#if you can imagine Diane from the ground up then you can do his voice 😭😭 please

[the-cat-and-the-birdie]

I've never written out Hobies accent and I never will

listen if you're reading it im assuming you stare at him all day and if you stare at him all day im assuming you know what his voice sounds like

and if you know what his voice sounds like imma need you to go ahead and imagine it for me because i CANNOT be doing all the heavy lifting here

Okay? okay.

#I'm serious. I won't even attempt it #none of that 'ello govna shit #I don't speak British!!!!! #if you try I envy you #if you can imagine Diane from the ground up then you can do his voice 😭😭 please #spiderman #atsv #spider man #marvel #across the spiderverse #hobie brown #spider punk #spiderpunk #hobie x reader #hobie brown x reader #hobie brown x you #hobie brown x y/n #hobie x oc #hobie x you #hobie x y/n #hobie brown x oc

[regularponyfan]

Thoughts on The Bad Guys: A Very Bad Holiday Part 2

“Christmas is officially back on!” And apparently, a city news reporter like yourself has the power to declare a holiday uncanceled. Why is Diane not in this again?

The others’ reactions to Snake getting all touchy-feely 🥹. OMG I WANNA HUG HIM SO BAD!!! (At the same time though, the close-ups on his face during this scene are so off-putting that it kinda ruins the moment for me.)

“That vortex is about to suck in the whole city, we don’t have time to be mad at me.” Sure, Wolf. Act like endangering your only friends isn’t worth getting angry over. You’ve really disappointed me this time. 😔

In all fairness though, at least he does apologize and admits how much the others mean to him. And I love how the other guys pretend to be disgusted but at the same time are moved to tears, while Snake is just like, “Yeah, whatever 😒.” (Even though we all know he’s bawling on the inside.)

The scene right after Shark is tossed out of the vortex without his shirt…the characters look like they’re literally floating off the ground…

That one random guy getting sucked into the vortex is actually pretty funny…in a “WTF is this animation?” kind of way.

“Are you seeing this?” No, Tiffany, all I see is your badly-animated face. Now please get it out of mine. XD

Aww, that’s adorable how the Bad Guys try to save each other from the vortex 😊…Now can we talk about the fact that the animators clearly just took still images of Piranha and Tarantula and moved them around?

How did Shark get his shirt back after all that?

Wolf’s motions as he’s falling out of the Santa bot…again, what is this, the Looney Tunes? Oh and nice dust effect when he lands by the way. I feel like this was made for a PlayStation 2 game, not Netflix.

Wait…so, the promo for this special clearly showed Shark in a Santa suit…but the closest we get to him cosplaying as Santa is him doing a voice. What. 😐

Oh, and since the Bad Guys were exposed to potentially-lethal, freezing temperatures, they all end up sick on Christmas. And Wolf has the gall to complain despite being the reason it happened. Just be thankful it’s only a cold and not frostbite, buddy.

In all seriousness though, I feel bad for them. Like, I wanna make them all better, but mostly Snake. He looks soooo miserable and I can only imagine how as a kid he must have had no one to take care of him when he was sick. That is so heartbreaking. And when he says “Bah humbug” in the middle of sneezing? Awww, poor baby! 🥺

Apparently, Santa really does exist in this universe and the Bad Guys are miffed that they ended up on his Nice List. Which…kinda seems out of character in all honesty. Like…wasn’t them being treated as something other than criminals the reason they turned good in the movie? They’re not disgusted by the concept of good (except maybe Snake); They just don’t understand it. Now I see why people had a problem with this being set before the movie.

And we end with the Bad Guys planning to heist the North Pole…which would have made a much better, much more interesting holiday special. If this does become a series, I hope they make an episode out of that.

And before we get to my final thoughts, let’s see which of my predictions for the special came true:

There will be at least one reference to the Grinch-✅ Yep! And a Die Hard reference, too, surprisingly.

The gang will have a Christmas tree with stolen jewels for ornaments-❌ Nope. I don’t think they had any decorations in their hideout or at least none I could see.

Wolf will get a good tingle from saving everyone’s Christmas-❌ Nope. The opposite happened. He apparently hates the idea of being seen as good now. 🤨

Shark will be a mall Santa-❌ We don’t see him in a mall and the only likeness to the man in red he gives is his voice, so I’m gonna say no.

Piranha will have a holiday-themed musical number-✅ Got that one!

Someone will call Snake a “Scrooge”-❌ Nope. He acts like him and even says “Bah humbug,” but no one outright calls him that.

Also, Snake will secretly hate Christmas because of some past trauma-❌ They don’t say or even imply it, but let’s be honest: we know he has some form of trauma from Christmas.

Diane will only have a cameo-❌ Sadly, no. They were determined to keep her out of this special, apparently.

Luggins and Tiffany will return-Well, this one is half right.

The Bad Guys will have a gift exchange with stolen goods-❌ Nope. Go to luonnonvalinnat for that one ‘cause you ain’t gonna find it here.

Final score: 2.5/10. Wow. Either I don’t know the Bad Guys as well as I thought, or the creators of this potential series don’t know how to write them. Eh. I’m going with the latter.

As for the special itself? It's a 5/10 for me.

Don't get me wrong, I'm glad we got to see the gang again and I'm even more glad we might get to see their shenanigans in a spinoff series some day. And even though it was kinda dumb and there was potential for it to be even better, I didn't mind the story that much. The voice acting is good enough, even if I don't recognize anyone's name except Grey DeLisle. It's the ANIMATION that really kills this thing for me. My god, what a trainwreck. Like, no joke, there were several times throughout this thing where I just wanted to look away because the characters were just...so ugly! I get that this is the result of a low budget, and they couldn't make it as fluid as the movie's animation. The problem, of course, is that the animation in the Bad Guys movie is SO beautifully fluid, even removing like 1% of its fluidity makes it look terrible. They probably should have done what Captain Underpants did and just made the whole thing 2D. At least then it would have looked somewhat appealing.

I don't know, if you haven't seen this special yet and are curious about it, I say just buy the novelization instead, because this alone is not worth a subscription to Netflix. Plus, the novelization includes a bonus chapter of the Bad Guys on New Year's, so there's that. And if you have seen the special, let me know what you guys thought about it. Did you agree with my points? Is there anything I didn't comment on? Let me know that, too.

#the bad guys #dreamworks #mr shark #mr piranha #mr snake #mr wolf #ms tarantula #tiffany fluffit #netflix #netflix series #holiday special #a very bad holiday

[hybrid-the-folf]

What a Wonderful way to Die

TW: Mentions of death

Wood was a borrower, a creature that existed only because of three rules. These rules are as follows: 1. Take only what wouldn’t be missed, 2. Take only what is needed, and 3. Never be seen by a bean. If you happened to break any of these rules then the beans would be after you faster than you’d think. The only way out then would be to run and live in a different house, if you could survive the outdoors that was. If you didn’t happen to make it out, then you’d be killed in a variety of ways. There was always the quick and painless crushing, or the slow and painful torture or poison. All of this was going through Woods' mind as he stood on the desk directly in front of the bean that had captured him. He had only meant to take a paperclip in order to replace the one that had been growing weak at the end of his hook. He had expected the bean to be at work all day, but hadn’t accounted for the fact of them accidentally forgetting something.

Not only this, but the bean had taken one glance at him and had decided to call into work sick that day, saying something about throwing up. Wood didn’t know what this meant, in his mind there were only two possible theories. Either the bean wanted to spend the day to torture him, or the bean was going to help him out for some reason. If Wood was a betting man, then he would have betted on the first option. The bean looked at him with concern in her eyes, an expression that Wood would have never had expected. “Hey little guy, I’m Diane. I don’t know what you are or even if you can understand me, but I am not going to hurt you. I’m here to help in whatever way I can.”

Wood stared up at her in confusion, tears starting to leak from his eyes. She was playing him, and that was one of the worst ways that he could imagine going out. He could deal with being poisoned, or hell, even eaten, but torture was something that his mind wouldn’t allow him to process. “Hey, it’s alright. Nothing’s going to happen to you I can assure you of that. Do you want something to eat or drink? Would that make you feel better? I know you need to eat more going off of how skinny you are, or maybe that's just the way you should be. I wish I knew what you were so that way I can help you. Is there someone like yourself that I can take you to that will be able to help?” She looked at him again with those same worried eyes.

If he could get her out of the room then he’d be able to get away. Having her go and get something to eat and drink, even though he was sure that the food would have been tampered with, was a fantastic way to do just that. He nodded his head and paused for only a moment before saying, “Y-yes, I would like something to drink. My throat is quite parched.”

Diane's head snapped up, eyes wide with wonder. “I wasn’t even sure that you could speak. I’ll go get you something. Stay here, you're quite high up for someone of your stature.” Wood waited a little while after she got up to make sure that she was gone before taking a running start at the edge of the desk. He would have gone for his hook, but he didn’t trust the weak metal to get him down in time.

In all honesty, he didn’t expect to live through the jump, but death was better than a bean. Bracing himself, he ran right off the edge, wind pulling his hair back. As Diane entered the room, she saw Wood plummeting to the ground. As the water cap dropped, her hand snatched at the falling person. In the end Wood was scruffed before he ever reached the ground. The only bit of damage to him was a torn shirt and a bruise across the throat. On one hand he was grateful not to have hit the floor, but more and more fear coursed through his veins as he realized what had happened.

“Are you ok?! What the hell were you thinking?! You could have gotten hurt?! Why did you do this?” Diane's voice softened at the end. “Do you fear me that much?”

Wood didn’t know how to respond. He expected the human to already know the answer as to why, but to be concerned about him was another thing entirely. Hesitantly, he looked up at the gigantic women. Diane didn’t know what to do. On one hand she wanted to see if he was injured anywhere, but on the other she didn’t want to scare him more. Deciding that the best idea was to put him back on the desk and leave the room, she tried to shove her own worry aside. He’d be fine, just as long as she was away, he’d be fine.

Wood’s mind was in hyperdrive at this point. Why did she let him go free? If beans were really as bad as everyone else said, then what was the point in her worry? As the day went by, he debated the logistics of staying. There was the increased risk of being crushed, but there was also the protection and food that a bean, a truly good bean, could provide. In the end he decided on a second shot, it would at least give him some answers.

As Diane walked into the room, she didn’t expect to see the miniature figure standing on the desk. She immediately ducked into a kneeling stance, scared of making him fear her even more. “Why are you still here? I thought you would have left? You're not too badly injured to move, are you?”

“Why are you worried about me?” Woods' voice quivered, nervous about cutting to the chase so quick, but he stood his ground.

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“Because you're a bean. Your kind kills mine for fun. What kind of game are you playing? Why won’t you just end it?” Wood shouted, anger and fear prevalent in his voice. Diane stared at him, horrified.

She gulped before saying, “I don’t know what you’ve been though, but you're safe here. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.” Wood processed this for a moment. Walking back he went into the walls. Thoughts swarmed through his head, but in the end he knew he was coming back. This bean was an oddity, and his mind wouldn’t let him put the puzzle down. He heard the giant woman settle onto bed, but he knew that neither of them would get much sleep, not tonight. Not with the millions of thoughts, millions of possibilities swarming through their heads.

#g/t #g/t thoughts #borrowers #g/t scenario #g/t community

[spencersstrawberryjello]

Shitty Slasher Film (Spencer Reid + gn!MC - platonic)

Summary: SPOILERS FOR SEASON 8 (and minor season 7 spoilers but I figure if you’ve seen season 8 you’ve probably seen season 7 already lmao) MC and Spencer decide to go see a slasher film, but it takes a turn for the worse when the killer begins to stalk his victim. 

Content: Hurt/Comfort (because literally what else do I write at this point)

Warnings: Descriptions of violence, depressive thoughts, and swearing

MC’s name and pronouns: Neither explicitly mentioned

Word Count: 2285

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The plan was simple.

We were going to see a new horror movie in the theaters - it seemed similar to a slasher film that Morgan, Garcia, Reid and I had seen like six or seven months ago, so I didn’t think anything of it when we booked the tickets. Morgan and Garcia couldn’t make it tonight, unfortunately, but we still elected to go on our own, thinking it would be a fun little outing. That was, until the film started.

The lights came up on a woman, walking through a back alley alone, at night. Typical. I even glanced over at Spencer and rolled my eyes a bit, and he grinned at the stereotypical horror movie trope.

She died, of course, and for the first half of the movie I genuinely thought it was going to be exactly what we assumed. We were laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, with the stupid special effects and the subpar acting. But everything went off the rails after the first half of the movie.

The killer had revealed his primary target, his endgame, and - much to my horror - he had begun to stalk her.

Scenes of her creating a disguise, moving houses, throwing away her phone, spun a dark web that I didn’t ever want to think about. But I had more pressing things to worry about than my fear at a movie that was literally intended to make you scared.

I glanced over at Spencer, and I could tell that his breathing had picked up. His hands were gripping the arms of the chair, knuckles as white as his face had turned. I put a hand over his, and his attention snapped to me.

“Hey, are you alright?” I asked him. It was a stupid question, and one I already knew the answer to, but it was the first thing I could think to say. He looked like he was weighing his options for a moment before he shook his head.

“Do you want to leave?” I followed. He nodded, eyes wild, and we quickly grabbed our bags and left, just as the stalker had pulled a gun on his victim. Spencer took one last look at the screen, watching with wide eyes as the victim begged for her life. It was like a trainwreck; he couldn’t take his eyes off the movie, and I couldn’t take my eyes off him as the stalker pulled the trigger, and the woman crumpled to the ground. He practically jumped out of his skin when the gunshots fired, and I grabbed his arm to usher him out.

I didn’t realize the full extent of his panic until we made it out of the theater, bursting through the doors into the significantly brighter lights of the hallway. He immediately sat down on the couch near the doors, head in his hands, breathing rapidly.

“Ok, you’ve gotta breathe, Reid. You’ve gotta breathe, alright? In through your nose, out through your mouth, can you do that?” I adjusted my breathing to fit the pattern, and saw that he had started to slow his as well. “Good, ok… we can sit here for as long as you need to, just focus on your breathing.”

He gave me an almost imperceptible nod, continuing to breathe slowly before lifting his head from his hands. His eyes were red, and it was clear he’d been trying to fight off tears.

“Reid, I’m so sorry -”

It was at that moment that he cut me off with a hug, tucking his head in the crook of my neck as I felt his body lightly shake with sobs. After a second I hugged him back, not used to physical affection from him, but not opposed as long as he was ok with it.

“It reminded you too much of Maeve, didn’t it?” I asked, trying to ensure that the story I had in my head was correct. He nodded, his breath coming in short gasps again, and I hugged him a bit tighter. “Reid, I’m so sorry, I never would’ve suggested this movie if I’d known the turn the story was going to take.”

He shook his head, sucking in deep breaths before finally attempting to speak. “No, no, it’s ok, I know that you wouldn’t have done this on purpose. It’s just…”

He trailed off, but I knew what he was trying to say. “I was there that day, Reid. I know how much she meant to you.”

“The girl in the movie kind of looked like her. You know? Same hair, same face shape… when I saw the fear in her eyes, all I could imagine was Maeve, terrified, with a gun to her head. The woman I love - loved. The woman I loved. Scared, and alone.”

“Oh, Reid… you know it’s not your fault, right? You did everything you could to save her.”

“No. No, I didn’t. I should’ve closed my eyes, I should’ve tackled Diane - hell, I should’ve shot that bitch the minute I walked into the room! Instead I stood there. I stood there while the woman I loved died in front of me, and I didn’t do anything to stop it.”

“Spencer.” I put my hands on his shoulders, pulling back from the hug to look into his eyes. “You absolutely cannot blame yourself for this. What happened to Maeve was horrible, but it was not your fault. And you can’t live your life with that on your conscience.”

“Maybe I deserve to.” His voice was soft as he tucked his head back into the crook of my neck, and I put my arms around him, one hand lightly rubbing his back. My heart broke for the man in my arms - my best friend - as he sniffled, a few stray tears still trickling down his face.

“You don’t deserve to live with that kind of guilt, Spencer. Guilt for something you didn’t even do. And I’m so, so sorry that you feel that way. And I’m so sorry about what happened.”

“Sorry doesn’t make it go away,” He argued, his voice muffled by the fabric of my t-shirt, “Sorry doesn’t bring her back.”

I heard his voice hitch when he said it, and I held him a bit tighter. “I know it doesn’t.”

He was silent for a moment before he spoke again, his voice thick with tears begging to be released. “I just wish I could bring her back.”

It was as if saying it broke something in him, and I felt his body shake as he cried again, consumed by grief and guilt unlike anything I could ever imagine. He was usually so closed off about his emotions that having him crying in my arms was a rare occurrence, even after years of friendship. The last time he was like this was after Emily’s… “death,” and even that wasn’t near as intense.

I wasn’t sure how long we sat on that bench, the orange lights of the movie theater hallway creating a strange liminal sensation as I held Spencer, finally releasing the emotions he’d clearly been pushing away since Maeve’s death.

Eventually, he stopped crying, his breathing returning to something close to normal, and he pulled away from me, his eyes red from tears.

“I’m sor -”

“Nope, do not even start to apologize. There’s nothing to apologize for.”

He closed his mouth, contemplating saying something else for a second before nodding, hugging me again.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, Reid. Do you want to go back to my place? We can order a pizza, and watch a movie - something we know this time. If you need to be alone, I understand, but -”

He shook his head. “I’d like that.”

“Good,” I sucked in a deep breath, trying to steady my own breathing after everything that just happened, “Good. Are you ok to walk to the car?”

“Yeah… I’m not sure how talkative I’m going to be tonight though…” He kind of trailed off, clearly drained, but not wanting to be alone.

“I understand; you know there’s no expectations with me, Reid. If you want to just wrap yourself up in a blanket and eat junk food, I get it. I just want to be there, to make sure that you’re ok.”

He gave me a small smile, and I grinned, grabbing his hand to help him off the bench. We made our way out to my car, and I climbed in, starting it before turning on the radio.

Spencer was pretty much silent the entire drive back to my apartment, the noise in the car mostly consisting of the music and my less than stellar singing. When we finally pulled into the complex, we headed upstairs to my place.

“I’m gonna order the food. Do you wanna find something on Netflix you like?” I asked as I unlocked the door. He nodded, and I threw my keys on the kitchen counter, putting in the pizza order on my computer. I saw him grab a blanket from the basket in the living room, wrapping it around his shoulders and plopping down on my couch.

I expected to return to the living room to see whatever movie we were watching cued up on the TV. Instead, I saw Spencer, staring at the wall across from him, remote untouched on the coffee table.

“Hey,” I sat down next to him, gently putting one hand on his shoulder, “Is there anything else you want to talk about?”

He was silent for a moment, and I could see the mental battle he was fighting. Eventually, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m afraid… I’m afraid that if I allow myself to grieve, if I allow myself to think about what happened, I won’t be able to stop. It’s been almost four months, I thought the pain would be gone by now. But it isn’t, it’s… I just miss her. I miss her so much.”

“I know, Reid. I know.”

He leaned into me, and I didn’t hesitate to wrap my arms around him, the thoughts of pizza and a movie completely abandoned in my mind. Instead, all of my attention was on Spencer as he spoke again.

“On the last case, Rossi talked to me. I told him that I wasn’t sleeping because whenever I did, I would dream of her. Of Maeve. And everytime I saw her, I felt nothing but relief flooding my mind. I told him how she would always ask me to dance, and how I always said no. I never even got to hold her when she was alive, and I was scared that if I gave into the fantasy, I would be lost forever,” He took in a shaky breath before he continued, “And he said I should. He said, ‘just let it happen, Spencer.’ So I did. I danced with her, I held her, and when I woke up, she was all I could think about. The way it felt to wrap my arms around her, the way her head fit perfectly into the crook of my neck while we danced. It took another day before I could think about anything but her, before I could stop wallowing in my grief enough to function. And since that night, I haven’t allowed myself to give into the fantasy again, the fantasy of having her back. I think… I think that if I let it happen again, I won’t be able to come back from it. It’ll just consume me.”

“Spencer…” I trailed off, unsure of what to say. He just shook his head, telling me I didn’t need to say anything as we sat there on my couch in silence. He wasn’t crying, he hadn’t cried since we left the theater. He was just… hollow. Everything that he’d been trying to repress - to compartmentalize - had finally caught up to him, in the form of a shitty slasher movie that we’d gotten cheap tickets to see.

I held him tighter, wishing that I could figure out something to say to comfort him, to take away his pain. But I knew there was nothing I could do. Nothing I could do but just be there.

“Have you ever considered talking to someone? Like, not someone from the team - a professional?” I asked.

“I’ve thought about it. But… we’re experts in human behavior, you know? What’s a therapist going to be able to tell me that I can’t already profile myself?”

“Well, it might be helpful to have a licensed professional to talk to about this stuff. Someone who can actually give you advice on how to handle your emotions. Because as much as I am absolutely here for you no matter what, I’m afraid I’m not great at mental health advice.”

“Yeah… maybe.” He sounded dubious about the idea, and while I wanted to encourage him further, I didn’t want to push him today. So I settled for just gently rubbing his back as he laid in my arms, staring at the wall. Eventually, the doorbell rang, and I got up to get the pizza, bringing it back into the living room and setting it down on the coffee table. By now, he’d sat up, the blanket still pulled around his shoulders, but at least a bit more present.

“Thank you,” He said, for the second time that day. I just smiled at him.

“Of course. I love you, Reid. And I’m always here, whatever you need.”

“I love you too,” He gave me a small smile back before turning his attention to the coffee table, “But I also love food - I’m starving.”

I laughed as I handed him a plate, joining him on the couch as we both dug in.  

#criminal minds #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid hurt/comfort #criminal minds hurt/comfort #spencer reid angst #criminal minds angst #best friends with spencer #platonic spencer reid #platonic hurt/comfort #angst #hurt/comfort #gn!MC #gender neutral mc

[lia-jones]

Growing Together - Chapter 18 - What We Leave Behind

“Listen carefully, my love. You don’t get a say about your life. You don’t get a say about that baby’s life. You don’t even get to decide where you go. I’m the one who decides who stays and who goes, and I decide who gets to live. Let me tell you what I have decided.”

