooping around I had to go through to obtain this information was extensive.

Of course, not everything about the stone was known yet; where it came from, if it was life-form made or natural, or what its real name was.

I passed a Glarglaxian, and she wriggled her scaled fingers in a wave at me. I asked her how she was doing. Not that I cared. It was all about being a good hostess. But I really wanted to grab her and say, “Wait 'til you see the shit we’re about to pull out.” The excitement was getting to me.

Greeting a few others, I saw the tall woman standing in front of a floor-length window, staring out at the galaxy and sipping her wine. Damn, she looked classy in her long black mermaid dress, her blonde hair falling to her lower back. She looked human; therefore, I guessed that was what she was.

She seemed lonely, and I had to be a good little hostess and make her feel welcome. I walked up to her and cleared my throat. She turned to look at me, and I swear her eyes were black pits. She blinked, and I saw her eyes were actually just a dark brown. Maybe it was just the lighting in the place.

“I hope everything is up to a satisfactory standard for you, ma'am.” I started before spurting out a few other statements.

“Yes,” she drawled, “I’m having a ball.”

I rose on my toes and lowered to the ground again. “I can see that.”

“Well…if I could make one improvement, I would have chosen someone else for the entertainment. Someone more…electronic.” The woman said, her eyes trailing behind me.

I looked around to the other side of the room, where Cher was singing something a bit more slow and soft for her tastes. Yes, we bagged Cher for this gig. The woman was centuries old and still an absolute diva. How she hadn’t been given her own planet yet was beyond me. I think her Mom was in the crowd too.

“I couldn’t agree more with you, ma'am.” I looked back at the blonde.

“Please. Alaska will do."

Alaska…Strange choice of name. The last name of Nocturna, USA, Earth. It had been known as Nocturna for over 2000 years. Quite peculiar to choose a name like that.

"Apologies.” I smiled.

Alaska held out her glass of wine. “Here.”

I waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, I shouldn’t.”

“You can stop with the formalities, Jinkx. I can feel your anxiety."

"My anxiety?” This caught me off guard. And not to mention, “wait…how did you…?”

Alaska pointed a perfectly manicured finger to the left of my chest. I looked down. The name tag. “Oh. Of course. How silly of me."

"Weird spelling. But, other than that, I like it.” Alaska commented.

“Um, no. It’s spelled normally."

"Well, it was originally spelled without a 'k.’”

“No. It’s always had the 'k.’”

“No. The human race only started to spell it with the 'k’ when Jinkx Jenner was born back in the 49th Century.”

Alaska sipped her wine, and I was speechless. How the fuck didn’t I know that? I didn’t want to sound like one of those 'I’m an intellectual’ types. But I had dedicated a significant amount of time to learning about my origin planet’s history. Even going back to the caveman times.

Alaska ended the void of silence, offering me her wine once more. “Here. Drink up, Jinkx-y.”

My face flushed at the nickname, blinking a few times before finally accepting the drink. I took just a sip, not to appear unprofessional. As I expected, it was bitter. But I tried to hide my scowl and handed it back. Alaska’s upper lip curled up.

“Like that’s going to do anything.” She commented.

“Honestly, I’m fine. But thank you for the offer.” I beamed, putting my hands together. “Are you here alone?”

“No. I’m here with…friends.” She stretched the ’s’ sound. Her gaze traveled to a particular group of people. Looking around, I took in how attractive they all were. They all had glitter painting the side of their faces. And their lashes were long and thick, just like hers.

And dumbass me just came out with it. “God, you’re all so attractive.”

Looking back, my eyes widened. Why I had said it, I have no idea.

“Thank you.” She drawled.

“I-I…that just came out. I’m sorry.” I stammered.

“Don’t worry. We get it all the time.” Alaska stated before smiling.

I thought she was just gloating. But if I had known back then what I know now, it would have meant something else entirely.

Hours later, I was giving a speech that I must have written over 50 times before being proud of the final product. There was a red velvet curtain behind me. I was moments away from pulling a gold rope, dropping the curtain, and finally revealing the Revitalization Grain. The mixture of anxiety and excitement stirring inside was euphoric.

While I was delivering the speech, I spotted Alaska in the crowd, how eager she looked. Her friends were scattered around the room, sharing her expression. It only made me more excited.

And finally. Pulling the gold tassel, dropping the curtain, the stone was finally revealed in its glowing glory. I heard the crowd gasp in surprise. But I was too busy staring at the stone in its glass container.

And gasps turned to shrieks. This was what caught my attention.

I looked around. Alaska and her friends were holding laser guns, pointing them at the other guests. I don’t know why, but Cher started singing again. I guess maybe she was trying to calm the situation. For fuck sake.

“What the fuck??” I exclaimed as Alaska made her way towards me.

No. Towards the Revitalization Grain.

“It’s been a great night, beautiful people.” Alaska looked at the crowd once before turning and smashing her gun into the glass, smashing it to pieces. Oddly iconic.

My heart had risen to my throat as I watched her reach in and lift the stone. Where the fuck was the security?? Before I had the chance to act, the stone’s light became brighter in a matter of seconds. So bright if I hadn’t looked away, I probably would have been blinded.

I shielded my eyes, hearing the shrieks from the crowd along with Cher still singing like the legend she was. And when the light dimmed, I looked back.

And my stomach knotted.

Alaska’s hair was longer now, bigger, thicker, and practically white. Confirming that my earlier misjudgment was actually correct, her eyes were all black. Her skin shimmered as if glitter ran through her blood. And those nails, those perfectly manicured nails were longer and pointier.

She was a Celestial. Her friends were Celestials. How hadn’t I clocked this before, what with the glitter? And that also explained why I had just blurted out how fucking hot they all were. It was an effect they had on everyone they met.

“Thanks for being a great host, Jinkx-y.” She winked before approaching me. She held the stone tight as she leaned over and kissed me on the cheek.

Why hadn’t I tried to grab the stone? Because of the feeling of her lips on my skin, I swear I was high for a few seconds. I recovered only when she was walking down from my podium. A Glarglaxian charged as if ready to tackle her to the ground. But one of her buddies intervened, sending the Glarglaxian sliding across the shining floor with a single shove.

Alaska stood in a circle with her followers now. She turned and winked one more time. And just like that. With the flash of pink light, she was gone.

-_-_-_-

I called Alyssa immediately after the incident to just let her know how it went. She was mad because I called it “a small fuck up.“ She was a religious woman, so the string of curses and threats of hiring a hit man took me by surprise.

What seemed to be 5 minutes later, she was at the museum, her sugar baby boyfriend in tow. Her first question was, “where the flying fuck where the security?”

As far as I was aware, there was no security. Not one guard was in the room for the whole thing. Turns out, they were all hiding in a closet and smoking up. She fired them immediately. And there was no doubt I would be next.

Then came the talk with Government officials. It was all through holographs but still scary as shit. They were equally as disappointed to hear a group of Celestials had stolen something so powerful. They said the matter of the situation was so grave, the President would most definitely have to hear about it. Not one of the US or some other Earth country Presidents. The President of the Universe. So you could understand why they would rather not.

