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hxneekyuu · 3 years

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accidental kiss || tsukishima kei, ennoshita chikara, miya atsumu, lev haiba

request : Hey Can I request a headcanon or one shot with Haikyuu characters (any of your choices) having an accidental kiss with their crush, you know, the cliché romance scene in drama's where the girl fell and male catches her and end ups kissing, or something when the girl turn around not noticing the close distance between the male, and their lips touches. Anything that is accidental

warnings : miya atsumu, Suna Gets a Haircut

a/n : so i did one of those random hq generator things bc i could only decide on one boi and that was tsukki,,, the results made me laugh so here you go -- btw these are all gonna be pre-dating bc thats just wonderful we love that

tsukishima kei

this is definitely all tsukkis fault

you two are at your house just vibing and at some point you head into the kitchen to make food

and hes leaning against the counter right in front of the cabinet you need to get to

but he has the audacity not to move the fuck outta the way when you tell him you need to get past

so youre like ok fuck it and just reach around him to open it

but the bowl you need is pretty high up so youre like on your tippy toes tryna get the damn thing and hes just sitting there watching you struggle

instead of helping you like he isnt damn near 6′3″

but riiiiight as youve got the bowl, you end up grabbing it a little too forcefully and you bring like a million dishes down with it

so ofc even though he definitely deserves it, youre not trying to concuss the poor guy with literal ceramic dishes raining down on him

so you kinda lunge forward to stop them all from falling

and, hearing the crash of dishes over his head, he naturally ducks because he doesnt want to die

honestly,,,, its more of a crash of your noses and foreheads but theres such chaos of like,,, trying not to die??

that at some point you just feel his mouth on yours and it deadass just stays there while you both are figuring out what the hell is happening

eventually he kinda pulls back but only a little bc he knows youre struggling to hold onto the dishes and he doesnt wanna screw that up

and he doesnt even say anything he just reaches up awkwardly and helps you set the dishes back on the shelf

and then he grabs the bowl youd been trying the get the entire time and hands it to you with a completely blank face

its a very awkward dinner im not gonna lie

mostly bc at some point he just starts cracking jokes about it and refuses to acknowledge it seriously bc he sucks

ennoshita chikara

ennoshita’s taking a break from studying with the second years on the team

mostly bc he never gets any studying done with them

so youre studying together for a test at his house

and its just been many many hours of studying so ofc youre both exhausted

so its not surprising to him when you just pass out on your notes

but the thing is,,, your heads right on top of a sheet that he needs

and for a while he just kinda studies without it

he studies other stuff and tries to remember it on his own so he can fill in the gap in his notes

but eventually hes like fuck i really need these notes

so he just,,, tries to slide it out from under your head really carefully

and it involves a lot of him getting really close and trying to lift your head and a bunch of really soft cute things that would be super embarrassing for him to be caught doing

like,,, if you happened to wake up

which of course, you do

and youre really confused bc you can feel his breath fanning over your face and his eyes are really close but not focused on you, theyre focused on smth under your face

so you lift your head to see what hes doing

but he freaks out and moves his face when he notices youre awake

and its just a litto brush of your lips over his as your faces are passing each other

but the poor bub jumps back like you just shocked the crap out of him

and then he apologizes for like the next ten minutes and its impossible to get back to studying bc youre both just panicking internally

miya atsumu

this literally happens like it does in the movies

it all starts with a chase scene

that really you should never have been a part of

youre just minding your business walking down the hall after school on your way to get your stuff

and its pretty empty bc you had a club thing so its late afternoon and no ones around

and you just hear it

men screaming

and then he appears, barreling around the corner like his life depends on it

and youre like

this cant be good

and when he sees you hes yelling out for you like HELP ME

but you somehow always manage to get caught in the miya twin antics so youre like

fuck no im out

but apparently youre not out bc atsumus grabbing your arm and dragging you behind him yelling smth about scissors and a haircut

and when you look back you just see suna rounding the corner, half of his little triangle haircut chopped off so he looks like a sad half onigiri,,,

but you know it was atsumu and that this man is definitely dead when suna catches him

so youre like okay fuck it i guess im helping him AGAIN

and you get outside to a section of the school where theres still sports teams practicing and lots of people around so you hide in a corner together

but the Suna Energy is approaching so atsumu fuckin freaks and does that cheesy movie thing where he ducks his head down so he wont be seen

but theres like a group of guys passing by and one of them just bumps into atsumus back and that shit just sends him right into you

and all he can think is “oops”

he only has one brain cell give him a break

but he just stalls completely and forgets about the whole suna thing

but ofc his hair is fucking piss yellow and suna has not forgotten

he ends up totally getting his ass beat but after that little smooch atsumus definitely a bit keen to see you more often

lev haiba

i fucking love this gif look at the litto shoyou go

this tall babie does not know the meaning of personal space he has no functional understanding of a Bubble

honestly he probably gets dangerously close to kissing you on a regular basis, considering you’re seatmates in class

he’s just ALWAYS in your space

at first he’s probably shy bc he doesn’t know you

but once you become friends he’s like THIS IS NOT YOUR DESK THIS IS JUST MY SECOND DESK

so every day there’s always one thing that’s super dangerous

last week it was him looking over your shoulder while you did work silently

yesterday it was him reaching across you to open the window on your left side

today he just really wants a bite of the bread you bought and are currently already eating

and when he wants smth, he gets Very Whiny

he’s so clingy and adorable that you can’t ever get mad

he’s like a little puppy how can you resist him

so when you’re finally like okay fine you can have a bite he’s like

MONCH

he doesn’t even wait for you to tear off a piece he just leans in for a bite

but you had said yes while in the middle of biting it so he essentially does that thing where you’re both biting it at the same time

but, again, he doesn’t know what personal space means

so he also doesn’t have the ability to gauge distances well

so he straight up just meets you halfway and presses his mouth to yours while he’s biting down

the boi probably doesn’t even notice

he just pulls back quickly once he has his bite and goes about his life

you literally are going to have to tell him he just kissed you

and after that he’s a total fucking mess

he doesn’t know what to do he never knows what to do

he’s just going to keep causing Chaos while he panics

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #ennoshita chikara #ennoshita x reader #miya atsumu #atsumu x reader #lev haiba #lev x reader #haikyuu headcanons

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eclectickss · 3 years

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PGATW Part 1

Wanda Maximoff x Natasha Romanoff x OC (fem!reader)

Summary: The avengers take a vacation to a private island rental off of the Georgia coast! You now have an opportunity to spend time with your new family, especially Wanda and Natasha.

Word Count: 2.5K

Check out my main post for links to the rest of the parts.

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"Hey Jarvis, call everyone in for a team meeting." Tony says as he walks into the main common area with Pepper right behind him. His fresh appearance made the ginger smile, but she was a little worried for the conversation that Tony was about to have with everyone.

"Do you really think that this is a good idea, Tony? I mean everyone just returned from the month long Sokovia Reconstruction Project. Don't you think they need to rest a little before you throw this on them?" She sighed as she sat down on the couch, Tony following suit with a drink in hand.

"I think this will be the perfect way to relax, plus it will help the new kid get a chance to bond with everyone without anything getting in her way." He paused, sipping his beverage. "I know this might not interest everyone immediately, but I think a little vacation time is just what the team needs." He responded with thin lips and Pepper took a deep breath.

"Okay. I trust you." She smiles and leans on him, a pause entering the conversation. Tony looked at her.

"Did you not trust me before?" He mocked and she giggled.

"At least if the team doesn't want to go on a vacation, much less relax, I really hope you're right in assuming that it will help Talia fit in." She sighed.

"Didn't you just say that you trusted me?" He messes with Pepper again, starting to hear voices down the hall.

"Oh my Gods. Shut up, here they come." She sits up as the rest of the team enters the common area.

Bruce enters first with Clint who now has a fresh bandage on his upper arm, the two of them arriving from the med bay apparently. Thor, Steve and Pietro also enter, followed by Natasha and Wanda, who were whispering about something before sitting down with everyone else. The last two people needed were You and Peter, but y'all were nowhere to be seen.

"Alright, where are the kids?" Tony sarcastically rolled his eyes in await for a response from someone.

"Their not kids, Tony. Peter is, what... 20? and Talia is 26?" Steve chimes in.

"They're kids, Steve." Tony replied.

Natasha and Wanda locked eyes.

"26 is not a kid, Tony." Pietro looks confused, searching for reactions from anyone else.

"I agree with my brother." Wanda slightly smiles, but for her own reasons other than pissing off Tony. People murmured in agreement.

Tony breathes to retort, but all of a sudden, two voices are heard in the hall, yours included.

"IM GONNA BEAT YOU!"

"NO YOU'RE NOT, WEB KID." You shout back.

Tony raises an eyebrow as you accuse Peter of being a "kid", but everyone has turned their attention to the hallway to see what is about to come out of it. The next thing everyone registers is a spider string grabbing onto the cement post behind the couch and Peter practically flying into the room.

You leaped at his feet to stop him, but you were too late, and instead fell over the couch onto Nat and Wanda. Unintentionally, of course.

"HAHA TALIA! I BEAT YOU! I WON." You collected your breath before yelling back.

"YOU DIPSHIT! YOU CHEATED! YOU SAID NO POWERS." You slowly picked yourself up off of the two women, fully aware of the slightly awkward situation you were in at the moment. Too focused on Peter, you failed to notice Natasha and Wanda locking eyes and blushing, but you know you certainly were. Perhaps the red cheeks passed as exhaustion from sprinting down the hall.

"I DIDN'T USE POWERS, TAL!" He held out his wrists. "See!" You locked eyes. "Technology." Peter tapped his web shooters pridefully and sat down on the couch where you were standing. "Plus, I said no powers because you can literally teleport." He finished.

"Whatever." You rolled your eyes and looked for a new spot on the couch, only seeing a small gap at Nat and Wanda's thighs.

That's funny. That wasn't there before.

You blushed before taking your seat.

"You were right, Tony." Wanda started on your right, looking straight into your eyes, making you silently squirm. "They're absolute kids."

Your eyes widened at the comment, and although you knew it was true, you mockingly slapped her thigh, not at all missing the deep shade of red that her cheeks turned. She has a girlfriend who is on the opposite side of me. Why did I think that would be a good idea? If only you knew that Natasha's cheeks were impossibly red too.

"Ouch, Wanda. That hurt my feelings." You sighed, sinking into the cushions behind you.

"Adults don't run in the halls, Talia."

Your stomach turned as your name rolled off of her accent.

"K-Kids don't run in the halls either. They're not allowed to." You mustered up a terrible comeback, noticing Peter's grin across from you, attempting not to break. He was the only one who knew about your little crush on Nat and Wanda, so his reaction was even more taunting.

At your remark though, Natasha placed her hand on your thigh and pushed it down to your knee, leaning to whisper in your ear.

You could practically feel her lips against your skin as you were silently panicking at the nearly non existent space between the two of you. "Disobedient ones do," She whispered.

And that shut you up real quick, you're whole face experiencing a new shade and eyes a new size. You missed the wink Nat shared with Wanda, and even the first parts of Tony's conversation went a little over your head.

"Alright, team, So I was thinking,"

"That's rare." Clint quipped, Tony glaring at him.

"I was thinking... that since we just had an amazing and fruitful month long mission in Sokovia, that you all would be in need of some vacation time." He started and people perked up.

"You mean like getting time off?" Steve asked.

"No." Now the team looked confused. "Since Talia is a recent addition, and Peter is... relatively new as well... i was thinking we could take a group trip to the beach!" He added a little excitement to the end of his sentence, but he was the only one who really shared that sentiment.

Banner tilted his head. "We don't really do that kinda stuff, Tony." He grumbled.

"Well, why not start? We could use some bonding time, and we're a family, right? This is what families do! C'mon! Ittl be fun."

"Sounds fun to me?" You chimed in, excited to have an opportunity to spend some time with everyone without being in imminent danger. Everyone looked at you. "I don't know too much about this group dynamic yet, since all i've done with the Avengers yet is reconstruction projects in Sokovia, but when I work in a team, I like to know who i'm working with." You paused. "Plus a beach. Relaxing. Movie nights, surfs, and crabs." You saw one or two eyebrows raise. "Who doesn't like crabs." You now sat in awkward silence.

"Talia is right!" Tony started again. "It will just be for two weeks, and I already rented the island. You're doing it."

"YOU RENTED AN ISLAND???" Peter jumped up.

"Yeah Kid, go pack your shit. Be here at 8 in the morning." Tony softly smiled and watched as he ran down the hall to the elevators.

"THERES ONLY ONE WASHING MACHINE SO PACK ENOUGH!"

"OK, MR. STARK!"

"AND TELL AUNT MAY I SAID HELLO!"

"GOODNIGHT, MR. STARK!"

The conversation returned to silence.

"Ok, you saw the kid. Get to packing!" Tony smiled, and you were happy. This was your first shot at family, so you didn't want to fuck it up.

It was also your chance to be close with Natasha and Wanda, and even though they were dating, you had appreciated their friendship during the SRP (Sokovia Rebuilding Project) and you didn't want it to come to an end. Your crush might be pointless, but that doesn't stop you from wanting to be around them. Hopefully you will get over it soon.

Later that night in the tower, Natasha and Wanda were having their own thoughts about you.

"What do you think, honey? Now is the perfect time to ask Talia." Wanda made another trip from the closet to her suitcase while Natasha sat on the bed and watched her pack.

"Yeah, she's just a little new and I don't wanna scare her off."

"Well look at the three of us in Sokovia. If she isn't scared off now by an assassin and powerful witch, then what else is there to be scared of?" Wanda pushed out a half- hearted laugh.

"No, I guess you're right. We found someone that we feel completes us, right? We have to chase that feeling." Natasha smiled and Wanda sat down next to her.

"Exactly. And if she says no, we never bring it up again."

"Of course." She paused. You did see her blush today though, no?" This made Wanda smile.

"She's so cute, Nat. She was so flustered." The witch paused. "What did you say to her that made her shut up completely? It turned me on, watching her react like that." She slowly kissed Natasha's neck.

"Well, she had said 'Kids don't run in the halls. They're not allowed to.'," Wanda nodded, remembering the comment. "I told her that the disobedient ones do.'" The girls blushed, Nat at the memory and Wanda at the image.

"So she liked that? Imagine calling her 'good girl', Natasha. Imagine telling her to behave and punishing her when she doesn't."

"God, Wanda, don't even get me started." The spy almost moaned as her girlfriend slowly straddled her.

"We can edge her endlessly and make her beg." Wanda's hips rolled as her lips found a spot on Natasha's collar bone. "You can make her cum so many times while I eat you out too."

Natasha was in bliss, not wanting to stop, even though they should. "Let's go ask her first before letting go of our imaginations, honey. We can finish this later too."

"You have a point." Wanda sighed and rested her head on Natasha's shoulder. "Let's go."

Meanwhile, you were looking through your closet for swimsuits, which was still a little bit of a mess since you just moved in. Finally, you found the box with the suits, and not so gracefully, you placed it on your bed. As you began to sort out the tops from the bottoms and the sets from the one-pieces, you heard a knock at your door.

You turned your music down and opened the door to find the two women who filled your daydreams, leaving you momentarily speechless. Quickly snapping out of it though, you almost stumbled through your words.

"Hey Tasha, Wanda, what's up?" You acted like their presence was nothing, turning around and continuing to sort out your swim wear. You managed to toss a yellow suit back into the box and a white one into the case before they said anything.

"Is it alright if we come in?" Wanda asked. You blushed, realizing you never invited them inside.

"Of course! Sorry if you find my room a little messy, but i'm still moving in." You pushed a collection of clothes off of the end of the bed. "You may sit if you like, though." You swallowed as the two of them took you up on your offer. Natasha and Wanda are both on my bed. It's cool....

"So what can I do for you?" You continued your packing, now holding up a red bikini in the mirror before tossing it back into the box. Natasha and Wanda shared a look.

"We actually have an odd question to ask you, Talia." The Sokovian started. "A proposal, if you will." This now got your full attention, and you pull over your desk stool to sit in front of them. "As you know Natasha and I love each other very much." You begin to worry, thinking that they felt uncomfortable around you or that your crush was too obvious. Natasha picked up the conversation.

"The two of us have loved each other for a long time, and it will continue to be like this, Talia. Nothing is faulty in our relationship. We have health communication tactics and we know how to handle the other when something is wrong." You were a little confused now, and not as much worried, so you continued listening. "Something that has always been a part of our relationship, though, is the knowledge and idea that we might be in search of someone else. Another piece to our puzzle, if you will." Your heart was racing now, the conversation switching back to Wanda.

"We are asking you if you would like to join our relationship, Talia." You shivered at the accent again, but you couldn't process thoughts anymore. The two exact women that you only thought you would dream about are now in front of you, asking you to be with them. You with them. Natasha and Wanda. "If you say no, you can forget this ever happened and we will never mention it again."

They awaited any response from you.

"And if I say yes?" You almost whispered, Natasha and Wanda's hearts beating loud, but maybe not as much as yours.

"This vacation would be our trial and error. You can test the waters. Play your part. You tell us whenever you're uncomfortable or are having second thoughts and no questions asked, that's it. We just really like you and wanted to offer you a spot with us."

"And this isn't a joke?" You spoke softly, your thoughts and heart going a mile a minute. This is really happening. My crushes are telling me that they want me. Me? They both shake their head, and you stare in disbelief.

"This is real, Talia." Nat nearly whispers. "Entirely real."

Your own thoughts betray you as you stand up and slowly walk over to the two women.

You tried to think about what you wanted to say, but took the risk to stop thinking before you speak. "I have been seriously crushing on the both of you for a while now, and treating you like the kind of opportunity that I only get in my rarest dreams. I've been staring at you and imagining things that go way beyond the boundaries of friends...." Their breaths hitched. "so I swear if you are fucking with me-" Your breath is heavy and hot now as the three of you are inches away.

"We're not fucking with you, Talia." Wanda whispers. "We just want to fuck you."

#wanda maximoff #natasha x wanda #wanda x natasha x reader #natasha x wanda x reader #wanda x natasha #wanda x you #wanda x reader #natasha x oc #wanda x oc #natasha x you #natasha x reader #natahsa romanoff #gxgxg smut #gxgxg #marvelfanfic #marvel gxgxg #marvel smut

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wizkiddx · 3 years

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heyheyhey idk if u do req but love your dad tom stuff! PLZ PLZ do tom helping his kids with homework but cant do it and reader has to help and its all fluffy 😩💕

ye im down to do req and this had me going completely ott cos its v cute (and a lot less angsty than what ive written recently aha) so apologies for my ramblings:

Summary: tom has the kids for a day and maths homework throws a spanner in the works - tomhollandxreader

implied smut + v slight reference to porn but basically just fluff I promise xox

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Tom had dealt with a lot of whining today. Nova and Leo were the absolute joys of his life, there was no doubt about it. Of course, he also loved you a hell of a lot too - sometimes to his detriment though, hence the position he was in now.

You’d had a busy week at work and he had been away for the first half of it - leaving you as an almost single mother to a 5 and a 7 year old. So completely fairly, you’d asked if he wouldn’t mind watching the kids for a the day on Sunday, allowing you to go to a friends baby shower. There was no answer but to agree, Tom loved quality time with the kids and he wanted you to kick back and relax with you friends too.

However the afternoon had not been nearly as idealistic as it were supposed to be in his head. You had left him only one real job (apart from the unavoidable essentials of keeping the kids alive with food and water, something you’d hope he need not be reminded about now). Really it shouldn’t of been that hard, it was just each kid had two pieces of homework. After convincing and cajoling the kids into sitting at the table which he’d already set up with Nova’s ‘Liverpool FC’ and Leo’s ‘captain marvels’ pencil case, the English was easy.

In fact 5 year old Leo took great joy out of writing a poem with his Dad, which basically involved trying to rhyme any word with another - especially when he tried to convince Tom that all his completely fictitious words were real and worked together. A personal favourite had been ‘snakes’ and ‘palakes’ which Leo was convinced meant pancakes - arguing so vehemently Tom almost started to doubt himself on basic English.

Thankfully though his eldest and most sensibly child eventually took him out his misery. If anyone had any control over the Holland boys, Leo and Tom - it was the Holland girls. You and Nova had both boys completely under you spell, often taking advantage of the fact too. It was only when Nova got bored of hearing Tom and Leo mock arguing, interspersed with the little boys giggles that Tom tried his absolute hardest to keep a straight face at, that she swooped in.

“Stop being silly Leo, mummy told you he’s not good at school!” She looked oh so innocent, eyes immediately flicking down to continue the little short story she was happily going on with. In response Tom scowled, knowing your highly curious and intelligent daughter had asked you (for one reason or another) why he was not so academic. Yet instead of Leo bursting out laughing, instead he just nodded and accepted it too - making Tom scowl even more. Not even Leo thought it was a joke.

So apart from his children apparently taking pity on his simple mind, it was all going smoothly. Perhaps, due to the thankful fact your children had inherited their brains from their mother - something Tom was forever thankful for, until he was shamed for his substandard intellect in the family. Then again though, he was Spiderman. So take that.

Until Nova brought out her maths sheet. Then the afternoon quickly descended into chaos. It was fractions, something she hadn’t quite grasped from school yet - a concept that still hurt her head somewhat. Normally though it’d be fine, she’d bring the sheet to you and the two of you used ‘ girl power’ to figure it out… you prior experience as a tutor while in uni helping you know how to break through to her.

Unfortunately Tom didn’t share this same experience. Nor did Tom share a maths qualification… something that had evaded him completely during his schooling career. Of course, it had never been a particular issue, acting didn’t require the use of maths and algebra and Tom was in a very lucky position of being able to pay someone to manage his finances from a very young age. So no, dividing 2/3 and 3/7 didn’t come the most naturally to him. Or at all to be quite honest.

“I CANT DO IT AND GRACE IN MY CLASS COULD!” For context, Grace was one of her school friends, who forever liked to compare herself to the young Holland - especially because she was normally ahead. Nova had gone from quiet frustration, staring at the questions with her tongue sticking out slightly, to one of pure rage - yelling at her dad with tears in her eyes. Nova was normally incredibly intuitive, she always found it difficult when she couldn’t do something. Now, with a ‘teacher’ who was more useless than her - the frustrations inevitably bubbled over.

“Hey, we can work it out, just calm-“

“YOU CANT DO IT EITHER YOUR STUPID “ She was just young and frustrated, Tom tried not to take it personally but … it wasn’t always easy. Chiefly because this was the height of offensive statement Nova knew - this was her version of adult explicit language.

“Nova you can’t be rude.” He used his stern voice, something Tom very rarely used with his little girl. Though he never wanted to upset her, neither did he want her to think it was ever okay to be so rude to anyone like that- no matter how crappy at maths they were. It hurt him to do so but it was necessary - life lessons about the importance of being kind needed to be learnt. And it worked… if what Tom was aiming for was his beautiful baby girl’s eyes to brim with sparkling tears, her bottom lip quivering slightly.

Instantly Tom’s eyebrows drooped, trying to fight his natural reaction to scoop her onto his knee and reassure her everything was okay. But as you had lectured him many a time before, he had to put his foot down once in a while. So instead, the father and daughter were locked in a silence and intense eye contact, until Nova hesitantly began to speak.

“I’m sorry Daddy.” During which, Nova shoved her chair back, making it screech against the tiled floors uglily before running off up the stairs. Tom knew she was crying a lot. Knew this was going to take a bit of fixing.

With a sigh of his daughters name, Tom popped his head into the living to check on Leo who had already finished all his stuff. Seeing him completely zombified in front of ‘paw patrol’ on TV, Tom trudged up the stairs. He knew where she was, when Nova was upset she always hid in the corner of her wardrobe and cried in the darkness. So after steadying himself with a little internal monologue of how to approach the situation Tom walked in and sat down beside the wardrobe - knocking on the door slightly.

“Nova… can we talk please?” All he heard was sniffing echoing from the wooden chamber until she tried to shout through the door.

“Go-go… go away daddy.” It broke his heart, the way her voice wavered, making Tom pout - gently letting his head fall against the wardrobe doors.

“I don’t want you to be upset beautiful…. And you did apologise which I appreciate. You know why Daddy got angry right?” Her sniffles heightened before she muttered a quiet ‘yes’. “And you are sorry? Because that might’ve made me really sad too.”

“I’m s-s-sorry, I didn’t mean it.”

“Then that’s good and we don’t need to cry. You want a cuddle little one?” Before Tom could even properly get up the door was being pushed open by her little hands, revealing a tear stained face and big glassy eyes looking up at her Dad. Swiftly Tom scooped her up and out of the cupboard, whispering to her while she buried her face in his chest.

“Oh come here my little bean.”

//////////////////////

When you came home late that evening, only mildly exhausted from spending the whole day gossiping with your girls, it was weirdly quiet. All the lights were out in the front room, which made you close the door gently, thinking Tom had managed to exhaust the kids - and himself in the process. With a relieved sigh at the peace you pattered into the kitchen to get yourself a drink (it had been a little concern that Tom would’ve worked the kids into a hyperactive and delerious state that kept them up long past bedtime - which ultimately you’d have to deal with). The house was remarkably silent and though it was clear from the littered toys everywhere that it had indeed been Tom alone in charge, everything seemed pretty okay.

It was only as you were about to head upstairs to join your hubby in bed that you realised the study light was still on, streaming through the small crack in the doorframe. Assuming Tom had just neglected to turn it off, in otherwords Tom being Tom, you nudged it open with your hand. Surprisingly though, there was your husband, hunched over the desk, looking almost angrily focused - between the computer screen and a piece of paper below him. Normally you would’ve just assumed it was another script sent over or an edit Harry had sent of another screenplay they were writing together.

But no, the blatant red flag was the screen that you could see. A screen on YouTube, of a man pointing at a whiteboard of fractions.

So with a soft wrist you wrapped your knuckled on the side of the door, even if you had technically already entered the room. The reaction had you stifling a laugh, it was as if you’d caught him watching something *less PG* the way he jumped out his seat, closing the browser immediately.

“Love!! I -er … didn’t know you’d got back?”

“I just did.” You smiled gently, while walking into stand behind his chair, wrapping your arms round his neck and pressing a kiss to his jaw. “Soooo…. what’ca doingggg” The glee in your voice was evident, making Tom groan and shut his eyes.

“I hate you, you know that right?”

“No you don’t… but you were watching a primary school video on fractions, if I’m not so mistaken?” He sighed deeply, making a point of turning the paper with his scribbles over to obscure it.

“Nova’s homework.. she couldn’t do it and neither could I, so then she basically screamed at me for being thick and udseless and then had a breakdown.”

Now you felt guilty. This was a bit of a sore spot with Tom, he always for some reason felt inferior because of his academic ability. Which was stupid- mainly because he was the most clever and talented man you’d ever met. Just…. Just not at fraction.

