#my aunt failing to carry a big chair and me having to convince her to let me carry it doing so with ease and her going | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

greensword101 · 3 years

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My secret santa was @freedom-barricades-bighero16! I am so sorry for the late gift, I tried to finish yesterday, but I had a sudden case of vertigo. But I am pleased with the final product and I hope you are as well. Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

“No…” Hiro murmured again, balled up the paper and tossed it over his shoulder. He barely heard the thud of paper hitting paper; no doubt wondering that the wastebasket would need to be emptied again. He combed a hand through his tousled, jet-black hair and slipped another sheet of paper in front of him. The pencil scratched for a few minutes as he worked out what he wanted to draw before discouragement overcame him again and he crumbled the paper and threw it away without a second glance. He dared a glance at the clock and wanted to bang his head against the desk ad nauseum.

Wow. Washed up at fourteen. So sad. He almost heard the rustle of paper from behind before he remembered and scrunched up his eyes to keep the tears from forming. Tadashi wasn’t here to help him now, and he never would ever again. But it helped at times to think of what he would say were they living in a better world. It was effective when thinking of an idea, but every time he tried to imagine Tadashi’s voice now, it would not come to him. He tried to think of what he would say now, what sort of wisdom he would try to impart on Hiro, but he wasn’t sure if Tadashi had ever given him advice on a girl before.

Aunt Cass would be after his hide again if he didn’t put himself into bed, Hiro knew. Bitterness filled his mouth, and it was all he could do to not throw something. Instead, he pushed himself away from his desk and collapsed onto his bed in a dead heap, not bothering to change into pajamas. He just laid there, prone and tired. Seven days until Christmas, he told himself, another year without you, Big Brother.

He wasn’t sure when he fell asleep, but he knew that he hadn’t been underneath his blankets earlier. Now, Mochi was resting, curled up on Hiro’s stomach and a glance at his alarm told him it was just before eight o’clock in the morning. He managed to trudge his way downstairs for breakfast, still groggy with sleep as the hustle and clamor of the café washed over him. Aunt Cass had a plate of eggs and bacon set up for him at a single table with a tall glass of orange juice, which he began to wolf down fervently.

“How’s your little project going?” Aunt Cass asked. His mouth full of food, Hiro took a large swig of juice before he could respond.

“It’s…it’s going bad,” he said bluntly, “I got nothing that might work, and Christmas is in a few days.”

“You could always buy your Secret Santa a gift,” Aunt Cass suggested.

That would work…but I don’t it would be good enough. If it was anyone else he had to get a present for, Hiro would have leapt at the chance to go shopping. But he knew that it had to special, it had to be meaningful since it was coming from him. Tadashi still managed to get him one last Christmas gift even after passing on and it was a meaningful gift that he hoped to cherish for years. For Karmi, it had to be meaningful too.

But what could he get for her that wouldn’t come off as saying Hey, here’s a nice present for you? What’s that? Why does it have your initials engraved into it? It’s because I wanted to show off how much I like you now. Would she like jewelry? He never saw her wearing anything flashy, even during parties. Would she be alright with a stuffed toy? Hiro wasn’t certain if Karmi kept anything plushy around at her age. And what if she didn’t like the gift? Would that mean she would make fun of his efforts?

Suddenly, his appetite left him all at once. He pushed his plate away and looked down into his lap. What was he supposed to come up with in a few days as a gift? Bells jingled as the entrance was opened and a jangle of voices came in with it. He could pick out a few of them, but the noise swallowed up the words too fast for him to follow. Thankfully, Fred was never capable of keeping his voice ‘room appropriate’ and that was the one Hiro was able to focus on.

“Come on, Wasabi! You gotta admit this was my best idea ever!”

“Fred,” Wasabi drawled, “All you did was tape mistletoe to a hat and wear it all day.”

“That didn’t stop you from kissing me!”

Wasabi chuckled deeply, “I guess it didn’t. Hey, little man. Feeling the reason for the season, yet?”

Hiro turned around and had to hold back a snort of laughter. Fred had decided that a fishing hat was most appropriate for his idea. The mistletoe dangled dangerously close to the edge and had a little strip of scotch tape keeping it there. Wasabi decided to wear a dark green, short-sleeved shirt with a Christmas tree embroidered into it instead of his usual sweater.

“Not really,” he admitted and noticed the two of them flushed, “Are you two feeling okay?”

“Yeah,” Wasabi’s voice went up a pitch as he replied, “We’re…we’re good. Really good –”

“Wasabi finally kissed me!” Fred shoved his face close to Hiro’s. He pointed to his hat, “I wish I knew sooner! I’m gonna wear this every year, now!”

“Huh?” It took a moment for Hiro to register what Fred had said, “Oh! Congrats, guys. Maybe you can double date with Honey Lemon and Go Go…”

“Or, we could triple date!” Fred smiled broadly. Hiro looked at him oddly and Fred rolled his eyes, “You know…us, them, you and…”

“It’s not a thing, alright?” Hiro grimaced, “It is certainly not a thing and I don’t think it will be a thing, ever. Forget I asked.” He made to stand up, thinking that Fred would take the hint and drop the matter.

“You’re her Secret Santa, aren’t you?” Hiro stared at him incredulously and Fred just smiled, “Just because I love comic books doesn’t mean I can’t notice these things, little dude.”

Hiro looked around quickly in case he caught sight of someone who shouldn’t have been listening. He looked at Fred, feeling exhausted just looking at his friend now, “You got me. Luckiest guy on Earth. Just a few days till Christmas and I got nothing to show for it.”

Wasabi looked sympathetically at him, “Is there anything we could do to help, Hiro?”

“Not unless you could pull a time machine out of Fred’s hat so I could get back to the start of the month and have more time to get something made for her.”

“I’m serious,” Wasabi grabbed a nearby chair and dragged it over to Hiro’s table. Hiro reluctantly took his place back at his own seat while Fred leaned over Wasabi’s shoulders like a monkey. “So, you still don’t have a gift yet. You can go simple.”

“Simple? For Karmi?” Hiro was incredulous, “Like, what? Show up at her house dressed as…” He did a quick scan around the café before leaning in and whispering, “You know…”

Both men looked at each other and grinned. Hiro gulped nervously; he was used to seeing Fred smile with impish delight, he just didn’t have any idea how scary Wasabi looked with the same kind of intent on his face. Before he could begin to protest, Fred took hold of his arms while Wasabi seized his legs and hoisted the boy into the air. He tried to kick and squirm in their grip, but it was iron clad. They carried him upstairs and into the first floor.

“What are you doing?!” Hiro felt Fred release his grip on his arms and found himself dangling upside down.

“We’re doing this in Tadashi’s stead,” Wasabi was supposed to be the one convincing Fred not to pull crazy stunts, not encouraging them! That was their dynamic. “Just do your thing, little man, and look for a new angle.”

Hiro stopped struggling and allowed himself to dangle, hoping that an idea would come before all the blood went to his head. He trusted that Wasabi wouldn’t let him fall to the hard floor, and he had to trust that he and Fred were on the right track. Baymax couldn’t do something like this for him; lifting a ton in weight didn’t mean that his body was able to do “looking for a new angle” safely without letting Hiro get hurt. It would have gone against his protocol altogether to let someone in his care get hurt.

Protocol…help…Hiro’s eyes lit up with inspiration and he let out a loud whoop of delight that almost had Wasabi dropping Hiro.

“I got it!” He cheered as Wasabi righted him and barreled into the larger man’s chest, hugging him as tightly as he could, “Thanks, Wasabi! I needed that!”

“Hey, what about me!” Fred pouted. Hiro turned to him and threw his arms around Fred’s neck, threatening to choke him. He made a dash for upstairs, “Gotta go, guys! Feel free to bum around!”

The moment he got into his bedroom, Hiro swept away the mess off his desk with one arm and laid down a large sheet of paper, taking careful measurements for the designs and hoping that Karmi would like it…

(0-0)

Karmi felt the beginnings of an agonizing headache coming upon her. It always happened when she was stressed or failed to get enough sleep. This was one of those times and no drink or medicine would prevent it from overcoming her at any rate. The best remedy was to usually fall asleep, but Christmas was almost here, and her gift still wasn’t ready yet! In any case, sleep was for the weak and weary. Karmi wasn’t weak or weary and she had faced more dangers than any sixteen-year-old ought to. It had taken much pleading with her parents and the crime rate in San Fransokyo to go down before they decided to move back. Now that she was home, she wasn’t going to waste a gift like that.

She looked down at her work and frowned. Half-finished patterns, torn pieces of fabric, and loose string caked her worktable. It was always in such an orderly state that Karmi wanted to tear her hair out in frustration. Part of her missed the days where she would recline on the couch and watch Christmas specials as a kid, free of worry or care for serious work while she cherished the sparce days away from school. School was never a happy place for her, truthfully. And it had taken three years of pleading with her parents before they conceded and hired tutors to come to the house. But all she did was exchange bullies for loneliness and Karmi had taken to writing and sewing to dull the ache.

It hadn’t come easy at first; her fingers bled from needlepoints and her hands struggled to create what she would imagine in her mind. The struggle still persisted to this day, but Karmi had learned simple tricks and techniques that made her projects easier. She just prayed that it would help her now as she struggled a few days before her gift needed to be made. Why couldn’t she find an idea that would stick?

Karmi wasn’t always nice to Hiro when they met. In fact, she had been overtly hostile, reeling back from the new threat that had made itself known in SFIT. He was the parasite to her ambitions as he took the honor of youngest student to ever enroll away from her. But, like swimming for a long period in cold water, she had grown used to the boy. In fact, she began to see him as a friend before the crisis with Sycorax forced her to move away. Returning briefly for the summer made her realize how much she missed Hiro. It had been like an early Christmas present when her parents told her that they’d be moving back to the city.

Part of her wished she got a chance to know Hiro more personally. She couldn’t think of anything she knew of the boy regarding personal interests. All she knew was that he was intelligent, cheeky, headstrong, stubborn, liked hanging out with talking robots and that he was the younger brother to the Legend of SFIT. How was she supposed to make a gift based on that alone?

Her head felt like someone had crammed a large bell inside of her head now and was ringing it endlessly. She tried pinching the edge of her palm to delay it, but all she rewarded herself with was more pain. Some part of her wanted to go to find Hiro and ask to see Baymax for help. There must be some protocol in his databanks that could help her deal with her headache…

Her eyes widened with realization and the dull agony in her head was briefly forgotten. A smile crept up on her face as she cleared off her table of waste and debris before laying down a fresh sheet of paper. The measurements had to be precise, she knew it. She wasn’t used to making anything from scratch before, there was usually a reference for her to go by. That thought brought cold prickles to her toes, but she brushed it aside.

As the process continued, her movements became less halted and smoother, like grooving into a fresh block of wood. Her hesitations had lessened, and new thoughts came to mind as she created the patterns for the plushie. And she knew that when Hiro caught sight of her gift to him, it would be a Merry Christmas indeed.

(0-0)

The music was pleasantly mellow and quiet a few days later in the large Exposition Hall of SFIT. Hiro had a fierce battle with his hair earlier that evening, fighting to untangle the gnarls and knots that had been developing overtime unattended. It had taken over an hour before it was decidedly flat and malleable for a comb to attend to. He decided to dress in a red dress shirt with a dark green tie and a pair of black slacks. Fred had suggested he wear a mistletoe on his head, but Hiro had dismissed the idea. He wasn’t going to willingly invite the mockery and teasing of others.

Fred and Wasabi were already there, arms linked together and laughing at something Honey Lemon was saying. She was with Go Go, who had decided to wear a formal suit like Hiro’s, but with a green shirt instead of a red one. Honey Lemon was dressed in a lemon-yellow dress that ended just below her knees. Fred and Wasabi were dressed as alike as a cat was a dog; Wasabi had a black bowtie while Fred had a white tie. Wasabi had a white dress shir Fred wore a black sweater.

Somehow, a pang of jealousy hit Hiro and he tried not to show it. He looked at Baymax warningly in case the robot decided to announce his emotional readings to the rest of world.

“Hiro!” Honey was the first to see him and glomped him, planting a peck on each cheek as they embraced. Once, that would have had his cheeks flaming, but now he just smiled and chuckled. Honey Lemon saw the roll of paper he held under one arm, “Is that your Secret Santa gift, Hiro?”

“Maybe,” Hiro chuckled nervously and tried finding Karmi’s face in the crowd, “I actually need to go find them right now. Catch you later!” And with that, he ran off into the crowd, muttering apologies and pardons to each person he accidentally rammed himself into.

Karmi slowly entered the hall just a moment later, holding a sloppily wrapped bundle in her arms. She was dressed in silvery and gold with long sleeves that ended just below her knees with a blue scarf draped around her shoulder. She had been hoping to see Hiro at the entrance when she came in, but only found his group of friends instead. She looked to Honey Lemon, the one she was most familiar with, “Hey, have you seen Hiro? …not that I’m interested in seeing him or anything, just wanted to know where he was so I could um…not be near him…?” Her smile in the end would have frightened children if they dared to look at her.

Go Go half smiled, “Try the crowd he just bodysurfed into. You might catch him there.”

Karmi looked at the audience of people with trepidation before her eyes hardened with resolve, “Wish me luck, everyone. I’m going fishing!”

“When you come back with Hiro, be sure to bring some sushi!” Fred called out to her as she entered the mob, cradling her present protectively. Wasabi looked at him funnily and Fred shrugged, “What? I’m hungry!”

“How about my lips? You hungry for them?” Wasabi pressed his lips lightly against Fred’s.

Fred’s face burned as he took a hold of the front of Wasabi’s shirt and began to drag his boyfriend away, “Um…excuse me, we need some privacy.” Wasabi’s eyes widened with surprise for a moment before he shrugged and let Fred carry him away without protest.

“Pardon me. Excuse me. Coming through. Really sorry! Nice dress. Love your shoes, wear them more often!” Hiro danced through the crowd, hopping on one foot to the next as he tried to catch a glimpse of Karmi. Hindsight told him that he should have just waited by the entrance or had Baymax scan the room for any sign of her. Stubbornness told him that determination rewarded the daring. His stomach told him that the food at the snack table must be worth skipping out earlier at home.

Meanwhile, Karmi was on the verge of screaming that she had a dangerous bacterium in her hands at the top of her lungs. If it didn’t get her thrown out of the party, quarantined or crushed under a frenzied mob, then it would allow some breathing room for her to move around with ease. She clutched her present tightly, horrified of dropping it to the floor and having some careless foot smash it underneath. After all of those hours of sewing, stitching, and nursing pricks on her finger, Karmi was not going to let it be demolished so easily. Someone bumped into her from behind and Karmi tightened her grip on her gift as she hit the floor.

Someone else tumbled to the floor next to her with a grunt and the crinkling of paper. Karmi got to her feet, reaching down to help the stranger to their feet when she saw that it was Hiro.

“Hiro?”

“Karmi!”

Hiro looked at her outstretched hand for a moment and hastily pulled himself to his feet. They sheepishly tried to avoid looking directly at one another. A moment of courage came to them at the same time and they both noticed how red their faces were. Hiro tried telling himself that it was pretty warm inside. Karmi dismissed what she saw as a trick of the light.

“Nice dress,” Hiro muttered weakly.

“Good color coordination,” Karmi mumbled in reply.

They stared at each other for a few more moments, trying to find the right words to say. They both tried desperately not to let the other see what they were holding in their hands.

“It’s kind of cramped,” Hiro observed, “Snack bar should have some more room.”

“Yeah!” Karmi eagerly leapt at the invitation, “Snacks! I’m hungry!”

They managed their way to the snack bar without difficulty before they both realized that their hands were linked together. Neither of them pushed away from the touch.

Give her the gift, Hiro thought to himself as he eagerly snacked on a plate of pigs in a blanket. This is the best chance you have, just give it to her already.

Shove it into his face and have him open it already! Karmi slowly nibbled on some cheese and crackers, barely tasting them at all. Just do it now.

“Hiro…”

“Karmi…”

They both looked at each other.

“You first,” Hiro smiled nervously.

Karmi flushed and fiddled with the gift in her hands, “I…some party, isn’t it?”

“I haven’t gone to a lot, to be honest,” Hiro rubbed the back of his neck, “Last time I went, the dance got cut off because of High Voltage. I thought Megan was going to get hurt…”

“Megan?” Karmi tried to keep the terror out of her voice.

Hiro looked at her with wide eyes and hastily added, “She’s just a friend! A friend with a really crazy cop for a dad…who wanted to hook up with Aunt Cass.”

Karmi winced, “Are they still seeing each other?”

Hiro’s smile grew mischievous, “They haven’t been on a date since Aunt Cass learned he was being a…”

“Jerk?” Karmi suggested.

“Yeah. A jerk.”

Karmi looked at her present and grew determined, “Hiro, I wanted to…”

“Karmi, I…”

“Merry Christmas,” they both said at once, shoving their gifts forward, eyes wide shut and braced for impact. When they both braved a look, however, they each stared in silence at what was being offered to one another.

“You first,” Hiro held out his gift to her, looking more fourteen than Karmi had ever seen him. She took the roll of paper from him and hastily gave him her poorly wrapped gift in exchange. She undid the wrapping and unrolled it. When she looked inside, Karmi saw a small Chibi design of herself looking back at her on blueprint. Measurements were inscribed as well as features that would be included in it. Her own personal aid in the lab, meant to be programmed with features to help keep her projects safe and monitored.

“It’s not finished yet,” Hiro murmured apologetically, “This is the final draft I made and it’s going to take a few weeks, and I figured…” He chuckled weakly before continuing, “Who else could you trust with your lab than yourself?”

You. She wanted to say it. I would trust you, Hiro.

“I love it already,” Karmi said instead, “Thank you…you should open your gift too. I didn’t think I could make a robot like you, but…this was the next best thing.”

Hiro ripped the present open and felt his mouth widen. He knew it was made with minky. He couldn’t help but think of Mochi as he caressed the fabric in his hands and sorely wanted to press it against his face. Two black button eyes stared back at him and Hiro was certain that it would sound just like Baymax if it could talk.

“Karmi…” He began, but words failed him.

“I like to sew in my freetime too,” Karmi blushed, “I didn’t know if this was your thing or not, but I know how much you love Baymax. Its like having a piece of your brother with you. You could have that in your room and it’d be like…having a piece of me with…”

The rest of her words were cut off as Hiro slammed into her and wound his arms tightly around her chest.

“Thank you, Karmi,” he whispered in his ear, “I love it.”

Karmi reached around with her arms and hugged him back fiercely. They stayed like this for a few minutes before pulling apart. Hiro reached out and grabbed her hand into his own and guided her through the crowd again without another word.

When they reached the entrance again, they saw Honey Lemon and Go Go waiting for them with knowing smiles on their faces. Wasabi was walking back to them, straightening out his mussed shirt and tie, hastily covering his neck with one large hand when he caught sight of the others. Fred came following afterwards with a blissful look on his face that came right off when he noticed Karmi and Hiro and said, “Hey! Where’s my sushi?!”

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ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes · 4 years

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Promises Not Kept Part 23

Summary: Tommy Shelby made a promise to Jonah Ward while in the war. A promise he didn't keep. But it comes to haunt him when he tries to drown out his sorrows with a young woman.

Part 23: Johanna Elizabeth Shelby arrives.

Charlie Shelby did not like his sister. Or at least not like he expected to. The pink, chubby little thing wrapped in a blanket that Tommy introduced him to was not something he was interested in.

