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sweetestlamb · 4 years

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Stronger Part 4 (A New Day Has Come)

Summary: Mun-yeong spends some time with someone important and a gets a surprise.

Author's Note: Got an annoying comment on this story yesterday and it motivated me to write lol so thanks! Hope you guys like and comments, that motivate me even more 😉🥰 nothing like love to drive out hate! The story is coming to an end unfortunately, I'm thinking 2 more chapters maybe three. If I had time I would drag it out for 9 😂😂 but schools start Monday so there goes my life. Happy reading y'all.

Solitude gripes at her insanity, tearing her apart until she succumbs to the thoughts that plague her mind of her inadequacies and how insignificant she is to those around her.

Being around Sang-tae oppa fills a portion of the void in your chest but his presence only reminds her further of another that she's dreadfully missing, his messages overflow her phone now. Taking a swift turn from condescending to something sweeter and more pleading. It takes every ounce of restraint in her body not to open them, relying on the bits she can see in the previews. Fully turning a blind eye to him is beyond difficult for her, every atom of her being is calling out for him.

She has dragged herself from the car too many times, desperate to run to him and soothe his pain, eager to see what he wants to talk about, maybe just maybe he's ready to apologize and unclench the clamp he placed on her heart that day on the beach.

But.

What if he isn't? What if he wants to share more of his past with her in the hopes that she'll overlook all that came before. In the past that might have been the case, she had been ever forgiving, something that only he was privy to. But his words ring in her ears- one time event, get lost- invading her dreams and taking the place of her mother's floating figure terrorizing her nightly.

Somewhere along the way she realized that she puts him first, his emotions and comfort have taken precedent over her own and when she'd searched what exactly that meant the answer made her head spin.

A four letter word that most humans will experience except Ko Mun-yeong.

She's much too selfish and destructive to be ever love or be loved by another, she knows that know. When he'd finally opened up to her, there'd been a plethora of emotions that clawed to the surface and vengeance had been one of them, it wasn't enough that he was sharing his darkest secrets because of everything she'd been through to get there. It was as if he'd stabbed her in the chest, left her bleeding only to return and patch up her wounds, too much had occurred and the scarring remained.

So she left in the middle of the night, abandoned that godforsaken place, stuffing expensive fabrics in a vintage Louis Vuitton luggage set, eager to escape the dead silence that rang out in the castle without the Moon brothers pumping life back into it.

In the end she didn't go far, finding a guest house that reminded her of that brief getaway with him, she paid for the week and turned off her phone fielding persistent check in calls from Sang-in. Gang-tae hadn't tried to call merely texting that they should talk and it was almost laughable that despite his seeming desperation he still seemed reluctant to go the full mile. Only her deep rooted sadness stopped her from chuckling at her circumstances, what a tragic mess.

She didn't let his current persistence fool her, fool me once shame on you fool me twice, well everyone knew the rest. It was time she stopped looking like a fool. Regardless of what she felt for him she knew that that this couldn't be, he'd been right all along.

I hope I never see you again.

So much heart ache could have been prevented if she'd heeded his warning. So she was doing it now, her anger had fizzled off tempering into bitter acceptance.

He would give up soon enough, that was his style.

The woman in charge of the guest house steers clear of her and the first day she lays carelessly on the bed roll, not even bothering to comb her hair. Simply, being. It's intoxicating and new, her phone remains turned off tossed to the side as she thinks about nothing- ignoring the way that nothing something has deep sad eyes and a bowl hair cut. She's trying to think about nothing and that's what counts.

She has food delivered and it's strange to eat something that isn't a Subway sandwich after all the food Sang-in as been bringing her and temporarily guilt forms in the pit of her belly, he's probably going crazy trying to locate her but she's just not ready. She's still tired. Bone chilling fatigue.

The next day she walks down a dirt road, her long white dress dragging on the ground, dirtied but the thin material allows a passing breeze to wash across her body and she's content, staring at the sky and thinking of nothing. She spots a lone bird sitting in a tree and wonders if all the other birds have left it behind, whether it has nowhere to go and no one to see. Then she berates herself for worrying about a bird, all this time alone is pushing the limits of her sanity.

The days bleed into each other, dawn folding into dusk with watercolor skies and earthy morning dew.

She tries to write but it's hard to get any words down that aren't depressing and she can't think of any morals or lessons besides don't let anyone in.

Then she tries her hand at drawing, a portrait of her twisting a deer's neck.

The guest house keeper asks her if she hates bears the next day and that's the end of that endeavor.

The week is coming to an end and she's no where closer to knowing what to do, maybe it's time to go back to Seoul, leave this all behind like a bad dream.

When she finally deems herself mentally prepared she turns on her phone, pinging and vibrating from all the forlorn messages, sputtering in her hand as she watches in shock. As expected Sang-in has called and messaged and threatened, she smirks at his empty threats, heart slightly warmed.

Ju-ri, Seung-jae, Sang-tae, and him. All their names flash on her screen. Surprising her, as she'd never expect them to notice her disappearance. Much less reach out to her. Strange. But she writes it off, maybe Sang-in had roped them all into it. With trepidation she opens her messenger and responds to one, keeping a promise, with a few presses and a selfie she sends the message and closes the phone with a sigh.

Done.

The next day the clouds are smoggy ash grey in the sky, darkening the skies into something fierce and she pulls on a sweater and forgoes an umbrella welcoming the storm. Electricity swelters in the thick air causing a sheen of sticky perspiration to cling to her skin. She dons a simple sleeveless mini dress and sandals, trekking to the familiar dirt road.

She walks for hours, aimlessly without a care or worry in her head. Thoughts of him still push their way in at times but she's come to accept that as her baseline, once she returns to Seoul he will be nothing but a faint memory of the time she dreamed too big.

The first drop of rain on her skin makes goose pimples explode across her flesh, fat and chilled as they cascade from the atmosphere. Turning her head up towards the heavens she grins bitterly at nothing, her whole life has been nothing but rain, the moment is oddly fitting.

Mud splatters to her feet coating her toes in sloshy brown that slides between her toes, drenched from the downpour she slowly walks back no haste in her movement, steady footsteps despite the speed of the rain as it pelts against her.

The guest house comes back into sight as she meanders to the gate, vaguely remembering that she'd pulled it shut yet the doors now swing open. Blaming that on the rain she steps through, pulling it shut behind her continuing to stride to the steps.

As she hears the sliding door she eyes catch a figure blurry through the watery sheet in front of her eyes, the voice calling her name stops her in her tracks, no longer able to pretend that it's a mirage.

Her eyes aren't deceiving her, there he is. Once again finding her in the rain, except this time she doesn't need to be saved, she'll be the one doing the saving. For them both.

She takes him in, the rain soaking his hair flat onto his face, clothes plastered to his body as he stands eerily still, dark pools intensely taking her in as well.

After the slight hiccup, she continues walking taking off her sullied sandals and tossing them to the side and then she places her hand on the door, prepared to enter and forget what she saw. Ignorance is bliss.

"Mun-yeong."

All he has to say to get her heart pounding like a drum, she screams in her mind. That time spent apart should have made this easier, why didn't this feel easy? All the fatigue that she'd been running from hits her like a freight train crashing through her passive wall.

"Get lost."

He moves to block her way and her rage simmers below the surface.

"I've been worried about you. We all were so worried. You can't just leave like that, why did you go without saying anything?" His voice is wavering between anger and something softer, more human that makes his voice crack on the last syllable.

"Move."

She's not ready to assess what his being here means, what his voice and his concern mean. None of it makes sense and she's going to file it all under: unexplained phenomenon.

"Can't we talk first, please?"

"I don't want to talk." She sidesteps him, reaching once more for the door.

"Mun-yeong let me explain, let me make this right. I'm sor--"

"Shut up. I said I didn't want to talk. Go back you saw me, I'm alive you don't need to say anything more."

She's not sure she'll be able to contain herself if he says anything else, she's already dangling off the cliff. She can't allow herself to fall and burst apart.

"No! Why are you pushing me away? I need you! I told you I needed you I meant that, you can't just run away damn it."!

She stares blankly before her throat croaks and laughter tumbles from her lips. Deep belly chuckles that shake her body viciously.

Then quick as a switch the laughter stops.

Diamond hard gaze locked on his bewildered face before she speaks, "You think you're the only one who wanted? Do you? I wanted you to stay. I wanted you to fight for me, to let me in. I wanted you to see that I was hurt and apologize and mean it. You think a kiss is enough, you think telling me everything is enough after you break my heart? It's not!" Her voice pierces through the cacophonous drone of the rain beating the world, crying its heart out.

He jolts at her pained cries, fingers reaching for her but she immediately moves out of reach feeling naked and raw under his stare.

You broke my heart.

She's shown too much of her cards already, it's too late to bluff.

So she'll take a page from his book.

Throwing the door open and slamming it shut, holding it tight.

He doesn't try to open it. She sighs in relief leaning back against the hard wood, feeling all the fight evacuate her body.

He's probably gone. You pushed him too hard. Who are you to reject him? No one else will ever tolerate you.

Her thoughts don't scare her, just like Gang-tae had chosen his brother and the life he knew she was doing the same, choosing herself and the loneliness she'd grown accustomed to. Why give him another chance to throw her away he was clearly capable of it, it was only a matter of time she wouldn't change. Couldn't change. Immovable object.

The rain falls and falls, washing everything away and making the world anew. She lays on her back wondering how far he's gotten in this downpour. How had he even found her? All questions she'll never get the answers to.

Sleep tugs her eyelids shut as her thoughts swirl until they too fade to black.

Hands held high over her head, she pulls her tired bones feeling the tension melt with each stretch. Gathering clothes to take a much needed bath she carelessly tugs the door open only to jump back when he almost tumbles into her room.

What.

"What? What are you doing here?" She shrieks, avoiding collision by the barest inch.

"Waiting for you."

She blinks at him, taking in his drenched clothes-noting his shivers- and the dark circles that sink into the skin beneath his eyes, resembling a raccoon.

Had he slept outside all night? And if he had was he insane, why didn't he go back home?

"Why didn't you go back? Are you crazy? You can't sleep outside in the rain!"

She blushes at her outburst, slapping a hand over her traitorous mouth. He merely looks at her, she overlooks the tender glint in his eyes.

Stepping forward he grabs her hand, she fights to pull her appendage away but he tightens his grip which contrasts immensely with the softness in his eyes.

Voice like warm honey he answers, "Because you're here and I.....need you. I'm not going anywhere."

The sun shines brightly outside as a new day rises somewhere in the distance a lone bird's call is answered by another.

#psycho but it's okay #its okay to not be okay #its okay to not be okay fic #ko mun yeong #moon gang tae #it's okay to not be okay #seo ye ji #kim soo hyun #I love rain #cackled thinking about that deer

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jafndaegur · 3 years

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Noise of Rain | Chapter Nine

Strange Complex Thing of My Love

Sesskag

°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°-.*°

Kikyo stared at the pale cloth that covered the body. Contour of face and chest, she knew them so well. Their hut seemed so quiet without the carry of his voice and she loathed the fact that it was absent—that silent lay as heavy and stagnant as her pregnancy. Every moment she waited for him to stir, his body to creak and groan back to life. But it never did.

Coming off the battlefield had been surreal, like just waking and finding herself on the teetering edge or both sleep and life.

After the body had hit the ground, Kagome’s Ghost General—that was what Kikyo had dubbed the accompanying dead boy—had fled, Kagome slung over his shoulder. They had disappeared into the mountain. Kikyo at that point had been tempted to leave the corpse there, face first in the muck and gore as it had been dropped. But something tugged at her chest and she found herself wandering towards it. Bow and arrows had been dropped. The horse she then guided with the reins towards the mangled body.

Golden eyes gazed unwavering and lifeless out at the massacre.

It took a lot of maneuvering, and she almost gave up, pain in her belly telling her to just leave it. But something refused to let her hands stay. So after what felt like hours, she managed to cross it over the back of her mount.

Now here they were, four days passed, and Kikyo had yet to burn the corpse. It was fine, she'd cremate it.

Swallowing thickly, the thatch flap to the hut fluttered and she forced herself to regain her composure. A messenger peered in.

"Lady Kikyo, the first sacrifice was burned and his ashes are properly sealed for your use. The second sacrifice is restrained and sedated."

She nodded and waved them off.

Before she could visit the sacrifices, she’d assigned a meeting for herself and the shogun. As much as she despised having to put on an act and beg for aid—again—this next move was necessary. Perhaps initially she’d not expected the need to attack Kagome directly. The girl who housed Kikyo’s soul was a minor inconvenience at best. But the body beneath the sheet haunted her, and the idea of putting the soul to rest with Kagome’s blood sewn through the ground dearly eased her conscience. There was a rabid and ravenous ire that was only sated at the thought of the Edo Matriarch’s end. All things would be righted at that moment, the world would have been corrected. Inuyasha’s death before she could cause it herself would be avenged. Her soul would be properly contained within her own body again. And all of this demonic cultivation, which seemed to unite the demons and hanyou and the humans alike, would finally disappear with the quashing of the Burial Mounds village.

The boundaries set by the world which once separated the three would finally be restored.

She pulled herself away from the hut and entered the frozen and cold world. Snow piled in drifts and mounds, and hoofprints lined every which way—clear paths long forgotten.

A warm outer layer made of thatching was left hanging on the outside of her hut. She drew it over her shoulders and shivered when she realized the lingering scent of Inuyasha remained on it. The desire to pitch it was overwhelming and nauseating, but it was too cold to forgo the extra winter protection.

Carrying a brazier in both his hands, the village messenger from earlier waddled over to Kikyo. Wrapping some of the less-hot coals in a thick cloth, she pocketed some of them, enjoying the warming sensation they left against her skin through the material of her garb. With one more breath of relief, she took the brazier and returned into the hut just long enough to dump the coals and embers of fire onto the corpse’s cloth.

Almost immediately the white sheet caught flame.

She hurried from the hut back outside. “I will be staying with the shogun for at least the next day. When I return, I expect the hut Kaede had stayed in to be cleared and prepared for me.”

“Yes Lady Kikyo,” the messenger bowed respectfully.

Again she hated clambering onto her horse with the swell of her belly. But now more than ever did she need this child. It would help emass the Edo Matriarch’s downfall.

“Ensure the fire does not catch the rest of the village,” Kikyo commanded, nose wrinkling when she caught the distinct stench of burning rot.

The messenger assured her he would keep watch.

Riding to the shogun’s stronghold did not take long. Or maybe it did. Everything felt automatic, as if she were merely doing things from muscle memory. To her the scenery faded and appeared in a blink, only existing in a blur of emerald and opal watercolor until they arrived at the red gates that signalled the fort.

Gatekeepers called her arrival and she was admitted in.

Her audience with the shogun was immediate, and they saw her in seemingly before she could shake the snow and sleet from her outer layer. The meeting hall was warm, lit by sconces and a central fire. She made her way over to the lord her watched her with intrigue.

“You are the Shikon Miko.” It wasn’t a question, just a simple fact.

Kikyo inclined her head and slowly knelt before him, keeping her back rigid despite the pain that pulled at her lower spine. Gritting her teeth, she kept her eyes trained on him—intent evaluate his intentions. He seemed more curious than anything, and that made her scoff. A boy at heart it seemed. Fine, boys were emotional and she could use that to her advantage.

“I’m here to seek your assistance,” Kikyo said. “I’d sought a weaker militia and failed to take down the Burial Mounds or the Edo Matriarch. I need help.”

His posture shifted and his eyes widened with his gaze. “You wish to destroy the Edo Matriarch? That’s madness. Anyone across the state would know that she is not something to be trifled with. Rumor and tell have risen very quickly in the wake of her nefarious reputation.”

“Exactly why we must work together,” making a show of it, Kiko balled her fists and dipped her head downwards. “That demonic cultivator killed the father of my child. I want things righted.”

There was a moment of silence, and as tempted as it was to see the warring expressions wage on the man’s face, she knew to remain still and demure. He had to believe her pain. He didn’t know.

He couldn’t know the pain of being separated from half of your soul.

His voice shook a bit, as if outraged. “The partner of the Shikon Miko must have been a great man indeed. Such a crime should not have happened against such an esteemed person like yourself. We will see these wrongs corrected.”

Kikyo had to force her lips not to upturn as she gave a delicate bow.

---

The wind blowing snowflakes and ice into the flare of his bangs surprised him.

When Sesshomaru landed on the border of the Western lands, he found he couldn’t recollect if snow had permeated the grounds. Time flowed differently for him, and probably more akin to not at all, it seemed like just yesterday he’d delivered lotus pods to the miko for her growing village. Whom had been the main reason for his departure.

Traveling to the mainland had been arduous and taxing, not that someone such as himself would quiver at the journey. But it had taken more time than he’d preferred investigating.

On the mainland, there were more people aware of cultivation. He’d been hoping to find out more about the cultivators who relied on resentful energy rather than qi. Much to his disdain, the few records he found were neither helpful—and the few people who did have information did not carry much.

“Most demonic cultivators are quelled and their disciples diminished before they can spread,” one weary passerby had hissed. “I’d cut ties with anyone like that if I were you.”

The information from his trip had been dry and useless. Either being non-pertinent or things he’d discovered from his own observations. Only one sure-fire thing had been confirmed.

If Kagome did not cease her practices, the resentful energy being stored in both the Phoenix Amulet and drawn-in whenever she used Kangaimuryo, her mental state and her physicality would continue to deteriorate until there was nothing left of her. The unorthodox path did not leave its users unscathed.

He turned his direction towards the mountains that housed the Burial Mounds. Nostrils flared. Teeth clenched. Jaw pulled taut. Ill boding pulled at every direction of his instincts and something told him that if he did not fight now—it would be too late to even flee. Snarling and clenching sharp claws into the palms of his hands, Sesshomaru began his return trek towards Kagome.

The scent of blood loomed faint and stale on the wind.

#sesskag #sesshomaru #inuyasha #sesshoumaru x kagome #au: mo dao zu shi #we're finally getting to the thick of it pt1

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someguyiguess · 3 years

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As the sun set over the river, I struck. The light of the village slowly faded until all the 100 houses were dark and the fishermen had come in from the shore. I pulled out a match, lit a torch, and hoped no one was looking. The bucket in my left hand reflected the light and cast shifting shadows on the houses. I was the only light around, and I must’ve shined like a beacon

With my torch lowered and barely burning, I approached an old abandoned house now used for grain storage. Keeping my torch low, I shifted it to my right, bringing it close to the decaying cedar wood walls. I brought the torch up, almost scraping it on the building. Slowly, the fire spread. Then faster. Then faster. In a thirty seconds that felt like five minutes, The entire wall was in flames. I backed up, admiring the sight. The fire shifted beautifully, devouring the building like the hungry, uncaring being it was. After a few more unending seconds, I could see through the wall, and so could the fire. It reached its arms through the hole and lit the grain. It spread in an instant, flaring up in a blinding explosion hot enough to make me uncomfortable twenty feet away. I watched from the shadows as a few townspeople, startled awake by the fire, looked outside and started rushing to evacuate. I had to stifle a laugh. They would surely remember this.

The fire had grown, and its hunger with it. As it flared up from the grain, it grabbed the nearest house. By then, most of the village had been warned. They rushed to try to stop the fire. I joined them, hiding my smile, as they fetched water from the stream nearby. I filled the bucket with water and ran to the building housing the still sleeping children. I stood outside the door and watched the flames creep closer. Four more houses had caught fire in the time I had gotten water, and it was speeding up. Its hunger was increasing. I doubted that the entire town would be able to satisfy its hunger now. More and more houses caught fire and I couldn’t hide it anymore. I beamed. I’m sure I looked godlike. Holding my bucket like a weapon, the fire reflected in my eyes, my face cold and serious once I regained composure. I waited, defending the building, as the fire approached. When it was a few houses away, the rest of the useless townsfolk had fallen far enough back to see me. Their eyes warily watching me, the unrecognized newcomer, through side glances while still focusing on the fire coming towards them. I charged into the building with an intentionally startling battle cry.

Once inside, I saw one room with nine beds. Three were empty with a woman who I assumed took up the largest bed helping a young toddler. I hurried over to the farthest corner and saw two toddlers in bed there. I picked them up roughly, quickly putting one in each arm. I ran out again and gave them to a stronger looking woman right outside the door. I ran back in again and helped the now waking children out of bed. With the other woman also helping a child, only one bed still had a child occupying it. I went over to the bed with the last kid in it, then had a stroke of genius. I could cut it close, get some minor injuries, really make it look like a gamble. Of course, at that moment the women left the structure. Fate was on my side.

