#if my bangs after a shower nd how my hair was when i was little is anything to go by my hair is naturally pretty curly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

m-rphy · 5 years

Text

We can text if you can’t talk

Summary: When Matteo sees David dance with and kiss Leonie at Sara's party, his world begins to crumble, and it's like he's plunged into darkness. This is the aftermath. TW: This fic deals with slight themes of transphobia and self-harm/depression.

Notes: I apologize in advance if I handled any trans issues in an insensitive matter in this fic. Please let me know if that's the case and I'd be happy to change those parts.

Matteo had stopped caring about which day it was. He woke up when it was already light out and went back to sleep long after the sun had set. His curtains were drawn closed pretty much 24/7 anyway, so it wasn't like it mattered if it was day or night.

First, he had been able to excuse his behavior to Hans and Linn and his boys with just wanting to relax a few days after his first couple of exams. Then he had lied that he got sick and needed to rest. But at this point, he had run out of excuses. He basically only left his bed to take a piss or get something to eat (which all tasted the same anyway so it was frozen pizza after frozen pizza) and he knew he worried Hans and Jonas especially, but he couldn't help it. It just... got overwhelming. Matteo wished nothing more than to be able to... take out his brain and replace it with a new, normally-functioning one, or to just disappear, or to never being born at all.

He had put on some comedy on Netflix in hopes of it cheering him up, but he couldn't even begin to concentrate on the movie so instead, he was playing games on his phone at the same time. Just as the leading lady in the movie fell into a pool, his phone buzzed with a message.

Jonas, 20:17 Hey bro what are you doing?

Matteo inhaled deeply. He had been ignoring Jonas for two days already and he knew it was unfair but the thought alone of trying to string together words for an answer drained what little energy he had left. He plopped his head down on his arm again, dropping his phone back onto his mattress.

Man, this movie was shit.

Matteo blinked awake. Deep pink light fell through his windows, half-swallowed and muted by his curtains, but still tinting his room a warm hue. His laptop still stood on the edge of his bed, the led light that indicated it was in standby mode blinking. Matteo closed it and rolled onto his back, staring at the ceiling.

His mind wandered to all the times this has happened before. Most days, it was just an underlying feeling of sadness mixed with apathy, something people around him tended to call a “laid-back” or “I don't give a fuck” attitude. But some days and weeks, it got bad. Like, bad bad. Sleeping-for-15-hours bad. Not-showering-in-four-days bad. Banging-his-head-against-a-wall-to-numb-the-inside-pain-with-outside-pain bad.

His phone buzzed again, but he didn't even bother to look at it. His stomach rumbled. Matteo inhaled deeply, debating how much longer he could put off making some food since he had been hungry already before his nap. His stomach grumbled again, contracting painfully.

Matteo sighed and rolled over to get up, not bothering to change the sweater he had been living in for the past three days, or to put on proper pants. The WG had seen him in his boxers plenty of times already so whatever.

He padded over into the kitchen, painfully aware of the disheveled state of his hair and how easy it would be for any of the others to tell something wasn't alright. He didn't care. He simply took a pizza from the freezer, put it on the oven rack without backing parchment and closed the oven door, setting the temperature to 200°C.

“Hey my little butterfly,” Hans greeted him as he entered to kitchen and went over to the fridge.

“He,” Matteo replied, and God, now he even failed at forming full words? And sure enough, Hans turned around to look at him, the fridge door hanging open behind him. Matteo avoided his eyes and looked down at his feet.

“Pizza again?” Hans asked, obviously trying to make conversation, but Matteo didn't see the point in replying. Obviously pizza again. He just did a half-shrug-head-shake instead. Hans didn't say anything else for a few seconds, and then, “How about we cook something together tomorrow evening? A nice potato gratin with loads of cheese. Hm? What about that?”

Matteo looked up at Hans for a moment and said “Whatever” with another shrug before he looked at his feet again. Hans made a small noise of discontent.

“You need a pick-me-up,” he concluded before he shut the fridge and left the kitchen again, leaving Matteo to stare at the spot where he just stood.

A soft knock on his door caused Matteo to look up.

“Matteo,” an even softer voice came muffled through the door and Matteo's heart skipped a beat. He felt paralyzed. “Can I come in?”

Matteo just stared at the door, a thousand emotions swelling up inside him and constricting his throat, making it impossible to reply anything. Not to mention the fact that he wasn't even sure if he wanted him to come in or not.

A soft thud against the door made Matteo think that he leaned against it on the other side and some of the tension left Matteo's body, only to come back tenfold when his phone buzzed with a message from him.

David, 21:09 Can I please come inside?

Matteo blinked and felt a tear fall from his eyes. Fuck. Why were emotions a thing? He stared at the message through the tears blurring his vision and his fingers hovered over the screen.

Matteo, 21:10 Ok

There was some rustling on the other side of the door and after a moment of silence, the door creaked open. Matteo held his breath.

David entered his room hesitantly, half-hiding behind the door, and looked over at Matteo who realized that David would totally be able to tell he had been crying, even from where he stood. Quickly, he wiped his cheeks dry with the sleeve of his sweater.

“Hi,” David said quietly, not moving, waiting, giving Matteo room. For some reason, this made everything worse.

“Hi,” Matteo finally replied and David took this as a sign that he could close the door. Afterwards, he came over to the bed, but stopped at the end of it, biting his lip. This close, Matteo – who couldn't help but study David's face – saw that he didn't seem to be doing so well either. There were dark circles under his eyes and his hair looked a lot messier than usual.

The silence filled the room when neither of them knew what to say next. Matteo was glad he didn't need to talk because the lump in his throat was still there and he was afraid that his voice would break if he had to say more than one word. As the silence went on he watched as David pulled his phone out of his pocket and started typing, before his own phone buzzed. David looked over at him expectantly. Matteo unlocked his phone.

David, 21:12 We can text if you can't talk

And, a second later...

David, 21:12 It's what I do when everything gets too much

Matteo stared at the messages as a feeling, so very different from everything he had experienced in the past days, started to spread through him. The closest he had ever come to feeling like this was when he spent time alone with Jonas, but it was different still. His phone buzzed again.

David, 21:13 I will just stay here a bit okay? And when you're ready you can tell me whats wrong

With this, he sat down at the end of the bed and took of his jacket, revealing a soft black hoodie, his headphones still looped around his neck, like always. Matteo knew David was looking over at him, but he just continued to stare at his phone, at the message David had just sent.

The clattering of pots and pans carried over from the kitchen, and somehow it felt like an invasion of privacy, even though Matteo was perfectly aware that all of his flat mates were decent enough not to listen in on others' conversations. Well, except maybe Hans.

Matteo tried to breathe through the lump in his throat as he started typing a reply to David. He didn't know where to start, a thousand thoughts flooding his brain. After a moment of hesitation, he started with the one he was surest about.