I tried to focus on the file again, trying to let the numbers printed on it grab me. It was useless, I couldn’t concentrate on work. I put the file aside and turned on the TV. I let my eyes zone out on the image, I had no idea what was on. My mind was somewhere else already.

Victor didn’t tell me much about the conversation he had with Gavin after the double date, acting evasive every time I asked, trying to distract me with other subjects. I knew that I wouldn’t get a lot from him, at best a censored version of the truth, so I went straight to the horse’s mouth. I called Mia. Although she seemed very uncomfortable talking about it, most likely coached by Victor to keep silent about it, I managed to pull from her whatever I needed to know.

Apparently, Daniel had seen the article about my engagement and planned his crime very carefully. He bribed one of the caterer workers to gain entrance to the venue, posing as paparazzi. He climbed the tree next to the reception tent, and waited, rifle in hand, hiding from the commotion. His plan was to shoot me as we entered the reception tent, and then run to his hotel room and kill himself. If not for Mia’s careful eye for details, spotting some of the tree decorations fallen on the ground, and if not for her cool head, calling Gavin discreetly and sending us away from danger without as much as a peep, I would have been dead. I owed Mia my life. From that moment on, I was more than willing to give her any interview, any article she could ask for, without hesitation. She was the reason Victor still had a wife, and I lived to see the day I would become a mother. She was the reason Daniel was in prison, unable to hurt me anymore.

It didn’t really surprise me that Daniel would try something. To be honest, I was more appalled as to how I could forget about him. The last time I had seen Daniel, I had faced him for once and practically humiliated him, and Victor had made some very real threats. Obviously he wouldn’t just quit, especially now that his ego was hurt. He wasn't the kind of person to just let that go.

Despite my best efforts to build myself a new life, Daniel had become my curse and I would never be able to get rid of him. It was like I had been invisibly branded, and every time I would find relief and happiness, he would come to remind me that he could still hurt me, that he still owned me in some way. No matter how many roles I played in my life, the happy wife, the mother, the successful career woman, a part of me would always be the battered girlfriend. That was my burden to bear, and I felt like I would have to carry it until my very last breath.

However, there was a silver lining: Daniel was in jail for attempted murder, and he would remain there for at least a couple of years. For now, I was safe, and I could go on living my life. And that’s exactly what I planned to do: live the present and leave the past behind the best I could.

“A penny for your thoughts?”

I jumped from my seat on the sofa, surprised to see my husband looking at me with an amused expression.

“Jesus, where did you come from?”

“Where did you come from?” He chuckled. “You were so distracted you didn’t even notice I sat down beside you.”

“Nowhere in particular.” I took a good look at Victor, noticing his ruffled disheveled hair, the loose tie on his neck, the dark circles under his shiny eyes. “How was work?”

“Are you still worried about that piece of scum?” Victor insisted. “He is in jail, and he won’t leave for a very long time. You have nothing to worry about, I will not let anyone hurt my family.”

“I know.” I moved closer to him, combing his hair with my fingers. “It just… reminded me of old wounds.” I downplayed it. “Now tell me, what was so important that I had to spend my evening minus a husband?”

“A meeting with the board of directors.” He pulled me closer to him. “How did it go with Olive? Do you have a date for releasing the final study?”

“Yeah, we decided to do it next year. There is still a lot of data to be analyzed and there are some cases I want to follow more closely.”

“That’s excellent news.” He gave me a mischievous smile. “I plan on making you a very busy woman this year.”

“Sure, since I’m so tired of twiddling my thumbs.” I joked. “What’s on your mind?”

“I want your educated opinion on creating a branch in Europe. In France, to be more precise.”

“You’re thinking about expanding?” I leaned back, surprised. It was the natural next step, business was going well overseas, but he never mentioned it.

“Do you think the timing is wrong?” He frowned.

“As your consultant, I think the timing is perfect.” I answered, putting on my CEO shoes. “LFG is investing more and more in Europe, it’s only natural that it localizes the operations there. Additionally, companies will trust us more if we are neighbors, even if distant ones. And France is a fertile market for the foreseeable future. It’s a brilliant choice of location for a first branch.”

Victor studied my expression.

“And my wife, what does she think?”

I raised my eyebrows, letting out a heavy sigh.

“Things will be pretty hectic.” I looked down. “You will have to travel a lot. We just got Owen.”

Victor’s lips curved in an understanding smile as he ran his hand softly on my hair.

“Not as much as you would think.” His voice was warm and hushed. “I will always find time for us, no matter how busy I get.”

“Promise?”

“You have my word.” He gave me an earnest look, followed by a playful nudge. “Although it will be nice to not always have an ankle biter bossing me around.”

I pulled him closer, my lips almost touching his.

“Admit it, you can’t live without me.” I whispered.

He brushed my lips with his, his eyes dark with passion.

“Got me there.”

Business in the financial world runs fast, but when it came to LFG and CEO Victor Lee, it surely ran faster: my husband wasn’t one to spend his time on something unless it gave him some kind of advantage. Since LCG was LFG’s consultant, and I already knew the market very well, it was no surprise when, a few days later, I found myself surrounded by folders of potential French clients and my schedule packed with meetings for LFG France. In fact, everyone was a lot busier than usual, and it would be normal for some exhaustion to start to show, but surprisingly, there was more of a feeling of excitement in building something new. My team was clearly up to their heads with work, but they were also happy and willing to help out in whatever way they could.

“Alright, so this is it for today. Go home and get some rest.” I concluded yet another meeting with my analysis team. “If you have any questions, either look for me, or Diane, if I am stranded in a meeting. Do not hesitate to ask for help when in doubt. These clients are crucial for us now and we can’t allow for any slip-ups. Got it?”

Everyone nodded, while they gathered their belongings and left the room. I also took my things, going to my office to answer some last minute emails until Victor came from picking Owen from school. At my office door stood a very nervous Kenny.

“You have someone here to see you.” He announced, looking jumpy.

“Well, it can’t be Victor, he left to pick Owen up.” I joked, knowing how nervous my husband made him.

“No… Actually… The lady says she’s your son’s grandmother?”

I felt the blood freezing in my veins. The woman my son’s mother had run away from all her life, the one she had tried to hide her son from, had found us. And God only knew what she had in mind.

I took my phone and stared at it for a moment, wondering if I should call Victor. He was probably driving to Owen’s school, he wouldn’t be much help, and all I would manage was to worry him. The best would be just to talk to the woman and find out what she wanted.

“Send her in.” I prepared myself for battle. I didn’t know what she wanted, but it was probably no good.

From what I had read from Rebbeca’s letter, I imagined her mother much differently than how she presented herself. She was elegant, well dressed, hair impeccable and sporting perfectly natural make-up. She didn’t seem like someone who had given birth in an old car, or who had lived in a trailer park with a drunken boyfriend that molested her daughter. If anything, she looked like my mother.

“Thank you for seeing me, Mrs. Lee.” She calmly extended her hand. “Pamela Cole.”

“How can I help you?” I cut to the chase, uninterested in pleasantries.

“I heard you are going to adopt my grandson, Owen.” She looked at the chair in front of my desk, waiting for me to invite her to sit. I didn’t sit either. She wasn’t welcome there, and I wanted to make this visit as brief as possible.

“That still doesn’t tell me why you are here.” I retorted, unwilling to let my guard down.

“I want to see my grandson.” She asserted.

“No.” It came out before I could stop it.

“He is my grandson. I have the right.” She shot back.

“Why now? He spent a year in an orphanage, you never tried to see him once.”

“I didn’t know my daughter had passed away. It was only when I hired a private investigator to look for her that I found the truth.” Her voice caught on her throat. “My poor baby.”

I kept silent, looking at her, my walls fully up. She fidgeted with her purse.

“I imagine Owen is doing well with his new family, and I will be the last to interfere with that.” She continued with a pleading tone. “I just want to see him once. I want him to know that I exist, that he has a background. So one day, when he is older, if he wants to find out more about his family of origin or his mother, I can tell him all about her.”

“His mother spent her very short life trying to keep him away from you. She specifically said the social services shouldn’t look for the next of kin.” I gave her my best hard look. Her eyes instantly filled with tears.

“I can’t say I was a good mother, I was not. I was a terrible mother, because I had a terrible mother myself and I didn’t know how to be a good one.” A tear escaped her eyes. “I became a monster, with a heart filled with hatred and selfishness. But if I didn’t give, it was because I didn’t have anything to give.”

She paused for a moment, trying to compose herself. Despite my best efforts to keep my defenses up, I couldn’t help but feel sorry for her.

“All the mistakes I made, I paid for them.” Tears kept rolling down her face. “I have lost my child, can you imagine a greater price to pay? She was all I had left that was good in my life, and I sought her out to ask for her forgiveness, only to find out she was dead. Owen is all I have left. Let me at least see him once, and ask him for forgiveness.”

I didn’t know what to say, torn between protecting my son and giving him a chance to meet his real family. I looked at the time, it was 5:50. I took my coat from the hanger, moving towards the door.

“I’m sorry, Mrs. Cole, but I need to ask you to leave, I-”

“You are a mother now, you know what it feels like.” She held my hand. “If you did wrong to your son, and his son was the only thing you had left of him, wouldn’t you do everything to make it right? Owen is my last chance. A visit, that’s all I ask.”

My phone buzzed, it was a text from Victor.

We are almost there. Get ready.

“Mrs. Cole, if you want to do right by your daughter, respect her wishes. Stay away from Owen. Now, If you’ll excuse me, I have to leave.” I opened the door of my office, waiting for her to exit.

I was suddenly out of breath, my mind reeling with the new events. I tried hard to make sense of what had happened, tried to reach a conclusion but none would come. I just could feel the tightness in my chest. When I looked at my hands, they were shaking.

For some reason, I couldn’t tell Victor right away. On the drive home, I let myself sit on the luxurious leather upholstery, go only where my mind wanted me to go, watching the city lights outside, the banter between Victor and Owen as background to my thoughts.

“Mr. Sawyer called me to his office again today.” That piece of information quickly took me out of my stupor.

“Again?” I couldn’t help the venom in my voice. “What did that idiot want?”

Victor glanced at me sideways, surprised by my sudden outburst.

“What did he want?” He asked, his tone way calmer than mine.

“To apologize for accusing me of stealing the geode.” Owen chirped, happy. “I said it was ok, that Mom always says we should be forgiving with ignorant people, they don’t know better.”

Victor let out a hearty laughter. Me, on the other hand, could feel the blood rise to my cheeks.

“You said it like that?” I turned to my son, stunned. “What did he say?”

“He got really red and sent me to recess.” Owen shrugged. “Did I do something wrong?”

“You did absolutely nothing wrong.” Victor chimed in. “You didn’t say he was ignorant. If the shoe fits, it’s his problem.”

“So you support this?” I glared incredulously at Victor. “Like father, like son: no filter whatsoever.”

Victor was too amused to care for my scolding, still chuckling at Owen’s boldness. I resumed my meditative state. I felt exhausted.

“It wasn’t that bad.” He took his hand from the gear shift, lacing his fingers with mine. “But Mom is right, Owen. Although some things may be true, doesn’t mean we should say them.”

“Thank you.” I pretended to be upset, but couldn’t help my smile. “I wish I was there to see it.”

“To be a fly on the wall…” Victor declared, making us both laugh.

Back at home, helping Victor cook dinner and hearing about his day, I was able to relax a little. Victor in the kitchen was a totally different person, relaxed and witty, making silly puns to make me or Owen laugh, or humming some tune while he prepared the food. It was a treat to see him like that, juggling spice jars and tapping the lids of the pots with spoons, letting all his silliness come out for us to see. I couldn’t help but watch him in endearment, laughing to myself when he would catch me staring and blush slightly, my heart slowly letting go of all the problems, focused on feeling this bliss instead.

However, as we were kissing Owen goodnight, the tightness in my chest returned. I had to tell Victor about the unexpected visit I got, and I had no idea how to go about it. Whose side was I on? Part of me found that Owen had the right to know more about his family of origin, his culture, his heritage, and even build a healthy bond with his grandmother. If she really had changed, if she saw the error in her ways, they both deserved that chance. But what if she didn’t change? What if I would open a door, only to have a lot of ugliness coming into our lives, into my son’s life? I couldn’t risk that.

I went to the kitchen under the pretense of making us tea to give my heart some time to figure out all it was feeling. And to build the courage to tell Victor. My guess was he wouldn’t like it one bit.

“Are you listening?” He startled me once again, making me drop the wooden box I was holding, sending tea bags everywhere.

“Bell. You definitely need that bell.” I snapped, while I arranged the tea bags back in the box. “What were you saying?”

“You’ve been acting strange since I picked you up from work.” I could feel his eyes studying me as I turned to get the boiling water. “Something is clearly upsetting you.”

“Upsetting me? No, what makes you say I’m upset?” I played dumb, trying to buy myself some time.

“You rub your forehead when you’re upset.” He said matter-of-factly. “Will you tell me why?”

“Which flavor do you want?” I showed him the box, unable to look at him for some reason.

“Why are you upset?” He insisted. “Is it still because of that spineless prick?”

I sighed in resignation, knowing all too well Victor would not drop the subject, especially knowing he was on to something. Apparently he understood that I was about to spill the beans, as he patiently waited for me to finish preparing the tea and sit on the counter next to him.

“Someone came to visit me today.” I started.

“Can you please get to the point already?” He was starting to get exasperated. “Who visited you?”

I braced myself for impact, not really sure why.

“Owen’s grandmother.”

Victor stared at me for a moment, although I knew he wasn’t seeing me at all. I could almost hear the wheels turn inside his head, analyzing all the implications of such a visit. In a second, his relaxed expression was gone, replaced with a steely look and his characteristic poker face.

“What does she want?” Victor’s eyes were set on the counter as he spoke, cold and emotionless.

“She says she has changed, and was looking for her daughter to reconcile, when she found she was dead. She wants to see Owen.”

“You told her no.” It wasn’t a question, it wasn’t a statement. It almost felt like a warning.

“I told her Rebecca didn’t want her seeing Owen, and that she should respect her wishes.”

“Did she say anything about the adoption?”

“Only that she knew we were adopting him and she knew he was safe, and that she wouldn’t interfere with it.” I sighed. “Victor, I think she has really changed. She wants to do well by Owen.”

“You want to let her see him?” He frowned at me.

And there it was, the reason why I had been so nervous the entire time. I was indeed inclined to facilitate things, and I knew Victor wouldn’t be. I was afraid we would fight.

“You believe in her?” He raised his voice, seeing I was hesitant to answer.

“I believe people can make terrible mistakes, but they can also change. I’ve seen it countless times with my mother’s patients.” I kept my tone calm, hoping Victor would adjust his. “Besides, it’s his grandmother.”

“Correction: it’s his abusive grandmother, who his mother tried to keep away from him. In fact, we have a letter stating exactly that, that she doesn’t want her mother near her son. So no, she doesn’t get to visit him.”

I suddenly remembered the reason why I came to Loveland, to make a life for myself, to let go of my past, and still it followed me wherever I went. And even though the circumstances were different, even though Pamela was the abuser and not the abused, I couldn’t help but feel angry at the thought that she was trying to do the same thing I did, make a better life for herself, only to have her past following her as well. And that, I could not tolerate.

“So what? She gets endless punishment for her sins? She doesn’t have the right to turn her life around, correct her mistakes?”

“Not this again, Andrea.” He shook his head. “This is just like my father, you wanted us to allow him to get closer, look where it brought us.”

“So now I’m supposed to take the blame for your father’s actions?” I raised my voice. “All I wanted was for you to have a good relationship with him! All I did was for your happiness!”

“I almost punched my father on our wedding day! How much happiness do you think that brought me?”

“Well, I’m sorry, Victor, I really am!” I threw my hands in the air. “I’m sorry I convinced you to give your father a second chance, and I’m sorry he didn’t take it! I am really sorry that he was such a prick, but that is not an excuse to act like one!”

My voice echoed through the apartment, only to be met with silence. Victor stared at me, eyes wide, surprised at my outburst, while I paced back and forth, trying to calm myself down.

“We are going about this the wrong way.” He spoke softly after a while. “Come here.”

I kept on pacing.

“Andy, come here. I don't want to fight.” He pulled me by the wrist to stand in front of him. I couldn’t even look him in the eyes, still feeling somewhat frustrated.

“Look at me.” He held my chin softly, coaxing me into looking at him. “I don't blame you for my father’s actions, and I don’t blame you for trying to bring us closer. I know you meant well.”

Victor pulled me closer to him, enveloping me with his strong arms. I couldn’t help but melt in them, my anger suddenly gone.

“See, this is the exact reason why I fell in love with you, and incidentally why you fell in love with me. You have this ability to see the best in people, their potential, even if they can’t see it themselves.” He spoke into my hair, gently, while one of his hands laced its fingers with mine. “But sometimes, there is no best. There is no potential. Some people simply won’t change, even if they try to convince you they will. It’s just wishful thinking.”

I closed my eyes, feeling the warmth of his chest. He wasn’t being a prick, he was being protective, like he always was. And I loved him for it.

“So maybe instead of a final no, we can decide for a not yet.” He continued. “I will do some research on the grandmother, see if she really turned her life around like she says she did. But until then, we respect Owen’s mother’s last wishes. What do you say?”

“I say I’m sorry.” My voice trembled slightly. “For calling you a prick. I don’t know why I’m so invested in this, but I am. I got carried away.”

“Because you have a kind heart and you believe in happy endings.” He smiled warmly at me. “There is nothing wrong with that.”

He was right. I did believe in happy endings. More than that, I desperately needed to believe in reinvention, and in becoming a better person, worthy of a better outcome. Because, in fact, that was all I was hoping for me. To let go of my past fully, and embrace my future with my new family. To fully let go of the Andrea I was before, and be the Andrea I fought so hard to be.

#mldd fanfic #mlqc fanfic #love and producer fanfic #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc victor #mldd victor #mister love queens choice #mister love dream date #love and producer #victor X oc #Growing Pains - Series #growingtogether

[thelastspeecher]

Angela Pines AU - The Favorite

I had another bit that I was going to write before I posted this, but I spent a good chunk of my day today working on a job application and I’m craving some sweet, sweet writer’s validation, so I’m posting it now.

(Btw, a reminder, I wouldn’t mind an ask or two for this AU...nudge nudge wink wink.)

———————————————————————————————————–

              “Mr. and Mrs. Pines?”  Filbrick and Caryn looked over at Angie’s kindergarten teacher. “May I have a word with you?”

              “Fine, but you better make it quick,” Filbrick rumbled, crossing his arms.  The teacher glanced at Angie, obediently standing with her parents.

              “Alone.”

              “Go play with your friends for a bit, angel,” Caryn said.  She gently shooed Angie away.  At five, she was firmly settled in with the family, despite looking less and less like a Pines with every passing day.  Her hair was golden and silky, unlike the Pines dark brown curls, and it was already evident she would be slender, not broad-shouldered.

              “What is it?” Filbrick asked the teacher.

              “Well, I had my suspicions on Angela’s first day of class, but I decided to wait until the first week was over to be sure.”

              “Be sure of what?” Caryn asked.

              “Your daughter is remarkably advanced for her age. The only other child I’ve seen as intelligent as her was your son, Stanford.”  Filbrick and Caryn exchanged a look.  They’d noticed Angie’s smarts, but weren’t sure whether they were imagining it due to their fondness for the girl.  “However, she has behavioral problems not unlike Stanley’s.”

              “My daughter’s behavior is perfect,” Filbrick growled.

              “She’s well-behaved, yes,” the teacher said, quickly backtracking.  “But she’s struggling to make friends with her classmates, and she’s hyperactive and distractible.”

              “All children her age are,” Caryn said.

              “Angela is more hyperactive and distractible than her classmates,” the teacher said firmly.  “I’m not sure why, but I wonder if it might be due to anxiety.  Anxiety in girls sometimes manifests in that way. Have you noticed her being particularly anxious at home?”

              “She had a traumatic event happen when she was three,” Caryn said after a moment.  “I wouldn’t be surprised if that caused her to have anxiety.”  The teacher nodded.

              “I’d recommend scheduling an appointment with her pediatrician, just to get her checked over.  The sooner she gets help, the better off she’ll be.”  The teacher walked away.  Angie, who had been watching the conversation curiously, rushed over.

              “What was that about?” she asked.  Filbrick ruffled her hair.

              “Nothing, angel.  Your teacher was just telling us how smart you are,” he said.  Angie beamed at him.  Her smile was gap-toothed right now, as she was just beginning to lose her baby teeth.  “C’mon, your brothers are waiting in the car.”  Angie eagerly ran off.

              “If she’s as smart as Stanford, Angie could be something great,” Caryn whispered to Filbrick as they followed at a more sedate pace.

              “We already knew she was special,” Filbrick rumbled.

              “Well, yes.  But a smart girl like her could be a splendid nurse.”  Filbrick tensed.

              “No.  No daughter of mine is gonna go into nursing.  I don’t want her dodging attacks from druggies or cleaning bedpans.”

              “Maybe a teacher, then,” Caryn suggested. Filbrick nodded.

              “Yes.  Teaching would be good for her.  We need better teachers in this world.”

              “Though, it’s worth mentioning that teaching doesn’t pay much.”

              “She’ll be able to land a doctor or lawyer.  Her husband can support her.”

              “That’s a good point.”  Caryn frowned thoughtfully.  “Hmm, maybe she could be an art or music teacher.  She likes singing and painting.”  Filbrick nodded again.

              “I agree.  We should do what we did for Stanford.  Sign her up for the things she’s good at, make sure that she becomes amazing at them.”

              “Yes.  We need to encourage her intellect.”  Caryn grabbed Filbrick’s hand and laced her fingers with his.  “We’re so blessed, Filly, to have such a wonderful family.” Filbrick grunted wordlessly in response, eliciting a soft chuckle from his wife.