I waited at by the bed, reaching down to look like I was in the middle of picking the child up. After fifteen seconds the fire lit the building. I started fake coughing while I picked up the kid. The fire spread faster than I had expected, it must have spread on the outside already. I started walking hurriedly to the door. The child had woken and started crying. I was startled by the sudden noise from the tiny thing. Such a fragile being, crying from so little fear or pain. I was uncomfortable, actually, it was hot to the point of pain, but I could stand it. After only a moment, I continued with the more important goal, but unfortunately my hesitation nearly did me in. As I neared the door, a wooden support fell from the ceiling. I recoiled back from shock. I hadn’t planned for that. I thought of going out through the windows, but they were all too small for me to fit through. The only way out was through the door. I would get burned, but that might make me look more heroic. The edges of the support were already charcoal, so the fire wouldn’t reach up and burn higher up. I stepped on the horribly hot support and shot over as fast and painlessly as I could. The fiery bed to my right burned my arm. I gritted my teeth, took a couple raspy breaths, slowly built my smile back up, and wiped my hands on the ground then on my face, leaving a smear of wood and charcoal dust. I continued smiling through my pain and walked out, still coughing, but for real now.

I came out to a crowd worriedly looking at me. I gave the child to a short, older woman who was near the house. She and a few other people- much less then I had hoped- tried to thank me. I ignored them. With half the town burned, I walked to the river. I didn’t have time for them, it was in motion, and the next part was the riskiest. I hoped my time observing the town had been enough for me to know how to frighten these brave, dignified idiots. I went in, letting the cold- water sooth my burns and wash the dust and soot off me. I looked to the side and saw a crowd of people still watching me and muttering among themselves. Good. their curiosity will help, It’ll make the next part even more difficult, but I might be able to use it is I play my cards right. I, while pondering my new opportunities, sank under and let the river float me downstream.

As I was passing by the edge of the town, I got out. It was still early morning and the sun had only just started peaking above the horizon. I went back into the forest from whence I came and followed my footsteps. I neared the clearing my camp was inside and approached the fire that had started the burning of an entire town. I sat by it and hung my clothes to dry. The clearing had a makeshift fire near the close edge to the trail. The tees overhead dispersed the smoke, which would hopefully hide me while I rested. The clearing had thousands fractures of light all colors of the sunrise coming in through gaps in the trees, making my makeshift structure look like something out of a watercolor. I went over to my tent, which was just a few brown animal skins draped over two tree branches and a couple of sticks. In its shade there was a random assortment of traveling supplies, a pack of clothes, a hunting bow, a waterskin, and bit of dried and salted food. I took some water and some jerky and went to dry by the fire. I moved some sticks over, sat on the dirt, and stated mentally preparing for what happens next.

-no writing or poetry anon you've had before

ooh this is a great story. it's got arson,, it's got action, it's got arrogance, it's got tension, and the kids got saved. thank you anon I love it, it's beautiful, thank you so much, you should keep writing, your work is a gift.

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lon3lynation · 4 years

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Chapter 5: Ways To Go

Previous Chapter

"Even when I can't see my rearview Even if I call just to hear you Even when I sleep all day (Even when I sleep all day) Even if I work it like I'm times two Living in the back of the bunk just like we do Even when I dream all day

Don't wanna sleep tonight You've got me feeling right I didn't know my name, I didn't know my name

I got a little bit longer, I got a ways to go I got a little bit longer, I got a ways to go I got a little bit longer, I got a ways to go Whoa oh oh (I got a ways to go)"

Ways To Go by Grouplove

5 days and 400 miles of Blue Ridge Parkway later, Lexa found herself in North Carolina. After staying her nights in rustic lodges and taking in the views along the parkway, she was feeling spoiled and reinvigorated in such a way she hadn't experienced in a long time. Over the years, it was all cheap hotels and motels. As long it had a clean bed and a running shower, it was all she needed to get by. It was affordable and temporary which was suitable for her type of lifestyle.

It was breathtaking to look out the windowsill and have mountains greet her sight instead of a parking lot or a wall of another building. It had given her a sense of serenity. Lexa had figured that she was a bit of an urban girl after her constant traveling from city to city. It was the source of her freedom. However, she was quickly learning that being around nature and the sheer expanse of the open land was altogether something much more magnificent. It was pure and natural freedom.

The road trip was already opening her eyes to new perspectives and feelings. It served as a reminder of how much more there was in the world outside of her life. It made her feel small and insignificant in comparison. No matter what obstacles she had faced or how lost she felt, her problems will never hinder the world from continuing on with or without her. Strangely enough, she received a small comfort at the realization. It was up to her on how to deal with her own existence and how to let events impact it.

It felt like an awakening.

Lexa wanted to further open her mind and heart to the wisdom that her journey would surely offer her. She wanted to encounter every one of Earth's secrets. It wasn't humanly possible but she wanted to try and learn what she could in her lifetime. A life filled with adventure and world travel could potentially be her new purpose in life. She would love to visit other countries and expose herself to different cultures. Once she had herself figured out and her past wounds dealt with on this particular trip, she would have to seriously consider her options on what was next for her.

Lexa was getting a little too ahead of herself, though. She's only been on the road for about a week now. There was still a way to go mentally and distance-wise. There was no rush but she knew she couldn't put it off for much longer. She needed to make some sort of progress with herself and take that much needed first step. Hopefully, the first step would be the hardest part and the rest will be bearable enough to proceed through.

The time for reflection of her past would have to wait because presently there was shopping to be done. If she wanted to make the most out of the summer, swimwear and more clothes were a necessity. She had already picked out some outfits perfect for the warm weather and a new suitcase for them. Currently, she was taking a moment to ponder the phone in her free hand.

Turning away from the racks of bikinis, she opened up Instagram in the browser and logged into her long-abandoned private account. She rarely ever posted any pictures on it anymore. Maybe she would start using it again and upload photos of the incredible sights she saw for prosperity. It would be nice to have them along with her memories. Maybe she could even make Anya a bit envious for missing out on a joint road trip together.

Actually, they would have positively driven each other insane if they had gone together. It might have been fun and games at first, but eventually, the lack of space and disagreements on activities would have done nothing but frustrate them both. Anya would have wanted to do something wilder than sunbathing on a beautiful beach or enjoying the views. Lexa would have never been able to do her much needed thinking and reevaluating with Anya around.

Still, she missed her friend and hoped to get in contact again. It was the longest they had gone without seeing each other. With that in mind, she opened up her private messages and sent Anya a text.

'Anya, I think we should meet up again soon. It's overdue. I'm traveling southwest of the US via car. Where are you currently staying? Get back to me asap.'

Lexa was looking forward to hearing from Anya again. She wondered if her mentor would feel a sense of pride in her for doing a successful job of stealing a car for a cross-country road trip. However, she was not looking forward to explaining her phone relationship with Clarke to her. Anya wouldn't understand when Lexa, herself, could barely understand it. Clarke called her every day since she had taken the car and Lexa has gone along with it. It frightened her how effortlessly Clarke was getting past the cracks in her walls. She doubted that Clarke even realized just how well she was doing until about 5 days ago. After she had ventured to imagine Clarke standing next to her to share the view of the mountains, Lexa made certain to be more aloof in her calls with Clarke.

Too bad there wasn't some manual book on how to interact with a stubborn and persistent stranger that was the victim of your thievery. How was she supposed to act and feel in such an unprecedented situation?

Lexa didn't know. She absolutely hated how unprepared and uncertain she felt. Her vulnerability was showing and she didn't do vulnerability. Normally she could predict and prepare for every outcome, but this once she was caught off guard. It unnerved her which was downright irritating.

Clarke was so very irritating.

Stupid Clarke and her unrealistic optimism.

Stupid Clarke and her constant questions.

Stupid Clarke and her cracked blue phone case that was now ringing in her hand.

Lexa glared at the vibrating and ringing phone in her hand. Her fingers gave a momentary squeeze around the case before answering and lifting it to her ear with a sigh.

"Hello, Clarke."

"Hey, criminal."

"Very original."

"What? Is that not cutesy enough for you? How about I start calling you Rebel?"

Lexa scoffed.

"God, no and I don't do cutesy."

"Why? Oh, does it put a damper on your badass rep in the criminal world?"

"What do you think we do? Sit around and share stories about our illegal doings? That we know who's who?" Lexa chuckled at the thought. "The only person that knows what I do is -"

"The infamous friend and mentor, of course. Is she aware of how much you mention her to strangers?"

"No, her smugness doesn't need any more encouragement."

"It's nice to have you taking part in our banter again. I was wondering how long you could resist it."

A pause.

"What are you talking about?"

"Come on, it didn't escape my notice that you've been acting like a dick for the past 4 days."

"When are you going to stop referring me to a phallus?"

"When you stop acting like one which is probably not going to be anytime soon. So, are you done with the whole tightlipped routine?"

"You tell me. Am I?" Lexa snipped.

"I think you want it to be because you sorta miss this but you're resisting because it - or I - make you nervous."

Damn her.

"Clarke," she warned.

"Sounds like I hit the mark," Clarke responded smugly.

"You can't just -" Blowing out a harsh breath, Lexa shook her head. "This needs to stop."

"And now you're panicking."

"I'm not panicking."

She was maybe panicking a little bit.

"It seems like you are. Take another breath."

To her annoyance, Lexa found herself taking another breath and felt recentered.

"You need to stop doing that."

"Doing what exactly? Telling the truth the way I see it?"

"Pushing and assuming you know anything about the way I feel. You don't."

"Your reaction seems to disagree with your words. Why does it -"

"No," Lexa sternly interrupted.

"No?" Clarke questioned.

"No more questions. How would you like it if I questioned you constantly?"

"Well, if it gets you to partake in our conversations a little more. Ask me."

"What?"

"If you have questions, then ask me. At least you'll get a detailed answer from me, unlike a certain someone.".

It was annoying how quickly Clarke could turn things back around on her. Anytime she thought she got the reins back, Clarke would only steal them right back and leave her scrambling like a fool.

"Did I put you on the spot? I'm sorry. Let me help you. My name's Clarke Griffin. I'm 21 years old and I am currently still in college. I was a little lost on what I wanted to pursue career-wise. I could follow in my mother's footsteps or do the opposite of what she wants and pursue art. I may decide on something else one day but right now I'm really digging the art direction I've taken. Is this where you remind me again that I'm speaking to a criminal?"

"No. I think you're well aware of what you're doing." She was beginning to believe she'll never truly understand Clarke and what motivated her to do the things she does. However, she appreciated the shift in their conversation. "An artist," Lexa curiously hummed. "What are your mediums?"

"I draw and paint mainly. Pencil, pastels, watercolor, acrylics. I tried pottery before but the misshapen mug that resulted from it didn't exactly encourage me to continue with it. I still use the mug every morning for coffee though."

Lexa smiled wistfully as a memory came to her.

"Pottery was something I wanted to take on as a hobby after my high school's art class introduced us to it. There was something about the cold clay staining my hands and watching them mold a lump of it into something useful."

"Did you take it on as a hobby?"

"I didn't get a chance to." Lexa sighed deeply as the memory turned into a sad one. "I was so consumed with... Costia, my girlfriend at the time and then not too long later, I ended up leaving what I thought was my home."

Suddenly, it occurred to her that Clarke had succeeded in getting her to share something in return. And of all things to share, she allowed Costia's name to flow out from her lips. The same name she has consciously avoided saying out loud for years.

"That sounds exactly like how a high school romance would be. I'm sorry you didn't get the chance, though. There's nothing really stopping you from doing pottery now, right? It's never too late."

"I move around too much. Maybe when I am settled down somewhere, I'll look into it."

"You should." Clarke gently urged. "I, um, I hope you realize that I am really biting my tongue here. You give me little crumbs of information that makes me curious and want to know more, but…"

"But you're trying to hold back now because I was sort of an asshole about it earlier," Lexa admitted, feeling appreciative that Clarke was trying. "Honestly, if our roles were reversed, I'd be just as curious. I guess I can't fault you for that."

"Sort of?" Clarke joked. "And I guess I can see why you would want to stay secretive."

Lexa lingered silently in consideration before responding.

"It's just that this whole situation with you is pretty unheard of and I need to stay on guard."

"I think I understand, but I promise you that the car is staying unreported. I would like to solve this between us."

"The crazy thing is I think I am starting to believe that." Lexa chuckled in disbelief. "I wanted this road trip to be memorable and I am getting that. I simply didn't expect you, though." Lexa softly muttered. "I don't know how to process you, Clarke. You're an enigma I've yet to solve."

Lexa bit her lip in thought. It hadn't escaped her notice that the tone of their conversation had completely shifted. Clarke seemed to be taken aback as she listened closely to the other end of the call. She scanned the racks and distractedly examined her swimwear options.

"Careful, that sounds a lot like a compliment, I think," Clarke chuckled nervously. "Do you really think between the two of us that I am the enigma here? I'm just some girl compared to you."

"It's important for you to have some confidence in yourself, Clarke."

Clarke laughed, "Oh, I have plenty of confidence, but I am not a badass thief that gets to do whatever she wants and road trip across the country."

"You think I'm badass?"

"Of course that's what you took away from that sentence. Have you always been this sure of yourself?"

"No," Lexa grinned with a small laugh. "It took a lot of practice. I was the quiet little loner in school before I met Costia. She helped bring me out of my shell. She told me to pretend until I didn't have to anymore. It took."

"It took and gave you a humongous ego."

"Hey, now you're exaggerating."

"Nope."

"I'm really not as cocky as you make me out to be, you know," Lexa bemoaned.

"Oh, who is referring themselves to phalluses now?" Clarke cackled over the line, much to Lexa's annoyance and hidden amusement.

"Shut up, Clarke. You have the humor of a 12 years old boy."

"It's still a better sense of humor than your total lack of one, rogue."

Lexa pinched the bridge of her nose and let out a quiet laugh. Clarke's random names never failed to amused her.

I think I prefer rogue over rebel so far."

"It may be my favorite name for you yet. Of course, the one thing that could top it is your actual name…"

"Uh-huh, still not giving it to you."

"Dammit," Clarke sighed.

It made Lexa smile to herself.

Clarke was stupidly cute.

It was truly unfair.

"I've been standing here talking to you while staring at a rack of bikinis for who knows how long now. I should finish what I'm doing." Lexa found herself reluctant to end the call but knew she needed to get moving.

"Oh, okay. Sorry, I didn't realize I interrupted your shopping."

"It's fine. I voluntarily let you interrupt me."

"Hmm, I think you're starting to like talking to me, rogue."

"And you claim I'm the one with an ego?"

"Nice deflection."

"It wasn't a deflection."

"Whatever you say. Hey, maybe you could send me a bikini pic," Clarke suggested excitedly.

Lexa snorted, "You wish, Clarke."

"Well, yeah. I asked, didn't I?" Clarke mumbled softly enough that Lexa nearly missed it.

Clearing her throat, Lexa ignored the fluttery feeling inside her that was suddenly begging for attention.

"Thank you for the call. I think you've given me some things to think about."

"Of course. I'm glad we could have this talk and come to a better understanding."

"We did," Lexa whispered in agreement.

After they exchanged goodbyes, Lexa slipped the phone back into her pocket and heaved a huge sigh of relief. It had started out rocky but Clarke had managed to smooth things out between them. An understanding of sorts had been reached, resulting in Lexa feeling less anxious and guarded.

She had meant it when she had told Clarke that she's given her things to think about. It amazed her that she had actually talked about Costia with someone and shared bits of her past. Granted, she didn't open up about her unfavorable memories yet, but it was still progress. Dealing with her past was one of the main reasons why she was doing her road trip. Crazily enough, she was beginning to realize that perhaps Clarke could even help her in some ways. It didn't have to be all internal self-evaluating and assessing how to repair the damage on her own. She could confide in Clarke about certain things and finally vent out everything she had repressed for years.

But should she?

She was driving a stolen car, putting way too many miles on it, and having phone calls with a stranger. Well, not a complete stranger anymore, but still. She couldn't help but feel torn between wanting to just believe Clarke and wanting to protect herself.

Lexa knew it'd be hard and she was prepared for the challenge. Her gut was telling her to let herself trust Clarke. To let whatever it was they were doing happen without all her walls up surrounding her heart. They needed to be brought down, permanently. She needed to free herself from her own defense mechanisms and baggage.

Shaking her head, Lexa finally moved to try on the new swimwear in one of the dressing rooms. Clarke's suggestion to send a bikini photo was actually tempting. Maybe she could give Clarke a shock when she least expected it and send her one.

Lexa smirked at the thought.

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

Hours later near Nags Head, NC, Lexa found herself sitting inside a McDonald's enjoying a food break. She has plans on visiting Nags Head, the name alone being enough to intrigue her, which was a barrier island in the Outer Banks.

Taking a bite of her hamburger, she paused slightly when the phone rang and vibrated on the table. It caused Lexa to grin after swallowing her bite as she raised it to her ear without looking at the caller ID. There was no need, she already knew who had to be calling her.

"Did you forget to add something to our call earlier?" Lexa said teasingly.

"Um, hello? I'm positive I've dialed the right number." A confused but kind female voice could be heard on the other end of the call, causing Lexa's smile to instantly drop.

"Who is this speaking? Is my daughter Clarke around? I'd like to speak to her, please."

Lexa startled upright in her seat, banging her knee against the table as she crushed the wrapper near her hand into a crinkly ball, and gaped like the careless fool that she was.

She did not just completely screw herself by simply answering the phone without looking at the caller ID, did she?

Taking a quick glance at the phone, it only further confirmed what an awkward idiotic mess she had just put herself in.

Mom.

She really did just do that.

Shit!

"Um," Lexa hesitated, her mouth still flapping open and shut for a moment in disbelief over the situation she had accidentally found herself in.

An utterly insane moment that shouldn't even be happening, ever. Talking to the mother of the woman whose car she had stolen. That just doesn't happen.

Lexa needed to rein back her control. She needed to get out of this conversation as quickly, but unsuspiciously, as possible.

Inhaling a calming breath, she released the crumbled wrapper from her hand and tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear.

"I'm sorry. I hadn't realized I answered the wrong phone, ma'am," she murmured, allowing a soft albeit nervous laugh to be heard. "I guess that's what I get for not looking at the caller ID."

"Oh," the mother drawled out. "Well, that clears up some of the confusion. Are you a friend of Clarke's? Wait, that's probably a silly question. You're no stranger to my daughter."

Hearing the voice on the other end laugh at the idea of a stranger answering her daughter's phone made Lexa anxiously bite her lip.

Right.

Such an inane thing to imagine to ever happen to someone. Not to Clarke Griffin.

Quietly groaning to herself, she forced herself to join in the laughter before clearing her throat to move the conversation to an end.

"Yeah, that's, uh - exactly, Mrs. Griffin. So, as you -"

"Enough with the politeness You can call me Abby."

"Abby," Lexa nodded, tracing invisible swirls on the tabletop for a sudden much-needed distraction. "Okay. Clarke's not around at the moment. I guess she forgot to take her phone with her."

"I see. I was hoping to catch her before she went off to classes or into one of her secluded artist moods. Did she -" Abby trailed off.

Lexa stored the tidbit of information on Clarke in mind before momentarily panicking at whatever caused Abby to pause mid-question.

Was she catching on?

Did she notice that something was off with her?

She may have only been speaking to the woman for a few minutes now but she couldn't help the feeling that she wasn't one to usually hesitate with words. Not after getting an ear and textful from Clarke. It didn't seem too far off to assume it ran in the family.

"Did you two have a girl's night? I mean, with her phone being with you at this time..."

Okay, she hadn't expected that line of questioning. Furrowing her brow in confusion at the tabletop, she scrambled to come up with something convincing.

"Yeah, yeah. We uh, just hung out and stuff last night. She crashed at my place. It was a tiring day for her."

"I can only imagine with classes, her art projects, and her wild group of friends. I'm just glad to know that she has someone to take the load off with after a long day."

Lexa hummed in response, beginning to feel uncomfortable with the fact that she'd let this conversation go as long as it had.

Also that guilty feeling had returned to nag at her again.

"How long have you two girls known each other now?"

Lexa wasn't sure, but she could've sworn that she had heard a smile in Abby's tone. Fidgeting in her seat, she knew she really had to end this conversation in the next minute because it was becoming too much for her to handle.

"I guess you can say we're fairly new friends."

"I see. Hm, that could explain why I haven't heard about you from Clarke yet. Since it's all so new." Abby chuckled, clearly amused by the topic of their fake friendship.

It was unsettling and even more confusing to hear the almost knowing tone to her laughter. She could almost imagine a scene where she was having this conversation in person with Clarke's mom, that she'd be bumping shoulders with her and grinning knowingly.

Lexa was fully aware that she could've avoided this whole confusing conversation if she had looked at the caller ID first.

"Who knows with her." She huffed out a chuckle. "Sorry, but I need to get going but I could take a message for her if you want?"