Matteo, 21:15 I like you. I cant explain it but i do and i think ive never felt the same for anyone else and its terrifying. Because life is horrible and shit like at saras party happens and it rips ur fucking heart out nd theres nothing u can do abut it

The tears were back and he hated hated hated it. He hated himself so much in moments like this. Matteo screwed his eyes shut and dropped his head against the wall he was leaning on with a bit more force than he had planned and suddenly he found himself in David's arms who pulled him away from the wall and held him tight.

“Stop,” he whispered in Matteo's ear, no heat behind it, so very different to how his Dad had reacted when Matteo had first shown signs of self-destructive behavior as a child. And when David's fingers brushed gingerly across the back of his head to soothe the pain, instead of grabbing his wrists in an iron grip like his Dad telling him to snap out of it, Matteo realized was true concern looked like. Since his Dad had left, he had begun to realize that his father's actions had always come from a place of annoyance, but it hadn't been until just now that he knew what difference a reaction could make.

And with this realization, Matteo slumped against David and hugged him back, held him so close that he thought he'd crush him, but David just let it happen. And like this they sat until the clatter and chatter from the kitchen fell silent, the others back in their rooms, and his room dark save for the lamp on his bedside table. The tears had stopped, though his nose was still runny, and finally he felt ready to pull back.

He met David's eyes, the other boy's eyebrows knitted together sadly.

“I'm sorry,” he murmured, dropping his gaze for a moment. “About Sara's party. I don't know what came over me. It's just...” He inhaled deeply. “You remember that joke you made about Hans's friend, the trans girl from that one party who you said “Still totally looks like a dude”?”

Matteo blinked at him in confusion before he nodded.

“Well, it's just that...” David hesitated again, taking another shaky breath. “I'm trans, Matteo.”

Matteo felt his face fall. Fuck.

“David, I –” he started but David cut him off.

“My parents decided to move since I was bullied at my last school because of it, so I never told anyone here because I didn't wanna go through the same stuff again. And then you came along and I fell head over heels and then... well... then you said that.” He looked down at his lap where he picked on his thumb's cuticle with his fingernail. “And it made me doubt everything that happened between us. And then Leonie was at the party, and I know she has a crush on me, so I just said to myself, why the fuck not? I just wanted to feel good for one night.”

Matteo stared at him, his thoughts a mess.

“David, I'm sorry,” he finally said, because what he had just heard put everything else into perspective. “I never meant to hurt you, I'm sorry.”

“Well, shit happens,” David said with a sad chuckle and looked at Matteo again. “After you said that, my thoughts just spiraled and I... well... I ended up convincing myself that you'd never want to be together with me because I'm trans.”

“No!” The word broke out of Matteo with such force that he was a bit surprised himself. “It's... well I'd be lying if I said it's not a bit weird right now, but... it doesn't change anything for me, David. I like you because you're you. Because you get me.” And when he saw the look on David's face, he added, “I meant it's weird because I'm a stupid bastard and I don't know shit, and I don't want to hurt you ever again with something I say.”

“Don't call yourself that,” David said in a small voice.

“It's true though. I hurt you, so that makes me a bastard.”

“You were just joking around,” David tried to trivialize it. “You didn't know any better.”

But Matteo was having none of it. “That's not an excuse. It was still shitty.”

He thought David would continue to protest, but he said something else instead. “Do you know why I'm here?” Matteo shook his head no. “Because Sara texted me. Apparently she had the suspicion you're gay and have a crush on me after you dumped her, and then Hanna texted her earlier about how you've been down the whole holidays and she remembered what happened at the party and put two and two together.”

Matteo couldn't help but be amazed. He knew he had hurt her deeply, but that she still found it in her heart to care about him like that... he hadn't expected it. At the mention of the party, Matteo couldn't keep himself any longer from asking a question that had been on his mind since David had arrived.

“So you're not interested in Leonie?”

The question hung in the air for a moment before David laughed, and Matteo's heart tugged warmly at the sight of it.

“Matteo. I'm gay. I'm in love with you.”

Whoop, there it was. David's mouth fell open when he noticed what he had said and Matteo was aware that he looked just as thunderstruck.

“You what?” he asked, not able to stop the smile from spreading across his face. It took David a second longer before a similar smile lifted the corners of his mouth as well.

“I'm in love with you.”

“God, stop being cheesy!” Matteo laughed and shoved David so that he almost fell backwards. For a moment, they jostled around until both of them needed to catch their breath and Matteo noticed that their fingers were entwined. Suddenly, the air in his room felt heavier again.

“So, you still like me?” David asked, the uncertainty still audible in his voice.

“Yes,” Matteo answered without missing a beat. “I still like you, dumbass.”

And God, the smile that lit up David's face just then, it could've blinded the whole world.

#druck #matteo x david #my art

56 notes · View notes

ribbonshades · 5 years

Text

January 26th, 2019

One lovely winter morning, the rising sunlight streamed through the tall windows of Jean Duvert’s penthouse apartment, warming his sleeping face with what little heat it offered. He had kicked off his blankets in his sleep again, resulting in him laying amongst them in a plaid pair of pajama pants and a long sleeved grey shirt, as usual, hair tousled behind him. He stirred, curling onto his side and bunching up his blankets to fit in his arms where neither of his boyfriends were currently.

“Mnnnngh,” he groaned, tired limbs stretching, his blue eyes finally fluttering open. The clock read 7:16, meaning he woke up perfectly on time for his day. He spent a few moments rolling gently in bed and lamenting having to leave its warmth and then finally got out of bed, yawning and rubbing his eyes as he plodded towards his bathroom. He could already hear others in the house starting to move about. He pulled off his pajamas and took a nice and hot quick shower, drying off well when he finished.

“What to wear…” he murmured, noting how cold it may be. He opted for a dark mauve dress shirt, dark grey dress pants and a light grey sweater cardigan, a very typical outfit for him. His medium length hair was dry enough to put up in his usual hair style, which he accomplished with a staticky flick of his wrist through his hair. His bangs didn't seem to cooperate, so he tamed them by sliding in a few pins that Jing had given him years before. With his glasses resting on his nose, he gave a soft smile to his reflection and headed down the stairs to start breakfast.

“Good morning,” he called as he came down to the kitchen. Amaryllis was scurrying about, packing up her homework from the night before, while Charles lay on the couch watching a video with Toyo.

“Hi Dad!” Amaryllis grinned, putting her bag down and going up to him. He smiled and gave her a kiss on the top of her head, ruffling her hair.

“Hello, mon fleur. I brought some salmon home last night, how does that sound for breakfast?” He glanced up to the others, though he knew they would always be fine with whatever he cooked for them.

