#Mindless tagging ahem
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deep-space-lines · 2 months ago
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ULTRAGIFT wishlist below the cut. you should join ultragift
1. Lancer and/or Vysehrad, my OCs. There's info and refs in the tag on my blog, as well as a playlist for vibes! (I apologize for the wall of text for this one I just have a lot of thoughts about them)
Doomed yuri <3 Vysehrad is an Earthmover with a cathedral on her back, left abandoned in a field when her power began to fail at the beginning of the New Peace. She's slowly dying, no longer able to move but drifting in and out of consciousness on the rare occasions that enough sunlight makes it through the clouds. Lancer, a much smaller war machine/scraphead, is sort of her bodyguard-wife. Imagine if you fell in gay love with a mosquito who has sworn to protect you in exchange for an endless supply of blood. They both die tragically because this is ultrakill we're talking about
Notes: Vysehrad is 400m high and Lancer is a little over 2 meters, but that does make it really hard to draw them together so feel free to disregard! The architecture doesn't have to match exactly or even be particularly detailed so long as it's recognizable as a Gothic cathedral in vibes; feel free to simplify or keep it sketchy/silhouette. Vysehrad hasn't been able to stand or raise her head since the end of the war. Neither of them have canonically been to Hell (Vysehrad is permanently stuck in a sometimes-snowy field of dead sunflowers) but don't let that stop you.
I'd love any art of them together, or separately. Would love to see Lancer committing acts of incredible violence or Vysehrad with some dead sunflowers or something, or maybe Vysehrad still active during the war, or whatever strikes your fancy- go ham, go violent, go lesbian, go silly
(I will not bore you with the essay I could write about their relationship and about how anything one could call 'love' between them stems from being mutually, inextricably dependent on each other. The way that both of them know all too well that the only reason Lancer is capable of something resembling caring is because their basic needs are being met, knowing that their ability to rise above animalistic brutality is temporary and they'll go back to the mindless bloody struggle for survival just like every other machine as soon as Vysehrad inevitably dies and takes their infinite fuel source away from them. About Lancer not being able to tell whether their caring for Vysehrad is for purely selfish reasons or not. About how Vysehrad, despite her capacity for destruction, is used to carrying an entire human city on her back and is profoundly lonely now that they're gone and needs to devote herself to someone to stave off the existential terror of impending nothingness, needs Lancer to make what's left of her life worth living because without them there's nothing for her to do but stare at the ground and wait to die, and AHEM ANYWAY)
2. Ceti, shameless self-insert OC and world's most ADHD machine. Maybe chillin' underwater in Wrath looking at fish or partying it up in bisexual lighting or absolutely covered in blood idk just have fun!!
3. Gabriel or literally any machine in a Czech kroj. Put those things in dresses!!!! Or goth outfits, that would also go hard.
4. Lesbians. IDC who. Mirage/V2? Mannequin/mindflayer? Swordsmachine/streetcleaner? Guttertank/gutterman? All of these, and more, can be lesbians. The sky's the limit
5. If all else fails I just think Earthmover is cool. And swordsmachine. And mindflayer. And V1. I <3 machines kickin' ass
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weirdlittlecorner · 3 years ago
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The Brothers as TikToks
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Just something fun while I procrastinate studying. Who doesn't love some old-fashioned, mindless scrolling?
Tags: @icy-spicy @lilliblossom @singlecelledthot @bihansthot
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Bi-Han
“What’s poppin’?” “Don’t mind me just watching.”
🧊 Despite him being, well, cold, he’s definitely the more affectionate of the two
🧊 I mean, we all know how Bi-Han is, right?
🧊 Handsy as fuck
🧊 Will always keep you within arms' reach. You never know when he has to, *ahem* assert his dominance
🧊 I’m kidding! Partially… he’s just a handsy guy. Loves walking with his hand on your *lower* back
🧊 Also, as the TikTok implies, always has his eyes on you
🧊 Changing? He’s there with a front-row seat. Showering? Not without him.
🧊 What do you mean he doesn’t need to watch you brush your teeth? You look so good with… you know what, never mind 😬
🧊 But isn’t that what boyfriends are for? To hype you up?
🧊 It’s really a win-win. Bi-Han gets to *admire your assets* and you get to enjoy being lavished with attention
Noob Saibot
*Sobbing* “What are you doing in my house?” “I want waffle fries.”
💀 When you heard the news about Bi-Han’s death, you expected just that. Death.
💀 So just imagine your surprise when he just… pops up??
💀 Sir, you’re dead, how are you here claiming to be y/n’s boyfriend?
💀 Well, kind of… He’s a wraith now, and goes by Noob Saibot, of course. Same thing, really
💀 After the initial frustration of trying to get you to understand, he finds your dumbfounded reaction amusing
💀 The look on your face melts his cold, dead heart
💀 Has zero qualms about simply phasing in and out when he wants something. Love, attention, to hear you screaming his name…
💀 And if you’re mad and want to ignore him? He’ll just pop up on you anyway
💀 “Are you done yet?”
💀 But he’s here, alive (somewhat). And, really, what more could you possibly need?
Kuai Liang
“Got an impossible whopper, cause it should be impossible to look this good.” *five seconds later* “When is it my turn to be happy?”
❄️ *breathes in* Okay.
❄️ This poor boy has been through a lot. A LOT.
❄️ From the death of his brother to being a cyborg to being a revenant
❄️ Seriously, when is it time for him to be happy?
❄️ Struggles with his self-concept more than he lets on
❄️ Is he a good leader? Why does everything happen to him? Does he really deserve this life?
❄️ Of course you’re right there to offer him all the love and support in the entire world
❄️ Sometimes that’s hard, especially since he’s so stoic and will constantly shy away from affection
❄️ But man do you try.
❄️ He secretly loves the .25 seconds of hand-holding he gets, though, and is slowly coming around. Slowly.
❄️ Just remember to be patient with him. All in good time, y’know?
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morvollo · 3 years ago
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wearing my heart like a crown
Ship: Luckae/Kaeluc
Rating: Mature
Word Count: 1K+ Words
Tags: Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms, Delusional Fantasizing, Yearning
Read on AO3
Some days, Kaeya can handle things well.
"Take that!"
The children gathered on the steps overlooking the Knights' training area clap and squeal in joy. The playful and strong Captain Kaeya has incapacitated his opponent, a poor young knight, by caging his legs in a block of ice.
The knight loses his bearing and falls flat on his face, followed by another chorus of childish giggles.
Kaeya taps the tip of his sword on his head.
"I win."
Kaeya waves to the children and bows dramatically, even makes a show of spinning his sword with his usual flamboyant flourish before tucking it away.
Behind him, he hears a familiar voice address him.
"Captain." Jean's tone is stern but mostly exasperated. She sighs. "You know you're not supposed to use your Vision training the new recruits, correct?"
It takes Kaeya a moment to reply, making faces at the children delighted at his impression of Jean scolding him. Eventually, he turns around, his gaze traveling almost lazily to meet Jean's.
"Oh, right! Right. Pardon me. I admit I just can't help participating in some light hazing when the newbies just look so cute shaking in their boots."
Jean shakes her head. "Hurry and put away the training equipment. We have a meeting to attend."
Some days, Kaeya can handle things well. Really well.
(Almost disturbingly well, actually.
Not a single soul in Mondstadt was left unaware of the tragedy that befell the late Master Ragnvindr; one son leaving without a word soon after and the other son brutalized and left licking his wounds with no more family fall back on.
And yet it wasn't even a week later when the lonesome Kaeya was already back on his feet and dancing through town again. All smiles, teasing winks, and an incredible ability to put anyone at ease despite the circumstances.
Good for him, everyone had thought, that he could recover so quickly after everything he'd been through. Sure it was a little strange just how well he was taking things, but why wish the boy more grief? If he's fine, then that's just for the best, isn't it? Isn't he?)
And this is because Kaeya, as it turns out, is a daydreamer.
A natural born charmer, Kaeya charms even himself. Charms himself with visions and fantasies of red hair and the smell of charcoal and grape stained fingers. Tricks himself with these beautiful lies.
All in order to get by. And, with varying degrees of success, he does.
Except for today.
Kaeya knows why his charm isn’t working today. Of course he does. The reason had been poisoning his body with... with... with something nasty, something unbearable this entire past week. And that is: exactly a year ago today, he lost every that’s ever meant anything to him.
And Jean grabs him by the arm on their way out from the Knights' headquarters after their meeting with a disgustingly sympathetic look on her pretty face. Kaeya has to swallow down the bile traveling up his throat from how much he hates it.
Stop looking at me like that. Stop acting as if there’s something to feel bad about. Stop making it harder to pretend. Stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it stop it—
I’m fine.
“I’m fine.” Kaeya’s voice is soft, calm when he says it.
And Jean—believes—Kaeya. Has her worries and her doubt washed away because in that short moment (just in that moment), Kaeya’s charm kicks in successfully, the kind of successful where both Jean and Kaeya really believe it.
He’s fine.
"I'd offer to buy you a drink if you didn't already have one." The boyish face these words come from looks up at him through half-lidded eyes, obviously already tipsy, Kaeya can tell, from the pink in his cheeks. "Might you accept my company instead?"
A little bit taller than him, muscular but not too bulky, a charming splatter of freckles over the bridge of his nose—and striking red hair.