She didn’t do anything except sleep and cry. Couldn’t even hold her own head up. She cried for no apparent reason and smelled funny when she needed a nappy change. But the one thing that Johanna Shelby did that annoyed Charlie the most, was steal everyone’s attention. From the day she was born in late April, Charlie felt like he’d suddenly gone invisible. Everyone always paid attention to the baby. Family came to see the baby, not him.

It was Johanna this and Johanna that.

Charlie was livid. He stuck his tongue out at his baby sister and promptly got a scolding from his father. The little boy argued that she wouldn’t even know what he was doing because she was too little and stupid to know anything.

So Tommy sent him to his room for calling his sister stupid.

Leah tried her best to keep Charlie involved but felt stretched thin with a newborn. Whenever she managed to get Johanna to sleep for a bit, she napped as well. That meant there was little time to spend with Charlie.

~~~~~~

One night, Charlie began to cough. Leah came to his room to wish him goodnight. As she kissed his forehead, he coughed pointedly in her direction.

“Oh, poppet, are you okay?” She touched his forehead to feel for a fever.

“M’sick.” Charlie pouted.

“You seemed okay at dinner.” She said softly and felt his cheeks too. He didn’t seem flushed or warm so she wasn't convinced he had a fever. "Are you sure you don't just have a tickle in your throat?"

“No.” He crossed his arms over his chest. “M’sick.” He repeated.

Tommy entered the bedroom and Charlie coughed again. His father frowned. “What’s that coughing about?” He asked.

“He says he’s feeling ill,” Leah said with a worried look. “Perhaps we should call the doctor.”

Tommy caught the glint of triumph in his son’s eyes. Ah, so he was fishing for attention. “Uh-huh. Well, don’t need to call the doctor. We’ve still got some of that cough medicine leftover from when he had a cold this winter. Still, have it in my medicine cabinet, I’ll grab it.”

Charlie’s eyes widened at the mention of the thick, dark-colored, nasty tasting syrup. “No!” He suddenly shouted.

Tommy stopped and raised an eyebrow. “Well, if you’re truly sick, Charles, you’ll have to take it.”

Leah caught onto what her husband was implying. She was a little disheartened. No matter how hard she tried, it was obvious Charlie was feeling left out. “Maybe see how you feel in the morning.” She said softly. “If you’re still feeling ill, we’ll call the doctor.” But she had a feeling that Tommy calling his bluff made the mysterious cough disappear.

The little boy looked positively disgruntled that his scheme had fallen through. “Mumma…”

“Yes, love?” Leah tucked him in and stood up to turn off the nightside lamp.

“Is Johanna gonna live with us forever?” He pulled the covers up to his chin and looked up at her.

She laughed softly. “What do you mean, poppet?”

“Can we send her back?”

Tommy stifled a laugh but Leah didn’t think it was funny at all. “Back? Why would you want to send her away?”

Charlie shrugged and frowned grumpily at the ceiling. “Dunno.”

“I know she may not be much fun now, but soon you two will be able to play together,” Leah said gently, hoping to change his mind. He didn’t seem convinced but nodded begrudgingly. "Alright then, goodnight, love.”

Leah closed the door to Charlie’s room behind them and gave her husband a look. “I don’t think this is funny, Tommy.” She scolded. “He’s feeling neglected.”

Tommy rolled his eyes. “Neglected? He’s got a roof over his head, three meals a day, a stable full of horses ‘n every toy he could possibly want. I wouldn’t consider that neglected.” He began walking back to the bedroom.

“Every child needs attention.” She followed him. “He thinks we’re giving Johanna too much attention.”

“Newborns need attention,” Tommy replied and opened the door for her. “I have four siblings, Leah, the boy needs to learn the world doesn’t revolve around him.”

She sighed. “Just try to make sure he doesn’t feel so left out.” With that, she went to check on their daughter in the adjoining nursery.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tommy listened to his wife but it didn’t seem to do much good. Charlie had it deadset in his mind that Johanna was there to replace him, he was no longer loved, and neither his mum nor his dad would care if he disappeared.

So that’s what he planned on doing. The morning after his failed attempt at crying wolf, Charlie gathered up a satchel of his things and took hold of Cyril’s collar. The bullmastiff seemed happy to trail after him. He marched downstairs to where his father was discussing business with Polly in the big room.

“I’m running away!” He proclaimed.

His father and great aunt looked at him. Polly, who had seen more than her fair share of announced runaways from her time helping raise the Shelby children, looked amused.

“Very sad to hear that, Charlie,” Tommy replied coolly from behind his desk. “Your mother, sister, and I will miss you very much.”

“Well, I’m never coming back.”

“You don’t think mum will cry when she finds out you’ve left?”

Charlie faltered a little. “I-I don’t care!”

“Okay, well I suppose I can’t stop you.” Tommy sighed. “Did you pack food? Don’t want to get hungry on your journey.”

He hadn’t thought to pack food. “No…”

“Well, go ask Abby to make you something to bring along. If you change your mind, your Aunt Pol and I will be here.”

Charlie pulled a face and stomped downstairs to the kitchen with Cyril in tow.

Leah, who was upstairs with Johanna at the time of the declaration, came down with the newborn. She found Polly and Tommy still talking.

“Oh, there she is.” Polly smiled and held out her arms to hold Johanna.

Leah handed her over. “Just up from a nap. Tommy, have you seen Charles anywhere?”

“Yes, he’s run away,” Tommy replied without looking up from his paperwork.

For a second, she thought she misheard him. “Come again?”

“He’s decided to run away from home. I told him how sad we’d all be in his absence but he insisted.”

“Thomas!” Leah gasped. “Run away? What on Earth do you mean? Why are you just sitting here? Go out and find him!” She exclaimed in a panic.

He just chuckled. “Leah, I would bet a lot of money that he is perfectly safe in the stables. He’s not going to go anywhere.”

“Tommy did the same thing when John was born,” Polly told her. “Said he was going to run off because no one loved him anymore. He came back five minutes later so he wouldn’t be late for supper.”

Leah’s forehead creased with worry but she managed to take a breath. “Will you please go out and bring him back in then? I don’t want him to be out there alone.”

Tommy saw she didn’t find the scenario funny, so he sighed and stood up. “Alright. I’ll be right back.”

~~~~~~~~

Charlie was, in fact, sitting on a bale of hay in the stables, Cyril curled up by his feet. His face was buried in his arms and he was crying. It made Tommy feel guilty for being so blase earlier.

“Charlie…” He sighed and sat down beside his son.

“You don’t love me ‘nymore. Only care ‘bout Jo ‘n not me!” He sobbed.

“That’s not true at all.”

“Yes, it is!”

“Sh, sh…” Tommy scooped him up and let him cry onto his shoulder. “Your mother and I have enough love for both of you. “Newborns need a lot of attention, you need to understand. They need us to take care of them. Soon enough Jo will be walking and talking and won’t need us as much. You’ll be her big brother and I know she’ll love you very much.”

Charlie sniffled and clung to Tommy as he used to as a babe. “Promise?”

“Of course. I’m sorry you’ve been feeling left out. I’ll try to spend more time with you.”

“Love you, daddy.” Charlie whimpered. “I don’t wanna run away.”

