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maliciouslycreative · 3 years

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How I played damage control to an anti in a small anime fandom and may have led to her ultimate downfall

I know I had a really nice write up of this at one point but oh well. I’ll spill more of the tea in this one because honestly the tea was so hot.

There are a few things that I have to give context to first. Gaia online was like THE mega forum of the 2000s, you made a little avatar and through posting and doing other activities on the forum you made money to buy clothes for your avatar. There were forums for everything but the fannish portions were really what drew in most of the people. The anime I was into was Beyblade. It was a shonen anime about fighting with tops that were possessed by the spirits of magical creatures. The story was honestly pretty average but the characters were fantastic and the fandom is to this day still one of my favourites. The series had a primarily male cast and didn’t even have a female lead until the second season. This led to the fanfic for the English fandom being about 70% canon/OC, 10 % canon m/f, and 20% slash. The most popular character in the English fandom was by far Kai Hiwatari, the loner badboy of the team.

Also before we get started I would like to add that one of my best friends was neck deep in this and the two of us were more or less fandom married. This is the same friend that I fake dated, had feelings for, and she nearly got me into kpop in 2011 so like if you haven’t read that story please read it too because it will give you a good idea of how stupid I am and how much of a fanfic I have truly lived.

To set the stage I was 16, soon to be 17 when I joined the fandom and it was 2004. In September of that year I wrote a humour longfic that became an absolute smash hit and I found myself somehow fandom famous. It was around this time that I joined Gaia online. I made my little avatar and immediately went looking for the beyblade thread so that I could make new friends. I found the main thread, made my little introduction and at the end of it mentioned that I was a slash writer but I supported all ships. This is where I met C. She had declared herself the authority on Beyblade in these parts and I had just committed the crime of mentioning slash which was very obviously not canon and we did not discuss in this thread because we only discussed canon things. I was like well that’s a bit severe but like sure whatever I just want to hang out and have fun.

Oh boy did I have no idea what I was in for.

C was a year older than me and unfortunately that made her older than the majority of the fans at the time. Her favourite character was Kai, and she was not shy about talking about this fact. She stanned Kai above all other characters, and often at their expense. She was also a fanfic writer of a popular canon/OC series. Actually, she was so full of herself that she didn’t even call herself a fanfic writer, no her stories were in fact novels and were apparently very good. I never read them. But more on that later.

Eventually the slash fans got tired of her being rude to us in the general thread so we made a Beyblade slash thread. There was a core of like 8 or so of us and we honestly had sooo much fun. When C would be too unbearable in the main thread the people from there used to come over to our thread and we’d chat with them about non slash stuff because we were honestly all multishippers and just wanted to have fun. We’d get comments like “wow, I’ve had more pleasant canon het ship discussions in the slash thread than the regular thread”. We never worried about C coming over and getting upset about comments like this because she refused to be associated with anything related with slash lmao.

I tried my best to keep the peace between C, myself, and the rest of the fandom because ultimately I hate being in fandom drama. I just want everyone to have a good time. I’m a people pleaser. Unfortunately my newfound fame put me in the awkward position of being the most fandom popular person in our small community aside from C. Virtually every fan that read fanfics that came into our thread knew one of us or the other by reputation and C HATED this. Especially because people would come in to the thread, recognise me and go “oh my goodness I love your fanfics!” and I’d be super sweet with them and it’d lead into “I can’t believe how nice you are, I love you” which would lead to us crying at each other. This was not the kind of fan interaction that C got, no her fans were more kind that were there to praise her and worship her like a deity that had blessed them with some gift. Rarely did they tell her how kind she was.

Back in the mid 2000s there were really commonly those commercials (usually by Christian organisations) asking people to sponsor say children in Africa or to help build schools or provide drinking water. You all probably know the ones; know the language that they used in those commercials. My fandom wife, who I suppose I shall call wifey because yes we were THAT couple back then, once said that C described her fics like those people described donating money to save the lives of Children in Africa. So we used to joke that her fics were so good they’d save lives in Africa. Looking back at it all, she almost had a very fundamentalist Christian approach to bringing people into her fanfics. She of course tried to get all the slash people into reading it. None of us read canon/oc fic mostly due to our poor treatment at the hands of their fans and creators. Getting fed up I one day told her that if she would read any one of my fanfics that I would read the entirety of her novels. Yes, I was willing to commit to read a couple 100k of canon/oc fanfic that I’d never touch normally if she would even read one of my 1k 1 shots. Heck, I had a fic even that shipped 2 minor characters so she didn’t even have to sully herself reading about one of the main characters. It was honestly a good deal in her favour. I kept this up until the day we all left the fandom. Sometimes I do wonder if her fics were even ¼ as good as she claimed, but I will never know because she refused to read my fics.

She wasn’t all bad and a tyrant all the time. As long as people kept the conversations on track and didn’t come in to the thread saying things like “KAI IS SO HOT ND T3H BEST N I AM GUN 2 MARRY HIM” she stayed mostly civil. It was always hilarious watching InuYahsa or Naruto fans try to come in and bad mouth Beyblade because they’d unleash the dragon and C was great at chasing off undesirables in the thread.

The real apex of goings on though on Gaia was the guild drama. So guilds were like exclusive themed mini forums within Gaia. Anyone could buy one and run it however they want, as long as it still adhered to Gaia’s ToS. C of course was the owner of the only Beyblade guild. The fandom wasn’t really big enough to support 2 guilds so we just kind of let it go. Technically she allowed people to post slash fanfics but like everything had to be explicitly tagged and there was absolutely no slash RP. Wifey and I controlled a handful of minor characters together in the forum RP and definitely used to try to push the boundaries a little bit. Some ambiguous flirting here, a stray comment there. It was such a fragile balance though because C was heavy on the ban button. The active portion of the guild was just people that were in the cult of C and worshipped her writing.

Understandably the other slash fans and myself were getting disheartened by this. So we pooled our funds together and decided that we’d open a second guild that though it was run by slash fans we would welcome anyone into our ranks. We just wanted to have a fun place for everyone to hang out, and to hopefully run a few events out of. In hindsight, we should have seen what would happen. When we opened the guild, with me as the guild leader, it was like somebody blew up the whole dam protecting the delicate ecosystem we had cultivated. Every single person in the Gaia fandom that was not a zealous follower of C applied to be in our guild and left her guild. We of course figured that we’d attract some of the gen population but we did not expect to accidentally poach all of it. All of the moderators were getting messages from people thanking us for giving them a place where they could say whatever they wanted without fear of getting their faces ripped off or banned.

C lost her shit. She was so mad that we went behind her back to ruin her guild. We literally had to show her posts in the very public slash thread that we had been planning this in public and that it was not to ruin her life. We just wanted a place where we could freely post slash. The two of us had some spicy comments back and forth and then she dropped an absolute bombshell on me. Since Gaia’s mail system is terrible I unfortunately no longer have exactly what she said but it was something along the lines of “Ok, you win. I’m going to close my guild.”. Us slash fans had never been doing this to win anything. We had never been competing. We just wanted a safe space to be ourselves.

C never joined our guild. The fandom slowly faded out within the next year anyway. We weren’t getting new content so naturally people just drifted into other fandoms. C kept up with the main Beyblade thread for a lot longer than most of us but eventually that eventually faded into obscurity too.

I learned a lot about fandom bullies from those days. But honestly the thing that stuck with me the most out of everything was that if you provide a positive safe space for people they will flock to it. It may seem like there are so many hostile people out there, but there really aren't. They're the minority but they just make sure that their voice is the loudest. The best way is to ignore them and just do your own thing. The bullies just want attention and if you don’t give it to them and prove to them that their opinion doesn’t matter to you then they’ll move in and find something else to yell at.

#malicious musings #stacey's adventures in fandom drama #lol #honestly it was such a fucking wild time #if i think of any other specific instances of drama i'll add them #god i wish i had screenshots of some of what went on #but sadly going through archived gaia posts is easier said than done

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becca-e-barnes · 3 years

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The "minors DNI" posts that I've been seeing crop up everywhere by fic writers are always so interesting to me.

First and foremost, I 100% support your decision to post a "minors DNI" for your safety and their safety. You're being responsible, doing your due diligence as a responsible adult, and trying to ensure that everyone enjoys what you put out there in a safe way.

And I know you specifically have not said this so this is not a slight on you by any means, but I think you'd be more open to the discourse of such an interesting topic like this—the problem I have with some fic writers is that is them saying they will block anyone who does not have their age posted in their blog.

This, I believe, is an incredibly dangerous precedent to set. On the one hand displaying your age if you are over 18 seems like a non-issue, right? Sure. But setting the precedent that people should display their age in their blog encourages minors to share their age on the internet which in turn can make them an easier target.

Personal preference for me—I'm a thirty-two year old lady (plz sing this appropriately) and do not share my age in my tumblr because, well I don't want to.

We're all technically violating TOS anyway, so it doesn't really matter if a minor interacts with your fic or not at this point—by interact I mean like/reblog/comment, not DMing you to talk about sexual stuff. That stuff you should absolutely block/delete for obvious legal and safety reasons.

And while I understand the legality thing, if you are not explicitly engaging with said minor, there's not a whole bunch that could hold up in court. How many lawsuits do you think E.L. James gets for 13 year olds waltzing into a bookstore or buying 50 shades of grey off amazon and reading it? There was actually an interesting article written about the "common sense" engagement with this book back in 2012.

Anywho, you are right to ask and set a boundary, and do what you feel is right to protect yourself and using the DNI minor blanket statement is ultimately a good thing, especially if it's a personal uncomfortableness with minors reading your work. However, even if a minor just decided to lie and say they were 21 and read your stuff anyway, unknowingly interacting with a minor is just as bad legally as knowingly doing so so at the end of the day, we're still just taking risks. The safest thing for all of us would probably be to not interact with anyone or ask everyone to use anon, but there's not fun or friendship in that. Your mutual who has stated they're 25 could still be 16 and you wouldn't know it.

My perspective may also just be entirely outdated as well because I grew up in the internet age of it being a lawless wasteland and everyone lied about everything, so I don't see the value in trying to police my work when people will just read it anyway and I don't have any control over that at the end of the day other than to tag appropriately and/or not post anything at all ever.

This was long and not necessary to answer, I'm just always fascinated by the rigor at which fanfic writers are so quick to banish people for not putting their age in their bios when I think it is inherently more dangerous for minors to do so because it puts a target on their back.

Before I start, I recognise that we’re of the same line of thought! I saw this long message and panicked thinking that someone had taken an issue with my stance on it and I’m glad that’s not the case 🙈 Anything I raise here is in the interest of discussion and I completely respect your point of view. 💗

This is really interesting actually and truth be told, I’ve avoided any discussion on this topic for a very long time for fear that I won’t adequately explain my stance on it. I feel like I’ve had a chance to do that and I hope it’s been taken up by everyone as I intended.

I will admit; as a minor, I read smut. Without going into detail, it entirely warped my perspective on how relationships should look. To provide a little context on my stance, at 14/15 (and younger), I had no business reading the things I was reading. Unfortunately, I was in a “relationship” at the time and I fully believed that I had to engage with my boyfriend in ways that mirrored what I was reading. I ended up in situations I didn’t want to be in. To me, it’s my responsibility as a writer and as someone who learned the hard way, to ensure that younger people don’t make the same mistakes I did.

I do fully agree, minors stating their real age on their blog raises all sorts of different issues, as you rightly said. You’re absolutely right, to a minor there are no advantages to displaying your real age on here. Fic writers will block you, creeps will be more likely to engage with you. So I fully understand that this might seem like a reason to lie or provide no age at all.

Leading on from that though, if a minor lies on their profile and claims to be over 18 and they interact with my smut, from a legal perspective, that is not going to have any repercussion on me. I have put my disclaimers up, I vet as many profiles as I can and I do everything I would be reasonably expected to do in the eyes of the law. (This isn’t an area of law I studied in significant depth but that standard of reasonable expectation would still apply). I do as much as I can to protect myself and them.

You brought up 50 Shades and I understand your point but the issue here is not just the fic itself. If anyone comments/ reblogs my fic, I like to send a little reply back! I love when people take the time to give me feedback and I want to thank them for it, as a lot of other writers do! The issue here being that if the blog commenting is a minor, the writer would be engaging in a conversation about sexual material with a minor. And that’s fucking messy. This is mainly where fics differ from a teenager buying a copy of 50 shades. In that situation, there’s no interaction there between the author and the underage fan so it loses that personal element.

On the issue of blogs with no age, I see where you’re coming from and I see that you both read and write fanfiction. But I also see it from the other perspective given that a lot of writers like to do as much as possible to protect themselves and potential minors.

I totally support that’s a boundary that you set and it’s your choice. In the same sense that it’s a fic writer’s choice to protect themselves by blocking you. It’s a matter of boundaries clashing at the end of the day. I really do see both sides here. I’m a really organised person so honestly, if anyone wanted to send me a private message just confirming they’re over 18, I’d put them all into a list to make sure I don’t accidentally block them for interacting. But of course, not every writer would be able to do that and I’m sure many readers would want to do that either! I just see it as the only way to compromise on that issue and keep everyone happy.

Thank you for sending me this! I hope I covered everything and if I haven’t been clear enough in some areas, feel free to come back to me! 🙈 And I really appreciate actually having a discussion on here! It’s so great to hear others’ points of view in a nice, respectful way. Tumblr loses that sometimes! Have a lovely evening 💗

#asks answered <3 #anon #long post #discourse #peep me getting to use my degree ahahaha #tw: sa

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whump-me-all-night-long · 4 years

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The Scoop of a Lifetime - 2-10

Comfortember Day 10 - Crying

Tagging @mnmlover2002 @cupcakes-and-pain @lave-e @appy-polly-loggies @lovely-little-whump @just-another-whumper let me know if you want to be added/removed!

CW: referenced trauma, nightmares, let me know if I missed anything!

Masterlist // Previous

---

The embrace undid them. Devin sobbed into Elliott’s shoulder, shaking and blubbering. Their eyes had long since passed being red and puffy, their throat felt dry and itchy, and they were overcome with exhaustion. All the while, they were thinking what have i done i’ve condemned him i’ve put him in danger what have i done

Elliott said nothing, only held them and rocked them and grounded them, keeping their memories from completely overwhelming them. When their breaths finally calmed, he asked in a low voice, “Devin? What can I do?”

They knew he had more questions than that, many more, especially after the story they had just told him, and a wave of gratefulness swept over them. “Just,” they croaked. “Just hold me. Please.”

So he did. He held them as they shook, as their body began to shut down from the strength of their emotions, as their eyes drifted close, then as they jerked forward when the nightmares came. He sat on that couch next to them and held them, never saying anything that they didn’t want to hear. Never saying anything, really, except soft reassurances. You are safe. I’m here. You’re with me.

After the third or fourth time they had begun to drift off only to be greeted by nightmares, he murmured quietly, “Would you like to go to bed, now?”

They mutely nodded, unable to summon words to express their exhaustion or their gratitude. Elliott only gave them a soft smile before helping them stand. Their ankles protested, just as they almost always did nowadays, and Elliott bore most of their weight on the short walk to their bedroom.

Once inside, he helped them sit then lay down on their bed, bringing up the blankets to tuck tightly around them. He paused for a moment, before brushing away a few strands of their hair and beginning to walk away. One of Devin’s hands snaked out from underneath the heavy weight and hooked around his wrist. He paused, looking surprised.

Crouching next to them, he said softly, “What’s wrong, Devin? Do you need something?”

They stared into his gray, gray eyes that no longer seemed quite so wrong and debated their next words. With a soft sigh, they whispered, “Stay? Please?” Their words were hesitant, as if they expected to be laughed off or rejected. Why did I ask him to stay with me? He’s just trying to do the right thing, and I’ve already asked more of him than I ever should’ve.

But Elliott only gave them an easy smile and said, “Of course.” He changed his position slightly, so he was sitting fully on the ground, but they tugged on his wrist again.

With a blush, they muttered, “Up here? With me?” Inside their mind, they were cursing themself, their shamelessness at making such a request. But their aching need to be held by someone that wasn’t him overpowered that.

He froze, studying them intently. “Are you sure?” he asked in his soft voice that always seemed ready to be shut down, rejected at every syllable.

Their eyes stung as they retracted their hand as if they’d been burned. “Never mind.” It came out barely more than a breath, but they couldn’t summon the courage to speak any louder. They felt embarrassed, ashamed, guilty. How could they ask something like that of him?

He shook his head. “No, Devin, I didn’t mean it like that. I- I just don’t want to accidentally take advantage of you, or do something you’re uncomfortable with.”

Their lips parted slightly in surprise before they replied slowly, “I.. I need this. I want this. Please, I need someone.. not him.” Their eyes shone with sincerity and Elliott, once he was sure that they were sure, nodded.

He toed off his shoes and carefully laid down next to them, making sure to leave plenty of room and not jostle them too badly. They immediately turned over and, glancing up at his face, partly shrouded in shadow, leaned close to him.

He gently wrapped his arms around their small body, and their eyes began leaking tears again. This time, though, they were silent and mostly still, just allowing the tears to fall from their face and only Elliott’s shirt. They laid like that, their face tucked close to his warm body, his arms wrapped firmly, but gently around them. They didn’t feel trapped or cornered, only protected.

“I’m sorry,” they murmured into his chest.

Devin felt his head turn down towards them. “What for?” he asked.

A long pause before- “For telling you. I shouldn’t’ve. It was too dangerous. Now you- you’ll be in danger. I’m sorry.”

He remained silent for a while before slowly replying, “I’m glad you told me. Not only because it’s the truth and people deserve to know, but because you deserve to be able to tell it. And not feel burdened by this huge secret. Thank you,” he murmured, pressing a chaste kiss to the top of their head, “for trusting me enough to tell me.”

They mumbled something unintelligible at that, content to lay in silence, their head pressed deep enough into his chest to hear his slow, reassuring heartbeat.

As they were on the verge of sleep, they softly said, “Thank you. For holding me.”

They were already slipping off towards their nightmares when they thought they heard him respond. “Of course. Anything for you, Dev.”

#comfortember2020 #day 10: crying #the scoop of a lifetime #devin connally #elliott wright #whump #whump writing #whumpee #broken whumpee #recovering whumpee #caretaker #hesitant caretaker #referenced trauma #nightmares

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to-boldly-nope · 4 years

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All Over Again (1/4)

Pairing: TOS Bones x Reader

Words: 918-ish

Plot: McCoy doesn't believe that he can find love again, well that and he doesn't want anything to go wrong and he believes that he’s too old. After the Enterprise gets a new group of crewmen, he accidentally falls in love with a medical officer younger than him. (The plot is badly described I'm sorry)

Warnings: just Bones and his Saurian Brandy but nothing that serious

Tags: @emily-strange This is like the first chapter and I'll pick up pace soon but I hope this is kinda what you wanted so far...

{PART 2}

Bones sat in Sickbay, drinking a glass of Saurian Brandy. He was preparing himself to do physicals of a new group of crewmen and boy he wasn't ready.

"Kirk to McCoy," his communicator went off and he pressed a button on his desk as he downed the last of the alcohol.

"McCoy here. What'd you need, Jim?" He asked, slightly annoyed. He was short on staff today and it's only going to be him and Nurse Chapel.

"Just checking on you, Bones. We have at least fifty people coming aboard as new crewmen and maybe-"

"If you say maybe I'll find someone to court then I'll come to the bridge and sedate you," his southern voice threatened his commanding officer.