Kaeya knew before coming here that spending his night at Angel's Share would be incredibly stupid. Why would he come to a place so deeply connected to —, everything about this tavern just reminds him of —, but maybe if he drowns in enough wine he can pretend he’s actually with —
Yes, incredibly stupid, yet here he is. Because he wants to be drunk. Because he figures being a miserable little boy watching painful memories play out at the bottom of a wine glass is well-earned punishment for a sinner like him.
But a sinner always falls for temptation.
“I’ve been waiting all night for you,” Kaeya slurs, flirtatious and breathless. “No need to act all coy. I’m an impatient man, remember?”
Redhead blinks, blushes, and gasps in astonishment. “So you do remember me. Oh, wow.” Kaeya is slowly nodding along to every word, mindless, gaze unfocused and hazy. “I know I’m just a humble merchant and you’re a dashing knight, but I figured I’d, uh, shoot my shot when I saw you sitting here. Ah, ahem, you’re the prettiest man I’ve ever seen and—“
“Don’t you wanna fuck me already?”
Redhead blinks once more, blushes even deeper, then stutters flustered affirmation as Kaeya grabs him by the front of his tunic.
Hot puffs of breath tickle the side of Kaeya’s neck. Warm, so warm. The broad chest snug against his back pushes him flatter against the alley wall with every thrust.
Kaeya arches his back, tenses every muscle in his body, then reaches a hand between his legs to stroke himself to completion.
His body aches.
Perfect.
Calloused hands turn his face to the side and suddenly he’s being kissed. Kaeya’s vision comes back into focus and he sees—green eyes hidden beneath locks of red hair.
"Get off me." Kaeya's voice is soft.
The man—not Diluc—hums in confusion. "O-oh, sorry, am I hurting you?”
"Get the fuck off me!" Ice like daggers fly through the air where Kaeya has swung his arm about in anger.
The man scrambles away, hurrying to pull his trousers over his hips.
Kaeya falls to his knees. Tastes gravel on his tongue.
It's several hours later before he's able to drag his body to his woefully empty apartment.
*:・゚✧
"I'm sorry."
Kaeya buries his head into Diluc's chest, the thudding of that familiar heartbeat like the sound of a lullaby. His tears soak Diluc's shirt, his tight grip threatening to rip the fabric, and he vows to never let go again.
"I'm sorry too, Kaeya."
Kaeya bawls. Almost screams. He cries so hard his head pounds, but the warmth encircled around his waist is all he cares about.
"Don't leave me, don't leave me, don't leave me...."
The arms tighten their hold.
"I won't."
The blooming in Kaeya's chest fills him with happiness, but bites him at the same time.
Kaeya trembles, curls into himself, makes himself smaller, like a little boy on his bed.
"Thank you," he croaks into his bedsheets, lamp grass petals scattered all over, the crushed stem rubbed into the cloth. Kaeya inhales the sugary scent of nectar. "Thank you for coming back to me."
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pressedinthepages · 4 years ago
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Redamancy
Latin. verb. the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.
Fandom: The Witcher
Pairing: Lambert x Reader
Word Count: 1623
Rating: T
ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24937177
Masterlist
a/n: Reader Request: By chance can you do a Lambert oneshot of him trying to court the reader?
Tags: @whitewolfandthefox​ ​ @havenoffandoms​ @mishafaye ( Add yourself to my taglist here! )
Warnings: nothing outside of the ordinary swearing, this is fluff at it’s finest. also, this is my first time writing lambert, so let me know what you do/don’t like!
Lambert tries his best to woo you, relying on old traditions to hold your heart.
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    You huffed, trying and failing to blow the stray strand of hair out of your eyes. You’d been bent over the counter for upwards of an hour, mixing and kneading wares for the next week. The sweet dough is soft under your fingers, stretching as you dig and pull at the mixture. The dough sticks to your hands and you know that flour dusts across your cheeks like a bizarre set of freckles. You hum lightly as you work, letting yourself be lulled into a peaceful mindlessness. 
    You look up for a moment, stretching the muscles in your shoulders and down your back. Your workbench is nestled along the back wall of your home, a small window just above overlooking the sprawling valley of flowers in the distance. While your little cottage is your slice of paradise, you can’t help thinking that it feels so empty, especially when he’s gone.
    You shake your head and return to your hunched position as you push and punch into the dough. Your mind has always had a penchant for wandering, but you’re determined to focus and get your breads finished before the night is over. Just as you’re about to slice the large batch into smaller portions for baking, you sense something in the room behind you.
    Before you can turn around, though, a large body leans against your back and a hand cups your arse. “Damn, that bread looks almost as delicious as you,” the man growls into your ear before nipping at your shoulder.
    You feel your heart rate settle as you turn to face the familiar voice. Lambert keeps his hands on you as you spin, glancing along your hips as a smug smile dances across his lips. 
    “Lambert,” you chide teasingly, “you know how I hate surprises.”
    His golden eyes glint in the late afternoon sun, mirthful and full of a joy that he keeps reserved just for you. Lambert had followed the scent of sweet baked goods one afternoon last summer, and ever since he had found you up to your elbows in batter, he hasn’t been able to stay away for long. 
    “Ah, I know, love, but when I saw you bent over that table, I just couldn’t help myself…” he leans and whispers into your ear, capturing some of the soft flesh of your neck lightly between his teeth. You sink into his embrace, careful to rest your elbows on his arms so as to not cover him in dough and flour. 
    “I’m glad you’re back, I miss you so when you leave,” you murmur into his neck as you plant gentle kisses along his skin. 
    “Mhm, there’s truly no place I’d rather be,” he kisses along your jaw before meeting your lips, something sweet and delicate barely suppressing the insatiable hunger in his embrace. 
    Regrettably, you pull back, apologetically meeting his confused gaze. “Let me wash this off, then we can continue.” You place a knuckle under his chin as you turn out of his grasp with a cheeky grin. 
    You step outside, Lambert following behind as you stride towards the well in your yard. Before you can reach for the handle, the Witcher hoists the pail from the depths below. You can’t help but watch appreciatively as his muscles swell under his shirt, flexing and shifting with immeasurable strength. 
    As he bends to place the bucket on the ground you rush behind him, planting your hand on his arse and squeezing, Lambert startling back upright at the sensation.
    “Just returning the favor, dear,” you smirk, pulling your hand back to see a perfect outline of flour in its place on the dark fabric. Lambert chuckles darkly, trying to decide if it was dark enough out to just take you right here in the yard without your neighbors seeing. 
    Deciding otherwise, he moves to your side as you dip your hands into the pail. The cool water is refreshing in the warm afternoon, invigorating waves of energy soaring through your skin. You hurriedly wash away the evidence of your craft, water splashing out of the bucket as you scrub.
    Satisfied, you stand once more and take Lambert’s hand, threading your fingers through his. Both of you have hands calloused from years of work and hardship, but for very different reasons. Under your fingers, you can feel his heart thrumming under the skin. A witcher’s heartbeat is always slow, true, but whenever you touch Lambert, hold him close with tender gestures and low words only for him, you can feel it beat just the slightest amount quicker. 
    You pull him back inside, letting him go once you get past the door so that you may cover the dough. Ah, you think to yourself, so much for getting it all finished tonight. 
    When you turn back around, Lambert is...kneeling?
    “Darling, what the fuck are you doing?” You giggle, reaching out to pull him to stand. He shakes his head, staying where he is on the floor.
    “First of all, watch your fucking language.” You laugh heartily, and Lambert does as well. You relish these moments, when the great supposedly impenetrable walls that encase his heart crack and crumble. His laugh is...unique, more of an aggressive bark than what would normally be considered a sound of joy. You know better though, the sound warming your soul as Lambert clears his throat and composes himself, looking up at you with his striking eyes the color of the richest sunset.
    “Ahem,” he starts, and you raise your eyebrows as you hold back a smirk. “I want to be honest with you; I truly have no idea what the hell I am doing.” 
    Your chest shakes with your laughter, but you hold it in, pursing your lips as you huff through your nose.
    “Now, I had the bard help me with this bit, ‘cause I want to get it right and he’s poncy enough to know the proper method of this.” He reaches into his jerkin, pulling a neatly folded slip of parchment into his hand. He holds it aloft in front of him, his free hand flying out in a grand sweeping motion.
    “‘Dearest beloved, I yearn to dedicate an entire volume of poetry to the enrapturing visage of your beauty, but alas I am no poet. So I shall sing your praises in the form of this letter, of which I will read aloud for the world to hear.’”
    You can’t help but smile a bit at his antics, not sure if Jaskier actually gave him proper advice or was just fucking with him. Either way, you felt tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes at the sweetness of the gesture.
    “‘The moment I first stumbled into your life, the sky had only just opened enough for the great glory of the sun to shine onto the petals of flowers left dewy from the dawn fog.’” Lambert’s eyes never left the page as he read, and a slight blush crept up his neck as he continued along. He never was one for grand declarations, but you’re sure that you’ll remember this moment for the rest of your life.
    “‘...and that is why, dearest of hearts, I desperately plead for you to take my heart as yours, carry it with you wherever you may go, and grant me the honor of holding your heart as mine.’”
    At the final word, Lambert returns his gaze back to you, nervous and vulnerable in a way that you’ve never seen in him. You close the distance between the two of you and sink to your knees, meeting him at eye level. 
    Wordlessly, you snake your hand to the back of his head and pull him to you, placing a gentle kiss to his lips. His hands wrap around your waist as he pulls you flush against him, swiftly deepening the kiss as he licks into your mouth. He steals your breath with every movement, his hands desperately grasping onto any part of you they can. You moan into his mouth and move your hands down his chest, moving to undo the laces keeping his jerkin closed.