“I’m very glad to hear that." Tommy stood up and began to carry him back to the house with Cyril trotting alongside him. “Now, let’s go have biscuits with auntie and mum.”

~~~~~~~~

Johanna wasn’t an easy baby but she wasn’t too difficult to handle. It was helpful to know early on that Tommy’s voice could put her to sleep in almost an instant. Something about his calm, deep tone was soothing to her. So, Leah enlisted Tommy whenever she was having a hard time trying to get Johanna to settle down.

On a particular night, Tommy was exhausted after the drive back from London. He didn’t think being an MP would be as tiring as it turned out to be. The second he walked inside he heard Johanna crying upstairs. He was too tired for the whole newborn thing but went up anyway.

Leah was standing between the bedroom and the nursery waiting for Tommy to get home. She was rocking Johanna in her arms and trying to sing to her. But her daughter wasn’t having it and was red-faced from crying. Tommy shrugged off his coat and waistcoat. He could see how exhausted his wife looked. Certainly he had a difficult day but she also had two young children to watch after. “C’mere, I’ll take her.” He offered.

His wife sighed in relief. “Thank you.” She handed Johanna to him and kissed his cheek.

“Go on to bed.” He said softly and brought their daughter into the nursery, shutting the door that separated the two rooms.

Johanna wriggled around in his arms, thrashing her fists about in displeasure.

“Sh, sh, I know.” Tommy planted himself down in the rocking chair by her cot and rested her on his chest. “You can’t use words so you’ve got to cry. I get it.” He spoke softly, trying to pull her attention away from whatever was irritating her. “Sometimes I wish I could just scream. Must feel better than trying to get people to listen to your words.” He rested his head back and closed his weary eyes. “Can’t imagine the things I have to sit and listen to all day in that bloody room.”

Johanna whined but began to settle down. The sound of her father’s voice becoming soothingly familiar along with his heartbeat.

“Grown men who are the most selfish, insincere fucks I’ve ever met. I hope you never have to deal with people like them.” Tommy rubbed her back comfortingly. “Guess all I can do is try to make the world a better place for you and your brother.”

Johanna let out one more whimper before finally settling against his chest. Her teary eyes finally closing and her breathing becoming deeper.

“Will try to give you everything.” He promised and kissed the top of her head. “That’s all I can do anymore.”

Permanent Tag: @papa-geralt-of-cirilla @giftofdreams @biba3434 @kimmietea @karmezii @enrapturedbythemoon @vampgirl1997 @tarafaithe @evelynshelby

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#tommy shelby #tommy shelby x oc #tommy shelbyxoc #tommy shelby imagine #peaky blinders #peaky blinder imagine #peaky fookin blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #fanfiction #ofc #oc #charles shelby #polly gray #season 5 #cillian murphy #cillian murphy character #cillian murphy fanfiction #cillian murphy thomas shelby

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curlystom · 4 years

Text

written — peter parker

a/n: phew! so this is a repost from my old blog which i regretfully deleted (a story that i will go into another time) but i’m back! since all of my college courses are online now, i have been writing like crazy! expect to see some familiar and new stories soon. i have a lot planned. it’s good to be back (:

You admired the faint stars scattered across the night, winter sky as the bus slowed to a stop. The fluffy snow covered everything in its track, making it impossible for you to appreciate the true New York beauty. Your grip on your shoulder strap loosened, grateful that you didn’t have to carry the thousand pound backpack any longer. The tension in your shoulder throbbed as your carried textbooks begged to be put down, massaging the area once you plopped down in an empty row.

The cold air from outside contradicted with the warmth inside the vehicle, making the windows fog. You scooted yourself towards the edge of the bus and tugged on your hoodie sleeve so you could wiped the glass, leaving thin lines of water droplets behind.

The blinking street lamps you passed by barely illuminated the area around it. The light reflected off the pure, white snow so effortlessly, making the dark night seem a bit brighter. It was a sight you would have loved to appreciate, but the radiance was blurred by the fog and your eyes squinted at the difference in brightness.

You twiddled with your fingers, memories of the last few hours replaying like your favorite movie. A smile tugged your lips the more you thought about it.

Open textbooks were sprawled out all across the library table, your laptop resting among them along with a few bags of chips and power drinks. Your cheek rested against your palm, strands of your y/h/c hair falling in front of your face. Attempting to blow them out of your face, you glared when the seemingly easy task was failing.

Your arm fell against the table as you rested your head against your upper arm, wanting to let your eyes flutter close so badly. Studying for over 6 hours had taken its toll on you and it was very evident. The darkening under eyes and pale complexion gave you away.

A cup of coffee was exaggeratedly placed in front of you, forcing your eyes to open. Peter’s hands were on either side of him, resting against the table as he tilted his head to the side to look at you, a small smiling forming at the sight.

“You look like complete shit.” His lips were forced into a hard line, trying to muffle his laughter from other surrounding students.

You groaned, a fake cry leaving as you sank into the uncomfortable chair, the cushion no longer giving you the support you desperately needed.

Your hands covered your tired face, “God, I know. You don’t need to remind me. I’ve been here for over 6 hours.”

“Which is why..,” he scooted the coffee closer to you, “I got you that.”

He pulled the remaining chair from under the table, forcing you to place your feet back on the ground and unmask your face from him. Hesitating for a bit, you couldn’t resist his offer and slowly started to grab the drink, keeping your eyes on him. His eyebrows raised at your reaction as he slowly took a seat, crossing his legs and intertwining his fingers.

Your eyes examined the outside, squinting to make sure there was nothing off about this specific drink. His eyes were locked on you, an eyebrow raised as to why you were acting so strange. Perhaps the coffee would wake you up a bit. Your lips met the plastic cover, a slight burning sensation coming over your tongue as you took a small sip. You were truly too tired to panic.

The bitter taste lingered in your mouth, slowly approving the drink by smacking your lips together and giving a slow nod. He sighed in relief as you went to take another sip, thankful that he had made the right call on what coffee to get you. He turned around the books to see what you had been buried in the past few hours, asking questions about what your upcoming exam was about.

You weren’t listening.

Your eyes examined every part of his face as your lips softly brushed against the coffee lid, taking in every detail one by one.

His freckles replicated the bright stars above you, scattered in the most beautiful way possible. The red tint in his cheeks slowly began to fade into his pale skin, growing more comfortable with the temperature change. A few loose curls fell in front of his face seamlessly, your urge to run your fingers through his locks becoming stronger. His brown orbs exhibited small gold flecks as they scanned the pages, your lips parting at just how mesmerizing they were to look at.

He was breathtaking.

“Y/N?”

Your eyelids flickered as you shook your head, the coffee taking its time to fully sink in your system. Forcing your eyelids to stay open, you took a deep breath in as you fully gave your attention to the boy in front of you. “Hm?”

“Are you okay?” His eyebrows pinched together in concern, “You zoned out.”

“Jus’ exhausted.” You lied, taking another sip of your coffee. He gave you a small, sympathetic smile before forcing his lips into a tight line.

His eyes scanned the many books in front of you, developing a headache just by looking at them. He gripped the wooden arm rests and pushed himself up, closing each book and began to pack them in your bag.

You stood up as well, placing your cup of coffee on the table with your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “W-what are you doing?” You grabbed the books from his grasp, immediately deeping a deep breath when you felt how warm his touch was. A flustered laugh begged to escape but you bit the inside of your mouth from letting that happen.

“I am helping you pack up.” He gently closed your laptop and slipped it in its case, placing it in your backpack and zipping it up nicely. “You need to get some sleep.”

You opened your mouth to protest his actions and to try and convince him that you were fine, but it was no use. Waving his index finger at you, he held the strap of your backpack and encouraged you to take it and go home. A groan left your lips as you rolled your eyes, exaggeratedly grabbing the strap from him and throwing it over your shoulder. Your hand gripped around the coffee while the other waved at Peter, his face displaying a look of “you know i’m right”.

He was always right. It was a love/hate relationship with you. The boy never seemed to answer any question wrong, and his morals and values were ones you’d dream of in a partner. There was truly nothing wrong about the boy, and it was no shocker that you’d fallen head over heels for him.

You had been lucky enough to become his friend over the last 4 years. Having the same communications class definitely sparked a flame between the two of you, instantly becoming partners for every project and studying together. The chemistry you had with each other was undeniable, and it made it even harder not to fall in love with him.

He was everything you aspired to be. His aunt, who is the sweetest lady you’d ever met, received so much affection and love from her nephew, you couldn’t help but smile everytime you saw them together. He tutored other fellow students and volunteered with charities in his free time, truly surprised that he had any.

Peter was a busy guy, and the fact he still made sure to check up on you was the cherry on top.

Heat rushed to the apples of your cheeks at the thought of him, your hands covering them as much as you could so no one could see how flustered you had gotten. You bit your lip to prevent an excited squeal from slipping through, your eyes shutting close before slowly opening, staring out the glass.

The previously wiped area on the window had developed a new layer of fog, covering the entire area again. Water droplets stood still despite the the movement of the bus, your eyes admiring each and every one of them. Downtown New York was barely visible through the fogged glass, but the sight, nevertheless, was still breathtaking.

Colorful lights illuminated the night sky, the light peeking through the fog and displaying on your lap. Your hand peeked through the sleeve of your hoodie as you held out your index finger, meeting it with the freezing glass and traced Peter’s name with a little heart next to it.

A few droplets formed on your side of the glass, sliding down the newly written name. The wet residue resided on your finger before you wiped it off on your jeans, smiling at the letters on the window. The bus had slowed to a stop, and the surroundings indicated that this was your stop. You took one last look at the window before grabbing the strap of your backpack, thanking the bus driver, and stepping off the bus.

Peter sat a few rows behind you, his eyes following you as you departed. A small smile tugged at his lips at how carelessly beautiful you were. A few pieces from you bun were curled, framing your face perfectly. A rosy tint colored your cheeks, either from the frosty weather or being flustered. The way your corners of your eye crinkled when you smiled made his heart pound against his chest, butterflies fluttering in his stomach. You were unlike anyone he had ever seen.

His eyes trailed back to where you were previously sitting and landed on the fogged glass. The letters you had written were slowly disappearing but it was legible enough for him to read. He had watched you trace your finger along the frosted glass, seeing the slight flinch you made when you realized how cold it was, but you had placed it just right where anyone behind couldn’t see it.

The butterflies in his stomach intensified by 100, and his heart seemed to have beat faster when he comprehended what you had wrote. You, a beautiful, intelligent, and compassionate girl, felt nearly the same way he did about you. Time played a big role in this particular moment. He had met you years ago, unsure of his feelings for you and never really tested the waters. He remained close friends with you, bringing you coffee during your late study sessions and advising you to do what was best.

He was scared to break that wall, not wanting to change a relationship he was very appreciative of. The last thing he wanted to do was lose you, but now he was going to fight for you until his last dying breath.

#i have forgotten how much i loved tumblr #and writing #and just everything in general #tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #peter parker #peter parker one shot #peter parker fluff #peter parker x reader #tom holland one shot #peter parker fic

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the-devil-herself · 4 years

Text

Never Enough

CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 DESCRIPTION: Certain mates of Jotuns receive soulmate marks on their bodies. What happens when Loki’s mark is found on a girl with immense power? RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: Also available on AO3! Please give me some feedback if you can, I love the inspiration it gives me. I’m going to post the first 22 chapters of this story over the next few days, and, hopefully, I will find my muse to write more.

2011

"We need to get closer!"

"Are you crazy?" Dr. Selvig screamed at his colleague, Jane Foster. "We could die!"

Jane simply ignored him as she raced the car closer to the storm that seemed about to reach the ground, almost like a tornado. I sat in the back of the car by Darcy, her intern. However, Darcy did not look as nervous as I felt about this. I held on tightly to whatever I could find that was sturdy enough to keep me somewhat stable as the van started to shake violently. We were approaching the storm. Closing my eyes, I prayed that I would get through this incident unscathed or else my parents would kill my Aunt Jane, and even though we were close to possibly dying, I enjoyed visiting her for the summers.

Darcy looked at me with wide eyes. "Dana, hold on!" she screamed.

Suddenly, our van stopped with a big thunk, and it felt as if we had hit another car. Come to find out, what we hit was no car at all, but a god.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"How old are you?" the strange man asked me. It turned out his name was Thor, and he was from a different planet. Thor had just finished explaining his world to my aunt, and she quickly fell asleep in her lawn-chair after such a long day, leaving the god and I to ourselves.

I looked up from Jane's journal where she had just scribbled as much as her fingers could muster to relate all of what Thor had told us. "Thirteen," I replied.

"So young!" Thor exclaimed with a widespread grin on his face. "What reason do you have for being on this scientific journey?"

I laughed at his funny but welcoming demeanor. He made me extremely comfortable around him even though I had just met him a few days earlier. "I actually have no reason to be here," I teased. "Jane is my aunt, and I like to come out here to visit her when I can since she lives so far away."

He nodded in understanding before saying, "Your parents let you come all the way out here just to visit your aunt?"

"They know I like space stuff so they thought it would be good for me to learn from my aunt since she is an expert in space."

"An expert in space?" he laughed.

"Yeah," I responded, giggling at my own stupid explanation of her job. "There's a fancy name for what she does, but I don't remember it."

Thor smiled at me as I went back to studying the journal. The wind was picking up, and both Thor and Jane were covered with blankets. Even though New Mexico is known for its simmering hot weather, the nights can get chilly. "Do you not need a blanket?" Thor asked, concerned.

"No," I said while shaking my head. "I don't get cold that easily. I'm fine right now."

Thor continued looking at me with something different in his eyes. He almost looked sad, but I couldn't understand why. I know he was just banished from his home and his family and friends, but it seemed he was remembering or thinking back on something. I closed the journal, setting it beside me on my lawn-chair, looking pointedly at him to which he smiled at.

"I'm sorry," he finally said, "it's just... you remind me of someone I know." The sad look in his eyes returned.

"Who?"

One side of his mouth lifted into a small smile. "My brother," he answered. "You're both so filled with curiosity and the need to learn. He also did not mind the cold."

I shifted closer and put my small hand on his shoulder like I've seen Dr. Selvig do to Jane when she was upset. Thor turned his head to me and chuckled. "What was he like?" I asked. It was a random question that just popped out of my mouth before I could think. I just felt an urge to know more about this other god.

Thor sighed. "Well he's a prankster for starters," he began while he rolled his eyes, making me giggle, "but a master of magic."

"Magic?" I cried out.

"Yes! Magic! He could shift into any form, move things with his mind, create illusions, and all other kinds of magical things." Thor continued to describe his intelligent, raven-haired brother to me, sharing funny stories of him shape-shifting into weird animals to prank his family. By the end of our talk, I could see mentions of his brother brought a smile to his face. He adored his brother. However, before I fell asleep in my chair, I saw a few tears roll down his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Screams became muffled in my head as I tried to process the ruin and destruction before me. A large metal creature came towards us, blasting fire from where its face was supposed to be. Jane and Selvig were helping survivors onto trucks and cars, Darcy was supporting an injured man to a nearby truck, and Thor's space friends were trying to attack the creature, but they were failing. The creature continued to come closer before Thor stepped into the monster's sight and dropped a heavy shield to the ground, making a resounding bang throughout the town that had suddenly fallen silent.

I could see Thor walking towards it, but I couldn't hear what he was saying. I could only make out the word "brother." Was this his brother? The one I reminded him of? It couldn't be. The way he described their relationship, they seemed to be as thick as thieves.

The world fell deadly silent for a moment before Thor was thrown back a few yards from a hard hit by the giant creature. He fell to the ground, and blood came from everywhere. He was dying.

We all ran to him. Selvig tried to yell at me to stay back, but I didn't listen. I knelt down by the man who had changed Earth as we knew it and brought laughter to our little trailer. Tears were flowing from my eyes, and I could hear Jane sobbing right next to me. Then, I stood up and turned around to face the monster who had killed my friend. I glared straight at him and clutching my fists together, but my tears betrayed my strong attitude.

The metal giant just simply stared back. It did not move for a few minutes, only staring back at me. I didn't back down either but kept looking through the eye holes- almost as if I could see him. The intelligent, raven-haired god. Loki.

Before I knew it, a loud crack of thunder came from behind me. I turned to see Thor up and healthy, in a weird-looking costume that matched his friends, with his hammer in his hand that he talked so much about. Thor flew right at the monster and destroyed it. He then carried Jane to the site where we first met him, while Selvig drove Darcy and me. He said goodbye to them all before kissing Jane. Then, he turned to look at me. "This is not him, something must have happened," he said determinedly, as if he was convincing himself and not me.

After Thor and his friends were brought back up into the sky, I felt a burning sensation on my wrist. I finally rolled up my sleeves to reveal a dark pattern carved into my skin. I pulled up my other sleeve to see if I had been hurt there too, but there was nothing. I wasn't hurt anywhere else. I only had this... mark. A mark that I couldn't figure out for years. Why did it appear? What did it mean? Afraid to worry Jane over me potentially being hurt, I pulled my sleeve back down and kept the mark a secret for years. Until I finally met him.

#loki #Loki Laufeyson #loki marvel #loki fanfic #marvel #soulmates #marvel cinematic universe #imagine #imagine loki #never enough #tom hiddleston #thor #The Avengers #loki x reader #loki fanfiction

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devil-kindred · 4 years

Text

the right moment

Pairing: Samuel Drake/Evie Crane

Rating: M

Warnings: a bit of smut (though i didn’t get too overly detailed)

Summary: When Sam pays a visit to Nathan and his family, he brings along an item he's had for years and asks his little brother for some advice. He wants to propose to his long-time girlfriend, Evie, but doesn't know when the right time to do so is. Nathan's advice? When the time is right, you'll know. Sam's not sure how to take the (rather unhelpful) advice and, when Evie pays a surprise visit, he decides what better time than now? What follows is a succession of failed proposals before he finally discovers that the right moment is sometimes when you least expect it to be. [Or rather; a 5 + 1 fic detailing the five times Samuel Drake tried to propose to Evie and the one time he finally did.]

WC: 11.7k | 1/1 | ao3

Tagging a few people who might be interested in reading: @vvitchofhemwick @tommymillers @chyrstis (if you want to be untagged just dm me!)

It’s a little before noon on a sunny, perfect day when Sam and Nathan Drake steer the boat back to the dock on the Fisher-Drake property. They’d taken the boat at Elena’s urging for an early morning run and had spent most of their time on the water reminiscing about their lives and just how far they’d come over the years.

“I still can hardly believe it.” Sam says, as the Nate docks the boat and the two of them disembark. “You happily married, living your life to the fullest with your wife and daughter… How did I become an uncle before you anyways?”

“It’s usually the other way around isn’t it?” Nate answers with a laugh, turning to gaze back at his home with a fond smile. “Man, it wasn’t easy to get this far… But I think back on it and can’t help but feel that everything that happened to get to this was worth it. Some things could’ve gone better, though. Preferably not thinking you were dead for a while would be one of those things.”

“Yeah, well if we had to do again I’d rather not be stuck in jail— Panamanian jail— for a couple years. If it weren’t for you and our thrilling adventure, I’m not sure I would’ve ever met Evie.”

“Couple things have to go wrong before they can go right.”

“Sure seems like it.” Sam laughs as he follows Nate down the dock and halts, stopping his brother just a few feet shy of solid ground. “Hey, Nathan, speaking of Evie and our adventures— I wondered if I could ask you a question real quick.”

“Sure, what is it?”

“When you uh…” Sam glances around as if checking to see if anyone was in earshot and lowers his voice before he continues. “When you proposed to Elena, how did you know it was the right time?”

“What do you mean?”

“What do you mean, ‘what do I mean’? You wanted it to be a romantic thing, right? Like a… a good memory. Perfect, right? How did you know that it was the time to ask?”

“I just knew. I don’t know how else to explain it, Sam.” He grins at his brother, playfully elbowing him in the ribs. “Finally gonna settle down after all this time? Sure took you long enough.”

“Oh, shut it.” Sam grumbles, elbowing him back. “So you say, you just… knew. That worked all well and good for you, but how will I know when it’s the right moment?”

Nate shakes his head, “I can’t give you the answer, Sam. All I can say is that when the moment’s right, you’ll know.” With that bit of helpful— or unhelpful, if you were to ask Sam— advice Nate departs, patting Sam on the shoulder as he leaves the dock and strides up the beach to the house.

Sam stands on the dock overlooking the ocean for a few moments after Nate retreats, his brother’s words weighing heavily on his mind. “You’ll know.” He muses aloud, walking off the dock and onto the expanse of white sand beach the Fisher-Drake house resides on. “And just how do you know, Nathan?” He sighs and stares out at the ocean once more as if the rolling waves will hold the answer to his woes— until a woman’s voice breaks his train of thought.

“Well, hello handsome.”

“I appreciate the the observation, but I’m afraid you’re wasting your time.” Sam laughs good-naturedly, waving a hand to ward off the compliment as he turns to face the woman who spoke to him. “I must inform you I’m a taken⏤” His mind goes blank as he sights her and walks, at first slowly, then rapidly towards her before he scoops her up in his arms and spins her around.

“Can’t believe I actually managed to surprise you for once.” She says, her arms around his neck and her legs firmly around his waist as he buries his face in the crook of her neck and she strokes his hair. “I missed you.”

“Ah, jesus, Evie.” His voice is muffled, and her laugh is music to his ears. “I thought you were stuck in Glasgow?” He lifts his head to look at her and eyes her smug smile with caution. “Evie.”

“I was stuck in Glasgow but Alessandra pulled some strings and gave me her ticket so I could surprise you. Hell, she surprised me too. She was so excited to finally meet everyone⏤ I still can’t believe she gave up her ticket.”

“The same Alessandra that's madly in love with Victor?”

“That’s the one. She’s still coming⏤ hoping to relax and maybe get an interview with Nate and Elena if they’re so inclined as to indulge her⏤ but she won’t be here until next week.” Evie leans back in his arms slightly and raises an eyebrow. “For shame, Sam, you’re not going to ask me how long I’m here for?”

“Well, now that you’ve said it, how long do I get my beautiful girlfriend all to myself?”

“You do realize you have to share me with your sister-in-law?” She laughs, amused at his slightly wounded expression. “I want her advice on some of the extra photos I got from my last project.”

“Eh, so Elena gets to borrow you for a bit. Still all to myself, more or less.” He shrugs, “So exactly how long are you here for?’

“Same amount of time as you.”

“I get you for the whole month? Really?” He gives another quick spin causing her to burst into laughter again and cling tighter. “For real?”

“I got paid well enough from the last job that I can more than afford to take a vacation. So I’m yours for as long as you’ll have me.” The last part is spoken softly and Evie gives a delighted squeal when Sam smacks her ass, “Samuel!”

“Best plan to stick around for quite a while then.” He says cheekily and kisses her⏤ full of love, passion, and the promise of what’s in store later on. It would be a blissful moment… if it weren’t for Nathan interrupting.

“Hey, keep it PG you two! Child on the beach!” Nathan yells faintly from further down the stretch of sandy terrain, Cassie’s laughter carrying down to them on the wind.

Sam ignores his younger brother’s words for a moment longer, slipping his hand beneath the back of Evie’s tank top and grinning into the kiss at the shiver his actions elicit. He breaks the kiss with another smile, retracting his hand from her shirt, and gently drops Evie back onto the sand.

“Resume our reunion later?”

“Later.” Evie agrees with a smile, taking Sam’s hand as they walk over to greet his family.

The two of them spend most of the day and night with Nathan, Elena, and Cassie. What was initially intended as a brief family gathering, quickly turning into time getting away from them. Evie shares the not so fun elements of trying to fix her canceled flight situation— something she’d never have been able to remedy were it not for Alessandra and Elena’s help. Elena’s involvement earns a shocked response from both her brother-in-law, which she more or less expected, and her daughter which came as quite a surprise.

“I can’t believe you kept Aunt Evie’s visit a secret!”

“You can believe I kept it a secret? You should be more shocked that your dad managed to keep quiet about it. He’s got a big mouth.”

“You knew? Nathan!”

“Hey, hey!” Nate yells, ducking to avoid the throw pillow that flies his way after Sam’s words. “I was sworn to secrecy! My wife is a very convincing woman.” He lobs a pillow back, but misses his mark and hits Elena instead who jokingly declares ‘war’ and a massive pillow fight breaks out. The chaos carries on for some time and is, unfortunately, not limited to their living room and by the time everyone tires themselves out, the house is in complete disarray.

“Oh, we really made a mess. I don’t even know where half of these belong. Is that a couch co—“ She breaks off in another laugh as Sam whacks her backside with a throw pillow, which he then promptly tosses back onto the chair he thinks it belongs to. “Didn’t get me enough times during the pillow war?”

“Mhm, there’s not enough time in the world for it to have been enough.”

“Yeah, well remember that for later because I—“ She smiles and ducks away from his reaching hands, darting out the open doorway as he follows suit. “Need to go get changed before dinner, and you can help tidy up the mess we made while I do.”

“Not even a kiss before you go?”

