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fangirlovestuff · 3 years

Text

Everytime - Chris Evans x reader

a/n - hey lovely people!! this is based on this request, thank you so much nonnie!! honestly i didn’t know this song before and it’s a bop. it kinda spiralled a little more than the song, but i hope you’ll like it!! also, tysm Ev @evansphnx12 for helping me with the ending, you’re a sweetheart!! okay, no more rambles, enjoy<3

Summary: you and chris didn’t want the same things, or at least you didn’t think so. it was pointless to pretend like you did, you’d only end up getting hurt; but the second your eyes meet you want nothing except for each other, and god knows that’s a pull you can’t resist.

Word Count: 4.1k

Warnings: mentions of sex but nothing graphic, alcohol consumption (everyone’s the proper age), a little bit of angst

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

"Hello?" you answer the phone curiously. The number isn't one you recognize, not saved on your phone, and you furrow your brows trying to understand who could it be, except maybe a spam call.

"Hey," answers a deep voice from the other side of the phone, "it's Chris, I don't know if you remember, you gave me your number a while ago and-"

"Oh yeah, I remember," you said, "hi!" you smiled even though you know he can't see you. "How are you?"

You both went through the normal pleasantries, but your mind wasn't really in it, running a mile a minute because god, did you remember Chris.

You two met a while back at a bar. You were out with your friends, and you noticed him from the corner of your eye, his friend group smaller than yours but large nonetheless. He was pretty far from where you were seated, but he looked so good you couldn't resist sneaking some more looks at him throughout the night.

Okay, maybe you were staring. Just a little.

And he must've noticed too, because the next time you lifted your eyes he wasn't in his previous seat, and you were about to sigh and assume he went home before you heard a voice greeting you to your right. You jumped a little in surprise before turning your head, only to look up and find his blue eyes staring back into yours, a slight smirk playing on his lips, and shit, he was so handsome it was unfair.

"Can I buy you a drink?"

Even his voice was attractive. You contained your scoff of disbelief.

Long story short, one drink turned into a few more, that turned into going back to his house and having what was maybe the absolute best sex of your life, because you were both pretty drunk, but it was definitely up there.

You vaguely remember giving him your number, but you still left early the next morning, because that's what you thought he wanted, thinking the whole number thing was probably more of a courtesy than anything.

Apparently, it wasn't.

"So, I'm gonna be back in town next week," he mentioned casually, "and I was wondering if maybe… you'd wanna meet up? Grab a coffee or something?"

"Sure," you said, your brain catching up with your mouth a short moment afterward, and shit, why did you just say that? Doesn't that make you seem desperate? And besides, wasn't the whole thing supposed to be a one-night type of deal?

This was a bad idea. You knew that, but there was a small part of you that didn't care; small but definitely not insignificant.

"Great!" he chuckled on the other side of the phone. "So I'll text you sometime?"

"Yeah," you said, ending the call on an agreement to meet up Friday when he'd be in town.

So, in five days. That's enough time for your heart to stop pounding this loudly in your chest and the butterflies to stop fluttering around in your stomach, right?

Shit.

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

You kept busy the entire week, not giving yourself enough to mull over the plans you had, until it was finally Friday morning, and you woke up to a text from Chris, asking if you were still on for tonight and if you wanted him to come pick him up.

You thanked him and took him up on his offer, before plopping back first onto your bed. You put it off far enough, but now you could feel yourself inevitably freaking out.

The thing was, you really didn't know what to expect, the uncertainty that had been gnawing at the back of your mind for a week now finally taking the spotlight. You thought you'd never see him again, but that clearly wasn't the case.

Well, you'd see soon enough, you gathered, as you distracted yourself for another few hours until it was time to get ready. Chris didn't exactly tell you where you were going, but you two had mentioned a coffee, and even if it wasn't that, you imagined he wouldn't take you anywhere too fancy, so you put on something casual elegant.

I'm sorry, that last bit was kind of misleading, wasn't it? Really, you thought about what to wear for a good 30 minutes, decided on casual elegant and then took another good hour to pull out an obscene amount of clothes from your closet, proceeding to try on different outfits until you finally settled on one.

The advantage of your indecision was that it was very time consuming, leaving you very little time to get everything else you needed in order, thus less time to spiral.

When Chris texted you to come outside, all you could do was take a deep breath and go. After you greeted each other, the music filled the silence between you, not uncomfortably. Without noticing, you started humming the song beneath your breath, and before long you were both singing along, and you could feel the tension seeping out of your shoulders. Once the song ended, you took a deep breath and looked over to see Chris already looking at you. You smiled at him, and he returned it.

"Chris, I gotta, um," you swallowed, "ask you something."

"Sure, what is it?"

"Well, I'm just… is this a date? Not that I'm trying to, I don’t know… look, I just want us to be on the same page, I guess, it doesn't have to be a date, I was just, like, wondering."

Real smooth.

"It's fine," Chris chuckled a little, and you kept your eyes trained on the dash before you so you wouldn't have to meet his. "I guess… I don't really know either? We could just… see how it goes?"

"Yeah, alright," you smiled a little, "sounds great. Speaking of going, where are you taking me? Cause, you know, if you're a serial killer that's taking me out in the woods to kill me, I'd rather know now than later."

"I'm not a serial killer, and it's a surprise," he grinned.

"That's exactly what a serial killer would say," you said, playfully narrowing your eyes at him.

He let out a laugh. "Okay, okay, it's a club not far from here. It's a new one, I haven't been there myself yet, so I’d figured we'd check it out?"

"Sure," you grinned at him. The rest of the short drive went by in a flash, and when you got there, Chris darted out of the car to open your door for you.

"Thank you," you giggled.

"After you," he gestured, and you led your way into the club.

Inside, you took in the atmosphere, which was pretty relaxed since it was still early. You and Chris ate a little, engaging in conversation, and before long your drinks arrived. You were about to bring yours to your lips when Chris reached out and stopped you. You looked at him quizzically.

"We have to toast first," he shrugged with a smirk.

"Okay. So, what are we toasting for?"

"To new beginnings," he raised his glass in suggestion.

"To new beginnings," you repeated softly, clinking your glass with his before taking a sip from your drink.

When things picked up a little, you both got to the dance floor. In no time you found your rhythm, dancing together as if it wasn't the first time. The songs were jumpy, upbeat, and you found yourself beaming when Chris spun you around before pulling you back in.

You danced like that for a while, before you both got thirsty, heading to the bar for another drink.

"You wanna get outta here soon?" he asked, raising his voice to make sure you heard him over the loud music.

"Let's go," you said, grabbing his hand and practically dragging him to the exit. You heard his laugh behind you, and you smiled.

"Sorry," you said once you were outside, "the music was getting a little too loud for me," you shrugged.

"Yeah, it kinda was," he agreed with a soft smile. "So, where to next?"

You checked the time on your phone. "I mean, we could go back to my place if you want a coffee, since I doubt anywhere else is open right now."

"Great!" he smiled, and then his eyebrows furrowed a little, "But I guess neither of us should drive, right? I mean, I probably could, I just…"

"Yeah, you're right," you nodded.

"My place is closer to here, actually," he said, "If you want, we could walk there?"

"Alright," you smiled.

You two started walking side by side, silently at first. "What about your car?" you asked.

"I'll come by and get it tomorrow," he shrugged. "I need to get gas anyway. I'm driving upstate again in a couple of days."

"Can't you fly?"

"Not since the last time I checked, when I was four and nearly broke my arm jumping from a tree," he smiled teasingly.

"Ha ha," you rolled your eyes, a smile spreading on your face despite your efforts to stop it. "I mean, wouldn't it be easier if you took a plane instead of driving?"

"Maybe, but I don't like flying that much. It's exhausting."

You simply hummed in reply.

Before long, you were at Chris' house. Again, your mind unhelpfully supplied, vividly reminding you of the last time you were here, which was-

"So, do you want that coffee?" Chris asked when he showed you in, thankfully breaking your train of thought before you could get too zoned out.

"Um yeah, that sounds wonderful," you smiled at him. As you waited on his couch while he went to get the coffee, your eyes wandered around the large room. You didn't really get much of a look at his house before since you were… occupied with other things, but it was really nice, modestly decorated.

As you were looking around, you heard a soft patter of footsteps come up behind you, and you turned around to see Chris concentrating on the two mugs in his hand, trying not to spill anything, his tongue darting out in concentration a little. It made you giggle a little, making him look up at the sudden sound.

"What?" he asked, putting the mugs down carefully.

"Nothing," you smiled.

He eyed you suspiciously before apparently deciding to drop it, since all he did was sit down and pat the space next to him for you to sit in.

You two decided to watch a movie, but honestly, to each of you the other one was way more interesting than the movie.

Your second night with Chris ended up pretty much the same as the first one, with amazing sex and a good night's sleep. And then, slipping away the next morning.

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

"I just, ugh," you plopped back down on your bed, talking to your friend on the phone, "I don't know."

"Listen, it's only been a few days, and he told you he was going away, I'm sure he'll talk to you soon. Or not," your friend said from the other side of the phone.

"That's comforting," you snorted, flipping onto your stomach.

"Hey, you said it yourself, right? You don't know what you two are. If it was just a hookup, he probably won't call." You opened your mouth to reply, but as if she could sense it, your friend continued before you could. "I'm not being mean, I'm being honest. You don't deserve to get your heart broken."

"I know," you sighed. "Thank you," you said sincerely, "talk to you later."

In the months that followed you saw Chris a few more times, each of them ending in pretty much the same way. Some were at your house, and he was gone in the morning, which in a way confirmed you were… what, friends with benefits? In a casual relationship?

You knew you shouldn't obsess about putting a label to it, because it doesn't really matter, except it did matter to you and you'd really like to know.

But you never brought it up. You liked what you had. It was fun. Really fun.

And every time you would be with him, most of your logical thinking skills would fly out of the window, so there's that. You liked to rationalize you didn't bring it up because you were consciously deciding not to jeopardize what you have, but really, it just doesn't cross your mind when you're with him.

It's weird, because when you're with him, you're incredibly calm, happy really, but when you're not, he makes you so nervous you feel like running to get the fidgety energy out. And running sucks.

Now, you were sitting at your friend's kitchen table as she made herself a coffee.

"Hey," your friend said, her voice laced with strictness and affection, "are you listening to me?"

"Yeah," you nodded, shaking yourself from your reverie.

"Really? Or are you thinking about Chris again?"

"What? No, I was just thinking about-" you started denying it, before your friend simply arched her brow at you, making you sigh. "-Chris. God, am I really that obvious?"

"Yes," she said matter-of-factly before sipping her coffee.

"Sorry," you offered half-heartedly, "I know I'm being annoying, I just… I like him. And I don't know what we are and it's driving me up the wall."

"Hold on, did you just say you liked him?" she looked at you incredulously.

"Yes," you said, although it came out more as a question than a statement.

"Oh honey," she said, sitting down in the chair next to you.

"I know, I know," you sighed looking at the table instead of her, "I shouldn't. But I do," you looked up at her. "That's why I'm… scared," the admission fell past your lips, the last word merely a whisper.

Your friend wrapped her arm around you in comfort, knowing you still needed to talk about it.

"If I just knew what he wanted, this would all be easier, because then I could keep the same mindset. But I don't wanna be annoying and end up embarrassing myself."

"You know what I think about this. You don't deserve to get hurt," she replied, squeezing your shoulders.

"I know, I just really don't know what to do," you sighed.

"If I were you," she started, "I'd tell him I'm seeing someone else."

"What?" you frowned.

"Just my take on it. What's the worst thing that could happen? It's not like you can't break up if you're not together," she shrugged.

"Okay, I get it," you scoffed. "No need to rub it in."

Despite your cynicism, you couldn't help thinking maybe it wasn't such a bad idea after all. Also, it was kind of the only idea you had, so either that or leave things as they were. Not that you were really complaining, I mean, things were wonderful as they are, but the uncertainty was becoming unbearable.

Maybe confronting him about it will be good, whispers a voice of hope in your head.

Yeah, you thought, or maybe it'll bite me in the ass. And not in a fun way.

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

The next time Chris was in town, he called you on a Friday morning.

"Hey!" he said, and even across the phone you could hear he was excited. It made your heart swell with fondness, a feeling you quickly shook off because, well, you weren't exactly boyfriend and girlfriend, so the only feeling you should have is like, attraction. Right?

"Hey," you said, your voice soft.

"So, I'm in town this weekend, and I was thinking, do you wanna do something?"

"I guess," you said, a smile sneaking onto your face, "What'd you have in mind?"

"You'll see," he said, and you could practically hear his smirk, "Just bring an overnight bag."

An overnight b-

"Yeah, sure," you said, your mouth speaking before your brain caught up, and shit, that seems to happen entirely too often when you were talking to him.

"Great! So I'll see you tonight?"

"See you," you agreed, ending the call, not before he told you he'd pick you up at seven.

Well, now all you had to do was pack an overnight bag for somewhere without knowing where, which was just… splendid.

Stifling your groan of frustration, you got up to do just that.

Just like always, when Chris came to pick you up and you got into his car, a smile came onto your face, your previous frustration now replaced with near-giddiness. Focus, you told yourself, you should be telling him you're seeing someone else.

But you didn't, not yet obviously, since you just got into his car. That'd be an extremely weird way to start a conversation.

"Hi," you greeted instead, smiling at him.

"Hey," he grinned, barely waiting for you to get your seatbelt on before he started driving.

"So, where are we going that's got you so excited, you're willing to risk getting into a car accident?" you chuckled.

"It's a surprise, and I'm not risking anything," he rolled his eyes.

"Sure you aren't, mad max," you quipped, making him laugh. "And last time I checked, there's nowhere called 'a surprise'."

He chuckled. "C'mon, you'll see for yourself, we're almost there."

And indeed, a few minutes later he was slowing down and turning to a road that led into a forest.

"Okay, seriously Chris, where are we going?"

"Relax, we're not lost. I know exactly where we are."

"I was thinking more along the lines of 'huh, maybe you are a serial killer after all', but yeah, that's reassuring," you raised your brows at him.

"If I were a serial killer I would've killed you already," he rolled his eyes at your antics.

"That's exactly-"

"What a serial killer would say," he completed your sentence, huffing out a laugh, "I figured."

You giggled at that, relaxing into your seat. You weren't actually worried, but it was nice to know you haven’t been fucking a serial killer for the last few months.

Sooner rather than later Chris parked the car, meaning you arrived, but you didn't really see where exactly you are until you got out. Then, you saw a small clearing in the woods, with what seemed like the remains of a fire in the middle of it.

"Okay, so we ruled out the serial killer option," you called out to Chris, who was busy opening the trunk of the car, "The way I see it you're either gonna sacrifice me in a weird satanic ritual or this is a camping site."

"Well, I considered the first one but it just seemed like a lot of effort," he teased, "Yeah, this is a camping site."

"Awesome," you chuckled, getting your bag. "Do you need help with anything or…"

"Oh, no, just wait a second and I'll get it all out," he said, already lifting his bag out and what seemed like the bag of a tent.

You did as he said and waited by the remains of the campfire. And you know, maybe also ogling him a bit as he carried the bags over.

"So," he started when he put the bags down, "I think we should put up the camp first, before the sun completely sets and then we won't be able to see what we're doing."

"Sounds like a good idea," you smiled.

You two started putting up the tent, a task that was harder than you realized, the flexible poles getting disconnected while you were moving them through the fabric and poking you in the stomach one unfortunate time.

By the time the sun was setting, you were getting pretty sulky, and it didn't escape Chris' attention. "C'mon, now's the most satisfying part," he smiled.

Starting to put up the poles, the tent turned from a pile of fabric and plastic to a tall tent in a matter of minutes.

"Okay, this is the most satisfying part," you laughed a little when you saw the results of your handiwork.

While Chris was setting up the fire, you were rummaging through the food he brought, because you were getting snacky. Just when you found the marshmallows, Chris asked, "So when's the last time you built a tent? Besides right now, I mean."

"Ummm… I don't know. Probably when I was really little," you shrugged.

"I come out here pretty often when I can," he said, "It's nice". You turned to look at him, but he was still messing around with the wood.

"What've you been up to lately then?" he smiled when he was finally done lighting the fire, turning his gaze up to look at you.

Well, it's now or never.

"There's this guy that offered me to hang out sometime," you said as casually as you could, "Mike."

Mike? Really? That's the name you came up with?

You thought you saw Chris' jaw clench, but maybe it was just the lack of light playing tricks on you. When he said nothing you continued. "He's nice."

It was like his whole demeanor had changed in the span of seconds, from smiling and relaxed his muscles tensed, and his jaw was definitely clenched.

"Okay," was the only thing he said after a few moments.

The only thing disturbing the silence were the sounds of nature and the crackling fire. You had a beer with him, and still, silence.

"Is everything okay?" you asked. He just hummed in response, his mind clearly somewhere else.

"Earth to Chris?" you snapped your fingers in front of his face.

"I'm here," he chuckled. "So anyways, did you?"

"What?"

"Did you hang out with Mike?"

"Oh, that," you said, "would it have mattered if I did?" you took a swig of your beer.

"Yes," he said lowly.

"Yes?" you turned to look at him so quickly your neck nearly snapped. He was still looking ahead into the fire.

"I mean," he turned his eyes to you, "What about us?"

"Oh, suddenly now we're an 'us'?" you rolled your eyes, "that's wonderful, Chris. Really, it is. You’re barely here, and when you are, we fuck and you leave, and now this? Maybe I should hang out with Mike," you mumbled the last part.

"If that's how you feel," he said.

You were both quiet for the rest of the night, going to sleep in separate sleeping bags. It was cold, and all you wanted to do was crawl into Chris' bag with him to steal some warmth, but your pride wouldn't let you.

In the morning, you woke up to find the tent empty. You rubbed your eyes and went outside, squinting against the morning sun.

"Good morning," Chris greeted quietly. He was sitting next to where the fire was last night, now obviously reduced to lumps of coal, and if that didn't perfectly represent your mood, you didn't know what did.

"Morning," you replied curtly.

"You know, about yesterday, I-"

"No, I don't know," you burst out. "Or at least I didn’t know, and it drove me crazy, thinking about what the hell I was to you, what we… are we even a 'we'?" you shrugged helplessly. "But I guess now I know, so thanks for that one."

"I'm sorry," he said, coming closer to you.

"Yeah, whate-"

"I'm sorry you felt that way. I shouldn’t have left things so up in the air. I should've told you how much I liked you from the start, instead of doing… whatever it is we've been doing. I'm sorry you felt like I didn't want you, because I do," his eyes pierced into yours. "I'm sorry I didn't say that sooner."

"I- you like me?" you asked, eyes going wide.

"I do," he smiled timidly, scratching the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry I was being a bitch earlier," you mumbled.

"It's okay, it’s re-"

"Do you accept my apology?" you cut him off with a smile.

"Yeah, of course."

"Great."

You walked the last few steps between you, closing the distance and planting your lips on his.

Every other time you kissed Chris, there was a rush to it, an aroused urgency, the knowledge of what it would lead to. But now there was the sweet promise of something more. You didn't know exactly what that was, but it made your heart hum in joy and your belly do somersaults.

Later, you found out the promise was happiness.

You felt it when you finally went on your first official "date date" with Chris. You felt it when he kissed you goodnight and good morning and everything in between. You even felt it when he found out Mike wasn't real and he laughed, and honestly you laughed too, because it was pretty funny.

Really, you felt it every time you were with Chris. Which was convenient, since, as he told you on several occasions, he wasn't planning on letting you go any time soon.

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starkerdestroyedmylifee · 3 years

Text

Thief

Peter tries not to feel the weight of his backpack as he makes his way up from the lab. He really does. But, it’s heavy.

‘Well, of course it is.’

Peter curses himself, popping up each step and hoping- praying- he doesn’t bump into anyone on the way. It’s still heavy, though. Even with his super-strength; heavy, and metal, and not his, because he really, really shouldn’t have it.

At all.

When the day had begun, Peter’d played the part of ‘devastated mentee’ to a T. His eyes had been puffy, exiting his aunt May’s car, rubbing his runny nose on the cuff of his suit.

No, not his suit.

Some store-bought thrift that didn’t quite fit his shoulders. A black jacket with fabrics frayed at the base, and dress-pants not quite long enough. Pepper had offered paying to get something tailored, but Peter’d declined quickly. It didn’t feel right, taking money from Mr. Stark’s fortune, even beyond the grave. They hadn’t known each other well enough. Which is odd, considering he’s currently attending said man’s funeral.

Peter tries not to linger on the fact that he’s technically (Technically meaning actually) stealing from Mr. Stark, and instead makes his way through the crowded living room. The majority of guests seem to be winding down now, what with Tony’s eulogy all said and done. Only soft, meditated tones, and consoling hands on shoulders, and Ms. Pepper Potts- smiling politely, but dead on her feet- striking up some conversation about sewage. He meets her gaze, and the weight of his backpack is bone-breaking.

She doesn’t walk over to him, thankfully. Of course, he’s just another kid wrapped up in her late husband’s antics. The invitation sent their way had been courteous at best, but worded as something that was supposed to happen, despite being a bit inappropriate. Peter’s a stranger, after all. And, what happens when you invite strangers into your house?

They steal your stuff.

Still, Ms. Potts nods his way. Soft; disinterested. Her gaze quickly slides over him, onto another guest far more deserving of her attention. Despite this, Peter’s back goes rigid for the few seconds spent on him. He holds his breath- freezes- before letting it out in relief.

‘This is horrible.’ Peter thinks to himself. ‘I’m literally going to hell for this.’

It doesn’t matter at this point. Not with his mind fogged in an overwhelming cloud of grief, or his eyes still stinging from such a heavy cry, or his throat burning from yet another wave of anguish. ‘No,’ he decides, tapping his aunt’s shoulder. ‘It doesn’t even matter at this point.’

He feigns a stomach ache, by which May thinks he’s playing sick to escape the depressing atmosphere of his idol’s funeral, and drives him home before Happy can so much as woo her to stay at his place.

Up the stairs.

Through the hallway.

Into his bedroom.

He shuts the door. Crumbles to pieces. Because-. Because, he finally starts realizing what he’s just done.

‘Oh, god. Oh god, this is so much worse than I thought it would be. This is- This is literally the worst idea I’ve ever had. Stupid, stupid, stupid!’

Peter can’t help his hands from shaking as he lifts the metal helmet out of his bag. It’s cold against his skin, which only makes his mouth go dry. Mr. Stark used to wear this. He used to wear this, and it’d been cold. Heavy and cold.

“...I really fucked up.” He says out loud, which only seems to solidify it.

Well, he can’t take it back now. Not if Pepper ends up noticing that it is gone. A monument. A goddamn trophy of Mr. Stark’s. One of his earliest models, with the classic red spray and golden faceplate. Christ, if he’d wanted it so badly, why didn’t he just buy a replica?

Because it wasn’t the same.

It isn’t the same.

But, damn it all, it’s also not his.

Peter had just wanted something to remember Mr. Stark by, and-. God, that helmet had called to him like a siren.

‘Mr. Stark would want you to have it.’ His brain had supplied.

Which-.

Uh.

No.

No, he would not want a literal child hanging onto his legacy like a fucking baseball card, instead of in a museum, or some well-maintained pedestal, or in a safe to be preserved for the next thousand years. Tony had been over the top like that. He liked to think his work was worth something. It was meant to adore.

The thought of Peter one day throwing it on top of his dirty laundry made him want to cry.

“Oh, god. Oh- Oh, shit. Okay, Peter. This is-. Oh, shit.” He tosses Mr. Stark’s helmet on the bed, and really does almost cry. A High-Tec, revolutionary piece of hardware, worn by Earth’s savior had just been thrown on his rumpled bedsheets, and goddamn fucking shit Peter is definitely- definitely- about to have a panic attack. He throws his arms up.

“That’s it.” Peter rambles sharply. “I’m screwed. I am so screwed, because I-. Oh my god, is it chipped? Of course it’s fucking chipped, Peter. It-. It’s Tony’s. Of course. Oh my god, I’m going to jail.” He peeks out the window, half-expecting to see cop cars at the entrance of his apartment complex. “Why did I do this?”

That’s the big question. Up until this point, Mr. Stark had only ever been an idol. Then a mentor. Then a father figure.

And, then-.

Okay, no. Peter is not going there. He paces around his room, onto his walls, the ceiling, hanging off his fingertips before plopping back onto his bare feet. He sighs, cursing, before making his inevitable journey back to the helmet.

Picking it up, his senses note a slight rise in temperature. It’s still cold, obviously. His room is well-heated though, unlike the lifeless cellar they’d had it cooped up in just hours before. Which makes Peter feel a little better about things- he smiles, tilting it this way and that. ‘Ha! A real home.’- before noticing a patch of crumbs on the helmet’s jaw from when he’d eaten Cheetos on the bed, wiped his fingers against the sheets, and seamlessly forgotten to throw them in the wash.

Peter almost faints.

Luckily, they’re easily wiped away by some bed-side tissues (Peter tries not to remember what he uses said tissues for. He’s already mortified by his poor treatment of it.) He sits on the bed with a huff, settling Mr. Stark’s tech in his lap like a pet. Peter runs his fingers over it apologetically, but it doesn’t feel like enough. Nothing feels like enough. He sighs, lowering his head.

“I bet you think this is pretty funny, huh?” Peter supplies, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Well, it’s not… It’s a little funny, but only because I know you’d probably have some quippy one-liner set up for me.” He falls onto his back, bringing the helmet to rest against his chest. Breathing out through his nose, he raises the metal mask just above him, so he can stare up at it. His bedroom light catches the surface of gleaming red, and Peter feels like a dirty slob just touching this rare treasure.

“Something like…” He pauses, thinking for a moment. “‘Oh, Peter. Looks like you’re a head of the game…’ That was really bad.” He chews his lip. “‘Sorry, kid. I want you to fill my shoes. This is a little much.’ God, no. That doesn’t sound like Mr. Stark at all.” Peter turns onto his side, letting the helmet lay against his pillow. They stare intimately at each other. ‘They’ being Peter and a lifeless curve of metal. He pulls the mask a bit closer.

“‘Woah there, Spiderman. At least buy dinner before you take it to bed.’” Peter turns his face into his pillow, groaning pitifully.

“Why are helmet jokes so hard?” He pauses, mulling his complaint over. “Okay, that one wasn’t bad.” Like that, Peter angles his face to check on the helmet, and looks to see its reaction. Which creeps him out, of course. Alright, so maybe there are even more implications to stealing his idol’s helmet then the fact he stole it. Maybe it’s just bad to have an inanimate object symbolic of Mr. Stark around him.

‘No shit.’ Peter thinks to himself, drawing a hand down his face.

Still…

He places a finger along the metal mask’s faceplate; feels the cool of its surface, the crisp curve of each indent. It’s nice. Really, really nice. Which is exactly why he has to pull away and face the wall of his room.

‘Nope. No chance. Time out, Peter.’

He closes his eyes, counting back from one hundred. He does it seven times. Eight. It doesn’t matter. Peter turns around to face it again, and does exactly what he’d been doing before. His fingers map out the metal slabs, just imagining what it must’ve been like inside.

‘It probably smells like him.’ Peter’s brain coos.

‘What? Like booze, and sweat, and morning breath? Is that what you’re tempting me with?’

‘Yes.’

It doesn’t smell like Mr. Stark, for the record. It smells sterile and lifeless and unworn, like someone went and purged it of everything Tony. Which, Peter assures himself, is completely, totally fine. It doesn’t bother him a bit.

Not one bit.

Not when he slips a hand inside and feels the strange padding used to cradle Mr. Stark’s head. Or when he pulls it out, not devastated to find the man hadn’t shed any hair. Nope. Not even a little. Because that would be weird, and a little obsessive. A lot obsessive. It’s not like Peter could clone Mr. Stark if he had any kind of DNA. It’s not like Peter wants to.