    As you begin to untie them, Lambert pulls back with another sharp bark of laughter. “I suppose I can take that as a yes?” 
    You undo the knot and slide the armor from his shoulders, letting it pool on the ground as his hands move to the delicate buttons on your shirt. 
    “Oh, my love, you truly didn’t have to do all of that, my heart has been yours since I caught you smiling at me from across the market, before you really let me see you smile,” you murmur against his neck pulling at any bit of fabric you can reach to try and remove it from his body.
    “Mm, well, you deserve so much more than I can offer, so I figured that I should at least try to court you properly.” Lambert’s voice is low, shame tinging the edges of his words. 
    You move to face him, taking his face in your hands and gently stroking the long scar that runs down his cheek. “You listen here, I don’t give a shit what I do or don’t deserve, what matters is what I want, and what I want is you, only you, my Lambert.”
    You move forward to kiss him sweetly once more, pulling him to stand with you. Suddenly, you feel him bend, and the next thing you know you’re in the air, Lambert carrying you in his arms to your bed. You laugh into his lips, resolving to never let go of the sealed up, hardened heart that has begun to melt and turn soft that you have been given.
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renofstarlight · 4 years ago
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Rules: Tag 10 other blogs you want to learn more about!
Tagged by: @robot-with-anxiety​ thank you!
Name: [REDACTED]
Nicknames: Ren
Starsign: Pisces
Gender: nonbinary
Height: 5'2.5"
Sexual Orientation: demi I guess? idk I like just saying queer bc it fits since I’m just not sure.
Fave Color: purple, turquoise, black
Current Time: 3:01pm
Current Location: Montana, USA
Average Hours of Sleep: I hate this question when drs ask it bc it is literally all over the place. I guess maybe 7 average? Last couple days have probably been closer to 10 though. But I’d been having trouble sleeping for weeks so.
Lucky Number: 2. or anything with 2.
Last Thing I Googled: technically I DuckDuckGo’ed it bc they don’t track you or store info the way Google does. :) but it was “i’m gonna kermit” bc I’m not always hip to the memes. Thank god for knowyourmeme.com
Number of Blankets I Sleep With: depends. Average is two. Three when it’s colder. Sometimes one in the summer.
Fave Fictional Characters: SAM WINCHESTER (spn). ahem. Ben White (OC), Ben Solo (Star Wars), Bucky Barnes (Marvel), Link (Legend of Zelda), Raymond (Animal Crossing), Bengal (Animal Crossing), Jasnah Kholin (Stormlight Archives),
Fave Bands/Artists: someone said I gave off Unhinged Emo vibes with my last url (renoftheshadows) so here’s your proof. Starset, Breaking Benjamin, Linkin Park, Evanescence, Three Days Grace, Lacuna Coil, Panic! At the Disco, Puscifer, Five Finger Death Punch, Glitch Mob, Nero, Seven Lions, Blackmill, Seether, Staind. Also a shit ton of random stuff. Despite this list I will actually listen to almost anything. Or at least try it.
Dream Job: assuming this is under a socialist/anarchist society where people actually get fairly compensated for their labor and I can work only part time or less bc of disability... maybe crop picker. Something dealing with plants and being outdoors, but kinda mindless and repetitive. Data entry would be okay too.
Random Fact: my left leg is shorter than my right one by almost a half inch.
Do you have any other blogs?: mhmm. A personal/mental health one (you can ask for it but I might not tell you if I don’t feel I know you well enough), another VERY personal one that only my partner knows about, a tarot one @cosmicxamethyst, plus 10 more that are only used occasionally.
When did your blog reach its peak?: right now lol
What made you decide to get Tumblr?: I kept seeing screenshots on Pintrest and I wanted a fandom space and, well, the rest is history.
Why did you choose your URL?: ajfdal well my original one was bc it related to Kylo Ren. This one bc of the creampie saga/insanity on Dec 12. I like it and think it’s hilarious so I’m keeping it for now.
Tagging: @catgirlmulder @milfsamwinchester @armymaninashtraysaweverything @flatbedford @starcasticcelestial @spectator-sam @itsjustallaboutsam  @jackandthesoulmates @itstartswithbloodshed @starryeyedriot @samanddeaninpanties @cantdothisalone @tentaclemonsterloverdean @spneveryseason @ohmygod-zu-you-suck and anyone else who wants to!!
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nursc-a2 · 2 years ago
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‧͙⁺˚*・༓☾                    @patternsrhyme​​ asked:❛  it’s  an  adventure ,   Christine,   it’s  good  for  you .  ❜ AHEM from Chloe in her Star Trek verse
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the words, which echo and perturb her, are momentarily ignored as she continues peering at an object at a stall, ignoring chloe's gaze;    isn't this something she has said a hundred times, dragging friends and acquaintances, and even the occasional stranger across shadowy streets, losing herself to a new environment, squeezing the joy out of every moment.   and yet, here she lingers, smiling at the seller, keeping up a mindless chatter about the best restaurants in town and how long is she staying, when chloe is offering her something incredible. blue eyes at the corner of her vision, drawing back when caught, an embarrassed giggle bursting from her lips.
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     “    and what do you know about adventure, miss smith?     ”
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meme tag.     ☾      accepting
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darlingpetao3 · 7 years ago
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For Asgard (Chapter 27/?)
Summary: What if Odin had banished Loki to Earth instead of Thor? The story of how you, the Reader, meet and help Loki on his quest to return to Asgard.
One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen Nineteen Twenty Twenty-One Twenty-Two Twenty-Three Twenty-Four Twenty-Five Twenty-Six
A/N: I’m sorry for this...
The sun here is eclipsing.
It's so dark, you almost believe you're still mentally out of it. So dark, you need to rest your eyes for a little while longer. The Aether continues to drain all your strength, but that doesn't mean your ears don't still work. You hear a voice, Loki's.
“If it were not necessary to exchange the Aether for Lorelei, what I could do by harnessing the power that flows through my darling's veins...”
“It would consume you, like it is her,” Thor warns, sounding irked.
“She is holding up far better than I had expected when she told me,” Loki continues.
“For now,” Amora scoffs.
“(Y/N) is strong in ways you will never know.” Loki's voice drips with poisonous tones.
“Enough, Amora,” says Thor, “Loki is right. She fought bravely in the battle of New York.”
“Alright, fine,” she concedes with a flip of her flowing blonde hair.
“Thank you, brother.”
“That does not mean I trust you, Loki. I wish I could trust you.”
Loki mutters something to himself that you can't quite hear. A moment later, he tries to wake you gently. “(Y/N)...” Your eyes flutter open, pretending you're only now waking. Off on the horizon, a monumental Dark Elf vessel floats down from the thick, grey clouds. It calls out to you...
“Malekith...”
You can sense it.
Team Aether, as you sort of want to call your group, hikes up the ridge of a steep and rocky hill, staying low to avoid any unwanted attention just yet.
Malekith and his freakish crew make the first move, heading out to an open space down below on the plateau. You recognize the creature beside him that had slain Frigga. The bastard. They appear to have a woman with them and you can tell from up here her hair is gorgeously red and is as ridiculously beautiful as Amora.
“Are we going or what?” asks Amora impatiently. “That right there is my sister and I would like to have her back so I can deal with her myself!”
“Amora, I see you are still restless when it comes to stealth tactics,” Thor remarks. “But, yes, rest easy.  Now is the time to advance.”
“You know this plan of yours is going to get us killed,” Loki mentions.
“Yes, possibly,” Thor agrees.
“But I'm sure that's nothing new, right?” you add, trying to joke. Thor gives you a worried tight-lipped smile.
“Ahem...” Loki gestures for his handcuffs to be removed. “You still don't trust me, brother?”
“Would you?” Thor says defensively. Trust is not a well-used feature among your team, seeing as you were a rivalrous team. Thor doesn't trust Loki and seems to have some animosity towards Amora. And you don't trust Amora as far as you could throw her...
“No. I would not.” As quick as lightning, Loki stabs a hidden dagger into Thor's side and the God of Thunder tumbles down the hill as his traitor brother runs down after him.
What the f-?!
“No!” Amora cries. “Loki, what have you done?”
Your legs carry you as fast as you're able, wobbling down the crumbling hill after the trio of totally insane Asgardians.
“You really think I cared about Frigga?” Loki snarls at his brother. “About you or the Enchantress sisters? Any of you?” He brutally kicks Thor in the head while and carries on with his rant. “All I ever wanted was you and Odin dead at my feet!” It feels like you're having flashbacks as his rage comes out front and centre. Thor calls for his hammer but Loki cuts off his hand with his blade.
“THOR!” Amora cries out.
“LOKI!” You do the same. Thor clutches his missing hand with a roar as Amora runs to shield him from further harm. You grab Loki's arm to stop him from another attack, but he twists you around so you're facing Malekith. Loki whispers in your ear, “I love you. Please trust me.”
This wasn't real, then. You knew it had to be a ruse, but something about his whole performance is so believable, you couldn't help but buy it.
“Malekith! I am Loki of Jotunheim and I bring you a gift!” Loki shoves you hard to the ground. You look up to find the half-burned face of the monstrous Dark Elf himself.
“What of this woman prisoner?” he asks.
“Keep her for all I care. Retrieve the Aether from this girl and I ask only one thing in return: A good seat from which to watch Asgard burn.” “Wow, thanks, L. Nice to see you again, too.” The red-headed Lorelei pipes up from behind Malekith, bringing her pretty little head into view. “Leave me hanging like that? I see how it is.”