“One kiss.” She relents, letting him wraps his arms around her and rising onto her tiptoes for a kiss. Sam grins and dips her, giving her second, and then a third, much longer kiss. “I said one! You are insatiable.” She breaks away from his grasp, wagging a finger at him with a laugh. “Seriously, I need to go change. Please help tidy up for me?”

“Whatever you want, doll.”

He smiles fondly as Evie turns and disappears down the hall, the sound of the front door swinging open and shut telling him that she’d finally gone to change and that their current fun was done for the time being. He chuckles to himself as he gathers up the cushions and pillows strewn across the floor and sets about trying to put things back to the way they were.

“Uncle Sam?”

“Hey, Cassie. How’s my favorite niece?”

“I’m your only niece, Uncle Sam.” She rolls her yes, then breaks into a smile when Sam makes a face and points at the large cushion held in his hands. “That goes on the big chair at the dining table. Also, dad says to tell you dinner’s ready.” A pause before she adds, “Aunt Evie must really love you, since she came all this way to see you. I’m glad she makes you happy. Mom and Dad are too.”

Later in the evening, when the remnants of dinner have been cleared away and even later still, after an admittedly decent movie, Sam finally steals Evie away from his family under the guise of finally calling it a night. The two get as far as Elena’s studio before things change course and Sam suggests going for a walk along the beach instead.

“It’s a nice night,” He says, waving a hand at the moon and expanse of stars glowing brightly overhead. “what do you think?”

“I think a moonlit walk sounds very romantic.” She steps close as he drapes an arm across her shoulders and the two of them begin their slow stroll across the beach. “Careful,” she teases, “if your brother sees he’ll know you’re actually a big softie on the inside.”

“Eh, Nathan can think what he wants. So long as you’re happy with me secretly being a big ‘softie’, that’s all that matters.”

“So long as you’re happy, I’m happy. Looks like we have some company.” She adds, stepping out of his embrace to greet Victoria— who’s abandoned sleeping on the guest house deck in favor of coming to see them.

“Evie, love. There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you for a while now.” Sam says, slowing his steps as Evie starts to trail ahead— laughing softly as Victoria bounds around the edge of the water. He sinks to one knee in the sand, one hand reaching for his pocket as he calls her name. “Evie⏤” His words cut off in a loud ‘oof’ as he’s tackled backwards into the sand, forty pounds of fluffy golden retriever parked atop him.

“Victoria!” Evie half-laughs, half-scolds as the dog wags her tail and sticks her nose against Sam’s shirt in hopes of a treat. “Get off of Sam, girl. Come on!” Evie wave a hand and jogs a few steps away, patting her leg as Victoria bounds away from— and off of— Sam. “I bet there’s yummy treats in the house, hm?” She says, crouching down to ruffle Victoria’s fur with a smile. “Cassie knows where they’re at doesn’t she? You better go get her!”

As Victoria runs off in the direction of the house, Sam— still sprawled on his back in the sand— utters a heavy sigh and closes his eyes. He can hear the soft crunch of sand underfoot as Evie walks back to him and he opens an eye to catch sight of the hem of her dress swaying the breeze.

“What were you saying, Sam?”

“Oh nothing important, really.” He waves her away as she offers a hand to help, sitting up and brushing grains of sand from his arms and shirt all while Victoria— who had apparently changed her mind about treats in favor of keeping the two of them company— plops down on the sand and wags her tail. He reaches out and gives the dog a pat on the head before she runs off— finally called back to the house by Nathan, who was waving from the front porch. “Hey, why don’t we go to dinner tomorrow night? Just the two of us?”

Evie studies him with a quizzical expression, one eyebrow raised as she waves a hand towards the beach house. “Don’t you want to spend time with your family? I thought Elena had an evening planned?”

Sam shrugs and stands, patting his pockets for his cigarettes and lighter— before remembering he quit smoking years ago— as he stalls. “I mean, of course I want to spend time with my family. I just thought maybe we could use some alone time. I’ll talk to Elena in the morning.” He gives up the misguided search and wraps an arm around Evie as they begin the trek down the beach to the guest house. “If she has something planned, we’ll do dinner— just us— another time. I’ve got you for a whole month, maybe longer. What’s the rush.”

True to Evie’s question, Sam finds that Elena does, in fact, have an evening planned the next day. As well as the next couple days, and he’d be lying if he were to say he didn’t find it a little discouraging for his plans. A few nights later, however, Sam is finally able to take Evie out on the town for a night. He books a reservation at a nice restaurant he was recommended by Nathan and promises a lovely, much needed— in his mind— night away from family. The settle into a cozy candle-lit booth upon arrival at the restaurant— named Arturo’s— and have a peaceful, romantic evening. A night that should, theoretically, check all the boxes for an absolutely perfect proposal. When the waiter offers a cocktail menu post-meal, the two of the them deliberate for a moment before deciding that a drink or two couldn’t hurt anything.

As it turns out about an hour or two later… drinks were actually a bad idea.

“Wow, what was in that?” Evie giggles, clinging to Sam for support as they both stumble up the stairs of the guest house. “I need to know what brand of tequila that was. I’ve never had a drink that strong before. I didn’t even have that many!”

The both of them manage to stumble inside without doing any damage, and upon making it to the hall, Sam leaves her side briefly— entering the bedroom and earning himself enough time to stash the ring box back in the bedside drawer before turning to find Evie clinging to the doorframe with a stricken expression.

“Evie, doll, what’s the matter?” He tries to keep the panic in his voice low, but between fearing she’d seen the box and the expression on her face the emotion was more than a little difficult to keep under control.

“Room’s spinning.” She murmurs, mercifully still keeping ahold of the door frame as she sways and slowly slides down towards the wooden floor. “Oh, I don’t like this ride.”

Sam crosses the room as quickly as he can without losing his own sense of balance and gently grabs her in a bridal carry, standing with her held tightly in his arms before walking slowly to the opposite side of the room— both for Evie’s benefit and to try and alleviate the onset of his pounding headache. What brand of alcohol indeed. He sets her down on the bed, then grabs her again when she sways violently; catching her before she can hit the floor. “You know what? Good idea, the floor is good for tonight.” He grabs the spare blanket from the end of the bed and lays it out before throwing down two pillows and grabbing the duvet. “We’ll just lay right here,” He lays down next to Evie, taking her hand as she rests it against his chest. “and we’ll be good as new come morning.”

“Mhm.” She murmurs incoherently, snuggling as close to him as she can possibly get without being on top of him. “Sam?”

“Are you going to be sick?” He asks, wearily. “Because I love you with all my heart, I really do, but I don’t think I can—“

“I’m glad you talked to me that day in Madrid.”

“Oh,” Sam murmurs, taken by surprise. “well I’m glad I talked to you that day too, doll. Who knew that asking a very pretty woman to do a little recon for me would lead to ten long years of a relationship.” He raises their entwined hands and presses a soft kiss to her fingers. “I can’t think of a single thing I’d change about our meeting. Well, except the part about being shot at and maybe the bit about your camera getting destroyed… and not being entirely truthful about why I wanted pictures of that one specific portion of the ruin.” He laughs quietly, “I consider myself a very lucky man that you didn’t seem to hold that against me when we met again.”

His remark is met with silence and Sam turns his head to find Evie fast asleep, her face upturned towards his own. The sight brings a smile to his face and he holds her hand a little tighter as his own eyes slowly drift closed— following her into a peaceful slumber.

Much as was the case with the romantic dinner, it’s almost a week before Sam has the opportunity to steal Evie away again. It takes a lot of promising to spend time doing various activities with everyone over the next few days before he can finally convince Nathan to agree to another night without the two of them. In the end, Sam gets his wish of another romantic evening with Evie. He rents a car from town and sends Evie a simple text that tells her to be ready at six and to wear something comfortable. She exits the guest house five minutes prior and is pleased to see the sly smile on Sam’s face fall— replaced instead by an openmouthed stare as she walks towards the car he’s leaning against.

“Well?” She asks, twirling around so the hem of her dress flares around her legs. “Think this is suitable for whatever you have planned for the evening?”

“More than suitable.” He answers, finally finding words as she steps forward and places her hands against his chest. “Where have you been hiding that? I didn’t see it in the closet.”

“I have my hiding places.” Is all she says in answer, resting against him. “I’m a little amused that a short little sundress elicits this reaction from you.”

“It’s more you than the dress, though I’ll admit the length certainly caught my attention.” He lowers his voice as he leans down for a kiss. “Are you even wearing anything under that?”

“Maybe…” She murmurs, reaching up to run her fingers through his hair. “You can always find out later if you’re curious…”

Sam lingers for a moment, giving a gentle squeeze to Evie’s hip before he straightens and steps away, taking her hand and walking her around to the other side of the vehicle. He opens the door for her and drops her hand only when she’s settled into the passenger seat.

“Such a gentleman.”

“I try, doll.” He shuts the door and circles around, getting in the driver’s side and starting the car— reaching over for her hand as he drives up the road and away from the neighborhood. “Any guesses to our evening?”

“I know we’re going somewhere and it’s not to town because you just turned the opposite direction… so no, I don’t really have a guess. I’m sure it’ll be nice, though. All the things you’ve had planned so far have been.”

“I aim to please.” He says with grin, as they coast along the road going out towards the bay and to a higher portion of the island.

Evie fiddles with the stereo, flipping through stations and static until she settles on one that comes in loud and clear. She smiles softly at the song playing from the speakers— a sultry love song and reaches out to take Sam’s free hand in her own. He gives a quick glance and a smile in her direction before returning his full attention to the road, gently squeezing her hand. The two of them sit like that for the rest of the drive, the island scenery flying past until Sam slows the car and pulls into a overlook at the top of the island. He pulls over at a perfect time, the sun just beginning to sink below the horizon as he puts the car in park.

“What do you think?”

From their vantage point high up above the rest of the island, they can see the vast ocean stretch out before them and the light of the sinking sun glimmering against the gently rolling waves.

“It’s beautiful, Sam.” She pulls her hand free from his own with a gentle smile, drawing her knees up onto the passenger seat and turning to face him. “Think you could move your seat back just a bit?”

Sam raises an eyebrow but complies, moving the seat back and laughing when Evie climbs over the gearshift and straddles his lap. “This isn’t exactly what I had in mind when we came up here—“ Evie stills, having already gotten his pants half undone and leans back, ready to climb back into her own seat.. “but I’m not complaining.”

She shakes her head, gripping a fistful of his shirt and pulling him towards her for a kiss that delves into much more and by the time the sun has fully set, neither of them can see through the windows.

The next day finds Sam in what’s become his usual spot in terms of mulling over his plans… and how the perfect moment he’s been searching for has been thwarted at every turn. He reaches into his pocket and holds up the little velvet box, wondering how something so little could be the cause of so much stress in his life after so many years of not being any sort of problem. He turns at the sound of approaching footsteps, tensing up but then relaxing when he sees it’s only Nate.

“Hey, Sam, have you seen⏤” Nate stops short in his approach and does a double-take at the item held in his brother’s hand, then rushes over to him, quickly checking for Cassie— and more importantly, Evie— before he continues. “Holy shit, you bought the ring! When did you finally have the heart to separate yourself from her for more than five minutes? ”

“Actually,” Sam grins good-naturedly at the teasing remark, turning the box in his hands as his brother thumps him on the shoulder. “I’ve had the ring for about five years.”

“What? Come on, there’s no way you’ve had it that long.” At Sam’s nod, Nate gives him a gentle shove⏤ laughing just a little when Sam fumbles to keep ahold of the box and utters a thinly veiled threat about someone going in the ocean if the item he held were to fall in. “Why haven’t you asked her then? If you’ve had the ring for that long you know you’re serious about it.”

“I just... want it to be the right time. To be perfect, y’know?”

“Is that why you asked me for advice when you first got here?” Nate laughs, shaking his head as he looks at his brother. “If you’ve already got the ring, you’ve clearly thought about it and you’ve been with Evie for a long time. Any moment you’d choose to propose would probably be unexpected and damn near perfect at this point.”

“I don’t want it to be near perfect. It needs to be absolutely perfect, Nathan. I want her to remember this as a good thing.”

“Why wouldn’t she? Do you think you’ll get married and then one day she’ll wake up and think she made a mistake? Jesus, Sam. If she hasn’t decided you were a mistake yet, she’s not going to now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, just⏤ Hey, Hey! If I go in the ocean so is the box because I’ll take you with me!”

While the brothers Drake are somewhat playfully tussling on the dock, Evie is having a bit of a tussle of her own, albeit a verbal one.

“Ok, I’m leaving!”

“Stop!” Elena calls, halting Cassie in her trek past the kitchen. “Checklist: phone, charger, keys?”

“Check, check, and... check.”

“And what time do you have to be back tomorrow?”

Evie smiles at Cassie and holds out the carton of cherry tomatoes who smiles and takes one, popping it in her mouth before she answers.

“Dinner time.”

“Which is?” Elena prompts as she leans against the kitchen counter.

“Six-thirty?”

“Six-thirty. Tell May’s parents we say hello.” She gives Cassie a hug and returns to chopping up vegetables.

“Bye Mom, bye Aunt Evie!” Cassie yells over her shoulder as she heads out the door.

“Be sure to say goodbye to your dad and Uncle Sam!” Elena shakes her head with a smile when she gets a muffled ‘ok’ as a reply. “Can you hand me the tomatoes?”

“Sure. Hey, when did she start calling me ‘Aunt’ Evie?” She questions as she hands over the container.

“About... four months ago? Don’t be so surprised, Evie. You’re a close friend, you’re with Sam, we see you often. You’re basically family in all but name now. Speaking of—“ Elena halts, looking down at the half-empty container with a laugh. “Evie, you ate half of the tomatoes!”

Evie grins in response and reaches into the grocery sack on the counter beside her and pulls out another full container of cherry tomatoes. She pops the lid and swaps the half-empty container for the full one, swiping another tomato out of the container she took from Elena. “What? They’re good!” She says, as Elena laughs again and shakes her head.

“Back to what I was saying. Speaking of Sam—“

“Oh no.”

“No, no, it’s just a question. How are things?”

“Things are good.” Evie answers, leaning back against the adjacent counter as she speaks. “He seemed genuinely surprised when I showed up here.”

“Which means Nate didn’t spill the secret.” At Evie’s questioning gaze, Elena adds, “He saw the sticky notes in my office about your arrival time and making sure the guest house was stocked with enough stuff for two people.”

“Ah, gotcha.” She sighs happily and smiles. “Like I said, things have been good. The surprise went without any issue and he’s been so romantic this past week!”

“Oh? Come on, give me some details!”

“Well, the first night I was here we went for a walk on the beach after dinner, and then a few nights later we went to this really nice little restaurant in town— They had the best food but...”

“Oooh Arturo’s?”

“Yeah!”

“Oh they have the best food but the drinks are really strong, right?”

“So strong!” Evie laughs, “I felt so bad for Sam, I can’t even remember what I ordered but it tasted great— only problem is the room was spinning by the time we got back to the guest house. Would you believe me if I said we ended up sleeping on the floor?”

“Oh yeah,” Elena says as she laughs at the thought. “You’re not alone in that regard. Nate and I have had a couple nights like those too.”

“Oh, and then the other night he rented a car and we went for a drive. Watched the sunset and then stayed out to look at the stars.” She sighs, lost in the thought, but quickly realizes that Elena hasn’t said anything. She glances her way, then shakes her head in warning. “Elena.”

“Evie.” She replies, with a grin and a raised eyebrow. “He took you to one of the overlooks, didn’t he?”

“Well…He did, but—“

“Let me stop you. You’re going to say ‘nothing’ happened and, as your friend, I’m going to give you a word of warning that ‘nothing’ is exactly how Cassie came into the world.”

“Elena!”

Evie jumps with a start, nearly sending the tomatoes flying when she hits the container with her elbow at Nathan’s protest. She busies herself with moving it out of range as Nathan and Sam enter the open kitchen.

“It’s the truth, Nate. You were there too.”

“Still.” He says, giving Elena his best puppy-dog stare in a silent plea to not share anymore about the subject. “You don’t have to share all the details.”

“Oh believe me, that’s not anywhere near detailed. I could tell Evie all about it, but I think she’d appreciate being spared the mental image and your brother could probably do without hearing about it as well.”

Sam chuckles as Nathan and Elena playfully bicker, walking over to lean on the opposite side of the counter, and fixes Evie with his most charming smile. “Hi, there.”

“Hi.” Evie answers, breaking into a smile when he waggles an eyebrow. Only to giggle a moment later when Nathan, finished pleading with his wife, thumps his brother on the shoulder.

“Not where we eat, Sam.”

“Nathan!”

“Don’t ‘Nathan’ me. I’ve heard about way too many of your escapades over the years to trust you. I know better.”

“The Fisher-Drake kitchen is a neutral zone. Got it.” Evie says, with a barely smothered laugh as she helps Elena gather up plates and utensils so the table can be set. “We’ll just have to count that one as a loss, Sam.”

“Not you too.”

After lunch is finished and the quartet has dispersed through the house, Sam sets out to find Evie and give some alone time— and perhaps another attempt at popping the question — another shot… if the moment happened to be right, that is. He peeks into the kitchen and upon finding Nathan taking care of the dishes, turns his search elsewhere. The hall turns up empty and he’s not about to go searching through the bedrooms, so he turns his efforts to checking the living room and— thankfully— ends up finding just the person he’s looking for. He lingers for a moment in the doorway, then stealthily makes his way over to the couch while Evie has her attention focused elsewhere and gently tackles her onto the cushions.

“What’s gotten into you?” She asks, giggling as he peppers kisses all over her face and wriggling a bit beneath him when his free hand ghosts along her side.

“Oh, just thrilled that we’re finally alone.”

“Uh, Sam⏤”

“Not alone, actually.”

Sam stills, then turns to face the couch opposite the one he and Evie are seated on, finding his sister-in-law watching them with an amused smile. He laughs it off and gently tugs Evie’s shirt back down from where it had ridden up. To her credit, Evie only looks mildly embarrassed and even laughs when Sam gives a joking “Right, what were we talking about?” as he moves to the other side of the couch.

“Elena and I were discussing gear. I was just telling her about the camera you bought me after I broke my old one in Rio.”

“Ah, right the uh… fancy one with all the lenses.” When Elena raises an eyebrow, Sam admits, “Honestly, I didn’t know a lot about cameras at the time. I just went into the first store I could find that sold cameras, told the person in that department that my girlfriend had just broken her very expensive camera that was extremely important for work, money was not an issue, and just to bring me the nicest camera they had for professional photography.”

“Well, you must’ve done a good job in getting your point across. From what Evie’s told me, that’s her favorite one to use both for work and personal shoots.”

“It is. You did a great job, Sam. Not to mention it was incredibly sweet of you when it was my own fault that it ended up broken in the first place.” Evie snuggles up to Sam on the couch, resting her head against his chest as he wraps an arm around her and smiles down at her.

“Sure must’ve done something right if you’re still with me after all this time.” Sam replies as their eyes meet. The both of them must be starring a bit too intensely and just a tad too long as Elena interrupts them with a pointed cough and they both guiltily turn their attention her way.

“Would you two like some alone time?”

“No,” Sam sighs in defeat but makes sure to keep his tone at least somewhat playful. “I suppose I can let you can have her for the afternoon. Nathan had some things he wanted to show me anyways.”

“Are you sure? Because I can vacate so long as the two of you promise to keep your clothes on while you’re on my couch.”

“… I’m not sure we can keep that promise. Right, Evie?”

“Sam!”

His laughter echoes through the room as he gives Evie a quick kiss and a wave before he exits the living room, leaving the duo with the promise that he would get his incredibly beautiful— a remark that makes Evie cover her face and sigh at his dramatics— girlfriend all to himself the following morning.

“So, what would you like to do today, love?” Sam asks over breakfast, watching as Evie blinks at him over her cup of coffee. “I’ve got you to myself all morning, so I’m completely at your mercy.”

“Completely at my mercy, hm?” She smiles before she takes another sip, humming as she runs through the options on her mind. “Why don’t we explore the town? We didn’t get to see too much of it the last time we were there, given that we were both too drunk to be concerned with anything aside getting back home.”

“If you want to explore the town, we’ll explore the town.”

“Perfect. Do you think it’d be a long walk?”

“Shouldn’t be too far, maybe fifteen minutes or so? Give or take.” He returns Evie’s smile with one of his own. “Just let me know when you’re ready to go and we’ll head out.”

Scarcely twenty minutes later, Evie and Sam head up the hill and through the neighborhood to town. They pass a handful of shops, restaurants, and even a few bars—not yet open, of course— as they wander through the streets. They walk a couple of blocks, only stopping every now and again when something catches their eye, before their path takes them to a bridge spanning across a bustling street below. Evie walks to the side of the bridge and peers down in curiosity, her delighted gasp catching Sam’s full attention.

“Oh, look a market!” She grabs Sam’s hand and tugs him along, eager footsteps carrying the both of them down the closest flight of stairs towards the market below. “Come on, I want to look at everything!”

“Only if you promise to slow down so we don’t both fall down the stairs.” He says with a laugh, adding “I know I can catch you, but I don’t think you can catch me, doll.”

Evie shushes him but heeds his warning, slowing her footsteps to a normal pace as they continue down another set of stairs. When they hit street level she drops his hand and dashes away, her delighted cry of ‘oh, look at all the flowers!’ Sam’s only indication of where she’s disappeared to as she gets lost in the crowd. He gets a glimpse every few moments as she weaves her way between all the people gathered in the market and does his best to keep up⏤ in the end settling for just making his way towards the flower stalls. He’ll find her sooner or later. He makes his way through the crowd and finally catches up to her at a stall packed full of fragrant flowers, all in various shades of blue and purple.

He pulls out his phone and snaps a photo as she leans towards a cluster of flowers labeled ‘hyacinth’⏤ capturing her serene expression and the beauty of the sunlight glinting against her hair. She turns towards him at the sound and shakes her head, waiting patiently as he walks over to her. He drapes an arm across her shoulders and smiles down at her before waving a hand at the array of flowers.

“If I would’ve known you loved flowers this much, I would’ve made sure you had them in the apartment back home at all times.” When she raises an eyebrow, Sam amends, “... not that we’d usually be home to take care of them. Right, maybe fake flowers then. They can’t die, so you can have them forever.”

“You’re too much sometimes.”

“That’s fair.” he muses, kissing the top of her head. “Well, if you can’t have them back home... why not pick out some here? We can keep them in the guest house and either give them to Elena to keep after we leave or we can just toss them after our stay is over.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, there’s a bunch of empty vases under the sink⏤ plenty of options for something to keep them in. Pick out whatever kind you want, or kinds, they’re for you after all. Make yourself a bouquet, doll! I’ll buy you whatever your heart desires.”

“Oh? What if I desire something that can’t be bought?”

“Then I’ll have to find a way to work some magic. Unless you’ve got a different thing in mind. In which case, some arrangements can be made.” He leans down to whisper in her ear. “All you have to say is when.”

Evie coughs discreetly as the flower vendor eyes them with scrutiny and Sam straightens with a smile. She run her fingers over one of the hyacinth stems and hums as she weighs her options. “I like both colors. Can we make a bouquet with both the blue and purple?”

“Whatever you want.” He answers, leaving her briefly to talk to the vendor who comes back and gathers the flowers from the buckets they were arranged in. Once the flowers have been bundled and wrapped in paper he hands over a handful of bills— more than necessary but tells the vendor to keep the change. “You helped me make my girl very happy. Have a good day!” He yells, with a chuckle and a wave as Evie tugs him along to their next market destination.

He nearly thuds into the neighboring market stand of the one she stops at, when they finally come to a halt, her vibrant green eyes alight in awe as she studies the various intricate jewelry pieces on display. Sam can’t help but shake his head at her enthusiasm and the way she’s looking over the array of bracelets and necklaces. “You know,” he says as he leans close, “that one with the pendant matches your eyes quite well and it’d sit just above⏤”

“I promised Alessandra I’d find her something nice as a thank you for helping me get a flight to see you.” She interrupts, giving him a warning look before he can finish his sentence. “So if you want to help me find one that might suit her tastes?”

“I can certainly try but you know her better than I do. Maybe that red one with all the stones? She seems to like that color. Or what about⏤” He crashes into Evie when a passerby collides with him and two of them nearly upend the stall. He reaches out to steady both himself and Evie as he studies the crowd. “Watch where you’re going, yeah?” He calls with more than a little annoyance in his tone as the individual walks away and pays the two of them no mind.

“I’m so sorry,” Evie apologizes to the stall owner, who waves a hand nonchalantly and merely says it happens all the time. “By chance, would I be able to purchase this?”

“Could I purchase this as well?”

“Sam,” Evie glances his way after paying the stall owner and shakes her head. “You don’t have to keep buying me things.”

“Let me spoil you, doll. You came all this way to see me, it’s the least I can⏤” He reaches into his pocket and freezes, realization dawning on his face. “Son of bitch! You!” He yells as he quickly scans the crowd, then finds the person he’s looking for about five stalls down and runs towards them.

“Sam⏤”

“Be right back, doll! Just need to have a nice chat so I can get my wallet back!”

He chases the individual through the market, leaping over chairs and vaulting over low tables in his pursuit. The chase takes him through another section of the market, down two alleyways, and through several bushes before he catches up to them in picturesque area with a large fountain and a fantastic view of the horizon. Sam stops to catch his breath, holding a hand out towards the thief who eyes him warily. “Look, I get it. Greatness from small beginnings and all that, but I really need you to give me back my wallet. Just hand it over and you can walk away.”

The thief looks him over, then bolts. Sam swears and gives chase, tackling the culprit into the grass and yanking his wallet from their grip. Target acquired, he moves to climb off of them but isn’t quick enough and promptly gets an elbow to the face. Sam topples backwards as the thief gets to their feet and runs away, disappearing back into the crowd without a backward glance. Hurried footsteps ring out on the stone path leading to the fountain and Sam winces, raising a hand to his face and the sore spot just beneath his right eye. He can already tell that he’s going to have one hell of bruise come morning.