He checks his alarm clock, the same one still ticking five years after the blip; 10:47.

Not crazy late. On the contrary, it’d be amazingly early for the hyper-active teen to turn in just yet. That’s what he tells himself as he reaches over his night stand, tugging the string of his lamp light. The room goes dark and Peter tries (Read: fails miserably) to fall asleep. Looking his crime in the face anymore than he already has to is punishment enough, at least for today.

He tries to ease his muscles, but they just won’t let up. There’s a weight in his bed that he’s not used to, and it sets all his human nerves on edge, even with his Spidey-senses dormant. Peter should put it in the closet, but he can’t bear the image of allowing it to collect dust. On the contrary, the thought leaves him choked and wanting a glass of water he doesn’t have the energy to grab. The idea of mistreating anything Tony Stark-related has the young vigilante in shambles.

Which is why he soon finds himself rotating around to face the helmet in his bed. Even through darkness, he can make out a sharp outline of lunar beams streaming in through the window. It’s soothing. It’s reprimanding. Peter sniffs, blinking away what feels like an ocean of tears.

“I’m sorry…?” He offers shyly. His tone breaks, shoulders bunched, brow pinched with a grimace only offset by the flush of his cheeks. ‘At least here,’ Peter thinks to himself, ‘I can get some kind of closure.’

Which is exactly what leads him to kiss the metal armor.

Soft, across where he’s sure Tony’s lips would be located. It’s quick. Innocent, really. If things weren’t so different in the 21st century, people might mistake it for a platonic peck. Because Tony- brave, wise Tony- was like a father to him, in the only way he understood a father could be. It’d been so tender, after all. With those sweet, thin fingers caressing, not pulling, and palms that cradled, not smooshed. Nothing demanding. Nothing sexual. Just a good ol’ fashion kiss, which lasts no more than a few seconds.

Peter promises himself it isn’t anything else. It’s a platonic kiss on the lips. Which is a thing. It is, but other people might make it out to be something more. Someone like MJ would probably cackle her ass off if she knew he’d given the mask a kiss, as short as it is.

The few that follow after are a bit longer.

By the time Peter finishes, he’s relaxed in the worst way possible. He feels groggy, worn at the lips, and shitty as all hell because that last kiss had definitely been excessive.

And, okay.

Peter has a massive crush on Mr. Stark.

It’s terribly obvious. And tragic as shit, since the man is dead. Despite reminding himself, he can’t help but cling onto that damn feeling of metal on chapped, teenage lips. He feels sleepy, and he suddenly doesn’t want to be. It feels immensely inappropriate falling asleep next to a helmet he smooched to pieces.

Like sleeping next to Tony in Peter’s perverse, miserable fantasies.

Where Ms. Potts is away on business, and Mr. Stark is oh-so alone, and oh-so desperate for some kind of bodily touch. Where Peter is his sexy young intern, who has the confidence to wear feminine lingerie under his work clothes, and doesn’t mind brushing hips. They could make hot, passionate love in the lab for all he cares, and Mr. Stark would call him Baby, and Peter would call him Daddy, and it would hardly be funny to say in the moment, though he might snort when thinking over it later.

Best of all, Tony likes Peter best in his fantasies.

Parker is his favorite.

It’s only ever fantasy, though. Peter knows better than to indulge it.

In a conflicting fit between putting the helmet away, or pulling a sheet over top, or entertaining the notion of sneaking it back in place before anyone notices it’s gone, Peter decides to give the mask his bed while he sleeps on the floor. He’d much rather give Mr. Stark his best than chance disrespecting the man’s memory in favor of comfort. He obviously can’t be trusted, getting too close to Tony-related objects.

Laying on his bedroom floor twiddling his thumbs, Peter can’t help but wonder: What has my life come to?

#Starker #Peter x Tony #Tony/Peter #Fic #I don't know anymore guys #I miiiiight continue this??#Or maybe I'll just leave the babe to suffer

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greenninjagal-blog · 3 years

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Deja Vecu

Hello, its been a while!! Please accept this release of the unpublished scene from Chapter Two of Deja Vu. Its basically 4k of Remus being gay for a stranger he keeps seeing die, and ain’t that a mood? :)

Summary: The Missing Scene in chapter 2 of Deja Vu, in which Remus agrees to help a stranger rob a casino.

Words: 4397

Read on Ao3 || Hero Worship Series || My General Writing Masterlist

At twenty-one years old, Remus finds out that robbing a casino is a lot less fun than Ocean’s Eleven led him to believe. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of security that went into protecting the chips and the cash on hand: following the path of the cash box from earlier, there’s two hired security guards framing the employee’s entrance, neither of whom like being touched nor can be persuaded to leave their posts together. There’s a card reader locking the door which despite looking like walnut wood, is actually steel with a clever paint job. And that’s just the first level.

“Predictable,” Dee says from where he had made himself comfortable on Remus’s bed with the complimentary note pad the hotel had supplied him. He had left his suit jacket on the desk to avoid the wrinkles but lounged on the foot of the bed without taking off his shoes. Remus had tossed himself down next to him, stretching out to gather all the pillows and built a throne for himself like he was eight instead of twenty-one.

Dee had watched him, back to wearing the face of the man who had approached him in the casino. Remus thinks he looks nice like that: hansom enough to please anyone who looked his way and charming enough to disarm anyone who might have seen him as out of place and forgettable enough that Remus couldn’t remember if they had gambled together previously.

“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Remus had pointed out. “I know what the real you looks like.”

Dee’s pen digs into the paper a little harder than necessary and Remus pretends he hadn’t noticed. The smile he receives is light and joking but it doesn’t meet his eyes at all. “I happened to like this appearance.”

Remus hums, “Lame. The scales are cool.” But he had let it drop in favor of twisting the purple casino chip between his fingers.

Dee taps his pen on the comforter in thought, his borrowed blue eyes distant as he mulled over Remus’s reports from futures that won’t happen. “What else did you notice?”

“Tessa isn’t your wife anymore, Danny.”

Dee snorts, which, by all means, should not be as graceful and elegant as he makes it seem. There’s a fluidity to the way he dips his head and scribbled on the pad of paper that makes him looks dignified. Or maybe that’s just the angle that Remus is looking at him with. A lock of his dark hair slips into his eyes and he brushes it back with two gloved fingers.

Remus falls back against the stack of pillows he had built around himself, breathing deeply and settling himself. The air smells like the lemon cleaner that the hotel staff had used to clean his room earlier when Remus had been out and about, but there’s hints of something else—something sweet and spicy with an undertone of wood.

--Dee blinks at the question, shifting so that he’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his palm. “I wonder,” He says, with eyes so bright and blue and innocent that Remus feels like he’s stuck in them, “if you mean the Cardamom scent from my aftershave.” And Remus’s heart beats just a little faster, a little harder, a little more.—

“When I ask what else you notice,” Dee says, drawing Remus back to the present, “I meant your other senses. You’ve told me about what you’ve seen. What about sounds? The smells? You said you experience this as a first-person thing, correct?”

Remus waves a hand. “Its both. I’m there in person but I’m also having an out of body experience, too.”

Dee squints. “Doesn’t that…get confusing? How can you interpret all the stimuli at once?”

“Stimuli! What, are you a scientist in your free time?” Remus mocks, but Dee’s shoulders tense at the insinuation.

“You don’t have to tell me.” He says, “I was just curious.” He’s not, though. Remus isn’t quite sure how he knows, but Dee’s curiosity is more than just a simple question. It feels like it’s more, like he’s gathering information and sorting it away for later, like he’s making decisions based on Remus’s answers that have nothing to do with the how they are going to get into a Vault protected by a six digit code that only three people have and then get back out with more money than they can physically carry.

“Shame,” Remus says, feeling the shift in the bed as Dee’s shoulders unwind. “If you were a scientist you could dissect me for all the goodies inside! Of course, you can do that without being a scientist, too, but it’s not as fun.”

“Are you speaking from personal experience?”

Remus flips the coin in the air and catches it with the same hand. It comes up heads. “Why, does that scare you?”

Dee watches him, the pen absently twirling in the air between them. Remus can feel the weight of his gaze like a physical thing, pressing on his chest and making him self conscious of exactly how many breathes he’s been taking. The cotton comforter has a square pattern on it that he hadn’t noticed before, but he can count only three squares between the two of them. For some reason that information feels important.

“No,” Dee says after another moment passes and the air simmers. “I supposed it concerns me.”

Remus swallows the urge to laugh at his face.

“You just seem to be a useful person,” Dee continues, defensively. “I would hate to see that usefulness be squandered.”

This time Remus does laugh and it’s a bumbling bubbling burst of noise in their quiet world. His lungs shake and his heart hurts, but he laughs and something about it makes Dee’s smile softly too. The air is light, but there’s an underlying tension there, lurking in the shadows and reminding Remus that for all the dashing good looks and the semi honest expressions, the man before him is a stranger wearing a borrowed face and absolutely no one would miss him if he disappeared.

He flips the coin again, watching it roll over itself too many times to count, bounce off his hand and then flop to a stop direction between the two of them. Dee pokes it with the butt of his pen, like he was expecting it to get up and walk away.

“To answer your question,” Remus says, breathing in deeply enough to smell his cardamom aftershave and wondering why no one else in his twenty-one years of living had thought to ask him. “Seeing the future does get confusing. But it’s whatever. It never causes anything worse than a nosebleed.”

Dee hums and scribbles something down on his notepad. If Remus sat up just slightly, he would be able to see it, but he finds he likes the mystery more. Was it notes to use against him? Or was it things to think about in the future? Or was it still the colossal list of numbers they weren’t even a fraction of the way through?

--They manage to draw the guard’s attention away with a faked emergency: Remus never put stock in his own acting skills so he stumbles and falls on another patron and lets his head crack against the corner of the a craps table just far enough away that the guards are drawn the few steps over to check on both of them. Remus doesn’t bother responding to any of their prompts until Dee with the face of Tim the dealer swipes his borrowed card and lets the door behind him close. They had radios from the same place where Dee had procured the keycard from, and Remus thinks he could fall asleep listening to Dee’s breaths.

“Left, right, or center?” Dee asks.

“Left,” Remus hums, watching the casino patrons around him. A woman in her thirties just won at a baccarat table and tried to kiss the dealer. “There’s a camera at around the corner, but it roves. Your future self said to wait five seconds then go.”

Remus waves down a waitress and orders a mojito while he waits. Dee gives soft laugh at the concept and Remus tries to calm his nerves.

“You’re so uptight,” He says softly, almost to the point where Remus can’t hear him over the chattering of other people. “Relax a little, Remus. It’s just my life.”

“The Elevator code is 7-1-3-2,” Remus tells him. “And you’re going to want change your pretty little face to someone of a higher ranking on the casino hierarchy unless you want Terry Benedict to know what we’re up to.”

Remus holds his breath as the elevator dings, and then as Dee repeats the code as he types it in, and then as the doors rumble closed. He twists the glass of his drink when it comes as he listens for the subtle clues on how far Dee is inside the belly of the beast. It takes him a moment to realize that Dee is humming softly, and his lips twist into a smile without his permission.

There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his mojito and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. She’s still going to lose so Remus finds himself more entertained by trying to extract the lime from his drink than from watching her pout yet again when the ball lands on the red 36.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t understand how he does it. He glances down at the piece of paper in his hand and reads off the six-digit combination that was next on their list.

“5-1-3-2-7-6,” Remus presses a hand to his earpiece, listening as closely as he can. His breath shortens with each second, crafting infinities out of each passing tick. He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like a guillotine that’s cut their mission off a hundred-some times before.

“Hey man you, okay?” The person with Dee asks, less out of curiosity and more out of suspicion.

“Yes sorry my finger slipped,” Dee says quickly and punches in the next number in ascending order out of blind hope that it might be the correct one but it isn’t and Remus knows it because that’s when the person next to Dee asks him to back away and demands to know who he is and Dee’s placating answers are never enough so he tries to shift but bullets are faster than he is and Remus rips out his ear piece right before the gun goes—

“Another bust,” Dee sighs, drawing a snake on the corner of his paper. “Somehow I feel like we could win more playing on the casino floor than doing this….” He trails, off eyes distant again, thinking more about money than about the number of deaths Remus has witnessed.

It seems strange, that Remus would care so much more about that then he does, but in a way that doesn’t surprise him. Its Death with a capital ‘D’ and in Remus’s twenty-one years of experience, the only people who feared death were those who were aware of how close it was. Remus was practically best friends with Death, with the taste of the asphalt on the highway, with the feeling of a free fall, with the awkward fit of a hotel bathtub. He’s familiar with the cold silver of fear, but it doesn’t make him any less afraid.

Dee knows he keeps dying, though. Dying alone, deep inside a labyrinth of a building and Remus wonders if he should stop this while he’s ahead. He knows once that half hour mark hits in the future there’s no more Dee to be waiting for, no pay out. Just the pain of seeing a swarm of S.W.A.T. officers covertly weave between the patrons and leave with a human sized black bag. But Remus still waits and watches, holding dutiful vigil over a fruitless endeavor and letting hope build just for it to shatter with reality.

“Why does this mean so much to you?” Remus asks, somewhere between the fifteenth and the hundred fiftieth casino themed wake procession. His eyes burn a little, and he tries to tell himself it’s just the brightness of lights.

“Money is everything,” Dee marks the next two number off his list on his notebook and talks without listening to his own words. Its not fair that he sounds so convinced it’s true, when his mouth moves like he’s practiced this in the mirror. “What about you? Why do you continue to watch?”

Remus sinks back on his pillows, holding on to that faint scent of wood and spice and the feeling in his gut that comes from every time Dee listens to his advice from the future, from every time Dee listens and adheres, from every times Dee just believes.

Remus wonders how so much trust could be from this stranger who’s known him for an hour or two, and yet Roman had never been able to just accept what he said without an argument. He sounds crazy when he talks about what will happen, but Dee just nods and lets his lips twitch into a smile when handing him a roll of toilet paper.

Remus rips off another length the cheap paper and folds its in half before shoving it on his face. There’s blood in his mustache, which is frustrating and tastes just as gross as all the other times he’s had blood dripping down his chin.

“Remus,” Dee says, without looking up from his notepad.

“Yes, dearest stranger taking up half my bed?” He inhales hard.

“This is a fourth, at most.”

“Tomayto-tomahto.”

Dee shoots him a look that he can just barely make out around the clomps of flimsy paper he’s holding to his face. He looks like he’s trying not to be amused. Which is funny! Because, well, Remus can’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t related to him was in his company long enough to find him amusing.

“Why are you doing this?” Dee asks. “Other than the money, which we agreed would be a fifty-fifty split, regardless of how much we manage to walk out of here with….but somehow I don’t see money being enough for you to watch me die over and over again. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped me from lunging for that cash box.”

Remus is twenty-one when he shrugs and says, “It’s something to do.”

Dee huffs another dazzling laugh and for a moment Remus thinks he can see a flash of sharpened teeth in that smile, fangs like a vampire come to life, but it’s too fast for him to be sure. “Ah, I see we’re both liars tonight. Ready for the next attempt?”

Remus wonders if it’s still lying when its technically the truth. He’s doing this because its time spent with this shapeshifting sham, this enlightening enigma, this confusing con artist who lies as easily as breathing. Remus has a hard time believing anything personal he says is true, and yet he finds himself eyeing the three squared spaces on the comforter again wondering if it would be too much to make it two, one, none.

For someone who trusts Remus to see the future seven billions times as they try to figure out the vault code, who follows every direction Remus gives without hesitation, who continues to act as if Death is not something that can happen to him, he is extraordinarily hard to trust in return. Words are meaningless because he flaunts them, and Remus grew up watching Roman practice lines enough to know when someone was acting. Dee probably isn’t even his real name.

But Remus…Remus hasn’t been seen the way that Dee sees him before. Isn’t that enough for him to want to spend as long as he can with this stranger? Regardless of the danger Dee is running straight into? Regardless of the slight thrill that he gets from the prospect that they might get away with this?

-- There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.

Remus sips his chocolate martini and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. He knows from all the other times he’s watched that she loses, although as he peaks over at the numbers she’s never far off. It must be that excitement of the near win that keeps her there.

“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t still understand how he does it.

“5-1-3-3-4-1.”

He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like the bells of victory when the code is right, holy shit. The Code was right. Dee’s breath catches in his throat, and Remus nearly drops his martini on the floor. His heart races in his chest with an emotion that he can’t quiet put a name too.

They did it.

They…won. Remus makes his way towards the doors where they were set to meet back up, and Dee continues a casual conversation with the armed guard about children as he fills both his briefcases with as much money as he can fit. By the breathless excitement in his voice, Remus can guess there’s more money in front of him than he expected to be able to get. He invites the guard over for family dinner next night because he’s an asshole and Remus finds that quality admirable.

He waves down a waitress to get a second drink, Dee’s celebratory drink, because as soon as he got past the doors they were home free-

“Hey! Hey! Stop him!” A voice yells in Dee’s ear and the shapeshifter curses.

“Remus!” He yells, “The executive is in the halls! He-!”

There’s a gunshot and a thud and Remus rips out his earpiece and screams loud enough to make all the nearest games freeze in their tracks—

“Let me guess,” Dee says, rolling over, “Another bust? The next numbers ar—”

“No,” Remus throws himself into a sitting position, and blindly grabbing for more toilet paper. The back of his throat is slick with a metallic taste and his head spins a bit when he tries to stand up. “No, Dee!”

“No?”

“Dee, we did it! That’s the code,” Remus says, pretending like his knees don’t buckle when the floor rolls under his feet. Dee is there in a moment, hands under his arms and holding him up completely. Its almost like a hug, Remus thinks distantly. He’s twenty-one and he can’t remember the last time someone hugged him even as a joke. His skin itches at the contact, blistering and burning at the warmth of someone else being so close to him. The cardamom scent is so strong, but Remus thinks he might be okay if that was the only thing he smelled for the rest of his life.

“Are you…okay?” Dee asks. “Why are you…?”

Remus uses the back of his hand to wipe away the stream of blood from his nose and inhales hard. “You died again. The executive you choose to impersonate is in the building and you run into him right before getting out with the cash.”

“Who was it? I can change into someone else.”

Remus shakes his head. “Oh no. I’ve got no clue, but if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s get someone’s attention.”

Dee grins, “You certainly got mine. What are you going to do?”

Remus slides his weight back and manages to stand on his own legs. Remus’s heart does a dance routine in his chest, moving like if it slows for even a second Dee will lunge forward and rip it from his body.

Remus tells him, “I’m going to go make a girl win at roulette so much they think she’s cheating. With a hundred thousand dollars on the line that should have their attentions, right?”

It’s not really a question. Remus knows from experience that the more games in a row that you win during a game involving so much luck, the more interest people start to take in it and you. He just needs to convince the girl to bet only where he tells her to, and then bet as much as she can.

He knows how to do it, too: simply walk up to her and offer her a free Barney if she bets on the square he tells her too. Once she wins, he tells her the next one, and maybe she puts a nickel down, or a quarter, just in case he’s wrong. When she wins again, he’ll tell her the next number, and she’ll put more on it. Then more. Then more. She doesn’t even need to believe that he can see the future. She just has to reap the rewards.

“Oh,” Dee says staring at him. “Oh.”

Remus isn’t sure what he’s looking at. He just knows that Dee’s eyes are as blue as the ocean and deeper than anything he’s ever drowned in. He’s looking at Remus again, like this is the first time he’s seeing him in this lighting, and when he smiles, his teeth are definitely sharper than before.

“I do believe,” Dee says, “we could make the best team of thieves there is out here.”

“You’re just now figuring that out?” Remus asks. “Come on. I didn’t listen to you die nine hundred times just for you to chicken out now.”

He grabs his jacket, and buttons it. With a swipe of his hands he’s hair sets back in the position before, like some type of magic act. If Dee’s the magician, Remus thinks he would be honored to be in the front row every time he performs.

“So, you’d be up to doing this again, correct?” Dee asks, with his hand on the doorknob.

“They won’t fall for the same trick twice,” Remus says, “And what makes you think that this is something I enjoy?”

“I didn’t ask if you enjoyed it. I asked if you’d do this again. Not here, but somewhere else.” Dee glances at him, side eyeing him in a way that makes the hair on the back of Remus’s neck stand on end. “You still owe me.”

“What?” Remus turns to face him, and if there’s a spark in his chest, a nudge of excitement, well who can blame him? People don’t usually want him to stay around.

Another step in the hall. “We made a deal, unless you’ve forgotten. You said that if I could figure out how you were cheating, you’d do one thing that I want you to do.”

Remus snorted and motioned between them, “What do you call this? What we’ve been doing for the past hour?”

“This?” The man gives him a shark-like smile, “You did this of your own volition!”

“I seem to recall you asking,” Remus challenges.

Dee shakes his head too innocently. “Not in this timeline.” He pulls out his pale-yellow handkerchief and offers it to him, “You still have blood on your face by the way.”

There’s something nice about the way that this man is looking at him, the way he’s still looking at him, like Remus is something more than a nuisance, more than a distraction, more than an unwanted, frustrating intrusion. It makes his knees weak and the back of his throat taste like blood again and he so desperately wants to look to the future but won’t let himself do it.

“What do you want?” Remus says, because the uncharacteristic fear in his chest is slowly turning all his organs to butterflies and he never goes back on a promise.

“Well, you did say anything I wanted right? Anything at all?”

Remus nods, rolling his finger over the snake design on the stolen poker chip. Suddenly there doesn’t seem to be enough air in the world, and he’s afraid if he inhales too deeply trying to get more, the whole reality will shatter.

Dee’s form shimmers, shivers, and dissolves into Tim the dealer as they wait for the elevator to take them back to the casino floor. It’s an entirely different person but when he looks at Remus all he can see is Dee’s expression.

“Well, Remus,” He says, “After we finish up here, I want you to come with me. Work with me a bit. Let me help you amass a bit of a fortune. Strictly professional, of course. I won’t ask about your past and you don’t ask about mine. We don’t even need to be friends! Just…”

Dee offers out a gloved hand to him. “Business partners?”

Remus is twenty-one and he thinks there might be a timeline out there where he says no, but he doesn’t even entertain that thought.

“Business Partners,” He says and shakes on it.

#Demus #sanders sides #janus sanders #remus sanders #deja vu au #robbing a casino for your mental health #Oceans eleven references because I love that movie #superpowers #Remus from before things get bad #tw: temporary death #Remus can see the future #Janus can shapeshift #Everything is GREAT :)

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tsuumu · 4 years

Note

saw that requests were open and😳😳 how ab fluffy best to lovers with iwaizumi or suga? like they are best friends and seem to always be touching each other in some way like hand on waist or knees touching etc. and confession happens and maybe... just maybe... kiss... if this doesnt fickle your pickle or you feel uncomfortable then feel free to ignore! your writing is great thank you for considering🥺🥺

hi anon, thank you so much for requesting! i’ve been doing requests when i feel like them (apparently 4:28am is the perfect time to start drafting this in my mind) so i apologise for how late it is!

i’ve also decided to split this into two parts, the first being sugawara and the second iwaizumi! i love rambling about cute conventional plotlines like this so there was no way both wouldn’t be excessively long put together.

part two will be linked here when i get round to it!

enjoy!

y’know, people actually do wonder if the two of you are somehow joined to one another in some bizarre manner. it’s practically impossible to see either of you away from the other for an extended period of time. and it’s not creepy, or weird. it’s ridiculously wholesome. they only enquire because both you and koushi take that classic ‘best friend’ trope to a whole other level.

it’s sweet. sickeningly so.

we’re talking after-school dates at the prettiest little cafe just off the side of the main road. it’s barely a ten minute walk, not that you’d notice seeing as the time is filled with consistent, care-free conversations between the two of you. koushi practically begs you to come with him whenever you’re free. you’ve both dubbed it your super secret spot, since other students don’t come so often or probably even know it’s there. his teammates ask him from time to time, where exactly the two of you go. it’s usually because you’re chortling amongst yourselves about some passage of prior conversation, or beaming unanimously over the sheer deliciousness of the pastries there, made fresh.

but koushi never tells. oh no. he wants it to be ‘our spot’ as he likes to call it. you think he’s just being funny and poke his arm whenever he mentions it, agreeing jokingly that he’s not allowed to take anybody else there but you.

you needn’t worry, he wouldn’t dream of it.

he’s always early when you do go, waiting for you by the school gates. and it’s crazy, the wave of comfort that washes over you the second you lay your eyes on the boy, it’s something you can’t experience with just anybody.

you have had your fears when it comes to finishing your third year, since your sights are set on finding employment deep in the heart of tokyo, koushi on the other hand, prefers the domesticity of the urban life. he’s perfectly at home where he stands. and you love that for him, you want him to be happy, truly, but the thought of having to bid the boy farewell seems incomprehensible. like you’ve offended yourself for even contemplating the prospect.

no, you’ve never actually brought up the subject with him. it’s a little early and all too much to say out loud. plus, what if you do and he’s completely nonchalant about it? you’re practically dreading the months as they pass, wondering if sheer luck will allow your friendship to continue with such potency whilst he’s totally oblivious and dismissive when you do get round to it! oh, god. you hate it. you hate that you’re overthinking the entire thing.

you know you’re short circuiting over something so pointless, trains exist, you’ll have the funds and means of transportation... but is it? losing someone who fills your day up is like losing part of yourself. you can already imagine what it’d be like alone, going to other bistros and constantly comparing them to that one. and how lonely you’ll be. how desperate to tell him everything that happens to you. how work goes, if you’re feeling homesick. you know he’ll call you often because he cares too much not to, which you’re thankful for, but it’s not the same. he won’t be here, he won’t be there to touch you like he does now, to keep you safe.

a gulp later and you’re totally fixated on the warmth koushi emits. you’d be grieving without it.

“lost?” a light brush of your forehead rids you of your thoughts.

“hm?”

he’s lightly plucking at the strands of hair hovering above you, focusing briefly. there’s a small speck of dust that’s been caught. after a few unsuccessful attempts, he manages to get it out.

well he mutters that he’s unsuccessful, but really, he’s finding inconspicuous excuses to feel how soft your hair is against the back of his palm.

“lost you for a second there.” he replies, before shifting back, blowing the dust from his fingertip. “everything okay?”

you feel so regretful daydreaming about him in front of his face, and it’s not even that, it’s the fact you’re with him right now, right this moment. you know that time is slipping and yet you’re wasting it mulling over pessimistic thoughts of the future.

“mm. i’m alright, sorry. thank you, by the way.”

“don’t thank me.” he picks up the dainty little cup and you study the floral patterns carefully, you recognize this one. well, you’re familiar with most of them now. if one would ever end up breaking, you’d probably know, since they’re so unique in their respective decorations and there’s only a few. koushi is extra careful with it, free hand slotted under the base of the cup. it’s elegant. he’s pretty when he drinks.

actually, you were thinking about all of that because he’d brought up graduation, his match with against shiratorizawa had gone down splendidly, no doubt even he was shocked they’d made it to nationals. koushi had often lamented to you about being karasuno’s substitute setter, though he admires kageyama plenty and knows what was best for the team. he’s awfully good at putting others first, even if he really wants to play. that’s what you’d concluded. soon after nationals, comes the end of the academic year. too soon, way too soon.

that awful feeling rises up again.

his hands stretch across the table, gently engulfing yours, and it’s lovely, really, how comfortable you are with one another. how instantly calming he is.

“you’ll come to watch us play, right?”