“Oh T… you could’ve just left it for me to do with her, I don’t mind.”

“That’s not the point Y/n.” He snapped a little, shrugging your arms off him and spinning in the chair so he could face you. “She’s my daughter and I should be able to help her! It’s not like it’s that hard, it’s just I’m unbelievable thick.”

“Tom stop. Look - you can do this I assure you, it’s just been a long old time ‘kay? Your rusty and that’s only natural.”

“I really don’t think I could ev-“

“Can I teach you? It’s just the method and then I promise you’ll get it.”

It took a bit of persuasion but eventually Tom agreed, letting you pull the corner chair forward to beside his desk so you could demonstrate it to him. To be fair, he really could do it- just a bit of familiarising on the ‘stick-change-flip’ method. The way the lightbulb moment literally caused his face to light up; scurrying to do the question for himself, tongue sticking out in the process; then presenting it to you proudly - well it had you melting in your seat.

“See! That took all of 5 minutes and you got it.” You elbowed his side by leaning forward in the chair, which instead of letting go, Tom reached and caught, before pulling you up and round. You landed with you bum perched on the edge of the mahogany desk, Tom now stood up- his legs in-between your parted thighs - your feet hooking round the back of knees.

“It’s all down to my incredibly talented teacher.”

“No…. No I really don’t think it is” You mused with a soft voice, fingers instinctively going to the nape of his neck - twirling the little curls round your fingertips.

“Well even so… I think I could teach you a thing or two too.” Never one to mull on anything, Tom’s tone had immediately switched to something a lot more… mischievous.

“Not even going to ask about my day? Wheres the chat mr smooth?” He had to repress the grin at your smirk because as much as you infuriated the hell out of him - you also had this weird ability of making him feel so entranced and helpless. He relented with a sarcastic chime.

“Fine, how was your day love.”

“Good…. but I have a feeling you’re about to make it a whole lot better.”

That was all the signals he needed to lean forward, in doing so forcing you back until your back landed completely on the cool wood. His lips feathered yours, both hands pinned either side of your head.

“Oh darling… you have no idea.”

#tom holland #tomholland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x you #fluff #Tom Holland angst

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danniburgh · 3 years

Text

Rushingly Bittersweet, (Javier Peña x f!reader) part 1.

Pairing: Javier Peña x ofc//f!reader with name.

Summary: After the fall of Escobar everything starts happening way too fast for Javier; his raise, his new office, his new team, the Cali cartel's operation, the sudden arrival of a new agent that was transferred to his team for no apparent reason, the way he was falling in love with her almost unintentionally.

And he couldn't seem to stop any of that.

Word count: +2.1k

Series warnings: talks and mentions of misogyny and sexism, cursing, smoking, drinking, eventual sex, cartel shit, watch me make some shit up to fit reader inside the narrative, guns, dea shit, feels, javier actually being a little bit more introspective, just basically me inserting reader into the third season

Chapter warnings: depictions of misogyny and some cursing

A/N: This chapter is set in season three, episode one. // this has been simmering in the back of my head for way too long, i even made a post about it just trying to ease the weight of my thoughts but my mind keeps racing with more things about this exact story, so here goes nothing. THIS GOES ALONG THE CANON OF THE THIRD SEASON kinda (so yeah, spoilers if you haven’t watched it yet), i actually had to watch it to write this because in the end, you’re a fucking DEA agent baby (also please keep in mind that english is not my native language, im really trying for this to be GOOD)

Read on ao3 // fic index // Masterlist // fic playlist

comments and reblogs are eternally appreciated 💓 let me know if you wanna be tagged

// next→

You knew you chose a difficult job, hell, a difficult career, you knew you had to prove yourself, your worth and your abilities countless times, at this point it wasn’t even that much of a surprise anymore. Every time you encountered another man in the office or in the field, you had to spend an incredible amount of time first proving you were capable and you knew what you were doing before even getting to work.

Yet you got comfortable in your previous destination, you had a team, you had people to trust and trusted you back, they knew you were more than capable, you didn’t have to tell them to listen to you or your ideas, you didn’t have to ask for anyone’s approval. You were just another agent.

But now you had to do it all over again.

“Shit” you growled, trying to unwrinkle your blazer with one hand, the flight down to Colombia hadn’t been at all gentle to you and you were tired and cold. Your feet were sore, your back was killing you, you were fighting the desire to get rid of your suit skirt and run to put some pants on, everybody was lying when they said Colombia was a hot place, the air was chilly, and the dress suit you were wearing barely provided any meaningful heat, and the fact that nobody went to pick you up at the airport made you even more frustrated. You were still pulling around your suitcase because apparently the embassy is such a fucking mess that not even one person told you where you were going to live yet.

You showed your badge to the guards at the doors and they let you in without much of a look. You walked right through the lobby into the elevator, sighing in relief. Thanks America and its air conditioned buildings.

The elevator doors opened and you walked straight inside of the DEA offices, they were small, cramped and dark, great, just how you liked your work spaces.

“Hi” you said, approaching the small front desk, the receptionist looked up at you and smiled, it was the first smile you saw in a while and that made you feel a little less frustrated, you pulled out the badge again and showed it to her “can you please direct me to the office of Javier Peña?” you asked.

The girl tilted her head to the left in confusion.

“Are you agent Martin?” she said with her thick american accent, you put the badge again in the pocket of your dress pants and nodded to her.

“Yes, is he– is he expecting me?”

“Not really, but agent Feistl is,” she said, pointing to a cornered desk almost in the back where a blond man was sitting, he looked up at the sound of his name and you sighed again.

“Oh, yeah, I talked to him on the phone, thank you,” you said, smiling a bit back to her while you walked around the unoccupied desks in the front of the office “Feistl” you said his name once you reached his desk, stretching out your hand to shake his “agent Martín” you said “it’s nice to meet you” he looked at you, frowning, but took your hand nonetheless and shook it.

“Chris Feistl” he said, a little taken aback and another man approached both of you “this is my partner, Daniel Van Ness” the larger man gave you a single nod and you shook his hand again.

“You’re agent Martin?” Van Ness said.

Here we go again.

“My last name is Martín, first name Florencia” you said, accentuating the í in your last name, inhaling the tension around and making it your own, yet another time “I’m guessing you were expecting a man?” you dropped, they looked at each other “don’t worry, it happens everytime” you finished with a small grin.

They remained silent, looking at you, yet another time you let them, although for a single moment you actually wondered if there was something wrong with the way you looked; you gave a glance to yourself on the elevator walls on your way up and aside from your hair being close to look like a mess you were ok, you take another second to try to analyze the men in front of you, the way they were standing, the expression on their faces, they were shocked that was for sure, but also… relieved? and somehow… happy?.

“Is there anywhere I can put this?” you asked, glancing at the suitcase.

“You came here all the way from the airport?” Feistl asked, you nodded.

“Yeah, no one showed up so I just grabbed a cab” Van Ness snorted and you looked at him. He didn’t say anything, “where’s my desk?” you asked again, starting to feel more frustrated but also a bit amused when again they didn’t say a thing, “you did get the memo that you’d be getting a new person today, right?” you questioned in a huff, a bit louder, looking at them in utter disbelief. Fucking embassy, fucking DEA.

“Is agent Martin here?” you heard your name being called from behind you, the men in front of you just widened their eyes and looked at you.

“That would be me” you announced, turning around, seeing a tall, tanned skin, sweaty man approaching you, “and you must be Javier Peña” you said, allowing yourself to be more assured, stretching your hand again.

“You are agent Martin” he said, making it sound half like a question, half an assertion, looking at you up and down, he put his hands on his hips, not bothering to take your hand.

“Florencia Martín, yes sir” you dropped down your hand and pronounced your last name again, trying to get american people to pronounce your name was hard, and you hoped at least Javier Peña would understand it, yet he said it wrong. He just stood there and you glanced at him discreetly, he, differently from the men behind you, was a walking ball of frustration, you sympathized and tried to read his posture. He was trying to be cocky but his try died in his eyes, he was shocked, surprised and not at all entertained.

“No wonder why I couldn’t find you in the airport” he growled.

“You were also expecting a man” you affirmed, this time, a small hint of disappointment grew inside your stomach “don’t worry, it happens all the time” you repeated roughly. You turned around to your new partners, not caring and ignoring the look your new boss was giving you “my desk?”

Van Ness pointed a small cubicle behind his and Feislt’s big desks, you suppressed a sigh and walked towards the space, still pulling your fucking suitcase, feeling the looks of three men in your back. You were used to this, you had done it countless times, and you knew you weren’t the only woman that has gone through this. But after spending the time you spent in one single place, with the same people, doing the same thing, after having an amazing partner that had believed in you since the day you almost punched the shit out of him on the academy, after having your own office to work with him, after having faced many masculine faces disapproving you being in the same rooms as them while chasing bad guys, after receiving thousands of condescending looks when you said anything, and yet being capable of raise everybody’s expectations, starting it all over again not only sounded hard, it also sounded exhausting.

Javier couldn’t believe his fucking luck when he looked at you. He certainly was expecting a man, Washington only told him so much and he assumed what everyone did when they heard your last name, in the end it was a masculine name. For some reason he felt guilty when you told him you always get that reaction.

He tried to examine you, ever the analyzer, but he got nothing, not from the way you were still standing in front of the ridiculously small cubicle, tapping your foot against the carpeted floor, or the way you kept putting a thin strand of hair behind your ear and it kept falling in front of your right cheekbone, nothing from the way you reached for the manila folder that was waiting to be picked up or the way your fingers moved around the pages. You seemed unreadable to him and he didn’t like that. Not one bit.

You turned around when you felt his stare, he was still just standing there, looking at you.

“Is this really everything I have to be briefed on?” you questioned him lifting the folder in your left hand. He nodded and turned to the right to walk to his office “well fuck that” you murmured under your breath. You heard Van Ness snorting again and looked at him giving you a small smile, maybe you didn’t say that as quietly as you wanted, you gave him half a grin and he shook his head.

You took off your blazer and sat on the incredibly uncomfortable chair.

“Shit” you whispered again.

“Fuck” Javier said under his breath, loosening his tie and crashing into his chair. He rubbed his eyes with the ball of his hands and sighed. What the fuck did the people at Washington think. He was after a whole fucking cartel, he didn’t have his trusted partner this time, he was alone and he had to lead a team to do that, he had just lost two agents after they were stupid and reckless going around Cali and they dared to send down one random chick in some sort of replacement that for some reason seemed just so small and frail to him.

He was pretty sure you weren’t due to the fact that you were a DEA agent, but when he looked at you the only thing he could notice was the way your eyes were dimmed, maybe due to the fluorescent lights or the fact that you had flown who-knows how many hours to be there, or the way your hands seemed way too delicate to even handle a gun, or how your body looked breakable to the touch.

He didn’t like the way his mind was forming his thoughts about you, it wasn’t right to think that way of a woman- no, a person- no, an agent he had just met, he just knew it was the macho part in him that saw you that way. He knew that if Washington had sent you all the way down to a god forsaken country fighting an unfair war, you had to be capable to endure it.

Javier scratched his stubble and reached for the thinest folder he had on his desk, it was your file. He grinned when he opened it, unbelieving of the almost non existent amount of information it had about you. It did have your full name, though, so, mistaking you for a guy was indeed his fault, just because he didn’t read the file before.

He browsed through the last locations you had been sent to and raised his eyebrows when he saw the amount of time you’d spent in the last place. No wonder why you were being so reluctant about everything you saw and how you were being treated. He remembered how he felt when he was a newcomer and he remembered what he had to go through with Steve when he first came to the country, it was awful, and even without the language barrier, as your file said you did speak spanish, he assumed you must feel like an outcast. It was never easy, arriving at a place where everything seemed like it belonged there but you.

Javier closed the file and threw it back to the pile of manila folders in front of him. He did have his doubts about you, and surely he was wondering why he had only been sent that joke of a file and nothing else, and he didn’t want to make your stay in Colombia or at the embassy a living hell, but he did want to see what you were able to do, he couldn’t wait for you to show him what you had in you.

That last thought sent him for a bit through a deliciously nasty tangent, and he had to bring himself back to the initial train of thought: you.

You were now his. No– you were now in his team. He was now your boss. He couldn’t think of you in any other way even if sometimes it couldn’t be avoided.

Javier rubbed his lower lip with his thumb, wondering what were you working on before arriving, trying to think what was happening in México that made you stay that long.

And a question was forming in his head… What the hell did you do to be sent to Colombia?

// next→

#javier peña x reader #javier peña #javier peña fanfic #javier pena fanfic #narcos #narcos fanfic #javier peña fanfiction #pedro pascal #pedro pascal characters #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal fanfiction #rushingly bittersweet tag

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thetomorrowshow · 3 years

Text

unless you take your army back ch. 2

First chapter - Read on AO3!

This chapter is a lot longer than I thought it was that’s my bad

cw: blood, intense depictions of injuries, food, flashbacks

When Crutchie woke, it was with a heaviness in the pit of his stomach. He knew that while he was not waking up from a nightmare, he would be waking into one. Another day either working hard for nothing or locked in a tiny closet, and there was nothing he could do about it.

Something was different, though. For one thing, he wasn’t quite sure where he was. He was on something soft, which couldn’t count as any surface in the Refuge. Not only that, but he didn’t feel squished or anything. There wasn’t anyone else near him, which crossed off the idea that he’d been dragged back to the room full of boys, but there was plenty of room to stretch out, so definitely not in a closet.

Maybe he had died.

As he became more aware of his body, though, he still felt pained--so probably not dead. He used to visit a church when he’d been on the streets by himself, less for concern of his mortal soul and more for the communion wafers and occasional Sunday afternoon luncheons, but he’d listened to what had been taught there. Apparently, if he died and went to Heaven he’d be healed. He had to be going to Heaven, right? He’d been baptized as a baby, after all. He didn’t really believe in it these days, but that didn’t mean he was a bad person.

He would’ve continued wondering about the fate of his soul had he not tried to flex his fingers and found both hands immobile--not because of the pain in them, but because his fingers were all wrapped up. So was his left arm, actually, which was distantly throbbing.

Reluctantly, Crutchie forced his eyes to open, grimacing at how crusty they felt. Light flooded his vision and he closed them almost immediately, then opened them a pinch.

He had no clue where he was. All he could see was a wooden ceiling. How was that supposed to help him?

It smelled sort of familiar, but it was also silent, aside from a bird chirping outside the window--which was right beside him. Actually, as he took a bigger breath (not too big, his chest was all tight and achy), he recognized something small--and then so many things, all in the scent of the air.

This was the lodging house, and with it, the smell of the soap they all used, Race’s cigar, newspapers, coffee, sweat, and that weird cologne that Jack and Romeo sometimes spent a few pennies on. He was home.

Crutchie let out a sigh. He was exhausted. Maybe he could just go back to sleep.

“Crutchie?”

So much for that idea. Crutchie shifted his vision a little, wincing as his neck cramped. Jack was sat there beside him, charcoal pencil frozen where it was poised on a paper. He looked okay, aside from a black eye. He also looked scared, for some reason, almost guilty. What had happened? Why was Crutchie at the lodging house? Why did Jack look like he was hiding something?

Crutchie decided to not bring it up at the moment, but couldn’t stop wondering. He didn’t remember all of what had happened since he’d been awoken the other morning by the Refuge kids with a cup of water, but he had vague recollections of beatings and closets and being trapped under the floor. He could also remember seeing Katherine, but that part might have been a hallucination. More importantly, he couldn’t remember how he’d gotten here and what had made Snyder let him go. If Jack had traded someone--

“How’re ya feeling?” Jack asked, and Crutchie could hear his words dripping with fatigue. He wondered how long he’d been out, that Jack had been sitting at his side for.

Crutchie opened his mouth, lips cracking, and paused at the pain that came when he tried to make his voice work. Something was up--Synder, chokin’ you, his brain reminded him. Also no water, dummy. They does that to a voice.

As if Jack knew what he was thinking, he shot up, the paper falling and pencil rolling away. “Gotcha some water waitin’,” he said, taking a few steps out of Crutchie’s line of sight and returning with a tin cup and a bowl. “Also had one o’ the fellas grab some soup from the sistas, so you can has somethin’ ta eat.” He frowned down at the bowl. “It ain’t too warm now, but it should still taste all right.”

Crutchie had the feeling that he ought to smile in thanks, but just couldn’t. He couldn’t even fathom lifting his cheeks that much--they felt oddly large and heavy. His head was pretty cloudy, anyway. It probably wouldn’t even be able to send the instructions to his mouth. Jack held the cup to his lips and he drank--the water was a bit warm, but far better than nothing--begrudgingly, wishing he could hold it himself.

As soon as all the water was gone, Jack was digging a spoon out of his pocket, preparing to feed him. If he had the energy, Crutchie would’ve sputtered in indignation. He could feed himself, thank you very much! He hadn’t let no one feed him except his mother, and that was too long ago for him to remember (he casually shoved down the image of Harley feeding him bites of sandwich, back at the Refuge).

“I can feeds myself,” he croaked out, feeling just that small movement of his mouth stretch his cheeks farther than normal. They must’ve been pretty swollen. Some of the anxious creases around Jack's eyes smoothed out.

“I know ya can,” Jack said, relief evident in his voice. “Lemme help ya sit up, then.”

Crutchie wanted to sit up himself, but he conceded this to Jack. He had to pick his battles, especially when he was so tired.

He gasped when Jack buried his arm under his back, the lashes and memories of them barraging him with agony. Jack pulled away as if he was the one who had been whipped, watching him warily. Crutchie scrunched his eyes closed, trying to stop a tear that was threatening to slip out. He wasn’t weak. He had to show Jack that he could do this.

“Want--want me to, uh, pull ya up by the arm?” Jack offered, and Crutchie nodded jerkily. That sounded bearable; his right arm wasn’t hurt all that bad.

As soon as Jack touched him, though, fear stole Crutchie’s breath. Images of thugs gripping his wrist and dragging him along on dirty floors filled his mind, and he cowered, pulling his body as close together as he could.

Someone was speaking, and Crutchie was about to ignore it until he realized the price he might pay for not following orders. His eyes shot open, his heart racing with a frenzy that seemed to pound on his broken ribs.

“--okay? Kath said your ribs got beat pretty bad, an’ it might be hard for you ta sit up. You good, Crutch?”

That was Jack. That was Jack speaking, and he wasn’t in the Refuge, he was at the lodging house. He just sat up to eat some soup. He was safe.

No matter how many times Crutchie repeated those words to himself, he couldn’t let go of the dark halls of the Refuge, the stink of the guards’ cigars, the pain that was coming at any moment.

“I’s fine,” he gritted out, forcing himself to meet Jack’s eyes. “Jus’, yeah, little bit o’ pain.” He couldn’t think of anything else to say, so just let it hang in the air between them.

Eventually, Jack helped him form his right hand around the bowl as steady as possible, then stabilized it as he brought it to his lips and drank. It bumped against his cheeks uncomfortably. It was little more than broth, and lukewarm, but Crutchie was grateful for it all the same. The taste of it alone nearly made him sob--the flavor was just so much--but he held it in.

Jack made him drink over half of the bowl before letting him lay back down, which was a much quicker operation than sitting up had been. When he was settled back in the bed, full to bursting and a little more clear on what was happening, he finally asked one of the questions that had been on his mind since he woke.

“Jack? What happened?”

Jack shifted from foot to foot. “With what?”

Crutchie sighed, pulling down his shirt a little to see what was under it. A lot of bandages and some bruises was the answer. “The strike, I s’pose.”

“Right, the strike.” Jack sat down, crossing one leg over the other. “Uh, well, we won.”

Crutchie’s heart leaped. They won? Against Pulitzer, and Wiesel, and the Delanceys, and Snyder, and all the police officers? Once again, he felt that he should smile, but just couldn’t find the energy. “Wow,” he said instead, swallowing around the pain in his throat. They had won. “How’d you get me out?”

There wasn’t an answer from Jack for a long time, and after a moment Crutchie looked over at him. He was looking down, cap in his hands, twisting it around anxiously.

“Governor Roosevelt,” he said, not looking up. His voice was unreadable. “Kath got him ta shut down the Refuge, for good. Ain’t nobody goin’ back there.”

Wow. They really won. How had that even happened? Crutchie couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that there would be no more Snyder chasing kids on the street. There had to be someone, right? Someone else who wanted to hurt kids for the fun of it?

“Y-you awake, buddy?”

Crutchie blinked, realizing his eyes had closed. “Yeah,” he whispered. Jack was watching him again, his eyes red. “Jus’ . . . jus’ tired.” And he was. He felt like if he didn’t sleep soon, he might just fade away. Even now, he wouldn’t be surprised if he slept for a week straight. He was so tired.

“Sleep, nitwit. Ya gots the time.”

Crutchie gladly accepted the invitation.

“Shh! Ya don’t want ‘im wakin’ up, do ya?”

“A little bit, yeah!”

“We wants to see ‘im!”

Crutchie groaned. The voices quieted down for a second with a few hushed gasps and shushes, then started up again when he made no effort to move. This bed was almost unbearably comfortable.

“C’mon, Jack! He’s practic’ly a’ready awake.”

“Yeah, but he ain’t. He’s restin’, he don’t need you lot tirin’ him out.”

“It’s our room too.”

“Yeah! You has to let us in, who put you in charge?”

“. . . You’s all did, Romeo.”

Crutchie snorted through his nose, then opened his eyes. He still felt bone tired, but a little like he could function. He turned his head, slowly this time, to see Jack a few feet away, holding back a good dozen newsies. Once they saw him moving, their faces lit up excitedly. Elmer pointed, hopping a little bit, and Jack looked over his shoulder to meet Crutchie’s eyes.

Immediately, he dropped his defenses and rushed to Crutchie’s side. He produced a tin cup from nowhere--and a different one from earlier?--and pushed it to his lips. “Hey, Crutch. How ya feelin’?”

Crutchie sipped and rolled his eyes, coughing a little when that sent a headache pounding. “Bit better,” he managed through his swollen jaw, pulling away from the drink. “Why’s my arm not workin’?”

Jack’s face flashed guiltily. “‘S broken,” he said, brushing hair out of Crutchie’s face. “Katherine said you’ll be wrapped up in it about three weeks, maybe more.”

Crutchie frowned. How was he supposed to sell? His right arm needed to hold his crutch, so what was supposed to be waving around the papers? His thoughts were interrupted by Jack making him drink some more water.

“I gots more food here, for ya,” Jack began. “Don’t want ya goin’ hungry. And then--”

“Jack?”

Jack went silent instantly, looking so intensely at Crutchie that he started to wonder if Jack thought he was dying. Maybe he was dying. He certainly felt like it. He shook himself. “Can I see the fellas?”

Jack turned around. The newsies, still standing in the middle of the room, waved.

“Yeah, why not,” he said, pulling his hat off and running a hand through his hair. “One at a time, though,” he added when they all began to rush forward. “You’s gonna give him a heart attack, all o’ you’s at once.”, during which Crutchie propped himself up into almost a sitting position. His bad leg was almost completely deadweight, and it hurt like he’d stuck it in a bonfire. Still, he dragged it up a little bit, trying to make room for another boy to sit on the bed. Breathing sitting up made his chest burn and back smart, but he could deal with it for right now. He just wanted to see his friends.

Specs sat down first, smiling in that gentle way of his. “Hey, Crutch,” he said. “Lookin’ a bit worse than last time I seen ya, huh? Feelin’ any better?”

“Jus’ a bit, and okay, I guess,” Crutchie admitted, once again finding smiling to be too much effort. “Jack says we won, I think. How’s it feel?”

Specs sighed happily. “Feels free. Can’t wait to get ya outta bed and into the streets, see how ‘cited the boys are ‘bout sellin’.”

“Me neither,” Crutchie said. Specs nodded, then patted him awkwardly on the knee before standing up. He was almost immediately replaced by Race and Albert, Race falling onto the bed with flourish, Albert standing beside it with his thumbs in his suspenders.

“Feelin’ any better, Crutchie?” Albert asked. Crutchie waved his arm.

“Loads,” he said, trying to not make any sounds as Race jostled him. “Bet I’ll be up sellin’ papes with you’s in no time.”

Albert guffawed; Race smiled a little piteously. “Glad to see that Crutchie spirit,” Race said, poking him in the side. Crutchie couldn’t help a gasp, bit his tongue too late to hide it. The smile completely dropped from both of their faces.

“Hey, uh,” Albert said, quieter than usual, “Race an’ I--we’s been there. Well, not there ‘xactly, but . . . that place. So we knows it’s hard to get better, an’ it takes time.”

They really didn’t know, Crutchie thought to himself as they stepped away. They didn’t have a public connection to Jack Kelly when they were in there, nor did they have a crippled leg. He was sure it was rough for them, but their experiences were not the same, and he didn’t much appreciate them comparing the two.

“Hey Crutchie! Feelin’ any better?” Elmer.

“I’d feel better if people would stop askin’ me that,” Crutchie grumbled. Elmer laughed, his eyes lighting up.

“Les an’ Davey an’ me made you this,” he said, holding something out. He dropped it in Crutchie’s lap, who stiffly picked it up with bandaged fingers and examined it closely. It was a loop of yarns, braided together in blue, green, and brown to make a bracelet.

“You don’t gotta put it on your wrist now,” Elmer said, obviously proud. “But we all made it! You can sees where I started braidin’ after Les, ‘cuz it gets better there.”

Crutchie felt tears pricking at his eyes as he looked, and yep--there was a section where it went from messy to a little less so. “Thanks, Elmer. I’m . . . I’m touched.” he glanced up into his face, seeing it split into a huge smile. “You wanna put it on my wrist? My fingers ain’t workin’ so well.”

Elmer did so with care, not even hopping back when Crutchie flinched at the touch. Then he gave a little bow and a wave, and darted off.

Next up were Romeo and Henry, who awkwardly told him about their day and asked about his. Seeing as how Crutchie had been unconscious for the majority of the day, there wasn’t much conversation to be made on his end. It was nice to hear about what they’d been doing, though. Crutchie could usually see Romeo from his selling spot, and they sometimes sold together.

“Some o’ the regulars is askin’ after you,” Romeo told him with a pat on the shoulder. Crutchie didn’t have the energy to hide his wince. “Told ‘em they oughtta be proud o’ you, you took on the Delanceys and won!”

Crutchie choked. “I ain’t done anything of the sort!” he sputtered. Romeo chuckled.

“I’m a newsie, what can I say?” he shrugged and patted his shoulder again, then wandered off with a bit of a dazed look on his face. Henry gave him a quick goodbye and followed.

Tommy Boy was just saying hello when Jack began to usher them out, saying something about how they needed to go run off their energy somewhere not here. For once, Crutchie was grateful for Jack’s motherhenning. He felt like he was going to shake right out of his body. The newsies were a tactile bunch, and normally Crutchie had no problem with that, but today it made his skin crawl and his brain go bleary. He’d also never been troubled by crowds of any size, but the room was beginning to feel unbearably full and loud.