-----

              Stan sat behind the counter, idly polishing new inventory for display.

              “Thank you!” Angie chirped cheerfully.  The customer she had been speaking to left. Angie looked up at the clock. “That’s the last one of the day.” She went over to the door and flipped the sign over to read “CLOSED”.

              “Stanley!” a voice shouted.  Stan sighed.  He looked over.

              “Yes, Pops?” he asked.  Filbrick, who had just come downstairs, glowered at him.

              “Why was your sister running register on her day off?”

              “She asked,” Stan said simply.  “And since she’s good at it, I figured she might as well.” He bit back the urge to point out that Angie was the only one who didn’t have to work in the shop every day. Filbrick sighed.  He looked at Angie.

              “Angel, on your day off, you shouldn’t be in the shop, fleecing rubes.  You should be practicing your painting.”

              “I like working in the shop,” Angie said. She took a deep breath.  “And, actually, Pops, I was thinking…”  She took another breath.  “I think I’d like to run the shop.  Once- once you step down.”

              “No,” Filbrick said shortly.  Stan’s eyes widened.  Very rarely was Filbrick so firm with Angie.  Judging by her expression, Angie was just as shocked as Stan. “Angela, running a shop like this is a man’s job.”  Angie clenched her hands into fists.

              “What- what makes you say that?”

              “You’re a very talented and wonderful young lady, but you won’t be able to take care of the shop like your brothers could.”

              “Why not?”

              “I already explained myself.  It needs a man to run it.  And when you get married, your last name won’t be Pines anymore anyways,” Filbrick said.  Angie ground her teeth.

              “Maybe I don’t want to get married,” she snarled. Filbrick stiffened.  “I’m the best one to run the shop!  I’m just as personable as Stan, just as smart as Ford, just as thorough as Sherm, and I can sell them all under the table!”

              “Those things don’t matter.”

              “Why not?!” Angie shouted.  Stan winced.  “Those are the things it takes to run the shop, and I have them!”

              “If you were a young man, maybe I’d let you take over someday, but you’re a young woman,” Filbrick said, his volume beginning to rise.  “You’re meant for something else.”

              “Like what, teaching?  You always say to hedge your bets, do the thing that has the highest likelihood of working out,” Angie argued.  “I don’t know if I’d be a good teacher.  I know for a fact that I’m good at taking care of the shop!”

              “Stop arguing with me like you know better than I do. You’re still a child.”

              “I’m thirteen, not three!”

              “That’s enough!” Filbrick roared.  Angie took a step back, visibly unnerved.  “I am your father, Angela Diane Pines.  You will do as I say and not complain about it.  Am I understood?”  Angie glared furiously.  “Am I understood?” Filbrick growled.  Angie’s shoulders tensed.

              “…Yes, sir,” she ground out.

              “Good.  Now, go to your room.  I’ll talk to your mother about how we’ll punish you for talking back like that.” Angie stormed past Stan and upstairs. Filbrick looked over at Stan. “Finish closing for the day.”

              “Yes, sir,” Stan said.  Filbrick went upstairs.  Stan sighed.  As he finished closing up the shop, he thought about Filbrick warning that Angie would get punished.  It was an empty threat, and everyone knew it.

              She won’t get punished.  They don’t punish her for anything.

-----

              “Stan, Ford?”  Stan and Ford looked up from their comic book and sketchbook, respectively.

              “What’s going on, Ang?” Stan asked.  Angie stood in the doorway of their bedroom, rubbing her arm nervously.

              “Um, I wanted your advice.”

              “Advice on what?” Ford asked.  Angie closed her eyes.

              “…Dealing with Pops,” she said quietly.  Stan burst into laughter.  Ford scowled down at Stan from the top bunk.

              “Stan!”

              “Can you blame me?” Stan asked.  “Angie’s the only one who’s always on Pops’ good side, and she wants advice on dealing with him?”

              “I’m not always on his good side,” Angie said.  She walked into the living room and sat on the bottom bunk bed, next to Stan. “Remember when I told him I wanted to run the shop?”

              “Yeah.  You yelled at him and didn’t get punished.”

              “But he didn’t let me do what I wanted.”

              “You might want to rephrase that, Angie,” Ford suggested gently.  Angie groaned loudly.

              “You know what I mean!  I asked to run the shop, and he told me, in no uncertain terms, that he wouldn’t let me.  And not for any real reason.  No, it’s because I’m a girl.”

              “Yeah, that was bullshit,” Stan said.

              “It was!” Angie said.  “It was absolute bullshit.”

              “Language,” Ford warned.  Angie glared at him.

              “Shut up.”

              “…Fair enough.”  Ford closed his sketchbook.  He climbed down to sit on the bottom bunk, on the other side of Angie.  “I’m guessing that what you want advice for is related to that argument?”

              “Yeah.”  Angie looked down at her feet.  “You guys know that Mom and Pops have things planned out for me and that they have their own ideas of what a girl like me should do.  Well, it’s mostly Pops who has those ideas.”

              “Yes, we’re very aware that the expectations Mom and Pops have of you are different from what they have of us,” Ford said.

              “They’re gonna have you be a teacher, for one thing,” Stan said.  Angie nodded.

              “Yeah, that’s what they want, but it’s not- it’s not what I want.”  She took a breath.  “I want to be an artist.”  Stan and Ford nodded.  “How am I supposed to tell Pops?”

              “Well, first off, remind him that you’re his baby girl,” Stan said.  “Use those big blue eyes of yours, wear something cute, and don’t hesitate to cry.”

              “That’s just what I normally do,” Angie said, rolling her eyes.  “I don’t think the method I use to get Pops to buy me new paints will work for this. I’m telling him that I don’t want to go into the career he’s had planned for me since I was little.”

              “You’re still little,” Stan said, ruffling Angie’s hair.  At this point, it was obvious that Angie would stay at her decidedly below average height; she had never even gotten a formal growth spurt, unlike her brothers. She pouted at him.  “But I know what you mean.  Hmm.  Ford?”

              “Use Pops’ emotions for you against him, yes,” Ford said after a moment.  “But also come in with a fully prepared argument.  Come up with an answer for any possible reason he might give that you should be a teacher.”  Angie nodded.

              “Anything else?”

              “Don’t raise your voice,” Ford said.  Stan nodded.

              “Yeah, I know you like to fight back, but that won’t get you anywhere with Pops.”

              “Got it.”

              “Don’t stress, Ang,” Stan said, putting a hand on her shoulder.  “If anyone could pull this off, it’d be you.  You’re the favorite, after all.”

              “Don’t say that,” Angie mumbled.  “It makes me feel weird.”

              “It’s the truth,” Ford said with a shrug. Angie scowled.

              “That doesn’t make it any better.”

-----

              Stan sat on the sidewalk where he had been thrown, the duffle bag in his lap heavy.  Tears pricked his eyes.

              Pops had a bag ready.  How long has he been planning on kicking me out?  He took a shuddering breath.  At least Angie didn’t see.  One of the most important tasks he had as an older brother was protecting his baby sister, and that included keeping her in the dark about how bad their father could get.  Stan slowly got to his feet.  The front door slammed open.

              “Stan!” Angie shouted, running out of the building. She tackled Stan in an enormous hug. “What’s- what’s going on?  I heard noise, and Ford said- he said that Pops-”

              “Angela Diane Pines, get back inside!” Filbrick rumbled, appearing in the doorway.  Stan stiffened in fear.  Angie spun around.  She stared at Filbrick with plaintive blue eyes.

              “Pops, is what Ford said true?  Are- are you really kicking Stan out?”

              “Angel, he has to be punished for what he’s done,” Filbrick said.  He walked over and took Angie’s hand.  “You should go back to bed, you don’t do well when you get woken up.”  Angie yanked her hand away.

              “How could you kick out your own son?” she whispered.

              “He ruined Stanford’s shot at that fancy school.”

              “But not on purpose!  Right, Stan?”

              “It- it was an accident,” Stan mumbled nervously. “I was pissed, but-”

              “If I don’t do anything, your brother won’t learn from his mistakes,” Filbrick said firmly.

              “Then punish him some other way!  Don’t put him on the street when he’s still a teenager!” Angie said fiercely.  Filbrick scowled.  Stan quailed, but Angie, who didn’t have much experience being on Filbrick’s bad side, didn’t back down.  “If you’re kicking him out, then- then you’re kicking me out, too!”  Angie grabbed Stan’s hand.  Filbrick’s face went slack.

              “Angie, don’t do this,” Stan whispered to her. “You’ve got a future.  You’re only fifteen!”

              “You’re only seventeen,” Angie said, her voice firm.  “And we’re Pines.”  She gripped Stan’s hand tighter.  “We stick together, even when the world’s against us.”  She looked back at Filbrick.  “Be prepared to lose your youngest son and only daughter, Pops.”

              “I…” Filbrick started.  Angie sniffled loudly.

              “I can’t stay with a father that I know is comfortable kicking out his own son, especially when- when-”  Angie’s voice got choked up.  “When the son he kicked out was born his.  I wasn’t born yours, Pops.”  A few tears began to trace their way down Angie’s cheeks.  Filbrick finally caved.

              “Okay.  I won’t kick him out, angel.”  Filbrick pulled Angie into a tight embrace.  He glared at Stan.  “Go back upstairs.  You can stay, but you’re on thin ice.”  Stan bolted for the door.  When he got to his and Ford’s bedroom, Ford looked up from the West Coast Tech brochure he was staring at.

              “I see Angie convinced Pops to let you stay,” he said numbly.

              “Yeah.”  Stan dropped the duffle bag to the floor.  “She did.”

              “Pops is a fool for not wanting her to take over the shop, if she can get even him to back down.”  Ford threw the brochure in the trash, got up from his desk, and climbed into the top bunk.  He turned away from Stan.

              An hour later, Ford was sleeping, but Stan couldn’t, no matter how hard he tried.  The bedroom door slowly creaked open.  Stan sat up.  He squinted in the darkness.

              “Angie?”

              “Yeah.”  Angie quietly walked over.  She sat on the bed next to him.  “Are- are you all right?”

              “Are you?” Stan asked.  Angie looked at him, bemused.  “You shouldn’t have seen that.”

              “It shouldn’t have happened.”

              “That’s just how Pops is.  Honestly, I’m a bit surprised it’s taken him this long to wanna kick me out.”  Angie stared at him in shock.  “Angie, it’s okay.  I’m okay.”

              “It’s a good thing I was there,” Angie said softly. Stan’s stomach churned.

              “Yeah.”

              It is good she was there.  But why do I feel so weird about it?  Pops likes her best, this isn’t new information.

              “It sucks that you had to get caught in the crossfire.”

              “Hmm?  Oh, you mean when I started crying?” Angie asked.  Stan nodded.  Angie looked away.  “Those tears might have been fake.”  The churning in Stan’s stomach worsened.  “Don’t get me wrong, I was really upset by everything, but I was more angry than sad. It’s just that, well, you know how Pops gets when I cry.”

              “…Yeah.”

              He melts like your Barbie did when it got left in the car a few summers back.

              “Go back to bed,” Stan said after a moment. “He was right, you shouldn’t wake up and then fall back asleep, it’s not good for you.”

              “Fine.  But I did mean it.  Us Pines have to stick together.”  Angie kissed him on the cheek.  “Good night, best brother.”

              “Good night, best sister,” Stan replied.  Angie got up and left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.  Stan laid back down.  Tears sprang to his eyes.

              Why did it take my little sister crying to make Pops let me stay?

#I still have EVEN MORE that I can post #this AU has been living in my head rent free lately #it's fun and good and has a nice mixture of angst and fluff and a LOT of Feels #Angela Pines AU #Angie McGucket #Filbrick Pines #Ma Pines #Stanley Pines #Stanford Pines #ficlet #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

[popculturebuffet]

Green Eggs and Ham: “Train” Review or A Little Better Now (Patreon Review for Emma Fici)

Hello you happy people and all aboard! We’re back on the Green Eggs and Ham Train for a Train themed episode. Train. As you can tell I like trains... admitely I don’t see enough episodes et on them and I don’t buy books or obess on them but I like the idea of a train, the comfort, the use of a mode of travel that was once common but is now simply used on occasion with the dawn of air travel, and it confining our heroes to a smaller space with limited room to move. it’s good stuff. I even tolerae the band train... I mean yes their music is okay at best, but the lyrics.. are wonderfully delightfully insane. Who else would use a garbage bag as a genuine romantic metaphor?

When last we left off things ere a bit ehhhhhhhhhhh: Sam went from delightfully quirky with some issues ot adress to annoying, and Michelle went from kin dof a bitch ot ENTIRELY THAT BITCH. Outside of Guy’s mental breakdown/heatstroke episode involving hallucinations of green eggs and ham, yes that did in fact happen, it wasn’t much to write home about and I worried the series simply had a good PILOT but the series itself wasn’t going to be fun sit through. 

If I was right or I was rilla.. will have to wait till after the cut. But first as always i’d like to thank the person who payed for this episode Emma Fici. Emma is one of my closest friends and one of two patreon patreons. If you’d like a reivew of your choice eveyr month guarnateed, then please hop over to patreon.com/popculturebuffet and back me at the 5 dollar level. You also get access to my exclusive discord where I ocasoinally post about work in progress stuff and tlak to my falns, to pick a short any time I do one and EXCLUSIVE review, as well as helping me hit my stretch goals. So line up, sign up then join me under the cut. 

So we pick up where we left off with Guy hurtling into a lake. Eh I dunno i’ve heard being naked ina  lake is pretty neat. 

All you’d have to do is take off the hat and your there. But Sam saves him wiht the weird train of hats he put at the end of the car for some reason, and our heroes are saved.. but down a vehicle. Oh and Sam’s vehiclular neglgence costs a bunch of fish their home.

And our heroes are without a car and Guys at the end of his rope with Sam.. I mean granted he’s been there since he met the guy but it’s down to like the tiniest thred, not helped by Sam casually stealing his wallet to pay for train tickets depsite Guy , UNDERSTANDABLY, not wanting to hang out with the guy who has stolen with him, gotten him implicate din animal trafficing and dosen’t really respect personal space. Also it’s taken me embarassingly long to remember Micheal Douglas played my boy Hank Pym in the Ant Man and the Wasp films. Seroiusly I don’t know HOW I forgot that, him being aged up and thus unable to do ANY of the things he is constnatly denied credit for in canon (Founding the avengers, being the first ant man.. and the first goliath and the first yellow jacket and the first giant man.. and the only doctor pym...).. but instead the film kept his troubled nature and ego, but removed the domestic abuse (which is something I will not go into but needless to say the comics version went above and beyond to try and make up for that and redeem himself soley because it was the right hting to do) and by making im older still gav ehim a roll as Scott’s mentor. What i’m getting at is I freaking love Hank Pym and I could’ve been making hank pym jokes for several episdoes now. That’s a mistake I itned to recitfy.. right away as Guy looses his suitcase as a result of it and whie he lcaims not to be bothered his voice says otherwise. Eh i’m sure the world can wait for ultron Guy. 

So anyway, Guy reluctantly agrees to the train travel idea and being parked across from Sam on the grounds he has no real other options. Meanwhile the BAD GUYZ.. and i’ve also decided to drop spoilers as the series is two years old, most people reading this have probably seen the series, and it makes analysis rough when I have to dance around spoilers. So yeah the BAD GUYZ aren’t villians.. kind of a dickhead on the blue guys part, but not EVIL. They figure out their going by train it’s a whole thing.

ON the train we run into michelle again...

Yeahhh for the first half she’s as inusfferable as she was the last two episodes and it lead me to believie the rest of the series was going to be constant suffering as she’d be in every episode, likely because they DID get Diane Keaton for this and you don’t waste Diane Keaton. You just don’t. But while they got their money’s worth in having her on screne wise they just..w asted her for the first 2 and a half episodes: Michelle is a judgemental, unpleasnt suffocating bitch and it’s going to take a lot , even if this episode helped, to make me truly like her as a person. 

Case in point her first two scenes this episode are just.. dragging her daughter past a play place uncarring about her feelings because while I DO get she cares about her child’s saftey and is terrified afte rloosing her husband.. it dosen’t EXCUSE her actions. It dosen’t forgive her locking her daughter up constanlty, not talking to her like a human being and oh yeah PUTTING A FUCKING LOCK ON HER SHE CAN CONTROL.  I mean my god I don’t think they INTENDED for her to come off as abusive as she does, and i’ve seen far worse inteitonally and untietionally, but it’s still not remotely plesant. There is a larger issue baked into that the episode brings about, but we’ll get to that. 

And naturally at breakfast.. she procedes to top herself. ONCE AGAIN she treats guy like trash as guy UNDERSTANDABLY didn’t want to talk to her after her previous layers of bullshit which, just as a refresher, involved insulting his invention constnatly (even if it turned out ot be dangerous she did not know that till the last second) then refusing to help a man BAKING in the desert and mocking him to his face. 

So yeah unsuprisingly instead of you know, APOLOGIZING for that episode or anything else she mocks him again and calls him sad. I just.. I get they were trying to have her come off as a jerk and then slowly develop.. but you can’t overdue the jerk part. It has to be juts the right amount and if it is this much there has to be a commpuance. There is none as far as I can tell because god is a spiteful two faced prick. 

So naturally Sam forces the two parties together, and orders green eggs and ham for everyone, except guy who refuses. We do get a really great bit though as EB turns down the idea and we get a tremendous rant from Micheal Douglas as he talks about how a girl in his clash, veyr likely just him, got a rash from tring new things and you shouldn’t and to watch out for the scarlet beetle he’ll steel your ants and try to conquer your planet and is not a guy in a costume but in fact an actual beetle. EB naturally tries it. 

We get a brief interlude with Snerz that’s funny enough: he outright calls his visotrs flunkies, they enter to the song money, and his minon throws dollar bills at their feet. I imagine this is what visitng Mar a Largo is like. They turn up his noses until he mentions getting a chickarffe for his animal crutelty wall. And i’m torn about Snerz. On one hand he can be generally entertaining in his dickery.. but ont he other I do question why he’s in EVERY episode. We don’t NEED him in eveyr one and I feel he’s only in them because Eddie Izzard was expensive so they had to get him as a regular to justify the cost. We really DONT’ need this scene funny as it is and it adds nothing so far. Maybe i’m wrong and these guys end up being important. I don’t know. 

So yeah so far this episode was miserable getting through and I expected it to be another long sit... I was wrong. The second half.. is really damn good and reminded me why I liked this series so much. No really. We get two stories,both really good following one half of each pair teaming up. As for why their split Guy is annoyed with Sam, as well as dosen’t want him letting the chickaraffe out because you know lots of people dosen’t want ot go to jail and leaves to find a quiet place to work on watching paint dry while Michelle tucks a sleeping EB in, her first really truly humanizing moment, which should NOT have taken three episodes but hey, i’ll take it, and goes to find the same.

So starting with Sam and EB, naturally Sam takes all of a minute to let his buddy out and it gets loose on top of the train. EB hears the familiar sound and gives chase and the two meet properly. After Sam covers for his buddy and realizes the creature is asleep in his car safe now, he properly talks to EB and we get a truly magical sequnece: The two talk with Sam whoelheartdly supporting her free spirit and finally giving the girl what she badly needed: someone who treated her not as something to be tied down but you know.. a child who just wants some expression and as she literally lets her hair down, It’s truly adorable and it just has a magical quanitity as they enjoy the beautiful view from the train top. 

Granted this takes at urn later when EB brings up her mom, and Sam.. supports her mom, pointing out she’s just looking out for her.. which she is but in a deeply unehalthy way and I don’t like the show just.. brushing over Michelle’s terrible actions because “she’s her mom”. But it’s also hard to tell if they are: Sam’s mom left him as we’ll find out, so he likely colors his memories of her rosey and simply envys EB still HAVING hers. It’s not BAD stuff but I don’t like a work saying “You should love your family just beacause your related”. Instead of because they lovea nd support you and if they dont’ love you or treat you remotely well or don’t give an ass about you fuck them. Thankfully I DO love my family and have no issues with them, my immediate family at least, but i’ve had friens with downright abusive or neglectful parents. It’s not that black and white. Ducktales also hammered in the family theme but was transparent in how it can me messy, harm each other and that it took true love and consideratoin for it to work at it’s core. 

It’s still not a terrible scene and what comes next is neat as earlier it was shown the train has loops, because Seussworld, and now that’s a problem because their on top of it. Michelle’s jail braclet thing ends up coming in handy the first loop, as while she can’t unstick it means she and sam can suririvie it. They do get it loose, turns out the password was indeed password, because of course, and they end up narrowly suriving a roller coaster bit of track, with the help of MR. Jenkins who I can finally name because EB names her in the next scene. Understanding her need for a pet, Sam deputizes her, and gets her back in bed in time for the next plot. 

Speaking of which winding back a bit as these two go back and forth, Guy goes through two rather hilarious cars: First a bath car that has a bubsby berkely style water number and then a model train car.. with the train on the track showing guy watching guy watchin gthe train etc. 

It’s great. Guy ends up finding the quiet car.. and Michelle. And in her first scene of acting like a human being and not if julie powers was a soccer mom, Michelle, while standosfish as usual, not only unites with guy to shush a loud guy in the car, but is genuinely apricative when Guy helps her get her place back, she was doing some literal bean counting. 

The two genuinely hit it off, first with some adorable silent bits and then by talking, with Michelle appreciating his now safer job and warming up to him. Keaton and Douglas have GENUINE chemestry and it annoys me itt took the series this long to use that instead of wasting Diane Keaton on being 

It’s really great stuff and i’m actually rooting for the two.. once she gets her shit together obviously. Guy does make the mistake of lying abotu knowing about the chikcaraffe.