“i always come, silly. i wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

you’ve never seen him so happy.

the evening he rushed to you straight out of the coach, breathless, telling you they’d won. it was like he was able to shine even brighter than he already did. and for a moment, you looked at him—really looked— and you wished you could’ve captured that moment, in all its glory, forever.

koushi. too good to be real, aren’t you?

you are listening, you swear to god you are. everything he says processes but realisation is eating you alive. you don’t think you can live without him. oh, you sound so flimsy, so pitiful and maybe you are. destably so. you’re too selfish for your own good.

but he’s still holding onto you, still careful with his grasp, but with the way his thumb skirts ever so gently across the ridge of your hand, he has no intentions of letting go just yet. you don’t want him to. you’d like to stay like this a while longer.

but it’s late and he’s exhausted from practice, especially now he’s doing twice the amount for nationals. he insists that even if he isn’t on the main roster, he’ll be needed. a team needs absolutely everybody to function properly.

so when he pays for you yet again, chair scraping slightly on the wooden planks of flooring to leave, your heart is caught in your throat, drenched in feeling like it’s the last time you’ll ever see him.

of course you follow him out, politely thanking the old lady who runs the cafe on your way. his feet are planted just steps away from the entrance, gaze to the sky, a flurry of darkness and escaping slithers of light. of course he’s smiling.

part of you wants to hit his arm, ask him how he could possibly be relaxed, stretching his arms lime that when you’re on the verge of losing it. but he hasn’t looked at you yet. when he does, he’ll know.

it doesn’t vanish, that affability that accompanies his grin, even when a look of concern is etched all over his face. it’s still so radiant. koushi doesn’t know how to be unkind. but he knows how to blind you.

“why are you crying?”

there he is again, thumb smearing at the tears that’ve barely slipped. you’re crying without realising. you were fine moments ago but now you’re sobbing so hard it’s difficult to breathe out. there’s nothing empty about it, they’re infuriatingly real, like you’ve already lost him. like he’s walked down the road, waved to you one last time and died.

suddenly there’s a million things you want to say to him, and another three years won’t be near enough to get them all out.

it’ll be too hard to explain over text, or call, too late too.

“ko-oushi..” you tremble out, and he knows you won’t be able to explain. he’s okay with that. just forgive yourself for now and he’ll walk you home. you don’t like to cry. you cry a lot but it never gets easier. he doesn’t mind, though. he likes how big your heart is, even if you insist it’s awful. what does worry him, though, is that someday someone might mistake it for weakness. you don’t deserve to know what true heartbreak feels like.

so, his hand’s in yours, consoling you like one would a child, always dabbing at those tears and telling you things will be alright. koushi knows that you’ll tell him when you’re ready, especially if it’s something that’s upset you this much.

“i don’t want to graduate.” is all you think to come up with, which is a blatant lie. you do want to. all you do is talk about how much you do, but you don’t want to graduate from him.

his response is a little tentative at first.

“why?”

“because.. i’ll go away. i’ll go far away and i’ll miss you.”

he’s deathly quiet, it’s terrifying.

“and if i miss you i’ll keep missing you until i can’t stand it anymore, koushi.” you ramble on, utterly humiliated that you’re confessing just how deep your dependency on him is. but you can’t stop. you don’t have time to. “i hate life. i hate that i can’t see a future without you. i don’t want to drag you back or control you in any way but god, i think i need you.”

you’re not quite sure what this is. is this.. a heated tangent, a sob-fest to a confidante, a guilt-ridden confession from an obsessive maniac? you hadn’t actually thought about what you wanted or would gain from telling him all this. perhaps it’d been bottled too long, longer than you were conscious of and this was the only resort left to release it. he’ll probably end up hating you by the time you’re done strangling out the last few words, deem you insane and ask you to seek some sort of professional help, knowing him, he’d help you find it.

it doesn’t matter. you’re talking and talking and talking, tripping unattractively over phrases and you have no intentions of stopping. not even to breathe, not like you have been anyway. you can’t even look at him whilst you parade yourself like this.

that’s alright with him. he really loves the sound of your voice.

he’s listening. he swears to god he is, but all he can think about is how happy you’ve made him. how he’d never leave you lonely.

but how could he ever convince you? unlike you, koushi isn’t the best with words. he’ll nod for hours and hours as you pour your heart out over something, and still come up empty. really, he doesn’t know what he wants either. he has ideas of the next few years, but he hasn’t even addressed the fact you’d be absent in all of it. you don’t know it, but he’s so used to you he’s practically filled you into his future automatically.

still, you’re talking, not too sure what you’re even saying anymore. and neither does he if he’s completely honest, but he’s too fond of you to mention it.

but he does it. he places his hand on the nape of your neck and kisses you.

he promises it’s not to be rude, or because he’s not interested in whatever it is you’re trying to say. but because he’s wanted to do this for ages. would it be overly dramatic to say the first time he lay his eyes on you? maybe. it wouldn’t be too far from the truth.

oh, god. he’s really kissing you.

he’s sweet tasting and nothing like you could’ve ever imagined. and believe you, you’d thought about it quite a bit. the way he’d feel against you. you’d never admit to anybody that you’d fantasied about this, feeling his tongue flutter over the seam of your mouth, hands dipping gently into the flesh of you as he tightens his hold on your waist.

why couldn’t you have accepted earlier you were fucking head over heels for him?

and of course he likes you back! he calls you his! he takes you on dates and touches you and has eyes for only you. how thick were you?

it’s alright.

at least you’ve gotten there eventually.

though a few months too late, you’re kissing him in the middle of your hometown, and he’s whispering against your lips that you won’t be losing him anytime soon.

#haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu #hq #sugawara fic #sugawara x reader #sugawara headcanons #sugawara hcs #sugawara fluff

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frecklef0x · 3 years

Text

Mass Effect 1: Playthrough Masterpost

At last, I have finished Mass Effect 1!

I have heard some mutuals say they wish they could play it again for the first time, and you kind of can--through me! I’ve been posting little “episodes” of live-tweet-stream-of-consciousness as I play, and now I’ve compiled them into one post to make my life easier.

Anyway, here’s the first one, the rest are under the cut. :)

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode one

My ass looks great in this uniform, first of all

Impaled robo zombies, yikes

Cheap shot, Saren, smh. How will I pass my spectre test now?!

Why does he have robot eyes? Is he like, Geth-Turian? Why? Is he a robo zombie also? Was it the beacon???

Cool beacon nightmares, I'm sure this is fine

This Kaiden guy has implants? ORTEGA?!??!?

"Call me princess again and you'll be picking your teeth up off the floor" lol obliterated

The citadel elevators are very realistic, five minutes of tense silence huh

Ya girl got a PROMOTION and a DOPE SQUAD time to catch a TRAITOR

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode two

First things first, gotta go find the blue scientist to join the gang

This galaxy is HUGE! How many of these places will I actually be able to go?!

Only two friends at a time????? D:

Ah, a distress signal, let's see wha--A DESERT CENTIPEDE NOPE ABORT ABORT

Robo aliens? In MY Theronian mining facility? Its more likely than you think

Running over dudes in my Mako is extremely satisfying tbh

*runs over geth troopers* *runs over geth armature* *runs over geth colossus* ... *backs over geth colossus*

Working elevators in the ancient ruins ✔

Oooooooh man hope this nerd is gay

Wrex, a friend of yours? Nope, not a friend, too murdery

"ShAaaAame about the ruins Shep, sOooOo much collatoral damage, SHEP" stfu Council, "ruthless" was in the resume when you promoted us, 10/10 would shoot lasers through archeological digs again

When Kaiden calls us "ma'am" I am, uh, into it

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode three

Time to talk to the gang! Gotta meet the fam proper

Oh dear seems we got a shmee of racism on board, compatriots

Wow Raina, good foot-in-mouth moment with Wrex there huh...sorry about the eventual extinction of your race, lost this round of Pain Olympics

OH SHIT OH SHIT BLUE HOTTIE BIGENDER? THIS IS NOT A DRILL???

“hi I’m Kaiden wanna hear about my last crush ;)” “hi I’m Liara wanna hear about Asari mating rituals? ;)))” damn we really slidin right into the DMs no chill

Garrus: fuck rules and red tape amiright Raina: oh u right ;)

Guess I’ll actually do a mission now LETS GO LESBIANS LETS GO

Honestly rolling out with Tali and Liara is a mood, squad goals

Raina @ every corporation on Noveria: I would sell you to satan for one(1) corn chip

This reactivation puzzle is some shit

I see some Mistakes were made

We already killing moms at this stage damn BioWare

FUCK FUCK BENEZIA KILLED ME AND I LOST A FUCKTON OF PLAYTIME

THERES LIKE NO AUTOSAVE IN THIS BITCH FUUUUUUUUU

fuck fuck fuck god damn it gotta shoot a bunch of deranged baby bug people again god DAMN IT

Okay we killed Liara’s mom in front of her hope that’s fine

And we let mama bug go free because after talking to Wrex, Raina’s like “this galaxy is a little trigger happy with the genocide, good luck out there bug mama ❤️ be cool please”

I have literally watched the scientist in the hot labs get killed three times now

So far the debreifs with the council have not gone very well

“You let bug mama go?! How many generations until they take over everything???” “My money’s on two :D Place your bets now assholes or stfu :DDD”

Asked Liara if she was okay and she seems pretty Cool With It

I hope to one day return to Noveria and Death Star it into oblivion

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode four

Talked with Tali and this situation with the Geth and the Quarians is giving me an existential crisis

You “inspect” my beautiful ship? You got somethin’ to say about my crew??? Talk shit get hit, bitch I will kill you

Yoooo my old earth gang, yeah what the hell, I’ll help ou—oh nope nvm he’s a xenophobe, you hang him and I’ll shoot his friend in the face, thx for your time

Went to the citadel to finish some assignments, left tasked with twice as many

“dOn’T cUt CoRneRs” fear not dear Kaiden, I have a permit: this piece of paper that says I do what I want

Still with the elevators, I really cannot with this

“You make it all sound so...dangerous...” ;) ;))))))

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode five

Headin’ to Virmire to rendezvous with the Salarian team

A cure for the genophase?!?!?! :D

Oh wait oh no are we for real gonna talk about destroying the cure like Wrex isn’t standing right here omg

SHIT GUYS NO NOT LIKE THIS WREX PLEASE

Phew for a conversation that basically started with guns drawn, it went pretty well... “What Saren has isn’t even a proper cure, he’s just fucking with the Krogans at this point. Are we gonna stand for that? Or are we gonna murder?” “Damn Shep, you right, we gon’ murder”

Okay Ashley, go join the aliens, try not to die

Shadow Team!🎵 tearing through the base 🎶 disabling all the defenses 🎵 (you gotta sing it to the tune of the Trogdor song)

We free the prisoners!!! :)

We shoot the prisoners??? :(

“Raina? How can you shoot them where they stand?” So it’s more merciful to let them explode? NAH FAM

This scientist is responsible for the mind control stuff? For Benezia? Fine I’ll let her go but I hope she explodes

We did not learn our lesson concerning beacons I see

Wait if even Saren is worried about his mind control ship does that mean there are larger forces involved here?

Oh. Oh fuck

Ugh Ashley I EXPLICITLY TOLD YOU NOT TO DIE

(so we really never found any info about that genophase cure huh? disappointing)

Oh Seren, you dumb dumb. You absolute fool. Clown man.

When Raina slings Kaiden over her shoulder to carry him to the ship—mmmmmmmmwoooow I am very bisexual

Bruh Raina takes every council call and she disconnects pissed off every time

WAIT I literally just hung up with the council, ASHLEY is DEAD, and Kaiden needs a DTR RIGHT NOW?!?!? Boy, NO, READ THE ROOM

This has been a stressful day

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode six

Shepard will avoid her feelings and go to Faros instead

Seeing Ashley’s figure greyed out and her locker inaccessible makes me sad

Wrex and Garrus, let’s go shoot some geth 💪

A mind controlling planet—of course!

Shep gets all her renegade points shooting capitalists

Saved, uh, about half the colonists

If I have one more bad acid trip I stg

Oh nope here’s another one

Shep needs a nap

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode seven

Ah, the council. Curse your sudden but inevitable betrayal.

At least Liara is good at pep talks ;)

Joker, you cockblock

Haha DUDE we airborne, you THOUGHT

Now that I am exiled from the Citadel, guess I’ll run some galactic errands:

o Killed corporate scientists who though we would rescue them lol

o Destroyed a bunch of geth camps helping Tali on her pilgrimage

o Disabled a nuke and killed some pirates

o Shut down some evil Cerberus experiments

o And illegally traded information!

Okay time to get back on track

So we may or may not be flying to our doom

OH GOD LIARA LOVES ME!!! RAINA, YOU DISASTER, YOU DID IT AAAAAH ❤️❤️❤️

frecklef0x plays mass effect: (ME1) episode eight

You know what I love? Being murdered by geth armatures

All these Ilos ruins be looking the same

Security panel is only kinda helpful

Oh, luckily I know Prothean now!

“CANNOT BE STOPPED” wow very encouraging, thanks

After that super motivating message and disabling security, its time to go down, down to goblin town

Vigil? Oh word?

My girlfriend is GEEKING out

I knew something what wrong with that fucking Citadel

Vigil: information is power. Also Vigil: What does it matter why they do what they do? All that matters is you stop them

“non-essential” personnel die first, huh? GROSS, VIGIL (gotta be honest that hits different in 2020)

Garrus gets it, I knew we liked that guy

Okay, find conduit, save galaxy, break millennium-old genocide cyle, nbd

Ugh Mako you gotta do me dirty one last time I see, I hate this thing

THE CONDUIT STRAIGHT YEETED MAKO

The citadel robot says we’re doomed : )

This shootout is SO fun, seriously

Saren get it toGETHER

Renegade Raina can kill with a conversation apparently, well done then

Concentrate on the Sovereign—why am I gonna save a council that hates my guts, sorry, but I have a JOB to DO that you ACTIVELY HINDERED

Great, zombie husk Saren, just what I needed as I mull over the possible consequences of my galaxy-altering decision

GO JOKER GO

Humanity-only council seems…questionable. Raina didn’t love the council but this sits wrong. Couldn’t we just appoint a more diverse council, including a human?

Anderson seems like a good enough dude, so…we’ll see.

TIME FOR WAR BOYS, GODDAMN WHAT A GAME

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irondad-not-ironsad · 3 years

Text

WandaVision Episode 1 Reaction

Spoilers below!!

I enjoy the music over the marvel logo

But also a 43 second logo feels kinda long for a 29 minute episode- is it just for the premier or is this gonna happen before each ep?

Also I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that there is a title sequence, which will probably be similar in length. Combine that with the lengthy credits people have been complaining about, it seems that the percentage of the thirty minutes that is actually the story is lower than it should be

not that I don’t love a good title sequence! But I’ll take a well fleshed out episode over fancy logos, title sequences and credits any day

now that I’ve got that of my chest, on to the actual show

I like how they have the frame shaped like that of an old timey tv, combined with the black and white it really adds to the old timey sit come vibe

I like these bells

Ok I know I complained about to much time being wasted with logos and such, but i LOVE how cheesy this theme song is and I love them showing vision and Wanda driving tp there house in wedding attire

“A regular husband and wife” 2 seconds late *vision disappears into a cloud of sparkles*.... 1 minute 8 seconds in and I love this

Even there acting is reminiscent of an old timey sit com this is amazing

feel like I should note he title sequence ends at the 1.36 mark approximately, which may not seem like a lot but again the show is less than thirty minutes so it adds up

Wanda talks with a fifties accent: I already love this show

Also I wish I had magic I could use to clean, I’m moving back into my dorm right now and Wanda’s powers would be SO helpful

Also I LOVE the laugh track

Also Wanda’s short curly hair is so cute

I love how neither of them knows what the heart means so they play it off by being like “yeah of course I know what it means, how could I forget? Do YOU remember what it means

Also Vision is literally part computer shouldn’t he have a photographic memory?

Also how old is Wanda? I could have sworn someone said she was 19 in civil war, which would make her like 21 here? I think?? Idk tho, as a 19 year old I don’t think she has ever looked 19 in the movies, even back in Ultron she looked at least in her mid twenties

The face Vision makes when he makes himself human is so funny

Also Vision blowing Wanda a kiss and her reaching back to grab it is the perfect amount of corny that makes it still cute

Also I wonder what vision’s job is

The backing music is so funny

I can already tell Agnes is going to be some great comic relief in a show that’s already hilarious

“I assure you, I’m married. To a man. A HUMAN one!” I know I’ve said before that I was never the biggest fan of Wanda or Vision but I love Wanda in this show

Obv there is something clearly off here, but I feel like I need to mention that it’s clear this is some warped reality. If I had never seen any of the MCU before, I may believe it was just witch and her robot husband living in the fifties, but the little details really make it clear to the audience (the majority of whom I am sure are familiar with the mcu) that something is off. This scene is one of those, where Wanda cannot seem to recall how long her and Vision have been together and plays it off by saying “It feels like we always have been together”

Is Agnes giving Wanda advice for the bedroom? is this really what I’m watching? Or have I wildly misinterpreted this?

Love the old timey lingo

Vision working a desk job is so funny

Love that vision doesn’t even know what they do at his job, I know it’s part of the false reality thing but also lowkey relatable

“you’re like a walking computer” “I most certainly am not! I’m a regular carbon-based employee made entirely of organic matter”

I started this like twenty minutes ago and have only gotten 7 minutes in because I keep stopping to type my reactions. I am going to try to shut up and watch, and stop screaming about every little detail for a bit 😂

Real quick though does Vision just go by Vision at work?

Ope apparently he does.

I wonder if Vision took Wanda’s last name

Or is he Vision Stark-Banner since it was Tony and Bruce who made him??

He probably isn’t called that but I think it would be funny if he was

Love that instead of writing “dinner with boss” or “Dinner w/ Harts” or even just “Harts” he drew a freaking heart like im dying

if my lack of emojis seems weird I’m typing this on a computer which I never normally do and I’m to lazy to pull up the emoji keyboard, so basically imagine there’s a cry laughing emoji after everything funny

“No skeletons in the closet?’ “I don’t have a skeleton sir.”

Yup I was right, Agnes is giving her sexy time advice

“you should stumble when you walk in a room so he can catch you. It’s romantic!” that is the only way I will be flirting from now on

Also I got to say, I'm guessing it’s a fifties thing but those pointy bras don’t look comfortable

So she answers the phone “Vision Residence” Is Vision also their last name now? Does he go by Vision Vision??

They make the best facial expressions

This phone conversation where Wanda think they’re having a date night whereas Vision is talking about his boss coming for dinner is comedy GOLD

also I love the fact that they’re giving us stereotypical sitcom drama while keeping it clear that there are bigger problems than dinner with the boss

Fake commercial break is at 9.56 (these time stamps are for myself I want to calculate how much of the episode is actually the story)

I do love the fake commercials tho! And I suppose in a way they ARE part of the show

They missed the chance to make it the toastmate three thousand and make every ironman fan cry

The beeping toaster sounds like a ticking bomb..... also the little red light is the only color we’ve seen this episode I think

Commercial ends at 10.46

Also love that it was an SI toaster, still wish they had made it 3000 instead of 2000

How did Wanda confuse Mr. Hart with her husband? Not that I’m complaining, her coming out in a robe and covering Vis’ Boss’ eyes is HILARIOUS

“This is the traditional Sokovian greeting? Didn’t I tell you my wife is from Europe?” “How exotic!” “We don’t break bread with Bolsheviks”

Visions pants are SO high waisted

“It’s our anniversary!” “Our anniversary of WHAT?” “WELL IF YOU DON”T KNOW I”M NOT GONNA TELL YOU”

Poor Vision is trying to figure out what kind of company he works for this is sooo funny

Agnes coming in clutch with a full meal

So Wanda needs the ingredients in order to magic a meal she can’t just make one appear

Vision breaking into song was amazing

How did one chicken turn into like 30 eggs

Vision is singing old McDonald with his bosses wife this is great

“Diane!” “That must be my wife summoning me!” “She calls you Diane?” “Yes... it’s her pet name for me” “I’m coming... Fred”

So many clichés in this show but it’s done in such a purposeful way that it’s still funny

Also we have only seen three rooms: the kitchen, the living room and Vision’s workplace

“Well I think tonight’s going SWIMMINGLY”

Mrs. Hart is SO NOSY

But I love that they don’t know the answers

Wanda looks SO disturbed when Mr. Hart is demanding her and visions story, you can tell her mind is fighting itself and it’s so sad

Mr. Hart is choking, is it bad that I think he deserves it?

Mrs. Hart keeps cheerily repeating stop it, and gone is the stereotypical sitcom camera angles and and the backing music is switched for something eery

This is lowkey scary, Mr. Hart Dying while his wife keeps cheerily saying Stop It and it just feels creepier the more she repeats

Wanda looks distressed and vision is just looking to her for what to do, her old timey accent is gone and she sounds nearly robotic as she tells Vision to help

Poor Wanda, she is so clearly going through it mentally right now

Laugh track is back, and just like that the Harts are leaving, despite only having one bite of food

And somehow Mr. Hart is impressed? Was Wanda rewriting reality to make them so?

I know that this is clearly some alternate reality and nothing is right, but wanda and vision deciding to choose that day as there anniversary and this little convo here is soooooo cute

Aw her making them rings and them both saying I do is soooo cute

And vision saying “and they lived happily ever after’ is so sweet but also so sad in context

What is that little remote vision is holding meant to be?

And love the hexagon closing in on them with the cute music playing to end the episode

Are the people in these credits real? Because it lists the start as Wanda Maximoff and Vision but are the rest actual people?

So there is some sketchy dude watching the maybe fake credits so there's something going on there

The actual credits start with 7.13 left and I’ve been told there's no mid or post credits scene. I’ll let them play while I finish this up anyways

8 minutes and 49 seconds of this show is the logo, title sequence and credits. Out of 29.36 total this means only 20 minutes and 47 seconds is the show, which I suppose is standard for a sitcom but I think I felt deceived by it showing as 29 minutes

Also 50 seconds of “commercial takes the show time down to 19.57 if anyone was wondering

I swear tho I’m not all that bothered by the length, just did the math in case anyone was curious like I am.

I thought I was going to really enjoy this going it, but it still really surpassed my expectations and I can’t wait for episode 2!

This is my raw reactions, but I’m sure that as I mull it over more I’ll be posting more about the show

This is somehow a perfect combo of lighthearted comedy and mild horror

I wanna let this episode stew for a while, so I prob won’t watch episode 2 for at least a day

Also what are your guys’ thoughts on this format of reaction? Did I write to much?

Also what did y’all think of this episode? Feel free to let me know what you think of my reaction, and whether you agree or disagree. I’d love to hear your thoughts!

#anna reacts to wandavision #anna reacts #wandavision #mcu #marvel #avengers #scarlet witch #vision #wanda maximoff #disney plus #wandavision spoilers #wv spoilers #mcu spoilers #marvel spoilers

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staggeringsmite · 3 years

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HELLO! just finished properly listening to your (amazing!) corruption arc playlist! I have many thoughts, and so I wanted to ask you about specific moments and/or characters that you associate with songs (as mentioned in your tags), as I am simply SO intrigued. (did you have certain songs that were added for certain character(s)? were any songs for specific what if's? etc.) also, please consider this a free pass to ramble about anything related to the playlist that you wish. it is SO excellent!!

AHHHH!! thank you jade (both for the compliment and the free space to yell about my thoughts here because when i get playlist brainrot i get it Bad <3) // the playlist in question

i think i'm genuinely going to do a song-by-song thoughts below the cut, but here are some overview thoughts/associations if you don't wanna read all of that or don't have the time!

overall this started with athena by nova twins! i thought the sp*der imagery and overall vibe was great for a more sinister look at the wacky (mostly) chaotic neutral party as they are, just going full lolth. i wanted the pacing to be semi-slow and then drop into the more rock-heavy reckless villain-y section before moving into a (?) bittersweet? i guess? end that feels a bit more like a question mark of if it was worth it.

i think this party is full of extremely interesting motivations to side with an evil power for their own gain/the benefit of the people they care about, and each one of them has a very complex relationship with that so things spun wildly out of control as a thought about this.

for songs i associate with specific characters here's an overview, but you'll notice there aren't a lot for fy'ra rai or orym which i get into a bit more in the song-by-song:

all: i come with knives, into the spin, steady/steady, control, bad dreams / lolth: million years, athena, diggers / dariax: diggers, plenty, hollow / dorian: athena, grenadine, dangerous / fearne: plenty, you should see me in a crown, black wave / fy'ra rai: home / opal: home, grenadine, black wave, you should see me in a crown / orym: i'm not calling you a liar, dangerous

song-by-song >:)

1. i come with knives (acoustic) - this song, zoowee, so i went with the acoustic version because i think it's a nice slow but sinister start and it very much gave me the feeling of whenever you begin as a character to question taking this kind of power, that is a Source yes that you can do whatever with but is rooted in temptation and associated with evil, is there any real justification for that which is not in some part selfish. "i come with knives and agony to love you" if that isn't the chosen ones to a T in their overall reasoning for even considering a deal with lolth. and as much as that may be rooted in care, and wanting to be strong and powerful enough to protect the people they care about, it is a painful way to love when you really choose that path once and for all.

2. into the spin - this one is based on "slow climb but quick to descend" and i love the instrumentation as a part of the overall vibe, but it's about sowing the seed here. planting even a hint of consideration in accepting the power of the circlet and lolth's words is going to need time for the person to mull it over, but once it's on it is On baby.

3. million years - this is what i mean by All In Baby, and while it isn't the playlists narrative point of anyone actually accepting the power for good, it is a glimpse intended to shake things up after an 8 minute slow start with the first two songs, and this is all about lolth who is a Chaotic Evil entity, who is a reckless and hauntingly destructive force <3

4. home - "everything you made will end up broken" i think this song to fy'ra rai is more of an omen, of everything that she cannot fix but wants to, knowing that she cannot make choices for the group and seeing the potential path they could wind up on and knowing that fundamentally if they go that way it is their decision no matter how much it will hurt her - for opal there is SOMETHING about the tone of this song that feels very much like her, and the complete lack of care it seems to have to rattle off mundane things to the intimate drama of the place, to omens, to demands/declarations i think it shows her personality well and how that pairs with a chaotic neutral entity being offered something like the power of the circlet

5. steady, steady - idk if this is necessarily everyone but the mix of you know when you're ready and i am ready to be the one, this is the song about taking the leap and grabbing for power and/or fy'ra rai and orym's feelings of diving in with them or resisting/leaving them

6. diggers - for lolth this is just the consistent "i've been waiting for you" in the bg which i found fun and disconcering but also i think this is the perfect party and perfect storm for her to convince someone to use the circlets power >:) - for dariax! it seems with what we know he doesn't really know that he is a divine soul sorcerer? unless that is a show he is putting up. still, i feel like him carrying the circlet is Very interesting as someone with a divine bloodline who is in a way being given/chosen for that type of power holding onto this artifact born from evil and perhaps being tempted by it & i think this song works as an interesting back and forth for him with the strange double-entity grab for him in a way

7. athena - truly just a banger that fit the vibes wayyyy too well and started this whole thing, it's loud and reckless and out for blood babey <3 - i think i associate it with dorian mostly because i also associate it with lolth and he is the closest to really taking that leap in canon (and also probably the first one the go if we're following this playlist like a story with everyone/most everyone going corrupt, though it can be read truly infinite ways these are just compiled songs) i think it has a certain flair and appeal that just makes me Feel like it's the song that would play the second dorian puts the circlet on (which! fun fact! decreases your charisma by 2! have fun beloved bard!) - i think it's a very intense conversation

8. i’m not calling you a liar - okayokayokay it's orym thought time bc there are sooo many worlds and routes for orym here and i truly have no idea where he would even end up in this hypothetical. do i think that orym loves these guys and wants to protect them? yes. do i think that he may genuinely take the pain of loving them and keep his morals by walking away and/or turning on them if they all go evil? maybe. do i think he also might love them enough to throw that away? maybe. in a party of all chaotic neutrals besides him without fy'ra rai he is surprisingly the wild card here. while they have each other and no one else, he has the teachings and wisdom of the voice of the tempest and a moral compass that does not align with theirs at all. so, something has to give! dorian's slide into chaotic neutral was natural, but i think orym would be giving up Much More of himself to let himself slide from neutral good to chaotic neutral. i have no answers only sad, sad hypotehtical questions and scenarios so i will just, leave you with "and i love you so much, i'm gonna let you kill me." - this song also comes here before the storm of the 3-5 because whatever way he goes i think orym sees it all happen before anyone else does.