"Oh, okay, thank you. I'm sorry for taking up your time. I'm sure you have a busy day ahead of you. If you could tell Clarke that her mom would like to skype with her soon, that'd be great."

"Don't worry about it, ma'am. I'll be sure to bring that up to her."

"Thank you, and remember, it's Abby. It was nice talking to you."

"Abby, of course. You tool. Have a good day."

After exchanging goodbyes, Lexa ended the call and tossed the phone on the table to collapse back into her chair in relief. A small grunt sounded from her, making her realize she had been sitting tensely throughout the whole conversation.

A whole conversation that should've been minutes shorter than it turned out to be.

To say she was disappointed in herself and the way she handled the call was a major understatement. If she expected to keep under the radar, continue driving across the country in a stolen car, then she needed to be more cautious. She needed to not make the same mistakes as she had done just a moment ago.

If Abby had figured out that she was actually not a friend of Clarke's, and was in fact, a stranger that stolen her phone. There was no doubt she would actually report to the police unlike her daughter, who apparently thought she could handle it on her own.

At least she learned that Clarke clearly hadn't told Abby anything that had happened, which helped with the lies she had told. Abby believed she was a new friend of Clarke's. Hopefully, she would continue believing that for long enough and perhaps she'll be able to stomp down the lingering guilt over it.

Deciding it was time to take a bathroom break and head back on the road, Lexa gathered her trash after draining the last of her coffee and dumped it into the nearby garbage can. She pocketed Clarke's phone in her jeans and turned around only to bump into the solid chest of a man donning a uniform.

"Oh, sorry. Are you okay there?" the man questioned, oblivious to just how much he caught her completely off-guard.

Firm hands gripped her arms, steadying her, as her eyes took in the police badge pinned on the top left of the man's dark buttoned-up shirt.

A uniform with a badge.

She just bumped into a police officer inside a McDonald's.

"I-I'm sorry about that, officer." She muttered, attempting to hide her disbelief and fear behind a forced closed-lipped smile. "Didn't see you there. I'm fine, though, thanks."

"If you did, we wouldn't be apologizing to each other right now." The officer responded gruffly but his clear amusement softened his tone enough for her to not take it personally. A quiet sigh of relief escaped her when the officer finally released her arms.

Clearing her throat, she briefly glanced up, catching the man's eyes before switching her view out the window to where Clarke's car sat parked. She could feel her inner panic coming close to overwhelming her.

She needed to leave

"Well, I'll be sure to watch my step next time. I was just leaving. Have a good day, sir." Receiving a polite nod, Lexa edged passed the officer and exited the building out to the parking lot.

It took some restraint from Lexa to basically not sprint to the car to put as much distance as she could between her and the cop. With measured steps, she reached the car and pulled the driver's side door opened before closing it once she was seated inside. She grimaced slightly when her hand reached up to turn the ignition on, momentarily forgetting she had no key to turn.

She really needed to figure out a way to make it less obvious that the car was stolen if anyone were to ever peek inside and see the exposed wires dangling underneath the dash. Grabbing the wires, she gazed anxiously out the windshield as she entwined the correct wires together until the engine roared.

It only took a few moments before she found herself on the road again, and merging back onto the highway. Her own green eyes stared back at her as she glanced at the rearview mirror to reassure herself that the police officer hadn't followed her.

Seeing that she was in the clear, she exhaled sharply before grinding her teeth in annoyance while she pulled the car onto the bridge that would take her to the island.

How had she not noticed that a cop had been standing nearby in the same place as her? Observation and instincts to be alert to any possibility that she needed to tread around carefully had been known strengths of hers.

Lexa shook her head at herself, knowing that she had to somehow snap herself out of the tension she's been feeling. It was something that needed to end sooner than later if she actually wanted to enjoy this impromptu trip of hers. Constantly looking over her shoulders and acting unlike herself could cause actual suspicion. It wasn't what she envisioned, and she was not about to let herself ruin something that could be so good for her.

She had envisioned herself with the windows rolled down, wind whipping through her hair, a content smile on her face while blasting music that perfectly suited the adventurous mood. It was on her to take the step in turning it into a reality. With the image back in mind, she rolled the windows down in the car and tousled her hair with her hand as she inhaled the fresh air.

Turning her attention to the radio, her fingers fumbled briefly trying to find the correct button to switch it on. Finding the button, she pressed it and sat back comfortably into her seat before scanning through the channels until something grabbed at her.

At that moment, with the windows down, her hair flying behind her, a song that sang about having a ways to go, Lexa felt something inside her just crack open and her laughter soon took its place in her surroundings.

She could feel the tension leave her as she continued to laugh in such a carefree way. Tears pricked her eyes over the jumble of emotions that swelled inside her that was starting to put her mind back on track. This was what she wanted. No one, especially not herself, was going to let this moment slip through her fingers.

#There's Distance Between Us #clexa #clexa au #clexa modern #clexa fic #clexa fanfic #clexa ao3 #clexa tdbu #myfic #my writing

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ni5hitha · 4 years

Text

When I was in school my sister asked my parents to send me to art school because she thought I could draw. I laughed because I thought I neither had the talent to be a successful artist nor the courage to drop the plan of going to med school. Eventually I finished school and was sent to Kota for med school entrance preparation where instead of studying I lay on the floor crying all day for eight months. I weighed only 36kg when I returned home in 2014. I knew there's nothing I really wanted to be anymore. That same year when I joined Regional Institute of Education just because my sister was there, I started drawing again after four years. I was still depressed but now I'd found something that made me feel better. So I thought I'd give everything up and be a freelance artist. I had found a dream again! Although deep down I still knew I'm not as good at art as my father and would probably never become an artist.

Art made me happy and having a dream gave me hope. I started being obsessed with the idea of art and asked my parents if I can drop out and they assured me that I can draw full time once I finish college. I graduated college in 2018 and it was finally time for me to leave Science and teaching and only practice art. But shockingly my parents were unhappy and refused to support me with my surreal dreams.

I was furious and hurt and swore I'd never draw again.

It took me very long to realize that my obsession with art wasn't essentially because I wanted to be an artist, but because making art made me happy. I remembered why I started drawing in the first place; I didn't draw to become an artist I drew because it made me happy.

In October 2018, while I was still recovering from my mental illnesses, I decided that art doesn't have be my dream job, I can draw whenever I want to and whatever I want to because its supposed to make me happy. I decided to draw again. I had just started the 2018 inktober challenge ...and my grandfather passed away the very next day.

I was devastated and hadn't touched a drawing book since. I defended myself that it is because I've been busy with job and life. But the truth was that I was still in pain and I had completely lost the drive to make any effort.

I'm not sure exactly why and how I started painting again, I'm assuming it was just before the coronavirus hit us. But finally in 2020 by the time India was in lockdown, I had already started singing and drawing, and I realized how much I'd missed it all these years..! The only media I used before were watercolor and colour pencils and now I've started experimenting with acrylic, digital and oil (recently). And to my surprise, people actually liked them! I was so happy!

After so many years, I was happy making art and nothing else mattered.

A few months passed and I was still creating the things I love, then one day, one of my Twitter friends sent me a direct message asking if I could draw an illustration for his upcoming EP! I couldn't believe my eyes! I knew my friends appreciated my art, but this was different! My mind started working too fast; I was visualizing things I had always wanted when I was younger, I thought of the infinite times I gave up on my dreams because my parents didn't believe in me; I could see myself working on commissions and actually living my dream! I know this isn't much of a huge achievement but honestly, until his request, I was considering art only a hobby because I had almost lost my drive and faith to dream; but his belief in my art made me believe in myself once again! So I dug up my dreams I had buried long ago and decided to work on art, and make a living from it! There's a saying in India which in English would be something like "When the lord decides to give, He gives profusely" and I felt it when a few weeks later, someone else contacted me for a commission! :)

How I wish my mental illnesses didn't affect my art because I was rather abandoning a part of me.

But as they say, everything happens for a reason.. now I know more than ever how much I love art and how complete I feel when I consider it my profession. :)

#art #art journal #motivation #mental illness #journal #new blog #blogger #art blog

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bluepenguinstories · 4 years

Text

Happiness Overload Chapter Fifty-One (True)

It was a usual morning: a spiral of negativity started off the day and threatened to follow me like an obsessive fan.

What was it about having this power that has made me feel so powerless? It didn’t even feel like I experienced any form of happiness. Like it was never a part of me. But that wasn’t true at all, was it? This creature had been with me far longer than I had known. It was the reason I was able to evade capture so long and be able to live a life of secrecy. But it being a part of me was also the reason why I was where I was, with the feeling of constant collapse. Not a sense of security. No. I had felt that before I became who I am now.

That was correct. Before the power, I hadn’t been so powerless. I was more secure. I had a greater sense of my mortality. I lived with my past a secret, aware of the fate I was meant to experience. Right before I became the demon, I was fated to become a different demon, and you know what? I accepted it. After years of evading and hiding, I decided that when they took me, I would not resist.

So many other versions of myself where I had led the same life and died in order to become a greater evil, the only difference I had was encountering that meddler. For a brief moment, when I had returned home and watched as my mental state crumbled before me, I had the reignited idea to resist, to defy my fate, and live the life I wanted.

But if it was a choice between being a murderous machine or an unstable entity, wouldn’t that mean that I was doomed from the very beginning? To live a life with a timer over your head signifying when you would become a sacrifice. I think if I had the knowledge of my options earlier in life, I would have dug my fingers into my skull and tore apart my brain, ending both myself and the opportunity for anyone to use me for one of their experiments.

I didn’t even think that was an option anymore. But if it was, would I choose it? ‘In a heartbeat’, is what I feel like my answer should be, but honestly, I don’t know anymore. That’s the biggest problem with what I have become. Not the dark thoughts, not the sickness that often accompanied it, but the uncertainty. The instability. How could I claim to be any happier when I had lost my grip on my emotions? I used to be able to suppress them so well, and now look at me.

Those were just a fraction of the thoughts that pervaded. Short dialogues with myself that grew into ideas of how I could rid myself of the plague that was my existence.

What didn’t help was the headache that developed right as I woke up; my eyes opened but it felt like the strings in window shutters tangled up in each other. Although my vision was blurred, beside me, I recalled what was on my arm.

“Be kind...be kind…” I croaked out the words. My mouth felt so dry. “Be kind…”

But yes. I tried to do what I could. Even as inside, the words repeated of how I was never meant to live, I felt another feeling beside me, the part of me that wanted the life of peace I had always wanted. The life where I could be next to the one I love and live out the rest of my days with her. It still felt like everything I did was an exercise in futility, but I tried. Damn it, I wanted to believe in the words on the bracelet. To be kind to myself, just as I wished to be with others.

Oh, but there were other problems, all of which also gave off a familiar feeling. There was the way in which I stood up, the room around me still so dark, many objects in the room were still shadowed outlines. Just like the morning prior, I stood and felt multiple sensations at once: first, a dizziness, followed by an increase in the intensity of my headache. Then, my stomach twisted into knots and it felt as if a vile chemistry act had been performed and the results were soon to bubble up to the surface. Violent and acidic. Too many foreign chemicals reacting to one another.

I stumbled, my dizziness, the aches of my head pulsating as I moved. I found myself to the bathroom, then I felt my consciousness fade, for just a few seconds.

That was the most mercy my body would allow me before my mouth burned as yellow-orange bile spilled forth from me and into the toilet bowl. It kept happening. I felt like that would be the way I would finally die, in a most unpleasant and undignified manner.

“Why is this happening here? This shouldn’t be happening?” I managed to squeeze the words out, somewhere between a pained moan and a croak. There were coughs, but it seemed like it was going to stop. But then another push, and a little more found its way out. I wiped my mouth, then tried to speak once more.

“At least...I don’t see any blood…” I still didn’t understand why I felt that way, but I tried to take comfort in how bad it wasn’t. “But still, why am I throwing up?”

“You have a hangover,” I heard the reply in the tone of an odd mixture of daft and matter-of-fact. “It’s quite common when you drink too much, really.”

Velvet stood at the door. I had forgotten all about her. Lost in my own head. I turned my head, my vision still a watercolor blur. Still, just from her posture, it was clear how careless she acted.

“Oh! Crap! That’s right! I was going to make orange juice for everyone so I could prevent just that, but then I passed out! God damn it, I’ll be right back!”

I heard her run off, her heels making loud thumps down the stairs. If her plan was to wake everyone else up, she might have been successful. I turned my attention back to the mess I had made, ashamed at my physical condition.

Right. Hangover. It made too much sense. Velvet would come back, to try to hydrate me. But that wouldn’t do. If I could do any magical act to make myself happier, then a hangover shouldn’t have been a big deal.

Into the kitchen I went, muttering obscenities under my breath (as opposed to real loud, because believe it or not, I didn’t want to wake the others up). I wasn’t, like, the smartest when it came to everything (yeah, yeah, real shock) but I was sure there had to be something in the kitchen to make orange juice with. If there wasn’t, then there had to be fresh oranges or something. How hard could it be to make orange juice from scratch? You just had to squeeze the things, right?

But the search was proving fruitless, no pun intended. I tried a cabinet and saw nothing but random medical supplies.

“What the heck? Who needs all these meds?” I complained, even as I tried to keep my voice low. Maybe I’d find a med to cure hangovers among the random assortment. Was worth a try, anyway. I started looking at each pill bottle, then shaking my head and tossing them on the floor.

“Nope. Nope. Not that one.”

None of these pill bottles seemed to be of any use to me. Then again, I didn’t know much about hangover cures other than “orange juice good”. Oh well, I continued my search and tossed more bottles over my shoulder.

“Trent won’t like it if he sees what you’re doing,” the gloomy voice of Verse caught me off guard and I found myself startled as I turned around.

“It...it’s not what it looks like!” I stammered.

“And what does it look like?”

I looked down, only to see a clean kitchen floor. I looked back up and saw the cabinet closed.

“What the…”

“You’re tired, Velvet. How much sleep did you get?” She asked, though I wasn’t sure how concerned she really was.

“Heh. You got me. I got a little bit, but I guess I couldn’t stay asleep for long.”

“I see.”

My eyes stayed locked on to her movements as she made her way past me and opened the fridge, then pulled out a pitcher. She brought a cup down from the cupboard above, then poured the contents of the pitcher.

“Was this what you were looking for?” She pointed to her glass of juice.

“Ho...how? What?” Ugh. She was right. I was tired. “Well, taking that for your hangover?”

“It’s already gone,” she stated. “It didn’t make me happy, so I no longer have one.”

Why are you talking like Blanc? Was what I wanted to say, but I didn’t. I kept that shit in my thoughts.

She went and sat down at the table. Eh, I guess I’d do the same. Have a bit of chit-chat. Nothing too serious.

“So today’s the big day, huh?”

She took a sip from her juice and hummed. “Mhm.”

“Think everyone’ll be okay, I mean, what with the whole partying and stuff?”

She set the glass down.

“I’ll be honest, Velvet: I still don’t want to take you or anyone else there. Regardless of anyone’s actions last night, no one would have been prepared. The chances of us being ‘okay’ are slim to none. I’m doing this anyway because you were so insistent on it and I’m sure if anyone else wants to go along, you’d be insistent of making sure they come along as well.”

“Cheery as ever, I see.”

“As long as we stick together, I’ll do everything in my power to keep everyone safe. I’m sure you’ll do the same.”

Hm. That was an improvement, I guess?

“Actually, now that you mention it, if I recall, you said that you were planning on going there anyway. What were you planning on doing there?”

“That is not your concern.”

“Does it have anything to do with why you don’t want to bring us along?”

“I think I have made my case. But yes, it does complicate matters.”

“How do you intend to carry out your plan if you want us all to stick together?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I won’t go through with it. The safety of others should come first.”

“Go through with it...what were you going to go through with, assuming you were going to be alone?”

She drank from her cup again and kept her mouth on the cup, as if she was trying to avoid the question. Then, she set the cup down once again and spoke.

“I don’t think I need to tell you that.”

“Come on! If it’s a matter of our safety, I think I ought to know!”

“It’s a matter for me, and me alone.”

“Please? You can trust me! We’re friends, aren’t we?”

“I didn’t come here to make friends.”

Wow. What a cliché line. Right out of a cheesy competition show where one guy just tries to be way too cocky. Was that her?

“That’s not what you said last night! You called me the ‘F’ word!”

“...Fucker.”

“No! Not that one! Friend! You said I’m a good friend!”

“I’m sorry,” she closed her eyes and looked away. “I don’t remember. I must have been drunk at the time.”

“Why, you –”

She sighed. “If you really must know, I plan to end my life.”

That struck me. I gasped and pounded my fists on the table.

“What?! Really?! You used present tense, not past! That means you still want to do such a thing!”

“Relax, Velvet. I didn’t mean anything quite so drastic. I just plan to end my life as it currently is so I can start anew. That’s all.”

“Oh. That’s. Um. Not bad, I guess?” I tried to think it over. “Wait! You’re being vague!”

“It doesn’t matter. Your focus should be on saving the world, shouldn’t it?”

Ugh. She got me there. I GUESS.

“You right. Girl, when you right, you right. Speaking of, shouldn’t I pour everyone a glass of orange juice?”

She shook her head.

“If hangovers make them unhappy, they will not have them.”

Uh. Right. Okay. I GUESS that was how it worked.

I rubbed my temple. “Sure, whatever. I’m tired. It’s 5:30 AM, the sun’s barely even out, I must be delusional. Looks like what I need is some breakfast.”

I began scouring the kitchen, opening cupboard after cupboard. To my shock, there were many cupboards full of beans, though it looked like there was a cereal box behind all those bags of beans. I just had to reach in and toss those beans aside.

“What’s with all these beans?! There should be less beans!” I complained, as I threw bags of beans behind me. “We need less beans! Less beans, I say!”

“I’m not going to say anything,” Verse replied.

I looked down on the floor and saw the mess that I had made. Then I turned to Verse and grinned.

“I guess you could say I spilled the beans, hehe.”

“How do you even function?” She groaned.

Well, first off, maybe it was the fact that I was alone in a room with someone who just the night prior considered me a friend, but I was still terrified of her and her motivations. It seemed like she wasn’t so bad, but it was still nerve-wracking. No. That wasn’t it.

It was the fact that it was the big day. When we were going to all go and I was going to try to do the thing. Was I really so confident in my ability? Sure, there was Area 51. Twice, in fact, but third strike, you’re out, right?

None of us were prepared. I knew that already. I had to know that. But I was always the one who acted reckless and made things up as she went. I wasn’t used to things being a big group, trying to protect everyone, and even then, all the times I did these outlandish self-proposed missions, I at least had an idea of what I was getting into. Instead, it’s only a suspicion that it will be difficult. That didn’t work, but all the time I had allowed myself was up and the big day was upon us.

I really wanted to be more functional and set a good example for everyone, but my confidence was being put to the test. At the very least, I ought to put myself together before everyone else woke up.

I sighed.

“I think I’ll just cook some beans…”

As I got to work, I looked back toward Verse.

“Hey, do you think the others would like beans?”

She shrugged.

“Do you like beans?” I figured since she was up, I could just ask her.

“You don’t have to do this.”

“Nonsense! If we all leave this world on an empty stomach, we won’t be in good shape for battle.”

“You really are kind, aren’t you? Wanting everyone to be well.”

I shrugged. “Eh? Sure, I guess? Don’t you want everyone to be well, too?”

“Yeah. You’re right. It’s just, you remind me a little of Juniper, is all.”

“I do, huh? Well, she is cute, so I’ll take that as a compliment. Hey, do you think her and I would make a good couple?”

“Watch it,” she growled.

“What? Just, like, hypothetically. You have a wife, anyway. Hey, maybe in the universe you’re from, I’m married to her and –”

“Seriously, cut that out!” Then she covered her mouth. I was a bit surprised, myself. What was so wrong with a little bit of what-ifs?

It was a bit concerning, really. It seemed like she started to shake.

“Are you okay? I was just –”

“You...you’ve got that imp. You should appreciate her more.”

Ah! That’s what it was!

“You’re right, my bad. I just got caught up in potential pairings.”

Speaking of Coriander, which was a rather spicy name, I wondered how she was doing. I imagined she was still asleep, but I hoped she didn’t drink too much.

“What are you two doing up so early?” Coriander stood just outside of the kitchen and announced her presence in a tired and weary voice. “Especially you, Velvet, you usually take forever to wake up.”

I was at a loss for words. She was right, a common theme of the morning; everyone around me being right and me looking like a total fool.

“I couldn’t sleep well,” I admitted. “Too excited, ‘cause, it’s finally going to happen.”

“And why are you eating beans?” She rubbed her eyes, as if maybe she were still dreaming. Maybe the two of us were sharing the same dream and it was quite the romantic one. Yeah. That was a legit possibility.