"I'm only trying to help," Jim chuckled. "Good luck, Bones, Kirk out."

"Why you little-" he hissed as he turned the communicator off. He poured himself another shot of the alien brandy, about to resort to Romulan Ale if Jim keeps it up.

Bones wasn't looking for a relationship after all of them ended badly and it didn't help that he was slightly older than the rest of the crew. He let out a tired sigh as he stood up and straightened his medical scrubs, making them free of wrinkles.

"Doctor, we need to meet the crew members in the transporter room," Nurse Chapel informed as he finished the rest of the brandy again.

"Right, thank you, Ms. Chapel."

He grabbed his medical scanner and followed his head nurse to the transporter room where there were already a handful of crewmen standing there. One of them caught his eye; a girl with (h/c) hair and (e/c) eyes. He shrugged it off, he knew he was too old for her anyway.

Jim came in and did a greeting, introducing himself and what the goal of the Enterprise was. "Now if you all would follow the lovely and handsome Dr. McCoy we can get your physicals done and over with," he smiled while patting Bones' shoulders, making the CMO jump and then glare at his friend with so much fury that the girl he saw earlier kinda laughed.

"Alright, follow me. Nurse Chapel, if you would stay for the next round we can take turns."

"Will do, Doctor," she smiled as he left with the group. It was kind of a funny sight, it looked like a bunch of tourists and Bones was sadly the tour guide.

"Excuse me, Doctor, but how long are you into your five-year mission?" The girl asked him while catching up to him.

"About two years and believe me when I say it gets tiring after a while," he said while looking down at her. She was shorter than him by two or three inches and wore a blue dress. Either a science officer or a medical officer. He was hoping that she was a medical officer.

"Here's sickbay, go in and take a seat on the biobeds," he announced as the doors to sickbay opened. "I'll try to be with you as soon as I can."

He watched as people began to walk in and fill up the small sickbay. He went in after everyone else and walked to his desk and grabbed his PADD, which already had the new members' files on it.

This was going to be a long shift. He knew it, Nurse Chapel knew it, probably everyone knew the doctor would be suffering late shifts for the next few days. He rolled his head, popping his neck in the process, and began to work so Nurse Chapel could have sickbay for her patients.

After clearing most of his patients, he noticed that he hasn't gotten to the girl yet, so he made his way over. "Sorry about the wait," he apologized.

"It's fine, Doctor," she smiled, "I know how sickbays are."

"You're a medical officer," he stated rather than asked with a smile while pulling out his scanner and scanned it over her.

"And a lieutenant commander, can't forget about that," she laughed.

Oh god, her laugh sounded so lovely to him. It was like a melody to him and he was falling in love so fast with her and he didn't even know her name. Maybe Jim set him up, he's done it before. Maybe Jim didn't set him up and he just liked her.

He continued to check her vitals and asked her questions about her mental health. She was perfectly fit for duty and could start tomorrow and he told her this, earning a big grin from her.

"So, what time will I see you tomorrow?" She asked while jumping off the biobed.

"Tomorrow?" He asked, unsure what she meant, "You already got your physical."

"I'm a medical officer, remember? It would make sense if I work in a sickbay."

"Oh, right, I forgot. Yeah, I'll see you tomorrow, I'll have someone send you the schedule."

"Thank you, Doctor," she said cheerfully.

"Please, call me Bones," he insisted. "Only the first officer and my head nurse call me Dr. McCoy."

"Alrighty, Bones, I'm (Y/N). See you tomorrow!"

And she walked out of sickbay and he sat down his PADD in shock. He couldn't be in love, he was too old for her, but he couldn't stop thinking about her smile and her laugh.

"Dr. McCoy, you need to pick up the next round of crew members," Nurse Chapel said as he picked up his PADD, making him snap out of his thoughts.

He nodded and left sickbay and back to the transporter room to pick up the next round of patients.

#tos #star trek #bones mccoy tos #deforest kelley #star trek imagines #bones x reader #leonard mccoy

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goldenworldsabound · 4 years

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Okay so this is really random but I actually really love Star Trek (especially the original series) and I know you self ship with Spock so is it okay if I please ask for the background and some details about your insert perhaps? 👉🏻👈🏻🥺

cracks knuckles I LOVE TALKING ABOUT SPOCK AND TREK AND ALSO YES TOS IS SO GREAT!!!!!

I’mma shove the whole thing under a cut cause I wanna go off fhdkjads

Spock was my first fave ever (and he’ll always be very special for it) over a decade ago when I was in high school. I wrote tons and tons of pages about us. And I never told a soul until I got back into self shipping 3 years back or so. The original idea I had for my interest (which is not the current one) was that like. I got teleported into the future randomly (except it wasn’t random and I covered this in a zany time travel plot type episode) and turns out Trek Real. So Kirk and Bones and Spock were all trying to help me adjust and stuff! Kirk and Bones were familial figures for me at that time and Spock 🥺 Spock was like. Very uncertain how to deal with me BUT he respected how much I wanted to adjust to being thrown a thousand years into the future and he taught me SCIENCE things and we fell in LOVE. There were so many plots and twists and turns of this relationship but we bonded and got married and it was great 🥺❤💕 I could go on forever about the various episodes for this SI but I will hold off for the moment because that’s the old SI. The old tag was #love is fascinating hehe

My NEW SI is a childhood friends to lovers with Spock 👀 I have some fics I’ll link at the end actually BUT her family lived on a variety of planets throughout her childhood. One of those was Vulcan! Where she met young Spock who was still learning how to be more Vulcan than human. They became close friends for the time that she lived on Vulcan and accidentally brushed minds enough together that they created a small, weak bond. They didn’t know this!!! they were just two lonely kids messing around you know. She also defended him against bullies once which while it made him happy ultimately made things a little worse for him but ): what can you do

But then her family leaves (and Spock doesn’t go see her off because he knew he’d cry and his dad would be Disappointed ™) and it’s really sad ): eventually her family gets into some sort of space accident which she alone survives by being cryogenically frozen. It takes a few years before she’s found, so the age gap between them has widened since she just. Didn’t age as she’s cryogenically frozen. This means that by the time she’s doing Starfleet training, Spock is already done.

Eventually the Enterprise is being set up for it’s 5 year mission and she’s chosen to be a Science Officer onboard to serve under Spock. She’s been through a lot of shit and doesn’t remember why he seems familiar at first (also he’s grown up and is a lot more Vulcan and a lot less human), but upon getting near him the bond kind of tingles at the back of her mind and she’s like OH!!!! OH IT’S YOU!!!! Spock of course does remember her but he’s like we don’t have time for that yet launching a starship is very busy. He also realizes he’s sort of weakly bonded to her and he’s like ah that’s bad because...I am bonded to T’Pring.

SO!!! Spock and I work together on and off the bridge, and on missions, and everyone is like wow those two work together really well! Which most people don’t get along that well with Spock at first. But the first shoreleave we have Spock is like hey...look...we’re sort of bonded and that’s bad so let me undo that. And I’m devastated (he’s also devastated but quietly) because like his presence has been in my mind for most of my life and suddenly it’s gone and also I’d totally fallen for him and he’s bETROTHED and I’m just like. Fuck this. Fuck that. Fuck. Very upsetti. But Kirk and Bones see me being grumpy and alone on shore leave so they hang out with me and that starts up our friendships (and eventual romance with Kirk).

But Spock and I continue to be really close and work together very well and rumors circulate about us having crushes on each other. Which. It does seem to be the case. But I’m like NO he can’t have a crush on me he’s BETROTHED and I’m full of heartache at all times (Spock is too but that’s harder to notice obvs). Actually we’re both very professional about it in general and we ignore the rumors.

EVENTUALLY we get to The Pon Farr Episode fjkhdsaf and I’m super pissed and I yell at everybody (T’Pring, Vulcan elders, you know, lots of folks I shouldn’t yell at) about how I love Spock and this is just!!! Ridiculous and fuck you specifically T’Pring (grrRRRRRR) and Bones gets me to calm down but it’s TOO LATE Spock 300% heard me say I love him. But I’m like I guess it doesn’t matter cause he might die.

Of course he doesn’t and that’s very good but now I am thoroughly embarrassed because I confessed in front of so many people so I avoid Spock to the point that it affects our work and Jim is like Wendy. You have to talk to him. He’s trying to talk to you. I say this as your friend but soon I’m gonna be saying it as your Captain and I’m like okay. Fine. I guess. And then we talk and we start dating hKJFEWHJFKEWHJK it’s tender, I promise.

Also up until Pon Farr Episode shit Kirk and I have been dating on and off too (secretly) but like. I mean we both love each other but we also are both pretty obviously into Spock and it’s hard because Kirk struggles with the fact that the ship has to be his first priority so it’s not really fair to me if he dates me (I insist I don’t mind but I’m also super preoccupied thinking about Spock a lot of the time).

After Spock and I are bonded and married this becomes an OT3 situation as well because um we both love Kirk.

So hopefully some of that was intelligible KHFJFHW here is a link where you can find all the fics I posted sorted by ship!!! The OT3 is #interwoven stars, Spock and I is #across time and space, and Kirk and I is #solar flare love

https://goldenworldsabound.carrd.co/#tos

thanks for coming to my TED Talk

#love is fascinating #across time and space #solar flare love #interwoven stars #I resisted so many details and it's still super long fdhsjahfsdj

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hotforharrison · 5 years

Text

Time’s Up Part 4

Part 3 <-- Series Masterlist --> Part 5

Pairing: Harrison Osterfield/Reader

Summary: Making the most of seven minutes in heaven with Harrison.

Word Count: 750

Warnings: Language and smut, my usual go-tos.

A/N: I like a challenge, and this is definitely challenging me! This is for the 750-word challenge by @screamsbytom for the word “unfair.”

After you’d been kicked out the bathroom with Harrison, you both returned to the party, which was now in full swing.

It was quickly obvious that neither of you wanted to be there any longer, but weren’t sure how to bring it up.

“Do you want to go somewhere else with me?” Harrison eventually broke the silence.

“God yes,” you replied instantly.

“Tom’s having a party tonight,” he told you.

“If he’s having a party, why did we go to this party?” you asked.

“Because I wanted to be alone with you, and Tom likes to fuck with me,” he answered with a chuckle.

“I have roommates, but we could go back to my place. I’m guessing they’re probably out anyway. No one would bother us,” you offered.

“Sounds good to me,” he agreed. “Did you drive here?”

“Yeah. I didn’t plan on drinking,” you responded.

“I didn’t drive, so lead the way,” he said.

You walked around the block to where you’d parked and got in the car with him, not sure what to talk about during the drive.

Shortly after you started driving, his hand moved over onto your bare thigh, slowly inching up as you headed back to your apartment.

He paused after he reached the hem of your short skirt, playing with the fabric while looking over at you questioningly.

Your heart was pounding in your chest at the thought of what was about to happen. You swallowed heavily. “I’m not stopping you.”

That was apparently all he needed, using his hand to nudge your thighs apart.

You helped him as much as you could within the confines of your skirt, glad he had stolen your panties so there was an additional barrier out of the way.

His fingers slipped between your folds. “Fucking soaked for me. Gonna make you cum so hard, pretty girl.”

Every time he used it, you fell more in love with the pet name. You desperately wanted to be his pretty girl.

When his fingers rubbed slick circles around your clit, you had to focus very hard on driving, and even then it was rough.

He slid his fingers back to press two, then three, into you while his thumb took over on your clit. Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to move them much in the confined space, but the fullness was still amazing. You definitely weren’t going to complain.

You tried rolling your hips against his hand as much as you could while still using the pedals. That made it even better, but worse in terms of driving. It really wasn’t safe to keep up what you were doing.

“Fuck it,” you muttered, quickly pulling into a parking lot.

You immediately tugged your skirt up more and spread your legs wider, giving him better access, which he eagerly took advantage of.

His fingers fucked into you fast and deep while you rode his hand hard, working in tandem toward what you knew was going to be a spectacular orgasm.

“Oh god, I’m almost there,” you moaned, fingers of one hand wrapped around his bare arm.

“Cum for me, pretty girl,” he told you, his voice thick with desire.

His words and the pet name in that sexy London accent of his were enough to send you over the edge into one of the most intense climaxes you’d ever had, toes curling in your heels, and free hand scrambling for purchase on the wheel.

You accidentally hit the horn, startling both you and Harrison.

“Hopefully no one noticed that,” you said, still breathing hard. “I’m gonna need a minute. You’re so good at this, it’s unfair.”

He chuckled as he withdrew his hand from between your legs, bringing his fingers to his mouth to slowly lick them clean while you stared. “Really wish I could’ve eaten that delicious pussy again just now. Later.”

“I want to get my mouth on you again, need your dick so bad. Please wreck me, Harrison, fucking ruin me,” you begged.

“Christ,” he said under his breath. “How far is your apartment from here?”

“Too far,” you answered with a groan.

A knock on the driver’s side window made you jump.

You hesitantly rolled the window down.

“I heard you honk the horn. Is everything alright?” what was obviously a security guard asked.

“Yeah, uh, we’re lost and just stopped to check the GPS, sir. I hit it accidentally,” you explained.

He nodded. “Have a good night, ma’am.”

“Shit, that was close,” Harrison commented.

You nodded, embarrassed.

tag list: @adayasgeorgia @moorehollandplz @softnessparker @dasexydevitt13 @imagine-lovebug @strang-ersclub @hollandisapuppy @goldenpeaxh @legendsofwholock @superheroesaremytea @tomblrholland @niiight-dreamerrrr @spidermanffh3000 @devildisguiseasangel @theyy-lovemo @jinx4karma @screamsbytom @definitely-not-black-cat @robbinholland

#harrison osterfield #harrison osterfield fanfiction #harrison osterfield fanfic #harrison osterfield x you #harrison osterfield x y/n #harrison osterfield x reader #harrison osterfield smut #harrison osterfield imagine #haz osterfield #b750challenge #harrison osterfield you #harrison osterfield reader #harrison osterfield reader insert

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gumnut-logic · 5 years

Text

The Fate of Thundersub Two

Title: The Fate of Thundersub Two

Author: Gumnut

5 Jan 2020

Fandom: Thunderbirds Are Go 2015/ Thunderbirds TOS

Rating: Teen

Summary: You can push it only so far. Episode tag to 3.19.

Word count: 1920

Spoilers & warnings: Spoilers for 3.19 and future episodes of season 3.

Timeline: Immediately after 3.19

Author’s note: This was quickly written with no brain and reflects the quality of my lack of cerebral functioning at the time. I literally killed off sleep to write this because I’m supposed to be writing my other fic. But we have an episode tag :D And hopefully I can sleep in a little tomorrow since it is nearly 2.30am at the moment. I hope you enjoy this anyway :D

Many thanks to my wonderful supporters, you know who you are. ::extra big hugs::

Disclaimer: Mine? You’ve got to be kidding. Money? Don’t have any, don’t bother.

-o-o-o-

Hiram Hackerbacker was a patient man. Science requires patience so it was to his advantage to have as much of it as possible.

However, having co-existed with the Tracy family for many years, that patience had often been tested, and today was another one of those days.

He had been in the midst of fuel calculations for the Zero-X. They had hit a snag in the weight and energy expenditure ratio and he was reduced to having to create a lighter, more energy efficient fuel. This required molecular calculation and design, something which involved a great deal of concentration.

To have John interrupt him to say that Virgil had taken Thunderbird Two for a swim yet again was enough to throw all the calculations out of his head. “W-what?!”

“I’m sorry, Brains, but Virgil needs your help. Two is on approach and her systems are experiencing intermittent failures.”

“Th-that’s because she is n-not a submersible.”

John shook his head. “Rescue called for it and you know Virgil. Whatever is necessary.”

Brains sighed. “V-very well.”

John smiled at him before switching the feed to Thunderbird Two.

“V-Virgil?”

“Hi, Brains.” There was considerable guilt in his fellow engineer’s expression. “I have VTOL failure in two out of four engines and I suspect her port rear thruster isn’t going to last much longer. I may need to crash land.”

Brains bit back on a curse. “Have you t-tried the auxiliary p-power relays?”

“Yeah, no go.”

Switching the feed to his phone, Brains strode out of his lab and ignored the door that slammed behind him. “Where are Gordon and Thunderbird Four?”

“FAB2.”

“Why?”

“Didn’t want to risk him. And, well, he had other concerns.”

Brains frowned as he stormed into the comms room. Scott was glaring at him and the duplicate hologram of Virgil hanging in the middle of the room. Brains ignored him and pulled up Thunderbird Two’s status.

He groaned.

“Virgil, you know as m-much as I that you c-can’t land her. Her secondary c-computer core is flooded, her p-primary core is well on the way to joining it. It is a m-miracle you are still air-borne. In fact, you should d-ditch her into the ocean as s-soon as p-possible before the decision is t-taken from you.”

The hologram of the second eldest Tracy sagged. “Where?”

“T-two hundred m-metres from the island m-minimum. We will r-recover her.” Virgil’s expression was tragic. “I promise.”

Beside Brains, Scott straightened. “Virgil, that’s an order. We can’t risk you. I’ll launch Thunderbird One and assist.”

Virgil glanced down before obviously steeling himself. “FAB.”

Scott’s lips tightened and he nodded at his brother before loping up the steps and disappearing into his chute.

Moments later, One erupted out of the pool deck and disappeared to the south in search of her crippled sister.

Brains shivered.

And waited.

-o-o-o-

Virgil Tracy knew how to swear and at this moment he was exercising every piece of profanity he could bring to mind.

Brains was right. Two was going to fall from the sky, it was only a matter of time. His dash was screaming at him, a new red light and alarm added every few minutes. This would make it the third time he would have to fish his ‘bird out of the ocean.

She dropped suddenly as her port thruster sputtered, her flight path skewing as her forward thrust struck out of balance. Shit. Goddamnit.

“C’mon, Two only a hundred or so kilometres and we’re home.”

She sputtered again.

And her port thruster died completely.

“Shit!” His girl swung around in an unbalanced turn, weight and thrust completely out of sync.

It was a terminal spiral dive. There was not a damn thing he could do.

Didn’t stop him from trying.

She ignored him.

The ocean and sky began to spin.

A solid thunk on her hull, a screaming roar, and her spiral slowed, her altitude and direction corrected...and the blue of auto took over her controls. “Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two, I have your control...what little you have. Compensating for your thruster failure. Virgil, bail out.”

“Scott-“

“Now, Thunderbird Two!” His brother’s voice stood for no argument.

Defeated. “FAB.”

He threw his chair back and yanked out his emergency jet pack from the overhead locker. He secured it to his baldric and harness, and with one last look at his beloved cockpit, stepped onto the platform and sent it up through the overhead hatch.

The roar of One assailed him through his helmet, the wind a buffeting aggravation.

“Virgil, move your ass, she’s about to hit!”

And the ocean was far too close for comfort.

He triggered the jetpack and shot up into the sky.

Just as his ‘bird hit the water.

It was spectacular.

And heart-breaking.

One disengaged before impact, accelerating out of harm’s way. Scott had killed Two’s remaining thruster, but her speed was too fast and as her nose caught the water, the momentum differential between forward and back, flipped her head over tail.

Virgil gasped as her belly was exposed to the sun and she hit the water like a breaching whale.

His heart attempted to beat itself to death against his ribcage.

With little more than a bubbling sigh, his girl began to sink below the waves.

No.