Malekith consults with his scary beast-friend that killed Frigga in a strange language, then directs his horrid attention to you. He raises a hand, and as you flinch, you start to float in the air, arms open wide, your Asgardian dress flowing in the winds that are picking up rapidly.
Something in you is lessening. You're feeling lighter, both physically and mentally. It's a miracle. You watch the dark red particle fluid pour out from your body. Once it's all out, thank the gods, you fall to the pebbly ground.
“Loki, now!” Thor shouts. His hand magically grows back. An illusion, of course! Mjolnir flies obediently to him and Loki runs to you, throwing himself over you as a human shield. Meanwhile, Thor and Amora use their combined powers to shoot at the vulnerable Aether still floating around in the air. There's an explosion of red, dust, and pieces of rock. It's completely destroyed, right?
Wrong.
The particles become even more of an unstoppable force, all coming together and propel themselves into Malekith! He looks a considerably darker now and evilly content with what has happened to him. The villain makes a gesture for his followers to regroup and leave, but Thor obviously has other plans for him.
However, Malekith's right-hand man detonates an otherworldly grenade directed at you to throw him off his attack. But Loki sees this and is first to shove you out of the way. It explodes into a black hole and starts to pull him in, and you think it's the end, this can't be the end! Luckily, Thor flies into him and saves him from peril just in time.
Now the brothers are furious.
Amora battles with the lowly Elves holding Lorelei back, while Thor finally takes his anger out on the beast that killed his mother. A large group of Elves have Loki surrounded and you're still on the ground, but start feeling your natural energy returning. It's so refreshing to have that wretched power out of you.
Loki stabs the shit out of the Elves like he was born for this very task and sees in his periphery that Thor is in deep trouble with his own assailant. Loki rushes to stab the beast up through the back.
Vengeance truly was his. Until-
It takes hold of Loki and stabs him in the heart!
Clear as day, you see the blade pierce through him and that's when your heart seems to stop working. Loki's eyes are wide with shock, as are yours with dread. Thor yells, but yours is the one that rings out far louder than the god's. The beast discards Loki to the ground as he now has no use for him. Although Loki is not quite done with his adversary.
“See you in Hel, monster.”
He had stealthily strapped a bomb to the monster, which explodes and sucks it into a momentary black hole. It vanishes from this world.
Loki shudders on the ground. You run to him tripping, stumbling, and heaving heavy sobs. You can't breathe. You can't breathe.
“No. No. Loki, NO!”  With both hands, you cup his face which is quickly turning grey-ish blue with death. “Please, no. It’s alright, Loki. You’re going to be okay.”
He takes your hand in his, looks deep into your eyes, and in a failing voice says, “I am okay.”
“Loki, why couldn't you just stay away?” you sob into his chest.
“I know. I'm sorry. I'm a fool. I'm a f-fool.”
“Stay with me, goddammit!” you yell.
“I'm sorry. I'm sorry,” he keeps repeating.
“Shhhh, don't.” Peace is slowly fading onto his face. Thor slowly and quietly has approached the scene. He speaks up.
“I will tell Father what you did here today.”
“I didn't do it for him.” Loki looks to Thor and then to you. The light from his eyes leaves him the very moment he says these words. Thor hollers to the sky and Amora embraces him to keep him calm while Lorelei has a grasp on his arm, which she pets.
You cry into Loki's chest, refusing to let go. A storm is headed your way, but you don't care.
Let it.
You don't know how much time passes, but eventually, though, Thor has to pull you off of Loki's lifeless body even with you screaming for him to let go of you. He carries you all the way back to the ship that brought you here.
“Listen to me carefully, (Y/N),” he tells you. “You must escort Lorelei back to Asgard. Amora and I will stop Malekith before he destroys the worlds.”
“But-”
“You must,” he insists. “Loki was right when he said you are strong in ways we will never know. Do this for Asgard and you will be rewarded.” You finally nod in agreement and realize you have helpful information for your friend.
“Thor. Find Jane. Jane Foster. If you find her you'll find Erik Selvig, and if anyone can stop something like this, it's him. It's them.”
Thor nods. He rests a hand on your shoulder for comfort, but you bring him in for a hug. You're pretty sure the Enchantress sisters make noises in the background. You part ways, ushering Lorelei to the ship for your journey back to the palace.
You're still in shock, which proves a quiet return. Quiet for you, anyway. Lorelei fills the silence with mindless chatter. You're still not mentally able to be present in the conversation. Although, you are able to register an eagle circling above. You didn't think anything could live in this world's environment. Maybe it's lost? Nevertheless, it follows you all the way home.
Home?
~
Part 28
Tag List: @gerardwayisapotato @theloneavenger1995 @magellan-88 @saraholdtheh972 @ha-tep @white-chocolate-mocha-fan @jemjem-chan @sagekoooon
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wrestlewriting · 7 years ago
Text
31 Little Wrestling Fics Challenge (October Wrestling Challenge)
Tagging: @running-ropes @tyferbebe @chasingeverybreakingwave @thegenericluchadora @theprestigious0ne @alexahood21 @castielscamander @spine-buster @heelturn-timesten @crookedmoonsaultpunk @nickysmum1909 @morgunsilver @wrasslin-rollins @morgancorbin @reigningambrollins @bbmbabe @allhailthe-demonking @rebelfleur22 @im-indestructible @heelstarla @sixdegreesofsamson @vixxyvampire @ihtscuddlesbeeetchx3 @valeonmars @pjanina13 @bolieve-that @therealfivefeetoffuckingfury @thewriterformerlytaggedas @fan-fiction-galore @songsofasirenqueen @sleeplessandcynical @thedeboniardevistation @thebadchic @cfloyd776 @spooky-spot-of-bother
Quote: 19. “Just focus on me. Everything will be fine.” 
Location: 1. Haunted House
Situation: 3. Trick or treating.
Supernatural element: 23. Stupidly accurate horoscope app
Finn Balor (this was my choice)
This is fluff. For not all spooky things need to be scary.
I hope you enjoy!!!
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“A rapid change is taking place in your life now, and it may be causing you some stress and worry. But isn’t this precisely the kind of change you figured you would need to resolve a few of your more pressing matters? Although this feels sudden and out of control, it will all fall into place rather quickly. And yes, this is exactly what you sought from the universe. It just seems to be taking place all at once, which can seem overwhelming. Just trust what you requested of the universe is unfolding, and let that be your comfort.”
Bennett was a smart girl, honestly. She didn’t believe everything she heard or read, not before doing her own research on the matter. She trusted science and knew better than to think her viewpoint was the only viewpoint.
That said, just for laughs, she always read her daily horoscope on an app on her phone. She didn’t put any faith in it, didn’t live her life by it, and if somehow it ever came true she just said ‘huh’ and moved on about her life. Most of the time, Bennett read it and decided it’s vagueness was a safe method to make it true for everyone.
The app she had downloaded was the highest rated. To her, that just meant it was the least-glitchy to use. The program, which included things like daily horoscopes and Chinese zodiac interpretations, was fun to flip through when she was bored.
And that’s how she found herself that morning. Well, not bored necessarily. But alone in the living room, a cup of coffee in her one hand, the TV on quietly projecting the local morning news. She’d already been through Facebook, Instagram, Twitter…the usual suspects for mindless morning activities before getting ready for work.
Her horoscope for the day made her smirk. What rapid change? This was the steadiest her life had ever been, ever. Six months ago, she had married Finn. He was regularly on the road wrestling, but even that had settled into a routine. He was gone, typically, the same days of the week, unless there was an overseas tour. And Bennett worked Monday through Friday at one of the local elementary schools as the secretary.
Everything was smooth sailing for them at this time. She knew it probably wouldn’t last entirely, because life, but she was going to enjoy it while she could.
Finn didn’t like her ‘horoscope commitment’ as he called it. He thought it was all hokey and cheesy, a true waste of time. Even though she wasn’t taking it seriously, he still felt she could do without it altogether. It probably didn’t help that she regularly read him his own predictions without prompting.
Putting down her phone and coffee, she stood up and stretched out her body. She needed to start getting ready for the day. Heading back upstairs, she quietly went back into the bedroom, where Finn was still partially under the covers, asleep. She went into the attached bathroom, shutting the door after herself.
By the time she’d finished showering, did her hair and makeup, and put on the clothes she’d laid out for herself the night before,  Finn was no longer in the bed.
Downstairs she found him in the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee. He was dressed in just low-slung gym shorts, his hair messy. Just-woken-up-Finn was one of her top five favorite versions of her husband, honestly.
“Morning babe,” she greeted as she walked past him, her hand gliding across his lower back, a short kiss going to his shoulder.
“Mornin’,” he mumbled, clearly still trying to come to terms with being up for the day. Bennett smirked to herself, going into the living room to retrieve her phone and cup from earlier. Back in the kitchen, she went about putting her lunch together and getting her work bag from the nearby table. By the time she set the items on the counter, Finn appeared more awake.
“Horoscope today told me big changes are coming for me. So today should be momentous,” Bennett solemnly said, before a wide grin took over her face. She knew exactly what she was doing.
“You, need help,” Finn declared, shaking his head briefly, before sipping at his cup.
“Let’s see what you need to be focused on today,” she decided happily, her attention going to her phone.
“Benn, baby, please, no,” he all but whined.