“There you are!” Evie runs over, dropping to her knees beside him in the grass as he props himself up on his elbows and she looks him over in worry. “Oh, you’re hurt! Tell me you didn’t try to fight them?”

“I didn’t. All I did was politely ask for my wallet.” He jerks when she gently touches the blooming bruise below his eye. “Had to tackle them to get it back and apparently I didn’t let them go fast enough.”

“They punched you?”

“More like elbowed me in the face.”

“Oh, Sam.”

“Wish I could say you should see the other guy, but I’ve been on my best behavior so it would be a lie.” He chuckles as Evie’s expression grows even more concerned and shakes his head, “Swearing loudly in the middle of the market aside, of course. Hey, since I’ve got you down on the ground with me in the middle of this very picturesque park and just chased down a thief, there’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

Sam reaches into his pocket of his jeans, intent on revealing the velvet box that’s been carried with him almost every day since she arrived… but only finds his wallet. He laughs nervously, the first time Evie’s heard him do so in almost nine years, and checks the other followed by his back pockets. Empty-handed, and thus ringless, Sam panics. “Evie, doll, have you uh… seen my lighter? Or do you perhaps have it on you?”

“Sam,” Evie answers with a frown and confusion mixed with suspicion warring in her gaze. “You quit smoking four years ago.”

“Ah, so I did.” Sam takes a breath and sits up. “Hey, Evie? Forgive me, I love you, and I promise I’ll be right back.” He bolts before she can stop him, sprinting in the direction he saw the thief go in though he knows it’s a long shot at best. He dashes through the crowd on the far side of the park and scans the area for any side paths or inconspicuous exits, relying on his years of treasure hunting to try and think like a thief. It takes one to know one after all.

He spots a side street to the left and dashes down it, emerging in another bustling park full of people. Unfortunately, the culprit is nowhere to be found. Sam spits out a string of lengthy curses that would make even the most vulgar of people color a few shades and offers an apologetic smile at a woman who passes by— glaring all the while — with two children in tow.

“Really fucked up this time, didn’t I?” He muses, intent on finding his way back to Evie when his phone rings. He answers without checking the screen, leading in with a sheepish laugh. “Hey, doll, I swear I can explain⏤”

“Explain what?”

“…Nathan?”

“Didn’t you check before you answered the phone? Yes, it’s Nathan. So what were you needing to explain to Evie?”

“Nothing.” Sam says quickly, jogging back to the side street. “Did you need us to pick up something while we were out or…?”

“No, I’m pretty sure Evie picked up anything we could’ve needed when she grabbed groceries the other day. I just called to let you know you might be missing something important.” Nate pauses, then laughs at Sam’s bewildered silence. “Maybe a little box with a ring in it?”

“You’re joking. You better be joking, Nathan.”

“Nope, I’ve got it right here in my hand. You know, you’re lucky I found it before Elena or Cassie did.”

“Where was it? Are you⏤ Seriously? Out of all the fucking places I could’ve left it⏤ No, no, it’s fine. Just hang onto it until we come back. I bought Evie flowers so I’ll hide it again when I put those away.” He emerges back in the original area he’d left Evie in and finds her perched on the edge of the fountain, staring up at the statue of two lovers in the center. “Thanks again, Nathan. I gotta go, I’m back with Evie. We’ll see you later.”

She turns her head at his approach and offers a soft smile. “Find what you were looking for?”

“No,” he answers sheepishly, sitting down beside her on the edge of the fountain and gently bumping her arm as he reaches out and rests one of his hands over her own. “Turns out I left it at Nate and Elena’s. I’m sorry for running off on you.”

“It’s alright. You wouldn’t have dashed off like that if it weren’t important, though I do wish you would’ve been honest about it.” Sam hangs his head in shame, gaze downcast in response to her words. “I won’t ask because I’m guessing it’s meant to be a surprise but just say you lost something next time, okay?”

“It really is meant to be a surprise for you and it was… rather expensive. So I just said whatever came to mind. Didn’t want to ruin it. You… ready to head back for the day?”

“Yeah, I’ve got my flowers and the jewelry I bought. Plus the one you wanted to buy me. The vendor said it was a two for one deal, but I think they felt bad about what happened.”

“Sorry.”

“For getting your wallet stolen?”

“Evie.”

“It’s fine, Sam. Really. I promise. Let’s just go home, ok?”

Sam gives her a look that says he doesn’t quite agree or believe her but nods and drapes an arm around her shoulders as they walk back to the car. The drive home is mostly quiet, interrupted only by Evie cheerfully singing along to songs on the radio in an attempt to get Sam to cheer up. Her efforts work for the most part and she’s able to a least get a chuckle out of him when she bumps up the volume and dramatically sings along to a cheesy love song. He seems to be in better spirits by the time they return to the Fisher-Drake residence and is all smiles as Cassie greets them, even encouraging Evie to go with his niece as she eagerly asks about teaching her to surf.

“Well… it does sound fun and if your uncle is okay with being without me for a bit?”

“Go have fun, doll.”

Evie glances back at Sam one more time before following after Cassie, who’s eagerly sprinting towards the main house to fetch her suit and board. As Cassie disappears into the house, Evie veers off to the guest house and goes inside to change. Sam reluctantly takes advantage of the time alone to take a solo stroll along the far side beach in attempt to rid himself of his somber mood. Another thwarted attempt isn’t the end of it all, and it certainly doesn’t mean he can’t try to propose— again — another day at a hopefully more opportune time. It’s not the end all be all, really. Yet… Sam can’t help but feel discouraged when faced with the fact that each time he’s tried to ask Evie to marry him at what he thought was the perfect time, it’s been ruined.

He comes to halt a good distance down from both the guest and main house, staring out at the ocean as his thoughts mirror the turmoil of the waves. Is he really just that bad at timing? Or is it a sign that perhaps Evie deserves better than anything he can offer her? The thought only sours his mood further and he scowls at the rolling waves, not hearing the footsteps slowly approaching where he stands until it’s too late.

“Been together a long time, haven’t ya.” Sully’s voice shatters Sam’s train of thought and he chuckles just a little when he turns to face him in surprise.

“Ten years.” Sam answers, shaking his head as he looks back at the horizon. “I wasn’t sure you were actually going to join us, old man.”

Sully sighs and takes another sip of his beer as he overlooks the ocean⏤ choosing to ignore Sam’s jokingly intended remark. Nate had warned him that Sam had seemed off upon his return with Evie and asked Sully to offer what advice he could, though Sully himself wasn’t quite certain he was the right person for this particular job. “She’s a rare woman.” He begins, pausing for a moment as he tries to find a way to best broach the subject with Sam. “Surprised she’s stayed with you all these years. You’ve never seemed the type to be a one-woman kind of man.”

“That’s a bit of a low blow, Victor.”

“I’m just speaking the truth here.” Sully protests, already off to a bad start. A stretch of uncomfortable silence falls, broken only by the sound of the crashing waves and Evie’s laughter from further down the beach as Cassie tries to teach her to surf to little avail. “You ever gonna tie the knot?”

“I’m working on it.”

“She might not wait around forever.” Sully’s way of saying ‘keep trying, kid’ that thankfully seems to get him somewhere.

“I said I’m working on it. I’ve got the ring. Had it for five years now.”

“Sam, if you’ve had the ring for that long why haven’t you—“

“Oh, not you too. I’ve already had this lecture once this week.” Sam holds a hand up as if to ward off Sully’s next words and finds the weight of the stare focused on him to be even worse than whatever he’d been about to say. “Fine. What is it this time, Victor?”

“Just... maybe you’re getting cold feet about it.”

“Are you kidding me?” Sam laughs and waves a hand in Evie’s and Cassie’s direction. “I’ve been with Evie for ten years. Ten. What’s there to be apprehensive about?”

“Well, from what Nate said and what I’ve seen you’ve never been one to be tied down. You’re the poster child for commitment issues, for christsakes.”

“Oh you’re one to talk. What about Alessandra, huh?”

“I’m an old man, Sam. She’s a lot younger than I am and that’s a whole different ball game.”

“Oh really? How is dancing around committing to a relationship for three years any different than you trying to tell me that I’m having second thoughts about my girlfriend who I’ve been with for ten years?”

“Sam⏤”

“You know what, Victor? Maybe I haven’t asked her yet, not because I’m doubting that it’s what I want but because I want it to be perfect for her. Because I think she deserves better than some idiot who can’t get the question right on the fifth try and maybe, because every single attempt I’ve made at trying to make this the best I can has been ruined by something!”

A blanket of silence falls, interrupted only by the sound of the rolling waves, as the two of them stand awkwardly before each other. Sam runs a hand through his hair and looks skywards, slightly ashamed at his outburst… and the fact that Evie⏤ not to mention the rest of his family⏤ had likely heard him. It was certainly looking as if the evening could and would be far worse than the day had been. Sully taps a finger against his beer bottle, then sighs.

“Listen, Sam, I shouldn’t have pushed you on the whole thing with Evie. But that bit about Alessandra and I⏤ that was uncalled for.”

“Truce?”

“We’ll call a damn truce.” Sully answers gruffly, laughing a bit despite himself when Sam thumps him on the back. “One last thing though…”

“Victor⏤”

“Now, hear me out kid. You’re so concerned about it being absolutely goddamn perfect… maybe that’s your problem. You focus too much on the details and when things start going wrong, you get the idea in your head that it’s not good enough for her. You love her, don’t you? Want to spend the rest of your life with her, settle down, have a family of your own? Then that’s all that matters.” Sully pats him on the shoulder and adds, “That girl loves you more than anything, Sam. It’ll be perfect for her no matter how you go about it.” as he walks back to the main house to say goodnight to Nate and Elena before he heads back to town and his hotel.

“Thanks, Victor.” Sam mutters, heaving a sigh before starting down the beach⏤ intent on finding Evie and getting her away from his niece so everyone, Cassie included, could finally call it a night. The expanse of beach is empty, even the dock void of it’s usual four legged occupant and it’s at that moment that Sam realizes just how late into the evening it’s become. “Well, guess everyone’s headed in for the night.”

He walks down the beach a ways, then crosses to the guest house and waves to Nathan who yells “goodnight!” as he lets Victoria, who’d been waiting patiently on the front deck, back in for the evening. Sam enters the guesthouse with a tired sigh and is disappointed when he finds both the kitchen and living area empty. His shoulders slump a little at the idea that she may have already gone to bed without him, but he perks up at the sound of movement from the bedroom.

Sam quickly makes his way through the guest house and dramatically leans around the bedroom doorframe, a frown etching itself across his face as he finds the bed and surrounding area as empty as the rest of the rooms. He straightens and crosses to the bed, dropping onto it with a sigh of defeat as Evie emerges from the bathroom damp haired and wearing a robe.

“I wondered when you’d come in.”

“I thought you’d gone ahead to bed without me.” He answers patting the space beside him and grinning when Evie offers a soft smile and a shake of her head.

“You know I can’t sleep without you.”

“All those nightly phone calls would seem to suggest that but I can never be too sure.” He pats the space beside him once more and flashes a triumphant grin when she complies.

Evie sits down next to him and lets him take the towel from her without any fuss, closing her eyes as he gently towels her hair dry. It’s something she’s told him time and time again that he doesn’t have to do for her but he always insists⏤ cutting off any protest she makes by remarking that it never tangles when he does it. It’s a small thing, true, but it’s something he’s done for her since they first moved in with one another all those years ago.

“You seemed upset earlier. What were you were talking with Sully about?” She muses, only becoming concerned when Sam’s movements still and the towel slips from her hair as he stands and walks back to the bathroom to hang it up without a word. “Sam?”

“It’s wasn’t anything important.” He walks back into the bedroom and lays on his side of the bed, one hand tucked beneath his head. “Lay down with me? I haven’t had you to myself all day.”

Evie sighs playfully⏤ as if it’s some big ordeal⏤ and cuddles up to him, resting her head on his chest as he wraps his free arm around her. “It’s not like you to get upset over things you don’t think are important.” She feels Sam wilt beneath her touch and sits up, her gaze soft as a look of defeat crosses his face. “I’m not going to push you on it… but I do think you could use something to take your mind off whatever it is that’s bothering you.”

“What’d you have in mind, doll?”

She doesn’t answer, merely climbs onto his lap and loosens the belt of her robe with a raised brow instead⏤ an action Sam returns with his signature grin. He rests his hands on her thighs, slowly sliding his palms up the soft skin and beneath her robe… and quirks a brow when he finds far less fabric than he expected.

“Planning on seducing me, were you?”

“I still can if you get your pants off.”

“Just my pants?”

“Well, it’d be a lot more fun with all your clothes off but I can make do if you’d rather be lazy about it.” She teases, laughing when he presses a hand to his chest as if wounded. “So how about it?”

“Hm,” he muses, sliding his hands back down her legs until they rest just above her knees. “I’d say have at it, and that this reminds me of our first date. You know, I still think a hat really would’ve made the whole thing. I’d b⏤”

“I swear if the word stallion leaves your mouth, you’ll be sleeping in the living room.” At Sam’s laugh she tacks on a stern, “I’m not joking.”

“I’m just playing, doll. Not about the memory, of course.”

“I can see your⏤ point!” Evie’s voice cuts off in a small shriek as Sam quickly flips her over and pins her to the mattress. “Sam⏤” She barely gets his name out before he’s leaning in for a kiss and any and all coherent thought flies out the window.

His hands are as busy as his mouth, deftly tugging the top her robe open and sliding ever downwards to undo the belt holding the rest of it closed. He stops for a moment when her fingertips slide beneath the edge of his shirt, grazing just above the top of his pants and tracing lazy circles against his skin.

“Evie, that is… very distracting.”

“I don’t think it’ll be any fun for you if I’m the only one naked.” She counters, ceasing her movements to tug at his shirt instead. “Take your shirt and your pants off and then you can get back to what you had planned.” She adds, looking up at him with a seductive grin.

Sam rocks back onto his knees and yanks his shirt over his head, tossing it off into the depths of the darkened room. He undoes the button his pants and climbs off the bed to let the article of clothing fall to the floor. He fixes his gaze on Evie, love and lust glimmering in his eyes, as he drops his boxers as well before he gets back into bed with her— Evie’s barely half-closed robe the only thing keeping them from being skin to skin. He places a hand on either side of her and settles between her legs, a smirk gracing his face at the way her mouth drops open and her pupils blow wide. It’s far from the first time they’ve done this, but Sam’s a bit proud to say he gets the same reaction every time.

“Think you could lose that robe now?”

Evie nods and quickly wriggles out of it, her giggle as Sam yanks it out from beneath her and tosses it into the depths of the bedroom replaced by a soft moan as he rolls his hips and grinds down against her. She returns his movement with her own, nails digging into his back as she bucks her hips upwards— her eagerness earning a laugh from Sam as he kisses her. They continue this way for some time, wandering hands sure to leave marks as things become more and more heated.

Eventually the two of them decide enough is enough— Evie’s annoyed whine when Sam retreats only further cementing the fact. “Sam, I swear— Just—“

“Ah, small problem, doll.” Sam stills, his hands firmly locked on Evie’s hips to halt any further movements she might attempt to make. He presses his forehead against her own snd loosens his grip, a disgruntled sigh escaping him as he speaks. “I don’t know where I put the condoms.”

“Is that all?” Evie asks with a hint of a smile and amusement barely hidden in her voice as she runs her hands along his shoulders, down his arms, and back up again. “Sam, it’s fine. I’m okay with it if you are.”

“Are you sure?”

“There’s no guarantee one time will be the charm, you know.” She lifts a hand to the nape of his neck and runs her fingers through his hair, gently urging him down to her. “Even if it were guaranteed... well, I have to admit a little baby version of you would be very cute.”

Sam pulls back to gaze at her, adoration heavy in his eyes. “What did I do to deserve you.” He murmurs, leaning back down to kiss her as he takes himself in hand and presses inside her. Evie exhales a breathy moan into the kiss as he slowly rocks his hips into her own, setting a slow and sensual pace. He trails a line of kisses to her neck and nips at the skin, smirking when she digs her nails into his back as he gives a particularly hard surge of his hips. “God, I love you.” He murmurs, sliding a hand beneath her back in an attempt to press her even closer.

“I love you too, Sam. More than— Oh—” She stops talking and clings tightly to him, on hand tangled in his hair and the other entwined with his own as they both cross the edge one after the other.

Sam wakes hours later, rolling onto his back and glancing to his left, where Evie lies sprawled languidly next to him with the blanket drawn up over her chest. She’s sleeping soundly, apparently exhausted from the day’s⏤ and night’s⏤ events. He smiles to himself and rolls carefully onto his side as he reaches over to open the top drawer of the bedside table. He spots the familiar box and breathes a sigh of relief, thankful that Nathan had stashed the object where he’d been hiding it for the entire stay thus far. He chides himself for ever leaving it out in the open to begin with and takes the box in hand as he rolls back over, thumping his head back onto the pillow. “Attempt number five, another failure. I can’t believe I’ve messed up every single time.”

“Messed up every time at what?” Evie asks with a yawn as she moves over to snuggle up to him and rests her head on his chest. Her gaze settles on the object held in his hand and she squints at it in confusion, still slightly sleep addled.“Sam, what’s that?”

He stiffens, fingers closing around the velvet box in an attempt to hide it. He chides himself for getting it out; even more so for taking it out post-sex. How on earth was that romantic? He tells himself he can play it off, wait and see if she falls back asleep, bluff, anything. Until Evie sits up, the sheet clutched against her chest as she stares him down with a still sleepy emerald gaze.

“Is everything okay?”

“Everything’s fine.” He hesitates, then sighs in defeat as he sits up as well. “This is not how I wanted to do this. I mean, we’re alone which was part of the goal but I wanted it to be— Evie? Doll, what’s on your mind?”

“Sam, are you...” She says, voice soft and hesitant as he studies her.

“Am I—“

“Are you... breaking up with me?”

Out of all the things she could’ve said, all variations of ‘proposing’ in his head, to say that was the most unexpected would be an understatement.

“What? Am I— Am I breaking up with you?” He drops the box on the bedside table and reaches for her, warm hands pulling her close. “Jesus Christ, Evie, no. Why would you think that?”

“You led with how it wasn’t how you wanted to do this and I just thought of all the things you tried to do this past week... I thought maybe you were trying to soften the blow.”

“... Do you want to break-up?” He asks carefully, brow furrowed in worry as he looks down at her still holding her tightly.

“No, of course not!”

“Oh, good, good. That is a relief, let me tell you.” Sam kisses her on the cheek and then on the mouth— long and deep. “Oh, I could not have screwed this up any more if I tried.” He murmurs as he breaks the kiss and releases her from the embrace while he leans over to grab the black velvet box again. This time, he holds it normally and makes no attempt to hide it as he watches her reaction.

“Sam?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a long time. I bought before I even had a plan for how I was going to do this. Jesus, I even asked Nathan for advice.” He shakes his head and glances down at the box held in his palm. “He said when the moment was right, that I would know.” He falls silent for a time, rubbing his fingers across the soft surface before he speaks again— looking into her eyes this time. “The moment’s been right for a while, even more so since you surprised me here. I just... wanted it to be perfect. Romantic, something you’d remember for all the right reasons.”

“Oh my—“

“So, knowing full well that I have screwed this up worse than anything else I’ve ever done, I’m going to try anyway.” He opens the lid and holds it aloft towards her. “Miss Evelyn Crane, my absolutely beautiful Evie... will you marry me?”

Evie drops the sheet, flinging herself towards him and wrapping her arms around him— nearly knocking him flat. She holds him tightly and he makes a weak joke “that bad, huh.” when he hears her choke back a sob, then laugh.

“Oh, Sam.” She moves back, putting just a bit of space between them and clutches the sheet to her chest with one hand while scrubbing at her tears with the other. “Hang on, I need a minute.”

“If you’re going to say no, I’d rather you just put me out of my misery.”

“Samuel.”

“Kidding.” A pause, “I deserve the full name, I did use yours. My mistake. Start over when you’re ready?” She laughs and he takes that as a yes. “Miss Evie Crane, will you marry me?”

“Yes.” She leans in and cups his face with both hands as she kisses him. “Yes, Sam Drake, I’ll marry you.”

Later that morning when the sun has finally made it’s ascent and most of the Drakes and their visitors and have settled onto the front porch, Nate finally checks his phone and sees he’d received a message from his brother in the early morning hours along with a photo.

Sam [2:06 AM]

It’s official!

[Attached is a photo of Sam and Evie kissing, her hand held high in his own to showcase the sparkling ring on her finger.]

“Alright, he finally did it! Elena, look!”

“What happened?”

“Your Uncle Sam finally proposed to your Aunt Evie.”

“They’re getting married? That’s awesome!” Cassie turns to face Sully, who’s already nursing a beer in the early a.m. “Uncle Sully, doesn’t that mean it’s your turn?”

The table erupts in laughter as a sputtering Sully nearly sprays his beer across the expanse of white sand beneath them.

“She’s not wrong, Sully. Elena and I got married, Sam and Evie are getting married... you’re the last one left.”

“Nate.”

#ship: world in my eyes #oc: evie crane #verse: adventures in love #sam drake x oc #evie crane x sam drake #33 pages and 11k later and i've finally finished it #originally it was going to be a bit more raunchy but the whole idea was soft to begin with so i went that route instead #i hope you all have as much fun reading it as i did writing it!

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hydrospanners · 4 years

Text

a very velaran life day

every 3 years, wookiees across the galaxy come together to mourn what they've lost, honor what they love, and celebrate the plans they have for the future. and maybe it's a bit weird to be so invested in a holiday mainly meant for wookiees, but no one ever said the velarans were normal. these are the thinly-veiled holiday vignettes about jedi knight nirea velaran's family and those who orbit them throughout the years. chapter 1 of 17. swtor genfic. character background/origins for my jedi knight nirea velaran who is not actually in this chapter but her dad and aunt are. 2283 words. ao3.

25 BTC - Coronet City, Corellia

The twelfth time A Day to Celebrate starts to play, Ranna flings the transceiver against the wall. It flies through the holotree still clinging to life by the window, leaving the neon branches flickering, its motor whining as it struggles to regen the projection.

She hopes it fails, but even her misery is a disappointment today. The tree solidifies into a standard, jolly tree shape and the busted transceiver is just whole enough to keep playing that stupid fucking song.

A day to celebrate, she thinks, bitterness dripping from her thoughts. What the fuck have I got left to celebrate?

Her knee hurts so much she can’t even hobble to the kitchen for a beer to numb the pain. Not that it matters; she drank the last beer hours ago, and it’s not like there’s anyone around to run to the store for her, is there?

“Happy fucking Life Day,” she grumbles, glaring at the transceiver like that might be enough to finally do it in.

It isn’t. Joy to the Worm starts playing and it’s somehow even worse than A Day to Celebrate.

Pain pulses through her leg, her buzz finally wearing off enough that she can feel her legs again, and Ranna desperately wishes she’d given up and gone to bed hours ago. Her parents won’t be back from work until morning and Raad is--

Who the fuck knows where Raad is? She hasn’t heard from him since she washed out of the Academy. He’d been annoyingly optimistic about it--“It’s not washing out,” he’d tried to tell her. “It’s a medical discharge. That’s different.”--but then he’d vanished into thin air and she’d had to take a public transport back home, alone with her beat up go-bag and the enormous contraption meant to be healing her knee. Not exactly the cutting edge of medical technology, but it was the best they could spare for a useless, busted nugget. Anything for the fucking war.

Stars, she needs a beer.

No. Not a beer. She needs a whiskey. She needs six whiskeys. Six whiskeys and maybe a very limber young lady with a nice smile and nicer--

“Happy Life Day!”

Like she summoned him with her thoughts, Raad bursts through the front door. His face is flushed with cold and his are eyes sparkling with excitement, an almost-beard she’s never seen before sprouting across his jaw. He’s aged six years in the six months since she saw him.

Ranna wants to punch him square in his handsome fucking face.

She wants to throw her arms around him and never let him go.

“Where the fuck have you been?” She demands, reaching for the anger because that’s what she always does. Because tonight is not the night for personal fucking growth.

Raad just laughs. “I missed you too,” he says, grinning like everything is just the way it used to be. Like the galaxy’s still full of possibility and adventure. Like her life didn’t just end before it even got started. “You ready to see what I got you for Life Day?” His smile slips, just for a second, while his eyes search for the missing chrono, now one of the six different pieces of shattered transceiver scattered across the floor. “It is still Life Day isn’t it? I know I was cutting it close, but--”

“Oh, it’s Life Day alright.” Joy to the Worm finally ends, but it’s followed up with a static-y Bingle Bells which is even worse. “All fucking day.”

Undeterred by her mood as always--both his most charming and most annoying trait--Raad just beams at her. “Great. Then let’s go see your present!”

Ranna snorts, gesturing to the sixty pounds of metal caging her stupidass leg. “Not fucking likely.”

“You can still ride in a speeder. C’mon Ranna, it’ll be worth it, I swear!”

It’s a tired line by now and she’s never known it to be true, but Raad looks down at her with those big, brown eyes so full of earnestness and excitement and it doesn’t matter how sideways his promises always go. She’s gonna go right along with anything he asks cause she’s a damned fool who could never say no to that pleading look. Cute fucking asshole.

She scowls up at him half-heartedly. “You want me to go, you’re gonna have to carry my ass.”

He’s supposed to laugh--a year ago he would have--but things have changed while she’s been at the Academy. Her little string bean is tall now, half a head taller than her, and that lanky frame of his has filled out. He reaches down, all earnest excitement, and lifts her out of the chair like she weighs nothing at all. Of course, he bangs her caged leg on the door twice trying to maneuver her out of it, but she’s so proud he can carry her now she doesn’t do more than hiss at him when he does it.

And, of course, grab her blaster from the holster hanging by the door. She learned a long time ago not to go anywhere with Raad without proper precautions.

The speeder is not one she remembers, but it looks just like every other ride he’s ever had. The chassis are a thousand years old and beat all to hell, patched in a dozen places with pieces from a dozen different machines, looking like the only thing holding it together is spit and luck. And if it’s anything like his other rides, under all that rust and despair is a pristine fucking engine that looks and flies like it was lifted directly from the speeder of the most corrupt Senator on Coruscant.