This ends up being bad as he finds out EB knows the next day and after she leaves the car RIGHTFULLY tears the fuck into same for getting him accused of crime, stealing from him and now puttin ghim in a precarious situation. While Guy DID lie, he idd so well meaningly and trying to impress someone whose ineherntly judgmeental. Douglas also does REALY well in the scene, calling sam out but it dosen’t feel cruel.. it’s justified. While guy is miserable and does need to work on himself.. Sam also needs to work on himself and is putting guy in serious danger just by forcing him into his animal smuggling scheme. 

So Guy leaves.. and naturally given the unvierse hate shim runs into the BAD GUYZ, who aren’t much better. No really they refuse to belieive guy might be innocent, use excessive force on everyone. They have better GOALS than sam but I woudln’t really call them good people. Smash to black and we’re out. 

Final Thoughts:  This one was better. As I said the first half or rather third drags slightly but once we get to the two seperate plotlines it’s REALLY damn good stuff and reminded me what the series was capable of in character in creativity. Hopefully it keeps this up

Next Time on the Blog: We return to mewni for the penultimate chapter of season 3 as Moon and Eclipsa have some fundemtnal disgareemnts on how to handle Meteora that wind up costing both dearly. 

See you at the next rainbow

#green eggs and ham #guy am I #sam I am #dr seuss #netflix #animation #patreon

[moonsofmars-writes]

From the darkness below (life can still rise)

Fandom: 七つの大罪 - 鈴木央 | Nanatsu no Taizai | The Seven Deadly Sins - Suzuki Nakaba (Anime & Manga) Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Relationships: Diane/Fairy King Harlequin Characters: Fairy King Harlequin, Diane (Nanatsu no Taizai) Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, One Shot, king feels guilty about lots of stuff, diane doesn't like that, king and diane dancing!, Dancing, Romantic Fluff, Zine, written for the SPECTRUM zine

Summary: King visits the ruins of the old Fairy King's Forest for the first time in years. The last time he went there he was a criminal and racked with guilt, and he couldn't do anything to save the forest. But this time, Diane is with him. And this changes everything.

Notes: here’s my piece for the Spectrum zine @spectrumnntzine​ ! I got the prompt “black” and wrote some Kiane. King suffer a little here but luckily, Diane is with him. 

Enjoy! 

When he lands, a cloud of ashes and dirt rises from the ground. King clenches his mouth as dust covers his shoes and pants with a thin dark layer, then starts to fall, slowly, to the earth. Around him, the ground is covered with black mud and rubble, all that’s left of what were branches and leaves. King shivers and forces himself to look around, letting his eyes wander over the desolation surrounding him. The burned forest hasn’t changed since last time he was here. Somehow, the trees still stand, raising their slender branches to the sky. The wood is dark and dry, and King feels like it would crumble into ashes under his fingers if he touched it. Below, the twisted roots sink into the arid ground. Dirt and cinder cover the earth, almost obscuring the spider-web of cracks stretched across it. In his mind, the resemblance is disturbingly fitting. After all, this wasteland is a place of death and misery - death of the vegetation that once ruled it, death of the wildlife that made its home here, death of the Fairies he failed to protect. The place is the rotting cadaver of his beloved forest. Nothing but a monument to his own failure.

“Harlequin?” Diane’s voice is as soft as the gentle touch of her hand on his cheek. He breathes in and looks down to meet her eyes, loosening his grip on her. He was holding her tighter than he realized.

“Sorry,” he mutters as he buries his face in her hair. It feels nice and smells like flowers and hills, and it gives him an excuse to look away from the grim landscape around them.

Her head shakes slightly as she answers, “I’m fine - are you alright?”

Continue on AO3

He swallows before glancing around again. The scrawny trees look back at him like a jury of the dead. There used to be colours in their bark - light and dark brown, red, grey - sometimes almost invisible under the green mass of moss. There used to be colour in the earth where their roots sink - the light green of the grass, the hundreds of shades of the flowers; and in the air too, where butterflies flaunted their vibrant wings and birds flew from branch to branch with a beat of their vivid feathers. Nothing is left. King imagines them melting together as the fire consumed the forest, leaving behind only this nauseating, burned black.

“Yes,” he answers slowly, looking away, “I’m fine, don’t worry.”

Diane raises an eyebrow but says nothing as he lets her go. She eyes her surroundings, a hint of uneasiness in her violet gaze. Not for the first time, King wonders why she insisted on coming with him. He told her it wasn't necessary, that the sight was hardly worth the trip, but he knows better than pushing her when she makes up her mind. She can be very stubborn, he thinks, a faint smile curving his lips.

Truth be told, he doesn’t know why he wanted to come here. The new Fairy King's Forest is home now. He knew nothing waited for him here. Yet the desire to return had been growing in the back of his mind since the war ended until it was impossible to ignore. Maybe, he admits to himself as some he takes hesitant steps between the trees, he hoped something had changed. When he last came, he was still a traitor, wanted by the kingdom for a crime he didn't commit. Even to him, it feels like ages ago. It was easy to convince himself that it was worth visiting if just to check whether some semblance of life had returned. But on the ground he sees no sprout, and on the trees, no leaves. The entire place looks frozen in time, framed in the aftermath of its destruction. King clenches his jaw as he approaches a tree. After a moment, he finds the courage to touch its trunk. It doesn’t crumble under his fingers as he feared, but he can feel no life within its burned shell. It’s only a matter of time before it rots, leaving no trace of its existence but ashes scattered on the ground.

“We should leave." His voice sounds stiff and low, but he is grateful it's not trembling.

“Oh? But we just got here!” He hears Diane’s approach behind him, her soles crushing tiny pieces of burned wood. “Didn’t you want to take a look around?”

He shakes his head. “It’s useless. I … I was hoping that I would have been able to fix this, now that my wings have grown,” he admits, finally turning towards her. "But this place is ... well, look at it. It’s dead. If anything survived, if only a single bud sprouted, I could help it grow, but I can't bring what is dead back to life.” If he could, he thinks bitterly, he wouldn’t have lost so much, would he?

With his foot, he traces a line in the dirt. It stains his shoe with sludge, black like the charred wood and the burned bones he knows he will find if he looks well enough between the roots. Some are so tiny and thin and can’t come but from small animals. Others are bigger and King doesn’t even want to think who they belonged to.

"It was foolish of me to come here - and to bring you with me,” he mutters. “I should know by now that I can't erase my mistakes."

Diane gasps and King closes his mouth, pressing his lips together, though he knows he can’t take his words back. She hates it when he speaks like that about himself. He glances at her and tries to find something to say as he waits for her to berate him. But she doesn’t speak. She stands silently instead, her head tilted and teeth sinking in her bottom lip; she stares at him with thoughtful eyes, then, suddenly, she moves. King's brow furrows as he watches her walk around, eyes fixed on the ground. Near a tree, she stops and taps her foot on the soil, once, twice, making the dust lift and float. King hesitates, unsure how to ask what she is doing, and his eyebrows rise suddenly when she crouches and reaches for the earth with her hand.

"Diane! You shouldn't touch -"

"Of course you can't erase your mistakes," she says without looking up, "that's not how it works."

King sucks in air and closes his mouth, baffled. That’s … not how she usually answers him, when the argument comes up. The change doesn’t quite upset him, though he feels his stomach clench. She loves him, but if she starts to see how much a failure he was -

"But you can't deny," she continues, pressing her palm against the dark soil, "that you’re trying. You are doing what you can to be a good king, and you are Harlequin. I, our friends, your people, everyone thinks so. Yes, you made mistakes in the past, but you’re trying to make sure nothing like this will happen again. This is the only thing you can do, now.” When she turns towards him, a little smile has formed on her lips. “And anyway, you’re wrong. You can help this forest.”

King frowns. “No, I can’t."

Maybe she can't feel the sense of death that filters through the cracks on the trees' bark, but she is not blind. Her bond with the earth must be telling her there is no hope for this place.

"You know I can't revive these plants," he says through his teeth. "There is no life left inside them, I ... checked, the first time I came here." Those moments are etched in stone in his mind - fear and disbelief taking his breath away, his mind refusing to process what he saw, to acknowledge it was real. He looked for his sister first, then for the other Fairies, and when he couldn't find anyone he had examined the plants, stumbling from one to the other, desperately looking for something alive. "Nothing survived the purgatory fire," he finishes, bitterly.

Diane hums softly before beckoning him with her hand. "Come here,” she orders.

King frowns as he walks towards her, curious to see what caught her attention; as soon as he is close enough, she grabs his hand and pulls him to crouch at her side.

“You have to stop blaming yourself for everything that happened here,” she whispers. “It’s distracting you.”

“How can I?” His eyes drop to the dirt that now stains their shoes and calves. "I was the king of this forest and I left it unprotected." He smiles bitterly, shaking his head, "I can't even bring myself to regret it. I couldn't abandon Helbram and - and leaving led me to you," he adds softly. "No, I could never regret my decision. But when I remembered, when I realized that I abandoned my people for centuries, I chose to stay away. I thought it was for the best to surrender myself to the humans and take the blame for what Helbram did. The truth is that it was an easy option.” He swallows, feeling like there is dust in his throat. “One that didn't require me to face my people after I failed to protect them, after I left them, after what I let happen to Helbram -"

“Harlequin.” Diane’s grip on his hands becomes tighter. “Look at me.” Reluctantly, he meets her gaze. Her eyes burn like violet flames. “You know you had to stay. You told me.”

"If I came back -"

"You would have had to fight a war against humans. Many people would have died - more than the ones who lost their lives in the fire. You would have brought death here,” she gestures at the forest around them, “to your people, and to the humans who would have fought you. You saved lives when you decided not to come back.”

“But I should have been here to fight that Demon!”

“You couldn’t know about the Demon.” She squeezes his hands tighter, so abruptly that he has to hold back a groan. “You did what you had to stop what was threatening your home. You acted like a king.”

He wants to object, to insist he should have done better, he should have found a way to keep everyone safe and give the humans the justice they demanded. It takes just a moment to realise that he can’t. Diane is right. It’s not the first time he’s thought about this and reached the same conclusions, but this time they feel more … real. Not like simple excuses he is trying to make up to absolve his crimes.

“I … know”, he whispers, “but my sister died because of my decision. If Ban hadn't revived her ...”

“But he did. You can’t keep tormenting yourself over what was in the past, Harlequin. Elaine is alive and happy, and so are the Fairies and the Fairy King’s Forest - and that’s what you should focus on. What it is, not what it isn’t anymore.” She smiles at him. “You have to accept that you can’t change the past. But you can protect the present.”

King stares at her, the grip on his chest finally loosened a little. The guilt is still there, heavy and bitter. He knows it will never go truly away. Maybe it's alright. Maybe with time, it won’t feel like a burden to drag him down, but a push to do better. So that there won’t be more burned forests and lost lives.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, releasing a long breath as he lifts their joined hands to kiss her knuckles.

Diane beams before reaching for him; the touch of her lips on his own is quick as a beating of wings. She is gone before King can even think to kiss her back, then, still holding his hand, she murmurs, "Will you look into the earth, now?"

"The ... earth?" He blinks, tilting his head, cheeks still flushing for the kiss. "The - the roots have burned as well. I can't feel them, Diane. They’re dead too."

She shakes her head. "No, I mean - under here," she says, pressing his hand against the ground with her own. "You have to look deeper. Please, just," she adds when he looks at her with uncertainty, "just try."

Under the dust, the ground is hard and coarse and feels nothing like the soft meadow that once covered it all. King hesitates, but when he glances at Diane she nods encouragingly, a spark of excitement in her eyes. So, he closes his eyes and lets his magic flow. When he uses Disaster, he can feel them clearly - the plants, their connection with each other and the ground, whether they are going to survive or if they need to be taken down to allow other plants to grow. When he does it in the Fairy King’s Forest, the wood awakens with whispers and lights everywhere around him, the entire forest pulsing with life.

But here, King feels nothing. The world around him is silent and dark as a starless sky. Nothing seems to answer his call. Clenching his jaw, he keeps looking; Diane wouldn't be making him do it without a reason. She felt something, and now he just has to look long enough to -

It's there. His eyes snap open, but his mind stays focused on the tiny spark of life hidden in the depths of the earth. It’s a seed, King realises, and it’s not the only one. There are others around it, here under him, but also in the surroundings, under every scrawny tree. He looks up, eyes wide, and Diane grins at him.

"You saw them! I think the earth preserved them from the fire. There is still life in this forest.”

“But it's too deep," King breathes, "they are still alive, but they won't reach the surface and grow if we leave them there."

“Then we won’t. We are going to get them out.” Suddenly, Diane is holding both of his hands, looking at him with determination. "Dance with me."

It takes only a moment to understand what exactly she means. He can make the seeds into buds and trees, but with feet and feet of ground separating them from the soil, it will be easier if the earth opens for them.

"Of course," he says as they stand up together. Sliding one of her hands from his, she starts.

This is not by any means the first time they’ve danced together, nor the first time they have combined their powers like this. Yet King feels clumsy and stumbles on his feet as he follows Diane's smooth movements. She doesn't say anything and continues to dance, adapting her movements to his and giving him time to pick up the pace. His throat feels dry, his chest tight - he is nervous, more than any other time, maybe because he needs to make this right, to give this place another chance to live after he failed his duty to protect it.

He breathes in, out, trying to calm the pulse of his heart, and stops thinking about his next step, his focus shifting to the seeds. They are there, tiny and weak, and he keeps looking for them, finding more and more. His magic gently envelops them and then pours inside them, growing them slowly. Around them, the earth opens, like lungs too long contracted and finally given the chance to breathe. King is only partly aware of the way the ground trembles under his feet, but he can feel Diane's magic radiating from it as she delicately pulls the seeds outwards using her control over the earth. They are still dancing, their bodies finally moving in harmony, and when Diane pirouettes in his arms their hands touch oh so slightly - and under them, the seeds keep growing and rising until they are emerging from the ground like tiny green stars on the dark soil. King doesn't stop though, not yet, nourishing them with his magic, pushing them further - just a little more, till they will be strong enough.

And then they stop. King gasps for air, his eyes snapping open; Diane's face is inches from his, her body in his arms with their hands still connected. Her cheeks are flushed and her eyes feverish, but she is grinning widely as she whispers, "We did it."

She is right. All around them, among the dead trees, saplings raise their thin branches to the sky and tiny bushes cover their roots. They are not many, yet, but it's a start. A laugh escapes his lips and he takes Diane's face into his hands before kissing her, again and again; he can feel her laugh too against his lips.

Before they leave, Diane carefully shapes the earth so that the wood will have enough water to grow while King finally lets the old trees decompose. They turn into dust under his power almost gratefully, as they were waiting for it. Part of him can’t help but mourn them, as he mourns the times he used to fly between their branches with his sister - and Helbram and Oslo and all the friends he lost. He will hold the memories dear in his heart, but finally, he thinks as the last tree crumbles into ashes, he can let this place go.

He turns back only once as he flies away with Diane in his arms. The wood looks so young, so different from the forest where he grew up, but that’s fine. It will grow into something new - something that will survive, he promises to himself. Even the earth looks healthier and softly embraces and supports the new trees, though its pitch-black colour remains. But ... maybe it’s the green of the new leaves, maybe it’s the fact that his heart is much lighter than when they arrived, but as he looks at it, King feels for the first time like the darkness of the dirt doesn’t mean death. It means life.

#nnt #nanatsu no taizai #the seven deadly sins #king harlequin #kiane #diane #nnt king #nnt diane #nnt fanfiction #spectrum zine #zine #mars-writes #why do i like making this poor fairy suffer? #but at least he got better before the end

[essays-for-breakfast]

When the Daisies Bloom

Kiane Week Day Two: Flowers/Daisy

Diane has never cared much for flowers. Most of them, while pretty to look at, don’t fill her stomach. And whenever she spent too much time marveling at the blossoms, yellow and white, vibrant pink and soft blue, with small petals and elaborate calyxes, the daylight would fade too soon, and she would have to fetch water in the gloom of the night or endure the thirst. In Megadoza, no one had an eye for these short-lived bursts of color when they turn a dull stretch of grass into a painting. Even if she had cared to ask before she left her people and their mindset for an autumn adventure, no one would have told her the names of these blossoms. For the longest time, she doesn’t know they have names.

Until she finds a Fairy by the riverside.

He has trouble remembering his own name, just like she has trouble pronouncing the complex syllables the first few times. Harlequin. Unlike anything a Giant would call their child, almost like a piece of foreign music. But he gives each flower they stumble across a name and a story.

The yellow, starshaped ones that like to show their faces to a crowd of same-looking blooms – daffodils.

The tiny buds in blue and purple that are the first to crawl out of the earth after the cold – crocuses.

The pack of upside-down tankards that will turn the ground between the forest trunks a short walk south of Diane’s cave into an indigo carpet – bluebells.

Whenever Diane goes to the river to fetch water, Harlequin flies beside her and points at a shrub here or a bush there. Some won’t produce buds before a few more months. But Harlequin describes them in such detail, from the way the blossoms will rustle with the wind to the scent they will share with the world, that Diane can imagine it all. This way she learns to identify broom, bluebeard, and summer lilacs before they change their green attire for a colorful dress.

The days grow longer. An orchestra of crickets gives daily concerts, and as long as Diane doesn’t have to see the bugs, she can enjoy their play without a disgusted shudder. Even at night, the air outside her cave tickles her bare arms with warmth.

She lies on her back and plays with a flower crown Harlequin made for her. A few turns of his forefinger, and the blossoms of the meadow across the river have danced in the air, held the hands of their neighbors, and formed a circle of merry ball guests in pink and white and violet.

“Harlequin?” Diane asks, and he sits up to look at her. “How do you know so much about flowers?”

He tilts his head, a move he always performs when he ponders. “I grew up surrounded by flowers, I think. Everyone there knew them by name, and some people took the names of flowers they liked for themselves. It must seem like a weird thing for a Giant…”

Diane shakes her head. “I don’t find it weird. I would have rather learned about flowers than about weapons and the different ways to gain honor in battle. That’s why I went away. Everyone at Megadoza only cares about fighting for the sake of fighting. Why did you go away?”

“I don’t remember. I think I wanted to help someone… but my head’s all fuzzy.”

Diane rolls over until Harlequin’s face hovers mere inches away from her nose. Her breath distorts his hair, and a pink shimmer covers his skin.

“Maybe you wanted to help me!” Diane says. “Since I found you, you have helped me to tell the good fruits from the ones that make my stomach all twisty. And you have taught me everything about flowers. I would have never found the little waterfall or the stone circle on the other side of the beech forest without you. It’s been a lot more fun than anything I did back with the other Giants. Can I tell you a secret I never told anyone?”

Harlequin has forgotten to blink, and he almost forgets to nod too. Diane fights down her giggles. What she is about to tell him is important.

“In the third night after I found this cave, a snowstorm roared outside. My fingers wouldn’t move because of the cold, and I forgot to collect wood for a fire. The rooms of Megadoza aren’t warm, the stone always spreads this cold that seeps through your toes and then your entire body. But at least there were other people around, many orphans who huddle close to each other. In this cave in the middle of the storm, I didn’t have anyone else. That’s when I made a wish. I held my lips close to the earth – because that is the only way your wish will be heard – and asked for the earth to send me someone to help me. A friend to share this cave with. And since that night, I always whispered the same wish to the earth. I only stopped after I found you. You fulfilled my wish, Harlequin.”

Again, he has forgotten to blink. His eyes shimmer as she looks at her.

“I’m sorry,” he says with a hoarse voice.

“Why?”

“For the horrible things you had to go through.”

“You apologize too much.” With these words, Diane plucks a white freesia from her crown and shoves it into his hair, knocking him over in the process.

The next morning, a ray of sunshine caresses Diane’s cheek. For a handful of heartbeats, she snuggles deeper into her bed made out of dry leaves and squeezes her eyes shut. But then she sits up. Harlequin’s slow breaths have maintained their rhythm. He can sleep for hours, probably days on end without growing tired of it. A shame considering all the amazing new things the day may have in store for them.

But when Diane crawls out of the cave, and her eyes adjust to the brightness, she shrieks.

Snow. In the middle of summer. The meadow in front of her cave, a vast plain of grass blades yesterday, has disappeared under a white blanket. Weird yellow blobs are sprinkled across the snow. Diane reaches out with a finger and shrieks again when the contact lacks the expected cold.

Harlequin races outside, still a little confused after the sudden theft of his sleep. “What is it, what happened, are you alright?”

And he would have continued his barrage of questions if Diane hadn’t grabbed him out of the air. With both hands she shakes him, up and down like an oversized rattle.

“WHAAAA!” she screams. “I shouldn’t have told the story about the snow, I never wanted to make it snow, I take everything back, forget I said anything in the first place. And then do your magic and lift this course from meee!”

Harlequin’s head bobs back and forth, but the pats he gives her fingers to calm her don’t spare him from more violent shakes. “Diane, Diane, stop, please. Diane! Okay, I promise I do my magic. Everything will be alright. Just hold still for a moment.”

Diane obeys but presses her eyes shut right away when the weird snow attacks her vision. If she doesn’t look for long enough, maybe the white will go away.

A strange sound comes from Harlequin. By the eternal earth, maybe he is dying. The snow is killing him. And it’s all Diane’s fault because her story summoned the white devil to their threshold.

She needs several moments to realize he is laughing.

“Diane, it’s not snow,” he says, and the joy clings to each of his words. “Look again.”

Maybe he has gone mad. But in the end, Diane trusts Harlequin and cranes her eyes open. The ‘snow’ still covers the meadow, despite her best attempts at wishing it away. Only that it isn’t snow after all. Uncountable white flowers have sprouted overnight, an entire ocean of them, and the yellow dots make up their heads.

Harlequin wiggles free of her loosened grip and plucks one of the flowers to offer Diane a closer look. “They are called daisies. We had a cool early summer, so they are a little late. You can find them all across Britannia on plains and hills just like this. That’s… what someone told me at least. I’m not sure.”

“Next time, they should be more considerate than to scare me so much. I want a heads-up before they invade our lawn,” Diane says and makes a face. But it’s hard to stay mad with the funny-looking flowers for long.