9. grenadine - Do Not Tell Me You Couldn't Hear villainous opal and dorian say the lines "what a big heart i have, i'll be your savior now. what a real catch i am, all the more to pull you down." - i see this song as playful but more genuine for dorian in terms of Truly Really believing any action he does to protect his friends is justified and good to him in his eyes whereas this is a very playful song for a villainous opal - they both give off this vibe strongly though (could see this one for fearne as well but don't have a good a justification)

10. black wave - helloooooo my favorite druid and warlock?? going apeshit with power? more so than they already are on a day-to-day basis (esp given episode 6 combat)? that's what this song is about. "stumbling down the street i swear to god you don't wanna test me" - i also think they both have an interesting question with "what do i believe?" with fearne being of the feywild which is a place of considerably different moral standing to exandria and opal being so young that she doesn't have the world figured out at all <3 terrifying and upsetting when you get into those questions on a corruption arc <3

11. you should see me in a crown - okay i knooooow this one is on the dorian playlist BUT vibes for my brutal babes <333 something about opal’s whole personality and fearne confronting the mirror self But eventually choosing/heading down the path anyway?? impeccable i love it there’s very few other thoughts here

12. control - OKAY not only does this song Fuck but i put it as party wide because i think it transitions nicely into the end of the mix which is more of the “questioning this decision after going all in but not being able to turn back/was it all worth it in the end?” part - i mostly love the “though i like the idea of providence... i’m in love with control” repeated because! i think the circlet is very interesting in that it has been iterated many times over that though it has connections to lolth and she has some claim/twisted abilities with it, it IS just a power source. so, the idea of going all in and accepting this power is an incredibly interesting dilemma of “who’s in charge here? did you really put it on/would you have without these dreams and lolth’s influence? are you really in control?” i think this song really represents that admission/delusion of control in this situation.

13. plenty - okay this song in any context is just my Feywild/Faerie Vibe song so i think this trails back to my feelings about fearne leaning into that different set of fey morals along a corruption arc, and as for dariax i think this is about abundance! following through that mixture of divine power source and chaotic evil god origin over dariax and his chaotic history of vast and varied experiences in emon, i think this very much befits a corrupt version of him.

14. dangerous - this song makes me insane, and the first reason i put it on the mix was the “the dead are true believers. rest assured. we are all believers” really just made me think of a terrible and cinematic moment of them discovering the circlet with the dead aboard the ship ESP in the context of this playlist’s narrative where that was the point they were destined to claim its power and go through their corruption arc - “how does it feel to be your own deceiver?” is the main reason and feeling as for why i made this a dorian song as well in line with “don’t worry i would do anything for my friends.” bc i personally find dorian’s corruption arc to be disillusioned with his own intentions and takes a lot of convincing himself that taking this power for his friends is noble in the scope of this group’s collective morals and self-interest in keeping each other safe and prosperous so <3

15. hollow - woowee dariax corruption, at least in this scope, i think is very frightening to me in that i think he’s going full maximalist, abundant, greedy, impulsive chaotic evil if we’re realllly leaning into a villain arc but still many of those things if we’re just going “this group is the only thing that matters and i’ll do anything for them no matter the cost” - i also think this song has a tone of resentment towards this? apprehension a bit? recognizing that this is how the person singing is but not entirely enjoying or feeling justified in it? as impulsive as dariax is, i think he cares A Lot, and is even a character i could see pulling a reverse dorian and going chaotic good in a different story than we’re in? “so simple when i was younger” and “i’d be a dancer of a different tune” really give me angsty dariax vibes in the height of his corruption arc

16. bad dreams - “don't you worry about your bad dreams cause I'm not in them. don't you worry about what change brings cause you can't stop it.” WOOF i don’t know that this one really needs to be explained but it’s the climax and the descent all in one of the party/corrupted individual being too far gone in their decision to step back or be saved. i think the tone of the song lends itself well to a mixture of uncaring but also giving some question to if they regret it or not based on the narration of the crowd against them.

#cheep cheep #ask #jadeandquartzes #this is ridiculously long i just <333 get so lost in the playlist sauce <333 all the time <333 #if you read all of this i am kissing you on the cheek <3 #spider ment #spider tw

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iheartkikixo · 4 years

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Thoughts on the Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D series finale

********AOS SERIES FINALE SPOILERS AHEAD*********

********AGENTS OF S.H.I.E.L.D SERIES FINALE SPOILERS AHEAD*********

*******SERIOUSLY. IF YOU DON’T WANNA BE SPOILED STOP READING NOW********

You were warned.

Okay. So Agents of Shield is finished.

On the first watch I won’t lie, I was REALLY conflicted and bothered by the ending. I really couldn’t understand why they chose to go that route and I ended up pacing my house for like 30mins. However, after a couple hours of mulling it over, a rewatch and a nap. I understand why they ended it the way they did and actually have a newfound respect and maybe even love for the ending.

I know on first watch seeing everyone (especially May and Daisy) separated and alone initially feels depressing and possibly like the last 7 years of building this family was redundant, but if you look closer, it wasn’t...at all.

When we first met May, she wasn’t just alone, she was broken and self-isolated from everyone that she cared about and who cared about her. After the events of Bahrain, she closed herself down and became a shell of herself while her guilt and self-loathing threatened to eat her alive. The May we see in the final 3 episodes is so incredibly far from that. When Daisy throws Bahrain in her face in s2, the self loathing is still very present and she still can barely speak on it, she still feels like a monster for what happened and she retreats away from the team (to a degree) and back into herself. This reaction is so different to when Kora throws Bahrain in her face in 7x11. May is at a point where she fully realizes she wasn’t the monster in that story, she did what she did to save the innocent, and that at her very core is who she is, a protector of the innocent and those who can't protect themselves. And like she tells Kora, she’s “made peace with it”. In the last scene with May, yes there is a sadness that the team isn’t all together, but she’s not broken, unhappy or even alone. She’s found a new calling teaching at an Academy named after Coulson which upholds his legacy. She’s jovial when Flint comes and she laughs and jokes. It's so far removed from s1 May. Before Bahrain, May wanted kids and even when she was trying to save Katya, you could tell that she cared about kids a lot, this echoes to her protectiveness over the bus kids, and also extends into the Framework where kids being in danger was the thing that kinda brought her back to herself, and then also Robin, who she becomes a mother to. This is where the best of May comes out, she’s a mentor and a protector and in her last scene we see her happily being that to Flint and other students. So it’s full circle, she’s physically away from the team but not holed up alone in a cubicle in pain. She’s healed over these past several years and found a new purpose for her life, and her Shield family and time with them gave her that and made that possible.

The same with Daisy. When we meet her she is truly alone, she’s grown up alone, has nobody, she’s living in a van, she doesn’t even know her real name or date of birth, she’s searching for her family and searching for an identity and purpose. Throughout the last 7 seasons she’s found all of that and more. In this ending, like May, she’s not with the team, but she’s not truly without it either. She’s still in Shield, still doing missions, still in contact with the team, she still has them. If something goes wrong, there isn’t a doubt in my mind that they will come running as they always have, but after several years of fighting Hydra, Inhumans, ghosts, demons, LMDs, aliens, Chronicoms, being stranded on alien planets or at the bottom of the sea, being thrown into the future and then into the past, being mutilated or killed and resurrected or not, they all deserve some reprieve. They also can’t live under each other forever and they all deserve to actually live their lives. At the beginning of the series Daisy was lost and she didn’t know who she was, by the end neither of those are true anymore. She’s found her calling, she’s found family, she’s found relatives, she’s even found love. And now It’s like she’s paying it forward. Someone found her and gave her love, home, family and solid ground and now she’s doing the same for others (namely Daniel and Kora). Everything really goes back to the conversation her and Mack had where he tells her that even if the team dynamic shifts, it's okay and she’ll be okay. In real families we don’t all stay under the same roof forever, we branch out, take jobs in other cities or countries and start families of our own, but it doesn’t negate our original family and I don't think this ending does either. It doesn’t mean found families hold less weight than blood families, because with family (the people you’ve chosen to love and have chosen to love you back, blood or not), even when you’re not around them 24/7, distance and time change nothing. Based on the group conversation, they clearly have been in contact and will continue to be, Jemma saying she’ll email Daisy later about something they had earlier discussed, Mack and Yoyo still being together even though they’re on mission in different places at the moment, May telling Mack she has some names of recruits to send him, Coulson telling Daisy to give him a call once she gets back to Earth etc. It's not that they’re not family anymore or that they’re only gonna contact or see each other once a year, their life choices just have them spread out and busy, but they’re still family. Jemma saying they need to do the group meeting annually doesn’t mean it has to only happen once a year, nor does it mean they won’t interact individually whenever they can, it just means that despite how busy life gets they need to make sure they as a whole group isolate some time to be together however they can. That is the most family thing ever. Throughout the year ppl are busy and you see each other but not everyone together at the same time, but then you have something like Thanksgiving or Christmas where everyone makes it their business to find themselves under the same roof for a day. It feels like the same concept applies here. It only feels sad right now because it's new, but after a while it will be normal. They’ve spent the better part of a decade living under the same roof and now they’re not even on the same planet all the time, it's a weird adjustment, but they will adjust.

As far as Philinda goes. Philinda has been my AoS OTP since season 1 and while I was kinda sad initially that they didn’t end together, I get it. Phil is dead and PhilLMD is just that, an LMD. A robot. He’s not real and as such, while still having Philinda scenes makes me happy, I don’t think I want May to have to settle for a robot no matter how advanced. It’s not fair. Especially with her being an empath now, every time she touches Phil it's a reminder that he’s not real. He can’t grow old with her or be truly intimate because everything about him is coded into him. She deserves the chance and the space to move on and find something real with someone real and him being around her all the time would prevent that because she loves Phil, even though he’s not really here anymore. Phil was ready to go in season 5 as he felt like he had already been given a second chance and didn’t want to be greedy, which is why he didn’t seek out the cure in space. LMD!Phil who works solely off of Phil’s memories and feelings is echoing the same sentiments by contemplating shutting down. It's not fair for May to let herself explore this any deeper (especially now being an empath as she feels things more deeply), only for him to decide to shut down leaving her again, and it's not fair for them to explore this and him to force himself to stay operative until she dies as to not hurt her again, even though his Phil coding is telling him it's time to go. I feel like once everyone is comfortably settled into their new lives and he knows they’re all truly okay, he’ll shut down for good, until then he’s just around in case they need him.

I don’t think I need to speak too much on Fitzsimmons or Mackelena. With everything Fitz and Simmons have endured over the last 7 seasons, retirement (not sure if Simmons is fully retired too) seems beyond reasonable. We’ve watched them lose each other or themselves in one way or another every season, and like everyone else on the team they kept coming back for more when it would’ve been easier to walk away and most probably would have. But they're not most people, they are a family and refused to abandon the team while it was in need. So this ending with their super cute kid is just very deserved and great to see. Mackelena. I love that they’re still agents. I was also initially surprised Mack was still an agent as he seemed like the most likely to leave a couple seasons ago. Maybe the Adventures of Mack and The D gave him a new outlook, realizing that there are so many out there who want to and will do good if given the space and opportunity to. I also love that Piper asked for a Davis LMD and that he and Piper can argue like old times. I thought that was kinda cute.

Overall, I feel like this moment was necessary. Change sucks, but it's necessary for growth. I also think the messaging is great and applies to the cast, the fans and just the world in general. Change isn’t bad, people come into our lives for seasons and they teach us, love us, heal us and sometimes leave us, but that’s not the end. There are new people and new adventures waiting, and the same way people come into your lives for a reason, we also are destined to go into other people's lives and be that person who teaches, loves and heals them the way someone did for us. It’s a cycle. And that's one of the ways the world moves forward and gets better. Good people bringing out the best in other people, who move on to bring out the best in other people, creating more and more good people. Philindaisy will always hold the most special place in my heart in this show. Phil found May in her cubicle and Daisy in her van, and the three of them saved each other in so many ways and gave each other everything they needed as well unconditional, unwavering love and support which helped them move beyond their past traumas to the point where they were mentally healthy and strong enough to not just have the family they formed with each other, but also form their own families outside of the original family unit and do the same for others. That in itself is beautiful. This is the end of this particular part of their journey, but in no way do I think it's the end of the family that they all formed over the last 7 years, because you don’t go through all they went through and then just feel nothing. They will forever be a part of each other and they will forever pull from the lessons, experiences and love they have for and gave each other. And that’s life, and also what I’m taking away from this show.

#agents of shield #aos finale #aos spoilers #philinda #philindaisy #melinda may #phil coulson #daisy johnson

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calm-and-wine · 4 years

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(I’ll give you) the best years

part III (masterlist, taglist)

Hiya, I hope everyone is well and taking care of themselves. Here is the third part of Nulu’s adventures, I think there will be five or six parts total, we’ll see how things play out. Hope you like it and please come talk to me about anything, any thoughts, comments, opinions, I’d love to hear them!

PART III

March 2024

As Lucy was standing outside hotel room number 174, she felt positively giddy. She was about to see her husband, who she hasn’t seen for three months, since he came to cheer her during her winning run at the Australian Open. However, there was a teeny tiny part of her that felt nervous. Niall had no idea she was about to knock on his door. What if he didn’t like the surprise? Every rational cell in her body laughed at her, more than sure that he would always be happy to see her.

There was a rustle inside after she knocked, which made her smile, just knowing how clumsy her husband can be, especially when fumbling around.

The door was pulled open, revealing Niall, his head obstructed for a second, before he pulled down his t-shirt, which he must have just grabbed to put on.

“Lulu?” he asked with a groggy voice, which along with his messed up hair and outfit consisting of boxers and said t-shirt, let her know he was probably sleeping. Which wasn’t very surprising, as it was just about seven in the morning.

“I heard you’ve got some spare room in your bed,” she barely managed to get the sentence out before Niall pulled her into him for a warm hug, taking a step back with her safe in his arms, so he could close the door behind them.

The hotel room was almost dark, the only source of light being a bedside lamp. They were both quiet, lost in the moment, in the warmth and smell of their partner, the closeness they had been missing. Niall smelt slightly of sweat, with a trace of his perfume and peppermint, indicating he had been opting for a morning shower, which Lucy was kind of glad about, because he just smelt like Niall. As much as she loved a freshly showered Niall, his skin slightly pink from hot water and smelling of orange body wash, this was the smell of home, of his body, and there was nothing better.

His back was hunched a little, so he could rest his chin on her shoulder, his arms wound tightly around the base of her waist, while her nose was hidden in the intersection of his neck and shoulder, her hand playing with the ends of his hair.

“Did I wake you?” she asked, her voice soft like honey in his ear.

He hummed, but didn’t pull away, if anything, tried to pull her even closer. “Mmm, not sure, might still be dreaming.”

His words made Lucy grin, the fact that he thought of her as a vision, someone from his dreams. She made use of the position she was in and bit on his shoulder to show him the situation they were in was real.

“Aw!” he whined slightly surprised, but she knew he was just pretending to be hurt, she didn’t even let her teeth sink into his skin. And he didn’t even flinch or made a move to pull away. “Okay, I’m definitely not dreaming, thanks for that.” He finally pulled back slightly, but kept his hands on her waist to still keep her close, before finally taking a look at her, hair in a bun, one of his sweaters on her body. “Are you tired? Had a good flight?”

Before she answered, she raised onto her tiptoes and went in for a kiss, Niall’s mouth tasting like a mix of toothpaste and sleep, but it was so nice to be able to kiss him again, she prolonged the kiss until they were both breathless.

When they disconnected, she responded. “Not really, five hours with a screaming baby on board.” She pouted, but she’d actually take all the crying babies if it gave her a few days with her husband.

“Let’s go to bed, then. Talk later, yeah?” he proposed, grabbing her suitcase and placing it next to his own in the corner of a room.

She already took off her sweater and when Niall pulled off his t-shirt, she simply outstretched her hand for the piece of clothing, which he handed her with a smile, always loving seeing his wife in his clothes. They got into bed without any other words shared, wrapping their bodies around each other with no problem, like it was in their muscle memory, finding perfect spots to fit with the other person. Lucy was so tired, her mind started slipping into sleep right away, but she still felt Niall plant a sweet kiss at the crown of her head, resulting in her lips curling into a smile.

Lucy woke up the very same way she fell asleep, with Niall’s kisses.

“Wakey wakey, love,” he whispered right into her ear, making a smile appear on her lips, even though her eyes were still closed.

“What time is it?” she asked, her mouth stretching with a yawn right after.

“Just before noon, I have to leave in a bit over an hour. Just ordered us breakfast, it should be here in twenty.”

She finally opened her eyes, a perfect picture of freshly showered Niall, his hair still damp, kneeling right beside her on the bed, looking at her with her favourite smile of his, the look in his eyes reserved solely for her.

“Mmm, okay, I’m gonna shower real quick, then,” she said sitting up, stretching her arms above her head. She needed to get rid of that airplane stench that always clung to her body after flights.

Niall holded her by the waist before she could make a move to get up and off the bed, putting his other hand on the back of her neck before leaning down for a good morning kiss. “Now you can go,” he said, pulling away after a few more kisses and pecks.

“What’s the plan for today?” she asked, going to grab some clothes and toiletries from her suitcase.

“Well, I’m gonna go check if everything is ready for tomorrow, then I’m doing some press for the tournament on the grounds, should be done pretty early though.”

She didn’t just come to see Niall because she missed him, although that was always the main reason. No, she came to truly show her support. His management was co-creator of a new golf tournament that Niall personally was very involved with, making it all come together and be the best it could possibly be. It was a bit of a new role for him, one that he was excited about, because he wanted to be more involved with his company, but it was also a new territory, which made him stressed and nervous.

“Can I tag along?” she asked, stopping by the bathroom, her hip leaning on the doorway.

He raised his brows. “Of course. Don’t you need to train though?”

“Nah,” she dismissed it right away, but when Niall kept looking at her with scrunched brows, she continued, “I need to do one workout a day, but I’ll just go to the gym tonight or whenever we’re back. Don’t worry about it.”

It looked like Niall mulled over in his head whether to speak up or keep quiet, his bottom lip trapped between his teeth. But he took a step closer to Lucy, leaning his arm on a wall not too far and sighed. “Love.” His voice was gentle, like he didn’t want to scare her with his words. “I’m very happy with the surprise, it’s amazing to have you here, but shouldn’t you be playing a tournament in a few days?”

She sighed, but gave him a soft, knowing smile. Sometimes she wondered if they cared about each other’s careers more than their own. Always happy to be together, but also hating the thought that their partner sacrificed possible successes.

“No, I haven’t committed to it. I need a few days off,” she explained. “I’ve also been coming down with a cold or something the last couple of days. It seems to be all better now, but I just wanted a bit of rest. And I wanted to be here for you. Like you are for me so often. It’s a big deal, your tournament. I wouldn’t miss it.”

“But -”

“Don’t.” She cut him off, already knowing what he was about to say and not wanting him to get too wrapped up in his head.

None of them wanted the other person’s career to suffer because of the long distance nature of their relationship. Lucy always had this worry that she didn’t support Niall enough, didn’t show up for him the same way he did for her. While he feared that she’s purposefully saying no to some tournaments or isn’t training the way that would be the best for her, just to come see him or spend more time together. One could say it was funny, how they both blamed themselves, but never the other person. It was a subject they revisited often, giving each other the very needed reassurance.

But in the end, they just needed to trust that their partner is honest and knows what’s best for them, so if Lucy said it’s okay that she’s here, Niall accepts it with a nod of his head and one last kiss before finally letting her go shower.

The whole tournament was a success and Lucy couldn’t be any prouder of her husband. And every success like that deserved a party. It was a bit spontaneous, people deciding to go celebrate soon after the trophy ceremony. It was the best kind of party, though. Quite casual, just a lot of people inviting their friends and colleagues and going to a club together. Lucy, dressed in jeans and red silk shirt, didn’t feel out of place.

She had never been a party animal, didn’t go to college and didn’t party in high school, as she always had training to go to or homework to catch up on, she wasn’t much of a drinker either (as she needed to keep her body in the best shape possible), but she never complained about going out with Niall. Even though she wasn’t flourishing in social situations, Niall was a bit of a social butterfly and she enjoyed watching him like that, working a room, talking to all those people, making conversation with ease and emitting laughs from his companions. The fact that he either kept her close and engaged in his conversations or often made his way around a room to check on her if they were separated, helped tremendously.

Like now, when he showed up by her side, wrapping both hands around her middle and propping his cheek on her shoulder before twisting his head slightly to land a kiss on her cheek. They separated a while ago, after having a drink together, a bit of dancing and some talks with people handling the business side of sports (which Niall made sure to include her in, because he thought it’d be good for her future plans). Later on, she let him wander off, while she stayed with people she already knew, Aisha and Lena, who she met on a few occasions, as they were working for modest!golf, Ryan, who handled PR for that tournament and his boyfriend, David.

At the start of their relationship, when they were going out, Niall had used to be worried about her, trying to constantly keep her by his side, so she wouldn’t feel left out or abandoned. Not because she couldn’t handle herself, but he simply wanted her to feel comfortable. But with time, he noticed, learned, that she was alright left on her own, as long as there was someone else she was familiar with. When they were out with their London friends, she always ended up gossiping, dancing, or, as Niall calls it ‘wreaking havoc’ with Laura.

Lucy wasn’t engrossed with the story that David was retelling, she heard it a day before when they were hanging out during a tournament, so she reached her hand behind to thread through Niall’s slightly sweaty hair and twisted her head to look at him, cheeks pink from alcohol and the temperature in the room, he looked absolutely adorable.

“Gin?” he asked, spotting a glass in her hand.

“Water,” she replied, before taking notice of his hooded eyes. “You could probably use some.”

Niall took a small step to put a little space between them, just to see her better, but his one hand was still wound around her. He smiled taking her glass, enamoured by how she always took care of him, even through the small things.

“I thought you were drinking tonight?” he asked, handing her the glass back after drinking half of its contents.

They were still standing beside her previous company, but were facing each other, while the rest of the group still talked among themselves, giving them a somewhat private moment.

“Yup,” Lucy nodded, “I already had two gins. And some wine back at the tournament. Can’t really have more.”

Niall hummed in understanding. “But you’re having fun though?”

She smiled, placing her hand on his chest, his shirt sticking slightly to his body. She could feel the heat of his skin through the material, always searching for more connection with her husband. Instead of giving a straight out reply, she leaned up slightly, her small heels giving her a few more inches than usual, and kissed him reasurely, both of them feeling the breaking of a smile forming on their lips, which made it a bit harder, but none of them minded. Sometimes Lucy thought those might actually be her favourite kisses.

She had to gently push on his chest in order for their kiss to end, Niall always being more handsy and affectionate after a few drinks, but as easy as it would be to get lost in the moment with him, she was aware of other people around them, especially the ones right beside.

He let her pull slightly away, but still kept her close, the side of her body right against his. “Wanna go dance for a bit?” he asked after licking his lips. “I should probably sweat some of the alcohol off.”

His eyes were glistening mischievously and she had to bite on her bottom lip at the thought of not only just having fun with Niall on the dancefloor, but especially his undeniably wandering hands and stolen kisses. “Yeah.”

Niall already took a step away, when Aisha spoke up. “Oi, but be sure to bring her back to us!” she howled, Ryan sending a suggestive wink their way, which made Niall burst out with a laugh.

So they went, had fun dancing, had one more drink together, Lucy had some conversations with Niall’s colleagues from the golf world, then they both went back to her earlier group, talked a bit with them, before Niall was called to join other colleagues.

After a while, Lucy was sitting alone, replying to Mia and shooting a quick update text to her parents. Her earlier group discarded a bit, with Ryan and David leaving, Aisha calling her boyfriend, who was back in London, and Lena making moves on the dancefloor with a guy she’s been flirting with throughout the night. She didn’t mind too much though, enjoying a moment of peace and quiet, well, as much quiet as you could get in a club.

She was quite engrossed with her phone, so she didn’t notice Niall approaching, only aware of his presence once he sat down right next to her.

“Hi,” he said, slouching down to rest his head on her shoulder.

“Hello mister.” She put the phone back into her purse and looked at the state of her husband. His eyes were glossy, hair a mess, probably from Niall running his fingers through it too many times. He was definitely drunk, but looked so happy and carefree, Lucy couldn’t help but feel a familiar flutter in her stomach.

She looked down at him, just as he tilted his head up, so their eyes met, both of them wearing lopsided smiles. Lucy reached her hand to play with his hair, which made Niall hum happily, his eyes closed with content.

They just sat like that for a minute, but Lucy eventually spoke up, becoming worried that he’d fall asleep in a moment. “Want me to take you home?” she asked.

Niall looked up at her, when she pulled her hand away from his hair, eyes hooded, but surprisingly focused on her, and nodded. “Yes, please.” His voice was soft and sleepy, so she pulled out her phone to call for a car.

“Okay, we need to wait ten minutes, so please don’t fall asleep on me. Tell me about your night. Did you have a good time?”

He nodded again. “Yeah. So nice. And I’m so happy you’re here.” Even though he could barely keep his eyes open, he easily found a good spot on her neck to kiss and nibble on. “Everything’s always better when we’re together.”

She sighed. “It really is.”

They stayed quiet after that, until the car arrived, then Lucy had to support Niall with her arm around his waist, so he didn’t stumble over his own feet or anything else and got home safe. Some girlfriends or wives would probably complain about that, having to take care of their drunk partners, getting them home, making sure they had water and painkillers, or rubbing their back when they were hunched over a toilet emptying their stomach. But in a way, Lucy cherished those moments. Sure, maybe they weren’t the most pleasurable, but they were so simple and normal, she yearned for them. He was her husband and she didn’t mind taking care of his drunk ass. That’s what true love was all about, wasn’t it?

July 2024

When Niall finally called her back, he was just getting comfy on the couch, his house half dark, as always, the light from TV illuminating his figure. “Sorry I didn’t answer, love. Was working late in the studio and hadn’t even noticed that my phone died. How are you? You okay? I’m sorry about your match.”

She tried calling him right after her loss, feeling shitty and yearning for some love and support. But all three of her calls went unanswered, which wasn’t that surprising considering their lifestyles. It was moments like that when for a moment she wished their relationship was different. That they would always be able to be there for each other. Sometimes work and timezones made it difficult, they knew that, so in the end none of them was ever mad in situations like that, even though it could be frustrating at times.

She nodded and gave Niall a reassuring smile, but didn’t say anything on the topic. “What are you working on? You’ve been in the studio quite a bit lately, making an album after all?”

“Um.. Don’t know yet, really. Just kinda working, seeing where it’ll go.” He was looking away, his hand going to the back of his neck, almost like he was nervous, which made Lucy frown. It was an innocent question, usually he wouldn’t shut up if he had a good session, playing her the track or sharing some of the lyrics. She knew he wasn’t sure yet what he wanted to do right now, not necessarily ready for another album and tour, so maybe it was just that making him a bit anxious.

“Well it certainly looks like fun,” she said easily, her face breaking out into a smile remembering the picture she got sent earlier. “I saw you recording half naked, courtesy of Louis.”

“Tommo?” his brows pulled together, bewildered. She nodded, which made him clear his throat, his hand going from his neck to comb through his hair. “Yeah, well, um..” he licked his lips before continuing, “we had dinner and I was going back to the studio, so he just tagged along for a bit.”