“Where’d you get this hunk of junk?”

Raad shrugs, trying to ease her into the passenger seat without much success on the easing part. “She’s a loaner. My friend Telo’s.”

“You? Without a speeder? Never thought I’d see the day.”

Once Ranna’s in, trying very hard to hide how much her leg hurts after he banged it against everything coming and going, Raad swings his legs over the side of the speeder and drops into the pilot’s seat. “Some things are more important than speeders,” he says, smiling that smile he always wears when he’s trying to hide something. He’s the worst fucking liar in the galaxy.

“Not to you,” Ranna says.

“Might be I’ve learned a thing or two since you left.”

Ranna snorts. “We’ll see about that.”

Seeing as how the speeder isn’t actually Raad’s, the shabby exterior isn’t actually disguising tens of thousands of credits’ worth of exquisite machinery under the hood. It’s a rough, stuttering ride to the spaceport. Ranna tries her best not to swear every time her leg gets knocked around by the damn thing, but she knows she isn’t succeeding.

Raad takes it all in stride. He’s in one of those moods where he’s so happy nothing can touch him and it’d be annoying if it wasn’t so damned contagious.

Happy fucking bastard.

Once the speeder is parked and Raad comes round to haul her useless ass out, Ranna throws up a hand, looking at him suspiciously. “I’m not gonna get arrested for this, am I?”

The trouble is, she can’t figure what he could possibly have gotten her that would have to stay in the spaceport. He can’t afford anything big and he’s gotta know she’d have nowhere to store it even he could. Which basically just leaves smuggled shit. Either that or he finally convinced Kalinski to let her have a free swing. She’s been waiting half her life to nail that smug little motherfucker right in his prissy motherfucking nose and she doesn’t want to get her hopes up or anything, but punching Kalinski would really turn her Life Day around.

All Raad says is, “I guess that depends on how you use it. Let’s go.”

Not exactly comforting. And probably not a free swing at Kalinski either. But it’s not like she’s got a military career left to ruin so what’s another fucking arrest?

She sacrifices her dignity on the pyre of his excitement and lets Raad wrap an arm around her waist, half-dragging her through the port. It’s crowded just the same as it always is. Doesn’t matter if it’s Life Day or Election Day or Invasion Day; someone always needs to get somewhere and there’s always credits to be made taking them, so the spaceport is always crowded. Over the noise and bustle, she thinks she can hear the faint sound of fucking Bingle Bells playing on the loudspeaker.

Thankfully, it isn’t far before Raad’s steps start to slow. “Okay,” he says, “time to close your eyes, Ran. We’re almost there.”

“Close my eyes?” She snorts. “I’m already crippled. You want to blind me too?”

He rolls his eyes. “Just do it, okay? I swear it’s not much farther.”

Making a show of her reluctance, Ranna lets her eyes fall shut. It’s disorienting as hell, but Raad is taking so much of her weight he’s practically carrying her over the last few steps to what she guesses is one of the hangar bays. She’s tempted to have a look, just to see if she’s right, but Raad wants to surprise her and she can’t let him down.

“No peeking!” He warns.

“I think you’re overestimating my curiosity,” she teases, and he laughs right in her ear.

They shuffle to a stop and she can feel the way his hands tighten on her waist, the way he’s almost trembling with anticipation. She can hear the faint countdown he’s doing under his breath as he blows out a long, steadying exhale.

“Okay,” he finally says. “Open your eyes.”

She does.

Her good knee trembles beneath her, almost collapsing under the weight of what she sees.

Ranna can’t see his face, can’t look anywhere but straight ahead, at the impossible thing she can’t be seeing, but she doesn’t have to look at him to know he’s beaming like a thousand suns.

“She’s The Golden Gizka,” Raad says. “And she’s all yours, Ran. Right and legal and everything.”

For the first time in months, Ranna forgets her pain. The weight of everything lifts from her chest, and when she sucks in a deep breath of air, it doesn’t even matter that the air down here is stale and stinks of oil and unwashed bodies. It’s the best gulp of air she’s ever had, because it’s her first breath as a motherfucking captain.

“Well fuck me sideways,” she says.

Raad laughs.

“Karking shit, Raad. H--” She starts to ask how he’d done this impossible thing, but then she remembers the borrowed speeder, the way he vanished right after she washed out.

“Now before you go being impressed my noble generosity,” Raad says, “you should know I’m changing the engine codes if you don’t make me your first mate.”

She laughs, trying to ignore the way tears are stinging at the corners of her eyes. “Who the fuck else would I pick?”

They don’t talk about it, but they both know all her bridges here got burned before she left. And maybe that’s why she’s staring down a glorious hunk of junk with her name on the title; maybe Raad figured out why she burned those bridges. Why she left Corellia in the first place. Maybe he feels like he owes her.

She wants to ask, but she doesn’t. Maybe one day she’ll be brave enough to wonder why.

“You keep stroking my ego like that,” Raad says, “my head’ll be too big to fit up the ramp.”

“Shame.”

He laughs, and then he’s dragging her forward, to the lowered boarding ramp of the ship that is, unbelievably, hers. “I know she’s not much to look at--”

“--but she’s got it where it counts?” Ranna finishes for him.

He hesitates. “Uh, no. Not really. She’s pretty much junk on the inside too. But I know this mechanic...”

He gives her a sheepish look, like she’s going to be upset with him for giving her a garbage ship. Like the condition of the thing matters at all when he just gave her a motherfucking starship.

“Raadris Velaran, I know you aren’t out there hiring my crew before I’ve even boarded my ship.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Captain.” He grins one of those shit-eating grins she loves best. “But as your first mate, I’ve got some suggestions.”

“If it’s Daeleth you’re about to pitch, don’t waste your breath.”

Raad’s face falls. “Really?”

“He’s the best starsdamned mechanic on Corellia, Raad, and that’s saying something. Save the sales pitch for him. Stars know we’ve got fuck all to offer.”

“Oh you don’t need to worry about that. I got a plan.”

Raad having a plan was the very definition of something she needed to worry about, but worry could wait until tomorrow. Today, for the eleven glorious minutes left in the best Life Day she could ever remember having, Ranna Velaran wasn’t going to worry about a damn thing.

“Can she get off the ground at least?” She asks.

Raad waggles his brows at her. “Only one way to find out, isn’t there?”

Ranna’s no expert, but she knows enough to know that The Gizka is in rough shape. Maybe rough enough shape that just cranking the sublight could be the end of her, and possibly the end of everyone in a half-mile radius.

But what’s the point of living without taking a risk every now and again?

Head held high and walking under her own power for the first time in days, Captain Ranna Velaran hobbles slowly up the boarding ramp of her very own starship.

“Happy fucking Life Day indeed.”

#swtor #swtor fic #introducing some very niche self-indulgent bullshit #the velaran legacy #ranna velaran #raadris velaran #a very velaran life day #hydrofic #hydroswfic #hydrostuff #hydroswstuff

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spoons4spoonies · 5 years

Text

Story Time

My secondary school holds a leaving ball for Year 13 students every June after exams are finished. It is a lavish affair with free champagne and a private bar and is run jointly with the boy’s school. The tickets are expensive even if you choose to be sober (like me) or are underage (like a few of my friends), but it’s the last time you will see many of your peers and teachers. Unless of course you are the type to find endless excuses to come back to visit, and are also the type of student that the school wants to visit. It will not surprise you to know that I am both.

Anyway, though there is not technically a dress code (evidenced by the fact that one boy turned up in a long vest as some kind of joke that showed off an unseemly proportion of his chest hair and was skin tight in a very unflattering manner) most girls wear ball gowns and high heels. I myself chose to wear scarlet high heels – the kind that you only wear if you plan to be sitting down most of the evening – and a beautiful dress I’d bought in a sale from my favourite shop. It was black velvet (or velvet style, real velvet no doubt costs more than thirty pounds) with a wide skirt patterned with flowers and birds in gold and red and green thread. My sister was even convinced to wear makeup and do her hair for her ball, probably one of three times I have ever seen her wear eyeshadow.

For many years, it had been tradition for the leaving ball to be held on a river boat on the Thames. No doubt this was the decision of the boy’s school as they had control over all these things. (Just a little casual sexism, but that’s for another day). I had heard many stories about this notorious boat; people getting travel sick from the turbulence, people breaking ankles and other bones falling over getting into the boat (I.e. before they were even drunk! That’s high heels for you I suppose) and of it generally being a bit of a hazard. My sister was certainly fairly unimpressed by it.

As someone who could get motion sick on a bicycle, it is something of an understatement to say I was relieved when they decided to host it in the Museum of London for my year. Though I have to say I didn’t trust my peers to act sensibly around the exhibits once drunk.

I got my hair done that afternoon and my aunt arrived to look after me (I may have been eighteen but even at twenty I am still not entirely trusted on my own) as my parents and sister were attending her graduation ceremony in Cambridge. She received a double first, another in a long line of academic achievements that I will never fail to be proud of her for. I am sad that I couldn’t be there too, but with my energy levels it wouldn’t have been manageable.

I travelled to the ball in style in a black cab with my friend and neighbour who we shall call Corporal for their time spent in the Army cadets. They were wearing a tailored suit bought for them by their godmother that had a Praedae Causa embroidered under the collar – a Latin phrase that we translated to mean “For the sake of the booty”. A very private school joke.

For the first hour we gathered in an upstairs hall where the free champagne was delivered and tap water was surprisingly hard to come by. It was here that our teachers joined us (some for the free alcohol I suspect) and mingling was encouraged. My main concern was the lack of chairs, given my shoes and the weakness of my legs (though I had not yet been diagnosed with POTS at this point, I knew far too well how little I liked standing up for long periods of time). But I remember getting lots of praise for my outfit, something I bask in, and trying to get as many photos as possible with my friends.

A, one of my Kpop friends, was wearing a beautiful traditional sarong in red and gold and had huge false eyelashes on that greatly suited her. I believe this was before she shaved her head for charity so she would have had her long curly hair. N was wearing a lovely red dress – unusual for her – that she had some trouble ordering as the company got the measurements wrong and sent a damaged version. But she looked stunning regardless and she had the luck to be going with her girlfriend – they are still together, and are definitely what one might call couple goals.

Then we were carefully directed downstairs to another room with big, round tables and a section for dancing at the far end. The music they were playing wasn’t the best, as for licensing reasons they could only play covers of pop songs. Mostly I wish they wouldn’t play music at all during dinner as one can’t hear the conversation at all.

First course couldn’t come soon enough – by this point I was starving! – it was gravlax and grapefruit in not exactly generous portions. Luckily, my friends didn’t like raw fish, so I had several helpings! The main course was beef and potato dauphinoise, and again I had several helpings as N had just stopped eating dairy. Then came pudding, the best part of any meal, which was a chocolate brownie, ice cream and some coffee flavoured mousse that I immediately passed off to someone else. I ended up eating more than one brownie, so all in all I certainly got my money’s worth.

Then it was time to dance, and you can bet I was one of the first up on the dancefloor! I had decided that since this was a onetime occasion and I had nowhere to be for the next few days, I might as well go full out and enjoy myself. I naively assumed that I could ignore my energy limits.

After three years, you’d have thought I would have learnt by now…

But I was not to be stopped and I dropped it low on the dancefloor – much easier with high heels as the leg muscles have less work to do – to some classic 2012 hits and spun and jumped and shimmied my way into an asthma attack.

I should clarify at this point that I do not actually have asthma (though I shouldn’t tempt the devil by saying such things) but I had clearly pissed off my body sufficiently that it resorted to drastic measures. It had tried to warn me gently a few times that enough is enough – aching feet, stitch, out of breath, slight back pain, heartbeat out of control, dizziness… I could go on – but since I had ignored all the warning signs it had started banging pots and pans together to get my attention.

Now that I was quite short of breath and it had reached ten thirty, I decided that I had had my fun and that it would be a sensible time to catch a taxi home. Then my breath decided to get a little shorter despite drinking water and sitting down and I began to panic ever so slightly. I went upstairs to get a little cool air, having said my goodbyes to many and various, and was lucky enough to come across E – another Kpop friend and my spoonie buddy – who immediately proffered her inhaler.

This helped with the breathing situation, but it was becoming alarmingly clear that my body was not even halfway done with its little tantrum. For at that moment, I started to come out in hives. Now, this was not the first time I had experienced that dreadful, full body itch of despair and past mistakes – many a nut reaction had induced the same effect. However, I could not for the life of me figure out why I was being cursed with it today.

I had specifically requested a nut free meal, and double checked every course. Hell, I had even eaten two and a half brownies! (Not that that is much of an indication as I have been known to have terrible self-restraint at times). I had no other symptoms (which I suppose I must be thankful for) so it couldn’t have been a nut reaction.

I hastily took some piriteze (I carry them with me everywhere in anticipation of future stupidity) and geared myself up for going home. I was faced with a walk through the dark to the nearest busy road to find a taxi, or waiting long enough for my parents to come pick me up (by this time they had returned from Cambridge). Neither seemed appealing due to the heel situation and my desperation to crawl out of my own skin respectively. I did not feel I could wait any longer before getting in a hot shower and dousing myself in Aloe Vera, but I also suddenly had no energy.

Thankfully help arrived in the form of E’s father as she had also decided to call it a night, and in her naturally mother hen way had taken it upon herself to get me home safe. He drove us back to my house to drop me off and I was hastily bundled into the shower by a loving mother. Soon enough I was back in a cool bed and significantly less itchy.

It was only later, when I mentioned the whole debacle to my specialist, that she revealed the source of my suffering: mould and dust. That’s right ladies, gentlemen and non-binary babes, I had an allergic reaction to a museum.

Not my finest moment.

-Mod H

#spoonie #story time #london museum #nut allergy #allergies #cfs #pots #spoonie humor

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multific · 6 years

Text

Full

1940s AU!

Summary: Hux always loved to be a doctor, helping others was his life. But you weren’t like any other patient.

A/N: I just watched The Little Stranger and got inspired to write this. Hope you like it! Enjoy~

People always told him that he had a mean look. That he looked annoyed all the time. Even as a little boy.

And Armitage started to believe them. Although deep down he knew, they couldn’t be further from the truth.

He decided to become a doctor to his mother’s wishes. She did everything in her will to give his son the proper education. And that was what put her into an early grave, his father was never in the picture, so Armitage was left all alone.

But he managed.

He got himself a little apartment and even a car. Which at that time was something.

He had a private clinic for himself where he examined patients. Families paid well for him to treat them. Ultimately he had a nice life, but something was missing.

He was currently in his examination room looking after Mrs Mcloan.

“Nothing serious, ma’am. Just a simple cold. I will give you some medicine and you should be fine.”

The elderly woman smiled at the red-haired man, thanked him and then left.

She was the last patient for the day. It has already begun to get dark outside.

He was packing his bag and about to leave when his phone rang.

***

“Thank you for coming, Doctor. And in such short notice as well.”

“It’s perfectly fine Mrs. Y/L/N.”

“My daughter has been sick for the last couple of days. I’m worried for her, she’s not herself.”

As the woman walked him around the enormous house, he had little time to look around, the house was fancy and luxurious. He was mesmerized by it all.

“This way doctor.” the woman said and opened a door which leads to a big room. It had lots of books in it, the décor was quite simple.

And in the middle of it was a huge bed.

As Armitage walked closer, he looked at the young female laying between the warm sheets.

You.

As you opened your eyes and looked at the man standing next to your bed, you tried to sit up but failed. You were way too weak.

For some reason Armitage wanted to help you, but he knew better. He only watched you.

He had to admit, you were the most beautiful woman he has ever seen.

“Good evening, Ms Y/L/N. My name is Dr Armitage Hux. I will be your doctor.” he said once he found his voice.

So he began with his routine. Your mother watched with worried eyes.

“I have to ask some questions Ms. Y/L/N. Would you mind leaving us alone Mrs. Y/L/N?”

Without another word your mother and your maid left the room. Armitage turned back to you. You looked pale and tired, almost dead if he was honest with himself. You must have been sick for longer than just a few days.

“Ms Y/L/N, how long have you been unwell?” you looked into his eyes and Armitage swore he felt something in his move, something that never did before.

“About one and a half week…maybe two.” your voice was weak. The man shook his head.

“Do you feel any sort of pain?” you could only nod.

“Where exactly?” you pulled your hands up and placed it on your chest. The doctor nodded.

“Is the pain burning pain or stabbing pain?” you stopped for a few seconds, made a face and answered.

“Burning.”

“Okay, most likely you have some kind of pneumonia. I will give a vaccine to you.”

The doctor did his job. But he could help but notice your smooth skin.

***

Doctor Hux has been coming to your home for about a month now. You slowly started to get better and better.

“Hello Doctor.” you greeted him as he entered your room.

“Good morning Ms Y/L/N.”

He did his usual stuff. While checking your pulse he accidentally touched stomach. It made you flinch a little since you weren’t used to someone else’s touch, especially not a man’s.

“I’m so sorry.” he said, face becoming red.

“It’s okay.” you whispered back. It made him look up as his gorgeous green eyes met with yours.

You became slightly red. The two of you just stared at one another. He suddenly looked at your lips then back into your eyes. He slowly leant forward and that’s when the door opened and in came your mother.

She stopped as Armitage leant back quickly, hoping your mother didn’t see anything, he quickly collected his things and left in a hurry.

As he left he missed to see your disappointed face or the grin on your mother’s.

***

“I don’t understand why my mother insists on you still coming over. I mean, you already cured me.”

“You sound like you don’t like my company.”

“Oh no! I do. It’s just I think she has a plan of some sorts.” He pulled the stethoscope out of his ears as he looked at you.

This time you were sitting in one of the many lounges that your house had to offer. With the doctor right in front of you. He sat down on a chair in front of yours.

“What sorts of plan, Ms Y/L/N?”

“I already told you to call me, Y/N, Doctor.” the male nodded. And waiting for you to continue. “I think she wants to set us up. The other day Becca, one of our maids, said that my mum thinks we have a spark. She would have already given you my hand in marriage if it wasn’t up to you.” you said and picked up your tea.

It was true, Armitage did develop feelings for you during his time of visit. The only problem was that he was too shy to do anything about it. Since he was afraid of rejection.

“And…what do you think, Y/N? Do you think we have a….spark?” he watched you carefully. A small smile danced along your lips.

“Maybe.”

***

You always loved dancing.

So when Armitage asked you to go to a party with him, you were more than happy. You picked out a nice dress of yours.

At first Armitage didn’t want to dance, saying he was bad at it.

“Come on, Armitage, please!”

“I’m a horrible dancer.” but in the end, you convinced him. And as it turned out, he wasn’t so bad.

The two of you danced until you could barely walk.

He drove you home, it was pretty late in the night.

As Armitage drove he realized that you have fallen asleep. Your skirt slowly got pulled upwards so he had a view of a little bit of your thigh and your knee.

He had to stop himself from reaching over and running his fingers along it. Your skin looked way too smooth to him.

A bump in the road shock the whole vehicle. It made you get up. You looked at Armitage who was looking at the road.

After he pulled up in front of your house, he stopped the engine.

“Thank you for tonight, Armitage. I really enjoyed myself.” before he could even say something, you placed a kiss to his cheek and exited the car.

The smile that was on his face for days after said it all.

***

The next time you met him was because of tragic. You father had passed away, leaving your mother and yourself all alone.

At the funeral, Armitage was there and he held you while you were crying.

After that day, Armitage came over more frequently. He was worried about you.

What he didn’t expect was for you to open the door to him. Not a maid, but you.

“Everyone is out. My mother went to visit my aunt and the maids are all with their family.” you explained to him. As you stood right next to the fireplace.

“So, you are all alone? That’s not safe.” you chuckled a little.

“It’s fine, I have you here now.” you said as you went ahead and kissed him. He reciprocated the kiss as his hands went to cup your cheeks. Your hand roamed into his short hair.

After a few moments of heat he pulled away, although his body and brain told him not to.

“Are you sure about this? About us?” he asked looking into your eyes

“I love you Armitage.” was all you needed to say before his lips were on yours again.

On that very night, your love blossomed as you both reached your climaxes.

Later that evening Armitage was looking at you as you slept against his chest.

“I love you too, Y/N.” he kissed your forehead before he went to sleep while holding you close.

***

On your wedding day, your mother went all out and purchased a house for the two of you.

You couldn’t wait to start life with the man you love. Your husband picked you up bridal style, while you were still in your wedding dress and carried you into your new home.

And Armitage’s life finally felt full.

Little did he know about the little girl that will be born a year later.

His daughter will truly be the one who would make his life more than full.

Taglist: imreadinggoaway fleursirvart v-2bucky ehsebastian crunch-time-sports pxstelrainbow ablogbypeteparker liamssmiler smexylemony greenarrowhead feelingsareharddd thisismysecrethappyplace sincerelyfan theoneanna

~Masterlist~

#general hux x reader #general hux imagine #general hux imagines #armitage hux #armitage hux x reader #armitage hux imagine #armitage hux x you #armitage hux x y/n #fanfiction #multific #1940s AU #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #star wars au #the little stranger fanfiction

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imagine-loki · 6 years

Text

Never Enough

TITLE: Never Enough CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1 AUTHOR: the-devil-herself ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine finding out that your soulmate is Loki and your very first kiss is interrupted by Thor shouting “Yeeessss” RATING: M NOTES/WARNINGS: This first chapter has an underage character, however, it is only a flashback. The character will be well of age by the present time in the next chapter!

After the events of the Battle of New York, Loki has been assigned to help the Avengers in their most dangerous missions because of his magic and powers. Loki is forced to live inside the Avengers compound with the rest of them, including you. As a seemingly normal woman, what reason do you have to reside inside the confines of the compound? As Loki tries to figure out your background, he notices a mark covered on your arm. (AU where Thor: The Dark World and resulting movies do not happen)

2011

“We need to get closer!”

“Are you crazy?” Dr. Selvig screamed at his colleague, Jane Foster. “We could die!”

Jane simply ignored him as she raced the car closer to the storm that seemed about to reach the ground, almost like a tornado. I sat in the back of the car by Darcy, her intern. However, Darcy did not look as nervous as I felt about this. I held on tightly to whatever I could find that was sturdy enough to keep me somewhat stable as the van started to shake violently as we approached the storm. Closing my eyes, I prayed that I would get through this incident unscathed or else my parents would kill my Aunt Jane, and even though we were close to possibly dying, I enjoyed visiting her for the summers.

Darcy looked at me with wide eyes. “Dana, hold on!” she screamed.

Suddenly, our van stopped with a big thunk, and it felt as if we had hit another car. Come to find out, what we hit was no car at all, but a god.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How old are you?” the strange man asked me. It turned out his name was Thor, and he was from a different planet. Thor had just finished explaining his world to my aunt, and she quickly fell asleep in her lawn-chair after such a long day, leaving the god and I to ourselves.

I looked up from Jane’s journal where she had just scribbled as must as her fingers could muster to relate all of what Thor had told us. “Thirteen,” I replied.

“So young!” Thor exclaimed with a widespread grin on his face. “What reason do you have for being on this scientific journey?”

I laughed at his funny but welcoming demeanor. He made extremely comfortable around him even though I had just met him a few days earlier. “I actually have no reason to be here,” I teased. “Jane is my aunt, and I like to come out here to visit her when I can since she lives so far away.”

He nodded in understanding before saying, “Your parents let you come all the way out here just to visit your aunt?”

“They know I like space stuff so they thought it would be good for me to learn from my aunt since she is an expert in space.”

“An expert in space?” he laughed.

“Yeah,” I responded, giggling at my own stupid explanation of her job. “There’s a fancy name for what she does, but I don’t remember it.”

Thor smiled at me as I went back to studying the journal. The wind was picking up and both Thor and Jane were covered with blankets. Even though New Mexico is known for its simmering hot weather, the nights can get chilly. “Do you not need a blanket?” Thor asked, concerned.

“No,” I said while shaking my head. “I don’t get cold that easily. I’m fine right now.”

Thor continued looking at me with something in his eyes. He almost looked sad, but I couldn’t understand why. I know he was just banished from his home and his family and friends, but it seemed he was remembering or thinking back on something. I closed the journal, setting it beside me on my lawn-chair, looking pointedly at him to which he smiled at.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said, “it’s just… you remind me of someone I know.” The sad look in his eyes returned.

“Who?”

One side of his mouth lifted into a small smile. “My brother,” he answered. “You’re both so filled with curiosity and the need to learn. He also did not mind the cold.”

I shifted closer and put my small hand on his shoulder like I’ve seen Dr. Selvig do to Jane when she was upset. Thor turned his head to me and chuckled. “What was he like?” I asked. It was a random question that just popped out of my mouth before I could think. I just felt an urge to know more about this other god.

Thor sighed. “Well he’s a prankster for starters,” he began while he rolled his eyes, making me giggle, “but a master of magic.”

“Magic?” I cried out.

“Yes! Magic! He could shift into any form, move things with his mind, create illusions, and all other kinds of magical things.” Thor continued to describe his intelligent, raven-haired brother to me, sharing funny stories of him shape-shifting into weird animals to prank his family. By the end of our talk, I could see mentions of his brother brought a smile to his face. He adored his brother. However, before I fell asleep in my chair, I saw a few tears roll down his cheeks.