“Y’know, sometimes you gotta have those beans,” I told her as if it were a plausible excuse.

“Eh. I’ll stick with cereal.”

The fuck?! I was trying to go for cereal, too! This isn’t fair!

Beside me, where Verse was, I saw a hand appear on her shoulder, and Blanc popped up.

“I get what you’re about to do, but it’s not the right time,” they told Verse.

“There may not be a right time. I have to know before I go.”

“Even if it hurts others?”

“How long have you been here, Blanc?” I asked, not even surprised anymore.

“I’ve been sleeping on the floor next to the table! I just thought I’d get up because it seemed something interesting was happening!” Blanc grinned. For sure, I must have been dreaming all this.

“How are you feeling, Coriander?” Verse turned her attention to my not-girlfriend-but-may-as-well-be.

She shrugged. “Tired, but fine, I guess? Why?”

“I want to help you, but I only know one way to do so. You deserve a future.”

The next thing I witnessed was too painful to be a dream. More of a feverish nightmare.

My rest was pleasant and without interruptions. No recollections of my past self as Mavis; becoming so bloodied and beaten that it turned me crazed. The desire to replace someone. To tear myself apart, the unwanted desire. None of those memories played out.

But what did wake me up was commotion coming from the direction of the kitchen. Voices, the usual banter, that much I was sure of. But whatever the ones the two said to one another, however meaningless the banter, it stirred me awake and when I jolted up from the couch, I looked over to see Velvet and Verse in the kitchen.

Those two troublemakers, those shady fiends...I knew they had to be up to no good. But I had to rub my eyes to make sure I was actually seeing what I thought I was seeing. After rubbin’ ‘em out, then blinkin’ a few times for good measure, I figured I must have been awake.

So I got up, wiped the drool off my mouth (if Velvet found out, she’d never let me live it down. I’d rather die than admit such a terrible thing), then walked up to the kitchen.

I addressed the velvet elephant in the room named Velvet who was up to her old shenanigans. I decided I’d just go with cereal, rather than...beans? Seriously? Who in their right mind would have beans for breakfast? Whatever. My mind was perfect, which meant cereal was in the cards for me.

But before I even managed to step foot into the kitchen, Blanc jumped up next to Verse, which meant there were now three people in the kitchen who were untrustworthy (I swear, nothing but fake-ass mofos in this kitchen).

Their words mostly went through one ear and right out the other, but then Verse said my name and I remembered that I was both awake, and in the realm of reality.

“How are you feeling, Coriander?” She asked. How should I answer, something like ‘I’m getting pretty fed up with all these hoes’? Nah. I had dignity to protect.

“Tired, but fine, I guess. Why?”

Her next words sounded like she was chanting some sort of spell, but they were just normal words. God damn, real life is sometimes sure creepier than any dream.

“I want to help you, but I only know one way to do so. You deserve a future.”

No. Those words were kind enough. She wasn’t too bad. She tried to help me. She tried to help me, but she was useless, just like I was, just like everyone was. There was no help. No way to change the past. No way to –

“Aah!” I cried out, a sharp pain rising, but in a spot I couldn’t quite identify. My legs felt like they had grown denser, solidified into clay, but a clay that had been weathered and was giving out and everything within felt so weak that I felt my knees drop to the floor.

I clutched my stomach – no – my chest. It ached so bad. Then there was my head. My eyes grew heavier. It felt like I was dying, like a great gravitational force weighing upon me. But that wasn’t right, either. It wasn’t like I was dying; it was like there was nothing else to do but be dying.

“Wha...what did you do to me?” The words choked their way out of me. It sounded so low, stifled, even. It felt like I was losing all my breath. All the oxygen was leaving me. There was just a weight. I was the weight.

We don’t need any dead weight. I am the dead weight.

I pounded my fists on the floor. My face was now down against it. I tried to scream, but couldn’t. I seemed to have lost the energy. As if it were my last gasping breath, I spit out the words.

“What? What did you do?!”

Velvet ran up to me and wrapped her arms around my back and chest.

“Are you okay?!” She sounded concerned. Genuinely. But it sounded so far away.

“She did something to me...I know it…” I seethed. “I feel like I’m dying.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know!” I managed to cry out. “I just know she did something! It has to be!”

I heard Velvet speak once more:

“Did you do something to her?”

“No...I...just wanted to help her. I swear.”

That was weird. Verse’s voice also sounded concerned. But then why was I so sure she had something to do with what I was feeling, or not feeling?

Or maybe I’m just blaming my weakness on others once again.

“Just leave me to die. All of you,” I told them all. Those words sounded so soulless, but they seemed like the right ones to speak. As someone without a soul, let alone one who didn’t even deserve one.

I thought that would be it, and my consciousness would fade as my limbs fell off my body. No. Those were the only parts of me I felt like I still had. Then, my heart grew heavier, and the beating felt so front and center. An ache, and my hand clutched my chest, held Velvet’s hand tight.

I began to breathe uncontrollably; tears tore their way out from my face and would not stop.

“I’m so sorry! For who I have been! For who I still am! I need to go!” It was moving too fast, it wasn’t even a part of me. It hurt me too much to be a part of me. Rather, it was something that escaped from me.

Velvet’s hand moved up, somehow while my hand was still over hers. Did she move mine or did I just not let go? She held my chin up so that our eyes were both locked-on to each other.

“Listen to me: you don’t need to apologize for who you are. You already know I embrace every part you show to me.”

The tears continued to flow out. She wiped them.

“Will you be okay? Should we wait another day? I don’t think the world will end if we do.”

“What am I? Who am I?”

She laughed. “Avoiding the question like usual, huh? Okay, you are the artist formerly known as Birch. Also known as the cool as spicy Coriander, and maybe later you’ll change your name to Sage or Paprika. I don’t know. We’ll see, won’t we? As for what you are? Sexy as fuck.”

“Be serious, asshole,” I grumbled.

She laughed, then held me tighter.

“See? You’re still you.”

I let out a mighty sigh. That was easy to say, but it was too hard to believe. It felt like there was a part of me missing and I couldn’t even identify what that part was.

“We’re doing this. You and I, we’re going to get those bastards,” I declared. My sense of self had returned, or more like, I had retained it in spite of everything. “I’m not going to let something like this keep me down.”

I still couldn’t find my footing to get back up, but it didn’t matter. However weakened I was, I would do all in my power, even if that power was limited, to tear down The Flashbulb.

Velvet and I both scowled and fixed our gazes at Verse.

“If you did something to make her this way, you ought to speak up,” Velvet demanded. Then she got up. “I’m serious. Even if I can’t prove it, either, I trust Coriander.”

“I didn’t! I swear!”

Blanc looked over. “I told you now wasn’t the right time. I know you meant well, but you can’t always know how things will affect people.”

“What are you talking about, Blanc? Did she do something or not?”

“Ehehe...well, you see...the truth is a little more complicated.”

What’s with that nonchalant attitude? I really didn’t like them.

“I never wanted to hurt anyone!” She continued to defend herself as her voice trembled. Her lips quivered, her hands shook. “I just thought –”

“Thought what?”

“No! This isn’t right! You shouldn’t see me like this!”

Damn. She was going to wake the others up if she wasn’t careful. Then again, I was surprised I didn’t do the same.

“You should all be asleep! It would make me happy to see you all well rested and in good spirits!” She shouted.

There was that word again. Why didn’t it affect me as much? Why did it before? It just sounded so foreign now.

Without room to ponder further, I found myself grow tired and my consciousness slipped.

So there it was: the result. Should have figured it wouldn’t be so easy. Yet there I was, as I sat, and watched the three of them passed out on the floor, so easily. I carried Velvet off to her bedroom, then went back to Coriander. Blanc...they were fine anywhere. While those two I could make forget, Blanc was a little beyond my power.

Blanc stood back up. I looked over to them, my expression back to a dull and subdued one.

“I’m surprised you didn’t try to stop me, being what you are.”

“I figured warning you was enough. Besides, you did a good thing, it just wasn’t good at the time.”

“I know you can make someone the happiest they can be in an instant, so why do you prefer the slow burn approach?”

They shrugged. “Feels more natural? Fun, perhaps?”

“I feel like your definition of ‘natural’ and mine are different. It doesn’t matter how long it takes for something, if you still force it, it’s not natural.”

“Hm. Mm. Yeah! I suppose so, huh?” They beamed.

“Answer me: if you can make someone happy in an instant, can you also make someone un-happy in an instant?”

“Can I?” They sounded incredulous. “I think you can! You just have that effect on people!”

“Oh, fuck you!”

“Is happiness even a real emotion or is it just a thing that comes from you? What about other emotions? Do they just come from other vague entities?”

“You make it sound like things created aren’t real! You’re so silly! I don’t even have to do anything, anyway, so don’t you worry, Coriander can still be happy, just like you can!”

“I never suggested anything of the sort…”

Blanc ruffled my hair, which prompted a growl from me as I tried to swat their hand away.

“Silly-willy uwuvius! You’re not someone because they look like you, and you’re not someone because they are how you act!”

“Then who am I?”

“You’re every bit the nurse I thought you were when I first met you!”

...What. Yeah. Okay. Never mind. I should have known better than to question the logic of that black-haired weirdo.

“By the way, I agree: sleep will raise your spirits! See you again in a few hours!”

I didn’t even question it when I found myself pass out on the kitchen table as if their words served as a tranquilizer dart.

Wow. What a night. I feel like I had a weird dream about waking up earlier and making beans for breakfast, something that I’d never do in real life. Not only that, but I feel like there were other things, but y’know how dreams could be. Forget most but a small fraction.

Oh well, not that important. What was important were the things in store for me. In store for all of us.

I stretched and yawned. Next to me was Coriander, the spice bae.

“I guess I should get up and shower,” I said through yawns.

Coriander stirred in her sleep. I decided to give her a little nudge.

“Hey. Hey. Wanna shower together?”

“What’s wrong with you?” She mumbled, then shoved the pillow over her head. “And why are you awake before me? This is so not fair!”

“You can say we woke up at the same time and call it even, whaddya say?” I nudged her. “C’mon and let’s get some grub!”

“Fiiiine.”

We made our way downstairs and into the sacred food place.

“I feel like shit. Like I just had a bad time or something,” Coriander complained.

“You probably had one too many drinks. Nothing coffee can’t fix, right?”

“Yeah, I guess you’re right…”

She seemed to be in bad spirits, but as I said, was probably just low on energy. We trudged on into the kitchen, past the mess that was the aftermath of the party held the night before. Juniper and Trent were already up, serving themselves breakfast and taking to the table, where Verse looked down at a teacup, listless. She looked up, smiled a warm smile, then greeted us.

“It’s so good to see you two!” She sounded warm, sweet, fake. “Did you both sleep well?”

I tilted my head. “What’s wrong with this picture?”

“Yeah?! What gives?! I ought to sock you right here, right now!” Coriander roared.

“Whoa!” I waved my hands. “I didn’t mean to go that far! I just mean that this is pretty unusual.”

Coriander cleared her throat. “Er, yes. Sorry. Something came over me. I felt like I should be mad at you, but I’m not really sure why.”

“Fine enough,” Verse laughed. “And to answer your question, no.” Her expression changed. Lowered to the one I was more used to seeing from her. “I cannot be so positive. We must all face the realities of what awaits us.”

“Right after pancakes!” Juniper said in a sing-song voice.

I looked around. “Eh? Where’s Blanc?”

Trent shrugged. “Asleep on the couch.”

“I see…”

There was no doubt that I was no longer in some sort of haze, but maybe it was the tiredness that continued to make everything feel just a little off.

“Let’s focus on the positives for now,” Verse fixed her gaze on me. “Velvet, you have been known to work best with short time limits. If presented with a problem and a limited time to solve it, you will find a way. In short, you are badass.”

I laughed. “No need to be badass, only good and kind!”

“Which I am also not. Moving on, blue imp,” she turned her attention to Coriander.

“Uh? I have a name, asshole!” Coriander barked.

“Right. It’s just seeing you reminds me of someone else, though that other person differed from you in personality, and I know of no others of your stature with a similar personality as that person. Hm. Actually, there was one person...but I totally forgot about them.”

“Then why bring any of that up?!”

“Sorry, I lost my train of thought. I just wanted to tell you that your skills at building tech are unparalleled. No, I knew someone else once who could invent things, she was quite admirable...but that is neither here, nor there.”

“Just get to the fucking point!”

I could tell Coriander was getting pretty riled up, but I had to say, this all seemed rather trivial to me. I let those two bicker while I focused on the more important things.

“Hey Trent, where do you keep your cereal?”

“Ah, just down here,” he pointed to one of the cupboards down below. What a pain.

“All I wanted to say was that if you and Velvet put your heads together instead, you two could figure out the mechanisms within The Flashbulb’s headquarters with ease,” I heard Verse say in a huff.

“Then why bring up all those other people?! You probably made vague references to about ten!”

Damn. Did I zone out that much?

“Because if I can think about others, I won’t have to think about the demon that I am!”

“You guys, seriously?” I looked at both of them. “You’re going to fight with each other before we even get there? Whatever any of us think of each other, big deal. If we’re going as a group, we ought to try to put up with one another. Instead of going at each other’s throats, we should use that energy to fight our actual enemies.”

Sheesh. I couldn’t believe I had to scold those two. I fixed myself a bowl of cereal and sat in silence. Until everyone could agree to get along, I would ignore my surroundings and just eat.

“Sooo, how about those pancakes?” Juniper looked around.

“Juniper, I like you, but read the room,” I sighed. “Everyone’s on edge. Including me.”

“Oh. Yeah. I know. I just don’t know how else to act. I’m actually really nervous right now, too.”

I froze and looked at her hands, which shook, but she continued to eat.

“I-I know what it’s like to be scared and then want to focus on the positives. Because that’s how it is all the time. Or pretend that it’s okay. So that it will be okay. I don’t know if it will be okay, but I know that there are things that are okay. Like this pancake.”

“There is one thing that’s okay, whether or not you’ll be able to find anything positive once we enter: it’s okay to admit you’re afraid.”

“Is it okay to admit other things?”

“Like what?” I tilted my head.

“Like how I know a thing or two about putting things together, too! Not just bracelets, but...I can pick up on things pretty easily! I may not want to say so, and I may not be the best right away, but I can usually put two and two together.”

“I’m still not following.”

“That’s okay, because I am! Or rather, I’m not following!”

“Which is it?”

“I’m going there, even if I’m scared. It may kill me, but so is staying here. I’ve done so much for my brother, at the expense of myself, so I’d like to just go, for me. Not for any of you. Because to me, it’s somewhere new.”

“That’s ridiculous! That’s reckless!” Verse interjected.

“So? You can’t stop me,” she stuck her tongue out.

“Yes I can. I can just exclude you and only take Velvet and Coriander along. Easy.”

“You can, but you won’t. Because it’s too obvious.”

“What is?”

Hm. I didn’t want to say “this was getting interesting” but I sure didn’t expect it.

“You’re waaaaay too nice,” she stuck her tongue out.

“That’s rich coming from you,” Verse growled.

Juniper turned back to me. “I’m not the only one who sees it, am I?”

“What?”

“Hmm...this isn’t just a coincidence. I can feel it. But I don’t know how to explain it.”

I didn’t know either, but I think I noticed a pattern: all of us were people Blanc knew somehow. Well, except Coriander. So, maybe that wasn’t it.

“I just wonder, y’know? How me and my brother were like in that other universe Blanc met us in. And when they met this Verse person, y’know? It seemed like Blanc was hoping for this.”

Right. There was something there. Truth was stranger than fiction, but also, if Conrad taught me anything, it was that people tended to connect two very unconnected dots and make huge leaps. So, sometimes the truth was also much simpler than “aliens did it”, which was why I originally had a hard time believing the “alternate dimensions” thing to begin with.

“Blanc has a habit of wandering around a lot. I can assure you, I never met you or your brother before coming here.”

“Huh. I never said you did,” Juniper gave a blank stare. “In fact, I was just thinking that you sure don’t take long to form connections with people, do you?”

“Oh yeah. Huh. Like how you said I was a good friend last night,” I added.

“I’d rather you didn’t bring that up…” Verse growled. “I just had too much to drink. That’s all.”

“Or like how you listened to me talk about my insecurities,” Juniper added.

“Oh, same with me!” Coriander added. “Yeah, okay. You’re not so bad after all. I think I just woke up on the wrong side of the bed.”

As opposed to what side?

“Stop that. All of you. I’m not that nice,” Verse went on the defensive.

“You said I was quite generous,” Trent also butted in.

“Okay, that one’s a reach. I was just thanking you, that’s all. Proper etiquette.”

“You’re still wearing that bracelet,” Juniper pointed out.

“I just forgot I was wearing it. My skin’s going to break out in rashes, I’m sure of it.”

“You said you would treasure it.”

“You guys are all mean! I hate you all! I’m –”

We all burst out laughing.

“Oh my god! You’re acting like such a kid!” Coriander cried out. “I wouldn’t even act like that!”

Except you have. Plenty of times.

“Let’s hurry up and finish eating. We’re leaving after. Someone wake Blanc up.”

Turns out none of us had to. Blanc jumped up and bounced around the house. Not really, but it sure felt that way.

“I feel like I missed something fun!” They complained, though sounded more like a cheer. “Tell me everything!”

Nobody answered. Blanc looked disappointed, but that expression didn’t last.

“Are you ready to go, Blanc?” I asked.

“All the time!”

Blanc left the kitchen. Soon, I did too. Then the others.

In total, it took about an hour before we were all out the door. Nobody bothered with cleaning. We must have figured we would never see that place again. There was little in the way of packing. We didn’t know what would be appropriate to take with us. I should have said there was no packing, but I knew Coriander brought along her whole workstation in her pocket. As for me, I figured my wit would be enough, even if as I already said, I had little to no knowledge of the place. I already had the feeling I was screwed. Juniper brought along a wrench. Something I didn’t even know she had.

Trent stood by the door. It didn’t seem that important of note, but he wasn’t huddled with us outside.

“Now, I can’t stress this enough,” Verse began. “We must stay together at all times. We have a greater chance of survival if we all work to protect each other and utilize each other’s strengths. There’s no telling where we’ll end up when we get there, so everyone be on your guard.”

“If you don’t know where we’ll end up, why do you think you’re going to be the expert?” Juniper argued.

“What?! Are you serious right now?! I’m out here trying to keep you all safe and you’re questioning me?!”

“Sheesh. So uptight. You’re not going to make friends with that attitude, you know.”

“This isn’t about making friends!”

“You’re just trying to put a leash on me!”

Don’t think dirty thoughts. Don’t think dirty thoughts.

“I’m trying to do the right thing!”

Again? Really? More arguing? Right when we were getting ready to go?

“You two! Stop acting like an old married couple! We need to get this show on the road!”

“Why would you say something like that?!” Both of them yelled at me.

I put my palm on my face and shook it.

Verse cleared her thought. “You’re right. Sorry,” she reached into her pocket and pulled out a device. “With this, a portal will open up in front of us. Are you ready?”

Coriander and I nodded. Blanc walked in front of Verse and Juniper and bobbed their head and hummed “mhm.” Verse turned around behind her.

“What about you, Trent? We don’t have much time.”

Right. He was still at the door. Hadn’t moved.

“About that…” He looked back inside. “Well, the mess is only going to get bigger, but I think I’d like to try to clean up as much as I can. Slow the spread.”

“Just forget about it,” she shook her head. “You’re not gonna be around to see it.”

Juniper sighed. “I know this isn’t easy for you to admit, but you gotta be more direct. Verse isn’t as perceptive as she looks.”

Verse balked, but didn’t say anything.

“Sorry, you’re right,” he shook his head and smiled. “To put it simply, I’m staying behind.”

“You shouldn’t! The world will end! You should be with your sister and protect her, she’s useless on her own!” Verse protested.

“I knew you were way too nice,” Juniper looked displeased. “Didn’t you catch any of what I told him last night while we were all drinking and partying?”

“No? Why would I?”

“I told him he had to do what was right for him.”

“And?”

“And,” Trent spoke up. “It may not have much of an impact, but if there’s anyone left on Earth who could use medical attention, I’d like to be there for them. No profit motive, I just want to help people. It’s always been my thing, but I’ve just never really had the confidence to be of much help, and with all these hospitals gone, it felt that much harder. But it got me thinking. If I can scrounge up enough supplies, maybe I could move around and take care of anyone I come across.”

“That’s…”

“No, I know you want to say it’s a bad idea or something. It probably is. But it’s what I decided to do.”

“Please. After everyone else decided to go? Why?”

“Let them. I’ve just decided to do something different, that’s all,” he smiled.

“But you’ll die down here!”