“AHEM,” Bennett dramatically cleared her throat. “‘You are finally about to get something you have wanted. But now that it is close, you may feel another option that was less desirable is actually the better choice. Sometimes making a difficult decision can be as easy as seeing the best choice taken away. Only then does desperation kick in, and you recognize what’s really important to you. That may be the case now, Leo, and you must act quickly if you want to change direction. It is not too late to change your mind, and your path,’” Bennett read from her phone. When she was done, she looked up to meet Finn’s gaze. He was leaned over the counter now, his mug between both his hands. Neither said a word at first until Bennett raised her eyebrows and made a ‘what about that’-type face at him, which caused him to laugh.
“You got any big decision to be makin’?”
“Not that I can think of, no,” Finn humored her. “And even then, it would be ‘bout work most likely.”
“…mmhmm…” Bennett replied suspiciously, narrowing her eyes at him briefly. Finn rolled his own, not suppressing a bemused smile to go along with the action. “Well, whatever it is, I guess it’s out of your hands now.”
“Apparently,” he chuckled. Bennett came around the corner, leaning over to meet him in a kiss. “You’ll be home ‘bout 4, yea?”
“That’s the plan,” she confirmed, kissing him again, before going to pick up her bags from the counter. “I told Harper to bring the kids here around 6.”
“Got it.”
“Did you decide on your costume for the night?”
“…sure.” Bennett leveled a look at him, to which he raised one hand in a pacifying manner. “It’ll be sorted before the night, I promise.”
“It better be. The kids are super excited for this,” she said.
“Never done somethin’ like this before, so it’ll be interestin’ for sure,” Finn agreed.
Sometimes Bennett forgot that many of the US traditions and customs weren’t world-widely accepted and that Finn didn’t do these kinds of things growing up.
Which made the plan for the night even more fun, honestly. Getting to see him experience new things for the first time, sharing things with him that Bennett loved doing, was cool, to say the least. And Halloween was her absolute favorite holiday and they didn’t get to spend it together often.
Bennett and Finn had arranged to take her niece and nephew to a local shopping center where the stores were doing trick-or-treating for Halloween. Also in the plaza was a pop-up haunted house, which had five separate ‘houses’ within it.
Bennett adored her niece and nephew, of ages 9 and 11 years old, respectively. Their younger sister, only 5 years old, wasn’t coming on the excursion.
Jessa, in true middle child fashion, was the most vocal. Jordan, he played the stoic big brother role perfectly when he chose to.
They were both smart, intuitive, honest. It was sometimes to a fault, but endearing, after the fact.
And they loved their Uncle Finn. When Bennett had initially said she wanted to take the kids to the event, Finn had been the one to point out Halloween fell on a day he’d be home this year. After clearing the matter with her sister, who was honestly more than happy to not have to handle the two rambunctious kids on a holiday made for chaos, the plan had been set.
Both Jessa and Jordan had shrieked and tackled them when told they’d be doing trick-or-treating with their Aunt and Uncle, and also going to haunted houses. Honestly, Bennett couldn’t remember seeing them so excited before. And she was beyond ready for the awesome night to happen as well.
“OK, well, get your rest today. Chasing those two around is gonna be a lot of work,” Bennett advised, kissing him once again as she took out her car keys.
“I’ll consider it my cardio for the day,” Finn decided, making her laugh. “Love you, beautiful.”
“Love you,” she echoed before turning and leaving the house. Now all she had to do was survive Halloween in an elementary school for the day.
Bennett finally made it home, almost an hour after the time she had intended to. There had been two car accidents, and general bad traffic, holding her up on her commute.
She hated feeling rushed, but now she had no choice but to be.
While in traffic, she’d called Finn and told him to start getting ready and she would be home as soon as she could. Finn had been calm and relaxed about the matter, assuring her it would all be OK and they had plenty of time for the night.
He was, as always, the calm to her storm.
Bennett didn’t even spare a glance as she tossed her bags onto the kitchen counter, set on getting ready in her costume. She had less than an hour, and she knew her hair alone would take up half that time.
“Babe! Where are you?”
“In here,” Finn’s voice came from the living room. Bennett walked quickly in there, prepared to see him not at all ready for the night.
What she found standing before her, however, was anything but.
“Oh…oh…my fucking…FINN.” Bennett couldn’t finish a thought as she was having a hundred of them at once as she took in Finn’s appearance.
Starting at the top, his dark hair was gone, covered by a bald cap. He had on a black T-shirt, the large white lettering on it proudly displaying ‘Gallows & Anderson’ among other words. And his bottom half was adorned in black tights, the strange face-mask-with-swords logo clear on his thighs. His right arm even had drawings across it, imitating tattoos.
“Hey,” Finn greeted her with a nod of his head.
Her laughter was immediate and loud.
“Come ‘ere, and Too Sweet me,” he requested, holding his hand up, his American accent something special to hear.
Bennett was holding onto the back of the couch, shaking with hysterics, definitely unable to do anything he had just requested.
“Finn, oh…what the… hell?” She finally got out words between her laughs. Finn was just smiling brightly at her, clearly proud of himself.
“What? Told ya I had a costume worked out,” he stated, speaking back in his normal voice. Bennett managed to take in a few deep breaths, her laughter subsiding, but the bemused look on her face still just as strong.
“You look ridiculous,” she declared. Finn dramatically gasped, putting his hand on his heart.
“How dare you! I’m tellin’ Karl you said that,” he replied.
“Oh, I didn’t say Karl looks ridiculous. This look works for him. It’s you that this is a special kind of special for,” Bennett explained, waving her hand to indicate the costume. Finn looked down at himself, before shrugging his shoulders and looking back to her.
“It’s actually kinda nice wearin’ clothes.”
“I’m gonna have to strongly disagree with you.” Bennett wiggled her eyebrows, which made Finn laugh. “OK, this has been entertaining, and I know the rest of the family will say the same. But now it’s time for me to go get ready.”
“Can’t wait to see.”
“Oh, you have no idea,” she teased, before turning and quickly going upstairs.
Bennett had decided on her costume just last week, but it had been easy enough to put together, given a couple of the items were already in their house.
As she had predicted, doing her hair took the longest, followed by her make-up. The outfit was simple enough, something she could just slide into.
By the time she was done, her sister had texted stating they were on their way. As her family lived only a town over, she knew they would be there rather quickly.
Glancing over herself once more in the floor length mirror, she fluffed her hair and headed back downstairs to where she’d left Finn in the living room.
Bennett’s red heels clicked along their wooden floor as she came around the couch and stood in front of it, allowing Finn to take in her whole look.
And he was definitely taking it in, his eyes widening as they scanned over every inch of her. Her legs were encased in leather-look skintight leggings, her upper half covered with a black leather jacket. Her red-tinted hair was partially pinned up, but full of curls.
With a rehearsed confidence, Bennett trailed her hands down the lapels of the leather jacket slowly, before pulling it open, revealing her torso, which was covered in tight black material as well, a belt high on her waist.
“Tell me about it, stud,” she purred out, shifting her weight to one leg, cocking her hip just a bit.
“Damn, baby,” Finn finally spoke.
“Wanna see the best part?” He nodded quickly. Bennett smiled, and with a purposeful step, turned herself so her back was facing him, revealing the Balor Club logo embroidered on the back of her leather jacket.
“That is…amazin’,” he confirmed, with an awed-sounding laugh following his words. “…shit. You’re so hot.”
“If you’re good, maybe tonight you can meditate in my direction,” Bennett offered cheekily, turning back around to face him. Finn laughed outright, standing up to come to her. His arm slid around her waist, his hand pressing into the small of her back, bringing her body against his.
“I love you, ya know that?”
“Heard it a few times. Always nice to hear it more,” she whispered, as he came closer to put his lips to hers. “Lipstick.”
“Don’t care.” And he didn’t apparently, as he kissed her thoroughly.
The doorbell ringing, followed by the door opening, and little feet hitting the entrance way broke them apart quickly.
“AUNT NETTIE!” Jessa’s voice carried very easily through the house. Bennett and Finn stepped back from each other, turning to watch as the small zombie came barreling into the room. Dressed in a tattered and shredded black shirt, which was over equally tattered leggings, she looked like she’d been through the wringer. Her hair was in frizzed out pigtails, her face made-up to appear paler, with various bloody cuts and scrapes on her exposed skin.
The costume didn’t surprise Bennett one bit. Her niece was into gore and horror, as much as any 9 year old should be allowed to be. Her sister and brother-in-law did their best to not expose the girl to anything too terrible, but Jessa was a fearless little soul and found it all fascinating.
It took her a moment to realize the beat up t-shirt was a Bullet Club t-shirt. It made her grin internally.
“Look at you! You look amazing!” Bennett praised her niece as she came over, hugging her to her waist. “I love it, Jessie!”
“You look so pretty,” the little girl told her aunt. “And Uncle Finn, you look silly.”
“Thanks, kid,” Finn replied with a laugh, as Jessa giggled going to also hug him in greeting. “Nice shirt.”
“Hey everyone,” Harper greeted, entering the room.
“Where’s the other one?”
“Oh, you mean your husband?”
“What?” Bennett questioned, confused and almost concerned.
And then Jordan came into view and her jaw dropped.
He was Finn. Well, dressed like Finn Bálor, essentially.
On his head rested the headdress of red and black dangling fabrics. His face was painted, blacks and reds and whites, the illusion of teeth over his mouth.
Instead of being in wrestling gear, however, he had on one of Finn’s t-shirts, which had the simplistic design of also the white fangs. He was in black shorts, but his legs were mostly covered in shin pads. The pads had the teeth design on the knee, with red flames coming up his calves.
Bennett was truly speechless at first.