And instead of deciding amongst themselves what should be done next, they put that on Alyssa. But she was just the manager of a museum. How was that fair? And bless Alyssa and all, but she wasn’t very bright.

Because I couldn’t help but feel somewhat responsible, I piped up, offering to go and find the Revitalization Grain myself. They laughed at first. But upon expressing my knowledge of Celestials and being able to speak their language, they agreed. They would find more people.

And that was it. I was destined to travel the universe.

Of course, I cursed myself for even speaking up. I had never been a part of something like this. And I couldn’t just be like, "Hello, lovelies. Just letting you all know, I’ve changed my mind. Unemployment doesn’t sound that bad.” I drank two bottles of wine that night.

It took a year to prepare for the journey. And in the process, I met my team. Here, have a nice bullet point list I made a̶n̶d̶ ̶s̶l̶a̶v̶e̶d̶ ̶o̶v̶e̶r̶.̶

♡ Shea Couleé: The Captain.

♡ Sasha Velour: the First Mate and executive officer.

♡ Roy Haylock: Chief Officer of the Flight Department.

♡ Ivy Winters and Phi Phi O'Hara: Pilots.

♡ Milk, Kameron Michaels, and Bob: Engineers.

♡ Willam Belli and Courtney Act: Technicians.

♡ Me, Jinkx Monsoon, narcoleptic nerd: Linguist and Historian.

We met up a few times, different planets for each occasion. I’d say our visit to Barcelona (no, not the lovely sunny destination on Earth but the planet) was what solidified our friendships.

But for that whole year, I couldn’t get one person out of my head. And that was Alaska. I thought not much of her while we talked that night at the exhibit. But that fucking kiss on the cheek. That’s what got me. The momentary high, the way I was just frozen as she walked away, robbing us all of the stone. Whenever I remember that night, all I see is her image, like some kind of PowerPoint presentation. And Baby, I love your way plays in my head . Appropriate moment to call me a simp?

-_-_-_-

9872. Present Day

But wait. That doesn’t exactly explain how you all ended up in your current situation!

Shut up. I’m getting there. I just need a wine break.

I find myself in our kitchen. On my way there, I pass Willam and Bob playing ping pong. We went through a phase where we couldn’t decide who was the best and who got to go next. But the fun had long faded away. Same with the karaoke machine. That belongs to me. I must say, if I hadn’t volunteered for this shit, I would have belted out a song and won over an audience years ago. But without getting off-topic; the karaoke machine ain’t fun anymore.

Courtney stood there in the rec room, singing the lyrics that appeared on the screen. Her once electrifying whistle tones brought down to a somber dirge. “If you’ve been waitin’ for fallin’ in love, babe you don’t have to wait on me. 'Cause I’ve been aimin’ for heaven above but an angel ain’t what I need.”

Reaching the kitchen, I pour a glass of wine and look out the window into the far off distance. And all of a sudden, I’m reminded of Alaska, standing in that window, looking classy, sipping her wine, how the glitter on her face shimmered as she turned to look at me.

“What are you smiling at?”

Fuck, Ivy’s here too. She’s sitting on a counter in the corner, eating yogurt. I look away.

“Oh. It’s nothing.” I reply.

“I haven’t seen you smile in a long time.” Ivy points out. “Is it really just nothing.”

“It’s just…something funny from back home.” I lie.

Ivy places the bowl to the side. She’s silent momentarily before her face scrunches up, tears surfacing. For fuck’s sake, curse me and my foot in mouth disease!

I sit next to my best friend as the tears come flooding. I hold her in my arms, letting her know I’m her shoulder to cry on right now. It had been years since Earth was destroyed. But the grief was still fresh for her.

Actually, for the whole team.

I’m considered the lucky one. After all, I had no loved ones left on Earth. But my team? They had families; parents, siblings, partners, children of their own. And now, they’re gone.

How the Earth was destroyed? We tried to figure it out ourselves. But with no answers, we are just wasting away, flying around in Space on our ship. Nowhere to go. No purpose in life.

-_-_-_-

9870. 2 Years ago.

I was high-key worried that a year wasn’t enough time to prepare for this mission. And this thought hit harder upon arriving on the planet Celestia.

Although, we were expecting some sort of barrier, guards, a surprise attack. But there was nothing. Huh.

The place was pretty much just a copy of Earth, except if you took 10 hits of LSD and were pushed into a never-ending hallucinogenic trip. The blue sky was an oceanic hue, clouds glittering, pink trees everywhere like someone just scattered houses and buildings in the middle of a forest. Nearby planets were visible in the sky, the stars shining bright, and I questioned whether it was night or day.

Music pulsated through the air, all different songs playing at once from all different directions; Electronic dance music. I figured that’s why Alaska wasn’t feeling Cher the night of the exhibit.

Upon approaching, Shea quickly noticed that locals weren’t exactly acting how we thought they would. They were excited, cheering, and beckoning us to land. We did so, parking in what I guessed was a parking lot? Except there were no cars.

Exiting Big Debbie, we were distracted momentarily, watching as the Celestials ran around, hand in hand, their spirits high.

But Shea got right to it. “OK! Calm down. Where’s the Revitalization Grain?”

A Celestial approached us, like an animal ready to pounce, and Shea was ready to brawl.

“Just down the street. Take a right. You’ll see a marquee all lit up. It’s just in there. Costs to get in, though.” The Celestial explained.

The fuck? How was everyone on this planet this chilled out?

We all collectively agreed to keep our lasers hidden since they seemed harmless now. But I knew they could pack a punch. I had seen it the night of the exhibition. Better to be safe than sorry.

On the way to the marquee, we bickered over how the hell we were going to even pay. Well, Shea and Sasha mostly. Willam and Courtney were more interested in how attractive the Celestials were. couldn’t blame them.

All the while, I looked around me, hoping to see a certain someone. But then again, if she saw me here, surely she’d know something was up.

Coming to the marquee’s entry line, Sasha managed to get a peek at the front of the line. People were literally paying with anything - false eyelashes, jewelry, scales from their own flesh, fake nails, whatever they had on them.

Roy decided to stay behind, the only thing he thought that would interest them being his rose-tinted sunglasses. And he was not willing to part with them. Over much debating on what we would offer, we agreed that maybe a simple handshake, a sign of peace, would suffice.

We were right. How I wished I could just live there.

When we were in, the deja vu set in. Celestials, humans, and other alien species stood around, sipping wine and talking amongst themselves. The music wasn’t live and provided by Cher. But it played from speakers in the corners, the beats fast and fitting with the environment.

And there, on a podium in the middle of the room, was the Revitalization Grain. Its glow was brighter than the last time I had seen it. The light seemed to travel through the podium and into the ground, like veins running through a human body.

I looked around for Alaska, but she was absent. Damn.

Shea gave the command, and we withdrew our weapons. The once cheerful and friendly atmosphere was brought to a grinding halt as the people began to cower. The rest of the team reassured them everything would be fine if they just stayed put. I approached the podium and lifted the precious stone.

And with that, the light from the podium disappeared, but the stone still shone bright. This was it—time to hit the road.

Everything was going so well. We had gotten back to the ship safely. No one even bothering to attack us.