“Sounds great!” Amaryllis opened the fridge to pull out her packed lunch and tuck it in her bag, taking out three more lunch boxes and putting them in a separate bag. While it was open, Jean pulled out the salmon, some eggs and small stone fruits. He started the rice, turned on the stove, boiled a pot of water and in no time threw together bowls of rice, soft boiled eggs, grilled salmon and sweet grilled apricots.

“Breakfast is ready,” he called to the others, putting the plates of varying contents in front of the counter stools. He always knew their preferences and tried to appeal to them- Charles liked his eggs with a more cooked yolk, Toyo was a fan of fruit and got a few more halves of apricots, and Amaryllis got a bigger piece of salmon simply because she's a growing girl. The four of them ate in a peaceful silence, content at what the day would bring for them all.

“We’re going to leave in a few more minutes. Get ready, okay?” Jean said once he finished his breakfast. Amaryllis nodded earnestly and gulped down the rest of her milk, letting Charles and Toyo take the empty dishes to wash. Jean grabbed his car keys and a folder of documents, with the intention of heading to the God’s Pad to do some work after dropping the kids off. He returned to the door where Amaryllis sat with her backpack, ready for the day.

“Alright, let’s go. See you two later,” Jean called to Charles and Toyo. He and Amaryllis headed over to the elevator and took it all the way down to the parking garage– in these moments where they had normalcy in their lives, they really took any chance the had– and Amaryllis climbed into the back of the car, buckling herself in. Jean pulled out of the garage and drove through the streets of Shibuya towards Pork City, where Nori, Taiki and Kogasa waited.

“G’morning, Dad!” Taiki chirped when Jean pulled over. “I got the tupperware from yesterday, all clean!” Taiki opened the front door to sit in the front seat– despite Kogasa being the oldest and tallest, Taiki liked sitting next to Jean as he drove. Nori shuffled into the middle seat and Kogasa slid into the last vacant seat, all of their backpacks resting at their feet.

“Let’s goooo!” Taiki grinned as Jean shifted gears and took off towards their school. On the ride there, Amaryllis shyly distributed the lunch boxes between the Hiraoka brothers, making sure that the biggest one went to Kogasa.

“Have a good day at school,” Jean said, waving to them all as they got out of the car. He left his car parked in the school parking lot, waited for there to be nobody around, and phased back to the God’s Pad with his folder in hand. This place felt vividly nostalgic in the worst ways, sometimes– but at least he had less grievances about it now. He walked over to the piano in the room, his finger tracing a path through the dust.

“Been a while, huh?” he murmured, it not being clear what he was referring to. He gave the dusty black surface of the piano a lingering look, wondering if he should dust it. Regardless, he smiled and went to his desk, greeting any of the Officers working busily around the office. He had a Reaper to check on today, to make sure their rehabilitation was going okay, but after that his day seemed pretty free. He hadn’t had work at the restaurant, either. Maybe he would swing by Nora’s place to say hi. He settled in at his desk to check what was new, when his phone began to ring.

“Oi!” called the voice on the other line as soon as he picked up. “I’m comin’ over tonight, right?!”

“Sorry, who is this?” Jean replied playfully, a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Hey! You know who this is! Ya got me on caller ID or some shit, right!” the voice audibly puffed indignantly, making Jean laugh.

“Yes, yes, Chris. I’m actually going to be visiting Taboo later on, if you’d like to tag along to that, too,” he said, a fondness clear in his voice.

“Hah… maybe not today! I got some homework to do ‘nd shit. Plus, I don’t need more sweets. But you bet I’ll be at your place at like, 7 o’clock!” Chris declared.

“You know you can always be sweeter. Alright, alright. See you later,” Jean said, smiling, hanging up before Chris could protest. He put his phone down, face up in case anyone else called him, and got to work. Fortunately, the check in didn’t require much– Officers had already reported on the Reaper, so he just had to flick through paperwork for an hour before he was on his way to Taboo Sweets. He pulled the door open, the door chimes tinkling happily to indicate his arrival. He immediately was pelted with something soft– a pillow? The offending object landed in his hands and he blinked in confusion.

“Oh, haven’t seen your face around here lately,” Nora said sarcastically, her arm still raised after her pillow toss, raising an eyebrow from her perch at the counter. Jean chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, guilty of her accusation. He entered the shop, putting the pillow back on a nearby couch. There were a few RGers sitting around the cafe, sipping away at their drinks or soups, but otherwise oblivious to his presence there.

“Hey, I’ve been busy. It’s been on my list, I swear,” he defended himself, though he always felt light inside whenever Nora expressed anything like that to him– it just meant that she missed him, was all.

“Want a drink?” Nora offered, bouncing to her feet on the floor.

“Ahh, hm. I could do with just a green tea, really.” Nora hopped over to behind the counter to fix her friend a drink. She pulled out a slice of a cake of some sort and served them both to Jean with a grin.

“Aw, thanks. This new?” Jean asked, picking up the fork to spear a piece of cake off.

“Yeah! It’s a peach shortcake. Just trying some new things,” Nora said, leaning her elbows on the counter as Jean ate. They spent a while chatting and catching up, complete with Meira bouncing about and teasingly asking where Charles was. Of course, Jean could sense a certain Reaper’s presence from the shadow underneath a chair shrink at the mention of his name. It was almost time to pick up the kids by the time he left, so he phased back to his car at the school and waited while checking his phone.

“Utaite Producer Yoshinda to join XYZ Tour!” said a headline on his Twitter feed. Damn, Haruki is going on tour? He quickly texted him a “congratulations on the tour!” and smiled when Haruki actually replied with a “thanks” and a cheerful kaomoji.

“Dad!” cried Taiki in excitement, as if he hadn’t seen him just that morning. Taiki and Nori clambered into the car, Taiki once again in the passenger seat. He knew that Kogasa had kendo that day, meaning that Amaryllis would be watching him, so they would be able to get home just fine on their own. Jean still felt slightly complicated at his pseudo-son dating his actual daughter, but… that is life. He drove back to his apartment, going up the elevator with the two younger Hiraokas, wondering what sort of after school snack he should make for them.

He settled on just giving them fruit for now, since he’d have to make the three brothers dinner that day, with Mama Hiraoka doing overtime. Taiki spent the next while telling Jean all of the great things he got up to that day in between chomps of fruit, Nori listening intently with wide eyes.

“What’s for dinner, Dad?” Taiki asked finally.

“I was thinking just some roasted veggies and chicken, maybe some mashed potatoes too,” Jean answered, thinking to himself. It wasn’t long until it was time to start cooking dinner in the end, which he started once he got Taiki and Nori to start working on their homework. Chris showed up at some point, too, though once he saw that Jean was still cooking he started to try and escape to avoid having to help with dinner. Jean firmly gave Chris a knife and a bunch of carrots before he could leave, and the Reaper huffed in resignation and started to chop. Kogasa and Amaryllis came home just before dinner was served, a big family dinner with 9 people all talking and chatting happily while eating.