“Deploying inflater bags.” Scott’s voice was protocol. Over comms specifically for Virgil, it was reassurance.

Yellow appeared in the water below and the bags rose, somewhat awkwardly as they were deployed from the now underside of the upside down Thunderbird.

But his girl was floating and not disappearing into the depths.

He let his breath go.

-o-o-o-

“Thunderb-bird T-Two is not a s-submersible!”

Gordon jumped as Brains’ angry voice hit him. He had hurried back the moment John had told him that Virgil had crashed his ‘bird. Of course, the Indian Ocean was a fair way away by sub, so it had taken him quite some time to make it back to the Island without the assistance of his cargo carrying brother.

After docking Four, Gordon had the unpleasant experience of discovering Two in her hanger. The puddle around her and behind her where she had been dragged in by the heavy duty pods punctuated her condition loudly.

Thunderbird Two wasn’t going anywhere for quite some time.

“Lives were at stake.” Virgil’s voice was strained.

“Yes, including yours.” Oh great, Scott was in on this. Though, to be honest, where else would Scott be in this situation? “You could have killed yourself, Virgil. Either in the water with the freighter or when you crashed your own ship.”

“You ordered me to ditch her!”

“She was going down anyway! You would have been killed!”

Great. There it was. Scott had had the shit scared out of him again. How many times had his eldest brother been faced with Virgil crashing his ‘bird?

Too many times.

Gordon sighed and took that last step into the comms room.

Someone had to save his brother from his big brother and the resident genius engineer.

“Hey, guys.” All three turned to stare at him. “Virg, you okay?”

A single nod. Well, as okay as a Tracy brother could be when their ‘bird is in pieces.

Brains’ turned back to Virgil. “R-repairs are going to t-take some time. Time we do not have l-leading up to the Zero-X p-project.”

“I will work on repairs.”

“V-Virgil, you d-do not understand. Th-thunderbird Two’s frame was w-warped in the collision. She is s-tructurally unsound. She n-needs a new hull. The plane in the hangar is only g-good for sp-spare parts.”

Gordon’s heart sank as Virgil stared at Brains.

“I-I’m s-sorry, V-Virgil. Thunderbird T-Two needs to b-be rebuilt entirely.”

Virgil was still staring.

Gordon was doing a little staring of his own. “How can International Rescue operate without Thunderbird Two?”

“I’m a-afraid, it will h-have to m-make do.”

Virgil was still staring at Brains, his expression caught in shock.

Scott looked a little stunned himself, but his eyes kept darting between the two engineers.

Until Virgil sat down hard on the couch behind his heels.

“Virgil?”

But Virgil had buried his face in his hands.

It was a matter of strides before Gordon was sitting beside his brother. “Hey, Virg. We will rebuild her.” His hand landed on a tense shoulder.

Virgil didn’t respond.

-o-o-o-

The next few days were quiet for Brains. Mostly because he was tackling the fuel design problem and not having much luck, so consequently had locked himself in his lab in order to focus on the problem.

It was the fourth day after the demise of their cargo carrier before he saw Virgil again. The pilot had disappeared into the villa and the few times Brains had surfaced for food or been physically dragged out of his lab by Sally Tracy, Virgil hadn’t be anywhere to be seen.

He did know that John arrived down from Five on the second day and late one night as he was stumbling to his rooms, Scott and John could be heard having a very loud ‘discussion’ in the comms room. Brains knew better than to interrupt that. When the Tracy’s argued, there was usually enough passion in the room to set the furniture alight, not to mention random engineers who might accidentally get in the way. So he went to bed and ignored it.

But on the fourth day, Virgil appeared in Brains’ lab, eyes a little bloodshot and demeanour tired. Brains didn’t realise he was there at first. It wasn’t until Virgil reached around him and asked him about the fourth variable in his equation, that he realised he was being watched.

“Oh, V-Virgil. H-how are you?”

“Fine. Just on the hunt for some J-12 threads for Four.” A frown. “What are you doing? Is that praeline oxide? Are you trying to bind it with neutrozine?”

“Yes. W-we need an increase in fuel energy with a r-reduction in mass.”

“Why?”

“The Zero-X fuselage is too large to b-be launched at current r-ratios.” He threw up the design hologram for his fellow engineer.

Those bloodshot eyes frowned. “You’ve based the design on the original Zero-X.”

“M-most certainly. It was the m-most efficient d-design.”

“But it is not working.”

“No. We have d-different mass require-ments to the original d-design and, so far, I have been unable to compensate.”

Virgil spun the hologram around on its axis. A slight frown and he pulled out his phone, stabbing it with his finger.

“Cahelium would lighten the load, perhaps enough to stick with the current fuel.”

“We do not have enough p-processed cahelium in store and n-not enough t-time to refine more.”

Virgil pursed his lips and stabbed his fingers at his phone again.

An undefined expression flickered across his face. Voice quiet. “Yes, you do.” A swallow and he held up his phone. “Cannibalise Two.”

Brains stared at the hurried calculations and his eyes widened. “Yes. That is perfect!” He scribbled down the numbers into his tablet. Within moments he had cross referenced the resources and added up exactly what he needed. Two would tip the scales. He could also possibly use her structure as it was. It would speed up production. Of course, with her damage, he would need to check her integrity thoroughly.

If only he could use Three as well, he could incorporate her strength here. That would require extra thrust there, but then Three had that strength already.

The calculations piled up in his head. By the time he had come up with a feasible design, Virgil was long gone.

-o-o-o-

FIN.

#thunderbirds are go #TAG Spoilers #tagspoilers #thunderbirds #thunderbirds fanfiction #Virgil Tracy #Hiram Hackenbacker #Scott Tracy #Gordon Tracy #episode tag

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athirdofgosh · 4 years

Text

ShikaTema Short (ft. Shikadai) - Operation Troublesome

I originally uploaded this 3/4 years ago but I delete my old account. I’m back now to finish what I started.

*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*

It was quite late in the evening at the leaf village, and the two Nara boys needed a favour, and by the looks of it, it was a BIG one. Inojin, expecting it to be his father, opens the door.

“Oh. Hey Shikadai, hey Shikadai’s dad.”

“Hey Inojin. Are your parents in?”

“Right now, just my mom.”

“Great, that’s exactly who I need to talk to.” said Shikamaru with a hint of relief in his voice. The two enter into the house, Shikamaru walking quicker to the living room than usual.

“What’s up with your dad?” Inojin asked Shikadai.

“I’ll tell you in a bit” he nervously replied, awkwardly smiling as he scratched the back of his neck. The Shika-Ino kids headed to the bedroom to talk.

“So…” Inojin said wondering why the two came, “…what makes you and your pops come over? Isn’t it kinda late, It’s like 10:30.”

“Well..” He gave off a nervous chuckle before beginning his troublesome story, “Funny story really…”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

“…and make sure everything is spotless before both of you go to sleep.” exclaimed Temari, loudly slamming her bedroom door shut. She clearly wasn’t happy, but why? Reason: Shikamaru and Shikadai had forgotten to clean up the kitchen…again. Now don’t get the wrong impression, Temari is a very loving mother and an extremely loving wife, but for someone of her calibre to be subjected to washing pots, pans, plates and cutlery all the time - is a no no. So, when she came home to meet a mountain of dirty dishes in the sink, it made her tick. In this household everyone has to do their part. And if you don’t? It’s confiscation time.

The Shika duo continued their sluggish efforts to clean, Shikamaru washing the dishes, Shikadai drying them with a cloth.

Shikadai, head faced flat on the kitchen table, was first to clear the tension in the air with one mighty relevant question,

“I’m not getting my Gameboy back aren’t I?”

“Nope” answered his father as he scrubbed burn marks off a pot.

“And you’re not getting your phone back either.”

“Nope” Shikamaru sighed.

The two groaned simultaneously, “What a drag.”

“Why does mom have to be so grumpy all the time? We didn’t even notice the sink was full until she got back.” Shikadai moaned.

“I dunno, but it is what it is.”

*Mini ‘maru looked up to his older “Hey Dad, what do you see in mom?”

Shikamaru put down his sponge and turned in nostalgic joy. The time had finally come for him to tell his son the same thing his dad did.

“Well son, sometimes she….” He paused and thought, “Wait, he doesn’t need to know this yet. I mean, yeah, he’s around about the same age I was when my pops told me, but do I really want him to have girls on his mind right now”.

Shikadai, interrupting his moment of thought, “Sometimes she….?”

“…I’ll tell you later.” And he went back to washing up.

“Ahh daaad! Pleaseee talk to mum!” He couldn’t hold in his upset anymore; he was on the verge of completing the most popular videogame in the village which no one had even come close to finishing. The kid was known for being the ‘Game Completion-ist’ and that title couldn’t be lost to anybody.

“There’s no point. What makes you think she’ll listen to me? We’re both in trouble.” Shikamaru really wanted his phone back too, he’d been on a winning streak on the Shoji app he downloaded a few days before. However, the game he was in before his phone was confiscated by the annoyed blonde was tough. So tough that if he had to range it from Genin level difficulty to Jonin level difficulty…it would probably fly off the scale and land on Jinchuuriki level.

“Can’t you just take it?”

“She’ll stop me.”

“Then use Shadow Possession to stop her!”

“Your mom hates Shadow Possession Jutsu being used on her, and with a passion. Last time that happened she (*SPOILER* *SPOILER* *SPOILER*) …then we (*SPOILER**SPOILER**SPOILER*) ….which led to (*spoilers from the ShikaTema series*)…until (*SPOILER**yes I am shamefully advertising my story in this one shot**SPOILER*)…resulting in (*SPOILER* *sorry* *SPOILER*)”

“…oh…well I guess that’s a no then.”

The two continued their wash-dry duet until Shikadai had a eureka moment.

“Dad! I’ve got an idea!” He eagerly said and tip-toed to his ear to reveal his mastermind plan. Shikamaru’s face began lighting up as the steps to the plan were revealed, it was calculated, it was strategic, it was…. a plan worthy of a Nara.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

“What was the plan???” Inojin asked keenly, rocking back and forth on his bed in anticipation. Shikadai smirked. “The plan was simple, retrieve the Gameboy and the phone”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Shikamaru and Shikadai creeped up behind the bedroom door, cautiously avoiding all the wooden tiles that where known to creek when stepped on.

“Did you get the spare duvet from the closet?” Shikamaru whispered.

“Yeah, it’s on the sofa.” Shikadai whispered back.

“Good. Now remember, she keeps the confiscated things in the bottom drawer, so ONLY go for that one.” He made that instruction very clear.

“Ok. I’ll go in first, you come in when you hear me groan.”

“Right.”

Shikadai opened the bedroom door and entered to meet Temari sitting upright in the middle of the king-sized bed, legs stretched across the duvet, looking over paperwork. He lazily strolled to the bed as if he was out of energy and flunked himself right next to his mother.

She peeked over and questioned him, “Is the kitchen tidy?”

“Yes mom.”

“Don’t lie.” she said sternly.

“Mom, the kitchen is spotless. You can even go and see for yourself.” Temari’s eyes returned to her paperwork.

“…..can I have my Gameboy back now?”

“No.” She answered firmly, her eyes still glued the sheets in her hand. Shikadai groaned, loud and clear, an indication for Shikamaru to come in, which he did.

Shikamaru entered the room in the same fashion his son did, lazily and with a lack of energy. Temari still not convinced that the kitchen was tidy to her standards asked her husband;

“Shikamaru, is the kitchen tidy?”

“Yes Tema.” He replied in his ever so monotone voice.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

“….so, I covered myself in the duvet, faced outwards and waited for my dad to do his part.” Shikadai was getting more and more into it as he told the story.

“What was your dad’s part?” Inojin asked.

“To take his hairband off. My mum can’t help touching his hair when it’s all out.” And he was right…

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Shikamaru pulled his hairband swiftly off his ponytail and slid under the duvet on the other side of his wife, intentionally flicking his hair next to her arm. She, almost off instinct alone, reached her hand out and rifling her fingers through his silky black hair. Temari loved the feeling of his hair, she had no idea why, she just did.

“Are you not going to go to sleep?” he asked.

“Not yet, I’ve still got a couple of pages to read over.”

“Hmm. How….”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

“…and I waited for the key phrase.”

“That being?"

……………………………………………………………………………………………

”…troublesome"

In a flash, Shikadai grabbed the pillow from under his head and swung it at Temari, smacking the sheets out of her hands. Before she could react BOOF, another one, this time from Shikamaru. It was a tag team assault from the duo. Temari tried to jump out of the bed but the pillow hits kept coming.

“Ah-! Oi-! You-pffft!” pillow feathers accidentally fell into her mouth.

……………………………………………………………………………………………“What!” shouted Inojin in disbelief.

“WHAT!!!” shrieked Ino from the living room. The two looked over at the door.

“….I think your dad’s at the same part of the story as us.”

“….there’s more by the way….”

……………………………………………………………………………………………

Temari, bracing all the pillow hits, lays out her arm in reach of Shikamaru, a move that Shikadai predicted. In that instant he flipped the duvet over her, covering her body, Shikamaru followed suit and held down his duvet wrapped wife on the bed.

“Ah! I swear- Grr! Get off-!”

“Shikadai! Now!”

Shikadai hoped over the two and slid off the other side of the bed to the drawer. He frantically pulled open the drawers, accidentally pulling open the top drawer first. What items he saw in that drawer shocked him.

“…oh…oh wow…damm….” The drawer was filled with square packets that had rubbery circle things in it, some of the packets read ‘pineapple flavour’. He looked back at his parents who both, gobsmacked, froze in their positions.

“…THE BOTTOM DRAWER!” screamed Shikamaru.

Shikadai pulled the bottom drawer and grabbed the phone and Gameboy.

“Go, Go, Go!” he shouted as be began leaping off Temari. The Shika duo ran for the bedroom door while Temari in utter rage tried to free herself from the duvet. Shika seeing that she was almost free runs back to the bed, tilts the mattress causing her to tumble off the edge, and sprints out, closing the door after him. The guys regroup downstairs in the living room.

“Yesss! We did it!” cheered Shikadai as he went to high-five his old man.

“Mission accomplished.” and the two excitedly high-fived each other.

“….mom’s not that pissed, right?”

“Right now, yeah she is. But tomorrow morning she should be fiiine. I’ll tell her it was payback for that prank she pulled on me with your uncle, she’ll get over it by the end of the day” answered Shikamaru as he snugged into the duvet on the sofa. He knew there was noooo way he could go back up there. Before he could enjoy the great feeling of lying on the sofa and playing shoji on his phone, he heard a quiet rattling sound.

“…errm, Shikadai. Did you lock the bedroom door...after you left?”

“Lock it? You never said-”

“WHERE’S MY BLOODY TESSEN!”

“Crap! RUN SHIKADAI! RUN OUTSIDE!”

Temari grabbed her Tessen from the closet and jumped downstairs to see the boys already dashing far off into the distance.

“YOU TWO COME BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!!! I SWEAR I’M GOING TO BREAK YOU BOTH!”

The pineapple-head boys stopped where they were, noticing that they were too far for her to attack them with her Tessen without destroying the Nara compound.

“Hey Temari!” shouted Shikamaru, “........you alright?!”

“AM I ALRIGHT!” the blonde haired kunoichi was livid. “DO I LOOK ALRIGHT!”

A light flashed on from a neighbouring villagers window.

“Excuse me! Some of us are trying to slee-”

“SHUT UP!” Temari roared.

“….sorry.” The neighbour turned off his light and wept himself to sleep, learning to never interrupt an argument ever again. :)

“….I..I love you hun-?”

“COME AND SAY THAT TO MY FACE!!” Shikamaru tried to save himself using the ‘I love you’ phrase, but he failed. Epically.

……………………………………………………………………………………………

“…aaand after that we came here, hoping that your mom could talk to her for us.”

Inojin couldn’t believe what he heard. Did pineapple head and pineapple head junior really decide to mess with the princess of Suna? Temari of the Sand?

“Well, urm. Good luck with that.”

Shikadai pulled out his Gameboy and turned it on, his face lit up when he realised the game had managed to autosave. He was still on the last level.

“Yes! I still have a chance to beat this game!”

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Shikadai!” Shikamaru’s voice from behind the bedroom door, “Let’s go, now.”

“One second dad!” he replied. “Looks like aunty Ino agreed to help us out.”

Relieved, in his usual laid-back manner, he walked to the bedroom door and opened it… to find his dad awkwardly kneeling on the floor with his ears twisted by a very, VERY - VERY furious woman. Shikadai’s face turned pale, like his soul had been kicked out of his body by this woman’s devilish stare.

“…..h-h-h-hey mom-”

“SHIKADAIIII!!!!!…”

Shikadai never got to complete that final level…ever.

R.I.P. Shikadai’s Gameboy. Gone but never forgotten

LOL. This would probably never happen….like ever, but we all need some ShikaTema humour in our lives. If you enjoyed this short please like and reblog to show that you do. BONUS SCENE!

[Outside in the middle of the street]

TEMARI:ヽ(`▭´)ﾉ Don’t you dare even think about running off this time!

SHIKAMARU: \(╥ₒ╥)/ L-Look Temari, we can talk this out-

TEMARI: (🔥益🔥) SHUT IT! And if you use ANY shadow techniques to save yourself, I swear - I WILL summon Kamatari!

SHIKAMARU: Com'on hun! What about Shikadai?! Wasn’t he apart of this too?!

TEMARI: Shikadai - A KID, will be punishment once I get to him! However, since you, a GROWN MAN, want to be childish and play games you’ll be punished like one!

SAI: ⊙_⊙ (Is this how she punishes Shikadai? No wonder why he always comes over to play.)

TEMARI: And to think my intellectual genius of a husband with an IQ of over 200 couldn’t stop and think “Wait, maybe messing with my wife when she’s clearly working hard at night isn’t such a good idea” BUT NO. Ooh ho ho! You are going to regret it!

SHIKAMARU: But TemTem! It was a harmless prank, that’s all-

TEMARI: \(🔥益🔥)ﾉ HARMLESS PRANK??? I fell off the bed! My work papers are a mess! MY SHIKADAI EVEN SAW OUR PRIVATE DRAWER!!!!!!

INO & SAI: ooooooh.... (Ino & Sai suggested that private drawer them)

SHIKAMARU: (WORRILY GROANS & SHIVERS IN FEAR) Ino! thought you were going to help me out! Do something!

INO: I did! She was going to blow you away with 3 moons, now it’s down to 2. See that? That’s friendship.

SHIKAMARU: WHAT! How is that-

INO: Ready Temari?

TEMARI: (≖.≖) Ready.

SHIKAMARU: O-Oi! Wait! Please!

(Temari swings her fan, hurling Shikamaru high and far into the night sky)

SHIKAMARU: AAAAAaaaaaahh…….

INO: (o_O) ouch, right into the Nara clan forest…

TEMARI: (-.-) (WATCHES HIM DESCEND INTO THE FOREST)

INO: (☞ﾟヮﾟ)☞ So…lunch tomorrow?

TEMARI: ☜(ˆ▿ˆ☜) Lunch tomorrow.

(meanwhile, Shikamaru hits a tree and begins falling, hitting every branch on his way down)

SHIKAMARU: Ah! Ow! Ee! Oo! Argh! *THUD*…aaahh!

(a deer walks up to him on the ground and looks down)

SHIKAMARU: (╥︣﹏᷅╥) …Sup.

DEER: (•ᴥ•) (DEEP MALE VOICE)….Sup.