Harlequin kneels down and brushes the flowerheads. “I like them. I didn’t get to see them often in the forest, but when the daisies show their petals, you know summer has arrived. They also taste great in company with wild salad and beetroots. Did you know that they follow the sun with their bloom?”

“I didn’t even know they existed until this morning.”

A flash of pink colors Harlequin’s cheeks. “Oh, you’re right. Sorry.”

“You apologize too much,” Diane says with a snort. “But I like them too. As long as I don’t have to think of them as snow. And I like summer even more. Let’s make a promise, okay? At the beginning of every summer, we will watch the daisies in full bloom. Then we can celebrate a year of our friendship.”

Harlequin smiles as he looks at Diane. A hint of distant sadness swims in the amber of his eyes, another promise broken, another life forgotten. But in this moment, he is happy. That’s what Diane wants to believe.

He uses his entire hand to grab her outstretched finger and shakes it. “It’s a promise.”

Summer comes and goes. All while the daisies bloom on the fields surrounding their home, Diane and Harlequin find an excuse to waste time outside, chasing each other across the hills, spinning in senseless dances, or lying amidst the ocean of white flowers. Harlequin weaves another flower crown for her, a gift she tears apart in her endless enthusiasm and cries over the broken remains until he tinkers a new wreath, even lovelier than the last. She tries the salat he mentioned, but politely declines a second serving in favor of another piece of pork.

Diane has never cared much for flowers, but daisies in particular spread their roots inside her heart. All because of Harlequin.

Summer comes. They craft a garland of daisies and decorate the cave with it. Okay, Harlequin does most of the work, Diane’s fingers struggle against the fragile shafts in vain, but she supplies him with bucket after bucket of new flowers to the point where he can’t keep up anymore and has to admit his defeat with a laugh.

Summer comes. Diane lies on her back amidst the daisies and watches the stars. Their soft scent lingers in the air, even though they have closed their blooms. Harlequin sits on her stomach and points at the bright freckles in the sky’s dark face, a few of which he recognizes from before she knew him. The small lights dot the sky like daisies in an endless blue field.

Summer comes. The air has warmed over the past days, and Diane no longer needs the blanket Harlequin made for her after she lay sick with a fever. And when she returns from the river with an armful of hunted boars, the first daisies stretch their heads towards her. She giggles and picks the prettiest one out of the gathering to surprise Harlequin with the good news.

But the cave is empty.

“Harlequin?” Diane asks. Her voice echoes from the barren stone walls. She drops the meat, and turns over the loose rocks, hurls them outside, even though she knows he would have answered her.

Gone. Has he remembered his past? Did the people he knew in his old home feel the same numbness in their stomach when he disappeared? Has he forgotten her the same way he had them? Harlequin promised to watch the daisies with her.

He promised.

Diane fails to realize she has crushed the daisy between her fingers until the petals rain to the ground. Like snowflakes they cover the place where Harlequin went to sleep last night, right next to the big mold in the pile of leaves where she sleeps.

A hiccup cramps Diane’s throat, and her eyes sting. Rubbing them doesn’t help. Her fingers are cold against her face. He promised.

And that’s when his voice sounds from the cave entrance, and Diane’s heartbeat jumps so high it pounds in her head. “Look what I found, Diane, it’s the first—”

She suffocates the rest of his words as she plucks him from the air and squeezes him, so tightly that he could never possibly leave her side ever again.

“Are-are you crying?” he asks in between desperate coughs for air.

“Don’t leave me, you promised to stay with me.” The tears streaming down her face muffle her voice, but it doesn’t matter. Harlequin hasn’t left her. And when this realization grabs hold of her brain, Diane eases her grip just enough to let him breathe.

“I won’t leave you. We promised to watch the daisies together, don’t you remember? I found one at the back of the cave. It’s a bit dented, but it still means summer has arrived, right? I’m sorry I made you cry, I thought I would be back before you noticed.” Harlequin offers her the flower, and when she ends her stranglehold around his torso, he places the battered daisy in her hair. “Can you forgive me?”

Diane sniffs. “Of course. As long as you make sure to hold your promise from now one.”

“I will.”

Summer comes. Summer comes and goes many times, way past the point where Diane can count them with her fingers. One field of daisies blends into the next and the next, and the one after that. But no matter what happens, Diane and Harlequin always celebrate the beginning of the warm season surrounded by daises. If she could make a wish to the earth so that life went on like this forever, Diane would do so in a heartbeat.

But no flower can blossom forever.

The sun slowly climbs over the mountain peaks and bathes the meadow in soft pinks and oranges. Diane sits in front of the cave and taps the ground in an endless drum play with her feet. The early rays of day warm her skin, but instead of the pleasant feeling, her mind only focuses on the implications the morning carries with it.

Harlequin has been gone for a long time.

When he left, the moon has painted his skin in a ghostly white. Like the porcelain plates Diane once saw a merchant sell.

Now, the moon has gone to bed, and she searches the sky above the northern hills for a sign of Harlequin in vain.

She sighs. Harlequin promised to return, and he has never broken a promise he made to her. Still, she kicks the ground to give her feet something to do other than fantasize about running after him.

A blob of white beside her catches her eyes. The smile tugging at her lips comes on its own. Lured forward by the warmth of the morning sun, a single daisy has spread its petals and welcomes the summer. Around midday, the meadow might already wear its yearly dress of white flowers. Diane strokes the early daisy with her pinky, careful not to crush the small plant. All will be good. Harlequin has promised to watch the daisies with her. Even if he is a little disappointed that he didn’t find the first flower, they will soon laugh and forget about it.

The birds shift into a new tune as the sun rises higher.

And then Harlequin emerges from the hills, and Diane’s heart beats faster the closer he comes. He smiles that smile ridden with half-remembered pain and stretches his hand towards her.

He came back, he came back like he promised, and they will watch the daisies together, celebrate the beginning of summer, and they will chase each other across the field of snow-dotted grass, and everything will —

 Summer comes. The stone walls of Megadoza emit a little less cold than throughout the rest of the year. Diane has nevertheless seized the opportunity to escape her training when another Giant distracted Matrona with a report on the last successful battle.

Outside of the Giant capital, a mild breeze brushes the dry grass, and the scent of wild roses and thyme greets Diane’s nostrils. How wonderful to finally trade the endless combat sessions for a simple walk. There is nothing to worry about, except for the nasty butterflies bobbing across the plain in search for nectar. Diane narrows her eyes. Just because they top the ranks of the least disgusting insects doesn’t mean she welcomes them to ruin this perfect afternoon.

One of the confused yellow butterflies discovers the sweet plant juice it is looking for, but Diane’s Giant shadow succeeds in chasing the bug away. In its place, a white flower amidst the clover remains.

A daisy.

Where did she learn that name? The person who first taught her about this flower must have been someone important. But Diane’s head is all fuzzy.

She kneels down and brushes the delicate petals. “You apologize too much,” she says, but she can’t figure out what this sentence means or why the words sprung to her mind just now.

Diane has never cared much for flowers. But something about daisies and the first days of summer sparks a warmth that makes the days at Megadoza more bearable.

If only she could remember…

#kianeweek #kianeweek2020 #nnt #nanatsu no taizai #nnt fanfiction #my writing #king x diane #kiane #king #diane #i hope you like FEELS #patterns and repetition are such fun writing tools

[blackssuunn-mandoandyodito]

Big dreams, expensive taste

Part two: you can't light a fire without a spark

Read part one here

Pairing: Maxwell Lord x f!reader

Rating: M

Words: 3.3k

A/N: this is still setting ground to the story but I hope you like it. Everything mentioned about NY is written by research alone, I've never been there but I love the city. Also, I need to clarify this is a Modern!AU. Enjoy!

Warnings: SMUT, nervousness, brief f masturbation, slight power kink. Let me know if I should add something.

Summary: What happens after you first met Mr. Lord? How will it go?

(humor me and imagine this is him but blonde please)

The thing about New York is, simply, you either multitask and adapt or die.

Midtown Manhattan is one of the blessings that found your way when you arrived in the city, despite how crazy it mostly is. Filled with tourists that walk through Times Square, cry at the price tags in the Fifth Avenue and stare in awe up the Empire State, so many cultures and languages mixing in the same zone can be quite overwhelming. But that's exactly what New York is about.

 After renting with an asshole for three years in a shoebox and saving every single penny you didn't need to spend, you finally had reunited enough money to pay the initial rent that most apartments asked for and enough left of that to fix whatever may need to be fixed.

Back then, your roommate had been taking a girl every night to the apartment you shared, and you could hear the moans and screams that were most likely fake through the wall separating your rooms that resembled more of paper than an actual wall. You were so fed up with it that one day you just decided to go apartment hunting, alone and angry.

You had to go through hours of walking and walking. Anything over 3,000 was too much and even that was pushing it. Most of the ones you could afford were even smaller than the one you were living in, and the ones you liked were way out of your budget.

By some kind of miracle and while you were walking down 53th Street on the verge of tears and with a slice of pizza in your hand, a studio apartment came into your life.

And you didn't even stop to think about it.

It had been three years of 12-hour shifts 6 days a week, and you can't find a good enough apartment for 2,000 dollars every day, much less in New York. So when you saw the opportunity, you took it.

The Third Avenue lets you see the usual office buildings that are often associated with Midtown Manhattan, while the side of the Second Avenue resembles more of a residential neighborhood, with jazz clubs and cafés in sight wherever you look to.

While Midtown's prices tend to be through the roof, you could afford to pay for that one without too much trouble and without sweating it a lot. Sure, it wasn't as big as you wanted to but not a shoebox either. A perfect in-between.

Living on the last floor of the building also had the luxury of being near the roof and letting you see out the window to marvel at the skyscrapers of one side and the more calm neighborhoods of the other. It was a weird resemblance of living at the coast, where two worlds crash together. Letting you be far enough of the chaos to be able to breathe and relax but not such that made you forget where you were living at.

Extremely convenient, considering that the entrance for the Subway was just a few steps away. There were also lots of bars near the area, and one of the most important rules of New York is to have a go-to place, just to be safe. Thankfully, the zone provided plenty of that.

It needed some fixing up, a little paint, and slight trouble with stuff in the kitchen. But after some weeks of Diane and other friends helping you, it slowly became the place you had always dreamed of.

Which is why, at the end of your shift, when you go to Maxwell Lord's office and the old lady from before lets you in with a warm smile, the fact that his office is bigger than your place is, to put it simply, infuriating.

Your mandatory heels click as you walk inside his office, forcing your back to stay upright once his heavy glance hits you full force. His eyebrow arches just as you stop a few steps away from his desk, not showing any sign of being intimidated by the way he's sitting with his legs open and leaning back on his chair.

Not at all intimidated.

Propping his elbow on the armrest of his chair, he rests his chin on his open palm and grins. The visual is one that reminds you of the kings and queens sitting at their thrones on the series you often binge watch when you're not too tired to do so.

You clean your throat, mustering up all seriousness that you can.

"Did you ask to see me, sir?"

Surprisingly, your voice doesn't waver for even a second as you talk, satisfying the part inside of you that resists on giving to Maxwell Lord's power.

He sighs, shaking his head slightly. With one hand, he waves at you to sit at the chair in front of his desk. The rings that garnish his fingers glint to the last glimpses of sunlight that his office takes in. The back walls are complete crystal, from the floor to the ceiling.

The ones that give to the building are Oxford grey, with a cabinet full of the best liquor you've ever seen to the left side and a white boardroom table to the right. It's arranged in a way that if he sits at the edge, everyone else is facing him with their backs to the landscape. You guess that sitting there feels like hanging at the edge of a cliff when you either accept whatever the man in front of you asks or you fall.

It starts to feel like that when you take a sit in front of him and he leans towards you, studying every movement you dare to do and the ones you stop yourself from doing.

"Are you satisfied with the position you're currently in?"

It takes you a second to realize that he's talking about work, not other things that your mind kindly provides. You squirm slightly under his eyes, without looking away.

"Yes sir," you answer, "it is one I am good at that has a good salary and flexible schedule"

He hums, lowering his eyes to the files spread over his desk that you hadn't realized were there. 

You squint your eyes to get a good look at what he's reading.

All the blood leaves your face when you realize those are your files.

"Wouldn't you like a promotion?" He asks, not bothering to look at you as he moves the papers. 

You frown at him, confused. A promotion? 

"And what would it be, sir?" You say, hesitant to voice your question. He smiles at you and closes the folder, moving it aside as he leans towards you with his fingers interlaced.

"A few days ago my assistant quit" he answers, smirking knowingly of something you're unaware of. "I've been searching for someone to take their place, and I think you might be just perfect for it"

You clear your throat, amazed at how straight forward he is. No wonder why he's one of the most respected, if not feared millionaires.

"And why would you think that, sir?"

There's a clicking sound as he spreads his palms on his glass desk and rests his back on his chair, looking you up and down. 

"You are very good at setting limits," he answers, "your files also say that you have experience in accountancy and management. You've been an assistant previously, which means you also know how this works" 

You nod, looking at him straight in the eye.

You gulp as his eyes harden and his voice gets colder, deeper. "What I need right now is someone who can support my work and have a good effect on the success of my company. I need someone who tells me the truth and not what they think I want to hear"

He takes a deep breath and tilts his head, waiting for your answer.

Of course, you were fully capable of doing a good job, but that was not why you were hesitating on giving him a yes right away. The reputation of being a total asshole with his close workers was most likely not unfounded.

At your hesitation, he frowns at you.

"Is there a problem miss?"

You grip the chair with your fingers, torn between saying something and keeping quiet. 

Ultimately, you take the decision to see for yourself if the rumors are true.

"When will I start?"

The big smile that spreads through his face sends shivers down your spine, gulping but repressing the desire to run away and hide.

"8 AM sharp tomorrow, don't be late. You can get my schedule from Amanda outside"

You nod as his look on you lingers for more than it's deemed appropriate, rolling one of his rings between his fingers with an arched eyebrow.

"You can leave now," he says, dismissive. 

You quickly stand up and smooth your clothes, tilting your head at him.

"Thank you, sir"

He doesn't say anything else as you walk away, but he calls you just as you're about to step outside his office, stopping you abruptly. You turn around, tense.

"I sincerely hope you live up to my standards," he says, with a strong voice without a trace of the amusement you had heard before. 

You're not sure if that's supposed to be a compliment or an insult. Your eyes harden, and you clench your hands at your sides, straightening.

"With all due respect sir, if you doubt of my capacity for the job you shouldn't have considered me in the first place"

Your answer startles him, and for a moment you think he'll fire you on the spot at the flame that seems to light in his eyes when he clenches his jaw. 

But he only sits straight and nods at you, lips pursed in a thin line.

"Good night," you say, walking away with shaking hands once again. He only blinks, so you step outside the office with strong steps and not looking back, missing his smirk as he hears you talk to Amanda, arranging things for your first day as his executive assistant tomorrow.

He hopes you survive, he's become quite fond of you.

When you arrive home, every muscle feels sore already from the tension you had felt every second close to Maxwell Lord. You sigh as the sound of the keys resonate through the apartment once you step inside and leave them at the table. The heels feel even more burdening than other days, and you can't help but wonder how it will be from tomorrow on.

You shake your head and decide to take your mind off of it. Stripping off your clothes, you go take a shower. 

The hot water feels amazing as it runs down your body, easing out all stress of the day from your muscles. With your eyes closed, you wash your body delicately, almost like a caress. 

Before you know it, your mind starts to drift to your boss, at how powerful he looked sitting at his chair inside his office on top of New York, how he had looked at you with such hunger it made you shiver and burn with something you had never experienced before.

The man in your imagination starts to walk towards you, smirking and with his hands inside his pockets as you have your back to the crystal. He's cornering you, not letting you any option to get away even if you wanted to.

But the point is, you don't. 

You squeeze your eyes shut inside the shower as your hand moves down to your clit, circling slowly and sending pleasure up your spine.

The man in your fantasies grins at you once you're too close to the glass, afraid of fully leaning into it. 

He tilts his head, eyes blown and dark with a glint of mischief in them.

"Aren't you afraid to fall?" The illusion asks, extending his hand to your neck and caressing it with a ghost touch. Goosebumps spread through your skin when his thumb traces a line up to your lips, outlining them and making you open your mouth.

You shakily nod, letting him manhandle you to turn around and put your palms flat against the window. 

You gasp at the sudden change, and he kicks open your legs so you're slightly bent over in front of him, facing the city.

His breath hits hard against your neck as he stands flush against you, moving his hand behind you and pulling your skirt up, leaving you exposed to him. One of his fingers hook at your underwear and pulls down, grazing your wetness and making you jump.

"Stay still." He whispers next to your ear, pushing his body against yours to pin you to the clear surface.

The real you jumps when you let yourself lean to the wall, breaking you out of your daydream when your skin touches the cold tiles.

Guilt creeps into your mind and replaces the red hot fantasy that your brain decided to create and torture you with.

You shake your head, thinking about other things. The fantasy must have been a result of the tension and tiredness, you chose to accept. After all, not every day you meet the owner of the company you work in and he decides to make you his closest co-worker.

You finish showering quickly after that, not letting your mind slip away from your actions as you dry yourself and then go to bed.

Your phone dings with a received message, but your mind is too far away from consciousness to do anything about it.

The first thing you do in the morning is call Diane and let her know your change of job, and the way she screams at your ear makes you flinch.

"How the fuck did that happen!?" She asks, as you climb down the stairs and then walk down the block to the entrance of the Subway with the MetroCard tightly held in your hand.

"I still don't know," you answer, "he simply asked if I wanted to and I just said yes"

Diane giggles and you roll your eyes at what she must be thinking. She seems to sing "Money, Money, Money" by ABBA under her breath, and it makes you laugh a little.

"And are you sure?" She asks.

"Too late to think about it, "you say. "But judging by what I saw on his schedule, the man doesn't even sleep"

"Which means you probably won't either" she finishes just as the background noise of people comes with her voice. Living in Queens and arriving by the up ground stations must grant her of service, but no one inside the subway appreciates someone talking on the phone, so you decide to end the call.

"I guess." you say, "I'll call you later, I'm about to enter the subway"

Diane wishes you luck, says goodbye, and hangs up. The rest of your trip goes with the usual maniac activity of the New York Subway, a void at the bottom of your stomach as you get closer and closer to your stop. You must have a terrified expression on your face because at least 5 different people look at you with concern in their eyes, and no one ever pays attention to someone else in the morning. You sincerely hope their concern turns out to be unfounded.

The sound of your heels clicking as you go inside the building and go straight to the elevator is a big contrast to just arriving at the lobby and starting to work right away. Your hands feel sweaty when they grip your briefcase, not used to carrying one around. There's even some cold sweat in your forehead, but you quickly wipe it off. 

The ding of the elevator makes you jump when it arrives at Maxwell Lord's office floor, and you straighten again when you go out and walk towards it. Your cheeks feel hot when you remember the night before, but your mind quickly brushes it away. You're nervous enough as it is.

His voice hits your ears the closer you get to the door and Amanda is already there, looking at you with what you guess is supposed to be an encouraging smile. She must have a lot of experience dealing with him. 

"He's waiting for you," she says, "his first meeting is at nine o'clock, and he wants you to manage it"

Not trusting your voice, you nod and smile at her, going inside the room. 

His gaze immediately rises from what appears to be a contract and looks at you with the beginning of a smirk tugging at his lips, and he waves you to come closer. You oblige, keeping all emotion that may be going through you by showing a stoic face. 

"Give me a moment," he says to the phone, then covers the speaker and turns to you. "I need you to work here with me, so your own office will be there"

He points to a smaller office at the corner of the room that you had failed to see previously, with a dark crystal barrier that most likely will let you see to his office but not let him see to yours. 

You nod and walk to the door, opening without expecting much. 

What greets you is quite the opposite.

There's a big desk with white orchids at the edge, with one side against the wall and a computer ready to be used in the middle, a fancy coffee maker in a kitchenette at the other side of the room and a small cupboard stuck to the wall on top of the sink. There are even some shelves with books about finances and management next to your desk. Another door is behind your chair, two steps away if you stand up.

You walk to open it and discover you've also got your own bathroom, with white tiles and a golden faucet. It looks so neat you're afraid of getting inside, so you close the door.

Having your own space to work feels slightly overwhelming. From spending all day dealing with people to having a room for yourself feels like a huge change done in just a day.

But out of everything that apparently comes with working for the CEO of Lord Enterprises directly, what takes the breath out of you is the sight you have of the city. 

The city shines in front of your eyes, with yellow dots navigating the streets and hordes of people running from one point to another. You can see everything from there, almost all of Central Park filled with trees that soon will turn brown and yellow in the fall, windows that let you see how a lot of people start waking up and continue living, businesses that open to provide people with food, coffee or even just a place for people to take his mind away, sit down and breathe for a second.

The view brings tears to your eyes. This is the city that became your home when you arrived, full of wild activity and even wilder people. New York, after all. 

You smile, realizing that this is closer to what you were searching for. There’s a new sense of excitement in your chest, full of expectation and desire to conquer. You feel ready for anything. 

But his voice breaks you out of the moment when he calls your name.

"Please come here," you hear muffled through the crystal, and you can see how his chair is completely turned towards you with one leg up the other one and his fingers interlaced on top of his lap, looking at your door without really seeing anything, frowning. 

So you take a deep breath and walk out again, with renewed energy. You know that, no matter how hard it may be, you're now on top of the world.

Tag list (let me know if you want to be added):

@evidenceofzoe @the-feckless-wonder @aeryntheofficial @cryptkeepersoul @cable-kenobi @fruitsaladtree

#maxwell lord x you #maxwell lord x reader #maxwell lord #ww84 #ww84 fanfiction #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal #my writing #reader insert

[linkysmommy]

The Time That Came Between

PART I

Part II link here

Fandom: It Lives in the Woods

Pairing: Noah Marshall x fem MC

Words: 3,057

Summary: What happened to Noah after Jazmyn Park sacrificed herself and he fled Westchester?