“That sounds nice.” She could see that Niall got a bit weird about it, for whatever reason, so she decided to change the subject completely. “What are we doing for September? Are you planning to fly down, baby?”

“Umm.. Not sure yet, but I actually don’t think so,” he said nibbling on his fingernail, which she knew was a nervous habit of his. “I have quite a few studio sessions lined up and then things will be so crazy, getting everything ready and doing promo, the event is like three days after our anniversary. It’s too close, I’d say.” There was another Horan & Rose fundraising dinner happening in September. which made Niall even more of a busy man.

“Oh.. okay. I thought you’ll be able to come for the US Open, like we talked, but I get it.” She gave him a weak smile, because honestly, as much as seeing Niall, even through the phone screen, was always so nice, this conversation was not making her feel better, at all. Maybe they were just both tired. Maybe she was getting irritated for no real reason. But it felt like they were not on the same page today, not even close, and that kind of drift between them didn’t happen often.

“Yeah, I know, I wanted to, but some things came up and I don’t think I can make it now,” Niall said, huffing. Lucy wondered if he was annoyed or whether she was projecting her own frustration on him.

“It’s fine,” she cut off the subject, not wanting to unnecessarily dwell on it. “What about our anniversary? Are we planning anything?”

“Well, as I just said, I can’t really fly over to you.” Now she was pretty sure he was actually annoyed. And it only made her feel worse.

“I know, I heard you,” she replied, having to stop herself from rolling her eyes. “But, well, are we just gonna spend our first wedding anniversary apart, then?”

“I don’t know, Lucy.” Wow, he was hitting her with her full name. That very rarely happened and was a sign this conversation was definitely not going in the right direction. “Why does it seem like it’s my responsibility though? Am I the one that has to come to you?” He raised his voice slightly, almost getting mad. He looked away right after his words, missing the way Lucy’s face felt.

“Wait, what? That’s not what I meant, baby. You don’t have to do anything.” She tried to backtrack a bit, not wanting to get into a fight right now.

When he looked back at her, it seemed like his features softened a bit. “Well, it kinda sounded like that. Like if I don’t come to you, you just accept the fact that we’re not gonna be together for our anniversary.” Even though his voice was more levelled, there was still a bite to his words.

“That’s not it at all. You were planning on coming to New York before, I just wanted to know where we stand. And you didn’t even ask about my plans!” She was growing aggravated, but tried to remain as calm as she could, it was not the time to fight, especially about something that was ultimately mostly a misunderstanding. “You didn’t ask if I’ll be able to come home and you didn’t even invite me for your charity event, not one word about me possibly coming. You just assumed I want you to fly to me, while I simply asked if we’re planning anything. Please, don’t turn it into something that it isn’t.” Her last sentence sounded almost like a plea, but she didn’t even care, feeling tired and vulnerable.

There was a silence on the line for a moment, none of them even looking at the other, just taking a breath and trying to collect their own thoughts. When Lucy opened her eyes back up, after getting her emotions in check, Niall was already looking at her, his face noticeably softened.

“I’m really sorry, it slipped my mind, I guess? I’d love to have you with me there, you gotta know that, just didn’t want you to feel like you have to come. Well, would you be able to come home for our anniversary?” he asked sheepishly, his hand going to his hair once again.

“Yeah, I think so. The next thing I’m playing after the US Open is China, which is like three weeks later. I’ll need to get there a few days earlier to prepare, but I could come home for about two weeks. Just in time for your birthday and our anniversary.” When she finished speaking, Niall’s face finally lightened up with a true smile, for what felt like the first time that day. Lucy wondered if maybe she should have started with that piece of information, instead of asking him, but what’s done is done.

“That would actually be perfect, love.”

There were another few beats of silence, during which Lucy contemplated asking a question that she couldn’t shake out of her head, trapping her bottom lip between her teeth, wondering whether she should ask, even though she wasn’t sure whether she wanted to know the answer.

“Do you really think that?” she asked eventually, something in her truly broken by his earlier words, having her biggest fear about their relationship almost thrown in her face. “Do you feel like I just expect you to always come to me?”

The smile on his face was momentarily gone. Even through the dim lights in his room, Lucy could see the apologetic look in his eyes.

“Lulu,” he started, lowering his head in shame for a minute, before licking his lips and continuing, “no, I don’t. You know how worried I am whenever you’re coming somewhere to see me, I hate seeing you miss training or giving yourself less time to adjust to different courts and places, just to be with me. I’m… I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, I really am. I won’t be winning any husband of the year award, will I?”

“There’s some room for improvement,” she smiled lighthardly, her mind a little bit more at ease. “But I’d still take you over any other possible husband.”

He laughed at that, his very own belly laugh that was so him, it made her eyes water. She missed him. It was the magic of their relationship, never truly fighting, trying to resolve issues as soon as possible. And once they did, they just went back to normal right away, no tension left between them.

“I love you, Lulu,” he said, his voice longing. “And I’m sorry, truly. I think I’ve just misunderstood you. It’s hard to read you correctly through the phone all the time. And to be honest, I’m just tired and I miss you.”

It wasn’t even that long since they’ve seen each other, less than three weeks since she played at Wimbledon. But she missed him after weeks apart and she missed him after a few hours, just the same.

“I’m sorry too,” Lucy said, not willing to put all the blame on him. “I think I should just go to sleep, I had a shit day,” she huffed. It wasn’t even that late, but she was tired, both physically and mentally, so maybe it was best to just put an end to this day.

“Because of the match? Or something more?” Niall asked, concerned.

“Well, yeah, but it’s not even about losing, just…” she sighed, not even wanting to think about what happened, but also feeling the need to share with her husband. “It was a tough one, hard battle, and I don’t think I played well, my backhand was non-fucking-exsisting.” She could still feel the frustration from the match cursing through her veins, making her irritated again. “And on top of that, my knee is acting up, because I twisted it a bit, I misstepped in the middle of the second set and it hurts like a bitch still.”

“What? Are you okay?” It only took a second for Niall to panic, trying to examine her body, even though he saw only a small part of it, not even anywhere near her knee. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“It’s gonna be alright,” she assured, “but I had to withdraw from Montreal to give it some rest. It sucks.”

“I’m so sorry, Lulu,” he said earnestly. A second after, his brows furrowed in thought. “But wait, you said it happened in the second set? Didn’t you win that one?”

She laughed. “Yeah, I did. But the third one was a disaster, I don’t even wanna talk about it anymore. It’s enough that I’m gonna have to relive it one more time for training and learning.”

“Where are you going next, then?”

“I’m gonna fly to Cincinnati, rest up and start training there. I have a week, so it doesn’t make sense to fly home for a day or two.”

He sighed, “Yeah, I get it. Okay, let’s go to bed, we could both use some sleep. Do you want to stay on?” he asked. It was something they didn’t do very often, time zones and different working hours making it impossible, but sometimes they liked to stay on skype, putting their laptops on the other pillow and having that smallest resemblance of falling asleep together.

“Yes, please,” she said, warmth spilling inside her body just at the suggestion, her husband always knowing what she needs.

They both just got up to move to the bedroom or bathroom, not even contemplating ending the call, going through their routines, but staying connected, enjoying the simplicity and intimacy, even through the phone.

September 2024

The second day she was home after the US Open, Lucy woke Niall up at the unholy hour of five in the morning. He was not happy, but his wife was the only person he could forgive such an atrocity. She was something else, waiting with breakfast on the table, ordering him to get into a car right after, having packed their bags and being very secretive.

“Love, what is going on? Come on, I need to know where we’re going,” he whined. He was the one driving, but so far she’s been just giving him directions.

She gave him a big smile, her hand resting on his tight, feeling the heat radiating from his body. “Okay, okay. Well, as it is your birthday tomorrow, I’ve got a little surprise,” she smiled wickedly. When he raised his brows, she continued, “As we said we wanna do more road trips, I’ve decided we’ll go to our little house for a small vacation, celebrate your birthday and our anniversary, before coming back on Thursday.” Niall opened his mouth to protest, but she gave his leg a squeeze to stop him. “Don’t worry, I spoke to Aisha and Justin, they got it all under control, they’ll call if they’ll need anything from you. Sorry to break it to you, baby, but it turns out you’re not irreplaceable after all.”

“Well, I just hope I’m irreplaceable to you,” he gave her a grin, reaching for her hand to plant a kiss on her fingers.

They bought a cottage in Ireland at the end of last year, just like they planned on their honeymoon. It was an hour and a half outside of Dublin, hidden away from prying eyes, a house full of silence and peace, a perfect getaway place.

After they arrived, they had coffee in the backyard, before moving to the kitchen to make dinner, having stopped for some groceries on their way.

“I’ve actually got some news that I need to share,” Niall said, looking over at Lucy who was chopping the vegetables, while he took care of a piece of chicken.

“What is it?” she asked.

“I, um…” he stuttered, halting his actions, but keeping his head down on the chopping board. “We’re reuniting the band.”

“The band? As in One Direction?” Lucy asked bewildered.

“Yeah.” Niall finally lifted his head, his lip trapped between his teeth. She didn’t understand why he seemed so nervous. It was good news, right?

“Baby!” She put the knife down to go and hug him. “That’s amazing! How did it happen? I want the whole story! What’s the plan?” She was so excited, she couldn’t stop the questions.

He chuckled, but it was a nervous sound, which she noticed especially when he took a hand from her waist and put it on the back of his neck. “Umm… We’ve actually been working together for a bit now.”

“Wait, what? Just…” her brows furrowed in confusion. She took a step back, her spine leaning against the counter. “When did this happen?”

“Well…” He licked his lips and took a deep breath. This time he wasn’t avoiding her eyes, but he seemed embarrassed by what he was about to say. “Okay, so I’ve met with Tommo and he was gonna go meet Liam in the studio later that day, so I tagged along and we just started messing about and actually wrote something and it just…” He shook his head like he still couldn’t believe it, a small laugh escaping from his lips. “God, Lulu, it felt so good, you know? It just felt right. So we kinda started talking about it, it was a lot of maybes and ‘should we’s and stuff like that… But obviously we wouldn’t do anything without Harry and I was supposed to grab lunch with him that week anyway, which was kinda perfect. So I told him about it and he’s actually started working on his new album, but he was struggling and he agreed to go to the studio with us all and just see what’ll happen. And I kid you not, magic happened. I’d say it took us like two or three weeks to actually write something decent, but it was so fun and natural. We talked more about it, you know, got into logistics a little more and yeah, that was it.”

Niall was rambling, his eyes almost shining with excitement, no sign of his earlier nervousness, a smile taking over his face. But Lucy’s expression was nowhere near as happy. Thoughts clouding her mind, trying to put his story together.

“Just when did it happen, Niall?” she asked, her voice calm, even though her insides were practically turning.

“Um… So…” he went back to embarrassed, maybe even a bit scared by her reaction. “That was in July, remember that photo Louis sent you?” Lucy nodded simply, her lips tightly pressed together. “Yeah, we were all in the studio then, I think it was the first week or so.”

“It’s been going on for two months and you haven’t even mentioned it to me? What the fuck?” She was exasperated now, not even hiding it, her arms crossed over her chest and her eyes cold.

He looked down, not able to handle her gaze. “I… It felt like something that should be said face to face, you know?” He shrugged.

She shook her head. “Two months, Niall. That’s a shit load of time.” Her words were bitter, full of sorrow.

At least he had a decency to look apologetic. “I.. I know. I wanted to tell you when I saw you, and then Louis sent that picture and I got a bit stressed, and I actually yelled at him because of that, but then he gave me a lot of shit for not telling you. Which made me feel super guilty, but it just felt kinda like I dug myself a hole, you know? I couldn’t tell you over the phone then, because why didn’t I tell you right away, if it’d still be on the phone? So I just… I don’t know, really, I waited.”

The fact that he couldn’t even explain his reasoning properly made Lucy feel even worse about the whole situation. It didn’t make sense to her, because she thought after all this time, having as much experience in a long distance relationship as they had, he should have known better.

“We don’t do that, Niall, we just don’t,” she said, a bit more calm now, but far from being over it. “It can’t be like that. It’s such a huge thing, I actually can’t believe you kept it from me for two months. I know some things are just better shared face to face, but we’re in the situation where we can’t afford to do that. I thought you knew better.”

“Yeah,” he said, ashamed, but reached for her hand, like he needed the contact more than ever, just wanting to make it better. “I’m actually sorry about that. I just… I don’t know, like, I think maybe I was scared nothing would come out of it, you know? Because it felt unreal at the beginning and then felt like it was too late to tell you… I made a mistake, yeah, I admit that.”

She let him take her hand, but made no move to get closer to him, even though he did try to pull her lightly. It wasn’t a huge betrayal or anything like that, she could see he was sorry and saw his mistake, but it still stung.

“I.. I think I’m gonna go for a walk,” she said, taking a step away, but he gripped her hand more tightly, not letting her get completely away from him.

“Lulu, please, don’t walk away,” he started, voice and eyes pleading. “I get that you’re mad -”

“I’m not mad,” she interrupted him, “I promise I’m not. But I am hurt. Because I can imagine how excited you were, I know how much the band means to you. And it just sucks that you didn’t share that with me. I would have supported you for those two months, I would have had your back and would have listened to all of your insecurities and worries. And it just makes me really sad that you didn’t want that,” she admitted, trying to explain her feelings the best she could.

“I did!” Niall exclaimed. “I swear I did, it just…” he sighed, taking a step forward, so he was right in front of her, but not making a move to touch her beside the hand he was still holding. “I was just being stupid. You know I can be like that sometimes.”

“I just need a minute, okay? I’m alright, I promise, just need to sort through my thoughts. I won’t be long,” she assured him, stepping up onto her toes and planting a kiss on his cheek.

He let her slip her fingers away and watched her walk away, her back hunched, so different from her usual near perfect posture sculptured by years of playing.

She wasn’t gone long, thankful to the universe for her phone still in the pocket of her jacket, because she did get a little lost. It was about forty minutes later when she returned, closing the door behind her. She was taking off her shoes and jacket, when Niall appeared, leaning on the doorway leading into the living room and kitchen.

“You alright?” he asked, looking at her carefully, as if he was trying to solve her mood, get a glimpse into her thoughts and feelings.

She nodded, giving him a slight smile. “Did you finish dinner?” she asked, the house filled with smells of food. She closed the distance between them, not hesitating to put her arms around his neck, having to tilt her head to look up at his face.

“Yeah, well, that’s the least I could do,” he chuckled, but it was a bit humorless.

Lucy put both of her hands on his cheeks, wanting to grasp his full attention, their eyes truly meeting. She stroked his cheeks gently, rising up to kiss him, their lips meeting slowly, the kiss tentative at first. It wasn’t one of those passionate, rushed kisses that you felt in your toes, but it’s purpose was different, it was emotional, supposed to transpire love and forgiveness, let them both know they’re okay.

“Let’s go eat,” she said when their lips parted, lacing their fingers together and leading the way into the kitchen.

“Should we talk about it?” he asked once they were sat at the table, eating.

She looked at him, swallowing her bite, before putting down her fork for a second and speaking. “There’s no sense to dwell on it really, you apologized and it’s okay. But please, don’t do it again. I know some news are better face to face, but I just want to know what’s going on in your life, always, whether it’s something big like this or the fact that you had some really good food for dinner and it made you happy. However big or small, I want to share those kinds of moments with you, that’s all.”

The walk did not only calm her, it cleared her mind as well. She took that time to consider why she was hurt, what was the worst part of the whole situation, and finally, to get over it, as it was done.

He nodded right away, reaching for her hand on the table to squeeze it reassuringly. “I have every intention to learn from that mistake,” he said earnestly, bringing her fingers to his lips. “I love you, Lulu.”

“I love you, too,” she said, feeling like she could finally exhale, the earlier hurt not completely gone, but significantly subsided. “Can I hear some of the songs you’ve made?” she asked, not even as a peace offering, she was just curious and excited, always loving to hear previews of the things Niall was working on.

“Of course, always. I have a few things on my phone, so I can play you some,” he said, his eyes sparkling again, newfound life in them. He almost always got excited when talking about music, but this was different, she could see it right away, this meant more, the band always held a special place in his heart.

“Tell me more about it all. What are the plans, then? ‘Cause I might have some news as well...” She bit her lip nervously, bringing up something that’s been on her mind more and more the last few months.

“Happy news?” he asked, brows raised in surprise.

She hummed, “hopefully, yeah.”

“Wait, oh shit, are you pregnant?” Niall’s expression was one she couldn’t read completely, one of shock, definitely, but there was something else too.

“Nooooo, no, that’s not it,” she said right away, laughing a bit that this was his first though, but it also warmed her heart a bit, his reaction not a negative one. “I, um… I’m pretty sure next year is gonna be my last season playing,” Lucy said, her eyes fixed on her husband, not wanting to miss any clue of his reaction.

“Wow,” he huffed, clearly surprised, probably even more surprised than he would have been if she told him she actually was pregnant. “That’s big news. Why next year?”

“Well, I’ve been saying I don’t want to play for that much longer. I think my knee slightly acting up again was a catalyst to this. I want to leave on my terms, not because of an injury again. And it just seems like the right time. I’m excited for the future outside the court, you know?”

Niall nodded, but was silent for a minute, clearly mulling some things over in his head.

“It’s not because of what I said earlier, is it?” he finally asked, a little sheepish, referring to their July phone call. “You know I’ll come to you whenever I can.”

She smiled warmly at him. “I know, it’s not that. It’s actually purely my decision, what I want and also what I think would be best for me. For us too, but for me as well.”

“Well, you have my full support, always. I mean, it’s a bit more complicated, ‘cause I wanted to join you for like the whole tour your last year, which I won’t be able to do, but I’ll try my best. If you want me to, that is.”

Lucy shook her head at his uncertainty. “Are you kidding me? Of course I do, always, baby. What are the plans for 1D, though?”

“Well, it’s a bit unclear, we need to see the public’s reaction first. But we want to drop a single on the band’s anniversary. Then hopefully an album by the end of the year. And then, if all goes well, tour in 2026. Definitely want things to go slower than we were used to back in the day.”

She nodded, their plans actually aligning for once, maybe not completely, but they could work with that. “I could probably join you on tour, then. If I was done playing.”

“I’d love that.” He had a huge grin on his face. It was an unexpected turn of events, but he could see it happening and although it wouldn’t be how he imagined, it had a chance to actually be good for them. “And I wouldn’t be on a super tight recording schedule, so it should be pretty easy to come see you on tour those last times. Especially for the big tournaments.”

She stood up from her chair, going round the table to sit on Niall’s lap, her hands wound tightly around his neck. “Mmm, I do like the sound of that.”

He gave her a kiss before speaking, “me too.”

Their future was still uncertain, a lot of logistics needing to be figured out, but it was all the confirmation they both needed. They’ll make it work, as always. And who knows, after next year, things might actually be a lot easier for them.

taglist: @stylishmuser @verorax @georgiahoranxx @exoticniall

#1dff #niall horan fanfiction #niall horan oneshot #one direction fanfiction #one direction one shot #niall horan fan fiction #one direction fan fiction #dtl #down the line

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innittowinit · 4 years

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Abandoned amusement parks are the best place for young children (Chapt. 3)

relationships: sbi + tubbo

Fic summary:

Techno, Tommy, Wilbur and Phil have been hanging out at the abandoned amusement park in the woods since they moved in. Techno likes knowing he's definitely alone with his brothers Tommy likes climbing on the old rides Wilbur likes having a place to play his music Phil likes spending time with his younger brothers

That is, until a group of brothers calling themselves the 'dream team' move in down the road. Will the sleepy boys give in and share the park or will they succeed in scaring the new kids off?

Chapter summary:

Techno, Wil, Tommy and Tubbo go together :) chaos ensues

Chapter word count: 2643

AO3

Games were never peaceful with Tommy around, the boy had a habit of creating chaos where-ever he went. Befriending Tubbo had probably been the most he had done to surprise anyone though, nobody expected the loud blonde to bond with the quiet Brunette. What they didn’t know though, was that Tubbo shared just the same amount of chaotic energy as tommy; they were both beacons for destruction, the fact that Tubbo liked his alone time more only made this better since Teachers were keen to partner them up, convinced that Tubbo’s good manners would rub off on Tommy.

Spoiler alert! They didn’t. Instead, Tommy helped Tubbo come out of his shell, all the energy he had kept inside was finally able to be shared with someone and that made him feel great. Tommy loved it too, he loved his brother’s but there was nothing like the feeling of having a friend who you genuinely could be yourself with. Very quickly after becoming friends, they had pretty much become joined by the hip. Not in the same way as Techno and Wilbur though, they were both perfectly fine away from each other, but if they had the chance they’d laugh and yell and play for as long as possible, loving every second of it.

“Tubbo! Watch this!” Tommy laughed as he pulled his friend into his room, pulling out a toy record player. Nobody was sure why but the kid had an obsession with the discs, most people put it down to him just looking up to his big brother and wanting to get into music too. “I got a new disc! Look! Look!”

Switching it on, the toy started spinning the plastic disc around slowly. Anyone older could tell you that the ‘disc’s’ just had little speakers at the top and a sensor that told it when to play the music, but for Tommy and Tubbo, it was incredibly real. The two sat transfixed around the little box as it played the song, Tubbo looking up to his friend with a big grin once it ended.

“That’s really cool, Toms’”

“Yeah! Mum got me it because I finished all my chores without her needing to ask me” Beaming, he popped the little disc out of the player and put it away, sliding it carefully onto the shelf. It was sweet how much effort he gave to things he really cared about, he knew he had worked hard for this and he was proud of himself.

This day just kept getting better, Tommy thought to himself as he heard his brother calling for him, spending time with them was always a lot of fun. “Hey Tommy!” Wilbur chirped while knocking on his door “Me and Techno are going off to L’manburg now if you wanna come, Phil’s still at-”

As he opened the door, Wilbur’s face scrunched up into an expression Tommy didn’t recognise. He bet he would have said a bad word if he and Tubbo weren’t there. It took a minute to mull the situation over but he quickly realised that the sudden drop in mood was because they weren’t supposed to tell anyone about the secret base!

Tommy felt a little bit like a detective, he had been able to figure out what was wrong with Wilbur without even needing to ask. Now that he thought about it, Wil was very good at doing that too, Tommy rarely had to actually ask for thing’s if he felt sleepy or sick. He wondered why Wil was so good at that. Maybe grown ups were just better at those things, he couldn’t wait till he was 13 too.

“Aw c’mon Wil, Tubbo’s good at keeping secrets! Let’s go! Let’s go!” The boy sprung up and hopped over to Wilbur, tugging on his arm as he tried to convince him. It didn’t seem to be working. Wil shook him off and folded his arms, an exasperated sigh leaving his lips.

“Tommy, it’s a secret for a reason-”

“Tubbo can join in on the secret! Please Wil! You like Tubbo!”

Wilbur shook his head and sighed, glancing to Techno, who seemed to be standing outside the door, for confirmation on what he should do.

“Okay fine. But you can’t start going off there on your own, you still need one of us to take you okay?”

Tommy nodded excitedly and ran back to Tubbo, grabbing him by the arm and pulling him up, the poor boy still not knowing what was going on.

“Tommy?” Tubbo questioned, eyebrows perking up as he grinned, even in his absolute confusion he was still happy, because Tommy was happy, and that meant something good was happening.

“We’re going to the secret base Tubbo!” Tommy practically yelled it as he ran downstairs, tugging Tubbo along with him. “We’re going and it’s going to be so fun! I’ll show you all my favourite spots! But you need to promise that you won't tell anyone, not never! Ever never” His seven year old grammar skills weren't the best but at least he got his point across.

The duo sat at the bottom of the stairs, giggling and chatting as they got their shoes on. Recently Tommy had got some good white ones with a red cap on the toes, he thought they looked amazing; the best part though was that they were big boy lace up shoes, granted he couldn't tie his laces yet but he was still very excited about being so grown up. When he had first got them, he had bragged to Tubbo for hours about how he was such an adult now because of the shoes.

After Techno tied up Tommy’s laces for him, the four were off on their way to the old theme park. It had become a habit at this point, a daily routine. If they went all day with nobody visiting it, things just didn’t feel right. For Tubbo though, the walk through the woods was definitely not a habit, it was quite frightening actually.

“Psst” The shorter boy tugged on Tommy’s T-shirt, “You sure this is the right way? There isn’t even a path here..”

“Yup!” Not recognising Tubbos worries, Tommy just nodded and gave him a grin with a thumbs up. He was far too excited to show his friend around their spot.

Tubbo nodded.

After a ten minute walk through the woods, Tommy running and skipping the entire way, Techno and Wilbur having some kind of silent conversation with their eyes, and Tubbo silently panicking about the possibility of getting lost in the trees, they made it to L’manburg.

Overgrown as ever, sign large and rusted, it stood tall among the nature surrounding it. Tommy was the first to sprint over to the entrance, Tubbo’s hand clasped in his own as he pulled him along. It didn’t take long for Tubbo to become just as excited as Tommy was as he looked around. A whole amusement park, just for them. Any kid would have jumped at the chance.

“I know all the best spots! C’mon C’mon I’ll show you!”

And just like that, the two boys had run off to explore the park. Neither Wilbur or Techno saw any reason to go after them, Tommy knew his way around and he knew which places were stable enough to climb on, what they didn’t consider was that Phil was usually around to make sure he didn’t climb too high and get hurt.

====

Tommy led the way, most coasters had a path of steps up to the first big drop, he supposed that was for maintenance. It didn’t matter much now though, to him it was all a big climbing frame.

“Tommy this doesn’t seem safe, do your brothers usually let you go up this high”

Tommy just nodded and climbed higher, loving the feeling of wind in his hair as he looked down and saw the whole park, he could even see Techno and Wil sitting in the old pool as usual, he wondered what they were talking about.

“Do you know how to monkey bar Tub?” Tommy smiled as he sat down where the steps ended, he felt the presence of his friend sitting down next to him. He didn’t want to scare Tubbo but he really wanted to show him the best spot. Not even his brother’s had seen this since they were all too heavy to climb up here, he wanted to share his spot with someone.

Tubbo nodded, grinning a little as he looked down, he was still nervous but Tommy seemed to know this place well. Plus! He could monkey bar very well.

When he looked beneath them, he saw some murky looking water, this place must have been abandoned a long time ago because a considerable amount of it seemed to be flooded beyond repair. For a moment Tubbo wondered what kind of animals had overtaken that section and then he shook his head, deciding that it didn’t matter and he was good at monkey bars so he shouldn’t need to think about it.

“Hmm okay” Tommy smiled, swinging his legs back and forth, like he was on a swing “Okay so you see that big Water tower? You only need to swing a few times before you get to it, there's a loft inside and it’s a good place to hang out. I think The coaster used to pass through it, the loft probably had like spare parts or something though” Tommy smiled as he pointed to the tower, a few metres ahead of them, then to the tracks that they would be dangling from. “Just Monkey bar from the tracks and then I'll help you into the water tower if you find it tricky to pull yourself up.

Tommy went first. Anyone would have told them to stop had they been supervised. This was absolutely not something two seven year olds should be doing. As his small body swung from track to track, Tubbo took mental notes, memorising just where he put his hands. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t scared but he was excited too, this was cool! Sliding himself down on the tracks, he felt his weight shifting between the steps and his hands. Feeling breathless, he moved across the rails, one at a time. Tommy was spouting out encouraging words for him as he refused to look down but he couldn't hear him, he was just focusing on not falling. Eventually he felt Tommy’s hands clasp onto his arms, pulling him up and into the water tower.

“Oh my god..” Tubbo chuckled, crashing into Tommy with a big hug “That was so cool! Tommy you do that on your own? All the time?”

With a nod and a big grin the taller boy hugged him back, Tubbo was good at this stuff but dangling off a rollercoaster would scare anyone.