~~~~~~~~~~

Screams became muffled in my head as I tried to process the ruin and destruction before me. A large metal creature came towards us, blasting fire from where its face was supposed to be. Jane and Selvig were helping survivors onto trucks and cars, Darcy was supporting an injured man to a nearby truck, Thor’s space friends were trying to attack the creature, but they were failing. The creature continued to come closer before Thor stepped into the monster’s sight and dropped a heavy shield to the ground, making a resounding bang throughout the town that had suddenly fallen silent.

I could see Thor walking towards it, but I couldn’t hear what he was saying except for the word “brother.” Was this his brother? The one I reminded him of? It couldn’t be. The way he described their relationship, they seemed to be as thick as thieves.

The world fell deadly silent for a moment before Thor was thrown back a few yards from a hard hit by the giant creature. He fell to the ground, and blood came from everywhere. He was dying.

We all ran to him. Selvig tried to yell at me to stay back, but I didn’t listen. I knelt down by the man who had changed Earth as we knew it and brought laughter to our little trailer. Tears were flowing from my eyes, and I could hear Jane sobbing right next to me. Then, I stood up and turned around to face the monster who hurt killed my friend. I glared straight at him and clutching my fists together, but my tears betrayed my strong attitude.

The metal giant just simply stared back. It did not move for a few minutes, only staring back at me. I didn’t back down either but kept looking through the eye holes. almost as if I could see him. The intelligent, raven-haired god. Loki.

Before I knew it, a loud crack of thunder came from behind me. I turned to see Thor up and healthy, in a weird-looking costume that matched his friends, with his hammer that he talked so much about. Thor flew right at the monster and destroyed it. He then carried Jane to the site where we first met him, while Selvig drove Darcy and me. He said goodbye to them all before kissing Jane. He then turned to look at me. “This is not him, something must have happened,” he said determinedly, as if he was convincing himself and not me.

After Thor and his friends were brought back up into the sky, I felt a burning sensation on my wrist. I finally rolled up my sleeves to reveal a mark. A mark that I couldn’t figure out for years. Why did it appear? What did it mean? Afraid to worry Jane over me potentially being hurt, I pulled my sleeve back down and kept the mark a secret for years. Until I finally met him.

#Loki #Lover #Angst #God of Mischief #Others #Imagine #Submitted fic #submission #the-devil-herself #never enough #chapter 1 #soul mate #first kiss #interupted #thor #shouting

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wendella · 5 years

Text

OUTLANDER Outlander Season Finale: Who Are the “Men of Worth” in Season 4? by Natalie Zutter www.tor.com

After last year’s Outlander finale, which literally shipwrecked Claire and Jamie onto the shores of America, I was expecting a bigger cliffhanger ending to this season—that the letter the redcoats delivered to Jamie at River Run would be conscripting the poor Scot to fight on their side in the American Revolution. Then I remembered that it was only 1770, and that the next big war was a few years (or, I’m going to assume, one season) away. Instead, the season 4 finale, filled with resolutions both neat and messy, ends on Jamie getting a much more pressing, one-on-one assignment that reemphasizes this season’s enduring question: Can a good man do a bad thing and remain a “Man of Worth”?

Spoilers for Outlander season 4.

The thing is, it’s difficult to care too much about Jamie being ordered to hunt down Murtagh on behalf of Governor Tryon, because it seems too obvious that, between the two of them, they’ll be able to come up with a solution. That could mean faking Murtagh’s death or smuggling him back to Scotland, and thus away from Fraser’s Ridge, which would carry its own bittersweet heartache, but it’s not as if there’s an ideological chasm between them—hence the low stakes. It also seems a far-off problem when this season was more than a little uneven, and I’m still working through my frustrations with how the Brianna and Roger plots shaped the latter half of the season.

So, what feels like the most appropriate way to send off Outlander season 4 is to return to the theme linking the past thirteen episodes—good men doing bad things, bad men doing things that might have positive ramifications despite their intent—and reexamine the worthiness of Outlander’s men.

Jamie: If I were Jamie, I would be feeling like a right arse by the end of this season. First he helps outlaw Stephen Bonnet escape, out of a misguided sense of goodwill toward a fellow immigrant in this new country, only for that to blow up spectacularly in his face. Of course, he has no way of knowing how the consequences of his act of charity will lead to his daughter getting raped by Bonnet, but it’s a sobering lesson in the dangers of believing the best of your fellow man. Then Jamie swings to the opposite end of the spectrum by assuming that Roger is the one who violated Brianna, beating him senseless without taking a breath to consider, to question the circumstances, propelled by pure rage. Brianna is rightfully furious at him—and they have one of the best moments of the season, when Jamie screams and kicks a chair in frustration and Brianna snaps, “No! You are not allowed to be angrier about this than I am.” He’s clearly wrestling with so much self-loathing that, after twenty years of maturing and growing beyond the hot-headed lad he was when he met Claire, he has regressed back into an impulsive thug.

But Jamie has also learned self-awareness in the intervening decades, as he demonstrates in his incredible scene of vulnerability, asking Claire if she and Bree think that Frank was the better man. He got the girl—she went back in time for him—and he still doubts that he’s good enough. Sam Heughan has brought so much depth and nuance to a character who could have stayed a one-dimensional fantasy; watching James Fraser grow up has been one of the series’ greatest delights.

Roger: On the one hand, Roger endures indescribable pain and suffering as a slave of the Mohawk—the worst possible time travel experience, all because of a misunderstanding he was only partly to blame for. On the other hand, every time he’s offered the chance to be the good guy, he finds a way to be unlikable. Slut-shaming Brianna for being unsure about marrying him as a virgin was difficult to watch, especially considering that the next time they see each other, she was the one to compromise her comfort and pledge her life to him because of his unwillingness to budge. He reiterates multiple times that he had the chance to leave and kept coming back for her, but we only hear that through his telling, which casts him as some romantic hero. At the last minute of the episode he comes riding in on a horse, for crissakes, but that’s more than a day after Jamie and Claire return to River Run, believing that Roger was unwilling to join them.

Again, these are the kinds of choices one would not wish on anyone—such as being told that there is a good chance that Brianna’s baby is not his, and that to honor the terms of their handfast would mean committing to raising that child and spending the rest of his life in the past. If anything, as much as their plotline aggravated me, at least it forced constraints on Roger’s decision, instead of him getting to set the stakes. Roger is not a bad man, but he has demanded a lot of Brianna; I’m curious to see them build a more equal partnership going forward.

Stephen Bonnet: I’m still so impressed with how Bonnet went from charismatic stranger to fatal threat in the space of one episode, and how just a few acts of specific cruelty did so much to change the course of the Fraser family’s lives. Considering how we witnessed his turn in the premiere, it was difficult to muster up any real sympathy for him when Brianna confronted him with her emotional speech about how her child would be nothing like him. Offering up the ruby seemed like a rare moment of vulnerability for the criminal, but I suspect that was more of a formal obligation to contribute one positive thing to this bairn’s life than any regret for raping Brianna in the first place. Also, I’m not convinced that he perished in that prison, and am half-expecting that he will reappear, cockroach-like, next season to kidnap the baby that might be his.

Brianna’s son: Just born, and as far as I remember they did not mention his name. So, for fear of revealing the few book spoilers I stumbled upon in my research (ironic, I know), I’ll just reiterate that he’s a wee fighter and not tack on “like his da” since we are just ignoring his paternity. It was clear, though, that Bree was anxious to meet the little guy, in case she somehow saw Bonnet reflected in his face, but that upon taking him in her arms she was relieved to feel nothing but overwhelming love.

That said, from the moment that Brianna decided to keep the baby, there was no saving her plotline for me. But that’s a discussion for another piece.