When he looked up again, everyone but Jack was gone--and Katherine? When had she come in?

Not another person, Crutchie thought, then immediately felt bad. Jack had mentioned her a few times, and he inferred that she was sort of the person who got him out. He could have the civility to talk to her.

“Crutchie, how are you feeling?” Katherine asked, hurrying over. Crutchie bit his tongue to keep from responding rudely.

Katherine looked him over, the smile in her words slowly fading as she took him in. Finally, she met his eyes, and nodded. “Jack was right, you’re looking a lot better than yesterday.”

“Thanks, I think?” Crutchie said, something catching in his sore throat and causing him to cough violently. His chest seized up, his body wracked with agony at the pain that came from the shuddering coughs. When he recovered enough to open his eyes, Jack was holding the cup of water right under his nose.

“Don’ be gettin’ sick on me, Crutchie,” Jack said, sounding more worried than teasing. Crutchie swallowed down the last of the water and coughed one more time.

“I’s gettin’ sick just ta spite you, now,” Crutchie said weakly. Katherine and Jack both laughed, a little wildly, a little wrong. That bothered him, in ways that he couldn’t quite put together. Why didn’t they sound normal?

Something in the smell of the room was starting to make him feel sick. Had he eaten anything since the scraps that one morning? He had, hadn’t he? Jack had given him something earlier. Well, at least he knew there was something in his stomach to be tossed up if it came to that. That had to be easier on his throat than dry heaves.

“Crutchie, you heard that the Refuge has been shut down for good, haven’t you?” asked Katherine, trying to find somewhere to pat him kindly. She settled on the edge of the mattress.

Wait, what?

The Refuge? Shut down--for good? That wasn’t possible, was it? Snyder had a perfect reputation with the city. They’d never shut down a place that worked so well because a few teenage boys told them to.

“It what?” he said out loud, looking between Jack and Katherine, hoping to see some sign of humor. They had to be pulling his leg. Katherine only nodded, though, and Jack gave him a concerned glance.

“I told ya that already,” Jack said. “Remember? This mornin’?”

Crutchie thought back. Maybe? He remembered pieces of their conversation, but it was pretty blurry. He also remembered seeing a lizard crawl up the windowpane. He’d assumed it was a dream, but maybe it had actually happened. That was pretty cool.

“Anyway, I showed Governor Roosevelt some of Jack’s drawings,” Katherine pushed on. “He investigated it immediately, and went personally to shut it down and arrest that awful man!”

“The governor,” Crutchie repeated, dumbfounded. Jack had ridden in the back of his carriage once. Had he met the governor and not even been conscious?

Now that he thought about it, though, he had vague flashes . . . a man with a mustache saying something to someone out of sight . . . the same man holding water for him to drink . . . had he met the governor and let the man baby him?

“The doctor said he doesn’t know what your recovery will look like, but he thinks you’ll make a full one if nothing gets infected,” Katherine told him, and Crutchie was torn from his mortification to incredulation.

“A doctor?” He couldn’t afford a doctor! He didn’t even have enough money saved to miss more than a few days of work, how would he--

“Don’t worry,” Katherine said, waving him off with a little laugh, “Governor Roosevelt handled the cost. You were concerned about it when it happened, too.”

Crutchie made himself relax a little bit. He couldn’t turn down a free handout in his condition, especially not from the governor. The governor.

“And, speaking of. . . .” Katherine trailed off, looking uncomfortable. Jack took her hand and gave her a strained smile. Crutchie looked at the two of them. Were they together?! Why had no one told him?

“I sort of need to change your bandages,” Katherine said apologetically. Crutchie blanched, and she hurried to add, “It’ll be quick! Just clean wrappings--” she waved a bag-- “and some soap and water, then you can rest.”

Yeah, sure, but there was a huge problem. Katherine was a girl. It wasn’t that she was weak for being a girl or anything, but Crutchie really didn’t want to subject a lady to the mess that was his body right now. Or anyone, for that matter. In fact, if they could both just leave the room and give him the bandages and stinging stuff, he’d get it done himself.

When he tried to tell Katherine just that, she snorted. “Crutchie, no offense, but I don’t think you could beat a toddler with pneumonia in a fight right now. There’s no way you could do this yourself, or any way you could stop me or one of the others doing it for you.”

Crutchie’s blood ran cold. He couldn’t stop them. She was right. They could do anything they wanted to him, and he was powerless to do anything. They wouldn’t even need to hold him down.

Crutchie only nodded when she asked him if she could change his bandages, his throat completely dry. Jack watched him for a moment, and Crutchie tried to not look back. He didn’t want Jack to see how petrified he was. After a moment, Jack made up some nonsense excuse about checking on the other boys and left.

Left to get them, probably. Or maybe something to hit him with. Or both. After all, he was a pretty easy target right about now, who wouldn’t want a go? He could barely move, let alone fight back. Crutchie’s stomach turned as an image of Race taking bets on how long he’d be conscious forced itself into his head.

“Can you sit up all the way, Crutchie?” Katherine asked, and he cringed. They were going to make him sit up? Were they going to make him move from this bed, too? It was Jack’s, he’d realized earlier. Jack probably wanted it back.

He pushed himself up, slowly, agonizingly. His head pounded and his back throbbed and his stomach wouldn’t stop sloshing around the water in it, but he sat up anyway, slowly adjusting so that his legs hung off the bed. By the time he was fully sitting up (hunching over like he wanted to made it harder to breathe) Crutchie had broken a light sweat, his hair sticking a little to the back of his neck. Katherine wouldn’t hurt him, right? She was a girl, and she was upper-class. They made other people do that for them.

“I’m going to start with this cut on your cheek, okay? It looks like it’s fine, I just want to make sure it’s clean.”

Crutchie braced himself, closing his eyes. He just wanted to sleep for a little bit longer. Couldn’t it go back to Jack softly giving him water and drawing while he dozed? That was nice. That was safe. Couldn’t they do that for just a little bit longer before they got to all the bad stuff?

Katherine’s touch on his face made him flinch back, but that was all it was. A touch. A piece of wet cloth, rubbed on his cheek. It wasn’t too bad, so far. It was almost a little nice.

“Your forehead’s pretty warm,” he heard her say, distantly. He didn’t respond. It was taking all his effort to stay still and upright.

Crutchie tried to retreat to the back of his mind as he felt Katherine undoing the buttons on his shirt, but he couldn’t get out of here. He was straining his ears to hear something, anything--the boys bounding upstairs, or cheering, or something like that that would give him time to prepare for what was to come.

He was broken out of it, though, when his already aching chest burst into flames. He cried out, opened his eyes--Katherine was holding a red-stained cloth, looking apologetic.

“I’m so sorry,” she murmured, “but one of your cuts is infected. It’s going to hurt a bit. Do you think you can focus on me?”

Crutchie would’ve laughed if he wasn’t busy taking as shallow breaths as possible. He could barely focus on anything. He looked down to see the patchwork of bruises and scrapes that was his chest, and saw that yes, the largest one looked irritated and weepy. That one had been giving him trouble from the first day.

Something touched his hand and he started, then stared down at it. Katherine was holding his hand. Why?

“We can wait until you’re ready,” she said, and Crutchie wasn’t sure that he would ever be ready, but nodded as a go-ahead.

He watched now as Katherine gently and carefully cleaned each wound, calming more with each reassuring squeeze of her hand when the liquid stung. Something about her hand in his was comforting, almost grounding. It was as if his perception had been blurred with panic, and her hand cleared the mist enough that he could ground himself against the contact and the quiet openness of the room. He was alive.

Instead of making him move, Katherine climbed over the bed in a very unladylike manner and dressed the marks on his back. This was worse. With no one to hold onto and no way to see what was happening, Crutchie dug the sore fingers of his right hand into his left upper arm. It gave him a sensation to focus on that wasn’t the painful touches on his back, something that he could control. That helped, a little bit. What didn’t help was the fact that Crutchie couldn’t stop staring at the door, waiting for it to burst open at any minute.

Katherine wrapped his torso and helped him get his shirt back on before moving down to his legs, which made Crutchie even more uncomfortable. He tried to shift away, even told her he could do this part, despite knowing full well that he was about two minutes from passing out. She was a lady, it was improper.

Katherine was sympathetic. “I can go get Jack,” she offered. “Or one of the other boys, if you’re more comfortable with that.”

No. No no no no no no no. Couldn’t they do this for a little while longer first? Just Katherine holding his hand and cleaning his chest. She seemed to see his panic, because she immediately softened.

“How about this,” she said. “I’ll only do from the knees down, and then I’ll turn around while you clean the rest, okay?” Crutchie nodded. That sounded okay. Embarrassing, of course, but so much better than the alternative.

Katherine pulled one of the blankets from where it was tucked in and draped it over his legs. With her steadying him, Crutchie managed to get his pants down to his ankles, then let her take over, his face burning. She was a girl, after all. It felt so wrong, to let her clean his legs.

She made quick work of it though, and handed Crutchie the brown bottle of what seemed to be soapy water and the cloth before turning around. He watched her for a moment, making sure she wasn’t going to peek, then quickly yet haltingly rubbed the cloth along his thighs. There luckily was nothing more than bruises and a single cut there, and he was done in a few minutes. By that point, he could barely hold his head up. Instead of pulling his pants back on, he just fell back against the bed, groaning.

Katherine tucked him back in, resting a hand on his forehead again. “Do you think you have a fever?”

That would make a bit of sense, wouldn’t it? It was the middle of summer, it had to be sweltering out, and here he was under three blankets with the window closed. He was sure he had other symptoms too, but he didn’t really remember, so he just shrugged and closed his eyes.

Katherine sighed, rubbing his fingers. “Crutchie, I need you to stay awake for a few minutes. Jack’s bringing you something to eat.”

Crutchie forced his eyes back open. He didn’t want to be awake. He’d been tired this whole time and now his body felt like it was going to fall apart. As if summoned, though, the door at the other end of the room creaked open, and in came Jack, holding a bowl in one hand and some bread in the other.

“I sent Sniper down ta Jacobi’s,” he said by way of introduction. Crutchie tried to move his arms, but they felt weighed down. He didn’t really want to eat, he wanted to sleep. He really wanted to sleep, actually, so badly that he felt his eyes begin to burn with tears. Why weren’t they letting him sleep?

There was bread in front of him and Crutchie stared at it uncomprehendingly. What was he supposed to do with that? He couldn’t take it, his arms weren’t moving.

He blinked and it had been replaced by a bowl of something, which gradually came closer as he watched. Someone wormed a hand underneath his neck to prop his head up, making him shiver and twitch. He didn’t like that at all, but there was nothing he could do. Maybe now they were going to beat him. At least he’d probably be too out of it to notice.

The bowl pressed against his lips and Crutchie opened his mouth, choking as some of its liquid slipped down his throat. That was far more warm than he’d been expecting, not quite searing his tongue, but coming close to it. It drew back again, then more spilled into his mouth. This time, Crutchie drank, paying no mind to the flavor or temperature. He just hoped they would let him sleep after this.

Sure enough, with a few last drops of broth, the bowl was empty and the hand under his neck pulled away, leaving Crutchie to fall back against the pillow. Before his eyes were even closed, he was pulled into darkness.

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tobebugjewce · 3 years

Text

THE WALTEN FILES: my jumbled notes on my blind run-in with this web series

first off this is gonna be long and unorganized, also this is my second time writing this as i had lost literally half of my progress and im This (imagine two fingers almost touching with a 0.0000000001mm distance between them) close to ripping all of the fucking hair out of my goddamn head. but now this will be extra long and yes, i will lose some accuracy to my first writing but thats okay ill probably edit this a kajillion times over

which brings me to my next tangent; im literally braindumping here. so to have a smidge of organization all afterthoughts, edits and corrections will be boldened, i forgot what im gonna do with italicized text but ill probably bolden it here yeah im pretty sure its for side tangents, separate from Corrections, which are in bold. also theyre for emphasis too.

so in general, this post right here is all of my notes i wrote down on my grid-patterned sticky notes (which i used WAYYYY too much of) about the first 3 uploaded walten files youtube videos transferred onto my handy dandy digital notebook, this b(l)og. yeppers peppers. you know im serious about this shit when i typed probably over like a thousand fucking words including boldened shit, italicized shit and motherfucking links, lost it ALL, and im sitting here re-typing it again.

i feel bad about this but im not gonna trigger warn right here, but this is technically a warning. if you want a list of triggers as to what this post (and the walten files in general) i will link a little list to that here

without further a doo doo, (mama mia) here the fucking fuck we go again.

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #1

clarifying this now, im gonna put some useless shit which i thought was code onto this because even though it was useless it was part of my notes and im physically going to combust if i dont put down every single thing i wrote on my papers. so what i thought was code was in the closed captions, i started writing it down when i got to the second video but came back to my first videos notes to include them. i wrote down the first letter to every word that was capitalized in the closed captions, which i had on as a default because number one i knew going into this id need them because most web horror things like args and cryptic shit like that has some of the most crucial shits in the closed captions. number two i am autistic and have auditory processing issues and have most closed captioning on as a default if theyre available.

firstly jotted, i wrote down the closed captions “code” so im gonna put the rest here too: HYWITB(BSI)Y A(BSI)BJWFKWITW ILHHFSBBSBTLBWI USOISTBNBSFIRBCAWHSHCBWHTAIGRNB*C*BTWLTSFA(20)MCFP ILITIIACPH(1978, 1979)SA(4)YTSCH*C*OGSSU SFTGRPATDBBUTFBNLLCHMIHLBRALLCLAYTUKB*LC*WHATWASTHATTHING

the numbers in parenthesis are there because i wasnt sure they should be included in the “code” or not. i also thought of this with the BSI - bunny smiles incorporated and also the years 1978 and 1979. the shits in asterisks are coughs and light coughs, which were capitalized in the closed captions so i included them too just in case

i then jotted, in parenthesis of course, the names of the animatronics when they were listed in the animation section of the video; bon aka the blue bunny, sha aka the sheep one, boozoo aka the clown<3 honk<33, and banny aka the purpled eyelashed up one who is also a bunny btw. also i got boozoo the clown and boozoo the mustache guy confused because apparently the clowns name is billy???? but they named “boozoo” in bons sleepover and showed the clown? idk maybe im an idiot and theyre the same or just an idiot and theyre different or a super mega (matt and ryan?!?!??) idiot in general which is probably the case

i started drawing little stars to write down things i thought would be super important or to 100% look at again. the first subject of this pointy torture was the part of the video where at 3:00, i marked it down to make sure to reverse the audio as it was most definitely a weird audio that has that signature warp-y effect that makes sure you KNOW its in reverse. i then listened back to it Very carefully (still got it wrong) and got this: “you finally start to remember. that old doll. they will look out for you soon” im also pretty sure i heard “sophie” at the end of that audio but im not entirely sure and dont remember and i dont wanna go back to check lmfao but anyways it didnt matter because i was wrong anyway. after i had finished all 3 walten files i watched the film theory video on the walten files (which didnt cover all 3 but was dece.) out of curiosity and to hear matpats signature silly little voice explain some stuff i already knew, and click some shit in my brain that i couldve thought up of if i was a bit more... i dont know honestly. anyways yeah so the actual audio is “you finally start to remember. that old day. they will look out for you soon.” so yeah. day, not doll.

i then wrote down “sarah evelyn”, the name on the bons sleepover animation (i dont remember if she created it or animated it or whatnot) and scribbled will she matter? under her name. turns out no, as i didnt see her name in the rest of the series, let alone the first video. this is also a great time to mention how matpat theory helped me realize that the walten files are collections of videos, uploaded onto youtube by anthony. (i already knew about anthony as he signed his name in the descriptions of the youtube videos, making me categorize this overall web series more into an arg type genre.) but yes, the tapes, recorded “irl” footage, animated clips, vhs tape recordings and other audio-visual content is all collected and labeled the walten files, as i had mistaken each video to be a tape. stupid me. alrighty, onward!

i starred this one, good for me; MISSING: Jack Walten LAST SEEN: 06/11/1974

i jotted down with an arrow that; sophie was a nightguard? she was wearing the uniform explained in tape 2 i dont know why but i went back into my video 1 notes after i had watched video 2. organization purposes. i guess.??

i then paused the video when the screen flickered a date, the beginning of video footage dated 10/10/1982 (Brian Stells?) god my little genius ass assuming the videographer was brian stells, based on the id card i saw earlier.

i then wrote down what text i saw on the dead, mangled, bloody body in the purple security suit; “i cant feel anything” “he thought i was her” then drew a little arrow pointing to; thought brian was sophie? or ashley? i also starred the name Brian Stells this is totally out of order LMFAOOOOOOOO also i wrote down ashley because, again, my little pea brain went back on my video 1 notes after watching video 2. but yep thats all i wrote for The Walten Files 1 - Company Introductory Tape

THE WALTEN FILES - VIDEO #2

Tape #1 - created 07/02/1978

awesome how thats first and foremost in the captions. god. so sexy of you martin walls. /j /nsx

this pack of notes is chunkier because again, like i have mentioned before i am an absolute goober and thought the capitalized letters of the words would actually mean something. I MEAN MAYBE THEY DO AND IM JUST DOING IT WRONG but i stopped doing it after this video because holy shit it was exhausting and my stupid little fingers couldnt take the writing anymore becasue i am WEAK.

so write off the bat (squeak) i wrote down 197[] the blacked out rectangle over the last digit of that year and everything im also now assuming its probably 1978 or 1974 because lore reasons but whos to say but yeah i also wrote down this;

Tape #2 - created 08/13/1978

then, straight up in the beginning of the video i caught it, the flash of text, as i had by now realized i gotta be SUPER stupid focused on the screen in case i miss anything, i wanted to be crazy precise on my theorizing and mental notes, among other things. but yes i saw it, the first half of a youtube link; “https://youtu”

claps hands together and rubs them evilly. oh yeah baby. thats the hot lunch. this shit right here? the cats pajamas. lets fucking go.

i wrote down this goofy shit i pasued to inspect when i saw bon sorting through a file cabinet and naturally scribbled down the labels and other written things i could see on the files;

relocate X/X/75 felix

storage K-9 07/23/1975 felix k(ranken)

Bons Burgers 06/28/1974 Jack Walten

Shipping Service 1975

New Location -> 1982

i also wrote down more goofy shit, like when banny was created for some reason; in 1974

starred, i noted to go back and reverse the audio at 5:09, when played back, i didnt write it down so i dont remember. lmao.

i also marked to screenshot and brighten the darkened image i saw at 5:20, i was going to do it on my phone then realized i can just do it on my computer so i quickly took a screenshot, brightened it and wrote down what i saw; a missing person poster that read MISSING: SUSAN WOODINGS(?) Last seen: 1974 i was very unsure of the spelling of her last name because the image was so goddamn low quality and grainy but its what i saw. this is where tape #3 gets thrown in, which im gonna type again because i like how the formatting looks;

Tape #3 - created 07/09/1978 (BEFORE tape 2?!//1/1??? its more likely than you think)

i wrote down more dates, any dates i saw, i jotted down. i wrote;

Technical Support 1978

then,

Brian Stells (for some reason i dont remember right now)

alrighty this is where the stupid capitalized letters come in, but before it looks like i vomit a keysmash time infinity on this, ill put down the little inbetween things i wrote in the midst of the caps lockalypse like timestamps and stuff, so here you go;

- Reverse at 8:16 which i did but of course didnt write down what i heard. i think it was too warbled to hear anything clear out of it, or it was just the good ol auditory processing issues fucking me over yet again. WAIT yep yes i did here it is: “rosemary would go to the restaurant every night hoping that [her] beloved husband would reappear after being missing for weeks but no response until one day [s]he heard a voice [saying] ‘i know where he is rosie’ coming from the back stage” the bracketed stuff is the corrections, i misheard the audio and thought the audio said “his”, “he” and “singing” like a nimrod

- Brighten at 10:14 which was another missing person poster, but i dont think it had any information on it because i didnt write it down, just;

- Sophie again (pic at 9:08?) (dismemberd and put in Sha) i was stupid and wrong haha idiot it was rosemary who was put in sha but anywho

i starred and underlined a huge thing i discovered which was;

- Walten had 3 kids which i dont remember how i found out but it doesnt matter, its good important info i uncovered.

- Tape #4 - Unkown Date

- recorded 07/12-07/14 1978

- Hilary B, Ashley P & Kevin W i made sure to get these names down as soon as i saw them on screen but then realized shortly after i wouldnt really need to have it as the closed captions made sure i knew which person was talking by using their first initial (capitalized of course) before each line of text. this is the perfect time to announce the arrival of the clusterfuck of capital letters, which is going to include colons which will indicate that the letter before it is the initial of the person talking. without further aedue, here comes another chinese earthquake;

TCWTSTATO(K-9)TBSSFWFCNEHAWBSUBIUC(BSIIDC)OWHISF INBIJTILNSPL(K-9)LCSCKCCCWTTLTLITTTYROTFAJAMHPYYSTCSPMBBWSBIB H:NTPPCCK:DA:HH:YCPRPMWTCBCRAWK:JH:SYYTCPBACPSTBAWCA:TK(?):FMTTCMK:TCPNOA:DTOFK:ITNPPRA:YBUTIRRFH:HKIBESRAIA:TCK:WA:WPCCFTRRIDPEH:GGK:GPA:LKK:WA:HNCGTKMK:YH:IGKA:ESK:MFH:RK:HILRLBNTRPPUWHITRRTPEIFEPH:YWBEBPK:MAHPBTRPTRPEL(LN)HTACPKLIKHPFITSKLTKLB(LB?)ISIBSUBIPRW AEBATHSPUAICTPURTWBBRPHTRTIIIILTCITCUCCP S(bpe, be)WA”IDCPBPSIB

holy shit its finally over okay now onto some MORE of what i wrote down in between and also after that keysmash attack;

12 doors? (backrooms) 27? 26? i was unsure because ashley was unsure too lmfao

found cassette (6/11/78) <- says “discard”? yeah it did

Tape in clown audio, speaking voice; jack, susan, charles(?), rosemary, sophie, last word sounds like “walrus” it was walten lmfao

Ashley died? yeah she did lmfao OR AT LEAST I THINK SO??

starred this one, Reverse @ 17:06, then got this;

“they left the next day, they thought ashley left early, but she was in the backdoors, screaming as much as she could, but no one heard the screams, the following days the caretakers would complain about an awful smell coming from the backdoors, company decided to shut down facility until new advice, the relocate project was unsuccessful. ashley is still there, but she is not screaming anymore, she saw something she wasnt supposed to see and now shes beautiful” the phrase “shes beautiful” was repeating like a bajillion times in that wall of text. then, god motherfuckng bless:

at 17:23 i found the other half of the youtube link, “.be/k07QqEDOfQ” i pieced that bad boy together as instant as i think any form of ramen could never be, but remained ever patient. because i made sure to jot down this before moving onto my next segment;

@ end of vid 2, “shadow man sees* me when lights go off” im an idiot *it was actually “feeds” not “sees”, which AGAIN, i only found out after watching the stupid little film theory video *begins snarling and foaming at the mouth*

okay im not proud to admit im editing this to post it and realized ive lost my notes. well.

might as well post what ive got! if i find my shit ill add onto this, i suppose.

#the walten files #twf #notes #horror

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bangtansfavwriter · 4 years

Text

🥞☕brunch café owner! jin☕🥞

tw: a tiny mention of anxiety and shitty people that you may have encountered in school / uni ( but a lot of fluff to make up for it! )

- so far, your day was a complete catastrophe, im not even gonna tone it down, it was a complete shitshow to be honest

-it was like god woke up and went "i’m gonna let y/n have a shit day lmaoo"

-you overslept and missed your bus... on the day you had an appointment with your lecturer about your term paper

- after tripping on the stairs and hitting your knee, you hobbled to the office where this gollum lookalike was already waiting for you

- your lecturer was unreasonable enough to not let you extend your deadline for your paper... the one book you needed wasn't in the library for the past 3 weeks and there was no other edition available. so you explained the situation multiple times even at the beginning of your writing process, you even wrote him mails to explain the issue

- but this man who literally radiated boomer energy with every particle of his being really had the audacity to not answer, not even to your second mail and then he actually said that he does not understand "how someone of your age doesn't manage to even get a simple task as writing a paper" done

-you explained the situation again but he was pretty much tone-deaf to your situation and didn't even care when you said that you're actually gonna go to the library now to get the book scans

- so you went there already drained and exhausted from that conversation

-but the library was an even worse experience tbh .......

[fic mode: on, hohoho]

The lady in the library yelled at you for no apparent reason after you informed her that the scanner wasn't working and made you look stupid in front of other students who were there until one of them intervened and helped you out, which you appreciated. But this whole situation grew even worse on you after you left the library because your anxiety kicked in. You went straight into a quiet alley nearby and started crying quietly. "But hey!" you then exclaimed angrily, while wiping away your tears "At least the paper is gonna get done, right?! because who gives a shit about mental health and all huh, Mr. Go?!" and you started sobbing again. "Dickhead... And that stupid library lady... with her stupid fat 80s glasses. And her ugly yeehaw look...". This was something you wouldn't ever do in public, crying and ranting that is. but the alley was quiet, your only company was a stray cat that was sleeping underneath a tree's shadow. or so you thought. "Ugly yeehaw people and their ugly ass clothes, like... go read a magazine or something...". You started feeling more liberated with each mild insult you'd utter, so you went on. "Ugly library lady and her giant wart, like who the fuck are you? yubaba?" you heard someone snort and start laughing a squeaky laugh that almost sounded like a windshield wiper. Taken aback by the unexpected witness to your mild breakdown, you stood still at first, then looked around, left and right, but you couldn't see anyone. "Over here!" you heard someone say. You looked around again and sighed when you still couldn't see anyone. "Did I finally lose my mind?" you mumbled to yourself, only to hear the squeaky laugh again. "Hey! Turn around and look up!". You got up the bench and did as you were told by the omnipresent voice and finally saw the person it belonged to. Up at the 1st floor, there was a guy looking down to you from his tiny balcony that had plants hanging down from it. He smiled at you when your eyes met and you felt your heart rate go up in an instant, as you realized this stranger, this awfully handsome stranger witnessed how your petty little rant and crying about yubaba's twin in the library. "Tough day, huh?" he asked, you just nodded and quickly wiped your face with your sleeve. "Oh no, hold on" he mumbled and suddenly disappeared from his window, leaving you behind with a surprised look on your face. A box of Kleenex suddenly landed in front of your feet, as he reappeared at his window. "Just one would have done it, too, but thank you. I appreciate it!" you said and smiled at the guy. While you wiped your face, you heard another something land on the bench. You looked up again to the guy who, all of a sudden, avoided your gaze. "That'll help, you know..." he said and looked at you in surprise when you started laughing. What he threw on the bench was a... bar of chocolate. One that also happened to be your favourite. You looked at him and gave him a huge smile that made his heart flutter. He looked away shyly and scratched his head. "Tough day, yeah... but this right here," you raised the chocolate bar, "this makes it all better, you're right about that. Thank you!" The stranger couldn't help but look at you once again. He almost felt compelled to it. It was like staring at the sun when it sets, you know that you shouldn't stare at it directly, but it's so breathtakingly beautiful that you can't help but look. He intently watched you while you happily munched on your chocolate and smiled to himself. "What's your name?" he asked you. "Y/N! How about you?" - "I'm Seokjin. You can call me Jin..." - "Nice to meet you, Jin. I wish it would have been under different circumstances, though. I'm actually quite embarrassed about that, but chocolate helps with that, too." You two smiled at each other. "You know what, Y/N? Sometimes good things happen at weird times. Don't be embarrassed about crying earlier. I'm the last person who'd judge you because of that. I know that library witch, by the way... That Yubaba comparison was spot on!" You laughed out loud - he very much wished to hear this sound more often now. "Y/N, I gotta get ready for work now. But I'm gonna share one last bit of wisdom with you. I know a good remedy for bad days." - "Better than chocolate?" - "Oh, yes. Even better than chocolate. There's a café in XX street. There's a whole lot of lavender growing right in front of it, you can't miss it. That cafe has the best pancakes in the entire city." - Oh my god, pancakes are the best thing on earth!" - "(!!!) You must go there and try then! They're fluffy and come in 5 different variations and the sweetest maple syrup! I'm telling you, if you have a bad day like this again, go straight to that café." He already got you at pancakes, so you definitely would go there. "I'll finish this damn paper and then go reward myself with pancakes! In one or two weeks I'll get like 2 plates of pancakes then!" - "That sounds perfect!", he laughed. Shortly after, he excused himself and you two bid farewell. He disappeared from his window and your troubles had disappeared from your soul. You went home with a smile on your face, thankful for the kindness he had shown you and hoped that you would see him in the café some day. "Who knows... Maybe he's a regular there. It sounded like it."