“So this is a secret? No grown ups know?” “Not a single one.” “What about your parents?” “They think we’re at the playground” “I’ll keep it secret too then. I think this is really cool Tommy!”

…

“Yeah but these super mean boys who just moved in are trying to take it away. Wilbur killed one of them though so I think it’s done now” “Wilbur’s cool”

The boys sat there, just chatting, for hours; Tommy showed Tubbo a couple more places you could get to from inside the water tower but eventually the sun started to set and they knew it would be time to head back down.

Like before, Tommy went first with the Monkey bars, then pulled Tubbo up. The walk down was always scarier since it was so steep, even with so much practice Tommy still felt like he’d fall down sometimes. They made it though, Tommy running down the final few steps flawlessly, muscle memory kicking in as he saw his brother’s waiting for them at the bottom.

Unfortunately for him, Tubbo didn’t realise the only reason Tommy could run this part was because he had done it so many times. The brunette let go of the railing and sped up, foot slipping off the small wooden steps and leaving him to fall through the gap between the rails and the steps.

It wasn’t a far fall at all. It was barely over two metres; it was enough to knock the wind out of him though, and it was enough to scare a child.

The trio came rushing over as soon as he had lost his footing, Tommy crouched beside him, trying to be a big boy and not make a scene. If Tubbo had gotten hurt it would be his fault, he was the one who insisted he came, he was the one that took him up an old coaster. This was his fault.

Tubbo looked hurt. He had flushed cheeks, like he was trying to be a big boy and not tear up, and he had a bloody knee that he had caught on his way down.

“Tech’? You've got some stuff for thing’s like this right?” Wilbur glanced over to his brother, after Wil had thrown a rock at George, Phil had insisted someone carry at least some supplies to clean out a wound god forbid someone got hurt again. It felt stupid that they needed it, Wil knew he should have been more responsible.

After getting a small green pouch out of his bag, Techno crouched beside Tubbo. He waved his arm a little but Tubbo didn’t understand what he meant, he knew about Techno’s problems with talking, Tommy had told him about it, but he had never bothered to try and learn how to read him. It was just too hard to try and understand all the different things, they could be so subtle and mean something else entirely.

Techno furrowed his eyebrows, was he mad? Then he waved his arm again and pointed to Tubbo’s knee. Still not understanding, Tubbo started to get a little upset; he felt incredibly guilty for this, he shouldn't have been reckless, now Techno was trying to help him and he couldn’t even understand him.

“Stick your leg out Tubster” Wilbur hummed, sitting on the opposite side of him and pulling Tommy into his lap, half because the boy was usually getting tired by now and half because he wouldn’t stop moving around and tugging at Tubbo, which he was sure would make Techno’s job harder.

Thankfully, Tommy didn’t put up a fight, he just leaned his head on Wilbur’s chest and watched the scene take place. Wil couldn’t help but wonder what he did all day that tired him out so much.

Techno carried on, carefully dabbing at the cut with some kind of alcohol Phil had given to him. He made another motion and Tubbo looked straight to Wil, feeling a little embarrassed that he couldn't understand.

“Bend your knee” Wilbur placed a hand on the boy's back, trying to provide some kind of comfort for him since he was sure it didn’t feel nice having to have someone translate everything for you.

With a plaster stuck over the cut, Techno helped him stand back up, looking over him one last time to make sure there was nothing else, before putting the med-kit away.

By now it was getting dark, Tommy had fallen asleep against Wilbur’s chest and Tubbo looked like he was almost there too. There was no doubt that he and Techno would be in trouble for not bringing them home earlier, yet again.

God. Wilbur thought to himself. They really needed to Teach Tommy how to read time, if he kept going off on his own.

----

“Wow Wil, I see you brought one of them back with a bloody knee. Upgraded from throwing rocks at kids your age, to throwing them at seven year olds?”

“Fuck off phil”

#tubbo #tommyinnit #techno #wilbur #technobade #sleepyblr #fanfic #sbi #sleepy bois inc

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a-dot-han-writes · 3 years

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The Mollie and Harper Chronicles - {II} Part I - I Can't See You {II}

A/N: this is a little story I wrote to get some emotions out about my feelings and try to move on from the person I currently have feelings for because I really shouldn't have feelings for them anymore.

For the record, the names in this are fake, and so are the events of the story, but their girlfriend and the boy in my life (as well as my ex) are real people, and this is a real conflict of feelings I am having in my mind at the moment.

I was hoping that by writing out a story based on my conflict because writing stories is what I do best, it would help get my feelings out of my system and help me find an answer and get the emotions out... so far it hasn't, but maybe I just need to give it time.

I actually really like how the story came out, and felt like making it into a little series, and I wanted to share it with people who enjoy reading other people's writing. Hope you enjoy it!

Also, if anyone has advice for this type of situation, please feel free to share... it would honestly be much appreciated.

By the way, if you think you've seen this somewhere else, you have! On my other account second account: 'iloveyousincerely' - go follow me there <3

On with the story! Enjoy!

~~~~~~

I watched them from afar as they walked towards me, and a small sigh slipped from my lips. I shook my head, turning away and heading back towards the house, my heart feeling as if it was sitting in my stomach.

I heard the footsteps behind me, but I ignored them as I continued to walk to the house that belonged to my best friend. I really didn't want to look at them, especially not at their eyes. No, scratch that... I couldn't look at their eyes because those stupid blue eyes would end up making my heart skip a beat.

They must've taken the hint because they never came into the house, and my heart sighed in relief, along with my mind, which was tired of the conflict of feelings rushing around in my head, which was only worsened whenever I saw them.

It wasn't until later that day where my heart and mind had to battle once again, because as I walked down to the basketball court, focusing on the sound of the ball hitting the bitumen road as it bounced, my best friend told me that she had invited them to meet up with us.

My heart instantly dropped to my stomach, and I had to swallow the lump in my throat. I almost lost control of that stupid ball as I looked up from the road to see them walking down their street towards us. I couldn't help but whisper a; "damn it" as I quickly got ahold of the ball again, trying to ignore the raven-haired person who was now walking beside me.

After almost an hour of playing around with the basketball, and playing on the playground, and trying to pretend like I wasn't having an internal battle about my feelings, I couldn't take it anymore. I took one more look at them, and as my heart almost shattered, I turned to my best friend. "I'm gonna go for a walk. I'll meet you back at your house, yeah?"

My best friend protested at first, but I just looked at her, and she immediately stopped... obviously, the look in my eyes told her that I needed this. She offered to come with me, but I shook my head; "I need to be alone."

And with that, I took off, focusing on the way my feet sounded as my blue Converse hit the pavement instead of on the eyes that I could feel burning into my back. I stared at the ground as I walked; I knew exactly where I was going. My tree. I know it sounds silly to call a tree 'mine,' but in this town where I barely knew anyone and didn't know my way around, it was the only place I felt truly safe... so I called it my tree.

I went under the fence and crossed the slight creek and the paddock, only stopping once I found the big tree covered with millions of crawling ants; I didn't mind them, I wasn't scared of them crawling on me... rather, they comforted me, made me feel less alone and more at peace. They gave me something else to focus on.

As I stared at the ants, wondering where on earth they were going and exactly what they were doing, creating fictional stories about them in my head to cure my ever-curious mind, a sudden crunch of a stick pulled me from my thoughts. I felt my shoulders slump as I hesitated from looking up; I knew exactly what I would see... who I would see.

"Why are you avoiding me? I thought we were friends."

I sighed, looking up at them and into their stupidly beautiful blue eyes. I shook my head, not at what they'd said, but to try and gather my thoughts. "We are," was all I could come up with. My words made them frown, and I knew that I'd confused them.

"Then why does it seem like you don't want to see me?"

"Because I don't."

This made them pause for a few seconds, giving me a look of pure confusion with a hint of hurt. "Care to elaborate?"

I swallowed the ever-growing lump in my throat as I grabbed a stick, slowly breaking it into small pieces. I didn't want to explain myself because I didn't know how to without everything spilling out.

"Harper."

They sat beside me on my tree, causing my heart rate to pick up and my skin to erupt in goosebumps.

"I don't want to..." I hesitated briefly before continuing, "because I can't," I finished my sentence, refusing to look at them. "I can't see you because every time that I do, all I want is to kiss you, alright?" My words came out harsh, which hadn't been my intention, but sometimes that was the only way I could get my emotions out, with a sense of harshness and anger.

They opened their mouth to say something, but I quickly stopped them; "and before you say it, I know. Okay? I know." I swallowed the lump in my throat once again; "you have a girlfriend, and you guys are adorable together, and you guys seem super happy, and you don't have feelings for me anymore if you ever did, or maybe that was a misinterpretation, I don't know... but I still have feelings for you, and believe me, I really, really don't want to." My words almost mushed together as they spilled out of my mouth at a fast pace.

I could feel the tears prickling my eyes, but I really didn't want to cry in front of them, so I blinked them back and swallowed the sob that threatened to escape my throat before continuing; "because I have this amazing guy in my life, who likes me for me, and treats me amazingly most of the time, and who doesn't judge me, and who is waiting for me to be ready, and who is single and emotionally available. And a big part of me really likes him... and sometimes you leave my mind completely and all I see is him, and being with him, and loving him... but then somehow for some goddamn reason that I cannot figure out why, you pop back into my mind and just live there, for days, and it makes it so damn hard for me to see him, and want to be with him, and want to love him. As much as I hate it, there is a bigger part of me that likes you, and I have no idea why I still have feelings for you, and I really, really want them to go away because it's pathetic, and it's so unlike me. I mean, I've had feelings for people for long periods of time, but never this long... it's been nine months, and I still have feelings for you. I didn't even have feelings for my ex-boyfriend for this long. This isn't me, and I honestly can't tell you why I'm hung up over you; I just know that I am, and I don't want to be."

I threw the remainder of the stick into the empty creek below. "So no, I don't want to see you, because I can't... because I'm trying to move on from you, and I'm trying to only see himbecause he is good for me." I pause for a few seconds; "but whenever I see you, my heartbeat picks up in a way it doesn't with him, and whenever I see you, I want to say 'screw it' to everything and everyone and kiss you, which wouldn't be good for either of us, whenever I see you... all I see is an opportunity I missed out on and an opportunity I would leap at if I was given a chance. Whenever I see you, I forget he exists." I hesitate for several seconds, mulling over whether to say the next thing that fills my mind before thinking 'screw it' and letting it spill out of my mouth. "Whenever I see you, I wish that you and your girlfriend would break up, which isn't like me either... I never want people to break up. When I found out the guy I liked last year got a girlfriend, I didn't want them to break up; instead, I was happy for them. Even when I found out my ex got a girlfriend within under ten days of us breaking up, I didn't want them to break up, yeah I was pissed, but I never once wished that they would break up. But when it comes to you and your girlfriend, whenever I see you together, whenever you pop into my head, all I want is for you guys to break up, and I hate that I feel that way because it isn't me. I'm not the jealous type, and I'm not the hateful type, and I never ever want people to break up, no matter how much I like them. So no, Mollie... I can't see you, not right now, and maybe not ever again."

I stand up from my tree, my safe place, and wipe the single tear that had fallen from my cheek, starting to walk back up the small hill.

"Harper..." their voice makes me pause momentarily, and a huge part of me wants to turn around and hear what they have to say, but a bigger part of me can't bear to hear what it is that they're going to say.

"Don't... please, just don't. Let me walk away with at least a little bit of my dignity, okay?" My voice comes out in mostly a whisper, and as soon as I finish my sentence, I climb up the hill, leaving my feelings and emotions behind with my tree and in their mind.

#my writing #writing #writer #writers on tumblr #excerpts from my heart #excerpt from my life #aspiring author #author #shortstory #sad boi hours #original story #short story

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afy2018 · 3 years

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Take These Ch. 1

“Take these,” Xavier offered his colleague. He wrapped Svane’s personal journals in twine. “Ask Eliza if you wish to know more about Bulshar… just be careful.”

Nicole accepted the old books then continued their search around the camp. Bodies were strewn around the bloody pass, preserved by the frozen morning and the freshly fallen snow. The remaining Purgatorian soldiers took note of their fallen, carrying them to the front of the jagged pass for the caravan to take. It was the lasting effects of adrenaline that kept Haught from collapsing in the wake of their fief’s mass mourning. By mid-afternoon, everyone returned to the castle, recouping from the previous night’s entanglements. In a weird way, everything felt quite normal as the residents fell back into their previous patterns. De Behr’s men travelled back to London with their minor scrapes and bruises. Doll’s peers seemed to take their time, though as they mourned their colleague’s noble death. Eliza spent her time in the Atrium, the silent heart of the Earp manor recently cleared for usage in the middle of winter. Nicole joined her, awkwardly shuffling through a narrow path of snow.

“How may I help you, Dame Haught?” Eliza inquired, barely acknowledging her presence.

“What do you know of Bulshar?”

“Ah, Xavier told me you’d be asking sometime before I left. I’m surprised that in your training you weren’t informed about his existence,” she continued. “Bulshar Clootie-”

“Clootie?”

“Yes, he’s a cult leader from a prominent family in London who has been executing royal and historical lineages for the past three decades.”

“Is he still active?” Nicole asked, still standing at relaxed attention.

“Very much. He is responsible for massacring many old families mostly in Wales and Ireland. While I was still working in the Royal Army’s special forces, we raided his fortress and found a room filled with various trophies from his victims. We were able to identify eight of the twenty crests.” Eliza informed her. She took a deep breath and asked, “Dolls refused to explain why you were so keen on asking me about Bulshar, so you tell me.”

“I just need to know why his name has come up so frequently in my life.”

“You know, I thought I recognized your last name and colours. The Haughts are an Anglo-Irish family which we believe to be mostly safe from Bulshar’s tirade as the families we’ve identified are Gaelic or Welsh.”

“Does he have any heirs or wives?”

“Most likely yes, but nothing official.”

Nicole’s shoulders slightly slumped at her answer. “If you raided his base, why is he still active?”

“He’s slippery. We’ve lost many a spy by his hand, so when he inevitably found out we were raiding his base, he fled and we still have no clue as to his whereabouts.”

“Any feeling about where he might be? Or anyone who could be connected to him?”

Eliza reflected for a short while and said, “If you find Robert Svane he would know the most… maybe even your friend John Henry Holliday?’

“Why would John know anything?”

“Dolls told me that he was close to the Revenants, he might know a few secrets he hasn’t shared with anyone.” Nicole shifted her weight to the other foot, relaxing from her attention stance even more before finally leaning against the gazebo. Eliza then warned in a slightly more hushed tone, “Be vigilant and careful about who you share information with, Dame Haught. Bulshar has agents of chaos everywhere. Once you begin to investigate him, you’ll find that you can no longer trust anyone, not even the ones you love.” With that last piece of advice, Eliza lazily sighed, her demeanor completely shifting from just a few seconds before, “Anything else you felt you needed to know?”

“No, thank you, Dame,” Nicole bowed, then retreated to the castle.

John Henry Holliday, that’s who she needed to find. She hated searching for him as he was the laziest busy-body she knew. Nicole scoured the manor, first in Wynonna’s office, then down the Eastern wing, North, then South, but he was nowhere to be found. She did, however, happen upon her partner approaching their room.

“You look lost, Cesario” Waverly teased, wheeling her around.

“Cesario?” she questioned. Nicole couldn’t help but smile at her suave action and pecked her forehead.“I’m looking for John.”

“Oh, he’s playing dice at Shorty’s, currently getting rich at Shorty’s,” she remarked. “Is he in trouble?”

“No, actually, he might have some information about Bulshar…”

“Who told you that?”

“Eliza,” Nicole nodded towards the atrium. She mulled over her words and admitted, “If he knows about Bulshar, you may have been correct in thinking that he wasn’t as trustworthy as we originally thought.”

“Well, if he isn’t trustworthy, then why ask him?”

“I mean, he’s bound to say something true,” she guessed.

Waverly bit at the inside of her lip, “Why don’t you hold off on asking him. Wynonna’s known him longer and might help you prepare to call out his fibs when you question him.”

“Yeah, that’d be helpful…” Nicole agreed, fixing her partner’s St. Michael necklace and shirt. “So, if I’m Cesario, then who are you, Olivia or Orsino?”

“I would hope Orsino,” Waverly assured with a reaffirming peck on the lips.

“Where are you off to?”

“Gary needs help with the survivors, so I was going to get some bandages and salve.”

“How is Paul?”

“He’s very shaken. We had to amputate his leg and now… I’m not entirely sure what’s next for him,” she honestly sighed.

“Do you think he’s glad to be alive?” Nicole whispered.

Held back, Waverly asked, “Why? I’m… I’m sure he is.”

“I… don’t know. I was just curious. What would you do if you lost your leg?”

“I would continue my daily activities. Why, what would you want?” she carefully inquired, reaching up to her jaw.

Nicole pulled away, for a brief moment. “I don’t know. I think… I’m going to go ask Wynonna about John.”

Waverly watched her retreat into herself as she escaped their conversation to hide in her sister’s office for the time being. Despite their concerning conversation, she went along with her duties, collecting apothecary supplies to do her part in the reconstruction of their fief. Nicole found her way back to the office where Wynonna was still penning a letter to the Carlo brothers. She glanced up at her with a weak smile.

“Please tell me you brought something.”

“Just myself, and Svane’s dirty secrets,” Nicole explained, pulling the diaries from her satchel. “Wanna take a peak?”

“I’m a tad busy with the dead and all, but make sure to tell me the juiciest bits,” Earp remarked, going back to her letter.

Nicole sat down in the corner and began to pour over the old journals. There were seven in total and they spanned from 1601 to what would most likely lead into this past week. Svane’s writing in the first journal instantly began mentioning not only his father, Björn, but a cultist mentor Nicole assumed to be Bulshar. His writing was mostly chicken scratches, which made reading too difficult in certain passages. Sitting out of the way, Haught caught the various conversations between the ruling Lady and her citizens. Two of which, Pastor Williams and the local gravedigger Jones, were worried about last rites and proper burials in the dead of winter. It became all too real for her, though; and judging by the side glances she earned from Wynonna, it was getting to the young leader, as well. Earp kept a level head throughout the meeting and dipped into the treasury so Jones could bury the dead before they began to decay.

Once they left, Nicole asked, “How are you?”

“Considering I haven’t slept for the past three days, I lost Svane who’s probably going to attack us again, and this battle left three families with dead kids and another four considerably injured, I’m faring quite well,” she huffed. Wynonna locked them in the office and turned to her friend. “I- was it worth the bloodshed? Really, don’t bullshit me like everyone else.”

“I never do,” she admitted, thinking about her words. “I think it was. You dealt with an old foe who has been attacking and slaughtering your family for the past, what, four generations?”

“Six.”

“Exactly.”

“But was it worth doing that? I was prepared to execute a man. Could I really live with that blood on my hands? I know he killed my sister and father, but was he actually a bad man? I can’t help but think there was another way to do this and now I don’t think we can ever go back. You know in all of the years, the treaties and agreements, disarmaments and land disputes, the Earps have never attacked the Svanes like this,” Wynonna spiraled.

“I think there were only a few possible outcomes to your situation. In his anger and bloodlust, Svane could have changed his mind, but considering the ultimatums he gave you that really didn’t seem like an option, you offer your line and give your people over to a new unstable rule, you give yourself over and he returns to eliminate your issue, or you fight back and rid of him.”

“But I didn’t do that. I could have just killed him right there and then, but… I wanted to make a spectacle of it. Am I as bad as Robert?”

“If Svane were to return in any capacity, what would you do?”

“I would offer an agreement to co-rule over this land.”

“Do you think he would accept that?”

“I don’t know,” Wynonna pondered.

“I don’t know either. For the first time, I feel rather lost. I have another lead to who I really am, but I feel like I’m floating around in the ocean like a bottle with a deadly message inside.”

“What have you found so far?”

“According to everyone I’ve asked, Bulshar is a dangerous man with an ever-growing cult that has massacred many important families back home. He knows Svane, according to the journals, and somehow, there’s a link to me.” Nicole wrapped the diaries back up and placed them in her satchel. “I’m going to take a break, I just need to clear my head. I suggest you do the same. You need to sleep and clear your mind if you plan on leading your people through this.”

“Maybe it’s just insomnia, but I’m already missing Robert. He made living here exciting,” Wynonna joked. “Hey, can you keep this between us? I don’t need people knowing their leader is weak.”

“You are not weak, Wynonna.”

“I feel weak, then.”

Nicole went to open the door, the lock getting in the way.

“It’s locked,” Earp informed her.

“Yup, I know.”

“It’s also pull not push when you’re ready,” she chuckled.

“You ass,” Nicole joked on her way out.

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment!”

“How is that a compliment?”

“Because I have a great one!”

Nicole shook her head with that vibrant smile as she walked down the now candle-lit hallway to her room. The afternoon sun set by her shoulder, casting bizarre shadows into the old manor. In the tranquil building, every emotion began to rear its ugly head. In all of her years arresting, fighting, and inevitably killing, Nicole had never felt so affected by her actions. It may have had to do with the sheer intimacy she had with the people she was not only fighting for but sleeping alongside. Her fears suddenly came back with the dwindling light and she no longer knew how to cope with the losses. Returning to her room, Waverly stood by her side of the bed, pulling up a bundle of bandages and a jar of salve.

“Hey, sweetie!” she brightly exclaimed. “I know you’re going to say you’re fine, but we should really bandage you back up.”

“Thank you,” Nicole smiled, dropping her satchel on the floor and locking their door.

She approached her partner, taking the objects out of her hands to embrace her. Waverly stumbled back for a moment before fully wrapping her arms around her, too. The youngest Lady of the castle clung to her, their hearts being the only sound besides the crackling fire.

She slipped her hands to the back of her nape and waist. “Are you okay?” Nicole let out a deep sigh and tucked her head further against her neck. “It’s going to be okay, whatever you’re worried about.”

“I know because you’re safe.” Haught pulled back enough to regard her deep Caribbean sea blue eyes. Her eyes darted around her features, wishing she had seen them their first time together. She tucked a stray hair back behind her ear and directed to the medical supplies, “Is it okay if we save this stuff for later?”

Waverly glanced at the items on the table. “Oh, yeah, of course.”

Nicole leaned over to blow out the candle, getting tugged down into another chaste kiss by her partner. She smiled against her lips and wrapped her hand around the back of her neck to play with the soft hairs at her nape. Her hands roamed back under Waverly’s jaw before finally pulling away and extinguishing the candle, now the only source of light being from the dim fireplace. She settled back into her place in bed, spooning against her side. Waiting proved more virtuous than she would have thought, even with their first encounter being slow and awkward in the dark.

“What have you learned about your past?” Waverly whispered into the quiet room.

“Eliza told me that his reach is far and effective, so I should be careful of whom I trust,” Nicole nonchalantly answered. “And now realizing that his reach is more permanent in this area than I had previously known, I’m not entirely sure who I can trust here.”

“Well, is Eliza herself trustworthy? What if she’s just making you run around in circles?”

“Well, if she isn’t worthy of trust, then who is? She worked on his case, so if anyone knows the unbiased facts, she would.”

“I’m just saying, his own spies may reach into the army.”

“Hm,” Nicole considered.

“Nicole?” a wary voice called with a brisk knock on the door. “It’s Wynonna, we need to talk. I know you’re awake still so get dressed and come to my office, okay?”

“Yes, ma’am,” she instinctively responded.

“Don’t,” Waverly quietly begged with an enticing kiss.

Between pecks, she chuckled, “I don’t want to anger your sister.” Pulling on her pants, Nicole shuffled around the dim room, taking her satchel with Robert’s diaries. “I swear I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, okay?” she promised with a firm tightening of her belt.

“Hair.”

“Oh, thank you,” Nicole responded with another brief peck as she pulled it in a tight regulation bun.

Haught escaped her room, quietly closing the door behind herself and walking down the candle-lit corridor to her friend’s office. She could hear hushed voices trickle down the hallway, their words completely unintelligible until she stood in the open doorway. Augustine, Seanan, and Gareth the apothecary standing in a semicircle behind the desk with Wynonna twiddling her thumbs in the corner. They all had stern faces, even their local tavern owner’s normally bright demeanor was far more severe than Nicole would have liked. Various situations raced through her head, maybe they were going to send her away? Did they not like her relationship with Waverly? Was Robert already back? Was she getting framed? The last scenario proved much closer to the issue they seemed to have.

“We were told that you got your hands on Robert Svane’s personal journals,” Augustine began.

“Yes, madam,” she confirmed.

“Would you please hand them over, young knight?”

Nicole began to reach into her satchel, then stopped, “Why?”

“Those are revolutionary contraband and must be destroyed,” Gareth nodded. Nicole furrowed her brows at his response as he was chastised by McCready.

“May I please hold onto these? I have some personal matters that these may appease. I swear only my eyes will see these words.”

“Knight Officer Haught, I am commanding you to hand them over,” Augustine repeated with an even more demanding tone. Her dark eyes were like a void, their severity thickening the tense air that already clouded the room. Nicole glanced at Wynonna for help, receiving no reaction to the scene unfolding before her. “There should be no hesitation to my order, soldier.”

“No.”

“Wynonna,” she shifted to her niece with an expectant nod.

She approached her friend, reaching for the satchel until Nicole tugged it out of reach. “Don’t do this, Nicole.”

“What is going on? Why can’t I study these? I just need a day with them, then they can be destroyed,” the young knight pleaded.

“We cannot trust that you may not copy them, Haught,” Gareth ruthlessly explained.

“This may be the only chance for me to find out who I am, please, just twenty-four hours, and I’ll destroy them in front of you.” Seanan glanced at Nicole with somber eyes before looking at his friends. “Shorty, please!”

“Wynonna,” Augustine commanded.

Doing as her aunt commanded, the older sister tugged at her satchel once more, trying to unbutton it to retrieve the books. Nicole shoved her away with a firm hand against her sternum before racing to the safety of her chambers. She heard loud footsteps echo down the corridor, gaining speed and encroaching upon her as Nicole fumbled with figuring out which door was hers.

“Nicole!” she hissed in the darkness. “Wait!” She firmly took her wrist and yanked her from the door. “Stop.”

“I need these, you know I do. It’s the only way I can find out who I am, what Bulshar has to do with me.”

“Stop,” she commanded in a louder tone. Wynonna glanced around their position and whispered, “Find some random journals to burn instead of Svane’s. I don’t understand their significance either, but obviously, there’s dirt in there about the Earps that they don’t want to see the light of day.”

“Fine, but I am not going to hand them over,” Nicole finished, rushing to the other side of her door and locking it. She rested her head against the old wood, waiting for Wynonna’s footsteps to fade away.

~~~~~~~~~~

Nicole walked down the main street, feeling as if everyone was looking at her. She clutched her satchel tightly, glancing at her surroundings to search for John. With the previous night’s concerning meeting, she wondered even more about Wynonna’s reflection if Robert was a purely bad person. He may have ruled his people as a dictator, but were his people or his action in the wrong? Haught pinched the bridge of her nose and continued to Shorty’s inn, catching Holliday playing dice. He and his opponent were playing for peanuts as the mere achievement of beating John Henry was enough to build a good rapport with the middleman. Nicole patiently waited for the game to end to question him.

Beating out yet another young farmer, John turned to his colleague, “Would you like to try your hand, dear knight?”

“I have some other things in mind. What do you know about the Revenants, who are their allies? Who were they as a people?”

“Are,” Holliday corrected, flipping his dice to show the same number of pips. “But this isn’t the safest place to talk about them. I swindled some extra coin, why don’t we share a pint. I think we all deserve a drink for the horrors we endured. What do you say?”

“I would say I need a beer,” she huffed, calling over the barmaid for a round of ale.

“Why the sudden interest?”

“Maybe I feel remorseful for the deaths we totalled.”