“How was practice, Koga?” Jean asked, glancing up to the eldest Hiraoka son. Kogasa adjusted his glasses in slight embarrassment.

“Went well,” he replied simply. Amaryllis beamed next to him, which told Jean quite enough of how it went.

Mama Hiraoka came and picked up her sons after dinner, with an extra container of a portion of dinner for her too. She thanked Jean gratefully, as tired as she looked, but Jean was just happy to help keep their family going.

Chris, Jean, Toyo and Charles ended up playing Mario Party all the way through the rest of the evening, with Charles winning a very unsurprising victory above the rest. Jean chuckled while Chris complained at the mini games being too hard, teasing him about just needing to try for once. It was late at that point, and everybody went to bed, Jean and Chris retreating upstairs.

“Thanks for coming over,” Jean said, tossing Chris his pajamas. Chris grinned and started to change.

“‘F course, man! Anything for you.” Jean smiled, truly thankful that Chris didn’t mind staying over every now and then to help ward off his nightmares. Of course, sometimes they got up to other activities, but the two of them were both pretty exhausted from the day and they went straight to bed. Chris was out like a light in no time, snoring his stupid head off while clinging to Jean’s arm.

“Today was a good day,” Jean mumbled to himself, smiling. He closed his eyes, hoping the next day would be just as good.

#branch #this was a commission from cin actually

1 note · View note

renwritesstuff · 7 years

Text

Downtime Drabble: “useless”

Also on AO3. Approximately 2,736 words.

Prompt #19 for Shaynor: "kisses meant to distract the other person from whatever they were intently doing"

Samantha Traynor glared from across the cabin, a datapad in hand. She sat on the low couch, her mind spinning with potential strategy.

Her target: Annelise Shepard.

Her objective: Revenge.

The datapad glowed with the book Sam had been attempting to read earlier (a trashy romance novel downloaded from Allers’ collection of trash). It had been an excellent morning ritual. A nice little balance of fluff and smut and drama. The asari heroine was torn between her two lovers, a proud quarian warrior and a demure salarian envoy.

Perfect for a quiet morning in on her (their) day off. Then Shepard had gone and ruined it for sport. And Sam was determined to make her pay.

Sam was just minding her own business, reading her book in her pajamas and sipping her coffee. A picture-perfect houseguest in Shepard’s cozy captain’s quarters. Annelise had been at her giant aquarium feeding her (2nd generation) collection of fish when it started.

Light and casual, Annelise had asked, “Whatcha readin’?”

“Oh… you know,” Sam hummed back distractedly.

“I do not, actually,” Annelise retorted. “…is this an Allers book?” Her tone suggested an accusation.

Sam didn’t even need to look up to sense the narrowed-eyed look in her direction. Sam deflected with a chuckle. “If you already know, why did you ask?”

A scolding tsk sound deep in Shepard’s throat. “You’re gonna to be ‘bloody useless’ today, aren’t you?” Her attempt at mimicking Sam’s accent was atrocious at best.

“That was the plan, darling,” Sam replied with a sip of her coffee.

Alira and Zeva gazed into each other’s eyes.

“But what about Sirin?” Zeva asked, her glowing eyes slanted with worry under her red mask.

“Sirin is amazing… but she’s not you. No one is you,” Alira replied, hands reaching for—

Annelise’s voice broke into her thoughts. “How about a game of chess?”

Glancing up, Sam’s lips quirked in a smile. “We lent my set to Ashley, remember? So she and Tali could have a row of the minds rather than the fists?”

I would know: I had to run the betting pool.

Three to one Ashley because she’s familiar with the game. And a bigger nerd than she cares to admit.

Four to one Tali because she’s an engineering genius. And ridiculously competitive according to Garrus.

Too close to call, honestly.

Can’t wait for the prelims to end so I can put some credits down. …I say Tali. Shepard says Ashley.

“Oh… right.” The disappointment on Annelise’s face actually made Sam smile wider.

But Sam continued reading.

—hands reaching for Zeva’s. Her fingers stroked the soft texture of the biosuit.

The quarian was uncertain, but melted into the asari’s touch. She—

“You up for a movie? I can rustle up some freeze-dried popcorn from the Mess Sergeant. How about Blasto 2? I hear the director’s cut has some epic commentary…”

Her eyes flicking back up to Annelise, Sam gave a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe later? Not really feeling popcorn first thing in the morning.” She made an exaggerated expression of disgust, her tongue lolling out.

Popcorn mixed with coffee? Blech.

No thank you.

The woman’s cheeks puffed out with an exasperated exhale, her messy red bangs wafting slightly in the breeze. “You’re just gonna sit there and read all morning?”

“That was my plan, yes,” Samantha airily replied as she took a dramatic coffee slurp this time. She made a show of snuggling against the apex of the L-shaped couch, her legs splayed out comfortably across the length.

—She leaned forward of her own accord. Zeva’s right hand traced along the familiar contours of Alira’s cheek all the way to her crest. She fondly remembered the last time they—

The couch shifted as Annelise sat down at Sam’s right. Her peripheral vision caught a pair of fingertips walking towards her thigh. Tilting her chin towards Shepard, Sam’s eyes remained on her book. “Don’t you have a new model you were dying to work on? Perhaps now would be a good time to start?”

“Perhaps,” came the insincere reply. Those fingertips crept up Sam’s thigh and began to stroke inward. The couch shifted again as Annelise scooted closer, her hot breath tickling at Sam’s neck.

Still not looking over, Samantha asked, “Something on your mind, darling? …You really don’t do well sitting idle, do you?” She couldn’t keep amusement out of her voice.

Frankly, dear: you’re absolute rubbish at it.

“Why be idle, when we could…” Annelise trailed off as her lips found Sam’s exposed collarbone.

Biting her lower lip, Sam had inwardly scowled.

Stay strong, Traynor.

“Because learning to be still is absolutely lovely. You should give it some practice. Perhaps right now, for example.”

That same, insincere “Perhaps” was whispered back as those lips kissed their way up Sam’s neck now.

Yes...

No, it’s fine. I am reading my bloody book.

…Where was I? Oh yes, Zeva and Alira were finally back together.

“Shepard…” Samantha warned. She kept her eyes petulantly glued to her book, determined to stay unruffled.

Another shift on the couch. Annelise had moved her body against Sam’s elbow and side. Fingertips gently pushed back the loose, messy black hair around Samantha’s throat to allow easier access. Those breathless kisses continued up to Sam’s jawline.

Sam warned again but her heart wasn’t in it. “Shepard…” It came out more as a whine.

Annelise knew she’d won and pressed her advantage. With warm fingertips, she tilted Sam’s chin towards her and kissed deeply. The datapad slipped from Sam’s grasp and slid down her thigh to the floor with a clattering sound.