But before we could get high enough, the ship started to go through what we thought was turbulence. But of course, the Celestial’s decided now was the best time to fight. They were attacking Big Debbie in their own flying pods. There was no way we were going to make it out of the planet alive.

And so we were forced to land in hopes we could fight them off. Disembarking Big Debbie, there was indeed a face-off. My team and the Celestials stood outside; the area around us was more barren and dusty than its main city area.

We were all yelling at each other, not a single word clear enough to understand with the many voices. All I got from the exchange was that we argued they had stolen a rare artifact. They claimed it belonged to them now. It was just back and forth madness.

And then came another pod, this one bigger and more glittery.

And my heart stopped.

It was Alaska.

She exited the pod.

Oooooh, Baby I love your way.

She looked right at me as if she could sense the stone within my satchel.

I smiled shyly, “Hi, Ala- -”

“Jinkx, give me the stone.” She demanded, holding out her hand.

“Ugh…no,” I replied, clutching the satchel strap.

“Jinkx, if you don’t give me that rock…” Alaska growled as she stormed towards me. Shea tried to block her way, but with a simple wave of her hand, Shea was lifted from the ground and thrown back.

Like a dumb ass, I just screamed and took off. I abandoned my poor team, leaving them with the Celestials. But honestly, Alaska at that moment was terrifying. She really did growl. And her eyes were black pits again. Scary stuff, really.

I don’t know how long I ran for, but the sun was scorching, there was no wind or moisture in the air. I just ran and ran until I had no choice but to stop. My legs and lungs burned.

I was doubled over, hands on my knees and panting. I made a mental note to work out more, which I still haven’t done.

Looking behind me, Alaska was nowhere to be seen.

“Wh…What…?” I straightened.

A manicured hand clamped down on my shoulder, spinning me around. It was Alaska. How she had got there was beyond me.

God, she was stunning. Ooooh, Baby I lo - -

She grabbed the strap of the bag tight, which brought me out of my trance. I tugged back. “This is ridiculous! Just give it up, for crying out loud!”

“No. That stone belongs to me!”

“It belongs to the museum!”

“Jinkx, you have no idea what you’re doing!”

“I do! I’m saving my career!”

The strap snapped. And the stone flew out from the bag, flying across the rocky plain. We ran for it. Alaska was slightly faster than me. The only way I could think to reach the stone before she did was to fling myself to the ground like a penguin sliding on ice. And it must have been my lucky day because it worked.

A piece of the stone had broken off. For fuck sake!

“Jinkx. The rock. Now!” Alaska commanded.

I turned, sitting on the ground now, and pointed my laser at her. “Alaska, honey, you know I can’t do that.”

“Stupid human. You need to give me the rock right now. You don’t understand - -”

Over Alaska’s shoulder, I could see the ship in the distance, heading in our direction. Damn, I really did run far.

I bolted for a rocky hill, awaiting the ship’s arrival. And of course, Alaska followed.

“Get back here!” She yelled.

I held the stone tight, shaking my head. Backing up, I felt my stomach tighten. My heel was on the edge of nothing. Glancing over my shoulder, I saw the long drop down and gulped nervously.

“Give me the stone!"

I looked around as Alaska lunged forward. I instinctively threw myself to the side.

And I watched as she fell from the cliff.

"Alaska!” I yelled.

I watched her fall, becoming smaller and smaller.

My mind was blank. I couldn’t even comprehend what was happening. “Fuck…fuck…fuck…”

Before her body could splatter to pieces, her body moved along the plain of land, and shot high up into the sky. “She can fly? Oh…OK. Good.”

She was like a glowy blur, contrasting the oceanarium blue of the sky. A glowy blur that was getting closer and closer. “Oh…OK. That’s not good.”

I looked at Big Debbie. And then to Alaska. And then, Big Debbie. And then, Alaska. A dizzying back and forth. Who would reach me first? I hoped it wouldn’t be the latter. Death didn’t sound too lovely, after all.

“Jinkx!” I heard Ivy yell. Alaska was close, but the ship was closer. I saw Ivy standing in the doorway, hanging on for dear life.

The speed of light that was Alaska was catching up. Fuck. The ship was so close. I was so gross from all the sweat, practically feeling the heat radiating off the approaching Celestial.

And in a matter of seconds, the ship was next to me. Ivy was reaching out a hand. I grabbed it, and my skin could have peeled off from the great force of being dragged into the ship.

I hit the ground and rolled, Ivy quickly shutting the door.

We had no time to celebrate our victory. It was time to get the fuck out of Celestia and keep the stone safe.

-_-_-_-

9872. Present Day

“Yeah, but you tell that story like it’s the wildest shit.”

I snap out of my daze. Shea is in the kitchen now, pouring herself a cup of coffee. I was so involved in telling Ivy my own account of the story, I didn’t realize our Captain entered the room.

“It was the wildest shit. The way Ivy pulled me onto the ship? It was like something out of an old action movie.” I insist.

Ivy’s not upset anymore. She laughed a few times during my storytelling. Good to know I can lighten the mood for her a bit. “Did Alyssa even notice the missing piece?” Ivy asks, tucking a leg under herself.

“No,” I answer. Like I said, Alyssa wasn’t the brightest. But in returning the stone to the museum, I learned she was also one harsh mother fucker. After the long journey back, she basically said, “Thanks for the stone, Jinkx. What you did is so admirable! But also, you’re fired. And one more thing. While ya’ll were gone, the Earth was destroyed. So, good luck trying to find a new home. Bye.”

Well, not exactly word for word. But it might as well have been. Alyssa fired me for “letting the aliens steal the stone,” which was totally stupid. I wanted to sue her for unfair dismissal. But at that stage, what was the point? I just gave the stone over and accepted defeat.

“What a bitch.” Ivy shakes her head.

“I know. She sounds like one of those bitches, you know the ones who take a vacation to a poor country, come back and throw away most of their wardrobe instead of actually doing something to help.” Shea observes. She’s not far off.

“Any other questions?” I ask.

“Yeah, one more. You have a crush on Alaska.” Ivy smirks.

“… That’s not a question.”

“OK, well, 'you have a crush on Alaska.’ True or false?"

"False. Are you nuts? As if.” I lie.

“I mean…” Shea squints her eyes, “You do talk about her some type of way.”

“Well…how do you know I’m not adding to the story? To make it more exciting?” I raise my brows. That’s dumb. That’s my worst lie. I’m terrible at lying, and I know they can see right through me. But they don’t question me further, and I am thankful.

Of course, I like Alaska. What’s not to like? It wasn’t just some plot device I threw into my story for exaggeration. Actually, none of it was exaggerated. Imagine if I told you right now that Alaska didn’t even fly, and she had indeed fallen to her death, and that was the last of it. Would it be considered a sad or happy ending?

She really did fly that day. But part of the story I left out was this; when she went soaring into the sky, that motherfucking Baby, I love your way song played in my head again.

-_-_-_-

I’m in my room now. It’s only 5pm, but my all-over-the-show body clock is saying 'nap time.’ I kick off my boots and fling them into the corner. And before I can even get comfy, in comes the cleaner bot, Tallulah. She’s like a slightly bigger version of Wall-E from the Oscar-winning film Wall-E . But instead of eyes, she has a screen for a face. Therefore she only speaks in symbols. Bless her.