Warnings: Some minor swearing, topics of drug use and addiction

Author’s note: This is basically my imagination of what happened to Noah after he left Westchester and before he realized that MC was still somewhat cognizant as the shadow monster. I definitely have some creative liberties and my own thoughts on the dark path Noah went on after everything went down. It shouldn’t be too long, but I’m splitting it into parts. It’ll probably be between 5-6 parts when all is finished.

The first thing he noticed was the overwhelming stench of sour, rotting garbage.

Then came the God-awful pain.

It felt like there was a bonfire burning in Noah’s back. The muscles in his body screamed and throbbed, and his body shook violently. He weakly opened his eyes, and could barely see because they were so watery. It was like this every morning when he woke up. But somehow, that didn’t make it any better.

He managed to push himself into a sitting position as he tried to put together where the hell he was. He rubbed the film away from his eyes and glanced around himself. He was sitting in an apartment parking lot, his back pushed up against a huge dumpster bin. A trail of gooey water dripped from the trash can and trickled down the cement pavement. The morning sun shone in colorful rays through the filth, and he could hear the morning hum of cars and commuters as the responsible population began their days. A street cat hissed and rustled through the trash, and one of the windows in the building across from him burst open as yells from the people inside drifted out into the morning.

Noah sighed and leaned his head against the metal trash bin. He didn’t even care that his shirt was soaked with trash water, or that the side of his face was still covered with gravel from the ground. All he could focus on was the pain and discomfort. His burning back, his aching muscles, his runny nose, the wave of nausea that crashed over him.

He should get up, go to his apartment, take a shower, get dressed. He should get to work on time and save some money so he’d be able to go far away and leave forever. But no. Instead, he woke up in front of a dumpster and the first thing he did was reach for his phone. He hated everything about himself as he turned on the screen and dialed the person he simultaneously hated most and needed most in this entire world.

But he was too weak. So he called Reynold anyway.

The phone rang, and rang, and rang. Terror seized through him and his hand began to shake uncontrollably. What if Reynold didn’t pick up? What if—

Before Noah could think much, a very unhappy voice on the other line answered.

“The hell you want? It’s 7:00 in the morning.”

“I need some,” Noah said. “Where can I meet you?”

The voice on the other end scoffed. “Are you serious? You already blew through what I sold you two days ago?”

“It’s been… a rough couple of days.”

Reynold fell silent, which pissed Noah off. He was the one funding this guy, yet Reynold acted like he was the nuisance. Finally, Reynold let out a long sigh. “I’m busy today Malcolm. I don’t have time to—”

“I’ll pay you double. Hell, I’ll pay you triple. Just tell me where to meet you and when.”

Reynold grumbled something under his breath, but then he agreed. Soon, Noah had the place and information typed into his old, cracked phone. Now all he had to do was survive six more hours until they met up. Even that long seemed like more torture than he could stand.

Noah didn’t know how long he sat there, feeling like complete and utter shit. It could’ve been minutes, or it could’ve been hours. All he knew was that when two middle school girls crossed in front of him to head to their bus stop, chattering excitedly about some TV show, the expression on their faces when they saw him was enough to make him want to kill himself.

There was fear in their faces. Fear that the dirty, grimy man sitting by the dumpster would hurt them. Noah lowered his gaze and they hurried past. And he wished, for what must have been the thousandth time in the past twenty-four hours, that his life had never been so goddamn awful that he felt the only way he could survive was through losing himself to heroin. 

He wished that it had been him who took Redfield’s place, and not Jaz.

Never Jaz.

***

The bell jingled as Noah stepped into the gas station where he worked. A handful of customers browsed the shelves, and crouched in one of the aisles was his supervisor, Russ, probably doing inventory.

The door clattered shut behind Noah and he tried to sneak past Russ. But, like some freaking bloodhound, he looked up the moment Noah took a step. Russ’s eyes narrowed and his face flushed with anger. He stood, the item scanner hanging loosely from one hand.

“You’re late again, Johnson.” Russ glanced pointedly at the clock, then back at Noah. “Twenty-two minutes late, to be exact.”

“I’m aware of that,.” Noah said, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. “I ran into some… stuff.”

Russ did roll his eyes. “That’s not an excuse. Not when it happens every day.”

“Yeah, well. I’m here now so let me get to work.” Noah shouldered past Russ to the employees only area. It wasn’t much, but there was a wall with hooks where he could hang his jacket, and shelves and shelves full of supplies. 

Noah hung his jacket and took a deep, calming breath. He hated this job. He hated how Russ thought he was worse than dirt, and he hated how much he resented that. After what he’d done, he didn’t deserve to be treated well by anyone. He deserved every ounce of hatred every single person had to spare.

He brushed his fingers over the scarred skin on the inside of his elbow. It was rough, and still tingled with his most recent dose. He was a coward for trying to find something to ease the pain, to make him forget. It was only fair that the drug no longer made him feel anything other than normal. Where it once had left him feeling powerful and nearly happy, now all it did was make him need it when he wasn’t using, and when he was using he just felt normal.

And normal… wasn’t exactly what he wanted.

The one good thing about Jaz sacrificing herself for him was that at least she didn’t have to live to see him like this. This pathetic shell of a man she thought was worth enough that she decided to die for him.

Noah squeezed his eyes shut and pressed his hand into his forehead. Forget about this. Don’t think. Just get out and do your job, go home, shoot up, go to sleep, repeat. Keep going. Just survive. 

He took one last calming breath, took a moment to steel himself… and then stepped back into the front.

As he approached the counter to take his position for the day., the girl standing behind it glared at him.

“Finally. You made me stay late, you jerk. I’ve been here since 12 AM!”

“Yeah… sorry Diane,” Noah said sheepishly, fumbling awkwardly with the edge of his beanie. “I’m here now though, so you can leave.”

Diane peered up at him from behind the counter and her scowl melted away into a grin. “I’m just teasing, Malcolm! No need to be so serious. Of course I’m not mad at you.”

“Oh! Right. Of course.” Noah forced a laugh and sidled behind the counter. 

Ever since the cops found Jaz’s broken body last September and Noah had become the prime suspect, he’d been on the run, never staying anywhere for too long. He spent time in Montana, Idaho, Utah, and Nevada. He never finished high school, and instead took to getting himself fake IDs and socials just to find work wherever he could get it. But now, he was back in Oregon, a mere three hours away from where it all started: Westchester.

Noah had only been working at this convenience store for two months, but no one in any of his other jobs paid attention to him like Diane did. She knew nothing real about him—she thought his name was Malcolm Johnson and that he moved from Missouri to live with his aunt—but she always invited him out, always found ways to tease him, always tried to make him smile.

And she was cute and pretty and sweet, but she was no Jaz. No one could ever even begin to compare to Jazmyn Park.

“Well now that somebody’s here, I’m gonna go get changed and get the hell out of here,” Diane said with a smirk, nudging Noah as she sashayed out from behind the counter.

“I said I was sorry,” Noah called after her. She just waved and disappeared into the employee area.

Noah let out a sigh and leaned his elbows against the countertop. The store wasn’t very busy right now, so he’d just get to stand there for hours, doing nothing. Doing nothing was hard because when you were doing nothing, there wasn’t anything to distract you from the terrible things you didn’t want to think about. He much preferred busy days to slow days.

The door jingled and Noah heard footsteps as people entered the store. He couldn’t see the door from where he stood. He hoped it was a munchy druggy or a parent with kids. Those people always bought the most stuff, which meant more time to be occupied.

“…Been a whole year now,” a familiar voice drifted over to where Noah stood. “And nobody knows where he is.”

Noah’s eyebrows shot up and he glanced furtively around the store. The newcomers to the store stepped out from behind a row of shelves and then, standing across the room with his back to Noah was a man with a flannel shirt and shoulder-length blond hair. A man Noah recognized all to well. Connor Green.

“Shit,” Noah muttered. His heart pounded in his chest and his mouth felt dry. “Shit shit shit sh—” 

Connor started turning, so Noah did the only thing he could think of. He dropped to his hands and knees behind the desk, disappearing from view.  Diane exited out of the employees-only area just as he did, and he saw confusion flit across her face.

“I miss Jaz,” Connor said. “She was really… somethin’ else. I still can’t believe she’s gone.”

A very unjustified but burning hatred for that man flared up inside Noah. He remembered being at the hardware store, shopping for supplies to go up against Mr. Red—Jane. He remembered how Connor flirted with Jaz and how she flirted right back. And he remembered the day Andy asked them if they wanted to go to homecoming. Noah had said, “Seems kinda pointless to go without a date. And I’m… not really in a good place for that. Dating, I mean.” Then he asked Jaz who she wanted to go with and she turned around and went straight to Connor.

He knew he had no right to be angry about it. He’d told Jaz that he wasn’t in a place for dating, and he probably would’ve said no if she’d asked him. But when she decided to ask Connor and Noah responded with “Good luck,” he really had just wanted to clock Connor in the face.

“Do you think they’ll ever catch Noah?” another voice—a woman this time—asked. Noah’s heart nearly froze at the mention of his own name and he frantically tried to place the voice. Then he realized—it was Stacy Green, of course.

Another pair of hands and knees fell onto the ground beside Noah and he started, jumping back and nearly slamming against the back wall.

Diane watched him with an amused expression. Her short black pixie cut was messily styled and her dark makeup made her features stand out against pale skin. “What’re we doing down here, Johnson?” she asked.

“Uh…” His mind raced frantically, trying to come up with some sort of explanation. Some sort of truth and lie mixture that could get him out of this mess. “I know those people from high school. And, uh, they were snobby assholes who hated me. So, I just don’t  want them to know I work here, okay?”

The amusement faded from Diane’s eyes and she nodded solemnly. “I understand. I know I already clocked out, but… I can cover for you until they leave.”

“Really?” Noah couldn’t hide the relieved smile that stole onto his face. 

“Oh yeah,” Diane said. “But you owe me.”

“Okay yeah, that’s fair. What do you want? I can cover your hours or—“

“A date,” Diane said with a smug smile, and before he could protest she bounced to her feet and pasted a winning smile onto her face.

“Hiiii,” she greeted. Noah wondered if she was talking to Connor and Stacy. All he could see was the gross tile, front counter, and Diane’s legs. “Can I help you with something?”

“Hey,” Connor’s voice said. “Cute shirt, by the way.”

Noah wanted to barf. Flirting with random strangers was so Connor.

“We just wanted to buy a few things and ask a few questions, if that’s all right?” Stacy said. Noah could practically hear the smile in her voice.

“Okay, shoot!” Diane said.

Noah heard the sound of items being dropped on the counter, and then the register creaking like it did whenever anyone leaned on it. He could imagine Connor leaning against it now, looking at Diane with the stupid flirtatious smirk he always used on Jaz.

“We were wondering—” it was Connor again “—have you heard of anyone… suspicious running through these parts?”

Diane let out a sharp laugh. “Is that all you’ve got to go off of? I’m sorry, sweetie, but if I told you all the suspicious people I’ve seen around here I’d be listing names ‘til midnight.”

Noah snorted silently. Leave it to Diane to handle a situation like this so perfectly.

He heard Stacy sign in aggravation. “Connor, maybe I should handle this.” There were shuffling footsteps, rustling of the contents of a purse, and something being slapped onto the countertop. “Have you seen anyone who looks like this man? About this tall, almost always wears a beanie? His name is Noah but he probably goes by something else?”

All traces of a smile evaporated from Noah’s face. His heart started to race with panic. He chanced a look up at Diane’s face, and her eyes were narrowed, her mouth tugged into a frown.

Silence. No sound besides a ticking clock and Russ shuffling around the aisles. Diane stared at the counter, at what Noah was sure was a picture of him. He held his breath, waiting for her to jump aside and say, “Oh you’re looking for this guy? Here he is, take him!”

But instead, she shook her head. Her voice was tight. “Nope, never heard of a ‘Noah.’ Also never seen this guy. Sorry.”

Relief flooded through Noah, almost as satisfying a feeling as a heroin high. Diane wasn’t giving him up. At least not yet.

Connor sighed loudly. “Do you have any idea who might know something? This is important. We got a tip that he moved to this area recently but so far, we’ve found nothing.”

“I don’t know,” Diane said. “Why’re you looking for him? Maybe if I knew I could point you to the right people.” 

Noah frantically grabbed her foot, trying to somehow signal to her to not ask these questions. But she shook him off and kept staring straight forward.

“It’s kind of… a personal thing,” Stacy said.

“Well I can’t help if you don’t tell me anything,” Diane countered.

“Look,” Connor interceded. “The police are after him for something he actually didn’t do. We think we might be able to help him, but he’s dodging us.”

Diane glanced down at Noah for a fraction of a second. Then she shrugged. “A person on the run? I’d look for them in Lensgate Park. Or maybe check out the baseball field on eleventh. Tons of shady people hang out there. They might know something.”

“Lensgate Park…” Stacy repeated slowly, probably entering it into her phone. “Okay. And you said eleventh?”

“Yup,” Diane said dryly. “Is there anything else I can help you with?”

“Nope,” Connor said. “You’ve been great. I hope you have a great shift.”

Finally, finally, the footsteps sounded once again, the bell rang as it was opened, and then the door slammed shut. Noah barely had time to reorient himself before Diane reached down and pulled him roughly to his feet.

“Malcolm, what the hell was that about? Who were those people? They weren’t high school bullies, this was something else entirely. And Noah? The cops? What. The. HELL.”

“Diane, Diane,” Noah said, grabbing her by the arms. “Look, those people are from where I grew up, and they… they can’t be trusted.” His mind scrambled to come up with some sort of excuse, but all he could see was Jaz, over and over again. Her terror when she realized he tricked them, her body, broken in his arms… “Um, they, want to frame me—”

Diane scoffed and glared into his honey brown eyes. “Do you expect me to believe that? Are you just one big lie?”

Noah fell back a step, the color draining from his face. “I—”

“Save it, Malcolm. If that’s even your real name.” Diane skirted around the counter and headed for the door. “I backed you up because I liked you, but whatever you’re involved in, I don’t want any part in it. You can forget about the date.”

Noah’s eyebrows knit together as he watched her head out the front door, never looking back. Russ came out from one of the aisles, glancing between Noah and Diane.

“What happened with you two?” Russ asked.

Noah skirted around the counter, removing the name badge he wore on his shirt. “Sorry, Russ, but consider this my resignation.”

He dropped the badge on the counter and shouldered past a shocked Russ.

“Wh—what?” Russ sputtered, chasing after Noah. “Johnson, if you leave it’s just me and Tom. I need the coverage, at least wait until tomorrow—”

“Stuff came up,” Noah said, pushing the glass door open with his shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Russ.”

Russ watched helplessly from the sidewalk as Noah slid into his old beat-up car. He turned the radio on high as he backed out of the parking lot.

He was going to Lensgate Park, or maybe the baseball field on Eleventh.

He was going to figure out what Stacy and Connor knew.

***

Post-note: I wrote this a while ago and wasn’t going to finish but that fic by @isometimesplaychoices inspired me to continue and finish this fic, ily friend!! 

#fic #noah fic #noah x mc #the time that came between #ilitw #it lives in the woods #it lives anthology #noah marshall #playchoices #choices #choices fic #noah marshall x mc #it lives in the woods fic #fanfic #choices fanfic #noah marshall fic #ilb #it lives #it lives fic #pixelberry #lol i forgot to tag this so I’m going overboard now

[aliynavenus]

DamiRae Fanfic: “Vulnerable”

part one || part 2 : “Frustrated” || word count 2K+

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

“You guys look like death.”  Dick couldn’t believe what he was seeing, Jon and Beast Boy with their uncontrollable hair following with stains of god knows what on their clothes, and might add the clear view of dry drool on their cheek with huge bags under their eyes.

“Sorry, we didn’t have time to get cleaned before this conference.” Jon rubs his eyes giving a sound of guilt. 

Kori shakes her head in disbelief that they had barely woken up from their little party. Before another word could come out of either of them she spoke, 

“Now that everyone is here let me begin with the standard mission I mentioned.” automatically a rather large screen appears before her, “We have had an increasing number of meta-humans encounters but what’s strange is that these past meta-humans we’ve faced have turned into ash once we defeat them. What’s even stranger is that all reports show that these meta humans never even showed a record of powers before meets with them.” 

“These are criminals. What should it matter to us what happens to them.” Damian cuts in tauntingly knowing that this didn't sound like another skirmish mission to fight them. 

Of course Kori knew where Damian was going with this, “Actually, Damian this concerns us now. Firstly with the question of why they are turning into ash towards the end. It has come to our attention that recently every meta-human that we have faced have all been in this exact location, ‘21 and over,’ 2 days prior before we encountered them. As well as witnesses claiming that they never saw them leave or make it to a cab home.” 

Raven raises an eyebrow, “Could it be coincidence?. It’s a nightclub what's so threatening there than the reek of alcohol.” She had to admit she was more persuading Kori that it was a coincidence considering she wanted nothing to do with this mission.

“Which is why this place needs to be investigated. The league and I have concluded that these vigilantes designate more as victims. We believe something is going on inside this club that could be making them act out considering their clean criminal record.” Kori nodded to her team for reassurance. “The mission tomorrow is simple. You four will go in under cover to this club to find any insights that could help us understand the increase in these attacks. Terra, Beast Boy you will go on patrol tomorrow instead implying that since it’s the first day of this mission we just need to make sure something is genuinely going on, we will alert you until further notice. You all are dismissed.” the teammates nodded in agreement knowing their roles for the next day as they strayed away from the couch. 

Damian knew this mission wasn’t going to test his abilities in the slightest; it made him almost groan in disgrace by how unimpressed he was by it.  He couldn’t help but notice as Raven still settled across from him on the couch picking up the book beside her. His heart began to race faintly as he watched her delicate fingers wrap around the story. Her radiant violet eyes wandering each word she read with her soft lips in a small pout. Any little thing she did could make him weak, staring at her like she was art. Art that he wanted. 

His thought began to drift imagining her on this mission. Being able to see her in something he’s never witnessed her in. A tight hugging dress that would display her magnificent figure before him. He sunk his teeth into his lower lip absorbing the image that he wanted to burn into his mind forever. Fingers lingering down her body savoring every part he caressed, needing to do every little thing to make her feel cherished. The need of wanting to claim her could nearly destroy him, wanting to be able to satisfy her. Not with words but with pleasure and admiration.

No…! Shaking his head deliberately, feeling a sinful pleasure coming from below his navel. Dammit. Like a hormonal wreck of a teenager. It was frustrating. He lifted his body from the couch careful to not bring the attention towards him and his -- now -- guilty pleasurable sin that was arousing in his pants. 

Gods he really needed to train himself better at keeping his hormonal thoughts restrained. 

~~

In its final hours of the day when the sky became an empty nightfall the titans prepared to go to sleep, except the young empath in the amazon’s room. 

Raven rolled her eyes watching Donna destroy her closet looking for the perfect outfit for their night of clubbing tomorrow. “It’s only a day we’re going we might not find any hard evidence to stay another day.” 

Donna whips her head back scoffing at Raven’s nonchalant words, “One day Raven? That’s exactly the point, it's only one day we’re able to dress all cute yet still be badass heroes we are. Besides can you actually see this is a great opportunity for Damian to see....your body.” she smirks, eyeing raven seeing color ride up her skin. 

Dropped her body back into the bed running a hand over her face biting back a groan. That was exactly her point; she didn’t want Damian to see her like that. She felt pathetic. A hero who has literally dealt with a demon is scared what a boy would think of her all dressed up. It was humiliating. 

“Here you can wear this.” Raven’s sight replaced with black as a piece of clothing was thrown on her face. She raises her back from the bed pulling the item away to get a full sight of what it is.Her lips part forming a small ‘o’ Are you kidding? She couldn't believe what she was seeing. 

The low too low V of the sold wine colored dress attached with spaghetti strap gold chains that later cross one another revealing an open back. The dress naturally shaped in an hourglass form just by holding it up with her fingers. Would this dress even pass her behind just by looking how incredibly short it was. She had to admit it was a stunning dress but it also pulled all her miseries and feasted it in front of her eyes. It was like looking at a goddess mess that she oddly felt dare she say….intrigued. 

“How’d you get this” her head questioning every aspect as to why Donna had this in her closet. 

“Diane led me her credit card to buy it when I had to go to one of her banquets that she was hosting” 

Gods what kind of banquet was this. 

She feels the soft fabric beneath her fingers, it felt comfortable and breathable at least.

“Thanks Donna. I’ll give it back after” 

“Anytime! Now i gotta find what I’m going to wear.” her voice in a mufle with her head deep in her closet, legs dangling outside as if she was swallowed by the depths of it. 

Looking at the clock next to Donna’s nightstand, 11:43. She knew that was cue to leave, “Goodnight, Donna.” 

Beginning to walk to her proper room her eyes widened when she saw Damian. Standing in front of her door with a hesitant knuckle close to the frame. It was unusual, rare even to see him at her door at this hour. A memory hit when the last time he was here this late at night was when those nightmares would take over her that he would come barging into her room.  

“Um, hey. You need something?” His attention was brought to her voice that was nearing him, seeing a piece of clothing neatly folded in her arms. 

Crap. How long has she been standing there? Embarrassment filled his body. He bit the inside of his cheek narrowing his eyes, truth be told he didn’t know how to respond to her question, considering she caught him in the midst of his thoughts on what to say to her when he did get the guts to knock on her door. Not like he could simply just say, I couldn’t sleep. But I miss being with you. Holding you. I wanted to keep you company, can i stay for the night?  

God he needed to act quick, how stupid could he be. 

“I wanted to, to borrow a book of yours. I was wondering if you had it.” he cursed at how indecisive he sounded but only prayed that she brought it. 

Raven’s eyebrow raised, that's what he wanted? A book? For some reason she wished he wasn’t there just for that. “Uh yea, what book.” She walked to his front, opening her door entering inside to head towards her bookshelves she had in the corner of her room.

“Macbeth.” his voice far as she noticed he didn't step foot in her room. 

‘You can come in, you know.” 