“Aw, don’t think of it that way. I’d like to think it’ll happen sooner or later, so I’m just going to try to do something I wanted to do while I’m still around.”

“I’ll –” She started to get choked up. Familiar feeling. “I’ll miss you. You gave me a home when I was lost and you asked for little in return. I know I can be quite the asshole, and I might not have appreciated all that you’ve done as much as I should have, but it really meant a lot to me, and I’m proud to call you family.”

He chuckled. “Really? It was only a couple of days.”

She laughed right back. “To me, it was much longer than that.”

I felt like I stepped into a movie that was a totally different genre than the reality I existed in. I blinked. All the same people were still there.

Sure enough, the portal opened up. It looked more like a mirror, than anything. Some kind of mirror that we were just supposed to step through. An illusory mirror.

“It’s time for us to go,” Verse stepped forth and announced. “No more hesitation. Let’s go.”

Juniper followed behind. Behind even her...Blanc was there, who I saw shove both of them forward.

“LET’S GO LESBIANS, LET’S GO!” Blanc yelled.

“You just came along to yell that, didn’t you, Blanc?” I called out.

“Got me!” Blanc replied, then continued to cheer. “LET’S GO LESBIANS! LET’S GO!”

“Stop this! This is serious!” Verse commanded.

“Maybe it’s so serious that we should cheer too?” Juniper suggested.

“Hell, I’ll do it just to annoy tall angry lady,” Coriander jumped in.

“I just like the vibes! Let’s all get in on it!” I found myself saying.

Then, as a group, we entered, without knowing what awaited us there.

There wasn’t really anything for me in that place, but I went because I figured I would find something neat. Just like the others believed, in their own way, anyway. ‘Neat’ could have such a broad definition.

Actually, I considered just staying on Earth with Trent. Figured he and I could bond over things, though there wasn’t really much I knew that he and I had in common. I guess nerdy shit? Ah, but it could have been like a Beige thing. He could have relayed stories of his past and I’d learn so much more and nod along like they were such interesting tales of youth. You could learn a lot from a person just by sitting with them.

Maybe I didn’t need to learn anything. It would be nice to have some sort of company as the world was ending, someone friendly, even if there was little that company had in common with me. But in the end, I decided to explore a big maze in the void of the space between spaces.

Velvet and her gang didn’t know it yet, but I wasn’t going to stick with them. They were all cool people, but I didn’t really need to do anything. They were all capable. I was fine enough just being able to wander.

You could call it wanderlust, but that would make it sound sexual, so I wouldn’t, if I were you. Just call it wanderlike, instead. Or a platonic attraction to wandering. Wow, no. That was a mouthful. Oh well. You could figure it out if you wanted to, I wasn’t about to boggle my noggin with such noggin bogglers.

Let’s see...which way to wander…

Eenie, meenie, minie…

Left! I’ll turn left!

Okay, back to the ladies. Ciao.

We arrived at a vast corridor. Dimly lit, almost darkness. Some sort of pulsating lights, but a glow that seemed to be no discernible hue.

“Okay,” Verse announced. “Now that we’re here, our first order of business should be –”

“Whoa! Cool!” Juniper looked around, totally cutting off Verse’s order. “This place is so cool!” Then, she ran off straight ahead.

“No! No it’s not! Get back here! Hey!” Verse called to her, then ran off as well.

I was dumbfounded.

“Really? After she made such a big deal of us sticking together?” I threw my hands up.

“I knew it. Can’t trust tall ladies,” Coriander shook her head. “Especially can’t trust girls with pigtails.”

I looked behind me.

“What? Blanc’s gone too?”

“Yup. Can’t trust people with black hair, either.”

I turned toward Coriander and smirked.

“Guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

“Looks like it.”

“What do you say? ‘Til death do us part?”

“Sure,” she snorted. “Whatever that means. If I’ll be rid of you once we’re both dead, I’m in.”

We both bumped elbows and ran toward the hallway and turned right, where we hoped something would get figured out along the way.

#writing #stories #scifi #horror #drama #comedy #depression #happiness #happiness overload

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omg-foreverfilledwithweird-posts · 6 years

Text

A Harmless Crush ♡

Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader

Summary: Assigned to the Winter Soldier by S.H.I.E.L.D to help him to accommodate to society, staying in the Avenger’s tower, and occasionally doing paperwork for STARK industries, you’ve grown close to James Buchanan Barnes, developing a crush on him in the process. So when you, reluctantly, tag along to a baseball game with the Avengers, and the kiss cam lands on you and Bucky, things get interesting.

A/N: idk but with all this Sebby Stan all over ig, I’m in the Bucky fluffy mood so and for once I’m gonna do a shy, bit of an introverted reader, explore that, so enjoy this mushy crap it’s so cute and lemme know what you think :) if you want a part two

Warning: super freaking soft, mild language cause it’s me, fluff to the max, you’ll get a toothache from the sweetness I swear

You step lightly into the Avenger’s living room, having been all but physically forced to go to this baseball game, to get out of the tower as they told you, but you refused to agree unless you could bring a book along with you. You had stuffed it in your small backpack, hanging loosely off one of your fuzzy, sweater clad shoulders, a cold day in spring. You roll up your sleeves to your forearms, sporting a pair of dark, high waisted jeans and converse along with it, Nat doing a small twirl with her finger to get you to spin for her.

“Cute. Very cute,” she wears a satisfied smile and you’re eyes are drawn over to Bucky, tucked in the corner of the room with his arms folded over his broad chest, keeping to himself, as do you. He wears his long, brunette hair back, tied in a bun, tendrils falling down the front and over his cerulean eyes, casted downwards at his scuffed, army boots, crossed over each other.

He senses a pair of eyes on him, something that has become second nature to him, the feeling of knowing when you’re being watched, but he looks up anyway, delightfully surprised to see your flushed face and e/c eyes looking over at him. Everything about you was soft, he thinks, your sweaters, your laugh, your eyes when you look at him, your smile, your heart, your features, no harsh lines or sharp angles, only soft curves and dips, like a watercolor painting gently done by someone who knew what they were doing. You’re a work of art, precious and untouchable, a Monet painting that’s even more beautiful up close. His own lips curve into a smile at the sight of you in your favorite outfit, causing you to bashfully look away, hiding in your best friend, Nat, feeling her vibrating laughter when you tuck yourself into her.

Clapping his hands together to get everyone’s attention, Tony finally speaks up, “We’re all ready, great, let’s get going.”

Steve lays his hand on Stark’s shoulder to stop him for a moment, getting his attention, “Why don’t we walk there, Tony? It’s a beautiful day, it’s not that far, and we’re missing training to-”

“Shut. The. Hell. Up. Cap,” Sam says with a warning glare in the man’s direction, having been excited for his first day off in almost a month, wanting to savor every second of it.

“If you want to walk and damage a hip, Gramps, you can, but I’m taking the car, you all do what you want, just be there by 2:00,” Tony looks down at his mortgage payment of a watch. “Which is in thirty minutes.”

Everyone disperses and Nat is the first to ask what your plan is, instinctively making you look behind you to see what Bucky will do next, finding him already looking in your direction.

“Walk with me?” he mouths from across the room, waiting to walk over to you, just as shy as you when it came to this sort of thing, he was just better at hiding it. As he did with everything else.

You barely have time to think before you’re mouthing back, Okay, smiling against your better judgement. But the smile that lights up his face in return helps make the bundle of nerves in your stomach you get around him, almost nonexistent.

~~~

“I’m kind of surprised you wanted to walk with me,” he admits after a spell of blissful silence, accompanied by woodland creatures scurrying past, couples making small talk, and trees humming along with the tune of the wind.

You snort at the absurdity of his statement, “Why? I enjoy being with you,” you risk a glance at him and he’s meeting your eyes before you can mentally prepare yourself for the emotional turmoil you’re experiencing, deciding to back track. Deny, deny, deny. “Hanging out with you. Jesus. I sounded so creepy when I said that, didn’t I?” you let out a soft breath of laughter, fuck, fuck, fuck, running a hand through your hair, tugging at the ends in frustration.

He throws his head back with a rumbling laughter that doesn’t help the butterflies in your stomach or die them down any less, only adding fuel to the fire when his fingers intentionally brush against your arm. “You didn’t, I promise. You never sound creepy, I don’t think someone as adorable as you is capable.”

You smile, color filling your face, pressing a hand to your cheeks to calm the heat flooding there. It’s the cutest thing Bucky has ever seen. “Thank you.”

He looks you at you for a moment before speaking, “No problem, doll.” Then he laughs, “And, Y/N, did you even want to go to the game today?”

You love when he says your name, so much so you’ve suddenly gotten weak in the knees, the two of you slowly walking closer to each other, sides touching every so slightly, stepping in time, on the same beat, “Not at first, no, I don’t really do...”

“Big crowds?” he cocks an eyebrow.

“Social situations,” you finish instead, tucking hair behind your ear. “And, well, that, too.”

He chuckles deeply, sending vibrations from your head to your curled toes, fiddling with a loose strand from your sweater, twirling it around your finger, “I get it. So much... you have no idea.” He doesn’t have to say anything further for you to understand what he’s implying, glancing furtively at his vibranium arm.

You touch his metal arm and he turns towards you out of reflex, the only touches he’s gotten being ones that have intentions of inflicting pain on him, but your touch is gentle and not at all ill-willed, tracing the red star painted on it, feathery light with wide eyes. You take and drink him in instead of pushing him away. He’s a real life piece of a museum, you think, and you’re fascinated.

“I think your arm is pretty cool, actually,” you pull your hand back, his eyes watching your movements cautiously. It comforts you, almost, knowing he’s just as nervous as you are, possibly even more so. “Besides... you’re not your arm or what it symbolizes, you’re you, you’re Bucky.” You laugh and shake your head, giddy all of a sudden when you look at his awestruck expression, “If that makes any sense.”

“You really think that?” his pace slows as you two arrive at the stadium’s gates, your friends waiting just on the other side.

“Of course,” you say it simply.

“Damn, doll, I could kiss you right now,” he teases you, he does that a lot, teasing you as if he knows you wish it wasn’t just teasing, but you know that’s just how he is, flirty and boyish. You brought it out in him. You just didn’t know it yet.

“Tony wouldn’t let you hear the end of it if you did,” you let him know, cursing yourself for playing along when you really need to change the subject before you spontaneously combust.

His hand presses into the small of your back when he sees the large crowds of people blocking the entrance, making you stiffen beneath him, something he notices and secretly revels in, “Ah, doll, but it’d be so worth it,” he whispers by your ear, and you feel the curl of his lips against your skin, the rumble in his voice.

“I don’t know, Stark can be pretty relentless,” you say, breath catching towards the end, when he pulls you to his side as someone almost runs into you, keeping you close. He looks behind him and glares at the man that almost pushed you down, muttering swear words under his breath.

“I can handle him,” he looks at where his hand is and you expect him to shy away, but he only grips tighter, “I’ll let go of you if you’d like.”

“No, no... you should keep doing it,” you move closer to him as you walk, locking eyes with him and he smiles, raising his eyebrows. “For safety reasons.”

“We don’t want you getting trampled, kitten,” he grins boyishly, crinkles by his eyes making a dominant appearance. “I like you in one piece if it’s all the same.”

“I’ll try not to disappoint,” you play along with an equally bright smile, looking ahead of you at your smirking friends, Clint tracing a heart around the two of you and Sam rolling his eyes so hard you’re sure he’s pulled something.

Steve and Nat cast knowing glances to each other, conspiring, no doubt. Tony gives you his best overprotective dad look and Bucky slips his hand to rest on your back once again, looking to you when everyone begins walking to the seats.

You all get to your seats, at the highest level in box seats, thanks to Stark, and the game looks as if it’s about to start. You sit down in one of the middle seats, Nat sitting on one side of you and Bucky down on the other, leaning back in his seat to get comfortable. He smiles at you when you look over and you’re met with a smirk from Nat, smug as hell.

“Don’t,” you lean back in your chair.

“Don’t what?” she leans forward to stare at you, lifting an expert eyebrow, years of practice, she’s so good at that, not letting any emotion appear in her expression, just calculated precision. She shows you what she wants you to see. “Let Bucky know you have the fattest cru-”

“Romanoff!” you clamp a hand over her mouth and she nips at your skin, causing you to pull your hand back, shaking it out.

She smiles knowingly, “I’m sure he already knows, anyway.”

“You don’t mean that.”

“Only time will tell, Y/N, enjoy the game,” her eyes glitter with ulterior motives that spark something, the match to the gasoline. She’s done something.

“Nat,” you lean towards her. “Nat, what the hell did you do?”

She ignores you, only gifting you a smile as an answer, and you’re forced to sit back in your seat, your hand right next to Bucky’s.

“Good afternoon, New York!” the announcer rolls out, voice as loud as booming thunder followed by equally thunderous laughter and applause, reminding you of an old friend of yours. “We have a very special group of guests here with us today, say hello and give a warm welcome to them for our stadium, the Avengers!”

“How cheesy,” you cross your legs, earning a light snort from Bucky, about to pull out your book to read and escape into until you see the jumbo-tron displaying you and your friends, zooming in on Sam, Clint, and Steve.

“I thought you said we were trying not to attract any attention,” Nat side-eyes Tony.

“I lied,” Tony smile, already fixing his hair.

“What do you say, folks, we make some sparks fly and put the kiss cam on a lucky couple?” the obnoxious announcer asks the crowd, earning an uproar of agreement that only amuses Tony.

The kiss cam lands on Clint and Sam for a brief moment, Clint leaning in, “Come on, boo bear.”

Sam looks at him, expression as blank as canvas, “No.”

The audience reacts with bubbling laughter, the camera falling on Natasha and Tony next. Tony has his arms spread out on either side of him with his legs crossed, subtly sliding his jet black shades down the bridge of his nose like he can’t be bothered when he sees the camera, “Oh, hi, didn’t see you there, I’m T-”

“Shut up,” Nat shoots him down with only a stare, flipping off the camera, barely glancing in its direction.

You shriek when it starts turning and instinctively tuck yourself into Bucky, him having pulled up the arm rest just before, he lets out a quiet OOF when you barrel into him, wrapping his arms around you to steady you, keeping you close. Your head buried in his chest, hoping you could just stay here for the rest of the time with no further complications.

“Doll... I might regret asking this, but what are you doing?” he whispers in your hair, just above the shell of your ear.

“I’m sorry, I panicked. I don’t like being the center of attention, not to mention an entire baseball stadium full of attention,” you whisper, muffled into his shirt.

“Then I hate to tell you, kitten, but the cam is on us right now,” he mutters and you extract yourself from out of his arm to see the entire stadium looking in the two of you’s direction, all collectively sucking in one breath.

“I think we’ve found our lucky couple, ladies and gentlemen! But, aw, they look shy, let’s give them a little encouragement, shall we?”

KISS, KISS, KISS!

“Doll,” Bucky whispers to you, both of you looking at each other and perhaps, if it weren’t for your anxiety riddled nerves at the moment, you’d kiss him yourself, for that nickname and stare alone. “We don’t have to do it.”

“I don’t know if we’d get away with that.”

His cheeks are filled with bright shades of scarlet, you almost want to laugh at that, the Winter Soldier, blushing because of you. It brings a smile to your face looking at it, and your hands are now touching, close enough to him for you see the shadows of his face and the stubble on his jaw. How gold flecks line his blown irises, tinged with icy blue and quartz.

“I’ll just kiss your cheek, then, is that alright?” he asks, tentatively, moving only slightly closer as the crowd grows impatient. You nod slowly.

He leans forward and presses a soft kiss to the corner of your jaw, missing your cheek and you feel his lips curl against your skin at the way your face heats up beneath him, gripping his hand.

“You seem to have enjoyed that,” he whispers by your ear once again.

“Come on, lovebirds, give us a real kiss! We won’t leave you alone until you do it,” and the chanting rises up again, started up by your instigating friends.

“To be honest, I didn’t want it to happen like this,” he mumbles, his chest rising and falling, eyes trained on your mouth.

“For what to happen?” you say, but he doesn’t hear you, and it might as well be summer, you’re burning under your clothes, forehead laden with nervous sweat and you’re lost for breath.

He half smiles, “Me kissing you.”

You grin, burning brightly, about to question it further until you’re drowned out by the rest of the stadium, in need of their fix of drama you haven’t yet supplied them with. Bucky finally just slides his hand to the back of your neck, cradling your head in the palm of his hand, tangling fingers in your hair when he pulls you to him, his lips colliding with yours, simply, completely, and mind-numbingly well.

The crowd cheers but you’ve drowned them out, hearing only the loud thumping of blood pounding in your ears, his calloused hands on your skin, and the intoxicating scent of his cologne. And you know you need to pull away, but the man is taking you apart and putting you back together all at once, you’re frozen in place. He’s reached into your chest and has made your heart beat for you when it has stopped on its own. The questions that have plagued your mind in the months of knowing the ex-assassin, all finally answered with one painfully complicated action.

His thumb brushes over your cheekbone and traces a star into your skin, marking you as his, like the one on his arm, taking his time to kiss you sweetly and as masterfully as possible. And his tongue, his tongue, sinfully drawing over your bottom lip and luring out your own, fighting for dominance that you’ve already given unto him. You’ve fallen into and for him, unable to resurface. But you’re not sure you want to. Because there’s a reason it’s falling in love, it’s sudden, abrupt, and scary, and it’s just hit you now how seriously and far you’ve fallen. It’s the grand canyon of loves.

And the kiss was only thirty seconds.

The applause that follows you breaking away with a gasp is close to deafening, Nat being one of the loudest right by your ear, but you’re staring at him, his swollen, pink mouth, flushed cheeks, and mussed up hair, busy and ruffled from your wandering hands.

“Now, that is what I’m talking about, ladies and gentlemen. Give it up for the loving couple! That was one steamy kiss.”

“Indeed it was,” Nat says smugly, smirking to herself.

He searches your eyes and smiles apprehensively, reaching out to swipe his thumb over your bottom lip, trying to make sure this really happened, “I think we need to talk.”

You nod quickly, “I think we do.”

You were so fired.

#bucky barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes drabble #marvel fanfiction #Avengers infinity war #avengers #steve rogers x reader #natasha romanoff x reader #tony stark x reader #sweet #fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #story #i cant with this #sweetness #fluffy

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aliciameade · 5 years

Text

Fade Into You - Ch. 1

Title: Fade Into You (Chapter 1 of 5) Author: aliciameade Rating: T Pairing: Beca/Chloe Summary: Tip for newlyweds: send a wedding invite to every billionaire whose address you can find because it's a 50/50 chance their assistants just send you a perfunctory gift without ever wondering who the hell you are. Or: Beca had a really bad terrible idea when she got tired of being broke in New York.

Also on AO3 and FFnet, but I probably can’t link there idk.

Beca wasn’t prepared for how expensive it was to live in New York City. Sure, she’d done her research; she knew it would be costly, but just how costly it was was wreaking havoc on her bank account. Rent, transportation, groceries, household necessities and the very rare luxuries like a concert or theater ticket here or there to keep her sanity had her living paycheck to paycheck. Even bringing two roommates with her to cram into the tiny Brooklyn studio didn’t help her live any more comfortably (considering only one of them chipped in for rent).

Of course, it probably helped her afford to eat.

Whatever. The point was that it was not quite the life she envisioned for herself once she landed what she thought was a Big Job.

But at least she had her friends.

“Why do I have so many cousins? And why are they all getting married?”

Beca watched Chloe sitting at their tiny dining table on Sunday afternoon (if you could even call it that) as she tossed aside a just-opened fancy envelope and what Beca assumed to be a wedding invitation. As far as she could remember, it was the fourth Chloe had received so far that year. “How many cousins do you have?”

“Sixteen. And I’m the baby of the family so they’re all either married or about to be. And here I am.” She gestured at nothing specific and sighed. “I can barely pay my share of the groceries. I can’t afford to go to all these weddings so I need to send something off their registry, but I can’t afford that, either.”

“Weddings feel like a ploy to get free shit from everyone you met once in your life,” Beca said as she watched Chloe stress out. “Like, congratulations on deciding to spend your life with one person. Why do I have to reward that?”

“It’s like an expectation. You either have to go to the wedding or send a gift. Or both!” Chloe slid her chair back from the table and took the two steps needed to get to their bed which she threw herself on a bit dramatically. “I’m just going to elope.”

She liked being on the same page as Chloe. “And miss out on all the free swag?” Beca said as she nudged Chloe’s foot with her own.

“I don’t want to be part of the problem!”

“Okay, okay!” Beca laughed. “So elope. Must be nice, though: send out a bunch of invitations to people you know won’t come and get a bunch of free stuff in return.”

“I know,” Chloe mumbled into her pillow. “It’s so messed up.”

A devious thought slid through Beca’s mind and she paused the music she’d been playing. “I need a new Keurig; ours is going to die any day now. I can feel it.”

Chloe turned onto her side to look up at Beca. “What does that have to do with anything?”

She closed her laptop and slid down to lie next to Chloe, eye-to-eye. “I have an idea. But before I tell you, I blame it entirely on Amy’s influence.”

“Why Amy?”

“You’ll see. Now hear me out. What if we sent out wedding invitations saying we’re getting married in, like, Fiji where no one we know can afford to go, and set up a wedding registry somewhere.”

“Beca, that’s, like, fraud. No wonder you blamed it on Amy.” Chloe frowned at her. “And no one would believe we’re getting married anyway.”

“Why not?”

“Because we’re not even dating!” Chloe said with a laugh. “And you don’t even like girls!”

Oh. Right. There were those little details that the people who would make sense to invite to their wedding would know she and Chloe weren’t together. Not to mention the giant elephant in Beca’s mental room that she was actually very into girls and very, very into Chloe.

Except literally no one in her new adult life knew either of those facts about her. The bisexual thing was weird to bring up unprompted at this point, and when she started dating Jesse in college, everyone just assumed she was straight and made it even weirder to try to correct.

And the Chloe thing, well...that was all sorts of messy and complicated.

“Okay, first of all, a person can fall in love with someone who’s not their usual...type, so anyone who says shit about that can fuck right off.”

Chloe seemed a bit surprised by her declaration but waved for her to continue. “And the fact that it’s me?”

She had to stop herself from saying, “It’s everything.” Instead, she said, “We’ve basically been living together for six years. I don’t think it’s that far-fetched.”

Chloe was quiet for a moment, thinking, and then a slow smile spread across her face. “Beca Mitchell, you devious little devil. You actually think this could work.”

“Well, why wouldn’t it? If Aubrey was getting married in, like, Fiji and you couldn’t afford to go, you’d send her something off her registry, right? That’s what you just said.”

“I would never miss Aubrey’s wedding,” Chloe said earnestly. “She’s my best friend. And she wouldn’t miss mine, either.”

“Okaaaaaay,” Beca drawled. “So we don’t invite our current friends. Or immediate family. Cousins, old coworkers, and friends from high school.”

“Can I invite Mrs. Higgins, my 8th grade choir teacher? She was my favorite teacher.”

“Yeah, I mean as long as she won’t try to show up—wait. You’d actually do this?”

“You’ve had worse ideas.”

“Have I though?” Beca shook her head. “This is dumb. Forget it.” She put away her computer and rolled out of bed. “I’m going to Target if you need anything. I’m out of conditioner.”

“I don’t think I do, but I’ll come with you.”

~ ~ ~

When Beca came home from work late on Monday, Chloe was laying in bed, laptop propped on her thighs. She was intently focused on whatever it was she was doing and didn’t look up at Beca’s entrance.

“Hey, weirdo,” Beca said as she kicked out of her shoes and pulled her own computer out of her bag to toss it onto the bed while she changed into comfy lounging clothes. “What are you doing?”

Chloe ignored her for a few more seconds before tapping the trackpad with particularly notable resolution and sitting up. “Hey!”

“Yeah, hey,” Beca laughed. “Seriously, what are you doing? Caught up in an intense Pinterest spiral?”

Chloe shook her head. “Come here; I want to show you something.”

“Is this going to be puppies or something dirty?” Beca knelt on their bed and walked her way up until she was sitting next to Chloe. There was no telling what Chloe had up her sleeve whenever she told Beca she wanted to show her something.

“Neither. Look.” She turned her screen toward Beca.

“What am I looking at?” she asked after a few seconds. “Because that looks like a wedding invitation with our names on it.”

“That’s what it is.”

She looked at the invitation on Chloe’s screen again and then looked at her. Chloe was biting her lip and almost buzzing with excitement. “And why is that a thing that exists?”

“I made it!”

Beca rolled her eyes. “And why did you make it?”

“We need invitations if we’re going to invite people to our wedding.”

“That idea was terrible! I told you to forget it; how much time did you spend on this?” She grabbed the computer away from Chloe so she could zoom in on it. The stationery had been painted with watercolors. It was quite pretty and one Beca wouldn’t be opposed to choosing for her actual wedding.

“A couple hours. I went with a silver and sage palette. I don’t think we’re a couple who has pink in their wedding.”

“Yeah, no,” Beca said, only half-listening because her brain was pretty hung up at the moment seeing the words ‘The Wedding of Beca and Chloe’ in script. “No pink.”

“I just put Fiji because you mentioned it yesterday but we can pick something else. And a date. Oh, and we’re registered at Amazon and IKEA.”

Picking a wedding locale and date with Chloe? Sure. Cool. “Wait. You already registered us?”

“Well, no, not yet,” Chloe scoffed as if Beca’s question was absurd. “That’s what’s on the registry cards that go with the invitations. We need to make our registries together next weekend.”

“I’m not sure if I should be concerned or proud that you’re so willing to go along with my terrible idea.”

“What’s the worst that could happen?” Chloe said with a shrug.

Beca was pretty sure a lot of bad things could happen like someone showing up to a non-existent wedding. Then again, all they’d really have to do is apologize and explain that the wedding was called off last-minute and point out their would-be guests would now have a vacation in Fiji without wedding activities to inconvenience them.

“Several things come to mind,” she said as she returned the computer.

Chloe elbowed her. “Okay. We need this to be far enough in advance that it doesn’t feel shotgun, but not too far that everyone can rearrange their schedules for it.”

“So it’s like I forgot to send out the invitations like I said I would and you found them in a box two months after they were supposed to have gone out?”

Chloe looked at her, holding her gaze. “That sounds exactly like something you would do.”

“And we should have it on, like, a Wednesday so it’s super inconvenient. With no holidays around it that people can use to save vacation days.”

“I feel like you’re a secret evil genius,” Chloe said as she flipped through the calendar on her computer. “How about October 2?”

“Perfect.”

They then spent more than an hour Googling Fiji and wedding location options. It took so long because they kept bickering about the venues; Chloe loved one but Beca hated it. Then Beca loved one and Chloe hated it. Every fifteen minutes or so, one of them would remind the other this was all fake and it didn’t matter, and the other would argue that it still had to seem real. They’d finally settled on a resort located on the edge of a rainforest that had more than enough amenities for a destination wedding.

“Well?” Chloe asked when she finished entering the details on the invitation. “Good?”

Beca stared at the screen and what they’d created inviting recipients to their wedding. It made her a little queasy so she swallowed hard. “Perfect.”

They ordered a set of one hundred invitations, response cards, registry cards, and envelopes for it all and agreed to split the expense equally.

“Did we seriously just do that?” Beca asked as she put away her credit card. “That shit is nonrefundable. We just burned five hundred dollars.”

“Think of it as a down payment on my new dinette set.”

“Your new dinette? Pretty sure that’s going to be ours, babe.”

Chloe cocked an eyebrow at her. “Babe?”

Beca blushed. “Wedding fever. Shut up.”

“You’re adorable,” Chloe said with a laugh as she grabbed Beca by the chin to give her a shake. “Careful, or I might marry you for real.”

She blushed even harder, her heart getting lodged in her throat. “Yeah, right, dude.”

“We’ll see,” Chloe said with a wink before hopping off the bed to leave Beca behind, heart still pounding. “It’s my turn to make dinner. What do you want?”