“Hey, girl,” I murmur, feeling a yawn come on.

“ :) ” She says. She hovers over to my tossed boots, picks them up, and carefully places them under my bed. She takes almost a full minute to make sure they are perfectly symmetrical next to each other.

“Thank you, Tallulah. That’ll do.” I say, smiling. But she isn’t leaving. She starts searching the room for something else to clean. I really really want this nap, but from past experience, there ain’t no stopping her.

I think back to earlier in the day when the dark thoughts were getting the better of me. How I thought of ways to destroy her just to live out my intergalactic space domestic fantasy. I regret that immensely. The feeling of loneliness, while being surrounded by people, can sometimes fuck with your head.

“Tallulah.” I pipe up, grabbing her attention.

“ ? ”

“We love ya, gal.”

“ :D ”

I smile and lie down on the uncomfortable bed. You get used to a mattress like this when you’ve been using it for so long.

I close my eyes, hoping sleep will come quick.

“ Hmmm, hmmm hmm, hmmm…falling in love…” God, that karaoke song that Courtney was singing is stuck in my head now.

The ship shudders, and I huff. The light above my head isn’t any help, either. I can only turn it off when Tallulah leaves the room. But I’m guessing that won’t be for another while. Think I’ll just face the wall then.

My eyes are closed for all but 2 seconds when Tallulah taps me on the arm. “Tallulah, it’s nap time.”

She taps again, and so I sigh heavily, letting her know I’m serious. I turn around. And bolt upright.

I have no fucking idea how but Tallulah has somehow found the chipped off piece of Revitalization Grain. “ 😃 ”

“Give me that.” I hold out my hand.

“ 🍬 ”

“Tallulah, that is not candy. It’s very, very precious.”

“ >:( ”

“Look. I traveled so far to get that fucking stone just to lose my goddamn job. I earned that piece.”

“ :( ”

She really isn’t going to give this up. “OK. Fine. You can have it. But, you need to take good care of it. It’s not food. It’s not a toy. And if it falls into the wrong hands, the consequences could be vital.”

“ :D ”

“Glad you’re happy, hon’.”

The ship shakes again, only more violent this time. “Jesus Christ! If we’ve flown into a storm - -”

I nearly hit the wall as the ship shakes even more aggressively.

“ 👁👄👁💧"Tallulah’s screen flashes.

"Go to your room.”

“✅”

We both leave my room, Tallulah hovering down to the left and me towards the right.

I’m jogging my way to the control room, Roy popping out of his own room. “I swear to god. Somebody better be dead.”

The ship jolts. Because we were practically power walking with confidence, we fall the fuck over, right on our faces.

I groan in pain before responding to Roy’s statement. “Jesus, ain’t that a bit much?”

Entering the control room, everyone’s on their feet, rushing around, pressing all sorts of buttons, Shea giving a lot more commands than usual.

“OK. Who’s dead?” Roy asks.

“Do you have to?” I roll my eyes. He only smirks.

“Someone’s trying to get in,” Shea explains.

“Into the ship?” I raise a brow.

“No. Into my panties. Yes, of course the ship!” Shea snaps. Can’t blame her; it was a dumb question. My bad.

I approach Ivy, looking over her shoulder at the screen.

“This is crazy. What do you think it is?” I ask.

“I don’t know. But, from all the ruckus, I’m gonna guess and say it’s huge.”

My stomach is sinking to my ass. “Fuck…”

“It’s kind of exciting, to be honest.” Ivy laughs nervously.

“Which side are we talking, ladies?” Shea cuts off our conversation.

“The South East Side, Captain.” Phi Phi answers.

There’s banging. We all look to the North West side. Not the South East.

“Wow. Whatever it is, it’s fucking fast.” Ivy says.

“Shh. Listen.” Sasha holds a hand up.

There’s scratching sounds now. It’s almost unbearable to listen to like nails on a chalkboard.

We’re all still, just listening, too afraid to speak, unsure of what to do.

“What the fuck is going on??!!” Bob bellows as he enters the room, Milk and Kameron following behind.

“Shut the fuck up,” Shea swears through a harsh whisper.

The three engineers stop dead in their tracks, unsure of what is actually going on.

The scratching has stopped.

The ship is still.

And the silence is haunting.

Even though whatever is on the other side is probably a bloodthirsty creature, craving the taste of our insides; honestly, I’m fucking pumped.

I look to everyone else, but they clearly don’t feel the same. Phi Phi’s skin is pale like she’s looking death right in the eye.

There’s still this silence. And I want to break it. “Do you think - -”

The room is illuminated, and we all collectively flinch. And that feeling of familiarity settles in.

When the light has faded enough for us to look, what I fear (or low-key hope) to happen has happened.

In the middle of the room is a figure, the light slipping away from them to reveal their long blonde messy locks, their long arms, talons for nails…Oh, God…

Their head whips around to look at us. And that stupid Baby, I love your way song plays in my head as they flip their hair over their shoulder.

“Alaska!” I gasp.

She holds up her laser gun, aiming it at us. The others aim their own weapons right back at her.

“None of you could have opened the door? Seriously??” Alaska growls.

“Yeah, because inviting in whatever was fucking with our ship wouldn’t be a stupid move or anything.” Phi Phi sneers.

Alaska stands tall. “I mean, I did fucking knock.”

“Sorry, we didn’t hear it,” Ivy replies apologetically, Shea shooting her a look.

“As if we’d let you in, though.” Shea chimes.

“How rude.” Alaska comments.

I take in her appearance, which has significantly changed since I last saw her. The once strong, tall Celestial is now frail and seems to struggle to even hold herself up. Her once luscious hair is like straw, dry, and lifeless. And the glitter in her skin. It’s gone.

“Why are you even here?” Sasha demands.

“To take back what is mine.” Alaska pants. “Where’s the stone?”

“Jokes on you, girl. We don’t have it anymore.” Roy answered.

Alaska is breathing heavier now, blinking more than usual. “That’s impossible. I was drawn here. I can feel its energy."

The crew is quiet, and I feel like a fucking idiot. Of course, she’s talking about the broken piece that I gave to Tallulah. Maybe this was reality coming back to bite me in the ass that we can’t always have nice things.

No one is saying anything. Therefore, it’s my time to spew some bullshit. "It’s probably just the aura still left over on the ship. There’s nothing here for you.”

Alaska seethes, her body quivering. “So I saved up all my energy - fucking propelled myself across the universe - used whatever strength I had left…all for nothing?!”

I feel bad but won’t let it show. I just nod my head. “Yeah. You kinda did.”

Alaska lowers her weapon, eyes drawn to the ground. At first, she looks in disbelief. Then disappointed. And now her eyes aren’t lifting, her chest heaving.

“If you want, we can fly you back?” Ivy offers, shrugging her shoulders.

Instead of answering, Alaska drops to the ground, out cold.

“Jesus Christ!” Bob steps back.

I’m the only one who rushes to her. I try for a pulse. She’s still alive. A sigh of relief escapes my lips, and I look to the others. “Are you just gonna stand there all day? We need to help her.”

“Do we though?” Roy smirks.