Turning, Sam tangled her fingers in Annelise’s hair as they laid back on the couch exchanging soft kisses. Every so often there would be a pause and a smile before continuing. During one such reprieve, Samantha whispered, “You are absolutely terrible.”

“I know,” was the husky reply. Annelise started to pull at Sam’s t-shirt, her exhale-laugh a warm breath on Sam’s cheek. Sam traced her own fingers along the elastic of Annelise’s waistband and started to tug downward.

A familiar voice came over the cabin intercom.

[“Commander Shepard, you have an incoming message from the Fifth Fleet. Admiral Hackett is requesting your presence immediately.”]

“Don’t. You. Bloody. Dare. Shepard.” Sam spat every word as she glared up at the woman.

Annelise at least had the decency to look apologetic, but she stood up all the same. Leaving Sam half-reclined on the couch with her shirt half-off.

Her grin was both sheepish and wicked. “Sorry, Sam. Duty calls?” Smoothing a hand over her own casual clothes and messy hair, Annelise headed for the stairs.

Spying Shepard’s N7 hoodie on the coffee table, Sam leaned over to snag it and threw it the woman. She was aiming for her face. “You will pay for this. You will suffer and I will laugh and laugh and laugh.”

The woman easily caught the jacket and nodded her thanks. Annelise stuck one arm through it as she made her way to the doorway. Her voice was sing-song. “Thanks, darling! Enjoy your book!” And with that, Shepard disappeared through the cabin doors.

Samantha scooped up the datapad on the floor after pulling her shirt back down. She was grinding her teeth as she struggled to find her bookmark. But it was useless. Her concentration was broken.

Sighing, Sam headed for the shower and turned the knobs.

Shepard would pay for this.

It was hard to fume all alone in a room for two hours. But Sam found a way, mostly by plotting revenge.

Tickle her to death? …She’s not very ticklish. You are, though. And she’s far stronger.

Spike her coffee? …With what? Some harsh language?

Break… something? …Awfully childish and awfully dickish.

Poison her fish? …Jesus, Traynor. Too dark.

Rearrange the room? …Oh yea, a little feng shui will really show her.

…Pretty much any strategy that involves leaving the cabin with you in your skivvies is out, Traynor. Or anything physical, because she’s Commander bloody Shepard and you’re a wet noodle by comparison.

She has to pay!

The solution is so bloody obvious, Traynor. Outsmart her.

What do you think I’ve been trying to do for the last couple hours?

Whinge and moan, mostly. Think, Traynor. Give her a piece of her own medicine.

Hmmmmmmm.

EDI’s voice came over the intercom once more. [“Per your request, Commander Shepard is on her way back to her quarters. You have approximately 76 seconds until her estimated time of arrival, Specialist Traynor.”]

“Thank you, EDI.”

[“I am pleased to assist.”]

Composing herself back on the couch, Samantha tamed her still-damp hair and propped the datapad on her knees. Also thinking better of it, Sam pulled down one strap of her clean camisole. Just for good measure.

5… 4… 3… 2…

A moment later, the Captain’s Cabin doors swished open and Annelise Shepard strode back inside.

“Welcome back, darling. A good call, then?” Sam asked, her voice light and airy. She stared at the datapad, the words blurred together and nonsensical at this point. Her fingers stroked a mug of tea at her side, the scent of honey drifting up with the steam.

“The usual. Some unusual Reaper activity to investigate,” Annelise replied, her footsteps timid as she approached the stairs. “Look, Sam… about before—“

Sam cut her off, a sweet smile pulling her cheeks. “Oh, don’t worry about it, Shepard. Duty calls and all that. I completely understand.”

“So you’re not mad?”

Still not looking up, Samantha asked, “What is there to be mad about?”

Just you working me up and leaving right when things got good? It’s fine, you tosser. Just fine.

“Okay… if you’re sure. I didn’t mean to just… We could pick up where we—?“

“Forgiven and forgotten, darling,” Sam interrupted again, this time allowing her eyes the barest flick upward. “Part of the life we chose, since you’re rather important to this whole war effort business.” She even managed a wink.

“True…”

Sam smiled sweetly at Annelise, who dug her toe in the stairs with a sheepish smile back. “Why don’t you work on that new model you picked up at the Citadel? Give me a chance to finish my book?” Sam asked as she saluted with her mug of tea.

“Okay…” Annelise trailed off fretfully but didn’t argue. She sidestepped over to her desk just above where Sam sat on the couch.

The woman sounded so genuinely apologetic that Sam almost started to feel bad about being pissy.

…Almost.

Sipping her honeyed tea, Samantha carefully listened from her vantage point on the couch. A scrape of plastic on a container, the rustle of sheets of ship parts, the snap of the clasp on Shepard’s model assembly tools… Annelise had started a ritual of her own.

But not just yet. She was waiting for the right moment.

She knew it well. She’d seen it so many times before. There was this threshold of investment that Shepard had to cross in her brain, where she went from distant to completely absorbed.

Forever all-in, and all that.

It happened in battle (usually immediately). It happened when Shepard was studying the galaxy map for their next objectives. It happened when she played chess or a video game or watched a movie with Sam. Or when they made love.

There would be this intense line of focus across Annelise’s brow, her mouth would get small, and those green eyes would sparkle with ferocity.

It even happened when Shepard was building her ship models… usually around 15 minutes into the process. Just enough time for her quick mind to assess all the pieces and start to build.

Standing up to stretch, Samantha tried to be casual as she glanced over at Annelise at her desk (through the glass case of already-built models).

There she was. Gaze focused. Shoulders hunched. Fingers nimble.

Time to strike.

Sam mumbling something about needing to pee as she made her way over to the bathroom. Annelise didn’t so much as glance over, though she did make a vaguely acknowledging grunt-and-nod.

She gave the toilet a hand wave to trigger the flush sensor before creeping back around behind Shepard.

This was the hard part that Sam had labored over in her mind. She couldn’t just sneak attack the woman. That was the fastest way to get accidentally punched in the face from those marine reflexes.

No, it had to be casual. Make Annelise aware of her presence but still suspect nothing until it was too late.

Clearing her throat, Sam slid along the side of the L-shaped desk closest to the bathroom. “I was thinking of grabbing lunch later. Maybe see Allers after? Talk about her awful smut-book?”

“Sounds good, darling,” Annelise muttered back, her shoulders twitching as she worked.

Hmmmm…

Sam narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as she approached Annelise’s right elbow. “I was also thinking of taking off all my clothes and dancing naked in the drive core. I hear the radiation is great for your skin.”

“Sounds good, darling,” Annelise repeated, her voice a disinterested mumble.

Perfect.

There was this one spot, just behind the woman’s right ear near her neck, that drove Annelise wild. It was there Sam focused her effort. Running her hand gently up Shepard’s elbow, Sam leaned in as she pushed the short red hair back.