~~~

“How many names do you have so far?” Chloe asked from her lounging spot lying backward on their bed, feet rocking back and forth next to Beca.

Beca looked at the spreadsheet on her computer; she hated spreadsheets. Loathed them. But Chloe created one for their wedding invitation list so she could have Staples print the addresses on the envelopes once they arrived. Had they planned ahead like actual would-be brides, they’d have had the list ready to import when they ordered the invitations to let the printer do that. But alas. “Thirty-six. It’s hard to figure out who makes sense to invite to my wedding but wouldn’t actually come.”

“If you can get to forty, I can make up the difference.”

“I should invite the CEO of BFD; it’s not like he’d ever come. I’ve never even met him. He’d probably pick one of the expensive gifts, too.”

Chloe sat up quickly and Beca tried not to think about how strong her abs must be to do that. “Beca.”

“What?”

“You’re a genius.” She sat forward so suddenly Beca had a fleeting [stupid] thought that Chloe was about to kiss her but all she did was turn around to sit next to her and look at the list on Beca’s screen. “But don’t add him; I don’t want to put your career at risk. Put your douche boss from Residual Heat instead; there’s no way he’d come.”

“O...kay,” Beca said as she typed his name. She’d have to look up her old studio’s mailing address later. “But why am I a genius?”

“We can invite a handful of CEOs and tech bigwigs who won’t know whether or not we work for them. We send it to their office and their assistant will just buy something off our registry without bothering to look us up.”

“Should I be concerned that your mind is this twisted?” Beca asked as Chloe commandeered her laptop to open Google and start searching.

“Did you forget this was your idea to begin with?”

She watched Chloe pull up the address for the headquarters of Apple. “A little ambitious, don’t you think?”

“Are you kidding? The bigger the company the bigger the chance we get a ‘declines with regret’ and you get that Ableton Push you think I didn’t see you add to our Amazon registry.”

Beca grumbled under her breath to hide her guilt. She’d gotten a little click-happy the other night after a couple beers and added a few non-traditional items to their list like high-end mixing equipment and the new Xbox.

“I’m just going to pick ten companies from the Forbes 500. Let’s see what happens. And now you don’t have to come up with the rest of your list!”

“Sounds great,” she said with a tight-lipped smile.

Something in her gut was telling her they were taking this much too far. But that new Ableton was so, so pretty…

~~~

“Becs, honey,” Chloe said when Beca opened the door to head to work.

Beca turned, patting herself down to make sure she had her keys and phone. “What’s up?”

“Don’t forget to mail the invitations.” She smiled at Beca and pointed at the shoe box on the table containing their pretty little scams. Amy had stuffed the envelopes for them last night and was naturally agreeable to their little business venture. They’d obliged her request to add an absurd inflatable bounce house to their list as payment for her help as long as she promised to never try to set it up in the apartment.

Beca was pretty sure Amy had her fingers crossed behind her back when she agreed.

She picked it up and rapped her fingernails on it. “Are you sure we should do this? I feel kind of guilty.”

“We got our list down to eighty-nine people we barely know—or don’t know at all. It’s going to be fine. Don’t worry.”

“Yeah, okay,” Beca said with a nod, though being told not to worry didn’t magically erase her concerns. “You’re right. I’ll see you after work. It’s my turn to cook, so text me what you want and I’ll pick it up on my way home.”

“I’m totes going to be the one who actually cooks in this marriage, aren’t I?”

“Trust me; it’s for the best. I’ll see you later.”

“Bye, sweetie!”

~~~

Beca dropped the stack of thick, fancy envelopes into the outgoing mail drop on the corner by her subway stop on her way to work, and that was it.

The deed was done.

~ ~ ~

Three days later...

When Beca came home from work she found Chloe at the table but she wasn’t sipping her usual tea and wearing a smile at Beca’s return.

Instead, she was visibly nervous, her arms crossed and eyes fixed on her untouched tea.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Beca asked and moved to sit across from her. “Are you okay?”

“Promise you won’t get mad?” Chloe said in a small voice, eyes refusing to meet Beca’s.

“It’s hard to promise that when I don’t know what’s wrong, but I’ll try. What’s going on?”

Chloe closed her eyes and sighed. “My parents got one of our invitations.”

“What?!” Beca almost launched from her chair; she gripped the edge of the table to stay put and she saw Chloe flinch at her outburst. She tried to lower voice when she demanded, “How?”

“I checked the spreadsheet because I know I didn’t put them on it.” She sounded on the verge of tears. “But it looks like it got corrupted, like it combined with my Christmas card list.”

Beca’s blood ran cold. “My dad’s on your Christmas card list, too.” She’d barely finished the sentence when her phone started ringing in her pocket. She could hear Chloe’s text alerts almost non-stop from where her phone sat on her bedside table. “Who else ended up on the list?”

Chloe closed her eyes and shook her head. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Beca pulled her phone from her pocket; she already knew. She didn’t even bother looking at the screen as she swiped the screen to answer it. “Hey, Dad.”

“You and Chloe are getting married?!” he crowed into the phone. “Why didn’t you say anything sooner? Oh, Beca I’m so happy for you both; you’re perfect together!”

“We’re not—wait.” She straightened. “Huh?”

“I knew it was only a matter of time.”

She looked at Chloe across the table who was oblivious to what her father was saying. She seemed to assume it to be terrible the way she was hiding half her face behind her hand. She looked miserable.

“Yeah…” Beca replied. She felt bad; this was all her doing and now Chloe’s going to be humiliated having to tell everyone in her life that she tried to do something dumb. Or that her fake relationship failed. And all her cousins were getting married… “We’re...really happy.”

Chloe’s hand fell and her eyes went wide. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

“And I’m so happy for you. The date is going to be tough for me to get away in the middle of the semester, but there’s no way I’m going to miss my little girl’s big day. Is there a block of rooms reserved for guests? Should I just give your name when I call?”

“Um, no. Sorry. We...we splurged on the trip so we couldn’t lock down rooms for everyone.”

“Don’t you worry; I’ll take care of the rooms. It’s the least I can do. I’ll call the resort and give them my information.” It was Beca’s turn to cover her eyes. “Thanks, Dad. That’s so generous.”

“Anything for you and my soon-to-be daughter-in-law.”

“Thanks. Listen, I just got home and Chloe and I have a lot to talk about. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”

“Sure, pumpkin.”

Beca ended the call and set down her phone with a long exhale. “Shit.”

“What happened?” Chloe asked sounding as sheepish as she did excited.

“He’s...going to pay for everyone’s rooms at the resort for our wedding.”

Chloe blinked hard and sat back. “What?”

“He thinks we’re perfect together. And he wasn’t surprised at all. Well, he was surprised by the wedding. Not about us being together.” Which we’re not. “What did your parents say?”

Chloe cleared her throat. “They offered to pay for the rehearsal dinner and the reception.”

“What?” Beca said with a barked laugh.

“They’re over the moon for us. Asked what took us so long.” She looked like she wanted to disappear into her chair, which was a unique state for Chloe to be in.

“But you didn’t tell them it’s fake.”

“Did you tell your dad it’s fake?” Chloe countered. “No, you didn’t. You just went along with it.”

Beca sank into her chair, too. “And now our parents are ecstatic we’re getting married.” There was a lot to unpack with that fact and all that came with it. Chloe’s texts were still chiming and a minute later, Beca’s started up, too. “Seriously, who else got invited?”

With a sigh, Chloe slid a piece of paper across the table. Printed on it was a spreadsheet set up just like what they’d made to send to Staples, except it was a mish-mash of their distant cousins, millionaire executives, and people they actually knew. Their parents. The owner of the vet clinic Chloe was interning at.

Aubrey, Emily, and the rest of the Bellas.

“Oh, my God, how did this happen?” Beca said with a groan as she crumpled the paper and tossed it toward the trash can. (She missed.)

“I told you: I don’t know! All I can think is that my files were named List1 and List2 and somehow they got combined or maybe I didn’t delete everything from one of them before I saved it.” She reached across the table and grabbed Beca’s hands. “Beca, I’m so, so sorry. I’ll take care of everything. I’ll let everyone know it was just a prank gone wrong.”

Beca was about to agree when she remembered how excited her father sounded. “Your parents were really happy?”

Chloe managed a sad laugh; she still looked on the verge of tears and Beca couldn’t blame her. She felt like she might cry herself. “My mom said she was starting to get worried you were never going to propose.”

“Oh, my God,” Beca said, blushing hard. “She didn’t even know that we were dating. Or, that we weren’t dating. Whatever. What did you say?”

“I told her I asked you.”

“You proposed to me?!” Beca scoffed. “As if you would! I would totally ask you to marry me before you even had a chance!”

Chloe blinked at her, her worry and sadness starting to fade into a soft smile. “You would?”

Beca realized what she’d said and shook her head. “Nevermind. I should have looked at the envelopes before I dropped them off.”

“You didn’t have a reason to. This isn’t your fault.”

“Except that it was all my idea?” Beca said with a crooked smile. “You’d think Amy would have realized they were wrong when she was stuffing them. She knew the plan.”

Chloe sighed and let go of Beca’s hands to run her own through her hair. “Something tells me she knew they got messed up.”

“Why would you think that?”

Chloe shot her a look.

“Because it’s Amy. Right.” She sighed, too. “I need a drink.” Beca stood up and headed for the fridge, the top of which held their liquor collection. “What do you want?”

“Whiskey, neat,” Chloe answered as she pushed aside her tea.

“Yeah. Me, too.”

~~~

They waited until they were both two whiskeys in before they agreed to get on Skype with Aubrey.

“This is how you tell me you two are a thing?” Aubrey said as she waved the invitation in front of her camera. “A little warning would have been nice.”

“It all happened so fast, Bree,” Chloe said. “I guess living together in such close quarters...well, it brought some things to light.”

It was so convincing that Beca almost believed her. Except she didn’t know why they were lying to Aubrey. Not wanting to immediately disappoint their excited parents was one thing, but going along with it with Aubrey… She nudged Chloe from her spot next to her where they sat closely in bed so they could both be mostly in frame and threw her a look she hoped read, What the hell are you doing?

Chloe just winked at her and slipped her arm behind her to wrap around her waist and pull her closer.

“Well, as disappointed as I am that you didn’t think to tell me, I’m thrilled for you both.”

“You are?” Beca scoffed.

“Why wouldn’t I be? You two are good for each other. And I know you’ll take care of my best friend.”

Beca had to fight hard to not blush. “Yeah. Well...that’s the plan.”

“So, Fiji? I’ve always wanted to go! Do you have a wedding planner? And Chloe, I can’t believe you haven’t asked me to be your Maid of Honor yet! We made a pact!”

Chloe cleared her throat. “Right! I was getting to that! I’d love it if you’d be my Maid of Honor.”

“What are you doing?” Beca muttered from the side of her mouth.

“Asking my bestie to be in our wedding,” Chloe muttered in return.

“I’d be honored!” Aubrey said with a bright grin. “Now you have to let me take over the planning. You can’t do this all by yourselves. Put me in touch with your contact at the resort and I’ll take it over. What have you arranged so far?”

“Well, we could barely get the invitations out without trouble…” Chloe started and Beca elbowed her. “So we haven’t really had a chance to get going yet. We haven’t even put down the deposit to reserve the space yet—”

“Don’t say another word,” Aubrey said with her hand up. “I’m going to take care of that as my gift to you both.”

“Thanks, Bree. That means so much.” Chloe grasped Beca’s hand and pulled it up to kiss it.

Beca just stared at her in shock.

“Right, Becs?”

“Uh, yeah. Right. Thanks, Aubrey,” Beca offered. “We gotta go, though,” she added, desperate to end the torture.

“Okay. Remember to send me that info and I’ll send you the confirmations once I get it taken care of this week.”

“Totes. I’ll text you later.”

“Perfect. Have a good night, you two!”

“Bye!” Chloe chirped and Beca offered a weak wave as Chloe disconnected the call.

“Oh, my God, Chloe, we can’t keep this up!” she said as soon as the screen was blank. “What are we doing?!”

“Everyone’s so excited for us; I don’t want to disappoint them.” Chloe turned a little to look at her and she was so close Beca could see the different specks of light and dark in Chloe’s eyes. “We’ll tell them soon.”

“Aubrey’s going to spend money on this. We can’t let her do that.”

“I’ll wait a few days to send her the info and then we’ll just tell it’s off.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

~~~

Not two hours had passed when both their phones chimed with a group text from Aubrey to the two of them. Chloe was taking a bath when it came in so Beca opened it and read it aloud so she could hear it.

“Was too excited! Looked up the resort info and got it booked. Oh, my God. They said they didn’t have any record of your interest—gee, I wonder why—and the day was already booked for some corporate retreat but I got them to move it for the wedding. Of course she did. Good thing you let me take care of it! You might not have had a venue. Damn it, Chloe!”

“Well, it’s not my fault!”

“Then whose fault is it?!”

Nothing but silence followed from behind the shower curtain.

(Chapter 2)

#bechloe #fdau #fake dating au #WITH A TWIST #fanfic #fade into you

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sirkkasnow · 5 years

Text

03 Semi-Legitimate Uses Of Gunpowder

Ao3 link

07/04/13 Thursday

The household settled into a comfortable routine over the next few days. Chaos was such an underlying constant in Gravity Falls, particularly with the kids around, that throwing another body into the mix made very little difference.