Young Ian: I can’t feel anything but oddly maternal pride upon witnessing Ian’s character growth, particularly in this season but even stretching back to when he dragged his poor uncle and aunt across an ocean to save his overeager ass. The season premiere saw him grappling with the trauma of being raped by Geillis, of shaping his identity around what happened to him while not letting it define him; concurrently, he’s learned how to make himself a useful member of Fraser’s Ridge. Sure, offering to marry Brianna was classic dumb Young Ian; selling Roger to the Mohawk was nigh unforgivable. But he more than made up for it by offering up himself in Roger’s place, to live among the Mohawk and replace their dead member. Honestly, it was about time that Ian learned who he was without his blood relations there to protect him. And look how he made it through the gauntlet! That’s our boy.

Murtagh: It’s fascinating to see how the writers fit Murtagh into the narrative, considering that the character is kinda living on borrowed time—that is, he’s long-dead in the books, but they spared him in the adaptation. His and Jamie’s reunion in Wilmington scratched one of my narrative itches—that prolonged moment in which two souls, separated by time and distance, slowly recognize one another while the viewer is screaming omg, hug already!! But now not only are they caught up on the last decade-plus of each other’s lives, but they also recognize that they have landed on different sides of a growing conflict, due to their respective definitions of self-preservation. I’d like to see the series delve more into this next season, to really make it an impossible choice for Jamie.

Side note: Murtagh and Jocasta’s argument-turned-hookup, complete with her throwing whiskey in his face, was amazing.

Fergus: Under-utilized this season, stuck in Wilmington and mostly just reacting to the plot action when it comes to him. What would make Jamie’s dilemma more affecting would be if Fergus (who, it’s been established, can’t find work anywhere else) joins the regulators in earnest—making it twoloved ones that Jamie is contractually bound to hunt down.

Otter Tooth: The initial discovery of Otter Tooth’s skull made it seem as if he and his silver fillings would play a larger role in the season. While at first it was a surprise that it took only half of an episode to lay out his story, it also speaks to the utter tragedy of the failed time traveler. Unlike Claire, who finds a willing believer in Jamie when it comes to Culloden and other predictions of the future, poor Otter Tooth could not convince enough of the Mohawk to heed his warnings about the Iroquois being forgotten. Instead, he was branded a madman, hunted down, and forced to haunt this time and place, unable to bring about the change he so desperately wanted. Moreso than almost any other plot this season, it’s a thought-provoking story that Diana Gabaldon included, and the writers adapted. Plus, the post-credits visual of him in his present watching the two white boys play Cowboys and Indians was wrenching, and one of the series’ best of these little moments.

Lord John Grey: Poor Lord John puts up with a lot this season, mostly in the form of the daughter of the man he loves blackmailing him into marrying her, lest she out him to everyone. But this is the man who maintained affection for Jamie even after being friendzoned, who has proven over and over that he will put his own desires behind those of a child in need of a father, or a pregnant woman who will be dishonored without a husband. LJG is good people.

William: What a fierce, pouty li’l jerk. It’s too bad that we weren’t treated to the narrative weirdness of William’s half-sister Brianna becoming his stepmother, but perhaps he’ll reappear in future seasons.

Lesley: To be honest, I had barely registered him before he got his throat slit by Bonnet, but nobody deserves a death like that. RIP.

Frank: FRANK. His one cameo this season, in a number of revelatory and gutting flashbacks, was the perfect way to bring him back—especially since we see him through Brianna’s eyes, after years of him refracted through Claire’s perspective. But even Brianna doesn’t realize how many complicated feelings it layers on top of Frank’s motivations to know that he had the obituary the whole time and never let on to Claire that he knew about her supposed death. Not that I blame him, considering how she treated returning to their marriage as a consolation prize, but still.

George Washington: Presumably, but we only got a few scenes with him. I’m looking forward to (hopefully) more of the would-be President next season.

Rollo: Very Good Boy. Very glad he made it through the season and will accompany Young Ian on this new adventure.

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craft-rose · 7 years

Text

anomaly (pt. 5)

Title: anomaly

Pairing: Reader + Jungkook

Rated: M

Type: Covenant!AU

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

You struggled to keep your eyelids open as you entered the kitchen the next morning, the ugliest, most gnawing hangover pulsing harshly inside the depths of your skull.

“Someone had a fun night,” Erin, your roommate, chuckled, sitting at the table with a glass of orange juice and the tallest stack of pancakes imaginable. “I made breakfast. Your boyfriend can have some as long as he washes the dishes.”

Swiping a drinking glass from the dish rack, ibuprofen at the ready, you muffled a yawn with the back of your hand and spoke. “We both know I haven’t had a boyfriend since the first grade.”

“Well, I thought you would get mad if I called him a hook-up …”

“What are you talking about?” You asked her indistinctly, having placed the pill on your tongue, swallowing it with a mouthful of water a moment later.

Erin fixed an obvious look on you. “Oh, come on, Y/N. You’re really going to deny hooking up with that guy in your Psych class? We all saw you leave the club together.”

Your lip twitched and you quickly remembered, having somehow convinced yourself that you’d just had a very vivid, intensely fucked up nightmare. Because, really, how could any part of what you remembered, have actually happened?

“I must have had more tequila than I thought,” You uttered out loud, to yourself.

Raising an eyebrow at you, Erin set her phone down. “Y/N, it’s perfectly normally to hook up. If he’s still here, just tell him to come out. We’re all adults. It’s really not a big deal.”

You whipped a look at her, suddenly remembering she was there. “Wh-what? No, he … he didn’t … we didn’t …” It all came rushing back. The image of his body as it lay crumpled on the floor. You scrunched your eyelids closed, trying to erase the image.

“Are you feeling okay?” Erin asked, concerned. “I’m going to yoga in a bit. Why don’t you come with me? It’ll be good for you.”

“No, that’s okay. I’m fine,” You said, convincing no one including yourself. “I-I just remembered I told my aunt I would open the café today.”

“I thought you were taking a break from work?”

“I am — was. I just — she’s busy with the newborn and all, so I told her I’d cut my break short.”

“I can help, too, if you’re short on people,” Erin kindly offered.

“No, no, that’s fine. You go to yoga. I’ll see you tonight,” You blurted, ducking out of the kitchen before she could question you further. You loved Erin to pieces, but her bullshit detector was-off-the-charts accurate, and you hated lying to her, even if it was for her own good.

Chest falling rapidly, Jungkook took a break from dance practice while the others carried on. He normally had more than enough energy to keep up, but after that night he had he woke up feeling borderline delirious.

“Oh, by the way, guys, Seokjin and I are going to check out third street tonight to see what all of that trouble was about. If any of the managers come to the house looking for us, tell them we’re hanging out with friends,” Namjoon said to the members in his leader voice.

“Can I come?” Taehyung asked, his eyes lighting up with hope. “I haven’t used in weeks. I’ll be on my best behaviour, I promise!”

Seokjin stepped forward, placing his hand on Jimin’s shoulder. “I know you’ve been feeling stir-crazy in that house — I know you all have — but it’s best that Namjoon and I handle this alone.”

“He’s right,” the leader added. “We can’t risk being seen.”

“We could always cloak ourselves,” Jimin suggested.

Namjoon scrunched his mouth with uncertainty. “No, it’s still too dangerous. Until we can verify what happened last night, you guys should stay home where it’s safe.”

Jungkook lifted his head at the sound of that, having tuned most of the conversation out until that point. “What are you guys talking about? What happened last night?”

“You didn’t hear?” Hoseok asked. “Someone was attacked on third street. Some girl.”

Throat swiftly hitching, Jungkook uttered the only word which came to mind. “Wh-who?”

“Not sure,” Namjoon said. “Out of respect for her family, the news outlets are keeping quiet for now. All we know for sure is that she was a university student and that her body was found out in the middle of the sidewalk. Signs of asphyxiation and … a slow end.”

Seokjin nodded. “Oddly enough, though, there was no surveillance of the incident. The cameras had apparently captured nothing, which is exactly why Namjoon and I are going to investigate. I would bet all the money in my bank account that it was one of them.”

“You think a Hunter attacked that girl?” Taehyung gulped.

“Could be,” the oldest member furthered, rather drained in the face. “We should all travel in pairs and groups just in case. No going around alone.”

Namjoon readily nodded. “That’s right. You see or hear anything suspicious — anything at all — you come to us. Do not investigate it by yourself.”

With that, the leader went ahead and turned the music back on. In a matter of seconds, the others found their starting positions in the new choreography, preparing for their latest comeback while the youngest member kept to himself. Sitting alone, thinking, worrying.

Yoongi bounced a look at Jungkook from the other side of the practice room, a knowing glimmer in his quick, calculated gaze.

He approached the maknae, twisting the cap off of his water bottle as to not alert the others.

Jungkook glanced up.

“It wasn’t her,” Yoongi said to him, in a low voice. “The girl that was attacked. She was someone else.”

“How do you know?” Jungkook asked, his throat suddenly clogged with unease.

“I just do.”

“Have you seen her?”

“No.”

“Then how do you know for sure?” the youngest repeated. “Wh-what if you’re wrong?”

Yoongi pressed his lips into a frown. “Will you just trust me on this? She’s fine. Your girlfriend is fine, so don’t go looking for her again. You’ll only get yourself hurt.”

“She’s not my girl —”

“It doesn’t matter,” the rapper interjected. “Just stay away from her.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “What’s your problem?”

“I’m just trying to look out for you.”

“What does she have to do with that?”

“She has everything to do with that,” Yoongi hastened. “You can’t go sneaking out to see her, not while there’s a Hunter on the loose.”

Jungkook opened his mouth to fire back, but the older boy walked off before he could say a word more. In the back of his mind, he knew that Yoongi was right. He knew Y/N was trouble. But he couldn’t just stand back and do nothing. Not while that Cameron guy was still out there.

If I had just finished him off last night, none of this would have happened. That university student would probably still be alive.

Swallowing the overwhelming waves of guilt, Jungkook gradually rose to his feet and joined the others, deciding in his mind that he wouldn’t just stand back.

He had to do something.

He had to fix this.

You approached the café to find that there were hundreds of people outside, all of them crowded around the sidewalk and the street, the latter of which was blocked off from both sides.

“What’s going on out there?” You asked, opening the door to the café and looking to your aunt as she bobbed her head out from the back room.

“Oh, good. You’re here,” she said, coming out in her work apron. “We’re closing down for today. I just got off the phone with the babysitter to tell her she can go home. There was apparently an attack right outside of the café last night. The police are going around interviewing everyone in the area. They sat with me for a solid hour asking where I was last night and if I noticed anything strange.”

The skin of your neck grew hot. “An attack?”

Suddenly pale in the face, your aunt nodded. “There was a young girl … a student … they found her this morning … her body, I mean …”

You swallowed. “How did she …?”

“Asphyxiation, they said. I can’t imagine what her family must be going through. Apparently she was your age and a student at your school. Same height, same hair colour, same eye colour. I was sick with worry when I heard the description on the news.”

Gradually tuning your aunt out, you slumped down onto one of the chairs and thought hard about that one word. Asphyxiation. The second you closed your eyes, you felt it all over again. Strong hands around your neck, cutting your oxygen off right there in the dimness of the café, just a few hours before the sun had risen that same day.

You had rushed to the café that morning with full intent to tell your aunt what had happened, that you had brought a guy there the previous night and that he had attacked you, leading you to act in self-defence. But the moment you opened your eyes to check, you found no signs of what had happened there.

There was no blood.

There were no signs of destruction.

Nothing at all to indicate that anything had happened.

Nothing except for the crowd outside.

You had two options.

Go to the police. Tell them I know who did it. Tell them I was with him last night and that he tried to strangle me the way he did that girl, and that he failed, and that I left him here thinking that I had killed him in self-defence, and that there’s no proof of any of that happening.

Only my word.

Or, keep quiet and go to the only other person who knows what happened, and who can maybe — hopefully — corroborate my story when I go to the police.

You rose from the table, looking to your aunt as she slung her purse over one shoulder. “Maybe we should stay closed for a couple of more days. Let them investigate. I doubt anyone will want to come to this area so soon after what happened.”

“That’s what I was thinking, as well,” Your aunt nodded. “I’ve been meaning to take time off and be with the baby, take her to visit my friend on the island. I just … the situation …”

“Don’t worry about that. Going to the island sounds like a great idea. Give me a call when you’re back and we’ll schedule something,” You said to her, trying to hide the burst of relief that rippled through your tightly clenched stomach.

It’s better that she and the baby go out of town for a couple of days. Safer.

Later That Night

The houses in the neighbourhood were the biggest that you had ever seen up close. You couldn’t imagine how much they were worth. In fact you could barely bring yourself to walk past them, a certain tightness in your chest at the chance of being seen. You weren’t breaking any rules. There were no gates, nothing to block the neighbourhood off from the outside world.

Regardless, you couldn’t shake the feeling that you were in way over your head, and that you should have just gone to the police by yourself. You had watched enough crime documentaries to know that the longer you waited to go to the police, the more suspicious you were going to look when you finally did go to them.

Speeding up the pace, the soles of your runners scratched against the pavement as you made your way to the house at the end of the street. The same house you had left in such a hurry not one day ago. It wasn’t the largest house in the area but it was definitely the newest, and the residents were probably wide awake at this hour, though you hoped for the opposite.

You only needed to speak with one of them.

The second you tugged your hood on and crossed the empty street, hurrying towards the house in question, you felt your phone vibrate. Glancing down at it thinking your roommate had contacted you to confirm that she had arrived at her parents’ house, you stopped dead in your tracks, heart pounding in the shells of your ears as you found a text message from a number you didn’t recognize.

Unknown Sender: How about that game of hide and seek? You hide. I’ll seek. Ten, nine, eight …

You whipped a look over your shoulder, darting your eyes in every which direction, tripping over your feet and falling into a panic, until finally, you saw someone in the distance.

Only, he wasn’t the someone you were expecting.

He was standing in the driveway of the house, leaning against the hood of one of the cars, a calm yet calculated look in his eyes as he fixed them squarely on you, unsurprised to find you there.

Without saying a word he slowly leaned off of the car, dressed head to toe in black, straightening his posture as he approached you in the dark of night.

You knew you had never seen him in person before, but for some reason, you felt you had. There was something about the look in his eyes that felt familiar. Had you not known better, you’d have thought he had looked at you that way before, only not outside like this, and not while your heart was about to pound out of your chest.

There was only one member of BTS who made you feel that way, and it wasn’t Suga.

Leaving only a foot of distance between the two of you, he was close enough now that you could see his face very clearly, specifically the rigidity with which he was looking at you.

“I know who you are and I know why you’re here,” he said.

You felt your breath catch. “I — it — Jungkook —”

“He can’t help you anymore. You should go home. It’s not safe out here.”

“I-I can’t,” You uttered. “It’s not safe there, either.”

“What do you mean?”

Without any idea as to what else you could have done in that moment to convince him, you gave him your phone, providing him with access to the most recent text message.

There was a dash of suspicion in the rapper’s eyes as he tentatively grabbed hold of your phone, glancing down at the words on the screen. Slowly, the rigidity in his face gave away.

“I think it’s from him,” You explained, nervously. “The person who attacked that girl last night. It’s complicated but … I know him … and your friend, Jungkook, he saved me from getting hurt. He told me that guy was dangerous and that he was going to harm me. I-I owe him my life.” The pounding in your chest had eventually slowed to a calmer, softer rhythm. “Listen, I-I’m sorry for bringing all of this trouble onto your doorstep but … I have to know if this is real. I have to know that I’m not just crazy.”

For a split second he just looked at you, absorbing your words, the desperation in them.

There was no doubt in your mind that you sounded crazy, and after running across the city in the middle of the night, there was no doubt in your mind that you probably looked a crazy mess, too. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath, hoping that he would give you a chance.

Even just for a night.

Truthfully, you were terrified out of your mind. You had somehow convinced your aunt and your roommate to leave town for a while, fearing for their safety. But where did that leave you?

You had no place to run, no place to hide, no place to go other than right there.

Slowly opening your eyes again, you were surprised to find Suga standing at the front door of the house, grabbing the keys out of his pocket and sliding them in before glancing back at you. “Just for tonight,” he said, waving you inside.

One Hour Later

Somehow, the house felt different that night. Calmer, quieter, warmer. The other boys were either asleep or out, leaving just you and Suga, or did he prefer Yoongi? You weren’t sure what to make of him either way. He didn’t seem to like you very much, though you couldn’t quite blame him.

To your relief he had left you to your own devices, having led you into the guest room where you were to sleep for that night.

You drifted to the window — which for some reason had been left open an inch — and you kept watch for any signs of danger

You knew you were safe there, but you couldn’t escape the feeling that danger would find you.

Maybe in the shape of Cam or maybe in the shape of someone — something — else. There was no telling what the possibilities were nor how far they stretched.

Slowly, the skies began to rain down, pouring against the pavement and the rooftop of the house. You traced your fingertips along the window, following the narrow streams of rain water as they slid down the glass. It was only the rain began to settle, reducing to a light sprinkle, that you saw something — someone — outside.

For the briefest, most terrifying second of your life, you thought that he had found you, that your time was up.

But it wasn’t him.

It wasn’t Cameron.

You blinked, stepping closer to the window to find a tall, dark-haired young man sneaking up to the house, expertly keeping to the shadows as if he had done so hundreds of times. With one look at his speed and stature — and his everything really — you felt your chest squeeze.

He dashed across the driveway, weaving between the cars that were parked there, and he ran straight towards you, towards the window leading into the guest room.

You rocked backwards, taking step after step away from the window, your back pressing against the opposite wall. As you did this, he opened the window from the outside, and in less time than you were able to count, he climbed through it, his clothes drenched and his chest falling as he closed the window and turned around, meeting eyes with you in the dark.

“Y-you,” Jungkook uttered with disbelief, his bangs falling over his eyes in wet, jagged strands.

“I-I can explain,” You said, knowing how bad it must have looked. “There was this girl who was attacked outside of my aunt’s café last night, probably hours after you found me, and I know I said those awful things to you before, but I … I was wrong and I have nowhere else to go right now and … your friend, Yoongi, he said I could stay here for tonight, so I just … I thought I … I …”

Without uttering a word of response. Jungkook came forward and examined you using only his eyes, his gaze heavy and full of relief. “I take it you’re okay?” he asked.

You quickly nodded. “I’m fine. A little shaken up, but fine.”

“I went out there looking for you,” he said.

Ignoring the sensation in your stomach, you folded your arms at him. “You do realize your friend thinks you’re upstairs sleeping safely in your bedroom right now, don’t you?”

“Of course. How do you think I managed to sneak out?”

“It’s dangerous out there,” You found yourself reiterating.

He bounced a look at you, snorting. “That’s a strange way of saying thanks.”

“You shouldn’t have snuck out.”

“I snuck out for you,” he repeated, as if it should have meant something. “By the way, you live in a really shitty building. The locks are about as useful as a sign asking people to keep out or else.”

Your eyebrows shot up into your hairline. “Hold on a second. Y-you broke into my apartment?”

Jungkook unzipped his jacket, tossing it off to the side. “No, but I could have.”

“That is so beyond —”

“Listen,” he interjected, facing you. “We can go back and forth for hours or we can just agree that this is a shitty situation for everyone involved. I know you didn’t ask for any of this and believe me when I say neither did I, but in order for this to work, in order for me to actually help you, I’m going to need you to just trust me …”

Your lips twitched apart for a second, but you didn't say anything.

In all honesty, you did trust him. And when he climbed through that window you felt an ounce of relief in your chest, knowing that he was safe. But you couldn’t tell him that, could you? Regardless of everything, he was still a stranger to you, and you were a stranger to him.

Whatever it was that you felt, it wasn’t anything serious.

It can’t have been.

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