“Does it ‘sound good, darling?’” Sam echoed with a husky whisper before flicking her tongue over That Spot. She then blew a small breath where her tongue had touched and saw goosebumps raise.

The response was immediate. A sharp intake of breath and Annelise’s shoulders stiffened.

But Sam didn’t stop there. Her left hand wandered along the other side of Annelise’s neck and slipped in under her hoodie. A line was drawn with a fingernail down her collarbone to a breast. Just as the hand drew lower, Annelise turned in her chair to kiss Sam. Hard.

Sam felt herself pulled into Shepard’s lap. She grinned as the woman again captured her lips in a deep, lip-biting kiss.

Annelise pulled away, her mouth ghosting over Sam’s with light almost-bites. She whispered, “I knew you weren’t going to let me off so easy.”

“What can I say? I hold a grudge,” Samantha replied with a wink. “Especially when you don’t let me be useless.”

An exhale-laugh. “I promise to… try to be better. It’s just so hard to—“ Annelise trailed off, her nose wrinkling in consideration.

“Give yourself a moment to breathe? To think?” Sam supplied. She traced a fingertip along Annelise’s jaw. “Building a model or reading a book doesn’t mean you’re not 100% dedicated to the war effort, love.”

The woman frowned, but didn’t argue with Sam’s words. She gave a begrudging shrug. “Maybe you’re right…”

“I’m always right,” Samantha confirmed with a grin and nose-kiss.

Annelise smiled warmly and kissed Sam’s nose back. “Thank God I have a smart ass Comm Officer around to keep me in line.” Her eyes sparkled wickedly as she leaned back in. “Now… where were we?”

And with that, Sam stood up with a theatric yawn. “I just remembered, I need to go talk to Allers about this awful book I borrowed. You understand, right? Darling?” That last word had a hard edge.

She patted Annelise’s cheek condescendingly before turning on her heel and headed for the doors. There was a small pop accompanied by a flash of blue light. Suddenly, Annelise was standing directly in front of Sam in the hallway, crackles of biotic threads fading from around her body.

“Oh?” Sam asked airily. “Something you needed to tell me?” She smiled back with mock-sweetness.

“Something I needed to show you, actually,” Annelise said before scooping up Samantha and carrying her back to the bed.

The doors swished shut behind them.

#ren writes #downtime drabbles #nanowrimoren #samantha traynor #annelise shepard #shaynor #femshep #Mass Effect #fanfic #fluff

31 notes · View notes

hrcamping · 7 years

Text

Safe - Chapter 9 - Shoot

Yay, let's terrify everyone.

AO3 Link

Chapter 1

Again, how do guns work? Please tell me I'm not screwing it up too badly.

Enjoy!

Max was woken up by someone violently shaking his shoulder. That someone turned out to be Nikki.

A panting, teary-eyed Nikki who was all but yelling at him and Neil to get up.

“Mmuuuh,” Neil groaned blearily, rubbing at his eyes whilst Nikki kept telling him to hurry up. “Nik, whu’z goin’on?”

“We need to get out of here,” Nikki said, her voice trembling, and Max knew immediately that something was very, very wrong. Next to nothing scared Nikki like this. “Th-there’s this thing in the woods. G-Gwen led it off, but we need to get to the Quartermaster so he’ll help her.”

“‘Thing?’” Max echoed as he pulled on his hoodie with as much haste as he could muster at this hour. “Nikki, what’re you talking about?”

“I almost got eaten by a monster and now it’s after Gwen!” Nikki spat, her breathing shaky and harsh. “She told me to get you and tell the Quartermaster so he can help her! Now get off your fucking asses!”

Oh, shit, Max thought dumbly. This really is serious.

Even Neil knew to pick up the pace now. Throwing on a jumper, he barely had time to slip on his shoes before Nikki hauled him out of the tent and the three of them were racing as fast as they could to the Quartermaster’s hut, just within the outskirts of the woods. Nikki was pounding on the door and yelling in an instant.

“Quartermaster! Quarter-Ach!”

The door opened, and Nikki fell flat on her face at the old man’s feet.

“I’ll get the shovel,” the Quartermaster said automatically, turning back inside.

“There’s a monster after Gwen!” Nikki gasped, on her feet. “This… this big white wolf-thing and it tried to kill me and Gwen told me to get you because David isn’t here!”

Max felt the air around them all still.

Wolf…

David…

“I’ll get my gun,” the Quartermaster said matter-of-factly. “Get inside.”

The kids did as they were told. None of them had been in the Quartermaster’s actual hut before, and Max was surprised to find that it was quite neatly organised. Boxes, clothes lockers and shelves lined the walls, there was a potbelly stove in one corner, a single shuttered window and a small bed with worn-looking covers. The old man had limped over to a workbench and picked up a hunting rifle.

“Was it a big one?” He asked, as he dragged a cleaning tool through the muzzle of the gun.

“Really big, like a bear,” Nikki said shakily, the adrenaline rush having died down. Behind her Neil was giving everything in the hut suspicious looks.

The Quartermaster finished cleaning his gun, checked it over with one final nod, and grabbed a pack from beneath the bench.

“Stay here till one of us comes back,” he said, walking towards the door.

“You’re leaving us here?!” Neil squawked, eyes wide. “When there’s a rabid wolf on the loose?!”

“Not a wolf, Neil!” Nikki spat.

“Safer for you here,” the Quartermaster grunted, halfway out of the door.

“Wait,” Max called, racing over. “I’m coming with you.”

“No, you ain’t.”

“I know how to handle myself around wolves,” Max bristled.

“It’s not a fucking wolf!” Nikki shouted again, but she went ignored.

“You know how to handle yourself around David,” the Quartermaster corrected, hook waving dangerously close to Max’s face.

“What’s the difference?”

“This one attacked your friend. David’s lot don’t go after folk without good reason. Either this one is feral or they just don’t care ‘bout nothin’. Safer for you to stay here.”

“But David-.”

“Would rip me limb from limb if I let you come with me. Don’t you underestimate him, boy. He may be sweet in front of you, but I’ve seen him fight off bears when protectin’ his own an’ come out the better.”

Max opened his mouth to protest further, but a menacing glare from the Quartermaster shut him up.

“Good. Now stay here.”

“You can’t just leave us here alone!” Neil screeched. “What if… whatever chased Nikki comes back?!”

Grumbling, the Quartermaster turned to look back at Max.

“Your dad teach ya to use a gun yet?” he grunted.

“He taught me gun safety last year,” Max shrugged. “But not how to point and shoot.”

“Eh. Good enough. There’s a pistol in the blue box beneath my bed. A little out of use, but as long as you don’t waste those bullets, y’should be set up.”

“Okay.”

“What about me?” Neil demanded.