“Did you…did you know about this?” she finally questioned Finn.
“Where do you think he got some of the stuff?” Finn retorted with a laugh. “We have had this planned for weeks.”
“Yep,” Jordan confirmed, as he and Finn Two-Sweeted one another.
“Time. Out,” Bennett demanded. “So you’re telling me, you planned all of this with him? And Jessa’s shirt? Also on purpose?”
“Exactly,” Finn concurred with a wink. “It was actually Jordan’s idea that started the whole thing.”
Bennett looked down at her nephew, who was just staring back at her straight-faced. She assumed he was trying his hardest to play the part of ‘The Demon’.
“But…you didn’t know I was gonna be wearing your jacket? You didn’t know my costume!”
“…or did I?” Finn challenged, his tone mischievous.
And at that, it all clicked into place. Bennett’s eyes flashed to her sister’s, who was already grinning cheekily.
“Harper!”
“Oh come off it. This is adorable. And I know how excited you were for tonight, and how much you love Halloween, and I thought it would just be really special for you to have your family together as a unit.”
Bennett had no argument to that. And in fact, she was trying her hardest to keep the tears at bay, touched deeply at how much her family did for tonight to be so memorable.
“Alright! Let’s get some super awesome pictures that I’m highly tempted to use as my Christmas card, and send you all on your way!” Harper proclaimed.
The following half hour felt like a professional photo shoot. Pictures were taken of every possible combination of person; some serious, some silly. Bennett’s favorites she already knew would be of her and Finn with both the kids.
Bálor Club, represent.
“Is it time for the haunted houses?” Jessa asked for what felt like the hundredth time. From the moment they’d arrived at the shopping center, it was all she had been excited for. She enjoyed getting candy, as any kid did, but she really wanted to go see the horror show up close.
“Let’s first put your guys’ stuff in the car, and then yes, it is haunted house time,” Bennett explained, causing the little girl to cheer.
The trick-or-treating had been fun, and their group had received many looks and comments. Most of the comments came from little kids and their fathers, but some of the women present also understood the reference. That made Bennett happy.
After dropping off their items in the car, the group headed over to the haunted house storefront, standing in line to pay their admission. Once inside the large space, it was sensory overload. There were people everywhere, many in costume, and it was hard to tell who was visiting and who worked there. Along the perimeter were the entrances to the various houses, all having different themes.
“Where to first, guys?” Finn asked. Jordan just shrugged.
“I want…that one!” Jessa finally decided, pointing to the entrance that was directly in the middle. The outside façade of the maze was decorated with a large Crystal Ball, tarot cards, and glittering silver lights throughout. As they walked closer, there were also hands palm up painted on the wood, along with actual fake hands hanging. A couple swords were also present.
“Let’s do this then,” Bennett declared. “Before we go in though, you two need to stay with us, OK?” Both of the children nodded in understanding. Bennett wasn’t very worried about them wandering off, they’d been great about it all night. But she also knew how excited Jessa was, and sometimes excitement overrode common sense and safety.
As they wandered through the house, there were some jump-scares, and some creepy scenes to look at. But Bennett knew there was going to be the big thing at some point.
What she hadn’t expected was to be stopped at a room by a ‘guard’, who told them to wait. After a minute, he told them to enter the last room and “behold the wisdom of the woman prophet”.
The room they entered was dimly light, with fabrics draped all along. There were various objects tacked to the walls, creepy pictures, actual skulls, bloodied tarot cards. Candles were flickering throughout the space.
“Welcome, my children.” The woman was seated a table in the dead center of the room, dressed in typical ‘fortune teller’ fashion. Her clothes were flowing, various bits of jewelry on every part of her body possible. The table in front of her was covered in a rich fabric, a ball sitting in front of her. Beside it sat a clean deck of tarot cards, and on the other side, crystals and small vials of unknown things.
“Please, come closer,” the woman requested. Jessa didn’t even hesitate, and Bennett followed her. Jordan, who had repeatedly declared throughout the house how ‘dumb’ he found it, remained to the side with Finn.
“Please, tell me, what do you wish to know about?” But instead of waiting for Jessa to speak, the woman held up one of her hands sternly. “No, never mind. I do not need you to tell me, for the universe is telling me what you must know now.” She looked down at her ball, moving her hands around it. It lit up at her action, and Bennett had to appreciate the effects.
“Your existence is about to change,” the older woman stated, her gaze going from the crystal ball to Bennett’s face. “You’re going to bring more into this world.”
“OK?” Bennett laughed out.
“You, my dear, are made of the stars and the seas, of the heavens and the lands, and you are powerful in your finite existence. You are made to make, to extend, to expand, to create.” The women paused, making sure her eyes were with Bennett’s. “You are made to make something within in you that will change so many lives.”
Bennett looked at the woman for a moment longer, before turning to look at Finn who was already looking back at her with eyebrows raised.
“I bet you have a part in this, somehow,” she said, with a crooked smile. “You’re always involved in my biggest moments somehow.”
“What can I say darlin’, I’m here to assist,” Finn replied, with a short smirk.
“Wait, you have something in you? Like a baby?” Jessa asked, and Bennett’s head whipped around, her wide-eyes meeting her niece’s. “‘Cause that would be kinda cool.”
“I hope it’s a boy. I’m sick of being outnumbered in the family,” Jordan declared, crossing his arms over his chest. “Right, Uncle Finn?”
“Uh….” Your husband seemed just as surprised at the turn of the conversation as you were.
“Alright, cool, thanks,” Bennett diverted everyone’s attention, nodding towards the woman. “I think we are done here. Cool house. Nice work.”
“…this is not something to be ignored or belittled,” the woman replied sternly. “Embrace this, enjoy this. You are about to be everything you should be.”
“…wanna go to the next house?” Bennett didn’t even acknowledge the woman’s words, focusing only on Jordan.
“Yes, please,” he replied. And with that, she and Finn ushered the children through the last door, coming back out onto the open floor of the building.
“Aunt Nettie, are you pregnant?” Jessa asked directly.
“Not that I’m aware of,” Bennett answered flippantly.
“Can we help name the baby?” Her niece further questioned.
“There is no baby to name.”
“But what if there is? That lady seemed pretty sure,” Jordan argued, outnumbering Bennett in the conversation. She looked to Finn for help, but he too looked at a loss as to what to say.
“Listen, that woman, she is paid to act and spook us. That doesn’t mean what she says is real.”
“…OK.” Jordan conceded.
“Alright, so next house?” Finn finally spoke up, clapping his hands together. Jessa agreed enthusiastically, and Jordan chose for them to go through one that looked incredibly dark and gory.        
They went through the rest of the houses, which were far more outwardly scary, full of clowns and serial killers and weapons.
But for Bennett, that first house remained the most memorable and jarring.
Four days later, Bennett found herself feeling like total junk, spending her Saturday in bed. She’d been sick early that morning but hadn’t since. She just felt tired and achy and unhappy all around.
When her phone rang, she threw an arm out to grab it from nearby.
“Yo,” she grumbled.
“Still feeling crappy?” Harper asked.
“I’m just…tired and I hurt and I wanna sleep but I feel like shit so I can’t fall asleep.”
“Sounds like the flu.”
“Great,” Bennett sighed, readjusting her head on her pillow.
“OR maybe you're pregnant.”
“…shut up.”
“What? The symptoms are similar, and that fortune teller did tell you…”
“Stop,” Bennett demanded. “You are ridiculous.”
“Don’t ignore that woman’s wise words. She said you are to make something within you.”
“Right now all I’m making in me is more barf probably.”
“Gross, Bennie.”
“You started it, Harpie.” Her older sister just sighed.
“Listen, I’m about to go grocery shopping. So I’ll bring some stuff over for you, ginger ale, Pepto, all that stuff, OK?”
“You are the greatest.”
“I know.” They said their goodbyes, and Bennett put the phone down beside her again. She curled into the pillow, letting out a long breath as she closed her eyes. She just wanted to sleep away this awfulness.
Bennett woke up, confused in her groggy state. The bedroom was darker than when she last remembered it being. After a moment of blinking and coming around, she grabbed around on the bed until she picked up her phone. The time read several hours from the last she saw.
She had a few texts from Finn, and one from Harper.
The ones from Finn were sending her love and well-wishes, telling her to sleep and rest and call him when she had a chance.
Harper’s was a bit longer. It explained she had stopped over but Bennett had been asleep, so she had let her be. She detailed the food and drinks she’d left downstairs. It stated she had left medicine on the bedside table for her as well.
At that, Bennett looked up and did find various stomach and digestive aids.
But amongst all that was a very obvious box, a picture of a stick clear as day across the front.
She texted her sister back, simply writing ‘Really?”. Harper’s response was just an emoji thumbs up.
Bennett stared at the box for many minutes, eventually getting up and grabbing it. She realized there were three tests in the box. It was like her sister knew she’d need several attempts at this, almost like she’d done the same thing with Jordan.
She reread the simple instructions several times before taking the first test. She needed to know exactly what to do, what to look for. Bennett wouldn’t chance doing this wrong or misinterpreting the results.
After taking the first test, she waited ten minutes and took the second.
And then she waited several, jittery, anxious, stressful hours, before taking the third and last.
By that time, it was well into the night. And in the darkness of her bedroom, she finally called her sister.
“They are all positive!”
“I KNEW IT!” Harper exclaimed. “Man, you need to go back and tip that fortune teller lady or something.”
“Harper, shut up,” Bennett commanded, her feelings keeping her from seeing any lightness in the moment. “…these could be wrong though, right?”