In an instinct it was like his body pulled him inside, taking a full view of her familiar room that has always been on his mind. The warm comfort that this room brought to him. Looking towards the bed remembering the one place where he had her in his embrace. The only person he allowed to touch him. But dammit He wanted to touch her skin again. So fucking bad. 

The dim lighting coming from the street lights luminating her lavender theme room. He watched her knees land on the carpet looking for the stupid book. His tongue traced his bottom lip seeing her in that position fuck his sexual thoughts always overriding his mind. Her clothes were changed into a small denim skirt that did her well with an off the shoulder black top. 

“I know i have it, it should be back here.” His eyes widen seeing her body lean forward lifting her hips off from her heel to now being in the air. Holy shit his cock twitched by the sight. This was torture for him. The small clear view of her white panties, that he wanted to rip off and burn his fingers deep into her hips. Damian was already thinking of the countless ways he could take her. He wondered how long it’ll take to make her scream -- fairly not long -- with this lingering tongue deep inside her making her feel good, making her beg for mo-

“I found it here you go” his view now gone and thoughts vanished into thin air. As she rose from the ground holding the book in front of her. 

That damn book, the only thing separating them from his wanting touch. His eyes gazing at hers worshipping them as he always would. Automatically he placed his hand on the book, lifting it up to shorten the distance between them, as her grasp was still on it. 

His jaw tightening as he leant forward, “I didn’t come here for a book” his words were sharp inhaling the clinging scent of her chamomile with vanilla fragrance. 

“W-what did you--” 

Stars bursted when Damian grabbed the back of her head luring his lips onto hers in a rough desperate kiss. His mouth moving slowly against hers savoring every part. Hearing the book fall to the floor, he felt gracious when he sensed Raven lean forward, gripping the front of his shirt vigorously. Her knees becoming weak, when she felt his hand relocate from the back of her head to her cheek. Fingers tangled into her hair gripping her soft skin tenderly into their hot messy kiss. Their tongues battled for dominance feeling the lost of control each time they touched.

Her breath hitched when she felt his teeth sink into her bottom lip. Her winced caused him to run his tongue smoothing down her plump lip, he caused pleasurable pain to. Breathlessly sighing, tipping forward matching the rhyme of their lips to be in sink once again. He took that as a sign and gripped her velvety thigh pulling it towards his hips.

 This felt like possession. 

He didn’t care anymore. He didn’t need an advantage or the perfect moment. If he wanted her then so be it. He wanted her more than ever, before she could go out tomorrow where everyone could see her beauty. 

The loss of contact was given when the need for air came in. Raven loosened her grip from him as her stare fell to the ground. She was flustered, sexually, not wanting to look up at him, feeling bashful about what she just experienced. her fantasy- a dream come true. 

“Raven'' his voice low yet gentle, desperately wanting her eyes to meet his. Yet she couldn't. She was too embarrassed even if she enjoyed it. 

Shit. Worry started to consume him when she didn’t look up after a few moments. Did he make pathetic mistake? Thoughts being filled with negativity, being a fool who threw his lustful wants onto her. Putting the women he cherished the most in an experience that he wanted to fulfill unknowingly knowing how’d she react. A stupid child he was. 

He released his grip on her body feeling utter emptiness from his fingertips. Her head finally lifting to see his expression only to be left with Damian turning his back reverting to the door, “My apologizes. We’re teammates. I shouldn’t be here.” 

with that the room became absent of his being. 

Raven brushed her fingertips onto her throbbing lips still yet shocked that Damian Wayne, her best friend. The person she felt most vulnerable with. Her entire body shut down when he took a sudden action to do so and he just left, like that? Perhaps she did something wrong to cause him to leave, did he not enjoy it as much as she did. She was so overwhelmed that when she tried to identify his feelings with her abilities that she was only able to detect hers. 

“We’re teammates.” 

It felt like a sharp needle piercing through her heart when he referred to her as that. Making her feel like that and leaving, what kind of game was Damian playing, toying with her emotions. 

How dare he kiss her, making her feel frustrated…..it hurts her. It doesn’t just hurt, it breaks her. 

#damirae #damian x raven #raven x damian #demonbirds #damian wayne #rachel roth #teen titans #fanfiction #dc fanfiction #justice league apokolips war #donna troy #dc #dc comics #ahhh sorry it took awhile for this #part 3 coming soon yk what that means

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Are We The Fools?| Chapter One: Fall

The Series | Prologue 

Word count: 3800

Warnigns: cursing, mentions of sex

A/N: I know I took forever to write this, life isn’t easy at all. But here it is! I had a lot of fun writing this chapter, I hope you guys like it! I’m so soft for doofus!Rick, it was hard treating him like this.

                          ——————————————

One thing was certain: Rick Sanchez was in love.

All he could think was Diane: Diane and her soft, blonde hair; Diane and the sweet perfume she always wore; Diane’s beautiful green eyes; The flavor of her mouth during a kiss; Her small fingers running through his hair as she hungrily kissed him.

Diane. Diane. Diane.

He couldn’t get tired of her. Rick could remember all the moments he spent with her, for it was his favorite time of the day. Gosh, he even remembered — with his face and ears burning — their first kiss! It has been six months since they first started with their deal and Rick still thought it all could be a long dream.

It was Wednesday afternoon and classes were over. Putting his books inside his locker, his glance landed on a light blue piece of paper that fell at his feet. He quickly and discreetly picked it up and read.

“Will you help me getting ready for tomorrow’s exam, rabbit? 7:00 pm, at my place. Be good and you know what happens later ♡”

Rick felt his blood rising to his face again. It didn’t even need to show the sender, for he already knew it was Diane’s doing. She always send small notes telling him what to do and where to go, promising good things later.

The blue haired man quietly folded the paper and put it inside his ripped jeans pocket. Closing his locker, he started wandering through the corridors again.

He couldn’t help but get anxious imagining what Diane’d do after their study session. Biting his lower lip, his hand lightly rested against his left shoulder, over a specific sensitive spot close to his neck. The hickey Diane got him was right there, covered by his shirt and jacket. She always leaves marks on his body so Rick can remember that all these fever dreams were actually reality. He never dared to mark her, though, he couldn’t bear knowing that he hurt her soft skin.

Rick turned the corridor with his head down, trying not to show his reddened face to everyone who passed by. Remembering all the things he got to do with Diane makes him happy and embarrassed at the same time. Sadly, he knew the love of his life was kind of using him.

But was she really only using him?

There were times, right after some studying together, that she’d ask him which lipstick to use or if he liked how she did her hair. At these times, Rick got confused, since he didn’t expect her to care for his opinion, but would gladly tell her what could make her look even more stunning. And she actually used what he suggested. Carefully painting her lips and flirtatious curling a finger around a lock of her hair, she’d look at him with a malicious smile.

“Like this, rabbit?”

Rick scratched the back of his head and entered the chemistry lab, a goofy smile forming on his mouth. There was more. Diane, after some weeks with their agreement, actually asked him trivial questions. They sometimes talked about ordinary things like stupid TV shows and the food they like. Rick learned that her favorite color is mint green and that bunnies are the animals she likes the most — don’t even have to say how his heart melts every time she calls him rabbit since he discovered it. Diane even had spent hours on the phone with him, gossiping about her popular friends and complaining about something they said.

Humming a song, Rick started cleaning the laboratory as his teacher had asked him. And his mind couldn’t stop thinking that she asked for him. She kissed him because she wanted to, and she always came back for more. He never forced her to go to bed with him, she was the one seducing him every time. And it was his name she moaned, she cried out for him. That should count as something.

Rick covered his mouth, hiding the hopeful smile he was wearing from the emptiness of the laboratory. Yeah... maybe Diane actually was somewhat interested in him? He never saw her going out with other guys since they started their thing, it’s a fact. Part of him shyly assumed it was because he was enough for her, that she wouldn’t need anyone else if she had him.

The young man put some acids back in the cabinets and locked the glass doors. Throwing away the gloves he used to do such task, he turned the lights off. It was already past 5:35 pm and he had to prepare his notes for Diane’s studies.

“You being enough for her? Don’t be stupid, Rick.” He sighed and shook his head in order to get rid of the wonderful idea.

“Don’t be stupid.” Diane replied.

Rick froze. His heart started beating so fast he thought it was going to explode. Gosh, when did she enter the room? He definitely didn’t hear the distinct echo of her high heels. With sweat forming on his forehead, he slowly turned around with his hands raised in a defensive way, completely ready to face the death glare Diane always gives him when he does something stupid.

But what he saw was... nothing.

He was the only person in the room. Furrowing his eyebrow, his eyes searched for the blonde woman in the dark laboratory. No, she definitely wasn’t there. A low murmur could be heard and Rick carefully followed it. Slowly, he approached the large window in the right corner of the room. He looked outside and his heart skipped a beat.

Out there, he could see Diane with her back against the wall and a tall muscular man with his right arm beside her head, cornering her. Diane had an unamused expression on her face as the guy continued saying something Rick couldn’t hear. He had that cocky grin as he shamelessly analyzed her body.

Rick thought of fighting the man, of pushing him away from her and telling him to never look at her again, for he was the one who truly loved her. But before he could gather all the courage to do so, his eyes saw the kiss that man gave Diane. He firmly held her neck from behind and hungrily kissed her mouth. Diane stood still at first, but, when that guy pressed his body against hers, her arms wrapped around his neck and the kiss somehow got even more intense.

She wanted to kiss that man.

Rick couldn’t understand. He quietly took some steps back, his chest aching. Why was she kissing him back? He took some more steps and gulped, his throat dead dry. His mind screamed that, yes, she was kissing that guy the same way she kissed him: with the same fever and need.

He is not special.

She was just using him.

It was all a big joke.

Rick turned around and quickly made his way towards the door. He abruptly stopped, feeling something wetting both of his cheeks. His right hand lightly touched his cheek and he looked down at his fingers. It was water. No, tears.

“... A-Am I crying?” He whispered to himself, his voice cracking.

He passed his hands over his cheeks to remove the tears, but it was no use: they came back no matter how hard he rubbed his eyes. A sob escaped his throat and he felt the air escaping his lungs.

“She tricked you and you fell right into her trap. It never meant anything to her.” His mind echoed.

Rick held his head between his hands, trying to shut his mind at all costs. But he couldn’t. All he could see was Diane kissing that man. All he could hear was her voice repeating over and over again:

“Don’t be stupid.”

So he decided to run away. He desperately opened the door and somehow managed to lock it. Turning around, he walked out of the college in a quick pace, crossed arms hugging each other. His desperate eyes evicted any kind of contact.

Fortunately, there were just a few people left. Rick didn’t need anyone to humiliate him and his appearance now, he already felt like the worst and most ridiculous thing in the world. With his head down, he made his long way back home, tears on the ground wherever he passed.

Geez, he felt his heart breaking in two. Why was he like that? Why so dreamy and weak? He really thought he would mean anything for Diane? Diane falling in love with him... just in his dreams. It was about time for him to grow up.

After what felt like hours of running, he finally arrived at his safe house. Twisting the doorknob with unsteady hands, he made a decision: It is time to stop. He will no longer be her toy.

“You... You have to respect yourself and, and s-stop with what hurts you.” Rick murmured to himself the lines his therapist many years ago told him.

He was standing in the middle of his living room. It was a modest house, and all he could afford was a tiny tv and cheap furnitures. There were a few frames on the walls and some plants in the corners of the rooms, for they relaxed him. The light walls contrasted with the usual dark illumination. And behind his couch was a huge mirror that came along with the house.

The mirror showed him a pathetic figure: It was a man strangely tall with ridiculous messy blue locks; He had swollen eyes, tears still making their way down his deformed red face; His longs arms wrapped his excessively skinny body; Oh, and how he looked utterly terrified. Clearly, it’s a man no one wants around.

Something that’s meant to be alone in this world.

“I... am not like that!” Rick sobbed, closing his eyes tight. Once again, he had his head between his hands in a firm grip.

It felt like dying. No, he wish it was death he was facing. The air escaped his lungs, his throat ached and his heart was beating so loud he can hear it. He wanted all of that to stop, to go back to the time he wasn’t in love with Diane, or at least to the time before all this nightmare started. But it’s impossible, he already tried making a time travel gadget.

“Get over with all of this!” His mind screamed.

Rick groaned and, still holding his hair firmly, ran to his room. For a moment, he froze still at the door. His eyes met a frame with Diane’s picture. It was from the day they went to a carnival, in which she herself took the picture and gave it to him as a gift.

Rick took some steps towards the frame and grabbed it. Diane looked so gorgeous. Her devilish green eyes looked at him as if daring him to look away. Her lips were painted in pink and showed a sided smile. He remembered the perfume she was wearing that day, a sweet one, which made him feel somewhat relaxed by her side.

His trembled hands held that frame as if it could break at any second. Hesitantly, he brought it over his trash can. Rick’s dark eyes locked with Diane’s big ones and she dared him to throw her away.

“Don’t be stupid.” She warned him.

His eyes shut tightly and he breathed heavily. Rick looked one more time to the painful feeling he was holding and sighed sadly. He couldn’t do it. Even so badly hurt and used, Rick couldn’t throw Diane away. His heart shamefully belonged to her and it couldn’t bear treating her as nothing less than the most important thing in this world.

It’s really stupid and naive, he knew. But something needed to be done.

That’s why Rick took everything he had that came from her or that reminded him of her and packed it all together in a huge box. That beautiful frame, some tiny bunny shaped plushies and every single note she once wrote him that he kept, everything now locked away from his heart.

After putting the box deep inside his closet, under some other things, Rick allowed himself to take a deep breath. His body felt tired and all he wanted was to sleep, maybe for a thousand years and never have to look at her again. However, it’s exams week and he can’t just stay home whenever he wants.

This thought reminded him of the exam Diane will take the next day and he felt guilty for not helping her. He quietly took the light blue paper he left inside his pocket and unfold it. His tired eyes read the same words he remembered, but now they sounded so melancholic.

One more tear hit the floor as Rick weakly ripped it in two.

                         ——————————————

Diane put her hands over his chest and firmly pushed him away. While he was still trying to keep his balance, she grabbed her pocket mirror and fixed her lipstick and hair.

“Wow... that was hot.” The brunette smirked down to her, removing her lipstick from his mouth with his thumb.

Diane rolled her eyes.

“No, David. That was boring.” She closed the tiny mirror and put it back in her purse. Her sharp stare back at him. “Is that all you’ve got?”

The man named David laughed under his breath, not believing what he just heard. His left hand found its way to her hair and put a lock behind her ear, grabbing her chin right after. His right arm once again was lifted besides her head, as if to trap her. The harsh look the woman gave him made a sided smile appears on his face.

“You’re a though lady.” He commented.

Diane faked a laugh and slapped his hand away from her face. She removed the hair from behind her ear and slowly approached her body to his, a sweet smile over her lips.

“You’re right, I’m too much for you, little boy.” She seductively trailed her finger over his chest, her mouth almost touching his ear as she whispered. “And I’m not losing my time with you again.”

She patted his right cheek two times as he slowly leaned in for a kiss and calmly made her away back to the insides of the building, her cat walking keeping his confused eyes on her hips. Diane smirked as she went inside, knowing very well that he just couldn’t understand why he wasn’t enough and yet he still longed for her. Tricking and dumping horny guys is such a pleasure to her, she would never stop loving how their confident smile tragically fades as she walks away.

The blonde woman grabbed a new pack of bubble gum and shoved some inside her mouth to get rid of what was left from David’s saliva. Sometimes the privileged view she had from dumping them doesn’t really makes up for the nasty mouth she has to kiss or the abusive hands she has to tolerate over her body. Today was just like that. Yet she couldn’t let David know that he did affect her, even if it wasn’t the way he wanted.

Diane stopped in front of her locker and opened it. Pretending to search for something inside, she took the moment to take a deep breath and relief her anger. David was not planned. That disgusting kiss definitely wasn’t something she wished to happen today. And how she hated when things ran out her control.

It had been some weeks since the first time David flirted with her. Although she never really flirted back, he didn’t stop. Everyday he’d come up with something new to show her how he was “a good catch”. But no matter how long Diane stared at him, she couldn’t even call him cute. He was just a shithead with some muscles, just like most of the guys she knew. Nothing special, nothing new, just the same old crap. That’s why she decided to put an end in all of this and give him that goddamn kiss. A kiss he would probably remember for the rest of his life as the one followed by her eternal indifference.

The beautiful lady rolled her green eyes in disgust at the recent memory. Her glance finally fell over her math book, reminding her of someone else. For the first time in her life, Diane grabbed her exercises book somewhat excited. She threw it and some papers inside her purse and closed her locker with a confident smile. She had some preparations to do.

Diane took a taxi back home and lost count of times the driver made her roll her pretty eyes in boredom. He kept talking about how he was looking for a girl who would understand him while giving her suggestive looks. As if he had any chance with her. The blonde asked him to stop one street before her true destiny to make sure he wouldn’t know where she lived and almost threw the money at his face while leaving the car.

Picking up the pace, Diane cursed under her breath for having to walk on high heels back home. God, she needed someone who owned a car and wasn’t a complete asshole to drive her home once in a while. Maybe everyday. Her mind searched for anyone she knew that would volunteer to drive her around the town, but only came up with stupid guys with whom she had already slept.

“Those are useless, I can’t rely on them even for good sex.” She murmured to herself as she stopped in front of her house, searching for her keys.

Once inside, Diane quickly got out of her high heels and breathed deeply. Damn, her feet hurt really bad that day. Massaging her tired toes, she looked up at the clock, it was already 6:10 pm. She called that driver’s mom a bitch a few more times as she passed a hand through her perfect, golden locks and looked around the room. Now she had to run her preparations for the study session.

Diane took all her clothes off and shoved them somewhere in her wardrobe. Her eyes scanned the furniture for something appropriate for the occasion, something he would like seeing her wearing, but that wouldn’t distract him too much. Just a little. With a malicious smirk, she decided for something simple. He was a simple man, after all.

It was already past seven when Diane really finished everything she wanted. She was wearing white shorts with a thin, glued to her body, blue t-shirt. She wasn’t wearing a bra, just so the true curves of her average sized breasts could be seen. Her hair was in a messy bun and her lips were painted in a light pink. She looked casual, but still desirable. Or at least she hoped.

On the table, she spread books and notes along with colorful pencils and bowls of snacks. She also put two glasses of wine and its bottle on the right corner of the table, she needed them to survive this task. Diane looked at her doing with a proud smile. It seemed like a local of study, but also with some intimacy. She almost couldn’t hide her excitment for what was to come - after all the calculations and studying, of course. Now all she had to do was wait for her colleague.

In an instant, Diane threw her tired self on her couch and closed her eyes, feeling all her tense muscles finally relaxing. It had been a though day. She had to keep up with Sharon talking about her dreamy guy, her teacher complaining about her grades, her mom calling her house to remind the lady to pay the bills and then with David being the complete idiot he is. All she wanted was peace. Complete silence. Maybe someone to tell her how amazing she is for dealing with all of this.

And, out of nowhere, his face popped into her mind. His stupid, gentle smile and messy blue hair were a unique combination in her memories. The way he shyly laughed at her comments and scratched the back of his back somewhat made her want to kiss him hard. As if she wanted to remove all his innocence and kindness from him, as if she wanted him to look and act just like all the other guys she knew: like she was a prize they earned after long minutes of chatting and flirting, not wanting to waste a single second of touching her body. But he never changed, he never treated her like that. To Rick she was like a divine visitor and he gladly satisfied all her wishes. Almost like he saw it as a mission.

He was so pure and naive...

Diane turned to her side and looked at the door. It was weird that Rick didn’t arrive on time, he usually is really punctual. She frowned her thin eyebrows and closed her eyes again. He soon will knock at her door, just like always. Although this time she’d mock him about showing up late.

Without her noticing, a small smile soon appeared over her lips. She was thinking about him again. But this time it wasn’t about his cute compliments or nice behaviour. No, the young woman was remembering all the long nights she had kept him awake, all the marks she had left over his body to satisfy his lusty dream and all the pleasure he made her feel.

Yeah, that’s right, the nerd guy was really good at bed, she couldn’t deny it. And it was also true that she didn’t go out with other guys ever since their thing started. Rick sure as hell made her feel good, but it was also because no other guy seemed to be worthy her time and body. It’s just a coincidence.

Even so, Diane still questioned herself why she had to spend so much time getting dressed and doing makeup for him. Why so much work for Rick Sanchez? He would die to breath the same air as her anyway. So why?

“You’re getting crazy from lack of sleep, Diane.” She murmured to herself, her right hand massaging her temple.

Diane opted to leave all those questions to another time and breathed deeply once again. Now she wanted to focus on happy thoughts only. Since she was getting close to sleep, all her mind could remember were short memories: the mint green bracelet her father gave her, cute bunnies she once petted and the beach.

And before she knew it, Diane fell asleep as her mind drifted off. The last happy thought she had was with Rick, at a carnival.

                                   ...................................

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#rick and morty #rick & morty #rick and morty au #rick & morty au #rick & morty fanfiction #rick and morty fanfiction #rick sanchez #diane sanchez #rick sanchez x diane sanchez #rick x diane #doofus rick #doofus diane #doofus!Rick x doofus!Diane #doofus rick x doofus diane fanfiction #my writing

[thorne93]

Unforeseen Chasm (Part 12)

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Word Count: 1657

Warnings: Language, torture

Song: Fallen Angel - Three Days Grace

Note: This is by far the longest thing I’ve ever written (including my novels). It’s a collaboration with the amazing @mrs-dragneel-stark-solo​​. It started as a funny “What if…?” and it evolved and got huge. This took two years to write. We are both proud and happy and we hope you enjoy it. It follows from Thor 1 to Endgame in the MCU. Some of the timelines may be off in order to fit certain people, and some characters may show up earlier or in different ways than they have in the movie. But for the most part, it follows the MCU. It also has a bit of crossover with some other Marvel characters throughout the story.

Masterlist for Unforeseen Chasm

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Over two months you’d been on Asgard. Shannon hadn’t sent a letter since your last one, but you assumed she was just busy at Tony’s lab. A budding new romance and new job was probably a lot to take on. 