HIDAN: (MUFFLED VOICE FROM UNDERGROUND) Sup….bitch.

#shikamaru #temari #boruto #naruto #shikadai #shikatema #fanfiction #story #anime #repost #ino #inojin #sai

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frauleinsmaria · 6 years

Text

The Facebook Flub (1/3)

Summary: When Emma accidentally sends a friend request to the wrong person, she doesn't expect much to come of it. But maybe this accident is the best decision she's ever made.

Rated: T for now, potentially high T/low M in the future

Also on AO3

A/N: Inspired by a comment I came across on Instagram asking people to share how their long distance relationships began: "I added the wrong guy on Facebook that I met at the bar...the guy I added lived in Germany and I was in Canada. That accident...is now my husband."

A few changes to make it fit Captain Swan, plus a whole lot of support and cheerleading from @wellhellotragic , @profdanglaisstuff , and @thejollyroger-writer later, here we are! Thanks a million, ladies, you’re the best.

Going out was the last thing Emma wanted to do tonight. She had a long week dealing with a tough case at work, the weather reports were calling for snow, and she had a headache- not to mention the fact that she didn’t feel like being hit on by some drunk low life.

“Those are all reasons for you to go out then,” Ruby insisted when Emma relayed all of this to her over the phone. “It’s Friday night. You need to come let loose with your friends and forget about whatever else is on your mind. And you know I’ll gladly fight off anyone who bothers you.” It took similar texts from Elsa, Graham, David, and Mary Margaret for her to finally give in and join them. Which is how she found herself sitting at the bar at one of their favorite burger and beer places downtown.

She was drinking one of her favorite beers, with Graham on her left side flirting with the guy behind the bar, and a stranger on her right who had been talking her ear off about some upcoming movie since he sat down an hour ago. Emma wasn’t all that interested- in both him or whatever this movie is- but she listened anyway. She didn’t have the energy to join the rest of her friends at the dart boards, and at least this guy wasn’t trying to flirt. So when he suggested she add him on Facebook before he left, she’d had enough to drink that she saw little reason to object.

It wasn’t until he was gone when she opened the Facebook app on her phone and realized she wasn’t one hundred percent sure of his name. He’d introduced himself when he first took the seat beside her, but that had been several beers ago, not to mention the loud music in the bar making some of his words hard to hear.

It had been something different that she’d never heard before. Killiam James, maybe? she thought as she typed it into the search bar.

“I should’ve known.” Ruby appeared behind her, holding a glass of whatever she’d picked for her poison tonight. “Don’t tell me you came out just to sit on your phone by yourself.”

“I’m not by myself. Graham’s he-” She turned and saw that the man in question had apparently slipped off with the bartender without her noticing.”Huh. Or maybe not.”

Ruby sighed. “Come on, Emma. You know you wanna watch Mary Margaret kick David’s ass at darts.”

That was a statement she couldn’t argue with. “Hang on. Let me do this first.” But Ruby instead grabbed her by the arm and dragged her toward the dart boards, causing Emma to hit “add friend” for the first option in her search results without paying much attention to the name or profile picture.

The guy from the bar and the friend request had been forgotten about by the next morning when she woke up with a pounding headache and wondered exactly when she’d started getting old.

The events of that Friday night didn’t cross her mind again until the next weekend. She’d gone to see Captain Marvel with David and Mary Margaret, who were always willing to join her to watch any superhero movie despite both of them losing track of the plot at least half an hour in. It wasn’t the same as getting to experience it with someone as invested as she was, but years of going to the movies by herself when she was younger made Emma grateful for their company regardless.

They arrived at the theater early, battling the lines at the ticket booth and again at the concessions stand for overpriced popcorn and candy. The theater was already filling up after they’d gotten snacks. Emma stepped on quite a few feet to get to the only empty three seats together. Once they were settled, she pulled out her phone and opened the front camera. “Smile, guys!” Mary Margaret got the memo, but David looked like a deer in headlights in their selfie. This was definitely getting posted.

She made a few adjustments to the lighting before posting the photo on Facebook and Instagram. It’s Captain Marvel time!

The lights in the theater dimmed as the first movie trailer began to play on the screen. Emma silenced her phone and dropped it into her purse before grabbing a fistful of popcorn and settling into her seat.

It was over two hours later when the movie had ended and the three of them had arrived back at David and Mary Margaret’s house before she thought to check her phone again. There was a new text from Elsa about the shirt she’d borrowed last week and a handful of social media notifications. She opened Facebook first to see the response to her pre-movie selfie. It was when she started scrolling through the list of various reactions that an unfamiliar name caught her eye. Of course since she’d tagged David and Mary Margaret in the photo, several people who’d liked it weren’t Facebook friends of hers or people she knew. But this one stood out- it belonged to a person she’d never heard of before, and one who was apparently on her friends list.

Killian Jones. She frowned and clicked the link to open his profile page. They had no mutual friends, but sure enough, they were friends with each other. The brief amount of information listed under his personal details told her he lived in London and worked for a company named Ship Shape.

Emma quickly began to question just how she knew this Killian Jones. They hadn’t gone to college together; his profile listed him as an alum of a university in London she’d never heard of. He wasn’t in her line of work, so that wasn’t a possibility.

What if he had been a previous one night stand? No, that definitely wasn’t the case. She rarely got men’s names when those happened, let alone befriended them on social media.

And there was no way she would have forgotten a face like his. His current profile picture was taken from a distance on a beach somewhere, which made his features a bit harder to notice. The handful of previous ones were closer shots though. There were a few that looked like they were taken at some kind of professional event and a selfie with a dog she presumed was his. He was gorgeous, she realized as she quickly flipped through them. Piercing blue eyes, a head of dark hair that successfully toed the line between messy and polished with a five o’clock shadow to match. Yeah, she definitely would have remembered him.

Emma scrolled through a few more photos before she started to feel like she was crossing some sort of line. She had zero ideas on who this Killian Jones even was, and yet there she sat combing through the details of his Facebook profile as if they were close friends.

Contacting him seemed like the most logical thing to do. She opened Messenger, still annoyed that the feature wasn’t included with the regular Facebook app anymore, and typed out a brief message. Hey. Sorry if this seems weird, but I was wondering how you and I knew each other?

Her phone chimed with a response only a few minutes later. Not weird, love. Although I was wondering the same thing considering you’re the one who added me.

She stared at her phone screen and read the message again. There had to be some kind of mix up. Her friends list was on the small side, mostly former classmates and coworkers, and the people she regularly interacted with now. What reason would she have for sending a friend request to Killian Jones all the way in London-

And then it hit her. “Killiam James,” she groaned, remembering the guy from the bar the weekend before. If that was even his name. Emma blamed the combination of beer and loud music for the mix up, which explained why she’d added this guy with such a similar name.

What was she even supposed to say to Killian Jones now? The truth was ridiculous, and she couldn’t think of a lie that sounded even moderately believable.

Honesty won out in the end. “What does it matter? He’s never gonna meet me anyway,” she muttered as she started to reply. So, funny story. I thought I was sending a friend request to a guy with a name that’s really similar to yours and I just now realized my mistake. I’m sorry again because I know how weird this all probably sounds to you.

She hadn’t expected another reply. He’d probably delete her from his friends list after learning the reason behind the mishap and forget all about their brief interaction. What she got instead was a huge surprise. That’s quite alright. I suppose it could have happened to anyone. But, while we’re here, can I ask how the movie was?

Movie? Oh, right. She’d gone to see Captain Marvel tonight. His liking her photo was what started all of this. I liked it a lot. Keep in mind I haven’t read the comics, so I don’t know how accurate anything was. But it’s a great addition to the MCU if you ask me. And the cat was awesome.

I’m glad to hear that. I don’t know much about the comics myself, I just like the films as well. I’ll have to keep my eye out for the cat you speak of when I see it for myself.

This conversation was already a positive changed compared to the ones she usually had about Marvel movies. Most people, men especially, would make fun of her or call her a “fake fan” when she admitted she wasn’t familiar with the comics and didn’t really have plans to change that. Not only was Killian Jones not making fun of her preferences, he actually seemed to share them.

Emma soon found herself discussing everything from Endgame theories to the newest Spider-Man: Far From Home trailer with him. It wasn’t until her eyes grew heavy and she started yawning that she realized it was after midnight. Had this guy really stayed up until five in the morning to talk superheroes with her? Crap. I just realized what time it is. I’m really sorry if I kept you up. You’re probably exhausted.

No worries, Swan- can I call you that? As coincidence would have it, I’m a bit of an insomniac. I likely would still be awake now regardless. Plus, I work for my brother, so he can’t fire me for sleeping on the job unless he wants to lose his kids’ favorite babysitter.

Swan is fine- after all, it is my name. Although I still feel like you may need to apologize to your brother on my behalf.

Truthfully, she didn’t expect to hear from Killian again. Sure, they’d had a long conversation about a shared interest of theirs, but that didn’t mean he had any desire to continue talking to a stranger in the middle of the night. Or at any other time, for that matter.

Which is why Emma was caught off guard when she received another Facebook message from him a few days later. Hello, Swan. I know it’s the middle of the day where you are so you’re probably working, but I just saw Captain Marvel with a friend of mine and I needed someone to discuss the end credits scene with since he’s not nearly invested in this.

Their conversation soon left movies entirely and shifted to their everyday lives. Within the next hour, she learned that he was thirty-one, worked as a marketing executive for the shipping company owned by his brother, was the proud uncle of a nephew and two nieces, and spent most of his free time hiking or reading whatever fantasy novel was next on his to read list. Emma was more hesitant when it came to sharing specifics about herself for several reasons: talking about herself wasn’t exactly something she enjoyed, she barely knew this guy, plus, what if he really wasn’t the person he claimed to be?

If there’s one of us that ought to be suspicious, it’s him, she thought. You added him first; you could be the one Catfishing for all he knows.

Their once sporadic conversations soon became a nightly occurrence, switching from Facebook Messenger to texts once they felt comfortable with sharing numbers. (The short amount of time this took didn’t go unnoticed to Emma. She refused to let herself think too much about it.) Over time, it soon became easier to open up to him about a number of different things. Some days it was her favorite color or flavor of ice cream, others it was conspiracy theories she believed that dealt with people like Marilyn Monroe and Kurt Cobain. Emma rarely brought up her upbringing or personal life, and he never asked.

On nights when Killian’s insomnia was particularly brutal, they watched Netflix together, one of the few pastimes they could share considering the distance between them. They usually chose comedies, preferring shows like The Good Place and Parks and Rec so they wouldn’t miss much of the story if they got caught up in whatever conversation they were having at the same time.

The first phone call happened by accident when they’d been talking about three months. Emma had just got in from work and was debating between Chinese and pizza for dinner when her phone began to vibrate. She froze at seeing Killian’s name on the screen. Why was he calling her? They had never talked outside of Facebook and texts. Phone calls had never even come up once in their conversations.

“H-hello?” she answered after a moment. “Killian?”

“Oi, Jones, is this your girlfriend?” Not Killian then, although another man with an accent who sounded far from sober. She heard some sort of commotion in the background, followed by, “Give me back my bloody phone!”

“Um, hello, Swan.” His voice sounded exactly as she’d imagined. (Not that she’d spent that much time thinking on the subject. Not at all.) The accent was there, of course, but his voice was softer and he sounded considerably more under control than whoever had greeted her. “How’re you doing?”

“I’m fine. Killian, don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you calling me? Where are you?”

“Well, you see, a few of us brought Liam to the pub tonight for his birthday, but I realized I’d forgotten to tell you about it earlier. I know you wanted to start Brooklyn 99 tonight since we finished New Girl. Anyway, I was in the middle of typing out a message to you explaining all of this when Will took my phone and called before I could stop him.” He sighed. Emma had a feeling Will would get an earful as soon as this conversation was over; she heard a lot about him from Killian, mostly complaints. “I’m terribly sorry, love. I’m sure this must be awkward for you.”

“It’s fine, Killian. I appreciate you for telling me, but I know you probably have better things to do on a Friday night than watch Netflix with a stranger in Boston.” Although that was the gist of their relationship from an outside perspective, Emma’s heart sank at her own words. She thought more for this virtual stranger than she did most of the people she saw in person on a regular basis.

“Don’t talk like that, Swan. Besides, it would’ve been bad form to leave you hanging without an explanation.”

She should have known he would be a stickler for manners, even for something as trivial as a regular Netflix binge. “Thanks, Killian. Seriously though, go enjoy your night out. Sing ‘happy birthday’ obnoxiously loud to your brother and maybe don’t let anyone else take your phone. We’ll catch up on Netflix later, alright?”

“Alright, love. Goodnight.”

The next time Killian called, it was intentional. Neither of them thought much of it.

The calls (via WhatsApp to keep from spending a fortune) soon became a semi-regular part of their “routine.” They didn’t happen as often as the texts, however, since it was harder to both talk and vaguely pay attention to whatever show they were watching at any given moment. Talking on the phone often made it easy to forget the difference in time zone and the ocean between them, even when Killian said something particularly British, like “tosser” or “knackered.”

She and Killian had their first shared experience with FaceTime the night before the surprise party she and Mary Margaret have planned for David. Emma had been asked to make cupcakes, something she now regretted agreeing to as she stood in her kitchen dumbfounded by the assortment of ingredients strewn out across the counter.

As if on cue, her phone vibrated.

Killian: How are the cupcakes coming along?

Emma: They’re not.

Do I really have to mix the wet and dry ingredients separately? They all go in the same bowl in the end. And how much batter do I put in the cupcake liners without them blowing up like mushroom tops? I don’t get why I had to pick a recipe that calls for baking soda AND powder too.

Basically, I need to be able to snap my fingers and have a professional chef in my kitchen to take care of this.

Killian: I’m no professional, but if you want to FaceTime, I could possibly help walk you through it.

Of course he could. She’d quickly learned that Killian Jones was one of those people who was unfairly good at most if not all things.

Emma opened the camera app on her phone to get a look at her current appearance. An old Rolling Stones t-shirt that probably should have been thrown out years ago, her-square rimmed glasses, hair thrown up on the top of her head in a messy knot, and no makeup, not to mention the zit on her chin that she hadn’t gotten the chance to get rid of yet. It would have to do. They were friends, and he already knew what she looked like thanks to social media. And she didn’t have time or energy to freshen up before she got the stupid cupcakes taken care of.

“Here goes nothing,” she muttered.

Her phone screen was taken up by Killian’s smiling face seconds later. “Hello, Swan.”

“Uh, hi.” Somehow he was even better looking in real time. It wasn’t fair. “You sure you’re up for this?”

“Come now, love. How hard can it be?”

“Consider who you’re dealing with, Killian. I almost cooked an oven mitt last week.” She didn’t add that it had happened due to their intense conversation on nineties one hit wonders and she’d been so distracted she hadn’t paid attention to where she’d placed the mitt after taking pizza out of her oven.

He barked out a laugh. “Something tells me chocolate cupcakes will smell much better. Do you have the recipe up?”

“Yeah. I’m sending it to you.”

Killian, being the good sport that he was, spent the better part of the next two hours going through the recipe step by step with her. Which was much easier said than done.

“You mean to tell me that not only do I have to mix the wet and dry ingredients separately, but I can only mix half of each together at a time?”

“Aye, that’s what the woman recommends.”

Emma had long since forgotten the name of the woman who’d posted the recipe online, but she had quickly become her worst enemy. “I should’ve just told Mary Margaret to make the damn cupcakes herself.”

“I highly doubt she could’ve gotten away with making cupcakes for her husband’s surprise party in their own house,” Killian noted.

How was it that he seemed to know her own family better than she did. “Yeah, well, then I should have bought cupcakes from the store and brought them to the party on one of my plates.” It would have at least saved the trouble of having a kitchen covered in flour, butter, and the other dozen or so ingredients she’d added to the mix.

She had just began pouring batter into one of the slots in her cupcake tin when Killian spoke up. “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Swan.”

“Killian, I may have the cooking skills of a dustpan, but I do know that cupcakes have to be baked.”

“Right you are, but what about liners?”

“Come again?”

“You know, the paper things? You’re going to have an awfully difficult time without them.”

Of course. “Shit!” Hurling the mixing bowl at the wall now seemed like a great idea. “I can’t believe I didn’t think about that.”

“Hmm.” She heard the sound of computer keys typing as Killian looked something up. “Do you have parchment paper? Several sites list it as a possible substitute.”

“Wouldn’t that look kind of tacky though?”

“You don’t exactly have a lot of options, love, unless you’re willing to make a trip to the store.”

Emma glanced at the clock above her oven. It was past ten. A handful of stores would be open, but she didn’t have the energy or motivation to change into decent clothes to leave the apartment. “Parchment paper’s fine, I guess. What does it say I’m supposed to do?”

He quickly walked her through the process, which was much simpler than she presumed. After cutting the parchment paper into squares and folding them around a glass that was the same size as the slots in the cupcake pan, the problem was solved. They rewatched one of their favorite episodes of The Good Place while the cupcakes baked. She was so caught up in the show that she wouldn’t have remembered to turn off the oven if Killian hadn’t reminded her.

“So far, so good,” she told him once the pans had been taken out of the oven and placed on her counter. “They smell incredible.”

“Don’t rub it in,” Killian groaned. “The only form of chocolate I have in my flat is unsweetened cocoa powder.”

“Well, that’s just depressing.”

The icing process, while tedious, went over much more smoothly than the baking had.

“Swan, you’ve got chocolate icing all over your cheek now.”

“Maybe so, but I’ve got two dozen nice looking cupcakes. Isn’t that all that matters?”

“I suppose,” he agreed. “Although you’re just giving me something else to make fun of you for.”

He laughed when she stuck her tongue out at him.

She’d gone this far without sampling anything, too concentrated on not botching the cupcakes. But the sound of her stomach growling reminded Emma she’d never eaten dinner. “You think I can justify having a cupcake now if I don’t eat one at the party tomorrow?”

“After all the work you’ve put in, I believe you could justify two.”

“You, Jones, are a bad influence,” she said, taking the nearest cupcake and pulling off the parchment sheet liner.

“A bad influence who reminded you of the importance of cupcake liners.”

“Ugh. I hate it when you’re right.” Emma took a hearty bite of the cupcake and couldn’t hold back the moan that escaped her lips. “Ohmgod.”

Killian was quiet for a moment. Then, “I presume it’s good?”

“It’s not good, it’s fantastic. I never thought I’d say that about something I made.” Another bite elicited the same reaction, her eyes closing as she savored the rich chocolate taste. This caused her to miss Killian blush as his eyes shifted away from the screen.

“Erm, well, I’m very glad to hear that.”

The cupcakes, thankfully, are a hit. Several people at David’s party ask Emma for the recipe, a few eve complimenting the unique choice of liners. Her own brother was skeptical that she’d made them herself.

“I did!” she insisted. “I mean, Killian provided moral support via FaceTime, but all the manual labor was my accomplishment.” Her family and friends have known about her unconventional friendship with Killian for awhile now. Most of them went along with the idea, although a few were skeptical that her virtual friend was really the person he claimed to be.

“You and this guy have gotten pretty close, haven’t you?” David was one of those skeptical people.

She shrugged. “Kind of. I guess we’re as close as friends can get when they’re on opposite sides of the pond and have never met in person.”

“And you’re sure he’s not, what’s the word, fishing with you?”