“That’s rare anymore,” her sister disagreed. “The first time I got pregnant I said the same thing, but my doctor told me typically positive is positive for at home tests. There’s always a chance but if it walks like a duck, and quacks like a duck….”
“It’s a dog in disguise?”
“Nice try,” Harper replied with a laugh. “Oh, man Bennie! You’re pregnant! I’m finally gonna be an Aunt!”
“…I’m not…sure what to do? What to feel? What to say? Oh god, should I tell Finn right now? We weren’t planning for this! OH SHIT. This is gonna throw so much out of whack.”
“Hey, breathe,” her sister advised. “You both want kids, and that’s what matters. You’ll figure it out. Yea, it’ll probably be a bit harder given his work, but there is nothing the two of you can’t get through together.”
“…I just…”
“It’s a lot.”
“SO MUCH,” Bennett corrected. “Shit. Fuck. I’m probably pregnant.”
“Most likely definitely.”
“I just…I’m gonna eat something and go to bed, and handle this tomorrow.”
“OK.” Harper offered no argument, knowing her sister’s usual style of handling large changes involved time for her initial emotions to subside. “Call if you need anything.”
“Will do.” After saying their ‘I love yous’ and ‘goodbyes’, Bennett sent a quick text to Finn telling him she was still feeling ill and was gonna sleep more. She knew it was a bit of a coward’s move to not tell him right away, but she wanted to make peace with the matter before telling him.
Finn had wanted to wait until he was off the road to have kids. Which was OK, in some ways, as Bennett was five years younger than him. But she had no desire to be a 40 year-old-first-time mom, either. Biological clock, and life logistics, and all that.
She knew he didn’t want to miss things, wanted to be a truly present father. But she saw how things were managed by Karl and his family, and knew it wasn’t necessarily needed to be a good family.
Of course, Bennett also knew she was not really like Karl’s wife, and she wasn’t sure she could handle raising a baby the majority of the time on her own. She was far more high-strung than Finn was, and she knew she would need him to be around to be the level-headed parent. Because if there was one thing she knew from watching her sister and being an aunt, it was that things tended to get naturally crazy with kids.
Bennett decided it was time to just put herself to bed. She didn’t want to overthink the situation anymore and decided she needed to tell Finn when he was face-to-face with her.
Sleep didn’t come easily, so Bennett found herself doing her usual; mindlessly playing around on her phone. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter…the same routine as always. And eventually, she came to the horoscope app.
“Something wonderful is beginning to bloom for you now, Gemini. You may be wondering if this is a quirk of fate or a coincidence. But don’t start questioning and dissecting this gift from the universe. If you become cynical or doubtful, you won’t get the full effect of this auspicious happening. If you are receiving a blessing, then the universe has deemed you worthy of it. So enjoy the hopeful, positive vibes you are feeling, embrace the goodness, smile, and be grateful.”
Bennett shut her phone off without a second thought and tossed it away from herself onto the bed.
There was no way….
It was Tuesday morning, and Finn was due home sometime that afternoon after his usual travel and work days.
Yesterday morning she’d called her doctor, who had told her the same thing her sister had, that at home tests were incredibly accurate. He made her an initial appointment for that Thursday to get an idea of where she was at in her pregnancy.
Bennett had chosen to take the day off from work, her emotions far too amped up about Finn returning and the situation for her to be at work.
Every conversation she’d had with Finn from Sunday until now, had been odd. She knew it, and she knew he knew it. She wanted to tell him, she did, but she also thought it would be nice to have him come home to the surprise.
Bennett had scoured the internet, accepting and rejecting ideas every minute on cute ways to tell him about their expanding family. Finally, she’d settled on something fall themed and cute. So she’d spent all Sunday going to stores and pumpkin patches until she was able to secure two large pumpkins and a tiny one to her liking.
The plan was to hollow out one of the bigger pumpkins, then cut a heart in the front, placing the smaller pumpkin in it. It was meant to allude to a ‘pregnant pumpkin’. The saying that people usually used with it was ‘We’re adding another pumpkin to our patch’. Bennett loved it. But now came the task of actually doing it.
Bennett had never been as good with art and creativity as her sister. Harper could easily create things: paintings, gifts, crafts. Bennett, though, had to put all her concentration and focus possible into the task at hand, and even then, they never looked as good as they should.
Making the little sign with orange paint about their growing pumpkin patch was easy enough. Her writing wasn’t the greatest, but even she thought it was cute.
It quickly became clear, however, that her bad luck streak of craft creation was going strong. She’d managed to hollow out the pumpkin just fine, but she’d messed up on cutting out the front. In an effort to correct the heart, it had become lopsided. And then in an effort to correct that, she’d essentially cut out the entire front side of the pumpkin, with barely the top part of the heart obvious.
It was more like a…blob. It looked weird. It did not look like the picture she was using for inspiration. It looked dumb by comparison. She knew upon seeing it Finn would not know what it was supposed to be.
Why hadn’t she bought more pumpkins? She knew she wasn’t great at this stuff, she should have gotten backups for screw-ups. Looking at the clock on the microwave, she realized she didn’t have time to go out and get another pumpkin. Finn was due home soon. He had texted her before she’d started carving that his plane had just landed.
She tried really hard to not let the tears welling in her eyes fall down her cheeks.
Feeling defeated and frustrated, she just sat at the kitchen counter, staring at her pumpkins. There had to be a way to salvage this?
It was a frantic internet search later when Bennett realized she definitely wasn’t saving face here. But she could at least hopefully, maybe, still use the sign to tell him? 
Better than nothing.
Except when she heard the garage door open and watched Finn walk into the kitchen with his bags minutes later, she hated every idea she had. This was supposed to be something big, magical, meaningful…and a little crappy painted sign wasn’t that.
“Oh hey, pumpkin carving? Why didn’t you wait for me?” he asked, putting his bags down near the wall, coming over to her. He put his arm around her waist, kissing her temple, securing her against his side. With Bennett sitting on the stool, she just about at his height.
“This wasn’t for fun,” she explained.
“…OK?” Finn’s confusion was evident in his tone.
“I just…I wanted to surprise you and have something cute and memorable and I just…I fucked it up so bad. This was supposed to be this really cool, special moment, and I just ruined the most important pumpkin!” Bennett was trying to keep her emotions in check, but she was failing miserably.
“Hey, baby,” Finn stated, his fingers squeezing her side, his other hand coming up to turn her face towards his. “Just focus on me. Everythin’ will be fine. Whatever this is, it isn’t that big of a deal.”
“YES, IT IS!” Bennett argued, turning from him abruptly, causing his arm to fall down to his side. “You literally have no idea how big this is!”
“…ok?”
Bennett pushed off from the counter and got off the stool, walking around to where the other pumpkins sat, picking up the sign and the tiniest pumpkin. She kept the sign facing her, and with a deep breath, she walked back towards Finn. He was just watching her curiously as she stopped a foot away from him.
“Surprise,” she whispered, turning the sign around, holding the little pumpkin beside it in the palm of her hand.
Bennett waited with baited breath as Finn read her writing. At first, he seemed to not have any reaction, which made her feel even worse that her entire idea had fallen apart. This whole cute, sweet moment was ruined, and now she would have to explain to him everything.
But then, his eyes got huge and he looked directly at her.
“Benn…we…you…” He seemed unable to form words. “Bennett, oh my god. We’re having a baby?”
“Looks that way,” she replied, smiling slightly.
And the next thing she knew she was in his arms, her feet off the ground as he lifted her up. She barely managed to get her arms out to the side so as not to smash the sign or pumpkin against him.
“We’re having a BABY! Oh my god, this is awesome! I love you so much, you know that?” Finn was basically rambling as he held her against himself, causing her to giggle.
It was amazing how her failed plan no longer seemed important given his reaction. What mattered wasn’t how she told him, but them, their relationship, their family.
“This is, like, for sure, you know?” Finn asked, leaning back as he held her so he could see her face.
“Three tests positive,” Bennett affirmed. “We have a doctor’s appointment on Thursday to get the official word on the matter and how far along I am.”
“You, you are gonna be an amazing mum, ya know that?”
“Says the man practically molded to be the coolest dad alive,” she teased in response, causing a small blush to come to his face. She loved getting that kind of reaction from him. “This is…gonna be hard.”
“It’ll be work,” Finn corrected, setting her back on her feet, loosening his hold on her but not letting her go entirely. “But it’ll be the best kind of work. There’s no one else I would do this with than ya. I know my job doesn’t make it easy on ya…but I will be here every single solitary second I can through everythin’.”
“I know,” Bennett assured. She wanted to reach up and touch him, but her hands were still occupied with the sign and pumpkin. “…you’re gonna be a DILF.” Finn’s laughter was instant and loud.
“OK, then you’re Queen of the MILFs,” he replied, making her grin more. The humor fell to the wayside as they just gazed at one another, smiling. “Shit, I love ya, Bennett. Love ya more than anything.”
“I love you too,” she repeated back.
“Does anyone else know?”
“Just Harper.” Bennett went on to explain to Finn the events of the last few days, how her feeling ill had turned into pregnancy. When she mentioned Harper’s comments about the fortune teller from the haunted house, he huffed a laugh.
“Ya know, your silly horoscopes have been pretty in line with this too. Maybe you’ve been on to something all along. Maybe the supernatural does exist and the universe has been telling you all along what’s goin’ on.”
“…shut up,” she replied to his teasing, even though inside she was realizing how right he was. The more she thought about it, the more weirded out and amazed she became, so she stopped thinking about it.