“Yes. We do.” I snap. Looking back at the passed out Celestial, unsure of what to actually do, I poke her on the forehead. “Alaska…?”

She stirs.

Kameron kneels on the other side and scoops her up in his arms.

“Wow - wow - wow. What are you doing?” I demand.

Kameron raises a brow. “Helping?”

He turns to leave the room.

“Yeah, well, be careful with her!” I call after him. Kameron is harmless. But with those muscles and her fragile state, I’m afraid one wrong move, and she’ll snap in half.

“What the fuck is going on?” Phi Phi asks, standing up from her chair.

“I don’t know, but I feel so unprepared. What do we do?” Ivy says.

“Let’s all just calm down.” Shea raises her hands, trying to ward off the team’s anxieties. “Look, we don’t have the stone. We’re not gonna tell her where it is. Therefore, we’re useless to her.”

“More reason for her to kill us,” Willam noted.

“Not if we keep the peace and give her a ride home.” Shea counters.

Too many thoughts whirlwind in my brain right now. Maybe I should just come clean and tell them about the piece of Revitalization Grain. Or maybe not. I feel like the confrontation would be worse.

“I need a smoke.” I don’t even smoke.

“I need a drink.” Phi Phi adds.

“I need to stress masturbate.” Willam groans.

I’m ready to hurl.

-_-_-_-

2 hours later and I’m still on edge. Since Alaska broke in, I’ve had a long-ass shower, napped, ate 2 heaping bowls of cereal, and tried to find Tallulah. If anyone found out about the stone, my ass was grass.

The bot is not in her usual hangouts, which wracks my nerves up to 100—time to try looking through the whole ship.

I search high and low, searching each room I pass. I’m desperate to get this stone back.

“What are you looking for?” Milk passes me.

“Tallulah. I…spilled something”, I answer, the frustration apparent in my voice.

“Someone’s stressed.” Milk comments, continuing on in the opposite direction.

I bite my tongue, knowing full well that a snide remark is on the tip of it.

I find myself at the far end of the ship, where no one really visits too often. It’s just storage and the prison cell. Yes, we have one of those in the case that a criminal boards.

Finally checking said prison cell, I don’t find Tallulah. But I find Alaska. I can feel anger brewing in my chest, knowing this was what Kameron thought would be appropriate. Yes, she broke in, but she is not a threat.

She’s just lying there on the ground, and I feel saddened.

But she looks over her shoulder. I’m glad to see she’s awake.

I enter and stand before the glass barrier separating us. Alaska sits up and turns to me.

“Look what the cat dragged in,” she says.

“The Captain’s set sail. We’re taking you home. Should we expect an attack?” I ask.

Alaska blinks long and hard, looking away in frustration. “I don’t think so.”

“Good,” I say. I could just turn and leave. But my feet are stuck to the ground. I just look down at her, feeling the pity inside. But I must remain firm for my team.

“So, I’m really stuck in this cell for weeks with no entertainment?” Alaska combs a clawed hand through her long hair.

“Well, when you put it that way, I’ll willingly allow you some form of entertainment. You want a book?”

Alaska gags. “I’d prefer music.”

I move to the wall on the left; there’s a switch linked to the sound system that plays through the ship. Music used to play on repeat throughout the place. But when you hear the same songs over and over again, it becomes repetitive. I turn the volume, but not too loud as to disturb everyone else.

Some classical tune plays at random. It was never a favorite, but Alaska seems to not mind.

“You know there’s one moment I can’t ever stop thinking about. It involves you.” She drawls.

“Really?” I let myself smirk, sounding a bit too enthusiastic.

“When you let me fall from that cliff.”

“Oh. OK.”

“I could have died that day.” She continues. “But honestly, as I was falling, I thought… that’s alright… that’s OK. Everyone would know that I was legendary.”

“I would have caught you if my reflexes were better.” I try.

“No, you wouldn’t. Then I would have had the stone.” Alaska counters.

I don’t even try to argue that she’s wrong. I know I’d fucking blurt it out that I found her very appealing and would be pretty sad to know she died. Although, the thought of her reaction was also intriguing.

“You want to join me in here?” She suggests.

“Not terribly.” I lie.

“Are you scared of me?"

"No.”

“Well, I find it kind of rude with the barrier between us.”

She has a point. But the team would tear me a new one.

“Don’t worry. I won’t try to escape.” Alaska raises a brow. “I don’t exactly have the energy right now.”

To be fair, she still seems very sluggish. I give in, scan my key card, and enter the cell. Her eyes follow me as I sit down on the ground next to her.

“At least it’s not cold in here,” I comment.

“I’m pretty cold.” Alaska states.

You wanna cuddle? Nah, I can’t say that. “I’ll find you a heater later.”

“So, Jinkx-y. What have you all been at since we last met?” She’s intrigued.

“Nothing fascinating,” I reply. “Planet Earth was destroyed. We got nowhere to go. No missions. Nothing.”

Alaska looks disappointed with the answer.

“I’m sorry. Were you expecting something a bit more thrilling? Well, the last time something exciting ever happened, before you got here, was a very long time ago.” I continue.

“You have a really negative aura right now.” Alaska comments. “Maybe if you had a little more positivity, you’d find happiness.”

My brows connect. “Well, I’ve never been one of those 'fake a smile’ types. That’s a one way trip to a massive breakdown.”

“Who said anything about faking a smile?” Alaska tests. “If you get out of your head, stop focusing on how boring everything else, then you’ll see what the world has to offer.”

“What are you? A therapist?"

"See, this is what I’m talking about? The negativity. It’s making you more hostile. So different to the Jinkx I met back in the museum.” Alaska’s eyes squint as she analyzes me further. “And no, I’m not a

therapist. If you didn’t notice before, it’s just my people are a very positive bunch. Give us a Tsunami; we’ll make a water slide out of it. Give us a house fire; we’ll toast marshmallows and have one hell of a party.”

I know I could never reach that level of chill. But I find it admirable.

“Jinkx, how old are you?” Alaska asks.

The question catches me off guard, but I answer anyway. “33 years old.”

“Wow. You’re like…way younger than I thought you’d be.” Alaska’s brows raise in surprise.

“Are you saying I look old?"

"I was going to guess late 40’s.”

“Oh, wow. Thanks.” The sudden urge to leave and go find some more wine is strong. Actually, maybe that’s what has clearly aged me.

“Late '40s is still young, girl. But early 30’s. That’s really, really young. Practically still a child.” Alaska comments.

“You have a really warped concept of age,” I note. “How old are you then? You gotta be younger than me, at least.”

“Far from it. I’m actually 2099 years of age. Just about to get into my 2100’s."

I’m shocked. Only then, when she states her age, do I remember that Celestials live for a very, very, very long time. But still. I never imagined she’d be 2 millenniums old.

"I forgot you humans only have less than 100 years.” Alaska plays with her hair again. “Which is why I find it sad you’re just sitting here wasting what remaining time you have. You have so much to experience. A lot to learn. You just gotta open your eyes.”

“Huh, you’re not wrong.” I click my tongue. “OK, so let me know more about you."

Alaska looks flattered.

"Why the name 'Alaska’? I’m guessing your parents had an interest in Earth?”