“Swords; third locker from the bed. You can poke it.”

Spluttering in outrage, Neil waved his arms about in all directions, even as the Quartermaster left and locked the door behind him.

Max didn’t say anything as he began searching under the bed for the pistol.

“David taught you to use a gun?” Nikki asked, sitting on the bed above him and showering dust and insect wings over his head.

“There was a kid who invited people out hunting with him and his dad when he first moved into the neighbourhood last year,” Max coughed, dragging the metal box out of the shadows. “David taught me gun safety, just in case I got asked. Never did, but hey, better safe than sorry.”

“But can you shoot a bitch?” Neil asked saltily, yanking open the locker that the Quartermaster had pointed out. It rattled in protest before snapping open, and several sharp swords came tumbling out. Neil ran off with a manly squeal.

“I play first person shooters on Xbox,” Max smirked.

“If that thing shows up, I’m kicking you into its mouth.”

“Not if you butcher yourself.”

“Fuck you.”

“No thanks.”

Jen was half-asleep in her truck when the first crack of a gunshot split through the woods and startled her into wakefulness. Sat bolt upright, she didn’t move until the echo had died down into nothing, and the only sounds left were the chirping of grasshoppers and rustling in the undergrowth.

What the fuck are hunters doing out this late? she wondered, furrowing her brow. God, she hoped no one had gotten the bright idea to try hunting on the island.

No... she was pretty sure the only people dumb enough to trespass on private property were LaVeyan Satanists and their overzealously religious werewolf friends.

Still... she couldn't help but feel anxiety tying knots in her gut and a sudden lack of safety nagging at her. Frowning, she got out of the truck and sat down in the bed. Looking around, she leaned against the door and willed the hours away. Her phone said that it was just after midnight, but she'd learned from nine months of observation that Daniel wouldn't turn back for another two hours.

It would be a while before she received the text from Daniel saying she could pick him up.

BANG!!! BANG BANG BANG!!!

She snapped to attention, eyes wide as she looked around her. That... didn't sound good.

" Yyeeaaaagh !"

That... sounded wrong...

"Awrooooooo..."

BANG!!

Shit...

Jen's heart shot up to her throat, and before she knew it, she was reaching for the gun in the bag behind her. She recognised that howl, and it wasn't coming from the island.

Daniel was on the mainland.

With a loaded shotgun strapped to her shoulder and an ammo bag clipped to her waist, Jen got up and started running into the thick trees. Of course. She should have fucking known, that Daniel, who turned into a fucking dog once a month, could fucking swim. Yeah, he hated water normally, but she should've known that the animal that took over didn't have the same qualms.

Now someone was going to die because she'd been careless.

Heart pounding, she leapt over fallen logs, stomped through shallow streams and charged through bushes, hoping against hope that whoever she'd heard screaming wasn't dead by the time she found them.

“Fuck off!” Gwen shrieked, pausing her headlong assault through the trees just long enough to take aim again and fire another bullet at the werewolf on her heels. The ground in front of exploded in a shower of dirt and desiccated roots, but this time, the wolf didn’t stop and she was forced to keep running on burning legs. “Dammit!”

Behind her, the wolf was a slavering mass of white, streaked with red where several bullets had already grazed across its sides.

Gwen had never come across a feral before, but from what David had told her, this was definitely one of them.

“So, the pop culture monsters are actually a thing?”

“It… depends. If you were to attribute real life knowledge to those scenarios, then the behaviour would be explained by stress and abuse at the hands of humans. See, the wolf would associate humans with danger based on its human experiences , and they’ll either try to get away from it or decide to… get rid of it first. It’s rather primitive logic, but… it is what it is.”

Gwen wondered what this one had been through to hate humans so much.

Well, you did shoot it and call it a motherfucker.

… besides that.

Then her foot caught on something and she went flying. Her impact with the ground knocked the air out of her lungs and sent the gun skittering away, out of reach.

"No, dammit!" She croaked weakly, trying to pull herself towards the gun with shaky arms. Behind her, the wolf snarled and came closer.

She could feel its hot, wet breath puffing against the back of her neck. See the teeth, feel them biting down on her flesh and tearing, eating,-.

CRACK!!

A howl of agony thundered into her eardrums, and she winced. Something wet spattered across her back, but she didn't waste time figuring out what happened and hauled herself up onto her feet, surprised that she could hold her own weight.

She looked back.

The wolf's pelt had a fresh stain of red blooming across its shoulder, deeper and more vibrant than the ones she'd made. Behind it, she caught the sight of ratty moustache and the glint of a metal hook in the moonlight.

She never thought she'd ever be glad to see the Quartermaster in the middle of the woods with a gun in his hand.

Eyes gleaming with cold malice, the wolf turned towards the Quartermaster, who remained unfazed. Lips peeled back in a growl, it limped towards him.

He aimed the gun between its eyes, and Gwen felt her heart twist.

There was more thudding and the cracking of branches. She saw blonde hair and a denim jacket.

"Daniel, don't!"

Again, the wolf froze in place, and again, its eyes locked onto the newcomer.

Another human. Yellow and blue. The shine of more metal. It smelled of sweet burning and man, and it knew this one

Where where where

H urt G et rid of it

The wolf leapt towards it, jaws open wide. High screams rang in the wolf's ears.

"DANNY NO!!"

In that single, terrifying instant, Jen saw red.

>:D

Do you hate me for the cliffhanger chapters yet?

#camp camp #camp camp fanfic #cc max #cc nikki #cc neil #cc quartermaster #cc gwen #cc daniel #cc david #cc jen #werewolves #blood #mild violence #guns #safe fanfic

7 notes · View notes

bellatrixobsessed1 · 7 years

Text

Farms, Fairs, and Fame (Part 2)

Let me know how I’m doing on the accents. As I have it set Sokka’s got a full blown one, Azula somewhat does but uses things like ‘to’ instead of ‘ta’ and ‘your’ instead of ‘yer’ and such. Tylee has a bit of an accent. And Mai won’t really have one at all.

Azula perched herself upon the picket fence with an empty tin bucket in hand.

Swinging her legs in the air, she looked at Sokka. “Anythin’ else you need me to do?”

Sokka looked around. “I think that’s ‘bout it.” He took the bucket from her hands and set it to the side. In place of the bucket he rested his own hands. "Thanks fer yer help. Gotta lot more done then I thought I would.”

Azula cocked her head, “you mean I got a lot more done then you thought you would.”

Sokka slung an arm around her neck nearly knocking her off of the fence. With his free hand he playfully drove his knuckles into her head, the way he always did with Katara. Azula wasn’t all that different from her, when it came down to it. They offered the same type of laugh and smile at his playful banter. The only difference was that when Azula fought back, she’d usually have him pinned to the floor until he threw his hands up in a mock surrender. Today, however, was one of those days where she simply let him finish ruffling her hair, maybe offer him a punch to the arm, and carry on talking.