“The term is catfishing, David. And the answer is no, considering we FaceTimed during the cupcake ordeal and his face matches the one in all of his pictures.”

“If you say so. I just don’t want you to risk getting hurt.” He almost always went into Protective Big Brother mode whenever Emma referenced a guy in any capacity, and this was no exception.

“I appreciate that you care about me, but I don’t think you have anything to worry about considering the circumstances. The chances of the two of us meeting are basically nonexistent.”

A few days later, they were on their third episode of Schitt’s Creek of the night and discussing each other’s uneventful work days when he brought it up. “So, uh, Liam has been talking about sending me away for work sometime soon.”

“That’s cool. Does he want you to go back to the Dublin office again?” Emma remembered that he’d taken a short trip to Ireland for business not long after they’d became friends.

“Actually, no.” He paused. “He’s made a few comments about Boston this time.”

Any interest she had in the episode they’d been watching was long gone. “Oh really?”

“Yeah. Sometime next month, if nothing changes.”

Her next words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. “I know a semi decent tour guide who lives in that neck of the woods if you have some free time while you’re here. And, y’know, if you’d be up for that.”

“I think that could be arranged.” She couldn’t see Killian, but somehow she knew he was smiling.

Emma didn’t start freaking out until the day before his flight. She was at Elsa’s apartment with Mary Margaret and Ruby, drinking wine and eating Elsa and Anna’s homemade cookies at the kitchen table. She was on her third- okay, maybe it was her fourth- snickerdoodle, only half participating in the conversation when she glanced up and saw the three of them staring at her.

“Do I have something on my face?”

Mary Margaret gave her a knowing look. “Have you been listening to anything we’ve said?”

“Yeah, of course I have.”

“Emma, I just said that Granny was having surgery next month, and your response was, ‘that’s cool,’” Ruby deadpanned.

Her face flushed red with embarrassment. “I’m sorry. Just have a lot on my mind I guess.”

“Is something goin- oh!” Elsa exclaimed. “Aren’t you finally meeting that friend of yours from London tomorrow?”

“Yeah. His plane is supposed to come in at two, then I’m meeting him for dinner and a little sightseeing before his meetings start the next day.”

“That’s really all you’ve got planned for him?” Ruby waggled her eyebrows over the rim of her wine glass.

Emma rolled her eyes. “C’mon, Ruby. He’s just my friend.”

“Your very attractive male friend, who you talk either to or about nonstop,” Mary Margaret added.

She shot her an annoyed glance. “I thought family was supposed to be on my side.”

“I am on your side! I want you to be happy, and I’m just saying maybe you should be open to the possibility that Killian could have something to do with that.”

Leave it to her sister-in-law to bring Emma’s love life (or lack thereof) into the conversation. ““Don’t get any ideas, Mary Margaret. I love that you’re an eternal optimist, but everything else aside, he lives over three thousand miles away. I never thought we would actually meet.”

“People do long distance all the time,” Elsa chimed in. “Anna and Kristoff did for several months when he was away doing research about climate change in the North Pole. It wasn’t easy, but they got through it and are happier than ever now.”

She wanted to remind Elsa that her sister and her fiance had been together for over two years before this, but disregarded the thought. “I know you all mean well- even though it seems like Ruby just wants me to get laid- but can we change the subject? Killian is my friend. That’s all there is to it.”

Even as she said the words, Emma wondered for the first time whether that was actually true.

Her intention had been to sleep in the next morning since she’d gone ahead and taken the day off. But, much to her dismay, she was wide awake at seven. By ten she’d gone for a run, showered, eaten breakfast, and cleaned most of her apartment. It was tempting to blame the random burst of energy on wanting to be productive while she had the time to spend at home, but that wasn’t it.

She was excited to see Killian. And the closer that came to happening, it terrified her too.

For starters, what if they didn’t mesh as well in person as they did online or over the phone? It sounded silly just to think about, but maybe actually being in each other’s space for the first time would somehow change how their friendship worked.

The conversation she’d had with her friends the day before wasn’t helping matters either. What they’d said shouldn’t have been getting to her like it was. Every argument she’d made against their insinuations about her and Killian had been true.

Then why have you barely paid attention to other guys since the two of you started getting close? The thought came to her once she’d started walking laps around the apartment just to keep her busy. Dating for her had been a rare occurrence since Neal almost ten years earlier. Walsh was the one exception, and things with him hadn’t gone much better. One nighters happened now and then when she wanted to scratch an itch without having strings attached. But even one of those hadn’t happened in months.

She didn’t even know whether or not Killian had been seeing anyone. Her first assumption was no. He’d never once mentioned dating, and, regardless, he’d spent the majority of his nights over the past handful of months talking to her. His unconventional friendship with her on top of his job and his family didn’t give her the impression he had a lot of time for dating.

Emma glanced at the clock on her phone. It was just after twelve. “Dammit.” Even with traffic, it would be at least another hour and forty-five minutes before she needed to leave unless she just wanted to drive in circles around the airport.

“Screw it,” she said at one-thirty after she’d won her fourth game of solitaire. TSA might give her hell about parking if she had to wait a bit for Killian, but she couldn’t sit around her apartment much longer without losing her mind.

There was a knock on her door just as she was pulling on her jacket and boots. She went to the door and found her brother standing with his arms crossed over his chest. “Hey, David.”

“Oh, good. I was hoping I’d catch you in time.”

“In time for what?” she asked. “I’m about to leave for the airport.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m coming with you.”

He’d known she was going to meet Killian today for over a week and had yet to mention this to her. “What? Why?”

“I don’t want you going alone, Emma. It’s not safe; you’ve never met this guy.”

She rolled her eyes. “Seriously? I could understand if I’d met a guy on a dating site or something, but I’ve known Killian for months now, David. I’m pretty confident that I’m not picking up a serial killer.”

The frown on his face hadn’t budged. “Either way, I’d still like to meet him before I leave you alone with him. Gotta let him know what he’s dealing with if he hurts you.”

Emma checked the time on her phone again. “Ugh. Let’s go,” she groaned. “You’re not gonna let this go, and I don’t have time to argue with you about it.”

Any nerves she’d felt before had briefly been alleviated by the desire to strangle David. The drive to the airport was spent with her hands wrapped tightly around the steering wheel so she wouldn’t wrap them around his neck instead.

“Are you gonna insist on spending the day with us too?” she asked as she pulled into the airport’s parking lot and looked for the garage for short term parking.

He shrugged. “Not sure yet. Ask me again once I’ve met him and had a chance to evaluate.”

“You’re insufferable, you know that?”

“I’m your older brother. That’s my job,” he insisted.

Emma parked in the short term garage connected to the airport. There was no point in trying to wait at the curb since she knew they’d be asked to move. She and Killian had decided to meet at the landside area, so she sat and waited for a text that he’d arrived and tried to ignore David tapping his fingers against the passenger door.

Her phone vibrated a few minutes later. Hello, Swan. Just wanted to let you know I’m waiting for my luggage and then I should be good to go.

Emma swallowed hard as she got out of the car on shaking legs. This was it.

She was too anxious to object when David followed her out of the garage and into the airport; she’d known better than to expect him to wait in the car for them.

When they’d entered the waiting area, Emma quickly scanned the room for a familiar face, coming up short. This was the place where they’d agreed to meet, wasn’t it? He’d sent her the text just minutes ago confirming their plans. What were the chances the nerves had gone to her head and made her mix something up?

She was so lost in thought she failed to hear the footsteps coming up behind her. “Someone in particular you’re looking for, love?”

They’d FaceTimed on several occasions and shared more ridiculous Snapchats than necessary. Emma knew what to expect. And yet, somehow, she’d been all wrong. His eyes were so much brighter and vibrant in person, there was no way to accurately capture that on camera. There was a tinge of red to his hair and scruff she’d never noticed. She liked it. A lot.

“Hello, Swan.” Shit. His already perfect smile was somehow better in person too. It wasn’t fair.

“Killian. Hi.” How could she have talked to him for hours on end over the past few months and be at a loss for words now?

They stood in silence for a moment, each trying to take the other in. Emma wasn’t sure how she was supposed to greet him. Was their friendship advanced enough to permit a casual hug? Or should she stick to a handshake?

David solved that problem for her, stepping between the two of them and extending his hand to Killian. Emma had all but forgotten that he’d come with her.

“So,” he said, using what could only be called his Protective Big Brother voice, “you’re the British guy.”

“Seriously?!” Emma hissed loud enough for only him to hear as Killian accepted the handshake.

“Aye. And you must be David.”

Her brother looked taken aback. He must have been under the impression Killian had no idea he existed. “Uh, yeah. Emma’s mentioned me then?”

“Oh, yes, several times. She tells me you’re quite the Orioles fan.”

Uh oh. This had the potential to be a recipe for disaster. David did not take comments about his notoriously terrible favorite team lightly. If Killian made any patronizing remarks about the Orioles, any chance at getting on her brother’s good side was doomed.

“I’ve caught highlights from a few games online before,” Killian continued. “Always admired Ripken.”

Emma let out an audible sigh of relief. Killian may very well have been lying through his teeth to appease David, but at least he’d avoided making a bad first impression. “Yes, well,” she butted in, “David’s just here for the ride. We’re dropping him off back at his apartment on our way.” She shot her brother a look that told him not to argue.

The first few minutes in the car were filled with awkward silence as Killian fidgeted in his seat, clearly used to a steering wheel in front of him on the right side, while she tried to ignore David’s presence in the back.

“How was your flight?” she asked after a moment as they headed in the direction of David and Mary Margaret’s building.

“All right. Bit of turbulence, but nothing terrible. The airplane food, on the other hand.” Emma saw him cringe out of the corner of her eye and tried not to laugh. “I’ll be more than happy to see what restaurants you have to recommend in the city.”

“Anything particular you’re up for? Most places aren’t gonna be busy at this time of day. And no, he’s not coming,” she added, glaring at David in the rearview mirror before he had a chance to chime in.

Killian pursed his lips. “Eh, would you judge me if I said I just wanted a good, American cheeseburger?”

She laughed. “That was the last thing I expected. But no judgment here, Tony Stark.”

“I’m perfectly fine with that comparison.” He grinned. “Genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist…”

“I’m sorry, playboy?” David questioned. Someone didn’t know his movie references.

They arrived in front of David’s building minutes later. “Okay, here we are, you’re welcome for the ride home, talk to you later, bye.” Emma must have gotten her point across since he got out of the car with no objection other than a shake of his head.

“I’m really sorry about that.” She glanced at Killian apologetically as she pulled back out into traffic. “I didn’t know he was going to show up and insist on coming with me, or I would have warned you.”

“It’s quite alright, Swan. He was just looking out for you. If I’m being truthful, not wanting you to be alone when you met someone you’d come across online isn’t an unreasonable request.”

“I totally get that to a certain extent, but I know you well enough to trust that you’re not, like, a serial killer. Unless you have something you wanna tell me.”

He barked out a laugh. “Rest assured, love, I have no blood on my hands. At least, none but my brother’s when we were lads.”

“Let me guess, it was always Liam who started it?”

“Sure. We’ll go with that.”

Traffic was light at that point in the afternoon, the two of them arriving at Emma’s chosen destination sooner than she was expecting. “This place might not look like much,” she told him as she pulled into a parking spot in front of Granny’s, “but she’s got the best burgers and fries, excuse me, chips, in town as far as I’m concerned.”

“And grilled cheese and onion rings as well, I presume?”

“You’re a smart man, Killian.”

The diner was fairly empty as well, just an older couple drinking milkshakes at the bar and a group of college students crowded around a table with a stack of textbooks.

“Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to sit?” she asked Killian.

“No. It’s your pick.”

They took a booth near the back of the diner. Emma handed him one of the plastic menus and flipped through one herself, even though her order had been virtually the same over the years. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt her to branch out a little more with her choices, even if it was just getting a burger or chicken club instead of a grilled cheese for once.

A waitress came to take their orders after a few minutes. Killian requested the cheeseburger he’d wanted with fries, the American term sounding foreign on his lips. She ordered the same.

“No grilled cheese and onion rings? Are we sure this is the real Emma Swan?” Killian asked, feigning concern.

She shrugged. “I’m trying to live a little. And for someone like me, that’s apparently as simple as ordering a burger. Or maybe you’re just a bad influence,” she teased.

“Oi! I wasn’t a bad influence when I helped you make cupcakes in your time of need.”

“Yeah, yeah, technicalities.”

There was a long pause as Emma tried to figure out what to say next. She wondered if Killian was having similar thoughts. This was an easier problem to remedy when they were texting or talking on the phone and she could turn the conversation to whatever show they were on at the time. Even still, there wasn’t the added component of having him across from her to sense any awkward tension between them.

Killian broke the ice. “I’ve been meaning to ask, Swan, have you ever seen One Day At a Time? Been seeing a lot about it online lately.”

“I haven’t actually.” She should have remembered most of their best conversations began with shows. “You know how I feel about good sitcoms though.”

“Aye. Perhaps we’ll add it to our unofficial to watch list?”

“I like the way you think, Jones.”

They talked for awhile about the season of Schitt’s Creek they were working on until the waitress brought their food a few minutes later. The conversation had somehow turned to which of Moira’s wigs would look best on him. It was hard not to laugh as Killian nearly swallowed his beloved cheeseburger whole.

“Don’t judge me,” he said through a mouthful of fries when he noticed Emma snickering. “I was bloody starving.”

“Clearly.” She dipped one of her own fries in the generous pile of ranch dressing on the side of her plate. “Otherwise you wouldn’t have so easily done away with all that English charm us Americans aren’t civilized enough to have.”

“What do you mean ‘done away with’? I’ll have you know I’m always charming, love.”

“Says the man who has ketchup on his chin.”

Killian’s face reddened as he grabbed a napkin and wiped off said ketchup. It was barely enough to be noticeable, but she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity to tease him a bit.

As they ate, the conversation shifted from shows to Killian’s work and what he’d be doing in Boston over the next few days. She didn’t know much about his job, other than that he worked for Liam and their company provided parts and equipment for ships. While the company’s primary clientele was located in the London area near their home office, they were looking to expand to other areas as well, hence the meetings Killian had flown over to attend.

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but why were you the one to make the trip instead of Liam?” she asked. “I don’t really know how a lot of business procedures work, but it seems like he would be the one to handle stuff like that considering he’s over everyone else.”

“Aye, you would think so. But the truth of the matter is, Liam’s tied up with so much within our office. Not to mention he doesn’t like making trips now since he’s got Belle and the kids. From both of those angles, it makes more sense for me to handle as much of the international business as I’m qualified for since I truly have nothing tying me down in London nowadays.”

Emma hated the way her heart skipped a beat at his words. If he had nothing tying him down at home, did that also mean there was no girlfriend there too?

(Could she ask him something like that without him seeing right through her?)

“That’s, uh, great,” she told him, trying to get back to the point of the conversation. “That you’re able to travel for him. I’m sure you get a lot of cool opportunities and stuff.”

“Opportunities like getting to eat an American cheeseburger while I have a face to face conversation about sitcoms?”

“Exactly.”

Killian asked a handful of questions about her job, how she liked her boss and coworkers, if she’d dealt with any major cases lately.

“Not really. It’s mostly the usuals, cheating husbands and deadbeat parents.”

He frowned. “Pity situations like those occur enough to be ‘usuals.’”

“It’s enough to make me want to throw in the towel sometimes if I’m being honest. These people are lucky enough to have a family in the first place, and they just throw it to the side like it means nothing to them.”

Emma didn’t realized what she’d said until it was too late. While she’d become comfortable enough with Killian to share certain details about her personal life over the past few months, her upbringing in foster care was the one subject she’d avoided. She’d heard stories of his and Liam’s upbringing by their single mother, who died when Killian was in college. The only family she’d ever mentioned to him was David, and he didn’t even know they weren’t actually siblings.

But that wasn’t a conversation she wanted to have at Granny’s in the middle of the afternoon. She wasn’t sure how much time he had free to spend with her, or when she would see him again. If you even will, she thought.

Sensing her discomfort, Killian reached across the table and gave her hand a squeeze. “Is everything alright, love?”

The feeling of his hand in her own stopped Emma’s train of thought. She almost hated how comforting it was. “Yeah, it’s nothing.” She gave what she hoped looked like a genuine smile. There was no need to waste her time with him focusing on bad memories. “What do you say we pay the bill and go do some sight seeing? Boston isn’t New York or LA, but it can be fun. I think so anyway.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.”

They bickered at the cash register over who was going to pay. Killian wanted to be a gentleman, Emma wanted him to feel like her guest in some way. She somehow won. “You can buy me a bear claw at my favorite bakery later if you really want to,” she told him as she swiped her debit card through the reader and he stood to the side pouting.

She and Killian were heading for the door when a familiar face entered the diner. The sight of Ruby made Emma consider grabbing Killian and hiding him.

“Emma!” Her friends’ eyes lit up when she spotted them, red lips breaking out into a grin.

“Hey, Rubes. I didn’t think you were working today.” She would have taken Killian to eat somewhere else otherwise. Emma loved her friend, but something told her Ruby would have less of a filter than usual around him.

“I wasn’t, but Ashley had a doctors’ appointment and asked me to cover her shift.” She glanced around Emma to get a look at Killian. “Oh, is this the English guy? You didn’t tell me he was hot.”

The urge to crawl under the nearest table was tempting. “Uh, yeah,” she said, her face reddening, even more so when she realized it sounded like she was agreeing with Ruby’s comment. She turned to Killian. “This is my friend, Ruby. Granny’s is, well, her grandmother’s.”

Ruby held her hand out to him. “It’s so nice to put a face with the name. Emma talks about you all the time.”

Emma shot her a death stare as Killian accepted the handshake and brought her hand to his lips. “It’s a pleasure, love. I’ve heard quite a bit about you as well.”

“Such a charmer.” Ruby’s grin widened. “I love it.”

“Yeah, well, we were just leaving, and I know you have to get to work.” She grabbed Killian’s hand and pulled him out the door before Ruby had another chance to embarrass her. “Bye!”

Emma groaned as soon as the door to Granny’s had shut behind her. “I’m sorry about that. She means well, but she tends to come off a bit strong.”

“No worries, Swan. I can’t say I have many objections with a woman who so freely acknowledges my good looks.” He smirked, and she couldn’t help but think how much she wanted to kiss the smile off of his face.

Which she wasn’t going to do. Because that would be ridiculous. “Yeah, I’m never gonna let her live that down.”

She moved her car to a free public lot and spent the next hour with Killian, walking around downtown Boston to show him some of her favorite spots in the area. She pointed out the precinct where she often dropped off bail jumpers, the library, her favorite coffee shop, and the bakery that made the best bear claws in town.

“You can definitely return the favor from lunch now,” Emma told him when they entered the shop and she caught a whiff of something that smelled like butter and cinnamon.

“Whatever the lady wishes.”

“The lady definitely wishes for a bear claw. Or five.”

In the end she requested one, although Killian told the attendant to add another to her bag. “In case you’d like one for the weekend and don’t feel like making the trip.”

“Bold of you to assume I’ll let it go uneaten for that long.”

They sat at a bench outside the bakery since the weather was nice. Mid September in Boston was often ideal since it was still warm without being unbearably hot. Emma took one of her bear claws out of the paper bag and bit into it, letting the warm dough melt in her mouth. “You don’t know what you’re missing,” she told Killian, who had started eating his blueberry scone.

“I’ll take your word for it, Swan. You know I’m not fond of raisins.”