Roughly one and a half weeks later, many all nighters and a whole lot of take out food, you finished the paper and handed it in. Liberated from this massive pain in the ass, you went straight to the café that your thoughts circled around during the times you weren't busy with your paper. "God, I hope he's there...", you thought and thought of Jin, who you thought about as much as you dreamed of the huge plate of pancakes you were going to get now. The café was not very far from where you lived, you walked there in about 15 minutes and recognised the place by a very accurate description Jin has given you. The smell of lavender bewitched you as soon as you stepped into the alley the café was in. Lots of flower pots were in the front of it, not only was there lavender but also gardenias and petunias. The flowers were all around the tables outside. "Of course, the flower boy loves the flower café" you said to yourself and smiled. The café wasn't too busy, as you came by at a rather early hour, when there were still lectures for most students and older people were busy at the local market place. You were greeted right away when you entered the café, by a younger man, probably also a fellow student, who was wearing an apron and gave you a warm welcome with his bunny smile. He showed you to your table at the window side from where you could watch bees hurdle at the lavender pots outside. You ordered shortly after, it didn't take much thinking when you saw the "Eat the stress away" menu, with regular pancakes, hashbrowns and a tea/coffee option. "Excellent choice! It's my personal favourite~", your waiter added. You glanced at each other. "Fellow student?" you asked and laughed when he suddenly looked at you with a gloomy look, but joined you in laughter right away. "Shared struggle", he said laughing, leaned over real quick and whispered: "I'll get you some blueberry pancakes, too. I'll tell the chef you're a friend of mine." - "Oh my god, thank you!" He winked and went straight to the kitchen, while humming a tune. Well, this was certainly the sweetest waiter you'd ever encountered. But you had your eyes on the door, hoping for a divine intervention that would lead to Jin coincidentally walk into the café when you were there. Around 15 minutes later you finally sipped on your coffee and were about to devour the fluffiest pancakes you'd ever had on a plate in front of you. The hash browns were a tad bit disappointing, as they had a slighty burnt taste and weren't spiced very well, in your opinion. But the pancakes were absolutely amazing. Their soft and fluffy texture was complemented with butter and the sticky-sweet maple syrup that as truly as good as Jin said. And the blueberry pancakes were so good that you feared losing control over your facial expressions. Your waiter came along to your table, after he got the newest customer orders to the kitchen. You invited him to sit with you, which he gladly accepted. "How do you like it? They're really good, right?" - "I think this is what the kids call 'foodgasm'...", you answered and the two of you giggled. He looked at your plate and noticed the hash browns that you put at the edge of your plate. "Oh? Didn't like the hash browns?" he asked with wide eyes.

"They're slightly burnt, I think..." you said shyly. You were never one to criticize the cook when you didn't like your food in a restaurant. The only time when you actually complained was when you once found hair in your soup in a restaurant, and even back then you apologised for the trouble whereas it was clearly the chef who was at fault. "Please don't tell anyone, this can happen sometimes, I accept that." you quickly added, but your waiter shook his head ferociously. "You paid for this, so it is our duty to bring good food to your table. Our chef is a perfectionist, I don't understand how this can happen anyway. I'll get it sorted out, but not without teasing him. Can you wait a little until the customers are gone here. We close for lunch time. So people are gonna leave soon." You agreed and waited, while befriending the waiter - Jungkook, a 2nd year student who was currently doing a side job at "Café Smeraldo". After the last customer left, Jungkook decided to call the chef by yelling across the café. "He's also the manager you know. We're a bit short-staffed, you know... This is gonna be funny~~ JIN-HYUNG!" You almost spat out your coffee and started coughing as soon as you heard that name. "JIN-HYUNG COME OUT OF YOUR BUREAU! YOU BURNT A CUSTOMER'S FOOD!" He cackled after he heard noise coming from inside, while you sat there mortified. The door from the staff room slammed open and you instantly wished to turn into dust, as said manager/chef was the guy who consoled you on one of the worst days you've had in your academic life. The two of you stared at each other in shock, but before he could say anything to you he started scolding his younger co-worker and the two of them started bickering, while you continued sipping on your coffee, because this whole situation was soon more entertaining than it was mortifying. At some point Jin shushed Jungkook who shut up right away when he realized that this wasn't playful bickering anymore. Jungkook bowed deeply and went to the kitchen where he started cleaning. "You're friends with the boy?" Jin asked and sat down at your table. He looked tired, you thought. "No, actually we met earlier, but I suppose we just clicked very fast." - "So this kid got you my famous blueberry pancakes on the house, huh?" - "...I guess so. Look, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to cause you trouble. I really didn't want him to say anything about the hash browns either." He quickly glanced at them and grabbed one to take a bite, but put it down again before doing so. "I can see it already", he said "you don't need to apologise, it's my bad." He sat there with a gloomy expression and sighed. "Tough day, huh?" you asked and smiled at him when he laughed at your reference. "Tough week is more like it. We're a bit short-staffed at the moment. But enough of me and my manager melancholy. Finished your paper?" You were surprised by his sudden change, but you went along. "Yeah, I turned it in earlier and came here right after. I gave you my word after all." You smiled at him, and he felt the same rush that he had experienced the day he first met you. You continued: "You were right, by the way. These pancakes are everything!! Especially the blueberry ones. Is that your recipe?" He laughed and nodded. "I'm glad you liked them!" he said. "I'll serve you better hash browns the next time, pinky promise. I got a phone call while preparing 3 orders, yours was the only one that suffered from it." - "It happens sometimes. Don't dwell on something so minor." - "Says you, who cried beneath my balcony because of some witch!" The two of you giggled. He looked at you with a look, that made your cheeks burn. His gaze was fond and soft, it was the kind of look you have whenever the sky looks pretty, or when a bird lands near you and sings a little song. Neither of you could break the look you shared, as neither of you could describe a bond that was apparently now formed with chocolate and pancakes. It was him who spoke up first: "Got room for more pancakes?". This question took you by surprise, but pancakes are always a welcome surprise. "Hell yeah, you can never have enough pancakes." - "I need more proof for that, but based on that sentence alone I can say that we may be soulmates, Y/N." You started laughing, as did he. "But why? What do you have in mind? Also, I'm surprised you still remember my name." His cheeks got a very apparent pink hue after your remark and you noticed how grossly you were endeared by this man. "Y/N... How could I forget..." he said with a low voice that made your heart flutter. "How could I forget someone who made me believe there was a banshee at my door for a solid minute!" He broke out in his loud and squeaky laughter as soon as he saw the pure offence and shock on your face, after he said that, because *that* was certainly not what you expected to hear. "You're mean, oh my god!" you exclaimed but had to laugh, too. You guys needed two minutes to calm down again. The pink hue on his face was still there and you felt the rush of confidence in you. He noticed you looking at him and spoke up:

"Y/N... How could I forget someone who has made me smile on a day I didn't feel like smiling at all? I got the news my cook had to quit on the day we met. I thought this was the end for my café. But then, I met you, shortly after I got the news. And seeing you going from crying to happily munching on some chocolate despite having issues that made you cry in public in the first place... Seeing you forgetting your troubles with something so small as a chocolate bar. I don't know... I felt hopeful for some reason. And I love this feeling. And, god... I really hoped you'd take my advice and come here to have my pancakes! (he chuckled) But I have to admit something... I so regretted not asking for your number. For the past week I jumped through the kitchen door everytime a customer came in...". You were pretty sure your heart was soon gonna explode through your chest. He hid his face with his hands and sighed. "I'm not like this at all~" he whined, before facing you again. "But... How about I make us some more pancakes now? And hash browns, if you like. I haven't had breakfast yet and well... I really want to make you pancakes. Can I?" His voice became thinner with each sentence he added, since he came shyer with each bit. You chuckled, in disbelief about how your rapidly beating heart became so calm, yet so full when this man told you he wanted to make you pancakes. No nervosity whatsoever, no second thoughts, nothing. An epiphany over pancakes... Who would have thought? This was safe. This was a safe place for both of you, and both of you felt it.

"A breakfast date then?"

"Breakfast date it is."

"I like the sound of that."

💕

epilogue:

-you two enter the kitchen after you insisted on watching him cook for you-

jk: hyu- oh, hi y/n! you guys know each other? ah hyung, i cleaned up everything and tidied up in the bureau. i'm sorry about earlier. (bows again and stands there shyly)

jin: (sighs very deeply) come here, you dodo.

the two of them shared a short but sweet hug, after which jungkook had a huge smile on his face again. jin and you shared a look and the same thought as you looked at jungkook after.

jin: jk, you wanna have pancakes with us?

jk: huh? yeah sure, i'm actually pretty hungry... (he smiles at you two) I'll go clean up inside real quick and prepare the table! yayy, pancake brunch with friends ☺️ (he leaves you two in the kitchen)

you turned to jin and smiled. "don't even start." he said quickly, while he started getting the ingredients out. "AWWW~~" - "NOOO!"

-the end-

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emptynarration · 3 years

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Author already had 5 soulmarks -all platonic, thank god- so he really didn't need any more. But there it was, the sixth mark, appearing right on his neck. And clearly a romantic one as well. He doesn't want any soulmates. He wants to be alone. He doesn't want romance, he hates it. But apparently, fate wanted to smother him in love and affection, if he wants it or not.

So yea I had this idea once before but differently so now. Have Author being ABSOLUTELY C O V E R ED in soulmarks!!

Spoiler: He'll have 23 soulmarks.

You can probably figure out who the soulmates already having their mark on him are! :D If you can, you're awesome 💜 (Also decided against explicit sex though... i may add some later. i'm a horny guy im sorry-)

Leave a comment if you liked this please!! 💜

Author had a total of six soulmate marks. One was a VHS tape, another was some sort of flower, two of them were an old TV and a receiver connected to it, another was simply a tree, and the latest and newest was of a shooting star. He hated each and every one of them. He didn't want a soulmate, yet alone six. And the worst was, that he was apparently getting new ones still. Considering the sixth he'd just gotten a couple months ago. At least only the newest one was romantic. It were only black outlines, while the rest were black lines with black shading -it meant the one would get coloured, once he found that soulmate. He didn't want to think there was someone he was destined to be involved romantically with though. He didn't like romance.

Just to prove his point, Author often went to random bars, to pick up strangers for a night, to then never return to them again. Fucking around was pleasurable and easy, and he didn't have to think about soulmates or people or anything. So he went to a bar, got himself a drink, and scanned the crowd. Maybe he'd find someone good looking enough he could imagine sleeping with. He never really felt any attraction to people, just going with what he liked aesthetically, so he had a pretty free pick of who he wanted. He spotted a man, short and soft looking, and clearly drunk. Judging from his state, getting drunk had been his intention. Sauntering over, Author decided that was the perfect man to pick. Someone drunk enough they wouldn't notice all the marks on him once he was naked -though most people just assumed he got those tattoos himself.

“Hello there handsome.”, Author purred, leaning against the bar next to the man, golden eyes half-lidded as he took in the sight of the other man from his now closer position. The drunk man shifted to look at Author, a tired sort of expression on his face. “Hello..”, he mumbled, nearly slurred, and Author chuckled lowly. He reached out, brushing stray strands of hair from the man's face and behind his ear. “I think you had enough to drink, haven't you? Let me take you somewhere.”, Author murmured, leaning in close. The man hummed, the smell of alcohol on his breath, and one of his many soulmarks itched. Author ignored it. “Mhh..”, the man was clearly thinking, blinking at Author, fiddling with the glass in his hands. He shifted to turn his body towards Author, and he cupped the man's cheek in his hand, gently running his thumb over the man's lips. “Come on handsome.”, Author pulled back, just to help pull the other to his feet. Glad to hear the man had paid off all his drinks already, so Author could just pull him along with him.

“Wha's your n'me?”, the man slurred a little, but Author could understand him well enough. He hummed as he thought, before shrugging to himself. It wouldn't hurt to tell his name to a man who was too drunk to think straight. “Issac. And yours, handsome?”, he answered, leading his partner for the night to the nearest hotel. No need to drag the stranger through a dark forest to his own home -plus, Author could just leave as soon as he was awake again and leave the man to forget all about this. “Ed-... Edwa-ward. Edward. Ed.”, Edward stammered, furrowing his brows as he tried to think. It was almost endearing in a way, how he had to think so hard just to pronounce his own name. He clearly tried to ask something more, but he was struggling with the words, so Author didn't really listen. Instead, he dragged Edward to the hotel, got them a room, and brought him there.

He let Edward sit on the bed, climbing in his lap and straddling him, wrapping his arms around Edward's neck and kissing him deeply. Edward seemed unsure at first, but when Author ground down against him, he moaned and stopped worrying. Laying his hands on Author's hips, kissing him back as the man moved on top of him. Edward kissed and licked and nipped at Author's neck when he pulled back, making the man moan, his hands moving to push off Edward's jacket, and undo his shirt. Edward's hands were clumsy on Author's skin, struggling with the man's shirt -so eventually Author just pulled back enough to pull off his own shirt, and help Edward out of his in turn. Author vaguely noted the mark in form of an open book on Edward's collarbone, but didn't linger enough to notice any colours or not. He didn't want to know, and he didn't care, so he focused on kissing Edward again, kissing him deeply and hungrily. Edward was sloppy in turn, but he was also drunk.

The man's skin was warm, his body soft, and Author's hands happily explored what laid barren to him. Edward's hands moved over Author's chest, making an unhappy sound when they were met with another garment. “You're drunk enough to not care.”, Author muttered, shifting to lean back and pull his binder off over his head. He shouldn't have sex in it anyways, so he was glad he had picked someone drunk enough to probably neither care nor notice. And Edward truly didn't care, his hands moving to Author's soft breasts, and Author couldn't help the soft breath that left him as Edward's warm hands touched them how he did. He let himself merely enjoy the touches, breathing heavily as he rolled his hips over Edward's, feeling aroused. He moaned when Edward was back on his neck, sucking dark marks onto his skin, pleasuring him further and making him more wanting. Eventually though, Author had to pull back, getting off of Edward. He pulled a condom out of his pant's pocket, before working on getting them off of himself. Edward watched with a dreamy gaze, before he fumbled with his own belt and pants, until he could kick them off.

Author was now only dressed in panties and stockings -because he had felt like them before leaving his home, deciding that whoever he picked up tonight would be a lucky fucker. And Edward was apparently the lucky man who got to see him like this. And Author was pleased to see the man aroused and wanting. Author climbed back into Edward's lap, arms sliding around his neck, and Author kissed him deeply once more, breathing heavily as he claimed the man's mouth with his own. Kissing him felt good, no matter how sloppy it was, no matter how much Edward tasted like alcohol. Author didn't question why.

Their bodies were hot as they were pressed together, Edward's hands exploring Author's body, as the man held himself up, enjoying the touches and kisses. He was eventually the impatient one, pulling at both of their underwear respectively, until he had his night's partner free beneath him. Author was impatient with safety first, but that made the pleasure all the sweeter as he moaned, their bodies melding together perfectly, fitting so well together as if they were meant to be. Author lost himself in the repetitive movements, arms tight around Edward's neck as he moved, and the other man attacked his neck and shoulders, causing more pleasured moans to leave Author. It felt wonderful, making Author forget about all these soulmarks covering him, all these people he was supposedly connected to in a deep and meaningful way. All that mattered, was the pleasure filling his senses, the warmth of Edward's body against his, and the soft lips against his skin.

They reached their climax together, Edward groaning beneath Author, the writer kissing Edward breathlessly, swallowing his moans and breaths. Pulling back once he had no more air in his lungs, Author slumped against Edward's chest, feeling exhausted but happy. They had to move slightly though, Author needing to get off of Edward. After slight adjustments, the two men laid down in bed together. Edward was quickly out like a light, with Author soon following behind -snuggling into the warm embrace the other man so openly gave him. It was one of the best sleeps Author had gotten in a long time, unbothered by bad dreams or nightmares, barely waking up once or twice during the night. It didn't stop him from waking early in the morning, but that was alright.

He took his time with waking up, feeling the gentle rise and fall of Edward's chest, telling him he was still asleep. He would definitely have a hangover once he woke, and, hopefully, wouldn't remember Author. When he finally decided to be awake, Author rubbed his eyes, shifting away a little. He looked Edward over, his features gentle and soft as he slept so peacefully. It was nice like this, and Author found himself enjoying merely laying here and sleeping next to this man. That was, until it spotted the soulmark on Edward's collarbone again -the open book, the pages yellowed, the cover red. With slight panic starting to build, Author carefully got out of bed -as to not wake Edward- and hurried to the bathroom. He looked over the marks on him, and his eyes widened seeing the shooting star now coloured in with yellows and blues, and a hint of mint. “Oh god oh no-”, he hurried to gather his clothes and get dressed again, fleeing from the room. He did not want to acknowledge that he had found his soulmate, and had just had sex with him. Nope!

So Author fled the hotel, running from his soulmate -his damn romantic soulmate- and all the feelings that brought with it, back to his own home. It would be better this way, he told himself. He didn't need a soulmate, and he didn't want a soulmate. Hopefully Edward would forget about him, forget this had ever happened. Hopefully he wouldn't notice his colored soulmark any time soon, because that'd mean he'd be certain of his night with Author, and would probably remember, and try and fine him. And Author really didn't want that.

He didn't go back to the bar after that. He didn't want to see Edward again, he didn't want to risk the man looking for him there, so he just.. stayed away. He stayed in his cabin, sometimes unconsciously scratching at the coloured mark on his neck. He didn't want a soulmate. He didn't want a partner. He didn't want romance. He tried to distract himself with writing, but every time he sat down to write, his thoughts strayed from what he was writing to instead think about Edward. He wondered what Edward's job was. Hadn't he worn some sort of labcoat when they had met? No, no it mustn't have been. It probably had been closer to a trenchcoat than a labcoat. But that made him wonder, what if Edward was a scientist? (We've all been a scientist at one point in our lifes anyways). Or maybe he was a researcher? A doctor? Or maybe he was something entirely else. Maybe he worked with children? Or maybe he did something entirely else? He really wanted to know, he didn't know anything about Edward, and he wanted to know. But he also really didn't want to know. He wanted to forget all about Edward, and how gentle his touches had been, and how good his sloppy kisses had been, and how soft he had been....

He growled in frustration, head on the table as his hands tugged on his hair. He just wanted to write, but apparently, he wouldn't find peace until he was back with Edward. At least he didn't feel any, urgh, butterflies. The thought alone of such disgusting romantic feelings made him feel sick, and he couldn't imagine anyone actually feeling something like that. He knew they were destined for romance, so all he could hope for was, that he'd grow to enjoy it more when getting to know Edward. He didn't want to get to know Edward though. No! Nope sire, he didn't want anything to do with the man. Except he did, and every day he stayed holed up in his cabin away from him was torture. He was battling with himself, very much not wanting to go, but also desperately wanting to go.

With a deep sigh of resignation, Author abruptly stood up. He'd go back. There was just nothing he could do but try and find Edward again. He pocketed some pens and scraps of paper for emergencies, and made his way out of the cabin. He'd just find Edward, and put his thoughts at rest. Maybe if he just met him again, and told him he didn't want any romantic relationship, he'd feel better. He kept thinking over and over about what he was going to say, chewing on the pendant of his necklace as he walked and thought. He wasn't sure if what he was trying to do would work -he wouldn't even know if he were going to find Edward. But when he entered the bar, the bartender -Jim, someone who knew Author more or less, considering how often Author showed up here- perked up when he noticed him. “Issac!”, Jim called, beckoning Author over. He let the pendant drop out from his mouth, walking over. It was still early, so there weren't many people around yet. Author leaned against the bar, and it was obvious how uncomfortable he was. “The guy you left with couple days ago was around, asking for you. Left me his number, if you wanted it.”, Jim told Author. Somehow, Author wasn't surprised in the least, sighing heavily, rubbing his hands over his face.

“Yea give it to me.”, he muttered, letting himself be given the note. He could just not text Edward. But every fibre of his being wanted to text Edward, to call him, to meet with him again and touch him, feel him, hear him, have him. “Good luck.”, Jim wished him, making Author snort and wave him off, muttering a “yea yea” and leaving the bar again. He stared at the number on the paper, before eventually pulling out his phone. Having no clue what to text, he decided to call, because that would obviously be easier than texting. It rang a couple of times, before Edward picked up. “Edward Ipliér speaking.”, Edward said, and Author briefly wondered if the man was French, judging from how he pronounced his last name. Eeplee-er. How weird. “Hey, this is Issac.”, Author mumbled, not feeling quite as confident as he should've been. What was he supposed to say? He wasn't sure if this was any sort of a good idea anymore, and he really wanted to hang up now. “Issac!”, Edward gasped, and Author grabbed his pendant with his free hand, so he could chew on it while he walked. He wasn't sure if he should go home or not, so he just... walked.

“Yea...”, was Author's lame reply, knowing that was nowhere near as excited as Edward probably expected him to be. “Heard you were searching for me.”. “Yes! Issac I- well.”, Edward cleared his throat, reigning in his excitement. “I noticed my soulmark was coloured in after our... night together.”. Author takes a deep breath. He wasn't sure what else he expected, really. Edward would tell him he was his soulmate, and that it was romantic, and Author knew all of that already. “I don't want romance.”, Author said, quick and easy. Like a bandaid. Crush any hopes before they grew too much. “I'm... not interested in romance.”. Edward was silent, and there was a tiny speck of panic in Author's chest -because this was his soulmate, and he needed to be with him- but he stayed calm. He just said how he felt, because Edward deserved that. “That's... that's okay.”, Edward said softly, after a moment, and Author barely relaxed hearing him speak again. “We can... just be friends? I don't think I'll manage to function without you.”, he chuckled a little, a bit awkwardly, and Author knew exactly how he felt.

“Yeah, I feel the same. I haven't been able to focus on anything at all.”, Author replied, attempting a smile for the sake of how it'd affect his voice. He knew it didn't really work, but well. He tried. “Could... could we meet some time?”, Edward asked, almost hesitantly. “I'd like to get to know you.”. Author hummed softly. He could remember Edward's touch as clear as day, how gentle and loving he had been, how good his fingers had felt on his skin. He knew, once he met Edward again, he would want that again. “Sure.”, he replied simply then, because he didn't want to scare Edward with saying what he thought at that moment. He knew it couldn't possibly drive his soulmate away, but... still.

They agreed on a time and place, and directly the next day, Author was nearly excited to go meet Edward. Somewhere, he thought of this as a date. He tried not to though, because he didn't want this to be a date, even though it very much was, in the end. They met, and they talked. Author got to know Edward -he was a doctor, he was very interested in stars and astronomy, he usually wasn't one for one-night-stands, and was a very kind and caring man. Of course Author also talked about himself, who he was, what he did for a living. Neither mentioned anything about any weird powers they may or may not have. It was nice. They decided to take a walk, and when Author took Edward's hand, the man let him. Author couldn't help the tingles he felt, feeling Edward's warm hand against his own. It was probably because of how touch-starved he was, though he would never admit such a thing out loud just like that. If Edward did take notice of it on his own, he didn't say anything about it.

“This was nice.”, Edward said softly, smiling up at Author. He was happy, he was comfortable with Author, and he had really enjoyed his time with Author. He didn't want him out of his life -he wanted to be with him, though he knew Author didn't. “It was.”, Author agreed lightly. He had enjoyed himself. He had liked just... spending time with Edward. He didn't want to say it out loud, but he didn't want to just cut Edward out of his life anymore. He knew he wouldn't be able to either way, but to never be close to him again? He couldn't imagine it. He couldn't fathom his life without Edward anymore. “Can I call you sometimes?”, Edward asked softly, lightly squeezing Author's hand -still holding it, as they had for their entire walk already. “Sure. No promises I'll reply though.”, Author replied, giving a mischievous grin to Edward, who chuckled lightly in return, smiling and nodding.

They soon parted ways after, bidding the other a good night, with the promise of future texting and calling. Author already knew he'd have to meet Edward again, would eventually show him how to find his cabin, because he wanted Edward to be close to him. He also knew he'd have to tell Edward about his other marks, his other soulmates he had, the ones he may or may not know. Well, so far he did know them, he simply... didn't want to. Not that they were horrible people -not worse than he himself was at least- but simply because Author didn't want to have them as soulmates. It didn't help that two of his soulmates were also soulmates with each other. So he preferred to stay away, and merely partake in a group chat they had. Which they specifically had for him, because even not having contact with his platonic soulmates was grating on him after a while. He hoped Edward would be okay with it. Of course he would be, he was his soulmate too after all, but... well. Author couldn't help the spark of anxiety it brought, the thought of Edward hating how many soulmates Author had. It'd be fine. Next time they met, he'd tell him.