“After all I done did all of the hardest work. All y’all did was carry ‘round some hay. I was actually in the field.” Azula pointed out.

The girl wasn’t wrong, she’d gotten nearly all of the harvesting done. A ton of wheat and even more corn. All he had to do was get Hakoda to double check her work and begin the process of selling the harvest. This year if all went as planned he’d be able to pick and choose which foods the family would keep.

“Ya got any werk you need done on yer own farm? I could help.” Sokka offered.

“Don’t be silly, Sokka. You know that daddy has someone ta do that that for us should ZuZu not finish. But believe it or not, ZuZu usually does get everythin’ done.” Azula shrugged. “I ain’t allowed to have any fun, ‘less I come over here.” She rolled her eyes. “Speaking of, I best get back home. Gotta wash off before daddy gets home. He’ll throw a mighty good fit if he catches me like this.” She motioned to her muddy clothes and knees and dust coated cheeks.

“What’s he got ‘gainst a lil dirt?” Sokka asked. “Shows you bin workin’ hard.”

“It ain’t so much that I been workin’. He’s just getting’ tired of buyin’ me new clothes over ‘n over. I think he’s also tired of waitin’ for the shower.”

“So yer allowed ta werk the fields ‘nd the animals, long as ya don’t git dirty?”

“Som’in like that.” Azula shrugged. “That’s the problem though, can’t get anythin’ done ‘less you get messy.”

"Suppose yer right." Sokka agreed. "But ya can't stay even jus' a lil longer."

"Well, I also told TyLee that I'd help her tend her stables." Azula replied. "I would tell her that somethin' came up, but I think she needs me. Sometimes I think that, that girl can't tell a garden hoe from a rake."

"Maybe I could stop by some time." Sokka suggested.

"Well that's up to you." Azula snatched up her cowboy hat and leapt off of the fence. "I'll see ya 'round, Sokka." She winked.

Sokka watched her walk away until her body became an indistinguishable speck off in the distance.

.oOo.

TyLee gave the reigns two swift flicks. As her horse, a beautiful and graceful gypsy horse, rounded the bend, she hugged her legs tighter to the horse's side. With the swift turn the gypy's mane fanned out. The fur adorning it's four muscular legs fluttering in a similar manner.

She was nearly at the end of her morning ride. All she had to do was bring Kahnim to a stroll and leisurely take the forest route black to the stables. TyLee had been riding Kahnim since she was a little girl and had learned that the horse liked to cool down using the forest route. She took her hand away from the reigns briefly to flip her braid back over her shoulder. "You did good taday." TyLee beamed at the horse, stroking her neck lovingly.

She brought the horse to a halt, listening to the clomp of his hooves against the dusty gravel path. She carefully leapt to the ground and took hold of the reigns again. From there she'd lead the horse back into the stables.

"Looks like Kahnim is gonna get some extra exercise today."

"Azula!" TyLee let go of the horse and ran up to Azula, squeezing her long-time friend in a tight embrace.

"Alright, alright! That's a'nuff Ty." The girl couldn't even begin to fathom why TyLee still got so excited every time she saw her.

"What are you doing here?"

"You asked me to help you get to cleanin' the stables. Remember?" Azula put her hands on her hips, tilting her head slightly so that her bangs fell into her face some.

"Oh yeah. That's right!" TyLee recalled. She gave the horse a few pets, "alright looks like you do get more play time."

The horse whinnied. TyLee sighed, "well we have to clean yer stall, boy, ma and pa have been tellin' me ta do it for a while."

"I suppose it'll be good for him to get the extra outside time, with the big race commin' up 'n all." Azula remarked as she watched the horse trot off to join his companions.

TyLee lead the duo into the stables.

"When did you last clean this!?" Azula scoffed at the stench.

"Oh I'm sorry, Azula! It's been a while. I'm not very good at this." TyLee winced.

"Well you're gonna have to make it up to me sometime." Azula smirked. "How 'bout this? As punishment, you get to muck the stalls. I'll do everythin' else." Azula picked up a stall fork and handed it to TyLee.

"Yer so mean 'Zula." TyLee pouted.

"And ya'll need to learn to clean your stalls more regularly." Azula countered. "Now, you use that", she pointed to the fork, "to get clean out most of the hay. Might need a shovel to scrape what remains. 'N you put it the hay in this here wheelbarrow. After you do that, I'll lay down the new beddin'." At this, Azula snatched up a pitch fork.

Upon noticing TyLee's pout, Azula made another offer. "If you can muck out the stalls, I'll even stick 'round and help you clean the horses themselves."

TyLee considered, tapping her chin. Well it did mean more time with Azula... "Alright, I'll try my best."

Azula rolled her eyes, she'd probably end up finishing the job. But somehow it didn't matter, she'd grab a shower at TyLee's place afterwards and then tell her father that she'd simply decided to give riding a try.

TyLee hugged her again, "thank you so much, 'Zula."

"Work now. Hug later." Azula tilted her hat and pointed at the fork.

TyLee nodded. "So how's Sokka? You see hi. Lastly?"

"Yes I seen 'him. He's doin' well." Azula answered, she'd engage her friend so long as it kept the girl on task.

"Of course you've seen him." TyLee winked.

"I was helpin' him finish some of his field work." Azula replied nonchalantly.

"Right that's what you been doin'." TyLee began making childish kissy faces.

Azula lifted the pitchfork, pretending to hit her with it. "It ain't like that."

"Ain't it?" TyLee giggled, she'd finally gotten her first scoop of hay into the wheelbarrow.

"There ain't nothin' 'tween me and Sokka." Azula insisted.

"If you say so." TyLee shrugged. "Guess next time I wanna know I'll have to ask Mai or Zuko."

"They'll tell you the same." Azula replied. Even so, images of lovely summer nights filled her brain. The ones that had her stomach fluttering pleasantly. Sokka had a certain something about him that Azula liked. Liked more than she normally would. "Ain't nothin', trust me."

"You aren't gonna write a song about him?" TyLee asked.

"I will sit this pitchfork down and leave you to clean this yourself." Azula threatened, knowing good and well that she wouldn't actually abandon TyLee. Not so close to the fair anyways.

She'd put up with the girl's teasing and chatter until the job was done. And then she'd be heading to Sokka's again the next morning. She had been promising him for weeks now, that she'd show him a song or two.

#Avatar The Last Airbender #Fanfiction #Sokkla #Azula #Sokka #Tylee

13 notes · View notes

ribbonshades · 4 years

Text

☆ Jean’s Good Day

“Good morning,” he called as he came down to the kitchen. Amaryllis was scurrying about, packing up her homework from the night before, while Charles lay on the couch watching a video with Toyo. Kaito was nowhere to be seen, though he never liked waking up early anyway.