“Whatever.” She feigned disappointment. “More for me.”

It occurred to Emma that she had yet to ask another important question. She had no idea how long he would be in Boston, and if she would get to see him again after today. Killian had mentioned in previous conversations that he had a handful of meetings over the following two days, but nothing about what his schedule looked like or when he would be flying back.

Killian picked up on her unspoken apprehension. “What’s going on in that head of yours, love?”

She shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. Hadn’t she decided she wasn’t going to waste time worrying while he was there? “It’s nothing,” she insisted again. Killian’s expression suggested he didn’t believe her, but he didn’t press the issue.

“Did I tell you my nephew is into Peppa Pig now?” she asked, knowing he might like this change of subject. “He’s, like, fascinated with the British accents and tries to talk like the characters all the time now. It’s hilarious.”

His eyes lit up. “Is that so? I like this lad already. Although I do prefer Percy Pigs myself. It’s a type of candy,” he explained when her eyebrows shot up. A quick Google search provided a photo of what he was referring to, which was, as suggested, a gummy in the shape of a pig’s head.

It was weird, if she was being frankly honest, but Leo would love them. “Kid’s definitely getting an order of these for his next birthday.”

Emma finished her bear claw and wiped her mouth with a napkin from the bakery. But she must have not done an adequate job. Killian leaned over. “You missed a spot, love,” he said, brushing his thumb at the corner of her mouth. Any reply she had was forgotten with the gesture as she became hyper focused on the brief but startling feeling of his touch.

“Uh, thanks.” The words came out raspy and uneven.

Her reaction seemed to make Killian realize what he’d done. “Apologies, Swan. I wasn’t thinking.”

She couldn’t stop herself from blurting out the question that followed. “What are we doing here, Killian?”

#cs ff #cs au #captain swan #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan fanfiction #cs mc ff #meredith writes

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lipstickbisous · 5 years

Text

period┃j.m.r.f

this is copy and pasted from my wattpad, whoops. i’m currently listening to ‘bad guy’ on repeat because i am making an imagine based off of that song.

summary; you accidentally leak on jonah’s sheets one night and, although it’s not your fault, all you can do is apologize.

warnings? fluff, not very original of me, maybe cursing

request? no

tags? @splendidseavey @kvd963 @myheartswdw @fallingforbesson @technolilly @ijustreallylovethem @tempus-ut-luceant @maraiseavey @coolkidcorbyn

you hadn't had the best day, but it wasn't your worst, that's for sure.

you did spend the entire day alone. your boyfriend, jonah, was out with his bandmates at the studio. so, for eight hours, you remained inside the why don't we house watching netflix, eating food, and surfing the internet.

you hadn't really felt that well when you woke up that morning, but it wasn't anything serious. just a small pain in your stomach for an hour and a half or so, and then it went away, so you brushed it off like it was nothing.

but you had started to grow impatient. you hated spending an entire day alone. you loved jonah with all your heart, and all you wanted to do was cuddle and watch movies with him. but he was living his dream. he had achieved everything he could've thought of when he was little and he became very successful with his band. of course, you were proud of him, but there were certain times when you wanted jonah all to yourself.

but you waited. you waited for eight hours for jonah to come home. and as you sat on the couch in the living room, binge-watching parks and recreation, you heard the doorknob turn and unlock, the large wooden barrier opening. you jumped up from the couch and were greeted by jonah with the largest smile on his face, the boys just behind him.

you ran up to him and jumped slightly just so he could catch you. your arms were wrapped around his neck, your legs around his torso. he kissed your temple and remained to hug you. you heard the boys cooing about the two of you in the background. you rolled your eyes and stood back up on your feet.

"i missed you, baby," he said, hugging you again.

although it had been eight hours, it felt like it had been a whole month. you two couldn't even eat a meal without each other. "i missed you too." you smiled into his chest.

the rest of the night continued as you wanted it. it was just you and jonah, the boys understood and left the two of you alone. you remained up in jonah's room for the night watching movies on his computer. occasionally, you would text corbyn or jonah would text daniel to bring up some food since you were both too lazy to go downstairs and get it yourselves.

in the middle of death note, you fell asleep. when the movie finished, jonah did the same.

»«

you squinted as you slowly opened your eyes. it was still dark in the room. you looked over at your clock that illuminated the room, its bright numbers reading "2:27 am". you groaned as you always hated when your body naturally woke up early. you could never get back to sleep.

jonah's arm was wrapped around your waist, making you feel safe and protected. but you knew you wouldn't fall asleep unless you got something to drink. so as much you didn't want to, you gently lifted jonah's arm from your body and slipped out from your shared bed.

you tip-toed down that stairs, careful not to wake any of the boys up. you had a slight idea of what was going on, but it wasn't due until the next week. you assumed you just had a small stomach bug and it was no problem.

you grabbed a small cup from the cabinets and poured yourself a glass of water. you slowly drank it until there was no more left. your body ached for more to drink, so you poured yourself another glass. but this time, you wanted something sweet. or something salty. you couldn't decide. you convinced yourself to be scandalous and grab a piece of chocolate that jack hid from the rest of the group.

as you quietly reached for the bag of chocolate candies, you heard light footsteps treading on the floor, making their way to the kitchen. you gasped and quickly put the candy bag back and closed the cabinet door. you turned around and saw jonah. he looked extremely tired, but it was adorable. he rubbed his left eye and sighed.

"oh," he chuckled. "there you are." he walked over to you and stood behind you. the beautiful boy wrapped his arms around your waist and placed his head in the crook of your neck, closing his eyes once again. you slightly rocked the both of you.

"falling asleep again, huh?" you chuckled.

"i was asleep," his voice was raspy and it made your heart flutter. "but then i woke up and you weren't there. i got scared for a second but i realized the door was open and, well, you don't like to leave the door open when you sleep because it scares you and i heard the sink in the kitchen running."

you smiled warmly and placed your hands on his forearms. jonah had known you since the two of you were in seventh grade. you were really good friends until tenth grade when kyle denholm asked you out and you said yes. you two grew distant and you didn't like that. during graduation, jonah admitted his feelings to you and you admitted your feelings to him. you broke up with kyle and started dating jonah. but you didn't mind. jonah knew you better than he knew the back of his hand.

"we should get back to bed," you told him. you heard him mutter in agreement and kiss your cheek. he let go of you and led the way back to his room. as you followed him, you couldn't help but get a weird feeling that something was going to happen. and you realized it all too late.

you saw jonah standing in the doorway, the light in his room turned on. he didn't move. he didn't have any expression on his face. you quickly walked into the room until you saw what jonah was staring at. you gasped loudly, your eyes wide open.

it was completely visible. on the right side of the bed, the side that you slept on, was a large, red spot. it was stained on your boyfriend's white sheets. you quickly ran to the bathroom and slipped off the pajama shorts you were wearing. sure enough, there was a red stain on them too. you closed the toilet lid and sat down. your elbows rested on your knees as you held your head in your hands. you sighed and returned the bedroom to put your shorts in the laundry.

when you entered your bedroom again, you noticed jonah was now leaning against the doorway, looking at the ground.

"jonah?" you asked. your voice was small. you were scared. would he be mad? would he yell?

jonah didn't look at you. he didn't even grunt in response. he walked over to the bed and threw the comforter and pillows from the furniture. you remained standing at the doorway, not knowing what to do. jonah pulled the sheets off from the bed, leaving the mattress bare. he made a pile of the dirty laundry and put your shorts with them as well. you watched him carry the laundry downstairs to wash it. you tried to say something, but nothing could come out of your throat.

after a few minutes, jonah returned back to the bedroom. he had the same blank expression on his face, and quite honestly, it scared you. jonah went to his closet and grabbed a fresh set of sheets.

"jonah," you said, this time a bit louder. he looked over to you. you suddenly felt nervous and didn't know what to say. "i'm sorry. i didn't mean to, i-i should've been more careful. it's my fault, i'm sorry," jonah stood back up and looked at you with the same goddamn expression. "are you mad?" you asked timidly.

instantly, jonah's face softened. he looked at you with comforting and sympathetic eyes. "(y/n), beautiful," he said, slightly smiling. "why would i be mad at you?"

"well, i got blood all over your sheets," you said. you felt a bit embarrassed for asking while you felt like it was the right thing to do. "it's disgusting, i know, i'm sorry. i should've paid more attention to when i was due, i thought it was next week, but i guess i was wrong. i'm sorry, jonah."

"(y/n)," jonah said, sighing lightly. "listen to me right now. there's nothing to be sorry for. you have nothing to be sorry for. this isn't your fault, why would you think that? every single woman on this planet goes through this, it's okay. i understand it's an accident. accidents happen, it's perfectly fine. and you know what? they're just sheets. they're just sheets that can be washed. and if i can't get the stain out, that's perfectly fine. i have, like, a dozen more in my closet. i'll just use those. but you don't have to be sorry for anything. i hate that you have to go through this every month of your life until you're fifty. it sucks and it's unfair. i'm sorry. but this," jonah pointed to the bed. "is not your fault."

you still stood near the doorway. you smiled a small smile to jonah. he walked over to you and pulled you closer to him. you breathed lightly, feeling his heartbeat match yours.

"come on," he said, walking to the bathroom. "i'll run you a bath, i'll go out to the store and get some stuff for you, and when i come back, we can do whatever you want."

you smiled. "okay." you said, following him.

(a/n) i hate this one so much.

#why don't we #why don't we imagines #jonah marais #jack avery #corbyn besson #zach herron #daniel seavey #jonah marais imagines #imagines #fluff

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 6 years

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last paragraph challenge

@tomasortega tagged me (thank u!). I’ve been working on this insanely slowly because I cannot for the life of me remember where I originally wanted to end up with it

(it’s only March 11th but it feels so, so much later in the year. why aren’t we in 2020 yet? anyhoo)

tagging @beanarie, @fand0mfan, @stele3 (if they haven’t already been tagged?), and anyone else who’d like to do this :))

"You would have died," Madi said matter-of-factly into the crisp night air.

Flint paused, his hands on the handle of the ax. "Beg pardon?" He let the ax head drop to the ground and waited.

She wasn't looking at him, but studying the sky, where clouds were beginning to shift away. Her profile seemed nearly too perfect to have been drawn by an indifferent, accidental hand; she was luminous, lit as if from within instead of from the dim light falling through the nearby windowpane.

"We would have had our war, had John really been dead." She looked at him then, and rubbed her arms to ward off a chill. "Our success was never assured, but one outcome or another, it would have killed you. Towards the end, perhaps. You would have swung around too slowly to block the sword, or stumbled in the lunge. Had canons taken the ship, you'd have gone down with her, like a stone, without struggling. Perhaps some part of your rage would've been slaked; either way, you would not have minded to perish at all, because he was gone." She paused. "You thought then, for a time, they were both gone."

In truth, what Flint remembered most of the time they had believed Silver drowned was a feeling, hollow, airless pain spreading in him like ice crawling across a surface of water; and a distant knowledge that he eventually would be trapped beneath. It had caused him no particular distress, Madi was correct. Flint had had no interest, not really, in surviving their war. He had cared only that England burned until there was nothing left but blackened earth, charred bone.

But Silver had not drowned. Alive, Silver ran directly to Madi. Flint stayed exactly where he was and let him. And the war, in the end, would not survive Silver. Some days Flint still hadn't forgiven Silver for that.

Most days, though...

Flint toed a piece of split wood at his feet. "Is there a reason you're bringing this up?" No use denying what Madi said, though he was genuinely curious as to why she spoke of it now.

She walked down the few steps into the yard and came to the woodpile he had been about to start increasing the size of. She hefted up a log the size of a small dog as she approached him. "You would have done your best, I believe. With our war." She stood in front of him and tipped her head. The weight of the log seemed no bother. "I have found it useful, however, with the advantage of some distance, to see the larger picture of our collective past."

"And what does that show you?" Flint asked, worrying the upright ax handle between two fingers.

"I used to think he was being deliberately obtuse about you." Madi pushed the log into his arms; he let the ax handle fall away. "But you never told him how you felt, not really, so it is not such a wonder he drew incorrect, or at least incomplete, conclusions from your actions."

A trickle of sweat somehow lolled its way between Flint's shoulder blades. "Why n--"

"You have no reason to avoid him just because I am here for a few days." Madi dusted her hands of wood shavings. "And he has no reason to avoid you."

Flint swallowed. "We're not avoiding--"

"Then go talk to him for a bit." Madi turned and headed for his and Thomas's side of the house, where Thomas was presumably cooking enough food for everyone.

Flint left the ax in the yard and went inside the house's other kitchen. Silver was squinting at a map laid out on the table. When he looked up and saw Flint, his eyes widened, shy and pleased in his otherwise neutral expression.

"Nice log," he told Flint.

#snippetfic #even more snippety than usual #black sails #silverflint #fic

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spongeekat · 6 years

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The 6 Times Peter Wanted To Reveal his Identity (And the 1 Time He Did) Chapter 1

Chapters: 1/7 Fandom: Spider-Man - All Media Types , Deadpool - All Media Types , Marvel Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Peter Parker/Wade Wilson Characters: Peter Parker, Wade Wilson, Mary Jane Watson, Eleanor Camacho Additional Tags: Spideypool Big Bang 2018 , Prompt Fill , Peter Parker Needs a Hug , Deadpool has a daughter , Hurt/Comfort , Peter has anxiety , Anxiety Attacks , Secret Identity , Identity Reveal , Peter chasing Wade Summary:

Peter is madly in love with Wade, and plans to meet him on top of his apartment building to reveal his identity. Wade thinks Peter is standing on the ledge ready to jump, and takes it upon himself to make sure he gets home safe and finds a reason to live again.

read on ao3

Masterlist Here

I’ve been sick this week and fell asleep at like 5 PM yesterday so I never got to submit my part for the Spideypool Big Bang 2018 hosted by @spideypoolfanfic This was my first bang and it was super well organized and super fun!

HUGE THANK YOU to my patient ass beta @alurkerofnote who’s offered a LOT of help.

This is gonna be in 7 parts, 1 chapter equaling 1 day!

My prompts were 50 and 53; Secret Identities- Wade finds Peter on a roof and panics. It looks like that kid is about to jump.

Peter is waiting for Deadpool to confess who he is. He’s so deeply in love that it both hurts and annoys him. He wants to come clean. So why does Deadpool freak out when he sees him?

If Peter actually has the guts to reveal his identity- he isn’t sure.

After a big fight in NYC, Spider-Man swings away and hides himself in a treehouse in a small garden. Ellie finds spider-Man crying his heart and soul out in her fortress.

But seriously, he’s just one spider and has worries too!

Januarys in the Bronx were some of Peter’s least favorite parts of the year. It was common knowledge that winters weren’t completely erratic in New York, though they couldn’t be described as tame either. They resided in a gray-area between, in which snow could unpredictably monopolize city blocks on any given day, yet a few layers of clothing would typically suffice for warmth when navigating the city. Still, the chill had a vicious bite to it, and it wasn’t wise to wander the streets longer than needed.

Especially not when suspended 44 feet above the street, clad only in a hasty assemblage of light winter clothes.

Yet, that’s what Peter was currently dressed in; a beanie thrown over his curly hair that would normally be standing every which way it pleased, a light hoodie that had been crumpled underneath textbooks in his backpack for hours, and a pair of worn-out jeans that had seen better days. It was a poor excuse for an outfit considering the length of time Peter had been standing on the roof of this building, and by all means of the word he was completely frozen. Still, the nip of the night wasn’t the most pressing issue on his mind at the moment.

Peter’s eyes searched the darkened alley below his feet for any sign that he should abandon his current plans and instead send himself flying back towards his meager Queens apartment twenty minutes away. An hour of of looking for a reason to leave had proven no such luck, and the 22 year old was stuck waiting to freeze to death, or for his guest of the hour to show up. Whichever happened first. He hoped he would freeze to death sooner, to save himself the horrible embarrassment he was about to go through, but his radioactive blood and slow- but present-healing factor assured that wouldn’t be happening. Instead, he was running through dialogues and scenarios in his head, hoping one would sound the most promising and he could stick with it.

“Hey, dude, it’s me!” The corner of Peter’s lips drew up in a theatrical style, and he beamed off into the empty night as if he was conversing with someone else standing right in front of him. “I know this isn’t really what you expected, but I hope that… that you… that... stupid. This is stupid. I’m stupid.” Peter’s shoulders sagged once again, and he toed a pebble until it tumbled off the ledge he was pacing on, clattering onto the fire escape below. This is a stupid plan.

The very affordable apartment building below him was quiet, and the particular apartment he had been staking out was empty. Wade wasn’t inside, likely off on one of his ethically-questionable jobs, but he would probably be back soon. He and Peter always met up sometime between 1 and 3 AM when their schedules allowed, and it was Sunday, which meant Wade was gonna come back toting fast food for the two to munch on. He was expecting Spider-Man, which would certainly put a damper on their late-night snacking, but hopefully things would go smoother than Peter feared they would go. After all, Peter was finally going to reveal his face to Wade.

It wasn’t a hasty decision. Really, Peter had been considering taking this step for years. The two had been acquaintances for 6 years, meeting just a year after the Spider had gained his super powers and taken on his hero persona. It was a terrible first meeting, and their encounters afterwards had been even more so. Somehow, between the nights of Wade annoying Peter for hours on end, accidental team ups that led to purposeful team ups, and laughter once the mercenary had learned exactly how to prod at Peter’s similarly immature sense of humor, they had become friends, and had grown close over the last 4 years. And of that time, Peter had been completely and pathetically in love with Wade for 2 years.

Wade didn’t know, of course. The only person that did was Mary Jane, after Peter ranted about his frustration with the stagnant nature of their relationship during a drunk stupor. But she was the only person Peter had told. Confessing his feelings to Wade was out of the question. He had grown comfortable with the weird relationship that had formed between them over the time they’d spent together. They spent nearly all of their free time together, whether it was fighting on patrol or Peter accompanying Wade on missions to hold him to the ‘no-killing’ promise the ex-mercenary had made. Once patrols were done, they typically retired to a roof top to spend the night munching on late-night fast food, or to Wade’s apartment to play games and deal with open wounds that needed stitching. Wade never pushed to see Peter’s face or know his name, even if Wade hadn’t been very secretive with his own identity. But Peter knew that, no matter how close Spider-Man and Deadpool grew as friends, their relationship would never grow intimate unless Wade got to know the man behind the mask first. .

So there Peter was, anxiety bubbling hot on the surface of his skin, as he wrung his hands and tried to plan how exactly he would come out and admit he was Spider-Man.

Maybe he could do a flip iconic to Spider-Man and let Wade make his own inferences? Wade seemed to be the type to enjoy dramatic stunts. Or maybe he could introduce himself in a method similar to Tony Stark. Peter Parker: Awkward, Intelligent, Poor College Student, and Spider-Man. No, that was lamer than any of his other plans. This would be easier if he had just worn his suit and ripped off his mask, but he knew that if he had, he would have lost his nerve upon seeing him and never gone through with the reveal. He stepped up onto the ledge of the roof and looked down into the dark with a frown. His backpack containing his suit was webbed to the wall feet under him. Maybe he could just open the bag and show Wade what was inside…?