“I’m gonna let you in on a little secret. Just because I like you.” Alaska says coyly, making me blush. “It’s not my real name.”

“Oh, cool. What is your real name then?” I lean forward, enthusiastically.

“I’d rather not say.”

“OK.” I don’t press her. “Does anyone know your real name?” I don’t want to feel left out.

“Of course they do. But for specific and appropriate reasons. I’d just much rather be referred to as Alaska. And what about you? Why Jinkx with a 'k.’” Alaska lies on her side, propping her head up with a hand.

“I don’t know. My Mom liked it, I guess.” I also lie on my side, and I just smile at her.

“Jinkx Jenner fan?” Alaska asked.

I shook my head. “I have no clue. Honestly, she wasn’t very present for my childhood. I never had the chance to find out.” I see the sorrowful look on her face. And I regret taking the conversation to a dark place. Before she can ask about the rest of my family, I take a turn and ask a question. “So like…are you broke or something? I’m guessing that’s why you wanted the stone so bad.” I smirk.

“What do you mean?” Alaska’s brow raises.

“The marquee. You were charging people to see the stone.”

“Oh, that . I guess that was just a perk. Not really different from people paying to see it in the museum.” Alaska explains, her smile slowly fading. “But no, that’s not the real reason.”

With a sigh, she sits up again, leaning her back against the wall. Her chest heaves, eyes looking upward. It’s like she’s avoiding me, or the topic. I’m unsure of which one.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“It's…” she pauses like she’s trying to find words. And then she sighs through her nostrils. “It doesn’t matter.”

Concern takes me over. I sit up and move towards the wall beside her. “Hey, it’s OK. You can say it. It’s just me.” I say as if she’s known me for years. I don’t know why I said it. I guess I just really want her to trust me.

Alaska avoids my eyes. “I really can’t. It could be dangerous for Glamtron.”

“Glamtron?"

"Yes, my planet.”

“You mean Celestia?”

“No. Glamtron.”

“…”

“Alaska, you’re from Celestia.”

“No, it’s called Glamtron.”

“Says who?”

“I do. I renamed it.”

My head cocks to the side. “ You renamed it?”

“Yes. I do have the power and the authority to do that, after all."

My eyes widen. "Wait a minute. Are you saying…”

“Yes, I am the Queen. Alaska Thunderfuck from the planet Glamtron.” She says so proudly. “So, yes. I really did rename it to Glamtron.”

I don’t even care about the name change any more. I’m just…beyond shocked. Here, I am; Jinkx Monsoon, a space nerd, sitting with royalty.

"Fuck. I just… don’t know how to act all of a sudden.” I say.

“Well, I’m not looking very Queenly right now. Just see me as Alaska from the exhibit for now."

"I know, but… I’ve studied Celes - -” Alaska shoots me a look, “Glamtron before. There’s never been any mention of an Alaska before. And you’ve been alive for so long. How…” I trail off, not knowing how to even finish my statement.

“Because Alaska isn’t my real name.” She says as if I should have remembered that. I thought she would have been happy to know I forgot.

“Well.” I pause. “I hate to ask, but what do they refer to you as?”

She licks her teeth like she’s slightly frustrated. “OK. Fine. But you gotta promise to always call me Alaska.”

“Cross my heart.” I place a hand over my heart to seal the deal.

“OK.” She looks to the door as if afraid anyone will just wander in. Then she looks at me, leans in close, and whispers, “My name is actually Thriks.”

My first thought is, 'Oh, yikes. That is kinda awful.’ But now I’m thinking back to my reading. And I am definitely familiar. The Queen Thriks was known as a wild party animal, yet a loving and caring mother-like figure. She was always so strong for her people and went out of her way for them, making sure everyone was in high spirits. Because of her loving nature, she was to go down in history as one of the most adored Queens of Celestia.

“I have read about you,” I say quietly.

“And you’re little history books and articles. Do they still call it Celestia?” Alaska stretches the ’s’ in Celestia out.

“Uh, huh.”

“If I was a different person, I’d sue."

But we’re getting off track. I need answers. "Well…I could write about you? I’d write you as Alaska . I’d call it Glamtron . I’d make everything right if you help me."

Alaska bats her lashes. "You’d do that for me?”

“Yes!” I exclaim, grabbing her hand.

“Hmmm…” she brings a finger to her mouth, thinking, “I can’t wait for the part where I robbed the museum. I’m sure there will be some bitterness in those words.”

She’s kind of right. Yeah, I’m having a good time talking with her. But she did kind of cost me my job. I purse my lips as the classical song ends, transitioning to something from the 1980s.

“Alaska, why did you take the stone?” I ask again.

She’s silent again, pretending to be distracted by the catchy Madonna music.

“Alaska, I need to know if I’m going to write your story."

She stops bobbing her head, huffing put through her nostrils. "Jinkx, I really can’t.”

“Why not? You told me your name.”

“Because that’s different.”

“How?”

“Because it’s dangerous.”

“Why?” My tone becomes more demanding.

“Because it just is,” Alaska replies, her tone the same.

“For who? Us? Are we in trouble?”

“No! For my people.”

“So…you don’t trust me?” I ask in an accusing manner. Seems a bit emotional blackmail-ish, but I’m desperate to know.

“I do trust you, Jinkx. But I can’t say the same for your team.” She says with venom.

“My team are good people!” I say. “They have never caused any harm.”

“They terrified my people that day.” Alaska countered. I figure she’s talking about the day we arrived in Celestia.

“And how is that any different to the night of the exhibit?"

"Because unlike you all, we had a good reason.”

“And that is?”

“Jinkx, you’re really really starting to piss me off.”

“Don’t ignore the question. What am I going to do? Go out and tell my big bad teammates? Why would I do that if I have no idea what the consequences are?”

“Because we’re vulnerable, Jinkx!” Alaska shouts. Her volume causes me to shrink away. She’s gritted her teeth, kneeling on her knees and towering over me now. I’m actually scared.

“Look at me!” She presses her hands against her chest. “I’m fucking dying! My planet is dying. My people are dying!”

In my moment of shock, as Alaska looks down on me, pieces of the puzzle come together in my head.

Thriks; the loving Queen who went out of her way for her people.

The attack on the museum.

The Revitalization Grain.

The one thing that brought restoration and reincarnation.

“You wanna save them,” I speak through a whisper.

With a sigh, Alaska sinks back to the ground. Her head lowers, blonde hair covering her face.

“Jinkx, the stone is of Glamtron origin. It was lost 300 years ago, in the middle of the war with the Holoxyans. For so long, we were wasting away, trying to build up our own energy to keep ourselves alive. And from just laying around, we were just dying anyway. And I had no idea what to do. I didn’t know how to save them.” Alaska’s voice cracks. “For years, I had to watch as many gave what little energy they had left to my team and me. Just so we could go find the stone.”

I’m horrified as realization hits; I’ve brought doom to an entire planet.

“Please, I don’t want anyone other than us to know,” Alaska states firmly. “Glamtron has no defense. If someone knows how vulnerable we are, it makes us a prime target for invasion. The Holoxyans. They will attack.”