“I hope this doesn’t offend you, Dame Haught, but you would be terrible at poker.”

“It does, but it stands true,” she smirked as they were served. “I do, however, think that we may have made a mistake and now I am being scapegoated.”

“How?”

Nicole pondered how much she should divulge before answering, “I spoke with a few of the town's elders and now I may be a target of future harassment.”

“What do you suppose you’ll do about it?”

“I’m not sure.” Haught briefly paused and looked up at John. “I have many questions for you, Holliday.”

“Ask again in a more private venue,” he warned. “That is if it pertains to your initial question.”

“It does.”

“Day drinking, I see,” Wynonna interrupted. “Can I speak with you, Haught?”

“Can it wait until I’m done with this?”

“Yes,” she nodded, plucking the stein out of her hands and finishing it off for her. “Ready to go?”

“Yeah,” Nicole huffed in annoyance. “I’ll be seeing you around, John.”

“I would hope so,” he briefly nodded as a new opponent came to try their hand.

“Did you really have to chug my beer, it was free.”

“Wait, I’ll explain later.”

“I miss when everything was public knowledge.”

Wynonna nodded in agreement as they silently walked to her office where she produced several old novels she had taken from various rooms in the manor.

“Hide Svane’s journals… somewhere and have these ones on hand for when we burn them,” she explained.

Nicole took the stack and asked, “Do you have any further explanation for why your aunt is so protective about these?”

“No, but I really do not want to be on her bad side, and neither should you.”

“Yeah, Lady McCready, is, uhh… fucking scary,” she agreed on her way out. “Thank you.”

Nicole went through her room and began tearing through the various bookcases to hide the real journals. She wrapped them up and placed them under the bed, now going back through their spots to blend them in with the other books. It was an obvious place but hidden well enough that even Nicole knew that she would have to search through the novels to find Svane’s. She popped up from her spot by the bed when Waverly entered, going straight to the wardrobe.

“My dear Orsino,” she called out, making Waverly jump.

“Oh! What are you doing? Wait, you’re sober right? Not playing drunk hide-n-seek again?”

“Sober, yes. Are you going somewhere?”

“Yes, I was going out for a ride, would you like to join me?” she invited, approaching her partner.

“I wish I could,” Nicole smiled, standing back up and pecking her. “But I still need to talk with John, you know, figure out some truths… but maybe another day.”

“Okay, I’m going to hold you to that, then.”

“I hope you will,” she smiled, anxiety finally leaving her system when Waverly wrapped her arms around her waist. Nicole took a deep breath even as her heart fluttered when she glanced down to peck her forehead. “But I must speak with John, so I would love to help you get ready and ride out of town.”

“Is he expecting you at a specific time?”

Nicole sucked her teeth then remarked, “No, he is not, Gary isn’t needing your assistance any time soon?” Waverly backed away to lock their door with a cheeky grin on her lips. “Alright then.”

“Are you sure you need to go?” Waverly bargained

“While I would love to spend all day with you, I really do want to get some answers out of Holliday,” her partner blushed even as she was trapped between the desk, hands still gently meandering over her ribs and chest. Coaxed into another amorous kiss, Nicole chuckled against her lips as she was pressed into the desk again. “Okay, okay, I need to leave before it gets dark.”

They dressed back into their outer clothes, Waverly now dawned in her riding attire. “Just a quick question, because I hate to ruin a moment, but are you okay? You seemed a bit shaken by last night’s… whatever that was.”

“Yes, I’m fine,” Nicole affirmed, slinging the satchel over her shoulder and standing before the door. “I love you, just so you know.”

“I love you, too.”

“I mean it,” she smiled on her way out.

“Wait, I thought you were going to ride out with me?”

“Another time.”

She found her way back through the manor and to the main street, spotting John talking with a young bath maid. Nicole felt a sudden tug on her shoulder, making her wheel around, face to face with the reigning lady of their land. Wynonna had a firm grasp on the satchel, looking up with a weirdly calm demeanor. Haught pulled the satchel back with surprising difficulty.

“What are you doing?�� she questioned with another tug.

“Staging a fight,”

#wynonna earp #wayhaught #waverly earp #nicole haught #knight au #renaissance au #wayhaught fanfic #wynonna earp fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #wlw #lgbt #lesbian #sfw fanfic #sfw

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ddaenghoney · 4 years

Text

chapter eighteen

masterlist link in blog description.

As a successful songwriter, you want nothing more than the acknowledgment that the chart-topping musical pieces are your own creations. But contracts, relationships, and the difficulty of facing the stakes involved head on, keep your mouth shut until pressure builds too much.

Pairing(s): Park Jimin x Y/N, Min Yoongi x Y/N

disclaimer: any characters depicted do not represent the actual personality of the respected idol in real life.

Series warning(s)/genre(s): Chapter-based written fic, Slow-burn relationship(s), Fake-dating, Unrequited love, Songwriter/producer!oc, idol!Jimin, idol/songwriter/producer!Yoongi, friends with benefits, drama, romance, smut, angst, fluff (updated as needed)

Chapter warning(s): physical confrontation as well as mob mentality in that there’s a small group verbally harassing OC in a scene; nothing gets too severe, but the repetitive badgering could make some uncomfortable. OC speaking her mind a lot.

Word count: 6057

if you enjoy please, please let me know!

On weekdays Namjoon’s cafe is generally flocked with business workers in the early morning. An inconspicuous assortment of people walking in only long enough for a to-go order to be acquired before they whisk back out the doors in their commute. With the constant flow and few amounts of people that sit down to chat and relax, you choose it as the location to meet with the leader of a girl group from SoundWave you were quite fond of.

Through a series of overly polite texts, she requested a chat to catch up, and you have a feeling there’s more to it than that. You stir your coffee with the straw, watching the ice go in a circle over and over, while contemplating what the other thing she wants to discuss is. There’s no reason for her to want to wake up before her schedule just to catch up, especially not when her group will start promotion for a comeback at the beginning of the next month.

You have an inkling of why she’s going out of her way, but a large part of you hopes to be wrong. You want to assume you left the artists you worked with with a better image than the one swarming around in your head due to sensitivity. If you’re wrong, it would make you happier, and if you are right you are not sure how you will take her opinion.

“Y/N,” Your head lifts as a voice comes from beside you. Brightly she smiles, removing sunglasses from her eyes and keeping her beret style hat secure on top of properly styled straight hair.

“Jihyo, it’s good to see you.” You can’t help a warm greeting in return, undeniably glad to see a familiar face that you’ve never had a problem with. If the people around the cafe were not rushing in and out so haphazardly, you would even take the moment to give her a hug, but an accumulation of increased awareness lately, causes you to simply gesture for her to follow along as you take your drink. “My friend’s the owner and said we could use this meeting room to talk.”

“This is the place you always brought drinks from then?” She comments as she walks in your trail, giving a sweet smile to Namjoon as the two of you pass him by.

“Yeah,” You nod your head, using the previously claimed key to open the doors. “His coffee’s my favorite. Maybe I’m biased though.”

“I’ll grab some on the way out. I’ve been missing it since you used to bring it for meetings.”

You fumble needlessly putting the keys securely in your pocket, nodding your head at her words as you switch the lights on. Recalling the people-- generally artists gives you a difficult time rationalizing your decision to walk away from the company. If it weren’t for how you were ignored for credit, you really would not have left. Even with Yerin in charge looming over everyone with her calculative manipulations, you could get over that because the coworkers you saw everyday made it endurable. Comfortable.

“I was actually kind of surprised to hear you wanted to meet up, to be honest with you.” You sit in one of the chairs surrounding the table. You leave your glass on the wood where you’re sure to forget it quickly. Jihyo sits a seat away on the same side, simply dragging it out to angle it towards you. “I doubt I’m a company favorite right now.”

“It’s pretty divided actually.” She admits, brushing back her hair from covering the faintest of smiles. “Empathizing or thinking you’re acting insane.”

You bite your lip. Which side of the line she stands on you’re sure to find out soon.

“No one expected the thing with Min Yoongi either,” She laughs slightly, without joy. Ironically. “Who would think he’d put himself out there like that-- get fired because of those songs.”

She doesn’t look at you as she speaks, so the discomfort slipping into your eyes is never seen. Like you expect from the employees of SoundWave, they all still view Yoongi distantly. Granted, his involvement in releasing music with you is still a shocking thing to consider as reality. Moments occur where you still worry if you’ve ruined something big for him, but his excitement about conceptualizing a new company of his own sets you at ease.

“Are you both dating now?”

You look up from your lap, finding Jihyo’s eyes to be tame and her lips curled in a giddy way. As though the conversation really is two people catching up without a more grand issue looming in the background. Accepting this moment of simplicity, you don’t stop your mouth from smiling in return. Your head nods in small, but quick jerks. Still new to telling, but you enjoy that you’re able to say,

“Yeah, we decided to become a couple almost two weeks ago.”

“That’s really cute.” Her words beam brightly like the little bop of her shoulders, finding this news nice. “He always seemed so hard to approach-- I think because of how popular he is, I guess.” She rambles along as her fingers push straying locks from her face. “Then again, I’m sure you both had things in common… Both of you being producers and songwriters and all that.”

Contrasting her initial endeared temperament, the reminder Jihyo’s final sentence seems to instill in the forefront of her mind causes her voice to drift into a quieter murmur. She stares towards your melting drink, a hand atop her thigh squeezing to cause wrinkles in the denim she wears.

Finding her remaining silent, you do nothing to fill in the gap with words. Instead, your eyes remain on her, realizing that Jihyo likely means to say whatever is pressuring her shoulders. Her mouth opens slowly, a word apparently clinging to her conscious and away from being said, but she manages to shove the thought out entirely,

“Are you going to tell everyone about everything you made at SoundWave?”

Your heartbeat feels like it rumbles for a short moment in your chest as she asks. The expression on your face remains poised, and you’re more surprised with yourself that you aren’t shocked by her question than you anticipated. Its presence in the air resembles, to you, a draft. You wish it wouldn’t be here, but you aren’t frustrated. Simply expected this.

Collecting your condensated glass into your hand, you take a languid sip, mulling over a reply to her. Frankly, you find yourself remaining in limbo on the topic. In some ways you want nothing more than to scream about all of your production in songwriting to everyone, but maybe you didn’t need to.

“It really,” Jihyo’s voice chips her phrasing like she isn’t sure whether to interrupt your processing, but she goes on. “Would be so bad for us-- us idols. We,” She stammers as you place the glass back on the table so casually, missing your furrowing eyebrows confused at her suddenly timid disposition, “We never wanted you or everyone to make everything for us, Y/N. So many of us want to make our own music. We didn’t want to take credit for everything you made-- you know my group especially didn’t.”

Your lips purse into a line, spine straightening slightly as her plead completes. Like your contract with SoundWave, every idol you are positive had clauses they should have reconsidered or questioned. Considering the chance of a lifetime in front of the people like Jihyo obviously they would overlook the idea that they would not produce their own music-- most likely satiated with the idea that after gaining experience they would be able to create as well.

You realize this. Undoubtedly, the majority of idols and groups did not ever want to claim your songs as their own, but had no choice other than to do so. Ever since the feeling of unfairness started springing within yourself to receive credit, this factor has prevented you from blindly going to the press with your story. You don’t want to ruin all of their careers.

“Jihyo,” You begin as your fingers curl atop the table, loosely forming a fist. “I don’t know if I’m going to tell anyone about it. I really want to, honestly, but-”

“You’ll ruin all of us!” Your lips clamp shut as she suddenly bursts out. “Y/N, I know it sucks for you-- I really do; but this isn’t about you. This is everyone’s careers!” Your hand tenses further as she groans, rubbing her face with her hands. “Don’t you know how many all-nighters, how many days-off, how much we-- I’ve given up to make it this far-”

“You’ve given up?” You say like a knife in her sentence. Your eyes narrow as Jihyo looks at you with startled confusion at your interruption, her hands pausing from rubbing her neck. “Jihyo, regardless of if I was involved, your schedule was always going to be that harsh as an idol.” Her mouth peeks open uncertainly, but you speak on, “Do you know how many things I’ve given up too? You’re not the only one who pulls all-nighters, and gives up personal time, but at least when you give it up you get rewarded with people knowing who you are, meanwhile I get to watch them all think all the work I put into everything was something you did-- what all of you get to claim you did.”

“I know, but-”

“You never even stood up for me.” Jihyo’s eyes widen as though she can see the betrayal of your statement-- the unhidden spite firing in your irises. “None of you ever tried to change anything. You say you never wanted to do any of it, but you all aren’t ever going to try and change it, are you? Watching me get shut down each time was answer enough.”

“Why should I have to fight for any change?” She shoves her words out in haste, appearing defensive as her arms cross. “If you hadn’t noticed, it won’t work. We all get our careers thrown away if everyone were to find out.”

“Because it’s wrong!” Your words loudly propel you forward, leaning towards Jihyo in your seat as she shifts back into hers. “You know it’s wrong! You’re all lying to everyone and letting me be the dirty secret of the fucking company and I’m just supposed to accept it? I’m just supposed to start over from nothing all because none of you have any kind of guts to admit that I’m the one who made your chart-toppers!”

Concern runs rampant in Jihyo’s eyes, mouth remaining gaped as you stare at her with even, full breaths heaving in your chest. Clamping her lips together, she glances towards your drink for no reason other than to avoid your lingering eyes that blister every nerve of guilt swarming in her mind. Shoulders tensing when she listens to you scoff, she wills herself to remain silent from timid retorts as you speak up once more in a voice barely louder than the sound of the clock on the wall.

“Why is it that I’m the only one ever asked to suffer in silence?”

Jihyo blinks her eyes tightly together, building a wall out of every ounce of strength to refrain from the hollow apologies that she realizes would do nothing for you. All she can do is stay in her bubble, presented on the stage with her members as the image given to them by SoundWave. The liberty you explain a desire for isn’t something she can take hold of, especially if her group’s reputation is smashed to pieces by what you could say to clear your name.

“Y/N, I know it’s never been fair of anyone to use you like this-- to always erase your name from everything you’ve created.” Her voice drips frailty off of words intended to appear sound with reason. Composure is lost on her and you can see it as she talks without reaffirming eye contact. You acknowledge the weight in her throat likely at odds with what she feels convicted to ask of you as well, and it makes you feel sorry for her. “But SoundWave isn’t going to do this anymore-- they’re going to let us write our own music now and credit properly, so it’s over at least.”

Your heart drops like a weight towards the ground, eyes instinctively narrowing at her words. Within moments you feel a tremble ricochet throughout your shoulders, and when Jihyo finally tests a tiny look in your direction you know your reaction is not the one she wished for.

“What-” You stutter out the words, shocked beyond belief that a switch in the company had been so simply flipped. She’s able to tell you this so lightly as if the decision came with ease following your leave. “I,” A ball in your throat feels made of metal, scraping your words into fury as you speak slowly, “That was all I ever wanted from them, and they do that now. They do that after I quit.”

“Y/N-” You stand up cutting off Jihyo’s statement before it begins. Shaking your head, you let out a single breathy laugh as your hands clench at your sides,

“I can’t believe this.” You mutter and start an exit from the room, ignoring the clattering on wooden floors behind you as Jihyo stands up.

“Wait, where are you going?” She asks without the sound of footsteps under her words, and you don’t care to look back as you reply simply,

“Away from here. I can’t take listening to this crap anymore, Jihyo.”

Without missing a beat, you pull open the door and exit back into the main cafe space. Remnants of the morning rush cause a small line to linger along with busy employees completing their tasks. Namjoon catches sight of you as you walk along, but doesn’t attempt any wave of goodbye as he notes the contortion in your eyebrows as you quickly mash keys on your phone. He only bites his lip and continues filling paper cups full of hot coffee.

You have no hesitation in turning left down the street to walk northwards, but no destination is in mind as you do so. All you do is exhale a sigh to release some of the frustration while the repetition of a dial tone vibrates in your eardrum.

“Hello?” Yoongi’s voice rings clear on the other side of the line along with the clicking tone of a car blinker.

“Hey,” You say in response, crossing your free arm so that your hand can squeeze the opposite elbow. “Were you busy?”

“No, just on the way to pick you up from the cafe actually.” He says easily as you nod your head gently. Walking slowly upwards on the sidewalk you have little time to tell him a new location before Yoongi’s voice gently inquires, “How’d it go?”

“Bad.” You say as the news stings like a dagger in your mind. Huffing, you shake your head, “SoundWave’s going to start letting them all make their own music. Credit properly.”

“What?” Yoongi’s voice sounds baffled and you can imagine his neck tensing rigidly with lips frowning at the implication of your words. You nod your head despite him being unable to see you.

“Right? After all the shit they said about it never being possible for me.” Yoongi listens to the frailty of your words, realizing that this news must hurt you so much to have heard. He bites his lips, hands gripping tighter on the steering wheel as he turns a corner,

“I’m so sorry, angel. I should be there in a few minutes and we can go somewhere to talk about it-”

Yoongi’s voice falters away from your ear due to a swift grip on the back of the arm holding the phone. Instinctively, you pull your arm towards yourself as you take a step away from whoever grabbed you. The sole of your shoe presses flat on the concrete as you turn, facing the face of someone you’ve never seen before in your life.

As words scurry around your head in confusion, you say nothing as you take in the appearance of the girl about your height, then your shoulders tense as movement behind her gives reason to look to another. As your focus collects itself you see more than just the two people, but another onlooker further beyond them as well as a person to your side that startles you as she calls out your name.

“What?” You find yourself responding to her call, another step away from the small semicircle they form around you.

“Why are you using Yoongi-” “You got him fired-” “Use your own talent to get a career-” “I bet you didn’t even do anything on those songs. You just want the clout-”

Between the five people, you can’t distinguish whose words belong to you. Continuing rampantly in bursts of ignorant anger towards you, they simply persist onwards. Without giving you any opportunity to defend yourself, all the voices overwhelm your nervous throat and wildly scanning eyes. You take another step away when one becomes particularly enraged as she speaks loudly and her hand reaches out.

Your hand smacks hers away before it can make contact with your shirt, definitively colliding with her skin to make a loud sound that seems to reverberate throughout the avenue. The quiet ensuing is wholly false, but you find it impossible to actually hear anything from them as their reaction consists of even louder yelling at you. Any lips you take a look at are moving and no one reaches again, but you know they want to force their opinions on you with the fury at which they speak.

And all the words you’re able to visualize assert your disgracefulness. In different ways, with strong enunciations you simply are the target of their blame. Everything they don’t know about behind the scenes of all the trouble you’re finally escaping from, they frustratingly paint you as the perpetuator. The reason that all is wrong. “You’re lying to get attention-”

“None of you even know anything!”

Your voice breaks their flow of thundering rage, silencing them entirely by the brutal and unforgiving confidence of your frustrated exclamation. Just like that they’re startled. The fuel of adrenalin leaves them to course through you as you glare in response to their actions. You reaffirm, “Quit blaming me when you don’t know even a percent of what I do!”

One towards the back of the group glances uncertainly at the others, and the one whose hand you hit away takes a step back. Like they didn’t expect you to speak against them. Your hands clench tightly as you remain erect in posture. Eyeing each of them, you find it almost impossible to stop yourself from blurting out every secret you’re obligated to keep for everyone else except yourself.

“What does that even mean?” A guy pushes the girl at the front of the pack aside, storming in your direction but stopping short of contact as you do nothing to evade him. Instead his shoulders shake from your consistent glare that he felt tense in front of. “You’re causing all the trouble!” He manages to fumble out anyways as he works up the nerve to take another step with his arm rising as well, making you begin to move back.

Before contact ever occurs, his wrist becomes clenched within the hand of Yoongi as he steps in between the two of you. A shiver in your spine nearly shakes your knees to a buckle as the sight of his back shielding you releases a wave of worry building in your head.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Yoongi asks lowly, simply throwing down the arm he took hold of as his eyes freeze the man. Disbelieving calls of his name from the small crowd mumble and gasp, clearly overtaken by just the sight of him. “What were you going to do?”

“Yoongi-” You reach both of your hands to clasp onto one of his biceps as he tries to step closer to them. “Let’s go,” His head shifts to look back at you, dark irises tinted with immense irritation from what he just walked up to. You shake your head as you consider what could go on if you both remain, and your fingertips tremble on his skin.“Please. I don’t want you to do this.”

Yoongi turns towards you, maneuvering his arm as your hands fall away so that he can press a guiding hand to your back. He looks back towards the group as you both only take a few steps. Ignoring the cling of your hand on his chest to continue him along, he speaks up with conviction, “If I find your names, I’ll report this.”

He takes no heed of their instant rebuttals as they call feebly out to the pair of you as you walk along. Instead, Yoongi drops his hand from your back to take hold of yours as he believes you’d prefer. Finding your fingers quickly intertwining with his own, Yoongi sighs, squeezing as the severity of what you leave behind catches up with him.

“Did any of them hurt you?” He asks the moment he enters into the driver’s seat of the car. The door slams beside him and your head shakes as you fumble with the seatbelt to get it latched. “Angel,” He shifts towards you, delicately cupping your cheek as your body freezes in response. “Are you okay?”

Seeing Yoongi’s eyes searching through your own for any of the discomfort you should feel is soothing. His palm warms your skin and in that moment you relish in the sensation despite the heat that remains in the air of early fall. The breath in your chest escapes through your lips, and Yoongi’s thumb twitches worriedly against your cheek.

“Yeah.” You nod slowly, overlapping his larger appendage with your own freely allowing yours to grip softly. “Honestly, I am.”

Yoongi doesn’t completely believe your words, if only because he can’t imagine how terrifying being so arbitrarily surrounded is. He bites his lip, head tilting as though to ask again.

“Nothing really bad happened.” You say shrugging your shoulder, and glancing downwards. “And everything they were mad about is completely stupid-- they shouldn’t have done any of that.” The hand you left atop his own, strays to glide slowly up his wrist and resituated on his forearm, gently guiding him from cupping your cheek so that you can return to holding his hand. “They really don’t know anything.”

“That doesn’t give them the right to act like that, angel.” Yoongi’s hand engulfs yours while he talks, prompting your eyes back up to his. You nod your head, entirely in agreement. The sight causes Yoongi’s brow to furrow slightly.

“Can you drive me to SoundWave?”

“What?” He blurts out on impulse, frowning more from bewilderment than anything else. “What for?”

“I want to talk to Yerin.” You say simply, as the reasonings those people threw at you return to your mind, as well as the worries of Jihyo that brought her to plead with you for the sake of her career, and the voice ripped away from Jimin petrifying him from ever expressing his thoughts to you until it was far too late.

Yoongi’s mouth opens to speak, but he stops from doing so. Your eyes give him the answer before he has to vocalize the question. Instead a small chuckle escapes him more similarly to a grainy breath. “Okay.”

Within the confines of the elevator, Yoongi stares up at the growing number as you both go higher up the building. Between your bodies he starts a tiny sway of your held hands, while he squints in thought before finally speaking,

“Not that I think you’re wrong to go and talk to her, but do you think it’s going to do anything?” He recalls his own efforts of very early on in the merger that subliminally requested a change of his image to represent something closer to himself. Just like the rest of the employees who try to escape the confines of narrowly set paths, Yoongi too was swiftly rejected in few words with only an explanation of there being no need to change something that works.

“Who knows.” You say not realizing until your voice comes out that despite the mellow timbre that there’s a hint of timidness as well. Yerin has always been the greatest shadow in your mind for years now. Someone you’ve never been able to stand across from and feel equal with because of her subdued confidence that showered her veil of control over the entire company. “I don’t think I care if it does anything. I’m just over this.”

“Should I wait out here?” Yoongi asks as you both step out of the opening doors. He ignores the obvious shock in his peripherals from the secretary that likely has no way to gauge how to handle your presence in the room. Everything on Yoongi’s side is practically settled, and you have simply been a former employee for weeks now; not supposed to be returning so high up in the building.

“No,” You squeeze tighter on his hand, turning your head to look up at him as you remain paces from the secretary’s desk. You speak quietly. “I don’t think you’ll have to say anything, but having you there would feel better.” You frown as you think that it may sound selfish to have dragged Yoongi along this far only to tell him he won’t actually do much. “You’re comforting for me…”

“Then I’ll go in with you, sweetie.” Yoongi says before gently pressing a tiny kiss to your temple, as you squeeze his hand bashfully. “I’ll cheer you on-- you can give me inspiration for a diss track-”

“Stop.” You smile, bumping your hip against Yoongi and continue the walk to the desk with him trailing alongside you.

Satisfied slightly that he could at least break away some nerves, Yoongi takes in a larger inhale than usual. Frankly he’s unsure of what you plan to say to Yerin, but considering all of the grief instilled on you so far from her, Yoongi doesn’t doubt it could be definitive. If you find closure from this, then he’ll be content with this choice of a blindsiding meeting, but he can’t help worrying that some emotions could create words inciting angry retribution on the side of SoundWave.

Your collected demeanor as you speak to the secretary, along with the full way you stand with shoulders straight and each leg stood with no slouch gives Yoongi something to relax about. When he thinks about one of the first times he interacted with you, an evident difference in your assurance exists. Where you had bumped into him escaping a meeting room, you’re now choosing to cut into any current schedule to speak to Yerin following the public reaction she’s passively caused.

Steadily, you enter into her office only minutes later, never needing to bother with waiting in a seat. Yoongi follows after you simply standing closer to the door while he watches you stride towards the desk. Yerin sits with relaxed posture, though her eyes go from Yoongi to you with perplexity.

“Should I have the lawyer present for whatever you want to talk to me about?” She asks instead of greeting, letting her forearms rest on the wood before her.

“Doubt it.” You say, not taking a moment in your head to consider where to begin. Everything you would like to exclaim to her flutters violently around, so much so you believe her narrowing eyes to be preparing herself for the eventual explosion. You want nothing more than to get a genuine apology to fall from her lips along with admittance that she was wrong to do everything to you that she has, but your calm heartbeat reminds you of the impossibility of that route.

You know she wouldn’t loosen her stubborn tongue to admit anything of the sorts. You could even assume she has no regrets so far. Watching our reputation’s stature diminish for years is nothing but a casualty in her calculations. Needless to fret about it when the product of your fingers has given so much acclaim to the company. All Yerin’s allowed happen is a choice made to receive the most lucrative result. Whatever happened to you is of little consequence.

“Did you ever think what you did to me was wrong?”

Your question’s candor rings softly in the room. Not timid, but somehow resigned. Almost like a test, Yerin believes as she continues to stare towards you without so much as a waver in emotion from the depth of the question.

“You agreed to it.”

“As a twenty-year-old worried about paying back my college.” You swiftly insert the context, shaking your head so as to not let Yerin detract from the severity of her contract in your life. “You know how much of an incentive working at a company like this would have been to anyone in my position. Any student, or young adult just starting out. You used it against me.”

“You could have walked away.” Yerin reaffirms before sighing as she sits back in her seat. “Considering all of that about yourself back then, what would you expect a company to do for you? That was your chance back then to start in the career you want. Everyone starts small; why would there be an exception for you?”

“You came to me.” You say with an even voice. Yerin’s hand curls on the table, visually reacting slightly. “I submitted songs for a contest, but you came to me with a contract. I didn’t see anyone else getting contracts back then,” You cross your arms and your head tilts with your blunt conclusion. “You saw enough in me to seek out a long-term job, and you didn’t want me to leave when I didn’t re-sign. You can’t try to convince me otherwise of that.”

“Of course I didn’t.” She says with a scoff. “I don’t deny you’re talented-”

“But you denied me from showing everyone else that!” You assert as your arms gesture to emphasize your frustration. “In some ways, I could understand you not giving me credit as a new rookie at this job, but I worked here for five years. I have nothing to show for it anywhere because you wanted me to be stuck here for the rest of my career, and you know what? I probably would’ve stayed for a long time if you would have just given me the damn credit that I deserved!”