#the author #dr iplier #admin writing #soulmate au

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beerecordings · 4 years

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I was thinking about that Therapy AU (ish. thing. question mark?) that you brainstormed a few months back, and I find myself wondering—which of the boys realized “oh hey, I should probably see a therapist” first? And what was the impetus? (Jackie. I’m asking about Jackie. I want to know the story behind how Jackie found his Alderian/Adlerian duder and why he sprung for it. Also the thing about who came first, but Jackie. My boy. Im lov him)

lol yeah you’re right it’s not so much an au as something that i’d like to be canon in just about every universe i come up with lollll. but yeah hm…

I think Henrik goes to see a therapist first because he’s been through literal hell and there’s no way he can handle any of this without professional help. and everybody knows that, you know, like… it’s easier to justify some reasons to go than others. so even though everybody probably needs it they’re all here like “oh GEEZ someone else has had it SO MUCH WORSE than me so HE’S going to therapy” and they all end up ganging up on Henrik with their love and support like “yeah bud you need to see somebody please we’re worried about you!!” and it’s hard to argue when he’s both physically and mentally exhausted so he just ends up letting them take him. he doesn’t have his existentialist therapist at first, that’s too intensive for his mental energy at the time, but he just sees a nice calm therapist who really helps him deal with some of the outstanding issues and find ways to hold on when he’s really bad off. and the others are all so excited and supportive but for some reason when he recommends they try it too, they seem to think he’s joking?

then Chase gets court-ordered to therapy and he’s like “FUCK fine!!” and it makes him sob his heart out every week and he feels so dumb and weak and stupid for like two months before he starts to come around to it. and it’s Henrik who really convinces him that it’s okay, and then eventually it actually starts to help?? and he gets to see the kids again!!! ahh!!! it’s a good time! he and Henrik start scheduling their appointments at the same time so they can get lunch together first and then walk home together too.

JJ gets pressured by the family to join them after he starts getting into some really bad habits like getting into fights and tearing his fists open beating up his punching bag and staring at his razor for long enough that Henrik gets scared and practically drags him there himself (he would not go but he hates to see Henrik so nervous and upset). Marvin has a complete breakdown after years of being the family tough guy without crying once in front of the others and they all get freaked out and ask him to go see somebody for their sake if nothing else (he would not go but when his little brothers look at him like that) and then Jackie is there like “good job guys! I’ll just be over here! love you! :)”

cause the thing is Marvin had convinced himself that he has to be tough enough to deal with everything he goes through in silence, but Jackie is WORSE because he’s just convinced himself he doesn’t have anything to deal with. He’s the big brother, first of all, so he just doesn’t have time for that, and he’s a hero, so nothing’s going to get to him anyway, of course. and then he just hasn’t been through as much as the others, right? Henrik and JJ with Anti, and Chase with his family, and his poor Marv must have been dealing with so much so quietly for so long, and if Jackie had just been a better brother to him he wouldn’t have HAD to do that, he wouldn’t have had to hide anything from anyone, he’d come to Jackie instead of hiding his problems but he doesn’t because he doesn’t trust him enough and that’s because of Jackie’s failures and ALL OF THIS IS JACKIE’S FAULT -

yeah, no, no problems! he’s good! he’s cruising! He doesn’t have it that bad he’s fine! he only struggles sometimes cause he’s a baby, right? he should toughen up, after all he heard Henrik sobbing last night and he has it so much worse, he’s been through so much, Jackie needs to look like everything’s okay so Henrik feels safe and calm. and then everything will be better and everything will be fine. once his brothers are fine, he’ll be fine.

and then his brothers are fine.

he stops, pauses, looks around.

Chase is out with the kids, sober for a year straight. JJ’s just got a new job and he seems happy and well-adjusted. Henrik’s showing his scars without freaking out and has been dealing with his panic attacks well. Marvin admits he had a bad day but says he’s going to make tomorrow a better one! Jackie’s never heard him say anything like that in his life and he seems to mean it, what the hell is happening?

all his brothers are fine and he’s still not… what is happening…. if everyone’s okay why does he still feel so bad about himself?

The others want to go to family therapy now. Apparently JJ’s therapist keeps recommending it because so many of his issues come back to worrying about upsetting the others, and then Marvin’s therapist agrees, and they’re all pretty comfy with therapy by now, and they want to go, they want to try it. and of course he’s not going to turn them down!! yeah, they need him to be the calm big brother in the room, keeping everything together, making sure they’re all safe? of course! he’ll come and support them all!! he’s a little bit terrified at the very prospect but they need this so he’ll do it, he can do it! for their sake. if it’s for their sake it’s okay, it’s permissible, and it’s not weak because it’s not for him, it’s for them.

and then they get in there and it’s so much messier than he expected. first of all the therapist right away goes “so everyone is seeing a therapist personally but you, Jackie” and he goes hot red and feels all his brothers looking at him and makes up something about not needing that and he sees Henrik turn away from him when he says it. and then she keeps trying to draw him into it and he hates that, this wasn’t what he planned, he just wanted to sit here and tell everyone they were doing great!! and then, oh, hell, everything is coming out. everything is coming bleeding out of his brothers and it’s messy and it’s ugly and he’s not a bystander, he’s a part of it, they even say his name sometimes, they even seem to accuse him sometimes. it’s not what he expected, it’s not at all what he expected, it’s not Chase going “I’m sad sometimes when you’re sad Marvin” and Marvin going “oh no I’m sad when you’re sad let’s work on this :’((” it’s like Jameson saying “I can’t tell any of you ANYTHING because half the time you treat me like an infant and the other half of the time you get so upset that even though I want to confide in you I can’t because I know it’ll send you all spiraling, I feel like I’m not allowed to be fucking suicidal but I am and I can’t trust any of you to deal with me - ” and then before he knows it Jackie is fucking sobbing in the therapy room so hard they all have to be done for the day and JJ is sitting there staring at him like he’s just proven his point and the guilt comes crashing down and he feels like he’s dying and he REFUSES to go back next week.

they’re all upset and JJ won’t talk to him. he WON’T go back to that, that was so horrible and humiliating, he’s not doing that again, he’s NEVER trying therapy again.

his brothers go to family therapy without him. that’s fine. that’s good. they’re allowed to. he waits for things to go back to normal.

they don’t.

JJ never talks to him anymore, not about the things that matter. He says there’s no bad blood between them and most likely that’s true, but the fact is he just doesn’t trust him. can’t confide in him. Jackie starts to feel sick every time they’re together, wondering if his baby brother is suicidal right now and just hiding it from him, sitting there doing his embroidery with a movie playing on the couch, thinking about killing himself. Jackie’s starting to get upset more often. Jackie’s starting to crumble. everyone is fine, for the most part. he doesn’t want to upset that. doesn’t want to put the burden of himself on their shoulders. he’s being such a fucking baby. why is he crying himself to sleep again every night? why did he have to go hide in the bathroom for five minutes at the restaurant yesterday because someone said the word antifreeze? why does Chase teasing him about taking the last piece of cake make him want to die so badly? why isn’t he ever happy anymore? Marvin asks him if he wants to go to the arcade and he doesn’t, he isn’t up for it. energy’s gone. hasn’t had much for a long time but he could bury the exhaustion from their sight and that was all that matters. Jamie accidentally cuts his thumb one day in the kitchen and Jackie wants in and sees the blood dripping onto his wrist and he loses it, he loses it, he’s screaming, he’s shouting at JJ, and Jameson just stands there and takes it, Jameson stands there staring at him when everybody else is shouting at Jackie to cut it out, stop it, what the hell Jackie? Jamie is still standing there in silence when Jackie has a full meltdown on the kitchen floor, followed promptly by a miserable, silent, exhausted shutdown that lasts for two days afterwards.

he goes back to family therapy. it isn’t really working. he’s really tired and sad and every time someone tries to confront him about an issue in their family he might be involved in he immediately starts crying and apologizing again and again, taking all the blame on his shoulders, promising them they didn’t do anything wrong even if they did, not accepting comfort or apologies from any of them, everything’s his fault, he promises he’ll fix it, he’ll never go out on patrol again if that’s what they want. and it’s so uncomfortable for everyone and soon family therapy starts turning into “tip-toeing around Jackie while Jackie feels miserable and gets worse” and their therapist tells them this isn’t working anymore.

You need to go to a therapist, they start telling him.

I’ve been going with you all the time, he says.

No, they say, you need to go to a therapist.

Oh.

Well, he can’t do that.

Well, why not? Huh?

Because he just can’t.

Because that’s not who he is.

Why isn’t it who he is?

Jackie, why?

Jackie, say something, say anything.

Why?

Because he’s not allowed to be that. He’s not allowed to need help. He’s got to keep them safe - you don’t - I do!

fuck’s sake, Jackie. You can’t keep doing this anymore. You just can’t.

I know, he says. I know.

but he won’t go even when it’s all sitting out in the open and everyone’s staring at him like they’re waiting for him to shatter into glass because the family therapist was not what he needed and he’s scared of the questions and the feeling of being torn apart and the conflict and the sadness and he thinks all therapy’s like that and it’s not for him and he won’t go. and then one day sweet little brother number three comes and lays down with him and hugs him real tight and puts himself right there in Jackie’s arms so his big brother gets to hold him and push their heads together and hear his heartbeat and feel him rubbing at his shoulder. and Chase has probably waited for a soft calm night to tell him this but there’s this really cool thing his therapist recommended for Jackie’s sake where you don’t have to talk at all in therapy if you don’t want to. they just give you this great sand and you can run your hands all over it and then they get all these like toys and models and things out and they ask you questions like “tell me about a time when you were happy” and you just have to build, man, and work from there. and he knows he’s been so sad and tired lately and he wants him to try it because he loves him and didn’t Jackie used to try and convince him to go too?

and you wouldn’t see me as a failure if i went? and you wouldn’t think you had to take care of me? and it wouldn’t be weird for you? and you wouldn’t make fun of me for it? and nobody would ask me too many questions? and i could just build?

and Chase gives him a lot of no’s and one good solid yes, yeah, bud, you can just build, and Jackie goes two weeks later and sits down with the sand and the toys in front of him and just lets it all go and, in plastic houses and little figurines that remind him of his family and the cool soothing weight of the sand in his hands, he tells the truth at last, without ever speaking once.

plus his therapist is really funny and sweet and positive and warm with him. and she keeps going “just between you and me” and he grins and knows he can tell her anything and it doesn’t have to come back and hurt his brothers at all if he doesn’t want it to, he can even say Forbidden Horrible things like “it makes me angry when he does this” or “I wanted to kill that man that night and it scared me how strong I was” and “sometimes I think I’m just as much a mistake as Anti was” and slowly, slowly, they start to work on it. and he learns to apologize respectfully and fairly, without being accidentally manipulative, and he learns to take care of them in a way that he couldn’t before, and he learns that he’s important too, and needed and loved, even if he isn’t strong or positive or perfect every day of every year.

they start going back to family therapy once he’s ready. they keep getting more and more tools to help them put themselves and each other back together again. it’s a good fit after all.

#suicidal ideation tw #panic attack tw #distress tw #but it ends sweet right?#he's a good boy

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enchanted-prose · 4 years

Text

#16 Blackberry Night i

in which the lady renlyn gets a vibe check

Word count: 4,502

Characters: the whole squad (including fink and kerwyn) so im not gonna list all of them because we’d be here for a while

Notes: every girl deserves a cinderella moment

Enjoy!

His room was too sparsely decorated to be distracting. Jaron tugged on Imogen’s long braid, earning a light hearted smack.

He’d called for a meeting with his inner circle half an hour before, but hadn’t expected anyone to arrive early, not while the morning sun was still shoving its way across the horizon.

However, Tobias was standing before him. Quaking before him.

“I’m in a much better mood,” Jaron tugged on Imogen’s braid again, and managed to catch her hand. “Ha! Caught you!”

Imogen made a face, “Would you like a blue ribbon for that, love?”

“I would, actually. Give it to me now.”

Tobias coughed, “I, ah, I decided to let you rest before I told you what I found out.”

Saints, what had he asked during his feverish ramblings this time?

The events from the previous evening bled into a continuous stream. Checking on Feall, the blow to his leg, and then falling asleep in the physician’s chambers. Jaron tapped his knee. He and Imogen were discussing Mireldis Thay that morning. They’d figured out a link to her: Jolly.

“Is it- is she dead? Did Jolly have the information we wanted?” Jaron trailed his thumb over each of Imogen’s knuckles.

He could hear his own words echoing back at him, the unintelligible claims of fever and exhaustion. Jaron brushed a strand of hair away from Imogen's face, repeating the motion despite having tucked all of her stray hairs back into place. He'd had a suspicion about who Mireldis Thay was.

No, no.

He had several suspicions, ranging from Ayvar all the way down to Dawn of the Dragon's Keep.

Although the latter was seeming more and more unlikely with each passing day.

Tobias looked to Imogen, "I told Amarinda a few minutes ago, I didn't want either of you to be alarmed."

"Are you Mireldis Thay?" Jaron pressed a hand to his heart.

It was thumping too hard in his chest. Trying to escape.

Trying to find a safe place to rest. To let stone walls down and grow branches. Tree branches, specifically. Ones strong enough to climb and hide in.

Patience was a virtue Jaron never cared to master. His rabbit heart only proved that.

"Saints curse it all, stop hesitating and just tell me what you were able to find out," Jaron burst.

Imogen flinched.

"I, ah, well," Tobias scratched the back of his head, apparently finding his toes much more interesting than Jaron's frown. "I should warn you that Jolly's not afraid, or at least that's what he told me."

"This isn't about Jolly, it's about Mireldis Thay."

"But it is about Jolly, Jaron. And Feall. Everyone here has become a pawn and none of us caught it."

The rabbit thumping in Jaron's ribs wasn't easing. He tried to calm himself by pressing Imogen's fingers to his chin.

Pieces of a game.

Pawns.

Jaron had been a pawn before, and he had no intention of going back.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" He muttered.

"You were unconscious, Jaron, you wouldn't have been able to understand," Imogen's quiet reminder almost made his frustration melt.

"I haven't spoken with Feall," Tobias finally looked up. "He's still resting and it's cruel to try to force words from an injured man. We were fools to put pressure on Amarinda and not him. Ami's lived in Carthya for more than a decade, Feall hasn't."

There was a simple reason behind respecting Feall's privacy, and Jaron hated it. He hated that he'd been too trusting.

And yet, Feall had given them so many reasons to trust him.

"You still haven't told me what you found, Tobias."

Silence chills, even in the middle of summer. Jaron's room was far too cold, far too quiet.

"Jolly never gave Lady Thay's name outright," Tobias rolled his shoulders back, as if bracing himself for some sudden death at sharing his secret. "Instead, he informed me that Mireldis Thay has indeed been in Carthya this entire time, talking with us and earning our trust. She's been here the entire time, ever since Feall and King Oberson came to pay homage to you. And there's only one person I can think of that's been here, becoming friends with us."

The words were too frightening to say.

“Renlyn Karise,” Jaron frowned. “You mean to tell me Renlyn Karise is Mireldis Thay?”

Tobias nodded.

However, Imogen shook her head in disagreement. “That’s impossible, you know how much she and Feall get along with each other. Feall’s told us multiple times that the Faola attacking him had to be Mireldis Thay.”

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer,” said Jaron.

“How did Amarinda take it?” Imogen asked.

“Ah, she- she didn’t accept the news. She still hasn’t accepted the news. We agreed to think on the matter and discuss it once we’ve both sat with the information.”

Amarinda didn’t take the news well?

Could she be blamed?

Renlyn Karise had a murderous stare and an ambiguous streak, but Jaron couldn’t picture her being bold enough to kick him and crawl back to the castle.

Though maybe he was wrong. He’d gambled on another person’s behavior before.

Playing the long game was something Jaron knew well. It took skill and foresight, both traits were something Renlyn needed to maintain a series of business ventures.

She’d tricked him into buying things, and now he’d trick her into revealing herself.

“I’ll handle it,” Jaron sat straight up, jostling Imogen in the process.

“Jaron, we’re here to help y-“ she began.

“Please tell me you didn’t invite her to the meeting,” said Tobias, pressing his hands to his forehead. “By the Saints, you invited her to the meeting.”

Yes, actually, Jaron did invite Renlyn.

But for a different reason than Tobias and Imogen expected.

Roden was among the first people to visit Jaron that morning, bringing news of the Faola’s escape with him. News of Regar helping with the escape. Jaron hid his disappointment with a cheeky grin and quick forgiveness.

In the end, Regar’s imprisonment would only help Jaron. He’d read a series of letters since Row and Regar came to Drylliad.

One could only see the same name so many times before noticing patterns.

If Jaron’s guess was correct, he’d give himself a medal.

“She holds valuable opinions once you get past her general unapproachability,” Jaron grinned.

“I don’t think we should be taking this so lightly,” said Tobias. He looked like a preening crow each time he patted down his deep green vest. “Your bruise runs too deep for jokes.”

“See, there’s a detail you forgot. Did you catch it, Imogen?”

The slight shake from Imogen’s head gave Jaron his answer.

He’d mulled over the prospect of catching Mireldis Thay for several days before cracking down and searching through books. When that didn’t help, Jaron turned to Kerwyn, who’d been present during King Eckbert’s search for a suitable bride. The search led Eckbert to Amarinda, in turn leading to a rush of Bymarian information.

Kerwyn knew little more than Jaron, but that was better than nothing. Kerwyn knew the names of all seventeen Bymarian noble lords, their five kingdom states, and their five lesser kings. Graer Thay was a staunch military leader, who’d left the keys to his kingdom state to his second wife.

Graer Thay vanished just before the Avenian war.

Queen Danika’s investigators should’ve been looking for two Thays, not one.

Tobias was rubbing his wrists, and glanced over his shoulder. Once he’d finished with his wrists, he tugged at his shirt’s collar. His odd ritual continued as he patted the hem of his vest.

“Jolly never gave you the actual name, Tobias, you made an assumption,” Jaron explained. “A very compelling assumption, yes, but believability doesn’t make something true.”

Tobias scowled, “You’re the one who asked me to be a spy! Let me stitch a person back together while you manage to topple entire regimes because you’re slippery enough.”

“We haven’t toppled a king recently,” Imogen tapped her chin. “We should add that to our future plans.”

“You’re right! We’ve focused too long on our own problems, it’s high time that we cause

problems for somebody else,” said Jaron. “Let’s practice on Tobias.”

“Jaron! I’m your friend, your doctor, your regent, and a member of your inner circle! That’s not a good idea!”

People often forgot how easy it was for Jaron to remember details.

Details like Roden rubbing his neck and Mott grabbing his side when a door shut loud enough.

Tobias’s little detail was much quieter than reaching for an invisible pain. He patted his clothes, his hair, his wrists.

Almost like he was checking to make sure that he was still alive.

The antidote for these bursts of eerie movement varied from person to person. With Imogen, Jaron reached for her hands. With Mott, it was holding a conversation.

With Tobias, it was merciless teasing to the point of a frustrated outburst.

“Let’s replace every single one of his left socks with socks that are two sizes too big,” Jaron gestured to Tobias’s boots. “Not too damaging, but enough to cause discomfort.”

“Don’t be cruel, he did do you a favor last night,” Imogen said.

Tobias opened his mouth to speak, but Jaron cut him off. “That’s why the socks will only be two sizes bigger instead of being made from woven metal.”

“Metal cloth is saved for gowns, not socks,” Tobias crossed his arms.

“They’ll make an exception for me.”

The door creaked open. Roden held a hand to his eyes, “Stop yelling, I haven’t eaten breakfast.”

“Didn’t I just see you?” Jaron frowned.

“I had an errand to run.”

“That’s what Fink’s for.”

“It wasn’t a Fink type of errand.”

Mott and Amarinda entered next, going their separate ways when Amarinda stood beside Tobias.

Amarinda’s frown, though small, couldn’t be missed.

Roden and Mott began dragging chairs to Jaron’s bedside as more people came. Imogen would sit on Jaron’s left, while Harlowe sat on his right.

Jaron took great care to instruct everyone to leave the seat nearest to the corner open for Renlyn.

It provided both privacy and openness.

The corner would feel like a hiding place despite having no cover.

Renlyn slipped into the room just before Harlowe with Fink serving as her escort. When Fink received his nod of approval from Mott, he crossed his legs and sat at the end of Jaron’s bed.

A good move; chairs weren’t always ideal.

There was never any rest for the weary. Despite the ache in his leg and Tobias’s insistence that he rested, Jaron had his trusted circle gathered around his bed. He’d made his decision regarding several situations.

Jaron held out a hand to Imogen. Her touch was almost enough to take the pain away.

“Let’s get this all out of the way,” he stretched his arms above his head. “I have every intention of yelling at Renlyn for putting up decorations while I was trying to recover.”

Renlyn only smirked.

Much had happened during the night, or at least that’s what Imogen told him as she helped him hobble back to his bed. Regar was in prison, the Faola who attacked Jaron escaped, and Lord Row was still waiting to know if Carthya would help Avenia.

“Shall we start with the happier business or get right to depressing ourselves?” Jaron leaned back against his pillows, eying the people around his bed.

Imogen, Amarinda, Mott, Tobias, Roden, Renlyn, Harlowe, Fink, and Kerwyn.

His greatest supporters.

Harlowe patted the papers in front of him, “I suppose the happier business, it’ll soften the difficulties to come.”

“I’ve done this in an unorthodox way,” Jaron said. “We can’t hesitate to help Avenia, not if we want to promote good relations. Lord Row requests a Carthyan presence in Isel, and it is what he’ll get. Harlowe, we will station soldiers in Libeth, and place Sir Alistair Derforgall in Isel.”

“Alistair’s a good choice,” Roden nodded.

“I know, it’s why he’s going to Isel. He has enough experience to be useful and enough smarts not to do something stupid.”

Amarinda’s back was as straight as a rod, “Lord Row will be pleased.”

He’d better be happy. Jaron didn’t want to throw out military assistance to every lord who threw himself at the king’s throne.

Renlyn raised her hand, and spoke when Jaron nodded to her. “I have several holdings in Isel that require protecting, I’ll likely hire an army should revolution break out, they’ll be there to assist Alistair.”

“I’ll hold you to that promise,” said Jaron.

“I’ll try to meet your expectations then.”

Was that really the face of a cold blooded killer?

Probably.

Jaron ran his thumb over Imogen’s fingers as Harlowe scribbled down Jaron’s decision on a piece of parchment.

“Speaking of foreign powers, what are we to do with King Oberson?” Kerwyn stroked his massive beard.

He looked like a philosopher of old.

“We can’t turn him away, it’s rude and I have no intention of making any new enemies,” Jaron gestured to his leg. “I already have one too sneaky to be caught.”

“It’s time you started taking soldiers with you when you leave the castle,” Mott said.

“For the first time, I think you might be right.”

Tobias’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, “Is it raining ducks outside? Are pigs flying? I never thought I’d see the day that Jaron agrees with Mott regarding his own safety.”

“And onto the next subject,” Jaron pointed a finger at Tobias; he’d get him back for that comment later. “Commander Regar is currently waiting on us to hear about his fate. Roden, would you mind explaining the situation from last night to us?”

Roden’s expression hardened. “Last night after the attack on Jaron, I tracked Regar to the Vaults. He’d already captured the Faola responsible for the attack, and chose to behave according to the old laws rather than turn the Faola over to the crown’s custody.”

“Odd,” Mott scowled. “And alarming.”

“Regar managed to help us get the Faola out of the Vaults,” Roden continued. “However, he claims to have slipped and he caught my shoulder for balance, allowing the Faola to escape. I doubt the Faola stuck around.”

“I think the Faola did stick around,” countered Tobias. “I think he’s still in the castle.”

“But why?” Fink scratched his nose. “You’d be an idiot to stick around a place where everyone wants you dead.”

Jaron cracked a sly grin, a faint memory of teasing Fink back at the pirates’ camp snatching his attention.

“The Faola likely has another goal they value more than their own life,” Renlyn clasped her hands in her lap. “Foolish from our perspective, yes, but to the Faola it must be important.”

“We’ll discuss the matter of the Faola later,” Jaron said. “Regar’s situation requires our attention for a moment.”

“Will you give him the punishment for treason?” Kerwyn leaned back in his chair.

“That’s not something to be taken lightly, and I won’t have somebody executed for treason based off of a stumble.”

“His stumble could cost you your life, my king.”

Jaron waved his hand, “Did you know you can rearrange the letters of certain words to form other words?”

“Jaron, please.”

“I’ve chosen to pardon Regar as a demonstration of kindness and also because I think he holds some use to us,” he said. Jaron squeezed Imogen’s hand, “Besides, it would be disrespectful to kill Lord Row’s hired commander after telling him we’ll give Avenia the aid she needs. You don’t make friends by giving them a prize and then breaking their foot.”

“We’re playing this game for friends now?” Renlyn arched an eyebrow.

“Yes, yes we are. Does that bother you, Lady Karise?”

“Not every friendship holds the best intentions, my king.”

Tobias plucked at his collar, his eyes glancing from Renlyn to Jaron without a hint of subtlety.

The trap had been set. Jaron kept his gaze locked on Renlyn. She didn’t seem like she’d run away, but he’d been wrong about her before.

“A bold claim, coming from a girl wearing a false name,” Jaron kept his voice even, kept his face almost icy. “The pattern was hard to follow, but it made sense. Lord Feall came here first, followed by Jolly, followed by you.”

Renlyn’s movement was slow. Too slow.

She had the speed of a predator tensing before a pounce.

“Just what are you suggesting, my lord?” Renlyn asked. Her eyebrows had risen and her mouth curled down. She was daring him.

Daring him to say the name.

“I’m suggesting that you’re Mireldis Thay,” Jaron forced a smile. “You sent Jolly here to gather intel on Lord Feall, you joined the Faola, and used that as a cover to kill him while still maintaining a comfortable life.”

The silence that followed rivaled the chilling, never ending void of a coffin.

Everyone looked to Renlyn, but she never looked away from Jaron.

“That poses a curious question,” Renlyn mused. “I’m not not Mireldis Thay, just as Princess Amarinda is not not Mireldis Thay. Are we all who we really say we are, your Majesty?”

“Answer the question,” Roden growled. He’d pushed his chair away from the bed, obviously preparing to apprehend Renlyn.

Mott had mimicked the motion.

“Ask it again, if you didn’t like what I said. Be more direct.”

Renlyn was pushing her limits on purpose, Jaron recognized the way she danced around the question. He inhaled, watching for any betrayal of emotion on her face.

All she did was stare at him.

“Are you Mireldis Thay, Lady Karise?” He asked. “Have you been lying to my face the entire time you’ve served my wife?”

“If you require me to be Mireldis Thay, then I am she.”

The answer wasn’t what Jaron wanted. It wasn’t what anyone wanted. Renlyn’s motives were clear at one point; serve the kingdom by being a companion to the queen. But now it wasn’t so easy.