Clary rose early once she’d recovered from the initial shock. Summer schedules for both kids and adults ran late, which made it easy for her to slip into the kitchen before most everyone else. She’d asked Stan whether she could help cook, he’d offhandedly said sure, and the next thing he knew she was baking things.

The contents of the fridge began to dwindle in interesting ways. Frittatas jammed with too many vegetables materialized on the breakfast table. The sour-cream coffee cake she’d made on Tuesday morning was down to crumbs by Wednesday.

“You’re a guest, not the cook,” Stan argued in exasperation that morning in the crowded kitchen. He dug out a second wedge of egg-potato-and-green-stuff from one of the cast iron skillets.

“If you guys ate anything other than pancakes for breakfast, I’d join you, but I like my eggs. Besides, I don’t see you complaining.” Clary eyed his plate, scrubbing down utensils. Her kerchief for the day – there was always a kerchief for the day, wrapped twice and knotted neatly at her throat, the colors and patterns as varied as Mabel’s sweaters – was a splashy watercolor design of pale yellow daisies. “I’m used to cooking for an army anyway.”

Stan cocked a brow at her in question, and caught the brief flicker of her smile. “My place in Baltimore is this huge brownstone. I’ve got eight bedrooms. I ran a boarding house as a sideline, because what else can you do with eight bedrooms?”

“That sounds exhaustin’.”

“Running tours isn’t? I liked it. Lots of law students, a few graduate accountants.” She chuckled over his groan. “Yes, a very, very nerdy household. We ran DD&MD once a week for years.” Stan saw Dipper perk up from the far side of the kitchen table and started a mental countdown to major geekery. “With that many rules lawyers and number-crunchers around the table things got pretty sidetracked at times.” Clary settled into one of the two free chairs, Mabel leaning over to peep her plate.

“Grunkle Stan? Have you got enough left for one more Stancake? Clary, you have to try one!”

“I don’t usually do pancakes, hon.” Clary begged off gently like she had every morning.

“You don’t get it.” Mabel leaned in, eyes widening. “These are Stancakes. They’re unique. You can’t possibly enjoy the full Pines experience without sampling Stancakes.”

Stan rolled his eyes, took up a rubber spatula and coaxed the last of the batter out of its bowl while Mabel made her pitch. Just enough left for a half-size flapjack, fine, that’d do. He finished that off in the skillet while Clary half-heartedly protested, then slid it onto her plate alongside what was left of her eggs. Mabel applied a river of maple syrup and a scatter of edible glitter before any counter-arguments could be offered.

Clary blinked at the twinkling result for a few blank seconds. “Nothing ventured, nothing gained,” she finally said, and dug in. Mabel stuck out two thumbs up in approval.

Once the Pines clan scattered after breakfast, Clary had been staking out the battered old couch on the porch. Stan had passed her on the way out to the car two mornings in a row now. She wore a wireless earpiece and balanced a laptop on her knees, the picture of professionalism in her summer togs. Sometimes he’d catch bits of what sounded like German as she talked to the air, cajoling or explaining or arguing with whoever was on the far side of the line.

This time he caught her with the computer set to one side, speaking what was definitely German in a soft tone at odds with the usual steel. She spotted him as he tried to slide by and simply relocated her quiet conversation, slipping into the shade of the pines for half an hour before returning to brisk business.

He made a point of keeping an eye on her, and calling out when it was clear she was off the phone. “Hey, Clary!”

“What’s up, Stan?” She leaned back into the cushions as she squinted out at him.

Lawyer humor had turned out to be a rich vein, if a somewhat single-minded one. “What’s the difference between a good lawyer and a bad lawyer?”

She sighed at him in grudging amusement. “A bad lawyer makes your case drag out for years. A good one makes it last even longer. What’s the difference between a good lawyer and a great lawyer?”

“A good lawyer knows the law, a great one knows the judge!” Stan actually chuckled to himself over that one. He straightened, shrugging a shoulder so he could swab off the drop of sweat stubbornly stuck at the tip of his nose.

“You’re not going to outlast me on those, you know.” Clary set aside the computer and strolled over to the wagon, quirking him a momentary grin as she headed around to the back.

“Maybe not. I’m self-taught when it comes to screwing clients over. You’ve got the degree.” Her faint, indignant snort was just audible around the corner. “Whatcha need?” Stan braced his feet and stretched, spine creaking, then came around to see what she was up to.

“The Fourth is tomorrow and I did something a little reckless. I keep forgetting I have these.” She was waist-deep in the wayback, shifting aside a couple of blankets to reveal a flash of brightly-printed color on cheap glossy paper.

“You brought fireworks.” Stan reached past her to hoist the crate. She’d picked out a deluxe assortment of the biggest roadside skyrockets to be had, and he didn’t bother to stifle a twinge of delighted surprise at her audacity.

“Don’t look so shocked. These are legal in Wyoming and there are stands all along the highway at the state borders.”

“All of which have prominent signage sayin’ it’s illegal to transport ‘em across state lines.”

Clary looked fleetingly guilty, then defiant. “You’re right. I read them all and then I ignored them. I’m guessing you know what you’re doing with low-yield explosives. Are you going to help me fire these off or what?”

“You are in luck, Miz Merrick, because I am what passes for the fireworks committee around here, an’ you’ve just bought yourself a ringside seat to this year’s display.” Stan winked and tucked the crate under one arm. “We’re doin’ it on the lake this year. We’re gonna use the old dock and I’ve actually got a permit this time ‘cause the mayor’s a pushover! Which of course just meant it was a little easier to get hold of the good stuff.”

The faint smirk on her lips widened slowly. “Excellent. I was hoping we’d get to blow something up. So we’re going to fire all of these off when the time comes?”

“That we are. Congratulations, you’ve been deputized! Hope you can handle loud noises.”

“I can handle myself just fine, Pines.”

The morning of the Fourth was spent in a frenzy of preparation. Soos, Melody and a grudging but overtime-paid Wendy had the moneymaking end of the venture under control – they would be running concessions at lakeside all evening.

Stan’s job was of course the attractions end of things, which meant explosions, which meant he and Ford were preparing endless mortar racks and crates of mostly-legal fireworks.

Clary, as the spare adult, was recruited into assisting with the munitions. Soos loaned her a paint-spattered canvas work shirt that draped her frame like a tent. Borrowed rubber gloves were cinched in at her wrists with masking tape. Under Ford’s distracted tutelage, she worked patiently on splicing shell fuses into daisy chains.

Stan watched her quick hands for a curious minute. She put as much careful focus into this as she’d put into the hawkweasel thing, perhaps with more concern for potentially blowing off a finger.

They ferried everything down to the lake in relays that afternoon. The oldest, most distant, most splintery of the lake’s docks was where they’d been given permission to set up. The three adults did the bulk of the hauling, dragging setpieces out along the battered planks.

Stan consulted a scrawled-pencil sketch of the layout to keep things more or less in order. Dipper and Mabel were in charge of setting up ‘command central’, which consisted of a few folding chairs, a burn-scarred camp table, and a bulky battery pack for a motley collection of goose-necked lab lamps.

It was after six before they finished most of it. Clary flopped down on the edge of the dock with feet dangling, reading her way through an Oregon fire-safety manual. Mabel and Dipper kicked off their shoes and dashed off down the town beach to mingle with the gathering tourists and locals. Picnics outfitted with grills and beach umbrellas were in full swing by now and the scent of charred hot dogs drifted on the still air.

“Keys, Stanley,” called Ford. Stan tossed them over without bothering to look up. “I’ll be back with the control console in a bit. You’ve got everything you need?”

“We could set all this stuff off by hand, y’know.”

“And leave lengths of fuse lying all over the place? This is so much safer!”

“Not quite as much fun.” Stan waved his brother off, then collected the toolbox and the random bits of picnic stuff they’d hauled down to make the wait until dark more comfortable.

“This is all they’ve got?” Clary muttered, more to herself than to Stan as he hauled over the cooler and set it at her side, elbowing the lid back to fish out a couple of sodas. “This is a twelve-page pamphlet. Most of which consists of ‘do not set up an amateur fireworks display.’” She glanced up to him, accepting a can. “Ford told me that he and the kids actually built a couple of these shells.”

“Chemistry lessons.” Stan shrugged. “Ford knows what he’s doin’, we’ll be fine. We’re gonna hold those until last so that the kiddos can help fire them off. Besides, we’re no amateurs. I’ve been doin’ this for years. Maybe not on this scale.” He looked down the dock along the rows of milk-crate mortar racks, rather pleased with himself. “Usually we’re just firin’ the suckers off from the roof of the Shack for parties.”

“So you’re a pyrotechnician, among your many other titles.” Clary popped her soda can and tapped its edge lightly against his. “Cheers. Nice layout, though I bet it’s just as much fun to improvise.”

“Probably more. This’s a lot of work, but Soos has been layin’ plans since springtime, and what’m I gonna do, say no? If this goes off well he’ll probably pick it up for future years. Not sure if Ford an’ I’ll be here for the next round.”

Stan pivoted and propped himself against the nearest piling, looking out across the lake at the increasing bustle near the main beach. “Though I gotta admit this is a nice way to blow a couple months and we should probably take advantage of the kids’ vacations until they get tired of us.”

“You’ve got just the two grandies, then?” Clary gestured vaguely off down the shoreline. “None of your own?”

“Nah. Too much goin’ on in my life during that stretch.” Way, way too much, he thought. “You?”

“No. Those stars never aligned for me. I’ve got a niece and a nephew, and she’s got two little girls, so I have grand-niblings of my own.”

“Married?” She didn’t sport a ring, but who knew?

“Widowed.”

Oops. “Sorry ‘bout that.”

“Don’t be. It’s been a long time. You?”

“Married…for six hours. That didn’t end real well.”

She chuckled hollowly into her can. “Neither did mine. Here’s to independence.”

“Siblings?”

“One older sister. You’ve got Ford, and I guess a brother?”

“Shermie, yeah. He’s what passes for the normal one.”

“Someone’s got to be the white sheep in every family. I can assure you that it wasn’t me in mine.” Watching her relax to this extent was a pleasant surprise. Clary had an elbow propped on a bent knee and the starch had gone out of her smile.

“I don’t believe that for a minute.” Stan made a show of looking her up and down, and she went faintly pink under the scrutiny. As usual she was color coordinated, today’s kerchief mostly red with bits of white and blue, hair clipped back with something glassy and scarlet. “Law-abidin’ lady like yourself? Okay, so maybe you smuggle fireworks every now and then, but who wouldn’t?”

“This is my summer for living dangerously, and believe me I have no idea what I’m doing.” Clary looked off down the shoreline to where Mabel was jumping up and down and waving, then twitched in surprise as her phone started to jangle. “Whoops – I think I’m being summoned. See you when we get closer to dusk?”

“Yep, I’m gonna guard the ordnance, I guess, Wendy’s crew probably has runnin’ bets on whether or not they can swipe a few rockets.” Stan tipped his can back to drain it. “Mind haulin’ over my chair while you’re up?”

“Got it.” Clary levered herself upright, dusted off her backside and jogged down to the pier’s end, returning with a folded lawn chair. “Don’t nod off, now.”

“What, with all this thrillin’ readin’ material? Don’t worry about me, kid.” Stan waved her off, set up the chair and settled down with the safety manual. He was out like a light within ten minutes, dozing comfortably in the late-afternoon sun.

He snapped awake twice as the sunlight shaded into deeper and deeper gold. Each time he winged an empty pop can with terrifying accuracy at overcurious kids, sending them scattering. Wendy’s crew, true to form, showed up as the bluff’s shadow crept across the lake.

Stan pinged Thompson in the head with his last empty. He watched them take off and sat up grumbling to look along the shoreline. The sun was nearly down by now, though it’d be forty minutes yet to full dark. Clary and the kids were making their way back, feet splashing at the water’s edge. Right on time.

Unfortunately the control console and Ford hadn’t shown up yet. That was going to be a problem. Stan checked his watch, huffed in frustration and levered himself upright to start setting manual fuses on the closer fireworks racks.

“Kids!” His voice boomed out across the water. “Need you t’check on Poindexter. Clary, you good to set the trigger wires for the far racks?” He waved an arm vaguely at the end of the dock as the three broke into a jog. Dipper dropped off a paper bag that smelled temptingly of grilled stuff on top of the cooler as he hopped onto the worn planks.

“Got it, Grunkle Stan!” Mabel tapped at her phone as the other two split up. Clary threaded her way between milk crates down to the far end and back again to pay out lengths of trigger wire a few at a time. Dipper rummaged up a roll of masking tape, a marker and Stan’s creased layout sketch, and started labeling wires as he tacked them to the dock.

“Five minutes! Says he found a short!” Mabel ran to help Stan substitute lengths of extra fuse for wires on the closest few racks, her quick fingers making short work of masking-tape splices. “I don’t know why we didn’t just stick to the old fuses. Those worked great last year!”

“Because we nearly burned down the Shack last year.” Dipper accepted the last couple of wires from Clary and tagged them neatly.

“Don’t sweat it, kids, you think I didn’t bring backups?” Stan fished out a battered matchbook, dropped it into his breast pocket for easy access and reached for the paper bag. “Eat up, gremlins, it’s almost showtime.”

Ford finally screeched in as they were all finishing off the last few bites of hot dog. He ran full-tilt up to the dock, gasping out vague apologies about losing track of time. The control console hit the top of the camp table with a thud. Between Ford and Dipper the numbered wires were clipped into the rig at terrifying speed, Mabel angling a gooseneck lamp to illuminate the tags in the near-dark.

“We’re missing two banks – Stanley.” Ford glared as he finished counting wires, and Stan shrugged.

“Didn’t know when you’d be back, set those up with quickfuse. We’ll be fine.” He fished a couple of punks out of the toolbox of backup gear, checked his watch, then looked downshore. “I’m gonna give ‘em fifteen more minutes of desperate anticipation. Then we’ll light ‘em up.”

Clary rocked on her heels in impatience, squinting down along the lake’s edge to the scatter of lights and silhouetted townsfolk at the main beach. Stan leaned over to murmur in her ear. “Your stuff’s all set up on one of the racks we just did fuses for, so I’ll have you touch those off. This’s what we’re usin’….”

He explained the slow-burning punk, basically an incense stick that’d hold just enough of an ember to do the job, and pressed his spare into her palm. “We’ll get that goin’ in a minute. Don’t set anythin’ on fire unless you mean to. Ready?”

Light was scarce, all the color washed out of her profile, but her eyes shone. “Ready.”

“Check the time and cue it up please, Mabel,” Ford said, a little too cheerful as he and Dipper settled in behind the control console with its dozens of little labeled switches.

Mabel tapped a couple of phone buttons and a low, mournful orchestral score started up, tinny through the tiny speakers. The opening bars echoed faintly over the lake from the speakers set up at Soos’ end.

Clary leaned over to peer at Mabel’s phone, brows rising as a baritone voice kicked in. “Tulen Synty? This is Finnish.”

“It’s ‘The Origin of Fire’. Eight and a half minutes. Perfect!” Ford flipped the first couple of switches and a few popping rockets went up from the far end of the dock. Distant whoops of approval drifted across the lake.

Stan tugged out the matches and got both his and Clary’s punks going. “He wanted to choreograph it, the racket will drown most of it out anyhow, and it’s too old for anyone to go after us for royalties. Works for me.”

The display built up slowly, Ford singing absently under his breath as he triggered one batch of mortars after another. It took two minutes of strings and woodwinds for things to get really interesting. Dipper, Mabel and Clary all tilted their heads back to watch while Stan snagged a lamp and angled it at the manual fuses.

At five minutes the men’s choir on the track welled up full-throated. Ford kicked off the first few of the big rockets with precise flicks of fingertips. Half lit from below and chuckling to himself, he looked just a bit unhinged. Might as well get it out of his system.

“Aight – you’re up, Clary, get over here.” She jolted with surprise from the piling she’d been leaning against with Mabel, watching the explosions. “We’re mixin’ in your batch, you get to light these. C’mon, nothin’s gonna bite.” Stan nudged her into place at the right spot. “Right here, just start from the end of this row, there ya go.”

Clary lit four in succession, her grin incandescent in the reflected light of the down-angled lamp. “Good?”

“Good, now step back, kid!” The fuses were hissing fiercely and he half-turned to shield her as the sparks began to fly and the rockets went up, one-two-three-four, screech-flash-bang, chrysanthemum bursts of fractured light reflected in the cool black mirror of the lake. The squeal of delight she produced was nearly as high-pitched as Mabel’s. It was like teenage-girl stereo for a few seconds and Stan laughed, pointing down the line. “Nice! Next batch, go get ‘em!”

They settled into a comfortable rhythm with the last half of the shells. Ford flicked switches with a conductor’s grandiose concentration to fire off his carefully coordinated and ever-escalating barrage. Dipper scrambled up to stand on the cooler, swapping off between three different cameras to get both digital and film exposures.

Stan knelt with the spare punk as the orchestral track soared to its conclusion. With Clary’s help he set off an impressive, noisy and entirely random volley of the leftover rockets to wrap it up.

Once the echoes faded, they all settled back to listen to distant, ragged cheers from the shoreline.

All in all it was definitely one of his better shows.

Stan straightened, hands to hips as he flexed and grunted and felt something shift between his shoulderblades. All that craning to squint up at the sky took it out of a man. “Dipper, Mabel, I’ve got a last batch for you guys to light up, c’mon over. Saved some of the little ones.”

“Little ones?” Mabel was all indignation as Stan dragged over the last couple of racks. Ford unclipped wires by the fistful from the back of his console and jogged off along the dock with a flashlight to check for duds, humming in contentment.

“So maybe I’m a little more wrapped up in safety concerns than I used t’be. Maybe.” Stan made sure Ford’s line of sight was otherwise occupied, then held up a fat, foil-printed skyrocket and waggled it with a wink at Mabel and Dipper. “Let’s fire up this last handful.”

Clary spooled up trigger wire and watched in amusement as Stan handed off the punks and made sure both Mabel and Dipper got to fire off the remainder of the rockets. The two largest he held until last. Those went up with a rising screech and a deep boom, crackling showers of blue and purple sparks cascading down to sputter out before hitting the water.

Both the kids whooped in delight. Ford was startled enough to deliver a brief, stern lecture on safety protocol which Stan waved off. They’d all blown up bigger things than this and seriously Ford had no room to talk.

It was just about midnight when they finished loading the control setup into the El Diablo. The empty racks they left for pickup in the morning, given that everyone was all but swaying on their feet. The five of them draggled up to the car with the last couple of chairs and the cooler.

Clary and the kids packed themselves into the back, chatting sleepily about past Fourths and the best fireworks they’d ever seen. The conversation petered out as Dipper, then Mabel nodded off. Clary turned her tired gaze up to the front seat. “Very impressive, fellas. Never thought I’d get to participate in one of these personally.”

Despite the afternoon nap, Stan was pretty wiped out himself. Ford was still irritatingly alert and chirped up. “Where did you pick up on Sebelius, Clary? I didn’t know you were a fan of the classics.”

Clary settled a careful arm around Mabel, who’d tipped into her side. “I got stranded in Helsinki by a weather reroute last year. There wasn’t much to do at that hour so I just wandered and read everything I could find. Tulen Synty came up in something about the Kalevala.”

“Finland! We have that on the list for next year, perhaps Saimaa if the boat’s up to it. Were you out there for business or pleasure?”

Worn out as he was, Stan picked up on her momentary hesitation. “Some of both, I guess. I have family in Switzerland and I expect to be working in Zurich for a while come fall.”

“That the niece and nephew?” Stan nudged. “And your sister?”

Her eyes tracked to his in the mirror. “That’s the crew. I’ve got a mess of cousins in Alabama, but I can’t say the South ever really agreed with me.”

“Definitely didn’t agree with me. Pretty sure I’m still banned in everythin’ but Mississippi, and that’s because it was never worth my time to get into trouble in Mississippi.” That didn’t quite get a laugh, but he preferred the glimmer of her smile to that look of exhaustion.

Shame Switzerland’s land-locked, he thought absently, and kept her busy with some of the less embarrassing stories about his travels in Dixie until they made it home to the Shack.

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She looks guilty, then defiant. “Are you going to help me fire these off or what?”

No way, she’s a potential liability.

Maybe she can help out with concessions.

Hell yes, let’s blow stuff up!