Yerin remains quiet as you pause to take a breath and collect yourself from the startling rant. Her jaw tightens along with her fisting hands on the desk and shockingly to you, she averts her gaze to the side. Swallowing down any nerves, you go on without remorse as you attempt to hit every point you can,

“Now I hear you’re going to let the idols produce, and give all the songwriters proper credit. Everything you did to me is going to just be me, huh? You won’t do it again because you know it’s wrong-- you know whoever you trap is going to end up wanting out just like me and you’re not willing to take any chances on this perfect company image getting messed up by some songwriter, isn’t that right?”

“Y/N, I’m not the only person in charge of these decisions. There’s a board. You know that.” Yerin says at a low volume. She still looks from you towards a window overlooking the city that you doubt she’s focusing on. She’s in the wrong. She knows it and you can see her silently admitting it whether she wants to or not. But no responsibility claimed.

“When Jimin, Jihyo, and all the other idols here wouldn’t take my side it was because you’re in charge of the decisions.” You say before scoffing, watching her flinch from the sound and turn to finally face you. “When I come up here to talk to you about it, you say it’s because of the board. It’s always someone else’s fault that I couldn’t be helped. You’re the CEO. If you knew this was wrong, you should’ve said something. It’s your job to look out for the company, but it’s also your job not to be spineless and pass blame around.”

Yerin’s eyes widen at the end of your composed speech. Standing up with intent to challenge your words, she opens her mouth with a glower aiming at you, but freezes as your eyes narrow and you take a step forward to stop just short of her desk,

“I just practically got attacked before I came here because people think I ruined a career just by having my name in the credits of his songs.” You coat your words with convicted resentment. “All of my friends are begging me to stay quiet because their careers could be ruined by me saying I wrote so much of their music. I wouldn’t have to be everyone’s enemy-- I wouldn’t be hated by so many people right now if you hadn’t forced everyone in this company to lie in the first place. Everyone wants me to be quiet right now because all the lying is supposed to stop? I’m supposed to be the scapegoat for this company and be the only one to receive all of the infamy for your unethical crap? That’s not going to happen.”

“What?” Yerin’s voice stutters a shocked response on impulse. Her fingers drag against the wood of the desk, evidently nervous by the implications. “You can’t mention anything about your job here, Y/N. That’s in the agreement.”

“Remove the non-disclosure clause.”

Yerin scoffs in pure disbelief, looking past you to Yoongi as he simply remains a spectator. Clearly unprepared for all that you’ve said thus far, but doing nothing to stop you from continuing. She shakes her head as her eyes come back to you. “I’m not doing that.”

“Then don’t. I’m still telling the press.” You say simply as a shoulder shrugs, and you loosely cross your arm.

“You’ll,” Yerin pauses when she realizes her heartbeats acceleration. “You’ll lose all your royalties. We’ll sue you.”

“Sue me then.” You nod your head once, completely unwavering as you just shrug again. “Really. I’ll just drag the suit out. Let you all show your true colors to the public and then we’ll see if you think it’s worth it to get involved in your fail-safe plan when everyone still realizes how much SoundWave has forced its employees to shut up and lie about.”

The brief wave of silence as you finish feels uplifting on your shoulders. Yerin only looks on at you with indication that she doesn’t know what to say to convince you otherwise. You don’t allow her to dwell, simply dropping your arms from their crossed position over your front.

“You made your choice.” You turn on your heel to start a path towards Yoongi, sparing a glance back towards Yerin as she calls out,

“You shouldn’t do this, Y/N! You’re trying to get back at me, but you’re just going to ruin everyone at this company-”

“I’m not trying to get back at you.” You turn to her as Yoongi opens up the door. “I’m not responsible for this anymore. This isn’t my fault. It was always your fault from the moment you made me sign that contract and never planned to change your ways.”

Without another word spoken you leave the room behind Yoongi, feeling absent of regret and restraint in your throat. As though lighter on your feet you exit the company and with it abandoning all of the fear it has instilled on you for years. No plan of avoidance lingers in your head to save face for the greed of SoundWave’s sake, and even though you’re still unsure of coming days, you don’t feel wrapped in deceit.

Upcoming seasonal winds will begin and you have no doubt the frail veil remaining on your image will drift away into the past as you walk into new days.

if you enjoy please, please let me know via ask, comment, rb with tags– however ! i’d just really appreciate feedback 🥺 i hope you enjoy the series, i’m working really hard on it! : )

tag list (send an ask to be added): @jaiuneamesolitaiire @tsvkino-usagi@xionysus @baebyjoonie @honeyoongles @betysotelo18

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movedto-jewishbucke · 4 years

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summary: Following a bad breakup and an overdose, TK Strand starts to reevaluate his life with the help of his therapist and he realizes the relationship with his father isn’t healthy… for either of them. Concerned that he might relapse due to his father’s over-involvement in his life and needing a fresh start, he decides to relocate to Austin, TX. author’s note: this is not an anti-Owen Strand blog or fic

updates: every other Tuesday; chapter 2 will be up May 12th tag list [comment or send an ask if you’d like to be added or removed]: @cupidmarwani

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Something he likes about his therapist is that she never pressures him to talk if he doesn’t want to. Unfortunately, this means a lot of their sessions consist of them staring at each other, waiting for someone to break the silence - like now. He knows what he wants to say, what he has to say, but he’s scared because voicing it to another person makes it more real and means he actually has to follow through. Right now, he doesn’t know if this is something he actually wants because it’s such a big step, but he knows this is something he needs if he wants to get better.

“I think I need to start over.” He lets out a deep breath, because it’s like a weight has been lifted from his chest. TK slowly shifts his attention from the flower painting hanging behind his therapist’s head to her warm brown eyes.

Is it weird for him to think she seems more motherly than his own mother? Maybe that’s another issue of his that he needs to bring up… with a different therapist.

“Okay.” She nods slowly and adjusts her notebook so it’s balancing on her knee, which gets his anxiety spiking but before he can say something, she starts talking again. “What does starting over look like for you?”

In the two weeks he had been thinking about what he needed, he had never gotten into the planning stages. He knows he needs to start over, but he doesn’t know what that looks like or where to begin.

“I just…” He sighs, tearing his gaze away from her, choosing to look outside at the Manhattan traffic which seems way less chaotic than his life feels. “I love my dad,” he says, still refusing to look at her, “but ever since I overdosed, he has been a lot to deal with.”

That’s not entirely true and TK knows it, so does Dr. Cohen because she’s the one who very gently pointed out that their relationship went beyond a normal father-son bond. Why she would point this out when Owen is paying her bills, he doesn’t know; maybe she pointed it out because she cares more about his well-being than her paycheck.

“I know he loves me and just wants to make sure I’m safe.” But he’s an adult with a career, an apartment, a drug addiction, and a codependent relationship. It’s too much to deal with, and now that he’s aware of their codependency issues it’s a lot harder to ignore all the ways Owen violates his privacy for the sake of “protecting” him. “Sometimes, he makes me want to relapse.”

At this, he chooses to look over at her to see if she gives a hint as to what she’s thinking or how she feels about him saying he thinks about relapsing because of their relationship, but her expression is blank.

“What does he do?”

What doesn’t he do? He shows up at his apartment uninvited and with no warning, which is bad in and of itself but it’s made worse when TK has a guy over.

“One time, he went through my apartment to make sure I didn’t have drugs.” This had happened about three months ago, after he had overdosed for the first time in years, and at the time he had made excuses for him and downplayed his own feelings. Now, he’s angry at himself because he allowed him to violate his privacy in such a monumental way, and he wishes he had brought it up to Dr. Cohen when it had happened instead of brushing it off as “not a big deal.”

More recently, Owen has shown up at his workplace which would have been fine if he had at least asked or given him a heads up, but he didn’t. “Before my overdose, he would always show up to my work unannounced and it was fine, but now it seems like he’s invading my privacy.” He shrugs slightly and slowly meets her gaze. “Maybe I’m making a big deal out of nothing.”

“What you’ve just told me are very obvious privacy violations,” she says, flashing him a small smile that is gone as quick as it came. “I can’t imagine anyone who would be okay with these things happening to them.”

TK focuses on a stain on the floor, mulling over her words and trying to decide if she’s right about him not overreacting. “I’ve tried talking to him about these things,” he mutters, seemingly to himself because his eyes are still trained on the stain. Is it a coffee stain? He hasn’t ever seen her drink coffee during their sessions though. “He didn't… he told me he was just worried about me and that any parent in his shoes would do the same thing.”

Maybe he shouldn’t have brought this up because it’s draining to think about, let alone talk about, and he’s starting to get the feeling that she might be judging him. He can’t say she would be wrong to judge him; he’s an adult who lacks any sort of independence from his father and sometimes he judges himself for that.

“Your father is very prone to… ignoring boundaries, as we’ve discussed in previous sessions, and that is not your fault.”

She pauses, taking a deep breath and shifting in her seat, and this gets him to look up at her instead of the stain. What kind of stain is it?

“I don’t know your father but I think he sees his actions as normal, healthy behaviors so when you confronted him, suggesting they weren’t, he chose to double down instead of consider the possibility that he has been unintentionally harming you.” She pauses again and he thinks she’s giving him time to process her words, but he’s not quite sure. “I think your father can’t let himself consider that possibility because based on our conversations, he has made keeping you safe and alive his primary purpose in life.”

He wants to object, to point out that Owen is a firefighter and that is his primary purpose in life: to save other people, not his family. But he knows that isn’t true and hasn’t been true since his first overdose eight years ago.

Instead of commenting on Owen’s other behaviors or acknowledging what she said, he chooses to do what he does best when the current topic starts to be too much for him to handle: change topics.

“I just think I need to start over.” He sinks into the plush chair and pops the string of his hoodie into his mouth, which reminds him he should invest in one of those fidget toys he sees his students with so he can stop ruining his $30 hoodies when he gets anxious.

“Why do you think you need to start over?”

Another thing he loves about her is that she handles his topic changes smoothly and doesn’t force him to talk about shit he doesn’t want to; he’s given the freedom to process his problems at his pace, not hers.

“I love this city,” he states, glancing out the window to watch the traffic again. “But if I don’t leave, I don’t think I’ll ever get a shot at being my own person,” he pauses and looks back at her, a frown tugging at his lips when he says, “or recovering.”

Owen is trying his best when it comes to dealing with all of his baggage, he knows this, but it’s too much sometimes and as much as he hates to think it, his dad threatens his recovery more than helps it.

“You said it yourself in our third session,” he starts, leaning toward her, propping his elbows up on his knees, “we’re codependent.” TK pops his hoodie string back in his mouth as he thinks over his next words, trying to figure out what he’s wanting to say. “We need space,” is what he finally comes up with, blurting it out the second it comes to mind.

For a few minutes, the only sound in the room is the ticking of the analog clock that sits on her desk, and he’s not sure if she’s wanting him to say more or she’s trying to figure out what to say. Then, she speaks.

“And you think relocating is the best way for you to get space?” She sounds skeptical which gets his anxiety going and he starts chewing on his string again, worrying that he voiced the wrong solution to his problems and upset her.

Truth be told, he doesn’t know what to do to get out of this rut he feels he’s in, because every decision he comes up with he feels is the wrong one but moving is the one idea that doesn’t seem bad. He wants to scream but he’s not sure how that will help the situation, so he stays quiet until she speaks again.

“Walk me through it, TK. How do you think relocating will help your recovery, your relationship with Owen, and other issues in your life?” She doesn’t sound angry, she sounds like she genuinely wants to understand his thought process, but he still feels like a child who is being forced to explain his decisions so he can understand how idiotic it is.

“I just can’t juggle my job, my recovery, and a dad who is too invested to the point that I want to relapse,” he says, flinching a bit at how loud he spoke. He wants to scream but he’s not sure how that will help anything and it might just make her kick him out, even though they still have thirty minutes left and the session was paid in advance.

“Everywhere I look I’m reminded of what I don’t have, what I lost.” He pulls his foot up into his lap, picking at a chunk of dried dirt on the sole. “When we broke up, I lost my friends because they were his friends first.”

The only friend he has is the fifty-year-old German librarian at his school, but it’s a stretch to call her his friend because he sees her more as a grandmother figure than someone he’s going to watch the 15th installment of Fast & Furious with.

“I love my students.” This year he’s teaching freshman English and they’re not quite as bold in how they address him like his senior class was the year before, but he still enjoys teaching them. He loves hearing their feedback on each unit and their thoughts on how he should make it better for the next class or year and he enjoys reading their essays on the books they’re forced to read because his students are funny and a little mean.

“I love the Jewish bakery on 7th because they make the best bagels and lox.” He has been going to their bakery every morning before school for four years now and he knows the family quite well, but the most they know about him is that his name is TK and he likes sesame seed bagels and iced caramel coffee. It’s weird, because he knows their only daughter died in a car accident three years ago and they’re raising their 9-year-old grandson, and that Mr. Goldstein went into remission three weeks ago. It’s not because they haven’t tried to get to know him, though. They have, but he has shut them out because he doesn’t want them to get too close or they might realize he’s a fuck up.

“I love my Iranian neighbor.” She was the first one to welcome him with a plate of an Iranian dish he can’t remember the name of and a warm hug when he moved into the apartment complex. When he realized she was alone he started visiting her. Every Saturday, they go to the park to watch the birds then they stop by the market so she can stock up on groceries. She teaches him her family recipes and her language, and in exchange he offers her his company which he knows she appreciates because of the way her face lights up when she sees him. No one has visited her in five years and his heart aches to think that she will be alone if he leaves.

He sighs, flopping back in the chair and focusing his attention on a crack in the ceiling. “I can’t go to the Italian restaurant on 4th anymore because that’s where I proposed.” It’s not like he’s banned from the restaurant, he just feels like throwing up every time he passes by the storefront because he’s reminded of the worst and most embarrassing moment of his life.

It’s not just the restaurant, though.

It’s the spin cycle place where Alex used to go and where he met the love of his life; it’s the Mediterranean place they’d eat lunch at on Tuesday; it’s the bookstore on 4th where they met; it’s his own apartment where they would steal kisses in the kitchen as they danced around each other trying to get dinner prepared, or the bedroom where Alex would spoon him while they watched old horror movies.

If it’s not reminders of Alex and the life they could’ve had if he hadn’t cheated, it’s reminders of his failed overdose and everything he has lost because of it.

“My job doesn’t know I’m an addict.” But they do know he isn’t a good fit for the school and isn’t able to perform his duties effectively anymore, so he’ll be out of a job at the end of the academic year. He can’t blame that entirely on his addiction though; the school has been looking for a reason to fire him since his first year when parents complained about him being openly gay. Unfortunately, he gave them the reason they had been looking for because after his overdose his job performance tanked to the point that his students were behind the rest of their grade and parents were, once again, complaining about him. (But at least this time it wasn’t about his sexuality.)

“I need to get out of here,” he whispers, closing his eyes and folding his hands across his stomach. “I need to start over somewhere new, somewhere I can be independent, somewhere I can focus on my recovery, somewhere I can… I don’t know.”

He just needs a fresh start in a new city where no one knows his name or his grocery list of fuck ups.

#tk strand #911 lone star #911ls #mywriting #fic: new beginnings #i feel bad cause i didn't edit this but i just didn't feel like it lmaooooo #anyway i wasn't sure if i should put this in the tarlos tag or not since this chapter is literally just tk strand goes to therapy :)#mine

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aliensmoothie · 4 years

Text

Borderlands: The Broken Mask

pt. 1

word count: 2509

summary: the inciting action

Fiona approached the run-down building. It was just a small shack out in the desert, in a canyon between two orange rock cliff-faces. It was also where she assumed the person who reached out to her was. As she awkwardly stood and debated whether or not she should just enter or knock or something, she heard footsteps approaching and turned around.

"Sasha?"

and there, walking towards her, was her younger sister (and partner in crime), Sasha. Her sister gave her a smile and said, "Good to see you too, Fi."

"What are you doing out here?" Fiona asked, crossing her arms at her sister, trying to contain her smile. It's been a while.

"Well, someone reached out to me. some job?"

"Huh, that's weird…" Fiona trailed off, looking at the shack, "I'm here for a job too."

"huh, yeah, weird coincidence." Sasha conceded.

"Holy shit-" a voice from behind the girls said

"Vaughn???" said the both of them, turning to face the unintimidating bandit lord.

"Sasha, Fiona!" Vaughn said, opening his arms to his friends "Bring it in!"

Sasha and Fiona looked at each other, then back to Vaughn (still holding his arms out).

As the three friends hugged, Vaughn said "It's been a grip guys, where have you been?"

"Well, it hasn't been that long, right?" Fiona asked. Sasha shook her head.

Vaughn broke from the hug and smiled up at his friends "Yeah, only around a month or something. Still, I've missed you two! I'm not that caught up in bandit lord...ing."

"I've just been taking odd jobs, really, nothing interesting." Sasha shrugged.

"Yeah, same here," Fiona said "but it's good to know that your 'bandit-lording' is still going well"

"Oh like you have a better word for it," Vaughn quipped, "but yeah! The Children of Helios are still together… Albeit in smaller numbers than ever- but still together!"

"So what are you doing here?" Sasha asked, bringing the elephant in the room into focus.

"Oh, I got contact from some guy out here. Said he had a job, and honestly I just needed a break from the stress of bandit life."

"Huh, guess it's almost like old times." Fiona said, evoking a sad smile from her friends.

It's been about a month since the three saw each other, and maybe that wasn't completely an accident. Every time they get together, even after five years, it's hard not to think about their missing team member.

When Rhys disappeared, they all searched like crazy, but after a year of it, they had no choice but to assume he was gone. It was the most likely thing at that point. He may have gotten through some crazy shit, but at the end of the day, Rhys was a middle management coder at Hyperion. It's not like he was particularly well-suited for Pandora.

"So, is our employer home or what?" Fiona said, breaking the silence and turning towards the rundown shack.

"I mean, we can probably just go in," Vaughn started, "but maybe we should knock firs-"

Before Vaughn could finish his sentence, someone jumped down from the cliff-face behind the shack, onto the roof. As the figure landed, they saw that it was infamous assassin and vault hunter, Zer0. And as Fiona, Sasha, and Vaughn stood in awe for a moment, they flashed a smiley-face emoticon on their helmet's display.

"Zer0? Did you get a job here too?" Fiona questioned.

Zer0 jumps down from the roof, remaining silent. Fiona had heard it'd been a while since they've said much of anything, really.

Fiona didn't know why she had really expected an answer, but decided to take their silence as a yes, given the circumstances. "Cool, cool…"

Fiona, Sasha, and Vaughn all look at eachother for a moment in puzzlement. Who was this employer, and why did they choose this fucking wild grab bag of a team.

As they turned back to Zer0 to ask them if they knew anything, they saw that they were already attempting to answer the question, and entering the shack.

The three entered after them, and were faced with who they assumed to be their employer. They wore a cyan hoodie, a brown bomber jacket, and (this being their most notable feature) a pink biker's helmet, decorated with a few stickers, and a cyan 'X' spray painted on their left eye, and a cyan 'O' on their right. Behind them, there is a sizable splattering of blood on the wall, just starting to coagulate.

"Well, you're all here." the person said, in a voice distorted and crackled through their helmet, "I'd offer you something to drink but we should probably just leave."

The four paused for a moment, recovering from the slight whiplash of this stranger's lack of niceties.

"Are you uh- Are you our employer?" Vaughn stammered.

"Well, 'employer' isn't really right. But I am the person who contacted you four, yes." the stranger answered.

"Hold on, you're paying us, right?" Fiona asked, one foot practically out the door already.

"No, but my... employers probably will. I can only assume that's what they want with you." the stranger said, walking towards the door, "Now, if you have more questions- and want them answered- you should start walking."

As the stranger left, the four paused once again. Whoever this was, they didn't wait for goddamn anyone. But either they had no other choice, or really just nothing better to do, because all four began to follow them out of the shack.

After walking in silence for a moment, Sasha said, "So… Who exactly are you?"

"My name is Janus," they said.

"Are you going to tell us where we're going, Janus?"

"To my 'employers'"

"And where are they?"

"Not that far. There's a base near here that we can contact them from." Janus answered calmly, "And in case you were wondering, we don't have to walk all the way there. We should have a ride closeby-"

Just as they finished their sentence, the group spotted what ride Janus was talking about. An only slightly busted bandit technical, parked at the beginning of the canyon. The only issue being, a bandit was indeed in the technical, and as the group approached he began to draw his gun.

"Cool it, Aleks," Janus began "It's me."

And, as soon as the bandit- Aleks- registered Janus, he took a far more friendly disposition. He hopped out of technical, and walked over to Janus to give them a hearty clap on the back, to which they seemed almost completely unfazed (but a little irritated) by.

"Janey! It's good to see ya man! what ya doin out here!"

"A job."

"Oh really? without any cameras on ya-" the bandit began to say, laughing, but was cut off when he noticed the rest of the group.

"Hold on, did Tyreen send you out to get those four?" the Bandit said softly.

"Yes."

the bandit started inching back to the technical "Shit… uh. let me just uh. make a call on my Echo real quick?"

Janus stared for a moment "We need your car."

Aleks turned back to Janus "whuh- uh, no, dude. the other dudes are still fuckin about, and they told me to watch the te---"

Janus raised their pistol, and without hesitation, shot Aleks clean through the skull. They holstered their gun, and hopped into the technical, with the blood splatter still on it.

Janus looked expectantly at the group, and they reluctantly hopped into the back of the bandit technical.

After driving for a while in awkward silence, Vaughn spoke up, "Was that one of yours?"

"huh?" Janus asked

"The guy you shot, Aleks. Does- did he work with you?"

"Yeah."

"Your uh… employers probably aren't going to be really happy about you shooting him, right?"

"No, I actually think they might be somewhat happy with me."

The group paused in confusion for a moment, until Fiona asked "who exactly are your 'employers'?"

"Tyreen and Troy Calypso of the COV- The Children Of the Vault." Janus answered.

"What do you do there?"

"I do the same thing as most everyone else. We... entertain, I guess."

The conversation ended there. The pause left before "entertain" was far too unsettling, and nobody wanted to ask them what exactly they meant.

The technical slowed down as they approached an abandoned Hyperion base. Well, abandoned by Hyperion that is, because in terms of bandits and the like, it was pretty well stocked.

"This is it. We'll head inside, and we can call The Twins from there." Janus said, hopping out of the technical.

The group walked towards the entrance, which had an uncomfortable amount (read: any) standing near it. None of them seemed to acknowledge the group entering, luckily. It doesn't seem like it would get too violent with Janus with them, but it definitely wouldn't be pleasant.

The continued in through the base, which looked to be in fairly good condition, but heavily… "decorated" by the bandits now occupying it. As they went further in, there seemed to be less bandits mulling about, and they finally entered a room that was completely empty of people.

It seemed to be some sort of gathering area, covered almost wall to wall in screens of varying sizes, and a large holographic communicator in the middle, to which Janus walked towards.

They punched something into the small keyboard panel on the side, and looked up, waiting for the call to start.

" -oy shut the fuck up i have a call coming in- oh hey, Janey! How's my number one superfan?" Said (who the group could only assume was) Tyreen.

"I got the people you were looking for."

"Always straight to the point Jan, I'll give you that." Tyreen said, turning her attention towards the rest of the group "Wow… You really got all of them! How did you manage that?"

After a moment of Janus not responding, Tyreen glared, but shrugged it off, "Anyways, I have a proposition of sorts for you four."

"What kind of proposition?" Vaughn asked.

"Well, I'm sure Janey over there has told you what we're all about, right?" Tyreen quizzed.

"Uh… They said you. 'Entertain'? Or something?" Sasha said, almost unsure that that was the right answer.

"Exactly!" Tyreen exclaimed, "And we do it with a skillset that suits pandora- and you four- quite well."

"... And what exactly is that?" Fiona asked.

"Bloodshed, gore, murder- we're the bloodiest goddamn streamers on the ECHOnet!"

At that, most of the group took pause. It makes sense that they'd want Zer0, but the rest of them aren't particularly competent murderers.

Tyreen seemed to read their confusion, as she began to explain, "You all had involvement in the opening of the Vault of The Traveller. That's a preeeetty big deal, it was a vault that was known to be wicked elusive, until you and a few others cracked it. We got ahold of most of those 'others' too, but they weren't uhh… too sympathetic to our cause, or whatever."

After a moment of hesitation from the group, Fiona spoke up, "Well, I don't know about the rest of you, but it's a no from me."

"Same here." Sasha said.

"Yeah, I think I'm good." Vaughn agreed, as the group cast glances back at Zer0. If anyone, they'd be the one to say y-

"No." Zer0 said, to everyone's surprise. And seemingly to Tyreen's dissapointment

"Well, I was honestly hoping we'd get one of you on board, at least." Tyreen sighed, "But hey, that's why we got Janus in on it, this time."

"What do you mean?" Fion asked.

"To make sure you guys don't walk out of here." And with that, the door to the room slammed shut, and Tyreen pressed something on her ECHO device, activating all the screens, showing footage of the same room they were all in.

"Hey brothers and sisters! God Queen Tyreen here, and today we got a showdown between Janus, and our four special guests! I'll be commentating over the stream, but I'll hang up and Jan, and leave the rest to them." She said, and the hologram shut down, leaving just the five in the room.

But Janus didn't have their weapons drawn.

In fact, they seemed like they weren't even thinking of fighting the four of them, despite Zer0 already having their sword drawn.

"I hacked the cameras in this room before I left. We don't have long until someone realizes the footage is looping and comes in here." Janus said, turning towards the back wall of the room, "There's a secret door somewhere around here, help me find it."

"Wait, you aren't going to try and kill us?" Sasha asked.

"No. You four would absolutely kill me. I may be the longest surviving person here, but I don't fight Vault Hunters." Janus answered. "Now help me find the door."

The four looked all along the walls, trying to see if there was something behind one of the screens, which were all looping the footage of the five of them standing there.

After a moment of searching, Janus hit a button on one of the screens, and a small panel of the wall opened up, revealing the outside of the building.

As the rest of the group made their way out of the door, the main door to the room opened up, with quite a few bandits on the other side.

"Shit- I got them, just run!" Janus yelled, shoving the rest out of the door, and closing it behind them.

Just a moment passed, and the door opened again, revealing the room, now painted with exploded bandits, and Janus, who seemed just fine as they started to run away from the building.

The group followed them, and they ran through the desert, hearing a crowd of bandits beginning to follow after them.

"Where are we going to go!?" Vaughn yelled.

"I don't know- somewhere away from here!" Janus yelled back.

"You didn't have a plan!?" Fiona snapped.

"I did have a plan!" Janus defended, "But the cameras were the extent of it!"

"Look, there's no way we're outrunning them! can't we just fight them!?" Sasha yelled.

Fiona glanced over her shoulder, "No way, they outnumber us!"

"Alright, fuck this-" Janus said, and then pulled out a gun, "Just try to fire a few shots while you're running!"

The group did so without protest, as it was really the best option, though the only one who landed any actual shots was Zer0.

"If we can find a fast travel station- we should be able to throw them off!" Vaughn yelled, "Get back to the Children of Helios or something!"

"Good idea! I know one nearby!" Janus agreed.

As they kept running, they approached the entrance of what looked like an abandoned desert town, which had a quick travel station right there.

Vaughn was the first to get to it, and he hurriedly started interfacing with it.

"Speed it up, Vaughn!" Fiona hissed, still out of breath.

"I'm doing my best! I don't use these things alo-"

#*drops this out of nowhere* FUCK YOU #except my boyfriend becayse i love him and he taught me how 2 do the read more ♡♡♡#the ONLY bitch in this house i respect.#my writing #bltb #borderlands the broken mask #borderlands au #fun fact: the name of this au came from that one borderlands three trailer!#maybe one day i will write out the prologue but no will not ♡

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