Everyone flinched as Renlyn stood. She flashed a rare, glittering smile. “There is no need to escort me to the dungeons, I’m still a member of the nobility and I’m complying with your accusations. Captain Harlowe, Sir Fink, you can accompany me to my chambers.”

“Excuse me?” Jaron leaned forward. “Do you think this is funny, Lady Karise?”

“I do, actually, but I’m not here to cause a ruckus. Do enjoy Blackberry Night at my expense, King Jaron. May the festivities distract and guide you to the answer you seek.”

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

Jaron almost felt guilty about locking Renlyn in her chambers when he saw the finished decorations for Blackberry Night.

Candles hung in perfect little cages, their light bouncing off of gilded plants. A faint sparkling dust tumbled from the ceiling. Every noble was dressed in shades of cream, gold, and pink.

Even Jaron conformed to the strict color code.

He’d given up fighting Mott about needing an escort, his argument fading to nothing after his inability to stand for more than ten minutes without needing a rest. Jaron agreed to let Mott keep an eye on him until Imogen came.

One of the best additions to the hall was a series of ivy covered trellises forming tiny square rooms. Jaron and Mott had managed to squeeze into one before a forbidden couple could take it. The ivy walls didn’t mask conversations, but it did manage to give Jaron a moment of privacy.

A moment to build walls to block prying eyes.

“That couch looks all too appealing,” Jaron noted, crushing his hand into a fist.

His leg didn’t control him.

“Sit down then,” Mott said. “You don’t want to collapse in front of everyone.”

Very true, unfortunately.

The great hall was packed with glittering doublets and wide gowns. Trying to get to the tables stacked with sweets would require military assistance.

Jaron stared at the couch. “Do you think I went too easy on Renlyn?”

Mott crossed his arms over his plain white shirt, obviously thinking of an answer. He shrugged.

“Maybe I was too hard.”

“I think it’s dangerous to assume things, Jaron. But that applies to all people, not just Renlyn.”

“Too many things make sense if she really were Mireldis Thay, but there’s still a few inconsistencies. It’s not quite perfected.”

“So tell me what you know, and we’ll figure it out together.”

“This is the longest you’ve been nice to me, Mott,” Jaron cracked a grin. “Is it because somebody kicked me?”

“Take a seat on the couch.”

He didn’t need to be told twice. Jaron collapsed against the cushions, his leg sighing in relief.

The music playing, some Mendenwal styled waltz, still managed to be heard despite the hundreds of conversations all at once. Jaron tapped the beat of the waltz out on his leg.

Regar, Regar, Regar.

When rearranged, it posed a striking resemblance to another infamous name.

Jaron couldn’t keep his discovery to himself. If he was wrong, so be it, but the pattern was too clever to keep hidden.

“Did you know you can rearrange the letters of certain words to form other words?” Jaron asked, repeating the same phrase he’d used when meeting with his inner circle.

“Yes, you mentioned that,” Mott said. “What words have you created this time?”

“None, actually. I’m just thinking about false names. I lived with a stolen name for a good portion of my life, and I know how important it is to find a name that reminds you of who you are without letting other people know.”

“Are you still thinking about Mireldis Thay?”

Jaron nodded, “I think we’ve been focusing on the wrong Thay.”

Had it not been for the sudden hush falling over the crowd, Jaron would’ve thrown out his newest theory. But not with the quiet. Not where people could hear him and pass on the information.

It could wait.

The continued quiet was too loud to be ignored. Jaron forced himself off of the trellis, using Mott as a support to peek out of the trellis walled room.

Mott was there to push Jaron’s chin back up when his mouth fell open.

Amarinda and Imogen were walking down the stairs with their arms linked. Though Amarinda looked pleasant enough in her gold gown, Jaron had eyes only for Imogen.

“Get out of the way! That’s my wife!” Jaron hissed as he wormed through the crowd of nobles.

Imogen rivaled the spring sun. She was warm, inviting, and covered in only the calmest blooms. Pale pink fabric climbed her arms before vanishing into a pair of round sleeves and reemerging in the front panel of her gown. Tiny pearls had been strung into her hair.

He had every intention of freeing every single one.

“Sorry I’m late,” Imogen flashed an apologetic smile. “Plans changed.”

“I’m going to kiss you right now,” Jaron said.

“Oh, at least let me find my husband first,” groaned Amarinda.

“I think he’s nursing a head injury.”

Imogen laughed, “I haven’t seen him go that shade of red in too long.”

The musicians began to play again. Jaron did his best to fulfill his promise to kiss his wife, but Imogen’s dodging abilities were improving with time.

“No, I put paint on my lips and I refuse to be the girl with lip paint all over her chin,” Imogen put her hand over Jaron’s mouth.

His words were muffled. “You’re the queen, it’s different.”

“Lip paint is messy!”

“The messier the better!”

He’d get his kiss. Jaron knew he would.

Taking Imogen by the hand, Jaron led her to the center of the floor, not at all ashamed of holding her hand like a trophy.

“Are you sure you can dance?” Imogen asked.

“I’ll force myself through at least half of one, but I have other plans for this evening,” he said, nodding his head towards the trellis walled spaces.

Imogen snickered, and set her hand on Jaron’s shoulder as their dance began.

Every one of her features was as familiar as the back of his hand, but he never gave up the chance to study her face. The curve of her nose, the fullness of her bottom lip. Her springtime smile.

There could never be anyone else for him.

Only Imogen.

It was her hand that he reached for in the night to remind himself that he was safe. To remind himself that he’d found somebody who’d never abandon him in the name of peace. He reached for her when the pirate brand on his arm ached and when the past he shoved away couldn’t be shoved any longer.

The throbbing ache in his leg was slowly returning.

Her hand, still calloused from her years as a servant, was a perfect fit in his. If he held on just a little tighter, he could finish the dance.

King or not, Jaron refused to keep Imogen from being treated the way she deserved.

And meant ignoring the pain in his leg for the duration of a song.

“Do you want to-,” Imogen started.

Jaron shook his head, “I only want to be here with you. Tell me what you did today. During the afternoon. I didn’t get to see you.”

“I played with the kitten,” her smile brightened the room. “Amarinda tells me that if I keep giving treats for no reason, the kitten will get too fat to walk. She’d have to roll around.”

“I’d have a carriage made, one that can be pulled by a team of tiny rats. That way, Fink gets his rat, and your cat can get around.”

“But wouldn’t the cat eat the rats?”

“Nonsense, if the cat’s too fat to walk, it can’t catch anything.”

Imogen continued tracing her steps through her afternoon, explaining that the gown she wore wasn’t what she’d originally planned, but she’d felt a surge of spontaneity. The seed pearls in her hair were also a last minute add in.

Nobody could ever match Imogen.

Not her strength nor her undeniable ability to make everyone she met feel wanted.

It was still a struggle to accept that she’d chosen him out of every other man in Carthya.

He was silent when the song ended and Imogen helped him limp to the ivy guarded rooms. Words were hard to come by when both pain and burning devotion met to fight for control.

“Sit by me,” Jaron patted the couch cushion beside him, his smile was small, but he preferred it to a forced grimace of a grin. “I promise I won’t get lip paint on your chin.”

“Are you sure you don’t want to return to bed?” Imogen asked.

“I want to be with you.”

“And I don’t want you to be in pain.”

“It’s not so bad when you’re with me.”

Too much hid behind Jaron’s words. The pain in his leg would go away, and it would come back the next time he was kicked there. It came and went.

As did the pain of the past.

But Imogen made it bearable.

#the ascendance series #the streets of drylliad #imogen #king jaron #prince jaron #jarogen centric #i love them #also uh #renlyn #is my faVE #at this point everyone is mireldis thay #fic friday #and its technically still friday

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wolfqueen-is-here · 5 years

Text

Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten (Jonsa Secret Santa 2018)

Dearest @moonchildslife, I am so sorry for my delay, Christmas was crazier than I expected, and I didn’t finish my gift on time. But it is here now, and I hope you don’t find it too terrible ;). I wish you a wonderful year with Jonsa becoming canon in April and our fandom wishes coming true. Be happy, be healthy, be yourself! <3

Many thanks to @jonsasecretsanta2018 who made all of this happen, you truly are amazing!

A/N Don’t be alarmed by a brief mention of the Hound. I promise you, it has nothing to do with SanSan in any way except mentioning The Un-Kiss. Book!canon, but mostly show!canon, can be interpreted both as a filler and an AU. 2300 words

Kisses Remembered, Kisses Forgotten

Every now and then Sansa remembers, even though she has tried so hard to leave the past behind. The Hound was rough and scary, but the kiss that he took left a lingering taste on her lips—it was as soft as snow, almost familiar, she’s caught herself missing the shy affection that came with the kiss, a wary touch so vulnerable it felt almost childish. She remembers the kiss that he took. The only thing she doesn’t remember is him taking it.

Every night feels longer and darker than the former ones. It isn’t until she jumps from Winterfell walls that she remembers how to feel warm again, but the road north is as cold as ice and covered in snow. “His lips felt warm”, she thinks as she runs towards her freedom. “The kiss that he took, it felt warm.”

There are times when she is almost certain that she gave it willingly.

—

“You look cold,” Jon says after staring at her in silence for a good half an hour. It would annoy her beyond reason, were it anyone else, anyone less trustworthy, anyone less… Jon, but coming from him it’s almost flattering. No one has ever cared for her so since she’d lost Father. Not once until this very moment has she felt safe since then.

“I’m okay,” she smiles. His unblinking eyes refuse to leave hers even for a second as if she’d vanish otherwise. Sansa leans towards him and strokes the inside of his palm with her thumb. It’s the most innocent of caresses, but it makes Jon stiffen and finally lower his head. She misses the stare instantly. “I’m okay, Jon.”

She tastes his name on her tongue. It feels rough—when was the last time she used it? —but sweeter than all the cake she’s ever had. She wants to swallow it, possess it, make it hers. “Jon,” she muses. “Jon. My Jon.”

If it’s something more primal than sisterly affection, she doesn’t recognise it in time. It may occur to her later, but it will be too late.

—

The first night that she spends at Castle Black is a sleepless one. The shadows are long when she paces aimlessly around the room, too exhausted to fall asleep, too cold to lie still. Knocking at the door alerts her at first—she’s not used to feeling safe yet—she whispers: “Who’s there?” so quietly as if she were hoping nobody would answer.

“It’s me,” Jon says.

She lets him in.

“Do you have everything that you need?” he asks, looking at her with a strange longing.

Had it been more fitting, she’d say: “I have you,” but in their current situation she’d stumble over the words for certain. Instead, she just invites him to stay—just sit next to her and not talk until the sun rises and the shadows go back under her bed. They repeat it every night after that, it seems to comfort both of them.

—

Jon’s eyes follow Sansa as he tries to find something—anything—that would remind him of a little girl she used to be. Her skirts dance when she rocks her hips, walking around Castle Black like she’d lived here all her life. He wants to avert his gaze but finds it impossible. She’s grown so tall, so slender—so beautiful.

“She’s your sister,” he thinks angrily, hiding his face in his hands. “You are not allowed to look at her like that.”

There were times, many lives ago, when they were only children. Sansa’s hair was more orange than auburn, Jon’s face—smooth, not a trace of beard or scars on it. They both called lord Eddard Stark their father. They both walked around holding Robb’s hand. They both watched Bran fall asleep while they were singing lullabies. Both, yes, but not—together.

When he tries to think about their lives before everything happened, before he went north and she went south, he keeps coming back to that one particular memory. And he’s not allowed to remember it. Not ever.

“She’s your sister,” he thinks, but as her lips move while she’s telling him another story, he watches. The redness of them almost provocative, they look like she’s been biting them for the past few hours. It’s a mesmerising set of colours: her lips with a raspberry tint, screaming to be tasted, licked, devoured; her eyes, deep blue almost exactly like the ones that used to follow him with disdain when he was nothing more than a bastard boy, but there’s no disdain in Sansa’s eyes, only hope. Her fair complexion contrasts with the dark streaks of her auburn hair, almost brown in the dimly lit room. Jon quashes the need to cup Sansa’s cheek and stroke it with his fingers, to check if her soft, unwavering beauty isn’t only a product of his hallucinations. He wouldn’t dare.

—

Sansa enters the dining room when there’s barely anyone left. A few wildlings share a horn of ale, laughing. There’s also Edd sitting in the furthest, darkest corner, and he looks really down—Edd always looks down, that’s an inherent part of his personality, “The defining part”, Tormund insists, but Sansa doesn’t care, because Edd, albeit rather shy, is kind and caring, and that’s more than she could expect from a stranger. The wildlings terrify her still, she doesn’t know their customs, they’re far too loud and bold for her taste, so she chooses to cross the room and take a sit in front of Edd.

They don’t talk, there’s no need for it. Sansa eats her soup, wondering whether Jon has already eaten, and Edd just keeps staring at the ceiling. Weirdly, his silent presence comforts Sansa more than any words could.

When everybody leaves, Sansa reaches for Edd’s half-empty horn and moves her hand up and down its uneven surface. It’s become apparent these past few days that sleep refuses to come easily for her at Castle Black, and when she finally drifts off after hours of rolling over from side to side, her dreams are filled with memories—but are they real? Are they hers?

She doesn’t think about the Hound that often. He’s been a big part of her life when she was a prisoner in King’s Landing, but her fascination with his tragic story faded and went by long ago. She cannot remember his face anymore, only the scars, she doesn’t even know if she’d be glad to see him again. The memories of him and the torments from the Lannisters became too inseparable in her mind, and that’s why she doesn’t want to think of him or imagine their meeting.

Not now. Not ever.

Then why is her brain so set on bringing back the memory of the kiss? She can feel a sweet breath on her chin every morning when she wakes up from her blurry dreams—why is it sweet? Wasn’t the Hound monumentally drunk that night?—she can taste it, again and again. Her first kiss, that one thing she knows for sure. She’d gotten a few pecks from Joffrey, yes, they should probably count as first, but somehow it doesn’t feel right.

She closes her eyes and clasps her hands around the horn.

“I thought you weren’t fond of our ale,” Jon says, suddenly very close—how did he get so close without Sansa hearing his steps? Did she black out again?

“I heard it helps to forget.”

“It does,” his voice sounds worried, “for a while. It doesn’t make your past go away.”

Sansa raises her head and their eyes lock immediately as if they’re a couple of lovers always on a mission to find each other.

“For a while,” she repeats. “Sounds better than never.”

The ale tastes much worse than she remembered it—it’s bitter and stale, and reeks of old, damp barrels—but her lips don’t leave the edge of the horn until it’s empty. Jon’s eyes move to her throat as she swallows and stay there even after she’s finished.

At first, she doesn’t think anything’s changed—the same emptiness fills her, the same desperation—but minutes pass as they sit opposite one another in silence, and her head finally starts to feel both lighter and heavier, her thoughts stir inside her brain, but never fully form. It’s a bliss. It’s a curse.

She sits in the middle of a meadow, it’s late summer. The winds got chilly but she’s got a blanket around her arms. She’s knitted it herself. She’s content. She’s happy. She’s Queen Naerys Targaryen.

“Are you alright? That’s quite a lot of ale you just inhaled,” Jon murmurs, gently touching her arm. Sansa looks up and smiles at him.

“I’ll be fine,” she answers. “I’ll be fine, Jon. You can go to sleep, you look tired.”

He laughs hoarsely and it makes Sansa’s belly tighten.

“Not until I see you safely tucked under your furs.”

He approaches her with his back straight and a sword at his side. Where did he get that sword, she thinks briefly but continues to look at his beaming face.

“I’ve come to rescue you, my Queen.”

“You can’t, my love,” she says, remembering to dress her face in the deepest, most regal shade of sadness. “We’re bound to our fate forever. You’ve made your vows, as I have made mine.”

He kneels before her. He’s brave, he’s gentle, he’s strong. He’s Prince Aemon the Dragonknight.

Sansa tries to stand up all too quickly, her head spins violently and she has to hold on to the table to avoid falling. She can barely feel her legs and her arms—how strong was that ale?—but the burning hotness of Jon’s hand on her lower back, oh, that she feels.

“Careful,” he says, pulling her closer and throwing her arm around his neck. “You’re still much too weak to start drinking so heavily. Don’t let go, alright? I’m going to walk you to your chambers now.”

And he proceeds to do just that.

When Sansa lies in bed feeling truly sleepy for the first time since she’s reached Castle Black on her dying horse, she suddenly remembers everything.

His face is just inches away. He’s wearing his hair pulled tightly in the back like a true adult, but he’s been playing with swords all day and a few strands have escaped the knot, hanging loosely around his face. She feels the urge to curl one of them around her finger but before she decides to make a move, he leans in and kisses her on the lips.

It surprises her—the lightness of it as much as the act itself. “It’s not wrong as long as I’m Queen Naerys and he’s Prince Aemon,” she tells herself as she involuntarily moves closer and exhales into his warm mouth. His fingers wander up and down her sleeve, curious but never inappropriate. The kiss doesn’t last long, a few heartbeats maybe, but before it’s finished, she can hear him whisper: “Sansa.”

And instantly he’s Jon again, and she’s Sansa. And they’ve done something unforgivable.

—

Jon’s almost asleep when he hears banging at his door. He jumps out of bed and rushes to open it only to find a breathless Sansa on the other side. Her eyes are wide, and she looks absolutely terrified. If she’s still a bit in her cups, it doesn’t show.

“What happened?” he asks.

She’s shivering. He wants to put his hand on her arm but she jumps away.

“You kissed me,” she hisses, her tone accusatory.

Jon blinks. Not that he hasn’t thought of it, because of course he has. He won’t admit it to anyone but though he tried extremely hard to see his long-lost sister in the beauty that has brought him back to life, he failed miserably. The truth is—she was never a sister to him, not even before they parted ways.

“I assure you,” he answers quietly, “I did not. I didn’t even enter your chambers, I asked lady Brienne to help.”

“Not tonight,” Sansa sighs and Jon realises she’s standing before him barefoot, dressed only in some old sleeping gown, but somehow she’s never looked more queenly with her demanding expression and fiery glare. “When we were children. A few months before we left Winterfell. We played… we played, and you…”

And he kissed her.

He kissed her and he never regretted it once until she came to him, crying, and ordered him to forget it ever happened. He didn’t want to, it was too precious a memory, but he obliged. For Sansa.

“I thought we weren’t speaking of it,” he whispers carefully.

She was really shook when she came to him that day, he never wanted to see Sansa cry, and to be the reason for her despair—it was too much for him to bear.

“We aren’t. I just… I forgot.”

“You forgot?” he asks, feeling hurt. It was his only kiss before Ygritte and he wasn’t even allowed to savour that memory. How could she have forgotten?

“I’m sorry,” she says. “What we did… it was wrong. I didn’t… I couldn’t… I think I repressed it. I made myself believe it happened with someone else.” She lowers her head and he’s afraid to spook her by asking who that person was, but he’s certain it will haunt him forever. Was it Joffrey? Gods, he hopes it wasn’t him. Jon couldn’t bear it. Sansa makes a strangled noise at the back of her throat. “But I remember now.”

He doesn’t know what more to say, but Sansa doesn’t seem to expect any kind of explanation. It happened. It shouldn’t have, but it did. And it changed things between them.

Sansa finally dares to look at him. Her lips are parted, ready as they were in that meadow years ago. He doesn’t take advantage of her vulnerability. When they win back Winterfell, when the war is over—she will come to him of her own volition.

And he will have that second kiss, gods be damned.

#jonsa secret santa #jonsa fanfiction #jonsasecretsanta2018 #jonsa #jon x sansa #got #a gift for moonchildslife #secret santa #gift

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somebodyhelpthenotdeadfreds · 5 years

Note

So. *cracks knuckes* I hear you have an au idea for Gary Green. Could you maybe talk about it a bit more? *crosses fingers* (im terrible im sorry)

*crackles knuckles* settle down around the fire, I’ll spin a half-formed tale that is slowly growing into a real fic. Inspiration comes from my lovely Discord server and @agentmarymargaretskitz who encourages all my cracky AUs.

So John, Ava, and Gary are out on a mission for the Legends. This is after the whole ‘good and evil’ talk (sidenote: forever bitter that that was not an ONSCREEN conversation but i digress) so the tension between the two is a real ‘will they/won’t they’ mixed with the sexual tension as always. Ava doesn’t want to be here, but somebody needs to be a responsible adult.

Eventually, after *insert bullshit magic yadadada* Gary turns a corner and BAM.

“Gary, what happened?” Ava yells after hearing him yelp.“I - think I ran into a wall,” Gary calls back, rubbing his forehead, touching over his temples because damn, that’s what the pain feels like but - there’s no wall. There’s nothing. It just feels like a migraine.

He goes home that night and the headache has spread to a neck and back ache, as well. Oh well, probably pulled a muscle, it’ll be fine.

For some reason, he eats five eggs (scrambled a little raw) for breakfast and the ache is dull, humming under his skin. His mouth actually waters as Mona passes by his work desk with food for the creatures, he’s - starving.

Nate doesn’t question his eating of an entire can of chicken liver pate, plain, at his desk.

The headache’s back, and it’s worse.

It’s soothed slightly by a rare steak he makes at home, but now it feels like he’s buzzing with energy as he lays drained on the couch.

“I - think I have an iron deficiency,” he murmurs to nobody, as per usual.

There’s a purr from the back of his brain: No.

It’s all he remembers before falling asleep.

For the next three days, he’s basically been eating nothing but protein yet he’s never felt more tired in his life. Nobody says a thing to him.“Sorry Green, got the last 8 O’Clock,” McNeil laughs at him, the treacherous Keriug already filling up his cup. Gary rolls his eyes, but he finds he can’t roll them back forward again as words escape his mouth“You touch my coffee again, I’ll rip your lungs out and feed them to you.”

His eyes suddenly roll forward again and he blinks a few times before giving a high, awkward laugh. at McNeil’s startled expression.

“You - you know me, not the same without morning coffee!” He takes whatever’s in the communal pot and sits back down at his desk, shaking his head and blinking a few more times. He gets through until lunch until he - suddenly blacks out.

He wakes up again in the afternoon, in the empty bathroom on the -3rd floor that nobody ever uses, covered in blood. That’s enough to make him panic, never mind the three empty pint containers of blood, a fourth in his hand and all over his mouth.

He stumbles out of the stall and washes his face in the sink, and when he looks up his reflection is smirking with coal-black eyes. He rubs his eyes and turns away, that purring voice pressing behind his temple.

Hello.

“Uh, hi. What - who are you?” he asks, because damn his ingrained politeness.A friend.“I - I don't believe that.”Gary. All I want to do is help you.“...could you - not, do that,” Gary muttered, cleaning the messy stall.It’s taken longer to gain any control over you than normal humans.“...sorry?”Pure souls are hard to break.“I’m - not - a virgin, if that’s what you mean.”Oh, I know. You think about it a lot.“Don’t - don’t read my thoughts!”Too late. You’re tired, let me - drive. Close your eyes, let me-“No! Shut up!” Gary says too loudly out loud as he walks into the break room. He grabs a danish and scurries back out of there to avoid confrontation.

And instead of that, he walks right into John Constantine, looking ruggedly handsome (like always dammit Gary shut up) while he’s got crumbs all over his lips and dark circles under his eyes.“Hey, Squire,” John smirks with a cigarette between his lips even if the building’s nonsmoking. Gary opens his mouth to respond back when that awful migraine, like claws sinking into his frontal lobe, returns and he winces.“Sorry, migraines,” he explains in a rush, heading back to his desk without another look his way.

It’s too much to deal with, he opens the door to Ava’s office, knowing he looks like a wreak and she’s - so annoyed to see him, it’s so obvious, and he tries to explain, Ava, Boss-Lady, I’m - I’m sick, I’m sick, something’s wrong - “something’s wr-”“Gary, just go home,” Ava says curtly, going back to her meeting with the Legends. He lets the door close and heads on the walk home alone, only his feet carry him somewhere else.

When he’s finally back in his apartment, eating through two packages of raw lamb, the voice comes back.They’re mean to you.“I - they’re my friends, I was - I was being annoying.”Friends shouldn’t do that.“You - what do you know about friends? Where - where are you from?”Hell.“Okay. Okay, that’s normal. Why - why are you inside of me? Oh, no, that came out wrong.”Reasons you can’t know, not yet.“...cool. Look - look, don’t bother possessing me. Look at me, I’m worthless. I trip over my own carpet four times a week sober.”I...can help.“I don’t want to hurt anyone.”People deserve it.“I don’t need to hurt them, though.”Humans are dumb, Gary. All of them. You, not so much.

It’s weird, to have this conversation with essentially your own brain as you speak out loud and then have words and voice that aren’t yours come out of your mouth.

Give me a chance to take control. I’ll give you what you want, then you can let me what what I want, the demon says. (Gary’s calling him Joe, because his vocal chords cannot replicate the name that swirled in his brain)

“...you get one day to convince me,” Gary states firmly, and no sooner do those words leave his lips then his vision goes black.

When he wakes up, it’s to everything he’s ever wanted in the world. The A/C’s never on the fritz, the neighbors are quiet, the shower always has hot water, the apartment’s bigger, and there’s - a blonde warlock in his bed that kisses him before Gary has to leave for work.

He has his OWN office at work, his own Keriug, he’s employee of the month and number one agent, all the bells and whistles and everyone is actually glad to see him and greet him, even Ava, even all the Legends. Everything is so goddamn perfect, especially a visit from said blonde warlock in the afternoon, in his lap in his own office, smiling that rare real smile.

And then John Constantine says to him, Gary Green: “I love you.”

Gary sits straight up from where’s he’s been out cold on his couch, gasping for air and he doesn’t know why, he just knows his heart is racing because -

What’s wrong? It’s what you want.“It’s not,” Gary whispers, lying but not lying, picking up his phone. “I don’t want lies. I don’t want to be lied to.”

It’s 6 o’clock. He’s been MIA an entire day and a half. There’s a single message, from Ava, at two in the afternoon: Gary, why aren’t you at work? You need to call if you can’t come in, remember.

That’s it. Nothing about his well-being, his whereabouts, about him.

Gary throws his phone into the opposite armchair and cries into a stupid throw pillow he got as a stupid giveaway at an office supply store. Not even a housewarming pillow.

There’s a hesitant warmth, just under the degree of burning, under the skin of his aching shoulder, spreading down his back.I want to help.

“How?”Whatever you need.

The knock at the door and the British accented “Gary, love, you awake?” sends Gary scrambling to shove bloody wrappers under the couch, quickly rinsing his face off before answering the door even as the voice hisses Noooot Constantine. “Hush,” Gary whispers harshly before throwing the door open.

John takes in Gary’s red-tinged eyes, dark circles beneath those, the general paleness and exhaustion. “Weren’t around today.”

“Sick,” Gary offers quickly. “Think - I have a bug. I’m fine, don’t - your’e not worried, duh, just - thanks, thank you for - checking in.”