Except, on your end, your new best friend Loki was at his wits end. 

It was only yesterday Odin announced to his closest family and confidants that Thor was still going to be appointed to the throne soon. He was upset and you and he went riding in the forest to ease his mind. From the way he was acting afterward, you thought he had cooled down, but today… you asked where Loki was, and no one had seen him. None of his family, nor the elite warriors. You weren’t worried too much, until nightfall when he hadn’t been seen all.

It was only then that you thought you should seek the help of Heimdall. Spying on him felt wrong, but in this sense you were solely worried about his well being. But as you trekked your way down the rainbow bridge, you saw Thor and Loki fighting -- intensely. 

That’s when you started to jog, your mind reeling. What could he possibly doing? What was Thor doing? When you reached them, you cried out while Loki shoved Thor back with Odin’s staff -- what was he doing with that? Why didn’t Odin have it?

“Loki? What are you doing?” you desperately asked. 

“Taking what is rightfully mine!” he proclaimed, looking frenzied. “I thought I could handle it, Y/N. I can’t. I’m just as suited for the throne if not better. It’s only because I’m a Frost Giant!” he announced before glaring at Thor who stood at the ready with his hammer. 

“Loki, please. We can talk about this,” you tried, inching towards him. 

“There is nothing to talk about, darling,” he informed with a dark smirk before you realized that Loki had replaced himself with an illusion of himself in a split second -- you hadn’t seen the action. You glanced inside the Bifrost and saw Loki insert the staff and unleash the full power.

“What are you doing?!” Thor demanded as he ran forward. “You’ll destroy them!”

“Just doing what you once set out to do! Father will see that I can do the same thing you and he can,” Loki snarled before they fought some more. You begged them to quit, but you couldn’t physically stop them. Even the small bit of magic Loki had taught you wasn’t any use in this situation. 

Eventually, Thor kicked Loki out onto the bridge, effectively knocking his brother down before hitting Mjolnir into the bridge. 

“You’ll never see the human again!” Loki proclaimed to Thor. 

Panic started to dance around your heart. If Thor destroyed that bridge, the Bifrost… Your way back to Earth would be lost. Your way back to your friends, to Diane and Tom, to Lucky… And most importantly -- Shannon. Loki had once said he knew ways of leaving Asgard without the Bifrost… But did you believe him? Right now, as your portal was being destroyed… did you believe this maniacal, wonderful man? 

You weren’t so sure. 

Certainly he wouldn’t destroy your only way back home. No… Loki, who desired a home so desperately wouldn’t rob you of yours, you knew this. 

As you were about to look at him though, to gauge his rage, his heartbreak that drove him to do this, a supersonic boom overtook the three of you, throwing you into the air. 

Time seemed to stop as your body fell in free fall. Until you hit the rainbow bridge hard, your face slamming into the smooth surface of it. You groaned, but you frantically looked for your friends. As you lifted your throbbing head, you saw King Odin, leaning over the side, holding onto Thor’s boot, where Thor held Odin’s staff -- Loki hanging off the end. 

You stood on the edge, your heart in your throat, your stomach felt as if it weren’t there. 

“I could’ve done it, Father. I could’ve done it, for you, for all of us,” Loki tried, declaring his torment, his anguish to be loved -- to be seen as an equal. 

“No, Loki,” Odin responded softly, showing his disappointment.

In that moment, you saw resolve in Loki’s eyes. A sort of solemn, defeated calm fell over him as he let go.

Without thinking, you backed up on the bridge, took off into a short sprint, and swan-dove over the edge of the bridge to meet him, where you heard Thor yell your name. 

What came over you, you had no idea, but a life without Loki in that instant felt like hell. You couldn’t do it. There was no question in your mind that you wanted to be with him. And the idea of him being alone, facing death alone felt... wrong. 

In an instant, you met Loki. Before you could register what was happening, he wrapped his arms around you protectively as you fell toward the descending Bifrost. It’s a wonder you weren’t dead… But, according to your lineage, you were a God just as Loki, so this shouldn’t bother you. 

“What’s going to happen to us?” you asked with concern while the fall seemed to last a good while.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. His perfect brows knitted together as he peered at you. The two of you had never been this close. In fact, you had never touched each other. No handshake, no hug, nothing of the sort. “Why did you jump? You were safe on the bridge.”

“I need you in my life more than you may know. I’ll go wherever you are,” you vowed and his gaze hardened...and softened somehow.

From that, he kept quiet, the two of you just staring at each other, waiting for something to hit you, rip you apart, or elsewise. You were ready for an untimely, reckless death. But a world without Loki didn’t seem possible to you.

Silently, you said your goodbyes to your loved ones. To Diane and Tom for taking you in and giving you a home when you didn’t have one. To Lucky, for being the best dog anyone could have as a pet. To Jane, a great researcher who would do great things. To Darcy, a hilarious girl that would go places. To Tony, for always knowing how to make a joke. To Thor and the entire Odin family for giving you a place to learn about your true heritage… 

And to Shannon, your light in the dark. The fire in your soul. You told her you loved her, hoping it would reach through time and space and reach her heart as you clutched to Loki. 

But then...you hit ground. 

You assumed this was it, you were dead. But Loki and you were still together. His leather still in your fists. 

You let go of him and opened your eyes, your hands landing on cool dirt, the area dark around you.

“Where are we?” you asked, hoping he’d been here before.

“I don’t know,” he admitted, scanning his surroundings. “If I had to guess, I’d say anywhere, this looks closest to Sanctuary..”

“Sanctuary? What’s that?” you asked, the two of you still on the ground. “Well... Can you get us back to Asgard?” 

“I--”

“Who dares trespass Sanctuary?!” a voice hissed as it stepped out from behind a pile of boulders, a small force beside them.

The voice made you retreat in on yourself while Loki positioned himself in front of you slightly.

“Our apologies, we simply… got lost and ended up here,” he tried. “We’ll be going,” he said, about to stand but they aimed some form of a weapon at you. It appeared to be an electrolyzed spear. 

“Halt! No one enters here by accident. How did you get here?” the man with grey-reptile skin asked. You didn’t know him, but you didn’t want to. Your blood felt like ice around him.

“Wait,” a different voice said. This voice was low… resonating… But it wasn’t from anyone standing around you. Finally, the man -- was he a man?--appeared. He stepped out from the same spot the other man did. “Perhaps they could be of use to us. Where are you from?” he asked. 

He was large, and purple. He was almost twice Loki’s size and had an imposing presence about him. 

“Asgard,” Loki stated. 

“Asgard… A formidable kingdom. Who were you there?”

“I was...A king, a prince…” Loki answered, the tiniest touch of sorrow in his voice.

“A prince? A king? Hmm… Tell me, would you like to be a true king? One that doesn’t question his power? I can give you power you’ve never dreamed of,” the man promised, leaning forward slightly.

Loki looked back to you and you flashed him a concerned look with an ever so slight shake of your head.

“We appreciate your offer, but we will just be leaving. No power or staying for us. We’ll be out of your realm in quicker than you can blink,” Loki promised as he turned to help you up.

“If you don’t want to help me, then you’ll just be in the way.” The man turned and started to walk away. “Kill them,” he ordered.

“Wait!” Loki cried out. A mischievous smile danced on his face. “Perhaps I spoke too quickly. I think we can be of use to you. What exactly do you need?”

“Now you’re talking,” the large man said before turning around. “I need willing participants…” he stated, looking at you two with a gleam in his eye.

The gleam made your heart hammer in your chest as you and Loki instinctively moved closer to each other, lacing your fingers with his, before the large man gave a confident half smile at you two.

Wherever you were, wherever you just landed, it would be the end of you. You were trapped, doomed, enslaved…

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tag List: @essie1876​ @magpiegirl80​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @iamwarrenspeace​ @marvel-imagines-yes-please​ @superwholocked527 @missinstantgratification​ @thejemersoninferno​ @rda1989​ @munlis​ @thefridgeismybestie​​ @bubblyanarocks3​​ @igiveupicantthinkofausername​​ @kaliforniacoastalteens​ @feelmyroarrrr​​ @kaelingoodson​ @friendlyneighbourhoodweirdo​​ @damalseer​​ @heyitscam99​​ @yknott81​​ @sorryimacrapwriter​​ @glitterquadricorn​​ @xxqueenofisolationxx @little-dis-kaalista-pythonissama @bittersweetunicorm​​ @alyssaj23​​ @sea040561​​ @princess76179​​ @thisismysecrethappyplace​​ @sarahp879​​ @malfoysqueen14​​ @ellallheart​​ @breezy1415​​ @marvelmayo​​ @random-fluffy-pink-unicorn @cocosierra94 @hardcollectionworldtrash @capsmuscles @marvelloushamilton

Loki: @lostinspace33​​ @ultrarebelheart​​ @lenawiinchester​​ @esoltis280​​ @tngrayson​​ @wangdeasang​​ @harrymewmew @jayfantasyatyourservice​​

UC:

@lokis-high-priestess​

#unforeseen chasm #loki x reader #tony stark #tony stark x ofc #tony stark fic #loki fic #thanos

[google-plexed]

Down Below

Prompt: “It looked like a shell, half buried, but as she dug through the sand around its edges, she found it was something completely different, something she’d never seen before and thought only existed in stories. She had to be imagining- it simply couldn’t be a...”

Prompt: Character is a marine biologist leading a team in exploring the Mariana Trench. They have come across all sorts of fantastical, never-before-seen wildlife, but now their sub is caught by something...

Diane couldn’t remember the last time she had felt so free, like she had nothing to worry about. There were no tests or papers to grade, no grant proposals to write. It was just her, her and the sand sinking around her toes. The sun beating on her back, complemented by the occasional ocean breeze. She could close her eyes and smell the air- it smelled like barbeque and ocean salt. When she opened her eyes, she could spy a glint up ahead, and, even though she was supposed to be “relaxing” and “taking a break,” she couldn’t repress her curiosity.

It looked like a shell, half buried, but as she dug through the sand around its edges, she found it was something completely different, something she’d never seen before and thought only existed in stories. She had to be imagining- it simply couldn’t be a real Atlantis token- there must have been a casino nearby, or an arcade. Her fingers closed around it, and as she pulled it up, she found it was stuck to something below it. She pulled harder this time, and fell back on her butt. She was still holding the coin, and for a second believed that she had detached it from whatever it had been stuck on. But then she looked up, and realized it was still attached to-

“CAPTAIN!”

Diane’s eyes shot open. The soft, warm sand was replaced by a hard floor, and the peaceful silence was squashed by the commotion around her; everyone was moving around. Not that that was unusual, she thought to herself as the last remnants of her dream faded away. They had been cooped up in this submarine for a pretty long time. This time, though, there was a hurried manner to their movements, a tension in the air that threatened to snap like a taut rubber band. “Mick!” she called to a nearby familiar face. “What’s going on? Is there a new creature? You were supposed to wake me!”

“No! Something’s got a hold of the sub!”

“What does that mean?” she shot back, but Mick had already scurried away. Fine, Diane thought as she pushed herself up. I can figure it out for myself. A few seconds later, she was knocking at the captain’s cabin. 

“Captain?”

The captain was fiddling over the controls, eyes scrunched up in concentration. It was nice to see him like this- usually he was overly cocky and very annoying- she had been told she was dealing with one of the best, and instead of a wise, experienced old man with a willowy white beard, she’d gotten him. And he hadn’t shied away from the praise of his peers, nor the awe from her team (she had unfortunately overheard a couple of her researchers talk about what they’d like him to do to them). Diane was more than annoyed that this was who would be guiding her way to what could be a ground-breaking moment for her career and for marine biology in general. She hated the idea that if she succeeded, it would be another notch in his belt, another accolade for his bosses to shower praise over him for and for him to brag about. 

In short, this was a nice change. 

Nevertheless, at the sound of her voice the captain didn’t so much as look at her when he replied to the unspoken question, “Don’t worry Professor, we’ve got this all figured out. LYNDON! Do you have visual?”

“Sir! I’m seeing tentacles!”

“Probably an octopus,” the captain mused. That was another thing- he was so sure of himself, and acted like he had all the answers, even though she was the marine biologist. She hated when he called her “Professor”- it felt like he was mocking her instead of respecting her.

A few weeks ago, Diane would have made the same assumption- not that she would give this man the satisfaction- but since leading this expedition into the Mariana Trench, they had seen all kinds of never-before-documented creatures: a hippocampus, a grindylow, and more. All sorts of things she’d thought were fairytale creatures and some she could never have dreamt up. At this point, it could really be anything.

Ignoring the captain, Diane strode up to Lyndon. “Let me see.” Lyndon stepped aside to allow her access to the periscope. He knew better than to get in her way at this point. 

Peering into the periscope, Diana could see the tentacles, but something was off about them. There was something familiar about these tentacles, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. But if it was familiar, then it must have been something she’d seen before. She scoured her brain for a match- she was a marine biologist, she should have some clue as to what she was dealing with. And if it were an octopus, she should at least know what kind to upstage the captain and put him back in his place.

“There’s something on the suckers.” She’d had to say something- everyone was watching, and something was indeed holding onto the sub. Her pride wasn’t more important than their safety.

“What do you mean?” asked Lyndon.

“I don’t know,” Diane admitted. It was hard for her to admit that- she was used to having all the answers, at least when it came to sea creatures, but this expedition was proving her wrong and wrong again. “They...sort of...look like spikes?”

Lyndon gulped.

“What is it?”

“I just- it’s probably nothing-”

“LYNDON!” They didn’t have time for this- she didn’t know what they were dealing with, which meant that she couldn’t tell whether this thing was harmless or not.

“It’s just...when we tell stories about the kraken, we describe it as a giant octopus with spikes...”

The whole submarine rumbled. 

Diane looked back into the periscope and realized why the tentacles seemed so familiar.

One of them had been attached to the coin from her dream.

#googleplexed #writing #fiction #scifi #original #drabble #writeblr #writblr

[moonstomars]

What you collect from the riveside

Here’s my entry for the colour challenge! I got this colour and panicked because I had never worked with this kind of prompt, but eventually, something came out.

It’s a Colour Blind Soulmate AU (basically, you’re completely colour blind till you meet your soulmate) and, of course, it’s about King and Diane. 

Enjoy!

Diane hums as she walks alongside the river, enjoying the warmth of the midday sun on her exposed skin. Her eyes wander over the greyness of the grass and the dark of the ground, looking for the plant with the six-pointed leaves. She can’t remember exactly who taught her that if she presses its roots she will obtain a sap that can help to keep a wound clean and healthy - maybe it was her mother, maybe that older girl who always took care of her when her parents were out to fight - but she remembers the first time she used it, the sticky liquid smudging her fingers and crawling under the nails. The scratches on her knees had never healed so fast, and that’s exactly what she needs now. To close a wound. Though this time, it’s not hers.

She smiles unconsciously when her mind goes to the little boy she found on the riverside, just a few days ago. Her breath had stopped when she had realised that the dirty mass of cloth was a person, and when she had understood that the dark, irregular spots on his clothes had to be bloodstains she had feared she had found a dead body. But he wasn’t dead, he is not dead, and Diane is determined to make things stay that way. Harlequin is already getting better, and the last time he woke up he even talked with her a little, though he drawled a bit and he didn’t seem to be able to explain to her how he had ended up in the river with a large but luckily not too deep cut on his chest and belly. He wasn’t able to tell her anything about him at all, actually, but maybe he just needs some time to get better - when she had found him, he was really in bad shape. His wound seems to heal well enough, but Diane wants to make sure that it won’t get infected. That’s why she left him asleep in the cave she now calls home and went outside to look for the plant. It’s not the first time she needs it, and she knows that there are some bushes a bit more down by the river. 

It shouldn’t take long to get there by now, she thinks as she picks up the pace, lowering her gaze to study the varied vegetation of the riverside. All the leaves and the flowers are a shade of white or grey, yet she likes to observe them, discerning the different hues and shapes, trying to imagine how they would appear to a person who can see the colours. It’s silly, she knows it, she can’t even imagine a single different colour from the ones she has grown up with, but it’s a good dream. Hopefully, one day, she will see the world how it really is. 

Soon she distinguishes the shape of one of those plants, the form of its leaves making it easy to recognise it even in the middle of the other shrubs that grow on the bank of the river. Her smile widens, though only for a moment, because then a stabbing pain in her eyes makes her squeeze her lids. She rubs a hand over the right one letting out an annoyed snort. This stinging feeling is tormenting her for days, like there is constantly sand in her eyes, and it doesn’t matter how many times she washes them, it always comes back. When it gets better she forces her eyelids open with a grunt, refusing to let that stupid pain slow her down. Surely Harlequin feels worse, and she wants - she really wants - to make him feel better. 

Another two steps and then she can kneel near the bush she was looking for, her hands slipping under the foliage to reach the trunk. Carefully, she pulls it up, helping the roots out of the ground without breaking them - she wants to get as much sap as she can. When she is sure she brought out everything, she lets out a satisfied sigh, curving slightly her lips as she lifts the plant. It’s then that she catches glimpse of something with the corner of her eye. Mindlessly, she simply glances at it, her mind still focused on what she has to do now - washing the roots from the ground so that it won’t contaminate the unguent - then she turns her head completely, blinking. And she freezes. There is a plant on the river’s edge, its flowers soaring towards the sky sustained by thin stems, the tiny petals flat and open around the pistils. They are not … Diane tries to breathe, but the air gets stuck in her throat, and she blinks again, but nothing changes. The petals are not grey, nor any shades of it, they are not black nor white and they are nothing she has ever seen. They have a colour, she realises, but a different colour, something she is not supposed to see until -  

Until she meets them. She remembers what they always told her, back in Megadozer, that only the ones who find their soulmate get to see the other colours. Slowly, maybe starting from a single shade and then all of them, little by little, until the world becomes a combination of all the nuances she could dream of. But then that means that - the only other person she met over the past few months is - 

Harlequin.

The plant still clutched in her hand, her grip tightening around the wood, she gets up and slowly comes closer to the little flowers, eyes wide as she studies the way their shade changes along the form of the petals, turning into grey towards the bottom. She has no idea how this colour is called, she has nothing with which she can compare it, but it’s different - it’s beautiful - and it means that she found her soulmate and that maybe she will not be alone ever again. Her heart pounds against her ribs like the furious beating of a bird’s wings when she reaches for a bunch of flowers, and carefully she picks them, moving delicately her finger and holding her breath - they are so tiny, maybe the size of her little fingernail. She almost fears that their colour will melt away under her touch, but it’s still there in the light grey of her hand. Then, she gives up. In a moment, she has turned away and she is running as fast as she can, holding the flowers against her chest, heading home. She doesn’t care that she should wash those roots, nor that now plots of ground are falling on her dress. Soulmates, they taught her, start to see the colours at the same time and she needs to be sure. 

The way to get there has never felt so long, but finally, she sees the entry of the cave and in a second she bursts in, looking for him. Harlequin is exactly where she left him, in the bed of leaves that she made for him, though now he is awake, sitting on the ground, brows furrowed and a focused look in his eyes. He raises his head when he hears her come and he blinks in surprise. “Ah, Diane! Where -”

“Harlequin,” she kneels in front of him, putting the bush aside as she pushes the flowers towards him, “do you see it?”

The boy’s look of confusion turns into amazement when he finally moves his eyes from her face to the flowers. He stares at them for a long moment, he blinks and rubs his eyes. Then his gaze returns to her, “I … I think I do,” he stammers, swallowing. “Wait, you are seeing it too for - for the first time?” 

The way he looks at her, astonishment and hope glowing in his eyes, makes her beam at him when she answers, her voice trembling for excitement, “Yes!” Then, softly, she whispers, “It’s you,” because she still can’t believe that she found him, that she found her soulmate. A little boy she pulled out of the river. “I’ve found you,” she can’t help but chuckle, and Harlequin finally smiles her back, flush creeping over his cheeks and his eyes shining with something that Diane thinks - hopes - it’s the same happiness that is warming her heart. 

“It’s me,” he answers, his voice full of wonder, like he is trying to realise what this really means for him, for them. Briefly, Diane wonders if he wanted this. To find his soulmate in a young, lonely Giant girl - she somehow doubts he ever imagined her to be like that. Her heart skips a beat as fear grips her throat, fear that he will be disappointed by her, that he will reject her and leave her alone once again - but it’s only a moment, because she can’t misunderstand the joyful curve of his smile, nor the emotion that makes his voice slightly shake when he whispers, “You did find me. Thank you." 

Diane doesn’t know how he will feel about all of this, once he is healed and free to go, but for now, he is happy, and that’s all that matters. Her smile widens, and she has to hold back from grabbing him and hugging him - he is still wounded, she has to remind to herself, and so fragile and tiny in her hands - so she hands him out the flowers instead. “Do you know how this colour is called?” There are some colours she knows the names, she heard them more than once - the sky is blue, they say, and the grass is green and the ground deep brown, but the flowers can have different colours, and she has no idea how to call that one. 

Harlequin gently take a flower in his hands, his skin pleasingly touching hers, and brushes the petals with his fingers. Then he shakes his head. “I think this is an orchid,” he says, looking up at her, “I … someone taught me that.” He stops, furrowing his brows, a blank stare in his eyes. It disappears when he blinks. “But orchids can have different shades,” he continues, lowering his head apologetically, “and I’ve never … I don’t know which one is this. I’m sorry.”

Diane purses her lips and pokes his cheek with a finger, making him flinch and raise his brows as he glances at her with worry. “Don’t be sorry, silly,” she says, then she giggles, “we will find out together.” 

She finds adorable the way his eyes go round and his cheek and neck blushes, then he finally relaxes, making her a large smile. “You are right,” he says, excitement flickering in his eyes, “we will.”

#nnt #nanatsu no taizai #fanfic #diane #king harlequin #kiane #pre-relationship #colour challenge #my writing #marswriting #the seven deadly sins #i have actually so many other ideas for this AU #but for now that's what i got