I move close to her again. I resist the urge to throw my arms around her, now aware of literally how fragile she is. I take her hand graciously; my own eyes must be glistening. “Alaska, I’m so sorry.”

She puts her other hand on top of mine. “I do trust you, Jinkx. I’m just…terrified.”

“I know. I know.” I say quietly.

Alaska hasn’t shed any tears. They were right when they said Thriks was a strong bitch. I held back my own tears, fearing it would be selfish.

“So, no. It’s not because I’m broke.” Alaska comments. And I nervous laugh. She laughs too. “You promise this stays between us?” She looks me in the eye.

Is it inappropriate to say at this moment I’m just smitten by the dark irises? “I promise.” I squeeze her hands reassuringly.

“Great.” She nods. And she leans forward, kissing me on the cheek.

I could fucking melt. The high must be kicking in again because the lights are dimming, there’s some sort of pink aura emerging, the music is louder, and Alaska feels warm.

She pulls away. I expect a smile. But she’s looking around her as if she’s experiencing the same thing.

“Alaska, look.” I point to her wrist. She looks just in time to see something glitter under her skin, like sparkly pink blood flowing through her veins.

She’s looking at me now like something has just hit her in the head like a brick. I don’t know what, so I just stare back in confusion. “What’s - -”

I’m cut off as she grabs my face.

And she kisses me again.

On the lips.

Suddenly, I know what pink glitter tastes like, even though I’m pretty sure there is no taste. Her kiss is so gentle, which I do not expect from her. She’s lifted a hand to my cheek, stroking a nail along my skin. And I hope this is a sign she’s not just in it for some nice colors floating around the air. I feel this spark, and it will kill me if she doesn’t feel it too. Upon having this thought, I wrap my arms around her tiny waist. The butterflies in my stomach are going wild, my heart is pounding so hard, yet all I can focus on is the soft feel of her lips.

She pulls away, and I almost pull her back in. But I’m taken aback by the room now . Like, am I tripping right now, or are there really purple fireflies floating around?

Alaska’s looking around in awe as well. I guess it’s not the cosmic-high feeling from her kiss.

“Well, that’s never happened before.” Alaska looks back to me with a smirk. The holographic glitter has resurfaced, decorating the sides of her face.

And her hair, almost pale white, longer and thicker. I can’t help but run my fingers through it. Never has hair felt silkier to me.

She’s glancing down at my hand, still playing with her locks. “I feel…alive again.” She breathes out a laugh, pulling away from me, admiring the healthy color of her skin, the glittery fluid coursing through her.

I look away, noting how the floaty lights remain. But the hit is gone. So this is real. There really are tiny glowy orbs floating around us.

"Wow. What is this song?” Alaska asks, moving her body to the rhythm of the music. The 1980s song has long ended. Instead, the song Courtney was singing earlier plays.

“I’ll have to find that out for you. You’d think I’d know it. We’ve heard it so many damn times now. It’s kind of annoying.” I laugh.

“Why do you think that?"

"It’s just…too depressing, I guess. I mean, listen to the words.”

“This is what I’m talking about. Don’t focus on what’s black and white. Listen to the music.” Alaska turns to face me, her long arms rippling to the tune.

I don’t want to be an annoying son of a gun and ruin the tender moment for us, so I take her advice and really listen to the music.

“Not anyone, you’re the one, more than fun, you’re the Sanctuary,

'Cause what you want is what I want, Sincerity.”

My eyes are closed, and my body is swaying. And I’m feeling it. Like the music is flowing through me. “Hey. I think you’re right.”

“See?” I open my eyes to see her move toward me. She takes my hands in hers. And we spin in a slow circle.

“Souls that dream alone lie awake, I’ll give you something so real.”

As the chorus kicks in, the dance has picked up a pace. I don’t even know what kind of dancing this is. Let’s say a mix of slow dancing and ballroom. And I laugh when she spins me around. I try to return the gesture, but she’s too tall, and I nearly knock her in the face. I’m embarrassed for a few seconds, but she’s laughing. And it makes me feel less like an idiot.

I can’t keep up this pace; I’m falling so hard right now. I slow myself down, hoping she gets the hint.

“Hold me oh so close, 'cause you’ll never know just how long our lives will be.”

I wrap my arms around the small of her back, pulling her to me. I can see the small floaty lights reflecting in her dark eyes. And now it’s my turn to kiss her. I’m really, really falling hard.

I could stay like this forever, rocking side to side, just kissing Alaska. But reality has to come back and creep into my brain, doesn’t it?

I know this won’t last. We’ll eventually have to part when we leave her back to her dying planet, and my team and I will continue on wasting away.

I stop kissing her to get another look at those eyes, and she lays her head on my shoulder. We continue to sway side to side. And the thought of letting go is making all kinds of negative emotions surface. Am I glad for this moment? Oh, absolutely. If she hadn’t broken in, I’d still be in my room, either sleeping or waiting for Tallulah to finish cleaning.

“Wait…” I say.

“What is it?” Alaska speaks into the crook of my neck.

“I…” I pause, “OK, don’t get mad. But I kinda lied to you.” She lifts her head at this. “You were right about sensing the stone. The truth is I have a piece.”

Her eyes widen. “I knew I felt it.”

“It’s small. But it’ll give you more strength.” I suggest with raised brows.

“No. I have enough right now. I don’t know how but…you ignite something in me, I guess. As for the stone, I know a few people back home who could use it more.” Alaska suggested.

“Well, good. Wait here.” I give her a small kiss. “I’ll be back in a second.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t be going anywhere.” She calls as I leave the cell.

I’m too buzzed to search every damn room. I just search for the nearest human who will provide me with answers. I find two in the security room. Ivy and Courtney.

“Which one of you whores have seen Tallulah?” I ask, peaking my head in.

“Not me.” Courtney answers. She’s got a smirk on her face, and I know somethings up.

“Me neither. But we’ll tell you what we did see.” Ivy gestures to the 5th screen, showing Alaska still dancing around in her cell.

My eyes widen. “You were spying on us?”

“Not our intention. We thought we’d keep an eye on things in case something happened.” Ivy then laughs. “And I guess it did.”

The shame takes me over, and my face flushes with shame and embarrassment. “Oh, for God’s sake.”

“I actually think it’s adorable. Very Romeo and Juliet.” Courtney coos.

I roll my eyes. This is all incredibly immature. But I know they’re not going to just let it go. “OK, kids. I’ll let you have your fun. But it stays between us. Anyway, where’s Tallulah?”

“We told you. We don’t know.” Courtney replies. “Try her closet.”

“OK.” I turn to leave, not before turning and pointing at the two. “Remember; it stays between us 3.”

“You got it, girl.” Ivy smirks.

I waste no more time with them and rush to the cleaning room, which just so happens to be at the end of this corridor, just around the corner. My pace is so quick, I almost trip.

Upon getting to the door, I’m thankful to find Tallulah is here but shut down. “Tallulah?"

No response. I clap my hands 2 times as if it’ll bring her to life. It’s never worked before, so I don’t even know why I tried.

When she doesn’t power up, I roll my eyes, grabbing a bottle of disinfectant from the shelf and dropping it on the ground.

Tallulah is up and running in a matter of seconds.