Peter didn’t have much time to decide, as a soft rattle against the brick wall opposite of him drew his attention. Leather boots were scuffling up the rungs of the ladder leading up, and Peter had to make up his mind quick. He closed his eyes and balanced on the ledge under his feet, steadying his frayed nerves. Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad. Wade was understanding. Wade was kind. But maybe he didn’t want to know Peter’s identity? Maybe he never pushed so he wouldn’t be disappointed by the face under the mask? God, what if Wade turned and walked completely out of his life once he realized Spider-Man was a puny science nerd? The possibilities were firing off in his head, growing more intense every inch Wade grew closer. Maybe he should just jump down into the alley and take off running, and abandon this idea that somehow this would lead to something more between them. Peter didn’t even know if Wade returned his feelings.

“Don’t do it.”

Wade was a few feet behind Peter, and he felt a shiver run down his spine. His voice was lower than Peter remembered, and a bit more serious. It jarred Peter enough that he turned back to look at him, still perched on the raised borders of the roof. There he stood in his red-and-black glory, his body language tenser than normal. Peter’s mouth was too dry to talk now, panic radiating through his body in waves. He hadn’t come up with a proper plan for this conversation, and he suddenly didn’t know how to start it. His lips parted to say Wade’s name, confused by the aggressive demeanor, but the syllables died on his tongue.

Wade took a few steps that seemed almost hesitant towards Peter, reaching out a large gloved hand in his direction. Did he already know? He sure was acting weird, especially considering everything Wade did was weird. Instinctively Peter reeled back, one foot skidding against the concrete as he inched closer to the edge, the cold winter wind now flowing up through his hair.

“Uh…” Peter replied intelligently, eyes darting anywhere but that intimidating mask staring directly at him.

“Come down from there.” Wade’s hand was a few inches in front of Peter now, close enough he could comfortably reach out and grab it if he wished. And boy did he want to, but he was much too nervous and befuddled to take such a brash action. Peter was sure there was no way Wade didn’t know at this point. Why would he be acting so casual? “Trust me, things can’t be that bad. I’ve been through shit, too. But you don’t want to become another statistic.”

“What?” Now Peter was definitely lost.

“Come on.” Wade prompted again, sticking his hand so close it nearly bumped into Peter’s chest. “Not tonight. Just get down from the ledge.”

Confusion clearly etched across his expression, Peter stepped around Wade’s hand and made the jump to land on the roof. There was an audible breath of relief from behind Wade’s mask when his feet connected with the gravel. His body language seemed to loosen up, and he plopped down to sit on the ledge where Peter’s feet just were. “What’s your name?”

“P-Peter?”

“Peter.” Wade repeated back, as if he somehow could have heard the wrong thing. “That’s kinda nerdy.”

“Nerdy?” Peter said defensively, embarrassment flushing red over his frozen cheeks, darkening them further.

“Yep. I think the last Peter I met was like 50 years old.” Wade continued on, humor splaying out in every word, though Peter wasn’t laughing. “That’s like a lock-you-in-the-gym-closet kind of a name.”

“Uh-Huh. Did you just come here to make fun of my name?” Normally, Peter wouldn’t mind the teasing that Wade often times didn’t mean. But tonight, when his anxiety was so high and he had absolutely no idea what was going on, he wasn’t in the mood to get made fun of.

“No, no, of course not.” Wade was standing, now inches taller than Peter, and he took a few calm steps in his direction. “Look, I’m just a Deadpool. I know I’m not Dr. Phil. But I couldn’t just let you make some bad decision and let the world lose one more hot piece of ass.” Wade paused, groaning as if he was being scolded by himself, before he continued. “Yeah, fuck, sorry, bad timing. Anyways, I live in the area and saw you standing on the ledge, and I thought I could maybe talk you down. Dying hurts, in case you were wondering. It’s not worth it.”

Dying...hurts? Talk him down? Bad decision?

Oh.

“ Oh.” Everything suddenly connected and the gears started turning in Peter’s brain, followed by a bubbling panic rising up from the pits of his stomach. “No, wait, I wasn’t…” He didn’t quite know how to explain he wasn’t there to do that without completely explaining why he was up there in the first place. Any resolve he may have had earlier about revealing his superpowered persona had melted away, his plans going awry within seconds.

“Hey, I’m not judging you.” Wade insisted, taking another step closer to Peter, almost testingly, to see if he would run away. He didn’t even budge. “You’re, what, 21? In college? Living in New York? This shitty city is expensive, and paying for it all can get really overwhelming. Something happen? Parents divorce? Girlfriend left you? She’s pregnant and left you for another guy? Killing yourself seems like the only option to get back at her?”

Peter gave a weak shake of his head, finding his throat suddenly desert dry. He didn’t have time to come up with an excuse. He felt like he was barely bobbing above water. “No I…” What was he doing? “I just have...a big decision to make. You know?”

Wade gave a sympathetic nod, and moved his hand to start rubbing comforting circles into Peter’s shoulder. He could feel the steady hammer of his heart against his chest, the beat picking up nervously with Wade this close to him, staring at him. Not the mask, not Spider-Man, but Peter Parker. “Can I take you to a hospital?” He asked in a softer voice, which didn’t seem entirely possible for Wade to do. “Like I said, I’m not a therapist, but they can help you way better than the voices in my head can.”

“Hospit...Oh, no no no.” Peter held up his hands in a surrender and backed away from Wade’s grasp once more, the spot on his shoulder feeling much colder without his hand there. “No, I’m feeling a lot better. I swear. I can go home alone.”

“Do you live with anyone? Parents? Roommates?” Wade continued to press the subject, and Peter took another step back with each word, feeling smothered.

“I live with my Aunt.” Peter admitted, unsure why he was having the sudden spurt of bravery to say that even if he couldn’t tell the truth about what he’d originally come here to say. “But she’s out of the country. I’ll be okay.”

“Sorry, but I think I would kick my own ass if I let you leave alone and you put a bullet in your mouth.” Wade pulled his phone out of some pocket tucked who-knows-where on his suit, starting to type away the best he could through thick leather gloves. “Plus, I’ve gotten really into that astrological sign reading shit, and my horoscope said that today I was supposed to take action when I see things going bad. So I’m gonna take that to mean I’m your guardian angel.”

“Guardian angel?” Peter quirked an eyebrow, trying to keep the conversation from delving into an uncomfortable seriousness.

“Mhm. So my first act of Guardian Angel Goodness is to make sure you get home safe.” Wade raised the cell to his ear, the sight almost comical next to his animated mask. “Luckily, I’ve got the cutest cabbie in all of New York on speed dial. You’ll love him.”

Okay, so Peter had definitely been ready to lay it all out on the line for Wade a few minutes ago, but now everything felt like it was moving too fast. He planned to show Wade where he lived in a few weeks or months, not within minutes. But somehow, he didn’t think he’d take no for an answer right now, so Peter decided he’d have to play along. Just for now, until he found a good moment to interject and tell Wade the truth. His floundering confidence was making that difficult, however.

While Peter was lost in his thoughts, Wade had finished his conversation with whoever was on the other end of the line, and had gathered himself enough that he was tugging on Peter’s arm. “Ready?”

“Uhhh….” Peter’s eyes trailed up to Wade’s mask, his nerves firing off as the skin he touched seemed hotter than normal. “I’ll meet you down there.”

“Please don’t tell me I already fucked this up and you’re ready to take a nose-dive into the alley.” Wade groaned, his hand squeezing just a little tighter on Peter’s arm, making a shiver run up his spine.

“No, I just need to think for a second.” Wade didn’t respond, and Peter could practically see him thinking the worst. “I won’t jump. I promise, dude.”

“Okaaaaay.” Wade headed towards the fire escape from where he had first come, stooping to grab the bag of food on his way. “Just know I live around this shit hole, and your body won’t get cleaned up for like a week. I don’t really wanna smell rotten flesh around here every day.”

“Has anyone ever told you how sensitive you are?” Peter murmured.

Wade’s laugh that followed made Peter’s heart leap in his chest, but he kept a cool face. “It’s a special talent of mine.” He teased, before he slid down the ladder and disappeared in the dark.

Alone, Peter slipped to his knees, palming the darkened side of the building until his fingers brushed against the canvas of his backpack. He ripped it free of the webs, double checked that his suit was still inside, and slung it over his back. Before he headed down, however, he had to focus on pacifying his erratic heartbeat.

Disappointment was evident in his mind, in both himself, and the way the situation had played out. He’d been picturing and planning for this moment- albeit not well - for close to a year. He may have lost his resolve within seconds of seeing Wade, but there was no way he was going to let himself keep this up.

Peter had very strong feelings for Wade, beyond a stupid puppy crush, and he hoped the other maybe felt the same. He knew he had to take this step, whether it went as smoothly as he dreamed out or not, and there was no use in pretending any longer if he wanted to have a chance of progressing their relationship. .

When Peter got to the bottom rung of the ladder, however, and saw Wade holding the door to the cab open for him like the most unconventional disney prince ever, he decided it would be better to do it in a more private area, so he gave the driver his address and climbed onto the torn up upholstery.

…..

Wade, who lived in an absolute wreck of a safehouse, was unfairly unimpressed with Peter’s apartment.

It was messy, sure, but it wasn’t horrible. The dishes were only sort of piled up in the sink, and his dirty laundry was sitting in a heap in front of the TV, but with Aunt May gone Peter had had more time and freedom to be Spider-Man, and chores were the last obligation on his mind.

Not knowing this, of course, Wade made a disgusted noise as soon as they opened the door on the third story.

“What?” Peter asked self consciously, toeing off his shoes in the doorway as to not track in mud. At least he had one thing going for him. Wade didn’t seem the share the same sentiment, and he trudged right in in his dust-caked boots.

“No wonder you’re depressed. You live only slightly better than me.” Wade snorted, his mask turning every which way as he took in the plain furnishings of the living room. His thumb jut out towards the half-opened bedroom door. “This is your bedroom?”

“Yeaaah.” Peter trailed his gaze, trying to recall if he left anything incriminating on his floor. However, he definitely didn’t want images of Wade in his bedroom stuck in his head at night, so he didn’t invite him in.

Wade studied his face and walked over to Peter, gently pushing him until he fell back on his couch. “Sleeping in beds is overrated anyways. Besides, you can watch TV until I get this food reheated.” He glanced back at the screen and kicked the clothes out of the way, giving Peter a full view of it. “Blanket closet?”

“Next to the kitchen.” Peter frowned, shifting uncomfortably at the favors. “I-It’s really okay, you already helped me get home and-”

“Sssh. Just watch your show, Petey.” Wade said obnoxiously as he drug a fluffy comforter from the closet and dumped it on top of Peter’s lap. “Your microwave isn’t a disaster, too, is it?”

“Shut up. It’s fine.” Peter groaned and sunk into the comforter up to his chin. Being babied was really humiliating, but he was still working on a good time to interject his confession in a way that didn’t seem too forced.

There was a beeping indicating Wade was fiddling with his appliances in the kitchen, and Peter took the chance to close his eyes. “I’m Spider-Man.” He whispered to himself, his voice shakier and quieter with each syllable. “Surprise.”

“Hope you like Chinese.” Wade returned soon after with the bag of food, dropping the sides and silverware at Peter’s side before he handed him the foam take-out container. Peter gingerly accepted it, guilt pulling at his stomach. “I had a hot date tonight, but he didn’t show up. So you get to eat it instead.”

“I don’t wanna take y-”

“Eat it.” Wade crooned in a cartoony voice, and reached into his back pocket. He produced his phone again, tossing it at Peter, which he smoothly caught. “And give me your number.”

“Why?” Peter asked, nervous fingertips lingering over the touch screen.

“Because I’m trying to make a change in my life. I’m not the same man I was a year ago.” Wade paused, sinking down to sit on the coffee table across from Peter as it creaked under his weight. “Okay, maybe I am, but I wanna be more of a hero. And the only way I can do that is by saving people like Spider-Man would do. So I need your number, to make sure you text me at least once a day so I know you’re still alive.”

The mention of ‘Spider-Man’ had Peter’s fingers twitching again around the cracked phone case, but he couldn’t find the right way to voice his truth, so he stayed quiet instead. Hey, funny thing, that’s saving people like I would do.

“Type it.” Wade whispered in a dorky voice, pulling Peter back to the present moment. His hands moved on his own, and suddenly his actual number appeared on the phone log. There was another entry on the phone, under the name Spidey-Cakes with an eggplant emoji following. That was his burner number, luckily, with that cheap flip phone shoved somewhere in his room. Still, Wade being able to contact Peter at all hours of the day now was making him nervous. He would never catch a break.

Wade snatched the phone back with excitement after he verified Peter had, indeed, typed an actual phone number, and he plugged it into his contacts under some name Peter wasn’t aware of. He then shoved the smartphone back into his pocket, and placed one heavy hand on top of Peter’s shaking shoulder.

“I’m gonna leave because I know I’m worse company than Alec Baldwin and Adam Sandler combined, but don’t do anything drastic, okay?” Wade’s mask never changed, lifeless as always, but Peter could hear the warm smile in his voice. His heart rate picked up, the close proximity between them making his chest ache, but the fact that he hadn’t accomplished what he’d even stayed out to do was still weighing heavily in the air. He couldn’t leave off on this! He wasn’t a depressed teenager that needed babysitting. He was Spider-Man. He was Wade’s best friend. He was in love with him.

Before he knew it the mercenary was at the door, fiddling with the deadbolt to figure out how to lock it on his way out. Peter jumped, pushing the Chinese food and the blanket aside, shooting up to the flats of his feet with his eyes wide. “Deadpool.” He tried to sound firm, but his voice came out smaller than he had intended.

The mercenary looked up, finally managing to flip the deadbolt to lock so he could slam it shut behind him. “Yes, sweet pea?”

Peter’s jaw tightened, and he stood there blankly like an idiot for a solid 30 seconds. “I’m…” The words were caught in his lungs, feeling so incredibly foreign and heavy that he couldn’t get them out. He hadn’t told anyone, not even Aunt May, and Mary Jane had found out on her own. He didn’t exactly have practice with this.

“You’re…?”

Drawn back to reality as he realized he had been silent, Peter swallowed back his confession and slowly sunk back to the couch. “Thanks. For everything.” He murmured, dragging guilty eyes down to his hands.

Wade paused, then slowly crept out the door with a hop to his step. “No problem, baby boy. Stay safe. And make sure to text me tomorrow!”

The door closed hard behind Wade as he slammed it shut in an attempt to get the deadbolt to stay locked, and the silence settled over Peter like a heavy blanket. Suddenly he was alone, albeit with warm food at his side and comfortably tucked into the couch cushions. Wade was right; the idea of passing out in the living room instead of his bedroom seemed a little more enticing with every moment.

He drug the food Wade had brought him onto his lap and flipped on a cartoon. He was feeling a little tired, anyways, so patrol could wait an hour or two. The Chinese smelled amazing compared to the toaster waffles he’d been downing for days, and sleepiness hung over his eyelids.

Wade had been so incredibly sweet, Peter wasn’t sure what to do with the memory of it. Mixed emotions were plaguing his gut, but above all, it had reminded him of how intensely he had feelings for the man, and how badly he wanted to have a connection with him.

Tomorrow, he decided, he would find a way to tell him the truth.

For now, he was falling asleep to the lull of New York late night TV, the scent of Chow Mein wafting up to his nose, and the ghost of Wade’s voice calling him sweet pea playing hot in his mind.

#spideypool big bang 2018 #spideypoolfanfic #fanfic #spideypool #spiderman #deadpool

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winecatsandpizza · 6 years

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Accidental Extras

Title: Accidental Extras

Pairings: Misha x OFC Lilly, Jensen x OFC Nicole.

Tags: RPF, acting, slow burn

A/N: This is my first ever fanfic. Ever. I figure my first fanfic might as well be a Supernatural one.

Background: This fic is loosely based off of myself and my friend, @jessyackles Lilly and Nicole go on vacation and while they are there on vacation, they sign up to be extras in a T.V. show and the fun develops from there. This is set somewhere in season 4-6.

Chapter 1

Lilly was one of those women that you'd see anywhere. She was not excessively attractive to most people. She was average in height and overweight. She had a mediocre job and blended in pretty much everywhere she went. Sure, there were people that preferred curvier redheads with pale skin, freckles, and green eyes in their twenties; however, those were usually hard to find. Lilly was content with her life. She had a few close friends and not too much to stress over.

One of Lilly's best friends was Nicole. Nicole was outgoing and passionate about the things she enjoyed. One of her favorite things was the show Supernatural. Lilly had never seen the show before she introduced her to it. Nicole had seen every episode at least three times, that she would admit. Lilly was nowhere near seeing all the episodes, but she was making progress slowly but surely.

Both women had accumulated a nice amount of vacation time and had decided to take a vacation together. Neither of them had ever been to Canada before and they already had their passports, so it was decided to head north from their midwestern home. Lilly was looking forward to taking some much-needed R&R and doing some sightseeing. Nicole, however, had a completely different plan for them.

Their flight had gone smoothly, and they arrived at Vancouver International Airport excited to start their vacation. They reached their hotel, the Westin Grand, Vancouver. Lilly jumped and landed on the bed face down, spread eagle. Nicole laughed and did the same. "I can not wait to check out that pool tomorrow and drink fruity drinks in fancy glasses and tiny little umbrellas," Lilly explained to Nicole.

"Well, about that…" Nicole trailed off.

"What? Oh my god, please don't tell me that you signed us up for some hike at 8 in the morning. I know you love a fucking activity, but this is supposed to be a vacation, Nic."

"I most certainly did not sign us up for a hike. Gross. I did, however, possibly sign us up to be extras in a T.V. show!"

Lilly's mouth dropped open in shock. "What? Why did you do this to me? You know I can't handle those 10 pounds that cameras add. This is going to be so embarrassing." Lilly sighed and rubbed her temples with her hands. "Fine. What show are we going to be on, anyway?" she asked Nicole.

"Well, about that…" Nicole trailed off again.

"For fuck's sake, Nicole. Just please tell me that if you signed us up for a porno that we're at least getting paid really, really well."

Nicole laughed so hard she fell over on the bed. Once she regained her composure and could breathe again, she looked at Lilly and said, "No. It is nothing like that. I just don't quite know what show we're going to be on. They were super vague and secretive. They did state that there was no nudity, though. I'm sorry I crushed your dreams of being an amateur Canadian porn star."

Lilly giggled as Nicole nudged her with her elbow. "We might want to unpack and get ready to head to bed. We do have to make our debut on screen tomorrow, after all."

The girls woke up at in the morning refreshed and excited about the day ahead of them. They both freshened up a little bit and headed downstairs to their hotel for breakfast filled the mouth-watering bacon, succulent fruit, and fresh made bread and pastries.

After they finished their breakfast, they headed back to their room to begin getting ready for the day. Lilly decided to curl her hair into loose, wavy curls while Nicole straightened her long, raven hair. Lilly put on a pair of dark wash straight legged jeans, a flattering white, V neck t-shirt, black flats, and a faux leather jacket. She stepped back into the main room where Nicole was sitting on the couch waiting for her. "Wow, you're really making me feel underdressed for this, Nic," Lilly told her. Nicole was wearing a red, knee length, spaghetti strap dress that perfectly accentuated her ample cleavage. She was wearing a gold bangle bracelet on her wrist, a few thin, gold necklaces, and gold-toed flats. Nicole blushed slightly as a sly grin slowly crept onto her face. "Don't sell yourself short there, hotshot. If you dress more like this back home, you might get more action."

Lilly and Nicole grabbed their purses and made their way to the lobby. They hailed a cab to the studio. Their drive through Vancouver was beautiful and they arrived soon enough. They got out of the cab and walked up to the building.