There’s something - wrong, John can’t put a finger on it, but just nods in agreement. There’s too long a pause before the goodbyes, enough time for an embrace or a kiss, but neither offers either option. The door just closes between them afterwards.

I said humans were dumb, Gary.“Not - not all humans.”You aren’t. John Constantine, of all the humans, is the dumbest.“Hey, no, don’t say that stuff.”Yes, because you want to fuck-“Do - NO, that’s not why-”I can read your thoughts. Humans usually don’t break out of those fantasies like what I put you in. Why did you?“...it’s not real.”The warmth wraps around his arm, if that were possible. This is.Gary actually smiled. “...yeah, it is.”

Apparently, it’s easy to get used to possession, so long as your demon stays well-fed. Bloodlust can be avoided as long as there is actual blood to consume. Gary knows this butchery too well by the end of the first two weeks.

We should kill him, the demon tells Gary when McNeil steals the last K-cup again.“No, I said we wouldn’t do that....unless we had a reason.” Truth be told, he’s probably on borrowed time before he finally kills, he knows that. So far, the blood’s working to keep him satisfied.You hate him. That’s a reason. Or the man downstairs for being loud. We can rip his lungs out.“Not gonna happen.”

Ava’s in a very important business meeting with Mr. Heywood, and Gary’s leading the Legends to the waiting room outside her office to wait it out.

“So what’s this about?” Sara asks him.“Boss lady won’t let me say, you know that.”“Mick.”Oh god, Gary thinks before his vision tints into black tones.Before Mick can grab Gary, all he sees are Gary’s eyes visibly turning solid black for a brief moment before he has one hand in Mick’s collar and holding him up against the wall and snarling, “I said to WAIT.”

Then he shifts back and looks terrified for a second, dropping Mick down and offering sheepishly with a laugh, “I - sorry, no coffee. Did I mention I’ve been working out? Gotta run!”

He’s out of there, “What was that?”He was bothering you.“How did I do that?”I did it.

Then Gary’s flicking his hand to the right and McNeil’s chair spins out of control and he falls out of it onto the linoleum, precious coffee spilling everywhere.

Gary smiles despite himself. “We can’t do this a lot.”But we can do it?“...we can do it sometimes.”

For more, stay tuned for the upcoming fic!!!! Whew, I hope you like this NOVELLA that I answered you with!

#gary green #legends of tomorrow #constangreen #this is going to be a long fic #conxjob

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ghostwinchesters · 6 years

Text

lost in the in-between, or so it seems // i'm out of control

@sahwen asked: “That’s it. If you throw up on more time we’re going to the hospital.” with sam and cas? platonic or romantic, either is good!

anonymous asked: “If you didn’t just blink I would’ve sworn you were dead, that’s how sickly you’re looking. Go to bed, please!” w whoever ?? i rlly like that prompt sldkfjlskf

im allegedly still alive yo

it’s s8 trials!sam + samcasdean but like,, vv queer platonic which i fuckin love okay. he’s doing terrible both physically and mentally and dean and cas are desperately trying to take care of him and obviously there’s some vomiting so like,,,,, , just a warning my dudes xoxo

ao3

Sam is sitting huddled at one of the library tables, chilled despite the blanket wrapped around his shoulders and the burning heat of his feverish body. He’s clutching a bloody tissue in one hand in case he needs to cough up his lungs again, but the other hand is methodically flipping pages and scrolling through his laptop. Maybe he should sleep.

Maybe he should die.

Dean is sitting in the war room, doing G-d only knows what on his laptop, but he keeps glancing at Sam every few minutes—if not every few seconds— to make sure he’s okay. Or at the very least not collapsing. He’s probably also hoping that Sam will eat a little more than one g-ddamn bite of the grilled cheese sandwich he’d brought him two hours ago for dinner. And Sam wants to, for Dean if not for himself, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The smell and the sight itself makes his stomach turn a little, and he can’t.

Sam sees Castiel come into the war room and talk quietly to Dean out of the corner of his eye, and that probably means they’re both gonna come in here and try to take care of him. It’s sweet, but Sam doesn’t even deserve it.

And they’re both so worried about him. It makes him feel terrible, even though the rational part of his brain is telling him that it’s illogical. That they’re two grown people who can decide who or what they want to worry about. That, possibly, he even deserves the worry. The last one is the hardest to believe, and maybe it’s really not coming from the rational part of his brain.

Castiel and Dean are walking into the library, which means Sam was right.

“Yo, Sam, you gotta eat something, man.” Dean is staring at him, his jaw obviously clenched, trying to keep himself from going into full on Big Brother mode.

“If you didn’t just blink, I would’ve sworn you were dead, Samuel.” Castiel touches his shoulder gingerly, almost like he’s scared Sam is just gonna… shatter and turn to dust. “That’s how sickly you’re looking. Go to bed, please!”

Sam knows how awful he looks. He’s refused to look in a mirror in over a week and every time he accidentally catches a glance he just wants to shrink into himself because he knows and it almost makes him feel ashamed because he can barely do the basics like brush his hair and wash his face. Shame and guilt are apparently his main emotions currently.

“I’m fi—” He starts coughing again and instead of letting them see the kleenex with the blood splotches on it and making them more worried, he coughs into his elbow, which is a mistake because he now has splatters of red on his pink flannel.

Dean’s whole face crashes with concern but he laughs shakily. “Oh, yeah, Sammy. Spitting blood out onto your clothes is totally fine.” Sam attempts a weak smile, and that breaks Dean completely because he’s kneeling next to Sam’s chair and holding his hand a little too tightly. “Sam, what the hell, just let us take care of you for once. Please.”

“You don’t have to, Dee. It’s okay.”

“Sammy…” Dean always complains about Sam’s puppy dog eyes, but Dean. G-d, Dean puts everything into his pleading when he deems it’s necessary.

Sam nods hesitantly, and Cas, who’s been standing there with his hand on Sam’s shoulder this whole time, helps him stand up. “You need sleep, but as Dean said, you should eat something first. Does… anything sound appealing?”

“Uh… Just not something greasy? I don’t… Actually whatever, I’ll just eat a little of whatever you give me.”

“Nuh-uh, Sammy. You’re telling us what you want, and you’re not gonna feel bad about it.” Dean is glaring at him, but it’s a… kind, concerned glare.

“Uhm… Not anything super greasy because it makes me feel kinda nauseous.” Sam notices Dean glance at the grilled cheese sandwich on the table and wince. “Maybe uhh… some fruits? Or something? Really it’s fi—” This time his “fine” gets interrupted by Cas kissing his cheek quickly instead of another coughing fit, which is a relief, really.

They help him to their room, the biggest bedroom in the bunker, where they have two beds pushed together so it’s big enough for the three of them. Dean follows Castiel out because “he wants to do something for Sam” despite Castiel’s protests.

Sam smiles and shakes his head slightly as they argue down the hall and let’s himself sink into the pillow. It’s soft and nice, and Sam is so tired, but he can’t sleep because 1) Dean and Cas want him to eat and 2) it’s hard for him to sleep alone right now. He can’t really do it when he’s feeling this shitty.

He glances down at his pink flannel and feels a flash of disappointment, which just adds to the feeling of despair and exhaustion, because it’s one of his favorite shirts and now it has blood on the sleeve.

“Cas fuckin’ kicked me out of the kitchen. Said I’d—” Sam looks up as Dean airquotes “—make it take longer.” He sits down on the bed next to Sam shaking his head. “I’m good at slicing fruits and shit. Hell, I make food for you all the time! I’m perfectly capable!”

Sam is trying to hide a grin, and Dean rolls his eyes at him. “Hey, it’s not funny!” He knows it’s more about Dean just wanting to be helpful than the actual cooking thing but it’s still amusing.

“It kinda is actually.”

Dean makes a face before his eyes slide down to Sam’s flannel. “You love that shirt…” He meets Sam’s gaze again. “I can get the blood out if you want…?” His eyes look hopeful and expectant and Sam nods.

“You’d do that?”

“Anything for my little brother.”

Sam winces as he sits up, and Dean gently unbuttons the front and gets it off Sam. “You maybe want a clean hoodie and sweats? Sleeping in jeans is bullshit.”

Sam sighs in exasperation but he appreciates it. “I… yeah, sure.”

Dean helps him tug the white shirt he was wearing under the flannel off and finds him a freshly washed sweater before getting him to his feet and trying to help him change out of his jeans even though Sam just shakes his head because he’s making it more complicated. Sam crashes back onto the bed, a little harder than he intended because his tiredness just made him drop. “Dude, be careful, dammit.” Dean pulls the blanket over Sam’s shoulder and presses his lips against his hair. “I’ll be back in a sec, and I swear I’m getting that blood out of your flannel. I’ve gotten blood out of so many clothes, I’m practically an expert.” He flashes him a grin and leaves with the shirt.

Castiel comes back a little after Dean leaves with a bowl of fruit salad on top of a tray. “Where’s Dean?”

“Washing my shirt since you shoved him out of the kitchen.”

Cas shakes his head with a dramatic eyeroll and sits down, putting the tray on Sam’s lap after he sits up against the headboard. “I hope this tastes good and won’t make you feel sick?”

“Thank you, Cas.”

“Of course.”

Sam’s too tired and wrecked to eat it all but he manages to swallow down more than half of it but it’s better than usual. He feels even more tired after Cas leaves to put the dishes away, turning off one of the bedside lights so it’s dimmer, but it’s a more content exhaustion now except for the uncomfortable churning in his stomach after actually eating again.

“Hey,” Dean whispers as he walks into the room and Sam squints his eyes open from where he was trying to fall asleep alone. “I got your flannel all cleaned up and it’s drying now.” Sam smiles softly in thanks. Dean strips down to his boxers and slips under the blankets.

“Dude, Dean, you don’t have to sleep yet. It’s barely nine.”

Dean grins his lopsided grin and curls up against Sam, his chest radiating welcome heat again Sam’s back through his sweater. “You sleep better with people and besides, I’m getting old and maybe I need to sleep more.” Sam can feel his lips twist into a smile against his neck and he shakes his head.

“Okay, old man.”

When Castiel comes to bed Sam pulls him as close as he can, feeling even colder than usual.

“G-d, you’re a fucking furnace, Sammy,” Dean whines but he doesn’t move away. “Like, more than usual. You okay, man?”

“I’m fine. My stomach feels a little weird but it’s okay.”

“Are you sure, Sam?” Castiel shifts against him and Sam nods.

“Yeah, really, I’m okay.”

Cas makes a noise like he’s not sure he believes him but neither of them say anything and Sam falls asleep for the first time in almost forty hours.

He wakes up to feeling straight up nauseous and he awkwardly clambers to his knees, almost elbowing Dean in the face and definitely kneeing Cas in the stomach.

“Sam-Sammy?” Dean mumbles, confused and half asleep. Castiel who wasn’t really asleep as so much as lying there with his eyes closed sits up and grabs Sam’s arm.

“Bathroom, G-d, fuck, I need to get to the bathroom.” He stumbles to his feet with Castiel still holding onto his arm and at this point Dean’s protective instinct has overridden his lack of consciousness and he’s off the bed.

“Sammy, what’s wrong?”

“I feel really sick, man, I don’t know.” Another wave of nausea hits him and he has to bite down on his tongue to keep from vomiting right here and now in the hallway. He pulls away from Castiel, somehow thinking that’ll help him get through the door to the bathroom quicker. Cas catches him as he drops to his knees in front of the toilet, barely pulling his hair away from his face before Sam throws up the little food he forced himself to swallow down.

Dean’s next to Sam and pushing away a few extra strands of hair from his sweaty forehead when he stops dry heaving. He groans and presses his forehead against the toilet seat. He feels exhausted, which is a normal feeling but it’s worse all of a sudden.

“Do you want some water?” Cas doesn’t even wait for a reply before leaving the bathroom and Sam mumbles a raspy thank you after him.

Dean rubs his back slowly, trying to help him relax. “Shh, it’s okay, Sammy. Just take some deep breaths.”

“G-d, Dean, I feel so sick.” Sam knows he sounds whiney but he can’t actually bring himself to care enough to stop.

“I know and I’m sorry,” Dean says quietly, still rythmically running his hand over Sam’s shoulder. “You’ll feel better here in a little bit, okay? You’ll be fine.”

Castiel comes back with the water and Sam gulps it down quicker than he should, his throat aching. He’s not sure whether it hurts more before, during, or after and for some reason he laughs; it’s a little high pitched and delirious. “It’s gonna come up again in a second.”

Dean gives him a concerned smile. “Jesus, okay.”

It takes closer to thirty seconds, but he vomits again, and by now both Castiel and Dean are on the tile, trying to soothe him by rubbing his back and keeping his hair out of his face. A hand presses against his hot forehead and he thinks it’s Castiel. “That’s it. If you throw up one more time, we’re going to the hospital.

“No, Cas, please. No—” He coughs. “Please don’t take me to the hospital. Please. They can’t do anything anyway.”

“Okay, shh, it’s okay. We won’t go then.” Castiel runs his fingers through Sam’s greasy hair gently. “It’s okay.”

Sam gives him a weak smile but it breaks into a another painful round of spitting absolutely nothing into the toilet bowl. “Could you… Could you get more water maybe?” He looks up at Cas pleadingly.

He ends up throwing that up too, but he’s slowly starting to feel a little less absolutely and completely horrible. Dean’s tugging on his shoulders and pulling him back against him and Sam just lets himself collapse against his chest. This time when he opens his mouth, it’s a tired fucking yawn.

“Hey, if you’re feeling okay enough to get up, you need to get to bed, big guy,” Dean whispers softly and Sam nods a little. Castiel grips his hand and they both help him back to their room after he washes his face by the sink.

Sam presses his face against Dean’s neck and he can feel the comforting thereness of Castiel against his back and he lets out a sigh of what might actually be contentedness.

lol validation welcome // come talk to me [peace sign]

#sam winchester #spnlittlebro #sam love club #sam whump #wincestiel #sam fic #jo writes #tfw #samcasdean #trials!sam #sick!sam #sam and mental health #s8 #what's up motherfuckers i wrote smth again #shout out to yngve bc he loves the Pink Shirt™#and huge shout out to judah for being super supportive thru this absolute writing drought

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thekrazykeke · 6 years

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I love this man. To be honest, I’ma hoe for all of them men in Black Panther, so it’s whatever. Every single one of them can get it, and I don’t even know who I want to take me first, Erik or T’Challa? ....Hm, both. Both is good. This chapter is potentially, likely, triggering for some people. Please read this with caution and know that my inbox and IM is always open, for anyone, at any time.

You’re not bothering me. Never think you are bothering me.

Continued from here, boo.

The minute the apartment door swung open, your eyes snap to Nadia’s face, and you see it, the bruise the size of a fist swelling up her right eye.

“Where is he?”

“Let’s talk inside.” Nadia’s hand on yours is firm as she tugged you in, using her hair to shield the bruise from view; the motion too familiar, practiced. The organ in your chest throbbed with pain and you think you’re about to have a panic attack or something.

"Where is that nigga, is he here?” Your hands clench then unclench, and you can’t focus on one thing, eyes darting around the room, categorizing how the living room is trashed; broken glass shards sprinkled everywhere, TV broken, a hole or two punched in the walls.

It’s a mess.

“Calm down, Y/N.” Nadia says, voice entirely too calm, nonchalant.

“Is. That. Nigga. Here?” You enunciate each word forcefully, eyes widened and crazed, angry.

“He not here. Simmer down already, shit.” Exhausted already by the conversation, she flopped down on the couch. “I called you because I needed your advice.”

“Waterboard that no good ass nigga.” You immediately suggest, taking a seat beside her.

“What, no. That’s,” she laughs, “That’s crazy. Y/N, stop it. Be serious.”

You aren’t laughing. “I’m deadass. I know somebody who know somebody. They’ll snatch that bitch nigga up off the street, rough his punk ass up, and--”

Nadia couldn’t listen anymore. “I’m the one who started it by spitting in his face!”

“...The fuck. Why would you do that?” Almost always joking, Nadia wasn’t somebody who deliberately provoked people, or at least, she didn’t start something she couldn’t slick-talk her way out of. “Spitting on people is nasty, yo.”

“He dared me to do it. And I was just...” Sighing explosively, she ran her fingers through her hair. “...I found a pregnancy test in the bathroom trash, and I know it ain’t yours. You barely here, for one, and I can’t see you or Erik being that careless.”

And you had an IUD, but still. Making a motion for her to continue, "So the muthafucka got his side bitch pregnant, and you got pissed.”

For the next half hour, you listen to her with a sympathetic ear as she told you that for a long time, things had been rocky between Travis and herself. He had not intentions of settling down -- with her, though he loved to lead her on with a carrot-stick maneuver and saying he might, he might, he might, while fucking around on her. He knew about the hookup she’d had with Erik and all the other times, with other people, while they’d been on a break. According to Nadia, the guy even made fun of her naivety in thinking he’d marry ‘a woman whose legs were always wide open’. The hypocritical dipshit.

That’s why she spat on him.

Couldn’t really blame her for that, not really.

“The girl he got pregnant, she’s only twenty one, Y/N. Twenty one...”, Shaking her head, Nadia laughed.

“Hey, hey, hey.” As tears stung her eyelashes and her voice wobbled, you reached out, pulling her towards you for a half hug. “It’s okay. Fuck that dude, aigh’t? I know people say it all the time, but you are going to find someone and be happy.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I do. You are a phenomenal woman and someone is going to recognize you for your worth. Don’t let some idiot take that away from you. You hear me?” Hot tears warmed your shirt and you rocked her gently. “It’s okay. It’s okay, I promise.”

“I ain’t got nobody no more...”

“It’s okay...”

Honestly, after that whole experience, you were drained. The thought of going out and being sociable, it made the hairs on the nape of your neck stand on end. Nadia wasn’t hearing that though.

“B i t c h! This is an important milestone in your relationship. Meeting a family member?” Shaking her head, an ice pack over the swollen area, she gave you a thumbs up and painfully sincere smile, “Girl, if I was you, I wouldn’t have even brought my thick ass over here to deal with my bullshit.”

“It’s not bullshit, Nadia.” You interjected, for the fiftieth time. “You my friend and you needed me. Case closed.”

“Whatever. I’m good. I’m gonna sit here and try and figure out who I can pay off to try and fix these damages before the landlord see this shit.” Tilting her head back, she sank more comfortably into the couch. “Forreal, you should go. See what’s good wit Erik and this mystery family member, actually find out what Erik does for a living. I’m betting it’s something physical. His arms hella strong.”

“Bitch.” You elbow her gently.

“What? I’ma single pringle now, so I can look,” Nadia said defensively. “It’s not like he would notice me anyway. The nigga got eyes for you only. It’s cute as fuck, keeping it one hunned.” Although you didn’t want to leave Nadia alone, she took your cellphone and texted Erik to come get you.

When he came to pick you up, she all but shoved you out the door.

“You still gon do this wit me, right? Meeting my cuz?” Erik could tell what was up immediately. “I can reschedule, it ain’t nothing.”

And he would, you realized, he cared for your personal comfort more than what his cousin would think. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, hands finding the nape of his neck, you tilt your head up and he took the hint, kissing you. “You don’t have to reschedule. So, where is this dinner taking place?”

Turns out that it’s the Queen’s Cove, the most expensive hotel in the area. Some of the most important political figures and celebrities stayed there. Fuck, even Obama and Michelle had spent two nights there! You were internally spazzing out, mind going one hundred miles an hour, wondering exactly who Erik’s cousin was, who Erik was--

‘I’ll find out tonight. To-night. OMG. That’s not enough time! Holy fucking shit! Oh. mah. Gawd. Chill, Y/N. Just. chill.’

Calling up every ounce of zen in your body that you had, you manage to smile at Erik who’s eyeing you warily, probably catching the goofy, weird expressions you’d made while wigging out.

"Clothes, we both need new clothes.” You say decisively.

“I don’t really--”

“Nigga, bring ya ass on!”

“Aigh’t already, damn!”

After an exhausting rest of the afternoon spent looking for the perfect outfit, Erik dropped you off at your favorite salon to get your hair and nails done. It was a last minute walk in appointment and Chantay wasn’t the happiest seeing you -- until she saw the amount of money you were paying her. While she worked her magic, you and Breanna texted back and forth, with y’all going through potential jobs and reasons for all this mystery and secrecy that Erik was doing.

Bre also promised that she would send Dre to put Travis in check asap. Then the topic changed once again when she sent you the link to an article about the Wakandan king, T’Challa.

Apparently he was slated for a press conference tomorrow morning?

‘She so dumb, but I love her silly ass.’ Smiling faintly, you replied that yes, the king was pretty fione, but he was a little too lean for your tastes. You ain’t want a man that didn’t know how to handle all your thickness. You cracked up laughing when she sent you a poop emoji, murmuring an apology when Chantay told you to keep still.

Once that appointment is concluded, the two of y’all took note of the limo waiting outside.

The. Limo.

GSLKDHFSKFLJSD!!!

“Y/N?” Neither of y’all utter a word. So he tries again, “Y/N Y/L/N? Is that you, ma’am?” The driver asked, professional and relaxed, unruffled, by the fact that he’s being gaped at.

“That’s me.” You reply weakly. He opened the door for you.

“I got the license plate number in case you go missing.” Chantay whispered out the corner of her mouth. Placing a hand over your heart, you throw up a peace sign and she waved, removing a cigarette from behind her ear and lit it.

Question after question flew through your brain. You wanted to touch everything but at the same time, it was important to show some class. He drops you off at the apartment where you quickly shower, moisturize, and change (Nadia is gone but where you don’t know and have no time to find out), and when you come back out, the few people lingering around eye you with appreciation, curiousity and lust.

The drive to the Queen’s Cove is completely silent but you don’t care. This feels like some straight up black Cinderella-out-the-hood type stuff.

The next time the car pulls to a stop and the door opens, it’s Erik who’s reaching a hand out to you. Without hesitation, you take his hand and he helps you out of the limo, appraising you with hungry eyes. Although your inner mantra is that you’re in public and this is indecent, especially for a place this fancy, you give him a once over too.

“Damn baby, you lookin’ like a whole snack.”

Cracking a smile, because regardless, Erik gon be Erik, you let him kiss the corner of your mouth, so close to your lips. “Mmhm, you look handsome too, baby. Let’s go meet your cousin.”

“You right, you right.” There’s a distracted air about him and he can’t stop looking at you.

Admittedly, that swells your ego. That floaty feeling carries you through what might have been an epic freak out and meltdown because again, there were celebrities and politicians milling about, everything looked expensive.

Fuck, even the air smelled rich!

The maitre d’ led y’all to a private booth/sitting area in the far back, not easily noticed by other people. And there, already seated... Is the King of Wakanda. T’Challa Udaku.

“Cousin! There’s bobotie on the menu!” Eyebrows raising, you glanced at Erik pointedly, but he merely pulled out the chair for you. The whole ass king, T’Challa, put down the menu only to smile at you brightly, “Oh! I am so rude. Hello. You are Erik’s woman, yes?”

“I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Your Highness.” You said primly, about to raise up and possibly mangle an attempt at a curtsey, but Erik’s hand on the nape of your neck keeps you seated, the gesture effortlessly casual, but intimate.

“Please, there are no need for titles. Did you not tell her that, cousin?” Erik sat down too. “...Oh, Bast, he did not tell you that.” T’Challa, the king of an African nation, frowned. “N’Jadaka...”

“N-who?” Your brows furrowed.

T’Challa sighed and Erik eyeballed him, expression annoyed. “Bruh, don’t come at me like that! What with yo bitch ass Council putting that gag order on a nigga, what could I tell her but the kiddy shit?”

“Um...” You try to speak up.

“The conference is tomorrow, cousin. You could have informed her at least two weeks in advance.”

“You think I’m slow or some shit? Like I can’t read, muthafucka? Of course I know it’s tomorrow! I brought her down her to meet yo cornball ass, but we can bounce if you gon be on some other--”

THUMP!

Slamming your fist into the table, ignoring the throbbing pain searing through the appendage, you glared at them both. “If both y’all grown ass men don’t start actin’ like y’all mofos got some sense and recognize we in public, right now...” You say through gritted teeth.

“Sorry, baby.” Erik mumbled.

“My apologies, Y/N.”

After that, the tension faded away. The dinner felt relaxed and normal, like you were eating out with ya man and another brother or something. During that dinner though, Erik explained that he was a prince, third in line for the throne to Wakanda. The two of them made some questionable quips and remarks that bordered on being too dark, and you were most certainly going to be talking to Erik about that later.

Erik, that wasn’t even his real name.

It’s N’Jadaka Udaku.

There’s something beautiful about the way the vowels rolled off your tongue and N’Jadaka, likes when you use it. Oh, yeah, he definitely liked the way you say his name, if his hand on your thigh underneath the table is any indication, the slow circles he’s rubbing into the satin smooth brown skin, teasing you.

“Hi! I’m Mitchell and this is Cassandra, and we--”

Oh. No.

It feels like the bottom of your stomach has fallen out. You are half afraid to even look up and see if they’re as close as you fear, but when you flick your eyes to the right, yes. Yes they are, right here.

Waiters.

Ha!

Right now, they’re pestering T’Challa, asking if he wants a refill of his drink, and you glance at ya man, trying to non-verbally signal to him that we had to get the fuck outta dodge before they noticed us. And either he was just horny or he got the message, probably the former, but he was about to get up when Cassandra turned and finally noticed us.

Shit!

“Y/N! Hi! Oh, goodness. This is such a coincidence, running into you and your beau again. I told Mitchell that I saw you at my other job and he didn’t believe me at all.”

Somehow, you manage to smile, “Such a...small world.”

There’s a pregnant pause. “Erik! Hi, hello!” Again, she offered her hand for a shake.

He ignored her outstretched hand. “This is a private dinner. Family only.”

Mitchell snorted, his handsome features twisting into a sneer. “Family? Y/N? No way. I grew up with the girl, that’s straight ghetto--”

Cassandra elbowed her hubby abruptly. “Honey.”

“Nah, let him finish his sentence.” Erik took a swallow of wine, finishing off the glass. “‘Straight ghetto’, what?”

“I was going to say that Y/N and her family are an...unscrupulous bunch.” Lying through his teeth, Mitchell plastered a smile onto his lips, though his eyes are bitter, cruel. Jealous. “It’s very unfit for her to be sitting next to, and dining with, royalty.”

T’Challa raised a finger, “Forgive me for sounding uncultured in this. English is not my first language and I have not been to America often,” It’s clear, if only to you and Erik, that he’s downplaying his own intellect, he’d talked circles around you about a lot of topics and explained things without making you feel stupid. “But I believe you are insulting not only myself, and by extension, all of Wakanda, you are also insulting my own cousin, a prince, and his choice of female companion? Y/N is quite a lovely and intelligent, funny, woman, after all.”

“I agree! I so agree!” Cassandra nodded her head vigorously. “Y/N and I, we were friends once upon a time ago in college.”