"No. Stop.” I move forward to stop her from going to the bottle. “Tallulah, I have a huge favor to ask.”

“ :0 ? ”

“You remember that glowy thing I gave to you?”

“👍”

“Good. Where is it?”

A box on her build opens, revealing the chipped off piece of Revitalization Grain. But I can’t just take it.

“Well, that’s good that you haven’t lost it. Can I have it back, please?”

“ :( ”

“OK, it’s not that I want it. I need it.”

“ >:( ”

I’m serious. There’s no time to argue.“

” 🤬💢🖕🗣🔫🚫✖❗ “

I lick my teeth beneath my pursed lips, realizing this isn’t going to be as easy as it seemed.

"Look, Tallulah, I know you like it. It’s pretty. It’s glowy. I get it.” I soften my tone. “But there are people out there who are dying. A lot of people. But this tiny little stone? It can help them get better. If you give it back to me, you’re saving the lives of so many. You could be a hero.” My brows raise.

“…”

Wow, talk about being left on read.

“ 🆗️ ”

“Yes. Jesus Christ! Thank you!” I quickly hug her. She hands me the small stone, and I pat her on the head. “You’re a lifesaver. Literally.”

“ 🤺 ”

Not sure what she meant by that one, but I leave her to it. I hold the small rock tight in my hand, seeing its glow seep through the gaps in my fingers. And I can’t believe that there’s a chance we can help Alaska save Glamtron. Even if I can’t be with her, I would feel better knowing everything is better back on her planet.

I pass the kitchen and stop dead in my tracks. Shea’s all alone, just staring out at the window. Fuck. I can feel it. The dread creeping up.

“Captain,” I address her. It feels weird calling her that. She’s just been 'Shea’ for a long time now. But with the new task, I guess it’s only appropriate.

She looks away from the window, taken by surprise. “Jinkx, you scared me.” She sniffs, quickly wiping at her eyes. Fuck, this isn’t good.

I walk into the room. “You feeling OK?”

She sighs. “Yeah, I guess I will be.”

She goes back to looking out the window. Standing next to her, I follow her gaze. And I immediately recognize the area.

Large masses of rock float around in the distance. Remains of the Earth.

I purse my lips for a moment, trying to make sense of it. I almost feel confused by what I’m looking at. I know what happened, but it still feels…unfamiliar. “You’d think someone would clean this mess up,” I say.

“No. This is a graveyard, Jinkx. It has to stay.” Shea states.

“Fair enough.”

We continue to stare, like we’re in some sort of trance, watching the pieces float around.

“Wanna hear something funny?” Shea asks, giving me a sad smile.

The mournful aura is weighing down on both of us. Something funny right now would be great. “Yeah, of course.”

“As soon as she broke in, I knew it was our chance—a new purpose. Finally, for the first time in a long, long time, we get to do our thing. And I was…so fucking excited. I couldn’t fucking wait.” She laughs.

I don’t find it funny, but her happiness is making me happy.

But her smile drops. And I know now when she said if I wanted to hear something funny, it wasn’t going to be funny at all.

“But then what? What happens after we leave Celestia?” She asks, looking at me with wet eyes.

Nothing happens. We go back to the same old shit and hope that something good happens.

Shea must’ve been holding back a sob because she chokes, grabbing my attention. She covers her mouth as if it will hold back the other ones.

“Hey, it’ll be fine.” I grab her free hand.

But my words are meaningless. I don’t know if it will be OK or not. So I hug her hoping it’ll help some.

She whispers in my ear, “I just want my family.”

I’m devastated. I really am the lucky one. Who knew being abandoned by my own mother at such a young age could be such a blessing? Because this anguish Shea is expressing? It’s soul-destroying.

She cries into my shoulder some more, and I run my thumb along the back of her shoulder. I can’t even tell her it’s alright. Because I know it won’t be.

I look at the stone in my hand, still hugging Shea. If only this stupid glowy thing could restore the life of this ship. If only it brought back the good times, the adventure, the danger.

I continue to stare at the stone. And I have no idea why, but something I thought about earlier resurfaces.

The loving Queen who went out of her way for her people.

“Fuck.” I whisper.

“I’m sorry.” Shea sniffles, lifting her head. She dabs her eyes with her pinky.

“It’s not you. It’s - -” I begin. But I fail to find words to explain my thought process.

All I can say is I know what I need to do now.

I look at my Captain for what will probably be the last time. “Shea, when the time is right, come find me.”

“What?”

“You’ll know what I mean.”

I pull away from her and go to leave the room, her voice calling after me. But I don’t listen. I need to do this.

-_-_-_-

Alaska stands as I enter the room. I pull the stone from my pocket, and she’s already drawn.

“Fuck, you weren’t kidding when you - -”

I cut her off with a kiss, something to give her more energy. I don’t know how much she’ll need to make it to the escape pod, but hopefully, this should do it.

I pull away. “Change of plan, hon’. You wanna rob the museum?”

“What?” Her brows cross.

“I’m gonna make things right - I’m gonna get the Revitalization Grain back, we’re gonna take it back to Glamtron. And I don’t care if that makes me some sort of intergalactic space villain. When the time comes, we’re gonna fight for your planet.” I babble, and only when I finish do I realize how nuts I sound.

Alaska’s blinking, as if struggling to comprehend everything I just said. “Jinkx, you know the stone? You know it’s called the Glitter Bomb, right? And before you argue, yes, I named it that.”

I roll my eyes, adoring her dorky side. And I hand over the piece of the stone. If we’re getting the glitter bomb - as she calls it- she might as well have this piece now.

As soon as it’s in her hand, she’s glowing. It’s breathtaking.

She’s breathtaking.

“Come on. We need to get to an escape pod quick.” I take her hand.

“No need. I say we take the quicker way.”

“And that is?”

She wraps her long arms around my waist. “You better hang tight.”

And in a matter of seconds, light envelopes us. And the atmosphere changes. We’re outside. If it wasn’t for my trust in her, I’d panic at the thought of suffocating. But I can breathe, and I know it’s one of her quirks.

We’re blasting at the speed of light, passing many planets and stars that would take weeks to pass. And I wonder if people on other planets are looking up at us right now, thinking we’re a shooting star and making wishes.

Speaking of wishes, I kind of wish I could see what’s happening back at the ship. I can just picture it. The sight of Alaska and I whooping by the windows, Shea realizing what’s going on, giving commands and ordering everyone to get a move on. Ivy trying to figure out where we went, giving her plenty of searching to do. Milk, Kameron, and Bob working on kicking the ship back into action. Everyone just running around, trying to shake the energy back into themselves.

'Cause they have a new purpose now. I am their enemy. And that couldn’t make me happier. Because I know they’ll be thankful for giving this to them, something we all had been waiting for.

But what makes me happier, more than anything, is that I’m here with Alaska. We’re going to save Glamtron, the planet formally known as Celestia. We’re going to protect it at all costs.

And, most importantly, I’m going to be with her for the rest of my life.

#rpdr fanfiction #jinkx monsoon #alaska thunderfuck #ivy winters #shea coulee #courtney act #bianca del rio #jalaska #fluff #sci fi #angst #hurt/comfort #lesbian au #head in the clouds #grinder #concrit welcome

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