#Gravity Falls #gfdatingsim #DDtMMW #Swooning Over Stans #Stanley Pines #oclicious #fanfic

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valentinetaehyung-blog · 5 years

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💌 𝒻𝑒𝒷𝓇𝓊𝒶𝓇𝓎 𝒻𝑜𝓊𝓇𝓉𝑒𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒽 💌

𝟶𝟼:𝟻𝟻 𝚓𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚞𝚔'𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚢

— 𝚟𝚊𝚕𝚎𝚗𝚝𝚒𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚍𝚊𝚢, 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚘𝚏 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚊𝚍𝚖𝚒𝚛𝚊𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗. 𝚜𝚎𝚌𝚛𝚎𝚌𝚢 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝚠𝚑𝚒𝚜𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜. 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚞𝚖𝚋𝚜 𝚋𝚎𝚐𝚒𝚗 𝚝𝚘 𝚝𝚠𝚒𝚛𝚕 𝚍𝚞𝚎 𝚝𝚘 𝚜𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚕 𝚏𝚕𝚞𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚜 𝚘𝚏 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚊𝚛𝚝. 𝚝𝚘𝚍𝚊𝚢'𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚍𝚊𝚢 𝚒'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚍𝚘 𝚒𝚝. 𝚒'𝚖 𝚐𝚘𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚊𝚜𝚔 𝚝𝚊𝚎𝚑𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚐 𝚝𝚘 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚘𝚢𝚏𝚛𝚒𝚎𝚗𝚍.

jeongguk put aside his watercolor journal that’s been much of use to him, and began to pack his schoolbag in a rush. he felt a weird sensation begin to bubble up in his stomach. already nervous? he couldn’t wrap his head around what was going to happen this day. he shook his head and threw his bag over his shoulder, grabbing the journal and rushing out the door. his chocolate colored hair gets swept from his face as he begins running to school. 𝘵𝘢𝘦, 𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘸. jeongguk thought about taehyung’s facial expressions, for some reason it all played out like a movie. he could see taehyung laughing in slow motion at something a classmate said, he could hear taehyung’s deep giggle. jeongguk could recall every motion taehyung did throughout the day. he looked up at daybreak and saw the sun cutting the sky in half, making it two seperate colors; pink and orange. clouds danced in the sky above him. it was good weather this valentines day. he thought about how taehyung’s moles could match up with different constellations he had studied the night previously. was this what infatuation felt like? 𝘯𝘰, 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵. how could he let such stupid thoughts overflow his head? besides, it’s too late to doubt any feelings he had now. he had planned everything out. he blinked hard to erase images of taehyung and saw his school in the distance, with what seemed like tiny ants going through the gate which gave him motivation to run faster. he entered the school and immediately felt uneasy. between the endless chatter among other classmates and the overwhelming amount of nervousness he was having, he went directly to class without any bothersome interactions. taehyung wasn’t in any of his classes, but he’s known him since he was in kindergarten. they’re pretty close friends, however grew slightly apart once highschool had rolled around. taehyung became more open and extroverted, however jeongguk remained the same. timid and quiet. of course, taehyung didn’t treat him any differently, they’d have lunch together sometimes too. it meant alot to jeongguk whenever that would happen, he couldn’t maintain eye contact for more than 10 seconds with him. it made taehyung laugh, which lead to rose buds on jeongguk’s cheeks to blossom into a bright red. jeongguk etched hearts into taehyung's name that was on the inside of his binder. truthfully, he’s liked taehyung for as long as he can remember. he felt as if taehyung understood a side of him no one else did, but taehyung was unintentionally oblivious to it, which made jeongguk like him even more. the teacher was used to jeongguk never paying attention, he often dozed off and stared outside of the window, observing everything he possibly could. anything to get out of work, really. observing how often the branches move due to wind, how many birds on average fly by every 20 seconds, the number of houses on each street. his pointless thoughts slowly lead to imagery of taehyung yet again. 𝘢𝘩, 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯? 𝘱𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘦, 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯. 𝘭𝘦𝘵'𝘴 𝘮𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘶𝘯𝘤𝘩, 𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘺? 𝘺𝘰𝘶'𝘳𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘴. he often spoke to the thoughts of taehyung and told them to leave him alone. not in a mean way, it’s just whenever they came to him, he wouldn’t be able to focus on anything else. it was kind of frustrating at times, because it happened numerous amounts throughout the day. too often.

jeongguk made it through his two classes through doing absolutely nothing, and it was time for lunch. he walked to his locker with his books in his arms, and unlocked his locker quickly to put his books in. he shoved them in, closed it, and ran up to the roof, where taehyung always is (usually with a group of friends, but jeongguk had always focused on him the most.)

“hey jeonggukie.”

taehyung said with a smirk as he ruffled jeongguk’s hair. jeongguk already began to feel his cheeks getting warm. 𝘫𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘨𝘶𝘬𝘪𝘦. jeongguk smiled and looked down, cheeks flushed, but by the time he raised his head, taehyung was already talking to his group of friends. jeongguk didn’t mind, after all he was standing next to taehyung, so he couldn’t complain. he watched taehyung, watched his movements, his expressions, mannerisms. he was so.. what was the word he was taught? so alluring. beautiful. ethereal. everything about taehyung screamed celestial imagery. he was jeongguk’s moon. he remembered times where him and taehyung would go on his roof and talk about how fun it would be to fly to the moon and escape their town. taehyung figured if they were gone, nobody would notice anyways. it was just taehyung being blissfully ignorant, but jeongguk secretly wanted to do the same. he could see taehyung's dark orbs being lit up with tiny stars. 𝘰𝘩, 𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨, 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘵𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶? 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘴?

“-kie, jeonggukie! what are you thinking of, hm?”

taehyung got close to jeons face. this is the longest he’s made eye contact with him before. his cheeks were on fire, he felt caterpillars in his stomach spiral out of their cocoon and into butterflies, millions of them being released all at once. he opened his mouth, but all that came out was silence. his brain was useless at this moment, completely blank. he couldn’t even formulate words.

“ah, so cute, mhm? what were you thinking of? was it.. mee?”

jeongguk pushed taehyung away playfully as tae began to laugh.

“hey, i’m joking. don’t get so angry at me, mm?”

jeongguk looked down and put his palm on his cheek.

“i wasn’t thinking of you, i was thinking about the.. homework i’ll have to do when i get home.”

jeongguk looked back up at taehyung. tae tilted his head like a puppy, his eyes big and glossy per usual.

“alright, jeon, want me to help you after school?”

he said with a big smile. jeongguk had to look to his right almost immediately to prevent having his cheeks be set on flames of desire

“i-.. sure, i.. guess”

jeongguk said kicking the ground nervously.

“it’s a date!”

lunch time ended and jeongguk went back to his final class of the day, playing out in his head what he was going say to taehyung after school, thinking about when the perfect moment to ask would be. 𝘸𝘢𝘪𝘵, 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘷𝘢𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 𝘥𝘢𝘺? he tried his hardest to remember moments at lunch he had treasured in his mind, filled to the brim with pure unconditional love towards taehyung. he reached in his backpack and saw his envelope, sealed with a cute sticker of a bear holding a red heart. he felt this weird anxiousness overcome him for the third time today. 𝘰𝘩, 𝘨𝘰𝘥. 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢𝘮 𝘪 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳? jeongguk hated the way he talked. he was so formal and elegant, taehyung often teased him about it. he liked how jeongguk was so polite, and treated his elders with respect (more so liked the feeling of being superior to jeongguk, having the ability to make him weak in the knees with merely one glare.) the bell rang which was the cue for dismissal. his teacher for wished the class to have a nice weekend, and jeongguk was the first one out the door. he ran to the school gate wanting to be earlier than taehyung so he could mentally prepare what he was going to say. 𝘢𝘩, 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯. there taehyung was, looking standoffish by leaning on the side of the gate with his leg kicked out, sucking a lollipop while looking to the side. he had a beauty mark on his jawline. jeongguk began to walk slower as he observed the way taehyung’s lips curved around the lollipop perfectly. taehyung brought his attention to jeongguk, who was walking directly in front of him.

“gukku!”

taehyung said with a grin from one ear to another as he ran up to him. he was standing less than four feet in front of him. jeongguk already began to stumble with his words and taehyung enjoyed every second of it.

“when are you going to call me by my.. real name?”

jeongguk said while looking down at his feet and playing with his thumbs.

“hm.. i guess when i feel like it, jeonnie!.. how good are you at running?”

taehyung said as he began to run out of the school gate and turned a corner, which caught jeongguk off guard.

“hey! taehyung! wait up! please!”

jeongguk pleaded as he threw his bag over his shoulder and began to run. jeongguk had a muscular frame and was fit, but he was short and fairly unathletic. not good at cardio, at least. he could hear taehyung laughing in the distance, as he got closer, the sound of him got progressively louder, and the figure of taehyung became more clear. 𝘵𝘢𝘦𝘩𝘺𝘶𝘯𝘨, 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘪𝘯𝘨. 𝘪 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘻𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴. he looked at the curves and dips in taehyung's figure as he was running. he was tall, muscular but not overbearing, strong, good at almost every sport. he had beautiful hands, long fingers. wore rings often. it took a few minutes of running before jeongguk looked around and didn’t recognize his surroundings. but taehyung was still giddy, laughing up a storm.

“taehyung! where are we? where are you taking me?”

“it should be one more minute! can you wait that long, cutie?”

𝙘𝙪𝙩𝙞𝙚. a pet name. jeongguk felt his heart weaken, it was a mixture of running for more than 5 minutes and being struck by cupid’s arrow regarding the sudden pet name from taehyung. jeongguk had finally caught up with taehyung, as tae began to slow down, and got cut off with the overwhelming beautiful scenery that was set right in front of his eyes.

“beautiful, hm? …did it take your breath away? or was that my doing?”

jeongguk was speechless at the site of what seemed like a million cherry blossoms dancing delicately in the wind. he felt all of his nervousness throughout the day be lifted in a single moment.

“serenity.”

“hm?”

“this is what unfiltered serenity feels like, taehyung.”

taehyung bright smile turned to a small pout as he turned his head to his left and looked and jeongguk staring at the soft pink petals that filled the sky. his dark eyes danced across the scene. taehyung was bad at being able to tell people’s emotions and feelings, but was able to distinguish jeongguk’s seriousness concerning this moment. jeongguk’s lips parted gently as he said

“you know, your lips kind of look like these.”

jeongguk looked at taehyung with wide eyes and immediately covered his mouth.

“taehyung! i didn’t m..mean that i just.. it just came out! please forgive me, im sorry!”

taehyung didn’t show any emotion, it was like staring at a blank canvas. nothing was there. unreadable. jeongguk didn’t like this, usually taehyung had a look of untroubled, unaware of what pain or dread or how terrible the world truly was. he wasn’t dumb, he knowingly chose to ignore it. it made him come across as pure, untainted, he was innocent. jeongguk liked that too.

“taehyung?”

“you like me, hmm? just tell me. do you think of me often?”

without saying a word, jeongguk put down his bag and began to shuffle around a few books and papers before pulling out an envelope. taehyung rose an eyebrow as he made sure to mentally note every movement of jeongguk. jeongguk zipped up his bag and put it aside. he held out his arms to taehyung, holding onto his letter with both hands. taehyung’s strong hands gripped one of jeongguk’s and took the letter with the other. the sudden touch made jeongguk quietly gasp, leaving his mouth dropped. taehyung expressed a loving tenderness through his beaming smile, as he looked down and opened it cautiously to not rip the sticker. his eyes swiftly moved across the page and he grinned and closed the letter, sliding it into his back pocket along with the envelope. jeongguk stared at him with his eyebrows furrowed and had looked like he was about to sulk. his eyes resembled glass, nose red from the biting cold winds of spring, winter not wanting to let go quite yet.

“you were always my stars, jeongguk.”

was the last thing jeongguk heard before feeling his face being dug into taehyung neck through a warm embrace. he felt taehyung’s muscular arms be wrapped around him tightly as his eyes began to overflow with rivers, which lead to streams effortlessly moving down the curve of his cheeks which resembled a rabbit. taehyung heard his little gasps of air.

“hey, you alright jeongguk?”

taehyung pulled apart slightly to wipe jeongguk’s tears away with his slender fingers. it was seemingly a never ending cry, but jeongguk didn’t want to let go of taehyung. this is what he had longed for forever. he brought his lips to taehyung’s. they were soft and pink. he was right, they’re similar to rose petals. taehyung was delicate with jeongguk. he had never kissed anyone before.

this was his happy ending. february fourteenth.

———–

𝟸𝟹:𝟶𝟾 𝚓𝚎𝚘𝚗𝚐𝚐𝚞𝚔'𝚜 𝚍𝚒𝚊𝚛𝚢

— 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚊𝚕𝚠𝚊𝚢𝚜 𝚖𝚢 𝚖𝚘𝚘𝚗, 𝚝𝚊𝚎𝚑𝚢𝚞𝚗𝚐.

cr. valentinetaehyung tumblr

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xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx · 6 years

Text

Colors - Ryan Ross x Reader

Request: Hey, fist of all I LOVE your writing, and your devotion to it and I’d like to submit a request. So I saw this full back tattoo that was made to look like watercolor flowers and reminded me of pretty odd. This gave me the idea for a Ryan fic where he sees the reader’s back (who’s super innocent and sweet and doesn’t seem like the kind for tattoos) and she’s embarrassed but he loves it and proves it to her by inspiring the album cover art. I know you have a lot of requests so take your time!❤️❤️

Reader: female

Word count: 1 652

‘Yeah right, ‘no distraction whatsoever’,’ Ryan bitterly thought to himself as he watched you sitting on Brendon’s lap, ‘’Too innocent to try anything’ maybe, but a distraction anyway.’

He huffed quietly to himself. There had been a reason he had suggested that the band should spent a few weeks in a cabin on their own. Admittedly, that reason had been him hoping to get over the awfully obvious crush he had on you, but that was not what mattered right now. What mattered had been that the others had promised you would not be a distraction to them, but here he was, unable to concentrate because the light laughter that left your mouth was like a drug for him. Everything seemed to fade into the background when you were around. But why were you sitting on Brendon’s lap anyway? Why did you have to sit on his lap? You could as well sit on Ryan’s lap, but nooo you had to sit on Brendon’s.

He tried to focus back on the sheet of paper, doing his best to push all thoughts about you out of his mind. Cabin, writing songs, music, band, that was what he was here for. Aimlessly he scribbled around on the sheet of paper. How the hell was he supposed to concentrate with you so close by? Maybe a few weeks on his own would not have been enough to get over you anyway, but this was just plainly ridiculous.

“What’re you talking about,” he asked instead, turning around on his chair and looking over at Brendon and you.

“Ryan, tell him that blue whales are the biggest animal on the world,” you demanded.

Ryan noticed how casually Brendon’s arm rested around your waist. Seriously?

“Uhm, yeah, yeah, I think it is,” he agreed, at the same time wondering if he was right.

“See? Told ya,” you triumphed, jumping up from Brendon’s lap, who groaned.

“Why does that even matter,” he asked, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

“Because the world is full of wonder and adventure? Because nature is beautiful beyond our grasp? Because nothing will ever marvel at the magic of the universe as it is now if we don’t,” you responded excitedly.

Ryan loved it when you did that, when you lost yourself in the beautiful world that surrounded you. He just hoped that one day he could be a part of that.

“But-“ Brendon interjected, “I’m pretty sure the biggest living thing on earth is this one gigantic fungus.”

“Yeah, that’s a fungus though, no animal,” you reminded him.

Ryan hated that Brendon had interrupted your little passionate rant about the universe. Who knew when he would get another one of those?

In that moment Jon strode into the room, wearing his swim trunks, carrying a towel above his shoulder.

“Spence and I wanted to go swimming in that pool by the brook,” he explained, “Anyone wanna join in?”

“Sure,” Brendon cheered, quickly getting up.

“Definitely,” you agreed as well.

The five of you had discovered the pool during the first day. It was a small but deep hole in the ground that was filled with crystal clear water from the brook and become part of the creek over time.

Since you were going, Ryan had no other chance but to go as well, did he?

“Cool, but hurry up, I think it’s gonna rain soon,” Jon told everyone before you disappeared in your rooms to put on bathing clothes.

When Ryan was done redressing, the other boys were already waiting.

“I think we should go ahead,” Spencer suggested, “Maybe we can be faster than the rain.”

“I’ll wait for (Y/n),” Ryan spoke up, not wanting to leave you behind. Plus, he could gain a few minutes alone with you.

“Okay, but don’t complain later if you didn’t get to swim,” Brendon laughed before the three guys headed down the gravel path towards the rushing of water from the small brook.

As soon as they had headed out of earshot, Ryan noticed some rather upset groaning coming from your room. Carefully he walked over, not wanting to disturb you.

“Why, why, why, why don’t you work when I need you to,” your voice sounded annoyed through the door.

Slowly Ryan lifted his knuckles up and knocked against the wood that separated the two of you.

“(Y/n)? It’s Ryan. Everything okay in there,” he asked cautiously.

“Uhm, Ryan, hey. Do you think you could quickly help me out,” you asked from the other side, sounding almost relieved.

“Yes, what’s the problem,” he asked back, suddenly feeling nervous.

“Can you come in? I need help with the clasp,” you answered.

Ryan pressed down the handle of the door, not really sure if he understood what you meant by clasp. When he pushed open the door, he was met with a sight he had not expected. Yes, he had assumed that you were wearing your bikini or whatever and he had even been mentally prepared for the amount of exposed skin that would bring along, but he had definitely not been prepared for the delicate, extensive pattern of fine, colorful flowers that covered your back. He stopped dead in his track, admiring how flowers of different kinds ranked along your spine, up between your shoulder blades. Little, almost inconspicuous flowers in light shades covered the spaces between blooms with bigger, more intensely colored petals. Different blades of grass and single leaves of ivy broke the otherwise overwhelming amount of color. Small tendrils of what looked like bindweed climbed up your sides, framing the sea of flowers.

“Could you help me with the clasp? It just won’t close,” your timid voice pulled Ryan back into reality.

You were standing, back to the door, in the middle of the small room. Your one hand was holding the bikini top to your chest, the other one held the ends of the clasp behind your back.

“Okay,” Ryan mumbled, suddenly feeling a lot more nervous than would have been necessary. “I didn’t think you were the kind for tattoos.”

He stepped closer to you and took the clasp from your small fingers. Up close the masterpiece of color and form was even more impressive. Each flower was perfectly detailed; every vein was visible, every shadow skillfully making the pedals stand out even more.

“I know, right,” you laughed a little, “I just… I saw this beautiful tattoo once when I was a kid, and ever since I wanted one too.”

Ryan nodded understandingly, even though you could not see it. You had been the last person he would have expected to have a tattoo, but somehow this one matched you brilliantly. Its colors underlined your natural skin color perfectly and the design matched your love for nature. He look the two parts of the clasp between his fingers, accidently brushing over your back in the process. You shivered slightly at the unexpected contact and Ryan almost would have let go of the clasp by shying away from you. But he didn’t.

“Who designed it,” he asked instead.

“I did,” you answered, “Took me ages, but it really was worth it.”

With a tiny click the clasp was closed and an idea shot through Ryan’s head.

“Do you think you could paint something like that again, as album art,” he asked and you turned around with a smile on your beautiful face.

“Of course, it would be an honor,” you grinned happily.

It was a strange feeling, standing so close to you. One part of Ryan’s mind was screaming how close you were to him, how only a few inches separated your almost bare bodies from each other, how you basically stood chest to chest, while another part of Ryan’s mind was weirdly at ease.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours, hm,” you asked, your voice soft and careful, not certain if you were overstepping your boundaries.

“I really want to kiss you,” Ryan did not even know why he had said that. Something in your voice was so enchanting that he just spilled his thoughts without thinking twice.

A little, smug grin pulled at your lips before you reached up and ran your fingers over the smooth skin on his neck until they were resting at the back of his head. With a little pressure, just enough for him to feel, you pulled him down to you, your faces barely an inch hovering away from each other.

“I’ve waited ages for you to say that,” you whispered, your warm breath ghosting over his skin.

And in the next moment your lips were on his, soft and smooth, perfectly moving against his while your slender fingers wrapped into his brown locks, pulling him closer. Of course he kissed back immediately. Nobody in his situation who was as much in love with you as he was, would not have kissed back. A little helpless, not sure where to place his hands considering how little you were wearing, he cupped your chin. His other hand settled on your hip, warm against cool skin. His heart was beating in his throat and his mind was doing cartwheels as you kissed him so sweet and deliciously. He got lost in your smell, your taste, the way you had gently placed your free hand on his chest right above his heart. How was it possible that you felt the same for him? How could this be true? It did not matter, he decided. What mattered was that you felt the same way, that you were kissing him, melting into his hands the way you did, and that was all he needed to know.

Heavy raindrops started beating against the roof, but when Jon, Spencer and Brendon came running back into the cabin, you just had to take one look at Ryan, and with a sly grin on your face you closed the door to your room.

#ryan ross x reader #ryan ross imagine #ryan ross fluff #ryan ross #ryan ross x reader fluff #fanfiction #fanfic #Panic! at the Disco #cabin album #cute #romance #fluffy #fluff #tattoo #watercolour flowers #watercolor tattoo

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