Unable to stand all this double talking and hypocrisy, your mouth opened, “Bitch, when?” You sounded so done at the moment. “Is it after you caught a case of jungle fever and decided that you were finished fucking Tim, who went on to become a famous country singer by the way, and chose this light bright nigga to be your Negro husband? I bet you were very disappointed that the rumor of all black men having big dicks isn’t true.”

Cassandra paled, standing there, gaping at you. Mitchell, however, absolutely exploded. “You ghetto ass dirty hoodrat bi--”

One right hook and an uppercut and Mitchell hit the floor with a pained grunt. Erik put his foot on his chest, keeping him in place. “I’m from Oakland, California, straight up out the hood, my nigga. Erik Stevens, ask about me.” Grinding his heel into his chest for a few more seconds, he stepped over him, “Let’s get the fuck up outta here.”

“Yoink.” You grab the bottle of wine, patting Cassandra’s shoulder ‘comfortingly’. “I’ll just take this for the road. Since we such good friends, you got me, right? Right. I’ll holla at you on Facebook, boo boo.” With a wave of your fingers, you accept Erik’s hand, smiling big and pretty, especially when he adjusted his grip so that his arm is around your waist, headed for the exit.

“Bill me for any damages, yes?” Smiling a camera ready smile, T’Challa dipped his head in farewell to Cassandra, accidentally stepping on Mitchell’s hand and followed after his wayward cousin and date.

Once y’all are outside, embarrassment overtakes you and you’re about to apologize to T’Challa but he only wagged a finger and smiled. “It was very good fun tonight. I almost thought you were too timid for my cousin but you have such a vibrant personality, Y/N.”

You look at the ground then away from him, unable to keep eye contact at the sincerity in his tone. “Careful, nigga, or you and me gon go round three for you flirting with my girl.” Erik joked, tilting your chin up a little to kiss your forehead.

T’Challa shook his head and chuckled, “Take care of each other and stay out of trouble, eh.”

Then y’all go y’all’s separate ways. Erik and you get in the limo, while a fierce, bald lady opens the door to a sleek sports car, and T’Challa gets in that. Both vehicles take off in opposite directions. You reach for Erik’s hand and he holds your hand in his lap, his thumb tracing circles around the pulse point, a pensive expression on his face. You want to know what’s up but you also are afraid to know what’s bothering him, secretly figuring that it’s you and the drama that follows you around like a bad smell.

When the limo drops y’all off at his crib, he immediately strips of the outfit, carelessly dropping the items of clothing onto the floor and elsewhere, motions agitated. You follow after him silently, carefully following his lead. The two of you shower together but he doesn’t touch you, or make any lewd comments. He gives you some clothes to sleep in and you think that y’all aren’t going to talk about the elephant in the room when he turns his back to you, and reluctantly, you turn so that you’re facing away from him too.

Only twenty minutes of this and you think you’re going crazy.

You’re about to get the fuck outta dodge when he speaks, “I need...I need to tell you somethin’.” Heart sinking in your chest, you try to turn around but he holds you in place, apparently not wanting you to look at him while he tells you...whatever he needs to tell you.

Pretty sure you were prepared for anything than what he told you about his life before he and you started sleeping together and became a couple. The uncensored version of who Erik Steven is...or rather, who he had been.

Killmonger.

All of it.

You’d like to think you were a tough as nails type of bitch, but that story had you crying hard as shit. Whether for N’Jobu, N’Jadaka, or T’Challa and his father. Or Erik’s victims...it’s a mystery.

You just hurt.

“I couldn’t...couldn’t keep hiding what I done. I mean, I could, but tonight, if anything, proved that all that shit tends to come out one way or the other. And I wanted you to hear it from me, not nobody else.” He swallowed. “I ain’t gon be mad or, or, stop you if you choose to leave me. I understand.”

The next time you attempted to turn around, he didn’t stop you. Legs on either side of his chest, hands resting on his abdomen, you stared down at him with red and puffy eyes. “If I got up right now to leave, would you choke me out, smack me, or shoot me in the head?”

He cleared his throat, blinking rapidly, eyes suspiciously bright, “No.”

“Do you have any plans to cheat on me?”

“Fuck no.”

“Couples fight, they argue. That shit is normal. I might get mad and say some hurtful things, or you might be the one to do all that. We might yell at each other. That is normal. What I won’t accept is being made into Boo-Boo the Fool when you get mad and feel you have to prove what a man you are, then cheat on me with another bitch.

I won’t be your punching bag or doormat. I am your woman, more than that, I’m somebody daughter, they sister.

I’ve got too much respect for myself to let any of that foolishness go on. I will drop yo ass wit the quickness and cross the street to avoid speaking to you for years, if necessary.” Pausing, you take a breath, letting your words sink in.

“Do you understand?”

Erik’s cautiously rests his hands on your hips. “I understand that, and I respect it. But I’m asking you to please, don’t throw that shit I told you in my face if you get mad. Ion care bout nun else but don’t do me dirty like that, Y/N. I’m tryin’ my best, baby girl.”

Baby girl. Oooh fuck, that nickname did things to you. You needed to get your hormones under control, bih, this is a serious moment! “’Kay.” You say, voice quiet, and you bite your bottom lip.

He seemed to sense the turn in your attitude because he soon leaned up and kissed you open mouthed and nasty, squeezing your ass cheeks, the boy shorts you wore offering little to no protection from Erik’s groping hands, “You gon let me fuck you now, ain’tchu, baby girl?”

Oh, this bastard. Moaning yessssss, you don’t resist when he yanks off the shirt you wore, accidentally tearing it a little before flinging it away, then yanked off the booty shorts, shoving his boxers down just enough to free his cock, teasing your wet pussy folds before pushing in alllll the way inside you.

“You mines, you my baby girl, you gon stay wit me.” The words are quietly delivered every time he fucks up into you, and your eyes screw shut, breaths coming quick. “Say it.” A particularly hard roll of his hips punches the breath out of you, “I can stay like this all night.”

And you know he can, he would, tease you, the both of you, until he gets what he wants. “I’m yours, your baby g-girl,” Erik sucked at your throat, intent on leaving a hickie. “I’m not gon leave you.”

It’s like your words flipped a switch or something because he’s switching positions so that you’re beneath him and he’s fucking you nice and slow. Then again, this doesn’t really feel like fucking. It’s not rough or quick, with spankings or some choking. Whatever it is, it’s intense, and the way he’s looking at you, the way he kisses your shoulder, murmuring how good your pussy feels, and other sweet, perverse things, eventually sends you over the edge. You don’t deny it when he mutters, “You my baby girl...” Right in your ear just before he pushes inside you as far as he can go, filling you with his cum.

After all, it’s not like he’s wrong; you are his.

#mcu #erik killmonger #mcu imagine #erik killmonger imagine #black reader #black panther #marvel #black panther imagine #marvel imagine #erik killmonger x reader #thekrazykeke

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survivor-halsingland · 3 years

Text

Ep. 1: "There's 100% going to be a Canada alliance." - Amy

Amy

Initial reaction of cast reveal: I’m toast But for real this can go a couple of ways for me, none of which have me seeing myself make merge lol. I’m either going to be a very early boot here or be nice and active enough to solidify a place for a while. Lots of familiar and unfamiliar faces. Hopefully the people familiar with me won’t want to immediately vote me out. I have already mentioned to Derrick that I played with DeNara before, so hopefully we can bond over that and it not be used against me. I have explicitly asked Jared to not exclusively lie to me this go haha but we both said we were more playing for the other half of our duos and just agreed to do it. I was excited to see Blue on my tribe and I also know Leanne, and have already had a good chat with Klied - but his name does have “lie” in it 👀. Honestly I want to do a quick portion of divide and conquer, I planned on chilling in a pool tomorrow and going to drag bingo with Ava. But no one has solidly chosen anything so they are really about to force me to be tribe leader and sort this out. Things I look forward to: vibes, chatting with cool people, meeting people, twists, and drama Things I will not be doing: sitting on hours and hours of video calls. Not my style. But I know several people in this game love it. Let the good times roll y’all

Kenneth

HERE WE GO AGAIN! i'm fresh off of ingary, but jay has magic powers and pulled me in to another season of a potential clown fiesta <3 but seriously, this already seems a lot more enticing and spicy because of the theme in itself and how the challenges and idol hunt are structured so i am very excited to play :) i learned a lot about my last game and i will improve on it (hopefully) by taking more risks and plays that WILL be appreciated by the jury, and not be overly attached to people, which would result to tunnel vision. the first challenges are already pretty great, and i cannot wait to play this game. TO WIN! hehe >:)destiny i’m super confused about a lot of stuff tbh but everyone on my tribe is so nice and welcoming and i’m sure i’ll get the hang of it all soon :) i’m excited to be playing and just hoping i don’t screw things up for my tribe :/

AmyThis tribe is exhausting. Challenges where I need to send a photo back quickly really hate me. My phone took like a minute to actually send the photo, but Waldo went well. Except I started in the bottom right looking with vertical transects and Waldo was hiding in the bottom left 🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️🤦‍♀️ Woulda been 30 seconds had I started over there. But I’m already expecting tribal so I’m just hoping I wasn’t the worst portion of our challenges haha!

Leanne

Not very much to share so far. Some people on this tribe are much bigger talkers than others, Jared, Derrick, Klied, and Amy. It’s been harder to get Convo from Jesse and Blue, and I’ve barely heard from Josh or Aubree. I wonder if other people have had the same experience. Haven’t dared try game talk with anyone yet. Hoping I’m not behind, but it’s only day 2 right? Maybe I’ll try to put some feelers out with Amy. Maybe I’ll tell her about some things in the idol hunt and see if she’ll give me anything in return, maybe try to get a partnership going. I’m glad she’s on my tribe, but also a little bit scared because I’ve seen exactly how good she is. Aside from that, the person I feel best about right now is Derrick. We’ve had some good chats and seem to connect well. Hope he feels the same way. And Moth. I’m especially nervous about them. When we played before we didn’t exactly hit it off, but I think we’re both… trying. I hope we can have a new start this time, a new story. And from what I know of them they are a very loyal allies so, here’s hoping. Also happy to see Sarah here, and my yinzer JG. Maybe he and my dad can bond over that? And that’s all I’ve got so far. God I hope I did enough in the challenge today. *whines* I don’t wanna go to tribal first!

Jared

Don't mind me making a confessional before the game even starts, call me a game changer. https://youtu.be/JFOxzamkcH8

Jared

Not one, but two, confessionals before the game even begins. Sorry not sorry! https://youtu.be/SETx-0LoI9E

Shawn

Well, things are going good so far! I think anyway. Although I like everyone on my team, I do have to say it's odd playing with someone whose older than my father is, Frank. Usually I like to take charge in games like this, I like to be the leader. Yet, with Frank, it's difficult because he's so much older, I feel like I'm a little kid around him. I don't wanna tell him what to do, because I don't wanna be disrespectful? I'm so excited so far though, absolutely loving the challenge and how we get to pick! Im not that bright so I'm happy I can do creative stuff.

Aubree

This is my first BvW confession! Idk about the other tribe, but the Mysa Tribe is super chill. Most of the conversations yesterday consisted of everyone saying hi and that they were busy and would be active later. Day 2 and the activity level is still the same, which is kind of a relief since I am much more of an introvert. I have been trying to be the first to reach out to people since I feel that is something I have struggled with in past ORGs I’ve played in. I’m usually the reserved/silently-strategic player, but I’m going to try and be more proactive for this game. Ive talked to Klied, Jared, Amy and Leanne a decent amount and have enjoyed our conversations. I know of Amy due to the games she has played with Sarah, so I am hoping that works in my favor. Amy did say that Sarah voted her out in the first game they played in, so that could work one of two ways for my game… like if it came down to a vote between me or Sarah later on?? but maybe it is too soon to think that far ahead? Lol Even though I’m an Art Teacher I chose to steer away from the Creative part to our first challenge. Tbh I’m so burnt out irl when it comes to being creative due to my job, so I’m okay with taking a step back from the creative challenges for now. I’ve enjoyed being a part of the Scavenger Hunt, even though it was a bit harder than expected. I was so stoked to have a Starry Night print, but since it wasn’t real it didn’t count… Like who the heck has a REAL VAN GOGH?? (Or quick access to one) LOL As much as I would LOVEEE to have an original painting, that teacher salary-bracket doesn’t allow for that!! Lol I haven’t had anyone directly ask to me to be in an alliance with them… so that is - interesting? I’m used to the last two games I played where it felt like everything was very paced. Now, It’s either A) everyone is just chillin’ and not wanting to rush things or B) bonds HAVE already started to form but I’m not a part of them? I guess things will spend up more after the first challenge is over and we see where our strengths and weaknesses are in the tribe. Until then! - Aubree

Moth

Hi!! I’m back again and playing with someone I know. I actually happen to be on call with Destiny as I type this but like- were vibing And also once again I’m starting off on the wrong foot, not at home when the game starts.

Moth

I don’t trust Jared Straight up And I feel like that’s fair- Twice I’ve been voted out for my connections to Kyoshi island and it’s really fucking frustrating- Jared apologized and sounded sincere but idk I trust people too easily.. Brayden, Denara, and Leanne are also all in this game All people I’ve played with Leanne I don’t trust right off the bat. I tried that before but like- that didn’t work for me. I just want to at least make it to the merge

Frank

Having fun, learning as I get going. Truly impressed by the comraderi among people whom I've never met. Old dogs, new tricks, this is cool.

Klied

The game is going pretty well so far! Everyone has been really nice and supportive of one another. I hope this tribe dynamic continues for the next rounds of the game! :>

Moth

I fucked it up I genuinely feel really bad because everyone’s so confident in me- And I’m totally going to be a target now

Moth

Ohhhhh thank god Thank god because I was absolutely going to be on the chopping block if we lost I don’t want to be first out That being said

I don’t want Destiny to be first out either

Shawn

I'm not very happy tonight with how things went. I truly believe the other team deserved the win, the video was creative and a lot of effort was put into it! I think it was a great thing. But I disappointed that we lost so many of the challenges. I'm also getting annoyed that people are being present on the chat. I feel like it's me and another tribe member that is putting in all the work. Not impressed, but whatever. I just really hope I don't get voted off tomorrow.

Kenneth

welp i bombed the where's waldo challenge and my team lost by a hair in the riddles challenge because of an advantage so rip. i really hope i don't get voted off first because i severely underperformed in the challenge akjdnsajkndkjsnd i'd be really disappointed in myself :/

Amy

Shocked. Absolutely shocked we aren't headed to tribal lol. And here I thought my 4 minutes on Waldo was too slow but it was enough. Honestly we are lucky Blue's quit disadvantage was only what it was bc they quit after 30 minutes apparently. All these advantages at play! And I'm sitting here with a disadvantage. I think I'm clearly doing the idol hunt wrong 😆 all I have is a disadvantage from poison feast food and a chipmunk named Wadsworth in my pocket. Based on how little anyone is speaking I was certain we'd be going to tribal hands down no question. So I am very, very happy we avoided it in the end. I think it would have been between Jessie and Josh though bc they aren't active. I would have voted Jessie bc Josh did the video even after saying he didn't actually want to do the creative part so that's major props to him in my book! I am very curious as to who the other tribe is going to vote off in the end. I hope it's no one I want to make it far. Oh basically I know I'm probably not making merge so I'm trying to align things to get certain people farther and get other people out. I'm rooting for a newbie to take it. Anyway woo day off and I won't be first boot. Fingers crossed it's not Ava. I wouldn't be surprised if she was targeted for her association with me. Love this game! Love this cast! Love the idol hunt! The reward challenge was the most fun bc Ava and I were incredibly intoxicated after Drag Bingo and we did better each time! The last one we went "office" and "turnip" and literally bust out laughing and both said "Nate". I would like to personally apologize to Ellie for having to witness that nonsense. Thank you to everyone! Oh one last thing. I did not want to work with jared at all but it looks like I am going to be forced to do so. I think I have to put trust in Jared and in Leanne who has voted me out of two games prior 😆 but that's me always just bonding most with the people who are active and want to talk to me.

Amy

There's 100% going to be a Canada alliance.

Aubree

Who won the first challenge?? MYSA DID! Woot woot! Even though Jared, Jessie and I didn’t win the Scavenger Hunt portion after the advantages were added in - we did win as far as how many total objects were found, so I’m pretty proud about that! To top it off Sarah and I won the Reward Challenge!!!! We both get 3 stat points to add to our Idol Hunt… which I have yet to do… I should probably do that tomorrow O_o

Avat

hings are going well i think!!! i've had a lot of fun and i sorta vibe with everyone so far on the tribe. i'm really hyped and fingers crossed we do well. i've been sorta inactive with my challenge bc of work but i'm doing what i can for now. more to come soon

DeNara

Well this is my first confessional of the game and oh my is this going to be an interesting game. Initial impressions of my tribe...... Sarah +Jodi- frenemies because they are so good at survivor Frank- I really like him. He seems like a cool dude Kenneth- Seems cool, I may want to work with him, but he seems to be playing harder than he should so early Brayden- Didn't get the best first impression, but that could change Shawn- Super quiet, then they started chatting so that helped Ava, J.G., Destiny- Really inactive so I don't really know- potential first vote I want to work with Sarah, Frank and maybe Kenneth. Jodi would be good to work with although who knows what she is thinking. Everyone else I will stay open to working with, but really don't care too much as of yet.

DeNara

The first challenge was weird because everyone just took their roles and stopped talking. I HATE QUIET. Period. The creative challenge on my tribe wasn't super creative imo, but they tried. I didn't help in the scavenger hunt as much as I wanted too so that sucks, but at least we won that part so that looks good. I am so excited for this idol hunt! It is amazing! Props to the hosts! WE LOST, DAMMIT. At least Derrick won't be the first boot. I hope I am not either or HE WILL NOT STOP BUGGING ME ABOUT IT AND I WILL DIE.

DeNara

Well it is chaos now. Shawn has made an alliance with Sarah, Kenneth, and myself. I like the safety of that. Jodi, Sarah and myself also made a Subrosa alliance (we all knew that would happen) and I feel like this will keep me safe for a while at least. Both Sarah and Jodi want to work with Brayden and potentially Kenneth so we may make an alliance of 5 with them- but that also means Sarah and I would have to talk to Kenneth about not telling Jodi about the other alliance and that could be very risky early on.... hmmm idk about that. Also, Frank is my dude. I hope he stays. I think I am going to lean towards J.G. or Destiny.

Sarah

https://youtu.be/RzlLHyHZguQ

Kenneth

I am now in 2 alliances: one with denara, sarah, and shawn, and another one with ava and brayden! i feel good about both alliances, with the first one feeling solid and loyal (for now), and the second one for the long term! i feel very solid about sarah and denara, i feel like i can last long with them as my good allies. jodi's a tricky one, because i know she's a damn good player, but it's better to keep her on my side for now until an opportune time to make a move (and i actually really like talking to her!).

Jared

me: i'm gonna try to make this concise also me: 8 minutes on the very first episode where i'm not even going to tribal oh boy

Brayden

https://youtu.be/reALs2hizjk hey everyone I'm here

DeNara

So now I am in a bunch of alliances. I guided Kenneth to make an alliance chat with Sarah and me to tell us to keep our alliances with 1. Shawn and 2. Brayden and Jodi a secret. Insert evil laugh here lol. So all together right now I should have Sarah, Jodi, Kenneth, Brayden, Shawn and Frank backing me, so I shouldn't be first boot. It sounds like we are going for Destiny because they aren't very active, which was the name Kenneth threw out first so he is getting what he wants without upsetting me.

Ava

so so so bummed about going to tribal i thought we had it in the bag especially with our advantages but alas... i formed an alliance with brayden and kenneth which i'm super obsessed with i really like both of them - hopefully this means safety for tomorrow. i hate working two jobs and the week after next ill be working just one which is just so fucking sweet fingers crossed i can make it that long in this game. anyway that's all for now

Jodi

I'm so happy to be back. This time, I promise to play a chill Jodi game as I said in my intro, and I want to relax and enjoy this twist of a season. Jared and I are thrilled to play our second season together in the actual format of BvW, and we will be playing our own games. So far, I'm glad to have Denara, Sarah, Brayden on my tribe, as we all know each other but never played before (except Brayden). I want to keep an open mind and play fluidly. Kenneth told Brayden within 10 mins of the game starting that he was scared of me, but I hope I can gain the trust of people and not play as flashy as people remember me for. Looking forward to the connections I make!

Jodi

I promised y'all a chill Jodi game and here i am, delivering it. I think. DeNara and Sarah immediately made the "The Best of SubRosa" chat because obviously that was bound to happen, but additionally, the 3 of us are in an alliance with Brayden and Kenneth called "the clock" (because of our time zones ahahahaha). This game's dynamic is so different because even though we hate going to tribal, it also means that our loved ones are safe from tribal, which sometimes, could be better. I hope Jared is doing good on the other side. Obviously I trust Sarah and DeNara but I also know Sarah will cut my throat when it needs to happen, even if she gonna be crying while doing it, so I'll just...not be blinded by that. I trust Brayden 100%, Kenneth calling me scary is not great but I guess he rather be with me than against me, for now. Y'all Ingary kids what did you say about me??? LMAOO ♥️ I did ask him why he didn't cause ruckus at 5 and whip out the superidol and he said "tunnel vision". Hey that's two of us I guess!

Sarah

https://youtu.be/RzlLHyHZguQJessie So I’m still working on making like connections and stuff but we won the first challenge so no tribal which is a very good thing . ❤️ I’m enjoying this interactive scavenger hunt and I’m totally not trying to pull a Danni from Midsommar lol.

Brayden

hey guys im in a 5 person alliance rn with jodi sarah denara and kenneth and i feel pretty good and excited bc i think ill win this whole game but sadly destiny is prob leaving tonight <\3

Derrick

First challenge done. We rocked it! I don't really have any sort of alliance at this point but I seem to be getting along with everyone. Josh didn't seem to put too much effort into our creative set up but it still worked out OK. It was unfortunate I was on my trip at the time as I could have done so much more with. I think as long as we support eachother we can rock every challenge that comes our way!joshIM SOO HAPPY WE WON! our tribe seems to be like friendly but i havent made any alliances i think so idk if im in a good spot if we lose a challenge but we didnt this time so🙃ShawnEveryone in the tribe is messaging about Destiny, and that is who everyone is thinking of voting off. I'm still thinking of voting Frank off, and I think that's who I'm going for. He's not good at technology, and this whole game is about technology! We lost the creative challenge because all we could do with him was write! Still, everyone thinks because Destiny isn't very active she should be the one to go. I'm not sure what I want to do. JGOh hey! Here we are round one. I feel so out of it playing this game. For the first time in a while, I barely know any of the other players. Which is refreshing and tough. I also feel like my social game is kind of lacking but that is kind of my brand for round 1. I have had some great one on one conversations with DeNara, Jodi, and Sarah. I've talked to Brayden and Kenneth as well a little bit less than the first three. Shawn and Ava, barely. Frank and Destiny not at all. The vote should be Destiny since we sadly lost. Which works for me. I feel the closest with DeNara and Sarah. Really hoping I can start to get my footing. If we were to lose again, Frank would probably go but I don't wanna put myself in the line of fire again. Well here's hoping things improve. Hopefully, I'm not blindsided. Here we go.blueMy tribe seems pretty cool so far, everyone is nice and seems pretty active so thats nice. Shawns going to tribal so I hope theyre gonna be safe :(((DeNara As far as I know, the vote is going to be Destiny. I feel bad for them for not getting the chance to play, and I feel really bad for Moth, they always have the worst luck in ORGs. That being said I sure hope nothing crazy happens tonight or I will cry 100% Tribal, here I come...AubreeThere is hardly any game talk (at least from where I’m standing), so I may start trying to get a feel of where people are at by asking some game-related questions in the tribe chat. Don’t get me wrong, I love the personal chit-chats… BUT I’m also feeling a bit empty-handed as far as knowing everyone’s game motives. Maybe I’m being too bold… idk. I’m not normally the one to standout in ORGs, so hopefully my tribe doesn’t take this as me prying… even though I guess I kinda am?? 😬 “Oof look at me being all dangerous and shit!” 😤🤘🏼😂blueSO here are more detailed thoughts on my tribe. Amy of course is a queen and a legend and we've played together before and have a good rapport. Leanne is so kind and so funny, and I would be super down for working with her. Jared is SO nice I get really good vibes and really enjoy talking to him. Aubree is also very nice and seems genuinely interested in my irrelevant stories 10/10 good vibes. Moth is dope as expected and turns out we have a lot of the same interests ie. witcher and the mcelroys very fun. The rest are yet to be determined.AmyI would like to start out by saying that Brayden's video during their tribal almost made me seasick thanks buddy. So today was a DAY. It was a day off and like I had a weird day at work lol 😆 and then I remembered there was the task of talking to people who h i slacked on today whoops sorry. But for half these people idk if they even noticed bc my tribe is so quiet. Did I already say I tried asking Jessie what their favorite berry was? Like that's how exhausting conversation has been most all around. I think I'm talking to Leanne, Derrick, and Jared the most. I am begging for bygones to be bygones. But anyway I was trying to do a little of the hunt throughout the day bc after seeing

all those advantages last go I was SHOCKED. Then at the end of work I made it to thevpart where I was talking to the grumpy sad flower crown man and after falling on my weak ass on a ladder I picked the lock with a bobbypin and charisma's him to make me a flower crown which got me to the maypole which had me do a scavenger hunt and I got an idol. Writing this all out is absolutely hilarious. But yeah I have an idolllllllllllllllllllll which I don't want to use anytime soon. But I have a feeling I'm going to struggle to make merge. Anyway I got this idol like directly after the other tribe finishing tribal and I love a funny timing like that. I'm glad Ava survived weee! And wow they have some very vocal tribe members haha I'm sure Denara and Jodi are working together which tracks bc I've been closest to both of them individually in prior games early on. Curious if it will stick. So next was rock paper scissors for which I have a 10% disadvantage which apparently applies to the overall tribe score ☠️ . I won my game against Brayden who was at seemingly a raging Big Brother watch party. Sorry buddy. But we've been chatting like he asked how josh was and I said Josh is great and really stepped up to the plate for the creative challenge even though it wasn't what he wanted and also he loves tom holland so I instantly trust him. Then he said everyone likes ava bc she's just so cool and yes I get it I am personally intimidated by how cool Ava is and I have to be around that cool level every day honestly I don't know why she talks to me but she's a badass. Anyyywayyyy he doesn't seem keen on actually talking game and I need to figure out if I need to just tell my tribe I have a disadvantage rn or be like what the fuck the other tribe is so mean to give me a disadvantage 😭 Anyway excited to explore the hunt some more and this game is so fun. If we go to tribal I think Jessie is most at risk tbh. Okay that's all bye ❤️

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