The building was large and vague. They were both confused and sure that they did not have the right address. There were no signs and the overall building looked unwelcoming. Nicole started to walk towards the door. She felt Lilly's eyes on her and she knew what she was thinking. "Look, Lilly, we signed up for this. We might as well go and check it out. If all else fails, maybe you will be that amateur actress you were dreaming of," Nicole smirked at her. Lilly sighed silently and walked with Nicole to the door. Before they had a chance to knock, a man opened the door looking frantic.

"You two, get in here already," he ordered, obviously annoyed. "You two are the extras, right?" The girls nodded, silently. "Right. I'm Robert, the casting director. Long story short, the two actresses we hired are nowhere to be found and we have to spots we need to fill. Y'all got any experience in this?"

"Um, yeah. Totally. We were both active in drama class when we were in school and we performed all the time. Lilly here was even in a few local commercials," Nicole retorted. She gained confidence as she spoke. She was naturally charismatic and always sure of herself, which Lilly always admired.

"Okay. Good. My assistant, Annalese, is going to handle this from here. Good luck," Robert informed them and started to walk away before he turned around and warned them, "Oh, and do not screw this up."

"Hi, I'm Annalese. Don't worry about him. He's always like that," she told them with a warm smile.

"So, what show are we going to be in, anyway?" Nicole asked.

"Oh, yeah, it's this show called Supernatural," Annalese responded.

"Supernatural?!" Nicole and Lilly almost yelled in unison.

"Ah, so I guess you've heard of it? That is one reason why we kept the description for the extras vague. Alright, let's get you both over to costume and makeup to see if they want to do anything different with you two. Trisha! I have two of the extras for you for costume and makeup!" She yelled as he walked off. Lilly and Nicole turned to each other and stared at each other, mouths agape, still in shock.

"Nicole, I take back everything I said before. Thank you so much." Lilly said, almost in a whisper. "This is going to be amazing"

They were lead to the costume and makeup area where they met Trisha. "You two are making my job really easy. If I can be frank, you two already look stunning and almost exactly what we envisioned for these characters. Alright, Lilly, is it?"

Lilly nodded.

"Awesome. We're going to keep the pants and the jacket. Let's get you into these heels and this top." The high heels were a beautiful emerald green and sexy. The top was the same color, but silky and low cut. They brought out her eyes and made them shine like emeralds under the bright sun.

"Okay, Nicole. Your dress is perfect, but we are going to have you wear these gold heels. We like heels here, can you tell?" Andrea laughed to herself. The pair got changed into their respective outfits.

"We look damn good, Lilly," Nicole said to Lilly with a smile.

A moment later, the director from before was back and handed Lilly and Nicole each a script.

"Okay, so read over this real quick so that you get the gist of what we're trying to do with this scene. You don't have to memorize it word for word because we do okay with making some stuff up as you go. You two are on set in 10 minutes," he told them and then like magic he was gone. The two read over the scripts as fast as they could until they heard a familiar voice.

"Ah, I think we have our fresh meat over here, Misha," Jensen joked. The two men were miraculously more attractive in person. And taller-so much taller in person. The two men were standing in front of them, smiling.

"Hi, I'm Nicole, and this is my friend, Lilly," Nicole smiled warmly and extended her hand for a handshake.

"It is nice to meet both of you and we hope you have fun filming with us. Oh, and Lilly, you don't have to be so nervous. We don't bite...too hard," Misha said to them with a wink. Nicole felt herself blush and start to bite her lower lip instinctively before she forced herself to stop.

"Thank you both. I-" Lilly was interrupted by a loud voice yelling out, "Everyone on set!"

The group headed to the set. Their scene was set in a bar. Lilly and Nicole positioned themselves at the bar, per their script.

"Action!"

Jared, Misha, and Jensen walked into the bar in their respective character- Sam, Cas, and Dean. "Yeah, we have to come up with a plan to kill the demon, but ya know what? Until then, Imma sit my ass down, have myself a drink, and try to have some fun," Dean said with a smirk.

"Okay, Dean. I think those two women at the bar might be able to assist in what you find 'fun'," Cas responded with a slow turn to Nicole and Lilly.

Lilly and Nicole laughed with each other. "Bartender, four more tequila shots, please?" Lilly asked with a sultry smile. Once the shots were handed to them, she sat one down and positioned the other between Nicole's breasts. She playfully pulled Nicole's hair to expose the left side of her neck. She licked a spot with her tongue and pour some salt on her neck, and positioned a lime in her mouth. Lilly slowly licked the salt off of Nicole's neck. Lilly then put her face into Nicole's cleavage, retrieving the tequila shot with her mouth and slung her head back, drinking it down and finished by getting the lime out of Nicole's awaiting, full lips.

"Damn!" Dean said sucking in a breath. "You know what? Cas, I think you should go see what they're up to. See about getting a body shot," Dean said with a wink. "Go get 'em, slugger."

"I don't play baseball, Dean," Cas said with a confused look before he walked up to Lilly and Nicole.

"Hello. I'm Cas. I was wondering what you were doing," Cas said to them.

"We're just doing some body shots, Cas. I'm Lilly and this is my girlfriend, Nicole," she said to him with a warm, smile.

"What is a body shot?" He asked confused.

"Here, let me show you," Lilly said with a wicked smile. She sat Cas down on a barstool. She grabbed a tequila shot from the bar and placed it between Cas' muscular legs right in his groin. She gently moved his head to the side and licked his neck before she added some salt. She placed her hand on his chin and instructed, "Open, please." Cas opened his mouth willingly, but obviously confused. Lilly looked at Cas with desire in her eyes.

She felt the tension between her thighs as she slid her tongue across his neck. She leaned down between his legs and grabbed the shot glass with her mouth, wishing for the hard item in her mouth to be something else entirely. She threw her head back causing her hair to follow. She grabbed the shot glass and handed it back to Nicole who sat it on the bar. Finally, she leaned into him and to retrieve the lime from his mouth. After a moment of drinking in what she just did, she told him, "That is one version of a body shot. If you're feeling frisky, you can take one off of Nicole," Lilly said to them both mischievously.

"Sure," Cas said, standing up.

Lilly set up Nicole as she had done before. Cas tenderly licked the salt off of Nicole's neck. Lilly could see the goosebumps forming on Nicole's arms. Cas slowly put his head between Nicole's breasts to get the shot before he drank it. He placed his hand on Nicole's face and moved to her lips to get the lime.

"Either you knew that would happen, or you're disappointed that it went so well for him, Dean," Sam said to Dean with a laugh.

"Shut up, Sam," Dean said, obviously annoyed as he slammed back the rest of his whiskey. "Cas, let's go!" Dean yelled over to him.

"Thank you," Cas said to them, earnestly as he walked towards Dean and Sam heading towards the door.

"Anytime," Lilly responded with a wink.

"Cut!" The director yelled out. "That was great everyone. Get ready for the next scene in 10!"

"Holy shit, Nic. Is this really happening?" Lilly asked Nicole in a whisper.

"You bet your hot ass it is. You can sing my praises later," Nicole responded with a wink.

"You two are doing great. Keep up the great work," the director said to them with a smile.

#spn #fanfic #winecatsandpizza #spn fanfic #misha collins #cas #castiel #dean #dean winchester #jensen ackles #jensen #casting call #supernatural #supernatural fanfic #winecatsandpizza writes #misha #accidental extras

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wordsaremybestfriends · 7 years

Text

Didn’t Ask For This: Chapter 1

Hi friends! This is the first time I have EVER posted on Tumblr, and the first time in about six years that I’ve ever posted online so I am half super excited and half extremely scared that the world might explode so that’s fun. Anyways, I freaking love Stranger Things, and I decided to write a Steve Harrington X OC story because this is how I cope with a shit ton of college work.

ANYways, I hope that you guys enjoy this story as much as I do, and don’t worry, because there’s a lot more on the way. Thanks for reading, and don’t be afraid to ask if you want to be tagged in it, or to tell me your thoughts, or to send me recipes for blueberry muffins because I accept all of those. Thanks for reading, and I hope you guys have fun with this as much as I had fun writing it!!!

Warnings: Cursing, Child Abuse, Vocal Abuse, if you find anything else, LET ME KNOW and i will tag it!!!!

REMINDER: Steve and Nancy had no previous relationship in this world because why not?

Dustin Henderson was waiting in the living room, twiddling his fingers between his hands. It was fifteen minutes past when his older sister was supposed to be home from her job at the library, and he was as impatient as ever. Their mother had gone to bed long ago, but he couldn’t sleep, excitement filling his veins. The buzz of her old Vespa she fixed up last summer was nowhere, and the phone hadn’t rang all night. If she didn’t get home soon enough, Dustin was considering actually going out to look for her himself, just to save his anxious mind

Emma Henderson, five years his senior, was probably the smartest person Dustin knew, and if anyone could help him figure out what Dart was, it would be her. Besides being the most outspoken and educated one in the family, Emma was the most curious girl in the world. Whenever she wanted to know exactly how something worked, she’d just spend a day in her room, reading as much as she could, until she was close to an expert. To Dustin, she was a goddess of knowledge, one that helped him out with math homework and book reports without a second thought. Every teacher either loved her with all their heart, or wished they could have a muzzle in the classroom so she’d shut up during lessons, but Dustin loved her anyways. She had convinced their mother to buy him his first Dungeons and Dragons book, and listened to all of his ramblings. The only way to stop her was to put a book in her hands, and for a few hours, she’d be intensely focused and as silent as a cloudless night.

The biggest reason he loved her, however, was because of their father.

When their parents started to fight at night, she let Dustin creep into her bed, the screams too loud to sleep through. She’d wipe away his tears and let him fall asleep in her arms, listening to the quiet hums of songs that they would sing to. He’d tell her his fears, and she kept the secrets close to her heart, trying to reassure him as much as possible that everything was okay, even if she didn’t believe it. He was only five back then, Emma ten, almost eleven, and his childish ears should never have had to hear the aggravated yelling just down the hall.

She’d never say it, but she knew the reason her father was always angry at her mother was because of how much money her mother would spend on the books Emma wanted. Mrs. Henderson would order books about anything from physics to geography, to the complete works of William Shakespeare to keep her obsession satiated. Financially, the books never put a dent in their spendings. Mrs. Henderson worked hard, along with her husband, and she’d always set a little aside from each paycheck to get Dustin and Emma a book. Where Mrs. Henderson saw knowledge and importance in the passions of her children, Mr. Henderson saw a waste of money on children that would forget everything in just a few months. Women, to him, were mindless people only useful for cooking and fucking. Every time Emma had a new book in her hands, he’d grumble on and on about the useless woman that his daughter will turn out to be, one who doesn’t know how to keep a home or a man happy.

She could heard the words they’d throw around when they thought their children were asleep, words that left their mother sobbing and broken in the spare bedroom as her husband took the master. Emma tried to ignore them and focus on the studies of Einstein and Freud, but the bruises on her mother’s wrists and the way she held her ribs after a loud night were hard to ignore.

After a month or two of seeing her mother with a new bruise, or makeup caking her skin where he had hit her, her heart became bitter and cold. Her father was disgusting, evil, a cockroach in their house that she wanted to squash with all her might. She had read the books about parenting and relationships from the library. It was unhealthy, the way he was treating her, and she couldn’t stand by anymore. The storybooks her mother read to her when she was younger said that married people were supposed to be in love, and parents were supposed to be happy, not hurting each other with words like ‘fat whore’ and ‘useless scammer’.

Which was precisely why Emma began to fight back.

Her mother never noticed as she began to grow more and more obnoxious, the torment slowly flowing from her mother back to her. Sometimes, it was accidentally talking too long about something she had researched that day, watching her father’s face grow a dark scarlet color. She didn’t miss the way he gripped her knee, as if he wanted to crush it within his calloused and rough hands. Sometimes, it was directly asking him smartass questions, like how much alcohol cost, and why he drank so much of it if it was so expensive. He’d clench his jaw, eyes narrowed and squeeze underneath her arm to leave a dark purple bruise that forced tears to spring to her eyes and let out a breathy gasp of pain, quiet enough so her mother wouldn’t notice. The punishments weren’t always painful. Sometimes it was no dinner that night. Sometimes it was getting her books taken away. The memory of her father burning her copy of ‘To Kill a Mockingbird’ still shook her to her core, but she never regret her antics.

The riskiest things she did, though, was wander into her parents’ room a few times when she heard the arguing begin. She’d have her nose in a book, and take slow steps through the door, eyes trained on a single word. Her father would fall into a restless silence as she walked up to her mother lazily, feigning innocence of the situation at hand. She’d give her mother a sweet smile, skinny fingers pointing to a single word that she ‘didn’t understand, Mommy’. Her mother, desperate to keep her husband at bay for just the night, would never hesitate to help her, even going so far to pull out a dictionary she had shoved in the bookshelf in their room, taking her dear sweet time to help her daughter understand.

Those were the times her father left the bedroom and waited in the hallway, veins popping from his neck. When she finally left the room, he wouldn’t waste a second to grab her by her jaw, squeezing as hard as he could as he hissed threats at her. She could still remember the stench of scotch on her father’s tongue, the way his spit would splatter against her face as he told her words she couldn’t quite forget. You little shit know not to interrupt your mother and I when we’re having a conversation. This is why no one wants you. This is why no one loves you. This is why you’ll die alone, because of your loud mouth and stupid brain.

He’d always finish his torment with a slap to her cheek, hard enough to knock her over a few feet, and stalk back to his room, heartbeat slowly beginning to calm down. The pain hurt like hell, the sting unrelenting, but at least for that night, she didn’t hear them yelling at each other anymore.

A month of hiding tiny bruises from her friends at school, and Emma knew she was slowly fixing the problem. Her mother’s bruises began to disappear and the tone her father used to address her was softer, slightly kinder than what it once was. She would take a million slaps, a million punches, a million nights with no dinner, anything to keep the rest of her family safe. Dustin and her mother meant more to her than the entire world, and if she was able to stop their pain, then she was doing something worthwhile.

But the explosion, the climax of her father’s anguish, was one of the worst nights of her life.

September 5th, a date Emma had burned into her mind, and it started off simple. Her father came home drunk, and when he was drunk, he’d get sleepy. When he was sleepy, he wouldn’t hurt anyone anymore. Sometimes, he got angry, and those were the times she told Dustin to go play in his room instead of in the living room, and she’d grunt and grit her teeth and take her father’s hatred instead of her mother.

Except that night, she was too busy reading to hear her father come home.

Her eyes were magnetized to a copy of Pride and Prejudice, when she heard a scream come from downstairs, her entire body going numb. The scream did not belong to her mother, but rather, her baby brother, only six years old and unaware of the problems that lay under the surface of her parents’ relationship. She dropped the book, bolting down the stairs to see her father standing over her little brother, a side of his face burned bright red from the powerful slap of his. Their mother was nowhere to be found, when Emma remembered it was a Wednesday, and she worked until 5 on Wednesdays.

And it was only 4:55.

“Stop!” She screamed at her father, his inferno of a gaze aimed straight back at Emma. He was still wearing his work boots, a steel-toed cowboy pair one since he worked on the farms, and she saw how close it’s threatening step was to her little brother’s arm. “Don’t hurt him!”

“God damn you little bitch!” He shouted at her as Dustin scrambled to get back up, pudgy body narrowly missing her father’s touch. “When will you learn that women need to be seen, and not heard!”

“If you want to hit someone,” She replied, eyes wide and serious as she stared her father down, fists clenched at her sides. Dustin shook underneath him, tracks of silent tears dripping down his face as he fought to hold back sobs. “Go and hit me instead.”

She could see Dustin beside her, and as slyly as she could, she’d let her eyes flick to the door rapidly. If he could get away, be safe for one more day, then she wouldn’t mind a single bruise that came to her. Their father was slowly approaching her as Dustin slipped away, chubby fingers slowly pulling down the lock and opening the door. His bare feet against the stone walkway of their house was music to Emma’s ears.

Her father stood within an arms length of her, eyes narrowed and smirk upon his booze-laced lips. His cast-iron hand reached behind her, grabbing ahold of her ponytail as he tugged her face to keep her eyes forced on him.

“You think you’re some kind of saint, makin’ me hurt you instead of your mother?” He spat at her, twisting her hair tighter against her scalp. She fought to keep her hands down. It was always worse if she fought back.

With arms wide around as Emma’s entire neck, her father shoved her against the floor, head smacking against the wall. She shut her eyes tight as he pressed her shoulder back, flattening her to the ground as he stood over her, a looming spectre of anger.

“I’ll make sure you never disobey me again!” He roared against her face, letting a punch land straight against her stomach. Her entire body jolted, seizing up as he pushed one of her arms down against the floor, his steel toed boot landing straight on it with a sickening crunch and pop.

Emma couldn’t help but scream, the overwhelming sensation of pain filling her entire body. She popped her eyes open, staring straight at her father’s blackened eyes, face contorting into a beast rather than a demon. He was scarlet with anger, spit falling from his lips and hair falling into his eyes. It was a horrid look, one that Emma would see in her nightmares for years to come.

She felt him punch her again, skull bouncing off the ground. The flicker of her eyes going shut was inescapable as everything melted into black.

Only moments later had the front door burst open and the neighbors that Dustin had ran to grab instantly sprinted to pull their father off of Emma. They held him down as the sirens of a police car and an ambulance began to fade in from down the street.

She woke up in the hospital a day later, cast on her arm and ears ringing. The way her entire head buzzed was frustrating and apparently because she had a concussion from her father. Her mother promised she’d never let anything happen to them again, and after a few more days, she was released and night still fell, and the sun still rose. The story seeped around town, everyone suddenly aware of the monster of Mr. Henderson, now in jail for assault, but no one spoke about the broken girl that had taken his anger for months and months.

The general population of Hawkins that were aware of Emma’s story always speculated that it was her father’s fault she had turned into an icy shell of the girl she once was. She was stubborn with teachers when she dared to defy them, and had been sent to the principal’s office more than once for cursing at them in class. Nancy was one of the few friends she kept, since it was easier to talk to someone who you had grown up with instead of someone who had just read in the paper about her father’s arrest.

For the most part, she kept her conversations short and voice tight. She wouldn’t hesitate to call you out on bullshit and point out just how wrong someone was, even if it was a teacher. Her ears were always open, and for some reason, she slowly became one of the top people for advice amongst her peers, just because of how intelligent she was. She’d hide in her books, and if you dared to disturb her, you’d be in for a twenty second rant about why you should never disrupt a girl that was busy. The once warm girl turned stone cold to most, and it was almost a death sentence if you tried to be rude to her.

But then, were moments where she broke. Some nights she’d wake up in a frenzy from her nightmares with tears running down her face as the vision of her father’s face only inches above her shocked her to her core. Sometimes, she’d sit by herself, unable to break the constant replay of her father’s words in her head. She would never admit it, but it was so hard to believe herself and not the voice in her head of her father. Dustin was the only one she let in, the only one that she’d ever let know exactly what was going on in her head. He listened as she cried, he told her in extreme detail how much he loved her, hell, he sometimes just gave up time with his friends to sit and be with her. He’d hold her hands when they’d shake. He’d tug on her jacket when he knew she was getting upset, and take her away. He’d do all he could to keep her happy.

They were siblings that would give up their own happiness, their own health, their own life to save the other. And they would never let that bond break them.

TAGGED: @lillie-writes

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