“Can we tell my parents?”
“Well, yea,” Bennett answered coming out of her thoughts, as Finn finally released her. She immediately set the sign and pumpkin down on the counter. “I mean, we could wait until the doctor on Thursday to be sure. But that’s up to you.”
“…we have to tell them now.” His decision didn’t surprise her one bit. “And let’s use this stuff,” he motioned to indicate the items on the counter. “It’s cute. My mum will like it.”
Bennett’s heart swelled a bit at that. He was so sweet to make her think her little surprise wasn’t stupid.
Using the wonders of the internet and FaceTime, telling Finn’s parents about their news was super fun. They’d started the conversation normally enough, but Bennett just happened to pick up the tiny pumpkin. Finn had followed suit holding the sign.
His mom had cried, and his dad had beamed. They weren’t first-time grandparents by any means, but given this was their first grandchildren from Finn seemed to mean a lot to them.
After all of that, Bennett was exhausted. Today had been a rollercoaster of emotion. She wasn’t at all remorseful at deciding to go to bed by 8PM. Finn came with her, but she knew he wasn’t tired, and instead just didn’t want to be far from her.
He was going to be the most protective husband throughout this pregnancy, and she wasn’t complaining.
They went through their night time routines, before finally settling into bed together. Bennett decided to wind down doing her routine on her phone. Facebook, Instagram, Twitter. It was always the same.
And then came the horoscope app.
Given her current situation, she was almost hesitant at opening it. But curiosity won out, and she found herself scanning the words on the screen almost hungrily.
“You may be so focused on making something perfect today that you are missing out on all the magic that already exists. You are like an artist who just can’t walk away from a beautiful painting without putting on a few last brush strokes. But if you go too far, you may miss the forest for the trees. Take some time to quietly observe what you see, and relish what you already have. You are very lucky and very blessed, and recognizing that is the final step in finding true perfection.”
Bennett sighed, and with a small smile, closed out of the app.
Stupid horoscopes.
But not really.
Thank you to @thewriterformerlytaggedas & @fan-fiction-galore for allowing me to be apart of this and believing in me!
Thank you so very much to @chasingeverybreakingwave & @running-ropes & @spine-buster& @therealfivefeetoffuckingfury & anyone else who has provided support/love/inspiration/comfort/a-listening-ear-as-I-had-breakdowns/ideas/etc. over this story. The struggle got really real, but we made it.
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deepstheeskimo · 4 years ago
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What’s a ‘gym’?
What a day. 
Went back to the gym for the first time since Locky-D and even got a lie in because its not 24 hour any more. Deeps and his bucket full of underlying health conditions seems to have just about navigated the pandemic so far without ending up on a respirator or a hospital floor like those videos from Spain, one of which would have probably been the case due to my shadow of an immune system. 
Trying to take on COVID would be its version of when Moe dresses up all smart but ends up marching across the whole stage into the ‘rejects’ section.
Anyway, mask and antibac at the ready I turned up at opening time (to see less people and to ensure at least semi-clean equipment), joining the 15 or so others in the queue. Can only describe it as being like Chinese seaweed - a strange and unexpected success. 
Obvious changes have been made but I didn’t foresee the banning of spotting, that, ahem, ‘PTs’ would constantly clean equipment or that there would be ample antibac and disinfectant. Sadly there were security tags attached to these bottles at which I’m going to stoically let out a long slow sigh rather than react to by showing a middle finger to everyone I meet. What kind of horrible little mob of people (no way we deserve the word ‘society’) have we become that this would be necessary? Shame.
The decision to close whole walls of lockers instead of binning off multiple spaced columns of these to provide a social distance also seemed questionable but whatever. I trust the science all right, just got no faith in how its enacted as policy. The way that this most recent lockdown has been handled within hours of Eid al-Adha shows that yet again. Ah shocker, Plato right again and I’ve ended up back discussing how blinkered and unthinking this country has become. Must stop that.
Other news: no bugger else used the showers post-workout but I was more than happy to make the place reek like refresher shower gel. Used one of my microfibre towels for the first time since March and I’m happy to report it seemed to not have put on any lockdown lard. Hope it hasn’t been doing favours for Joe Wicks on the side...
Also saw some of the old characters: lil duracell bunny girl running on the same treadmill as ever, wide eyed guy who always looks like you’ve just caught him up to something he shouldn’t be and of course, the guy that looks like he’s out a video game. This guy is amazing. About 6′3, stupid stacked and more ripped than a yellow pages on an episode of Guinness World Records. Always fully colour coordinated clothing with brilliant skin, amazing trim (shaved apart from the top - dyed blonde), great teeth and covered in tattoos. No wonder he strips to his tiny white Y-fronts in the changing rooms to look at himself in the mirror for a good twenty minutes after each session. He also hairdryers his entire body but never showers. Perhaps taking more performance enhancing drugs than a Soviet deadlifter impacts more than your muscle definition.
I wonder what they and the new guy (I’m calling him ‘very serious fella wearing a shirt that reads KOREA ARMY’) all thought of ‘wheezy kid that only ever wears Adidas’ today as I took on my cable machine? I don’t care really because I loved it. Every second. Such a buzz to be back because as much as I’ve exercised every day, kept up the running and made the best of it, I frankly don’t have a cable machine or a squat rack in this one bedroom flat. My mental health took many an elbow to the temple during the heavier lockdown period and losing the gym hit me. It’s been the way I begin my daily routine every single weekday for about three years*. Who cares about some Citroen Saxo lad’s fortnightly Nando’s in comparison to that?
It’s also meant less ability to release the pent up frustrations of days of Zoom, electronic head-pecking and mindless spreadsheets that are finished off by a nice dose of Krishnan on Da News showing the latest inatalment of What A Selfish, Backward Bunch Of Bucktoothed Yokels We Are. 
Argh, ok that’s the third time I’ve discussed it. Enough.
*and I’ve gone for years longer than that too, but I’m not properly counting them because I used to finish those sessions off with a stroll to get a Costa Creamy Cooler or 4 pack of Greggs sausage rolls. Oof.
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bawrao · 7 years ago
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TEDx
Gather round, everybody, gather round, and let Creebs tell you a story. It’s a wonderful story, that’s for sure. One that I probably shouldn’t be telling with such pride, but here I am telling it anyways. Are you guys familiar with TED? The whole ‘Ideas worth sharing’ thing? Those guys who do the fancy talks that people listen to when they want to be reminded of the fact that there’s nothing stopping them from achieving greatness, and that they really have no excuse to be sitting on their couch at 3 in the morning with a jar of pickles and a box of frozen corn dogs that they’re sucking on and slowly letting thaw in their mouth. *ahem* So anyways, TEDx is basically the mini-version of a TED conference. I happened to be invited along to such an event because I’m an important person, and of course Blanketguy tagged along because I was allowed a plus one and Blue Plumbogummite was having a spa treatment on the day. I’m sure you can imagine the chaos that would ensue from having Blanketguy at a TEDx conference, but amazingly I’ve very little of an idea as to what he actually got up to. We were separated early on into the event when I got in the line for a coffee and he just wandered off. Once I finally had my drink (which they had written the name ‘Gleebs’ on the cup), I realised Blanketguy was missing, and went off to search for him. I couldn’t find him anywhere on the ground floor, so I concluded that he must have gone backstage to cause some chaos in true Blanketguy fashion. This meant that I had to go find him. That meant that I had to initiate stealth mode. Now guys, the secret to getting places you aren’t supposed to be is to just think that you’re supposed to be there. Walk confidently, look straight ahead, and preferably have a coffee to make it look like you’re an important person on important business. With my suit and tie (I figured I should get dressed up for the occasion), I marched past several backstage workers who barely batted an eyelid at me. I waltzed past the host of the event, told him he was doing great out there, and kept on looking for Blanketguy. I never found him, but I DID manage to get lost instead. Confidently lost. My mindless parading about may have resulted in me taking a wrong turn and walking right into the greenroom, where I encountered 8 of the most influential people in the country just sitting in a circle having a chat. They were all just kinda… looking at me. I could have easily have just turned around and walked out, but I found myself frozen. One of them speaks. ‘Hey, are you a talker?’. Confidence. ‘Yup.’
So next thing you know I’m eating mixed nuts with a child soldier, a psychologist, an economist, an entrepreneur and other forward thinking, highly important people. We’re all chatting about our talks, and eventually the conversation gets to me and I realise that I’m actually NOT giving a TED talk and that I have zero qualifications or reasons to be here. ‘So what’s your talk on?’ I pause and think to myself. Confidence. ‘Conning.’
After the chat was over, I managed to slink away and continue my search for Blanketguy.
-Creebs
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butterflyphil · 8 years ago
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And Marigolds All in a Row (Chapter 5: Snapdragons)
Summary: Dan is angry. Angry at the world, angry at his parents, angry at his classmates who treat him more like a punchline than a person. New to Brookwood Academy, he does his best to keep his head down and take advantage of his opportunity at a fresh start, but getting through sixth form unnoticed proves harder than expected. Then, one day, he wanders into a garden with as many secrets as flowers and meets a boy who has managed to do just that.
Warnings for this chapter: swearing, death mentions
start from beginning, previous chapter, read on ao3
It’s raining. Not a violent downpour like the day Dan retrieved his bike, but a steady almost-mist, the kind too quiet to hear over the croaking of frogs and too fine to see except in the spots it leaves on clothing, the rings it makes in water.
Dan watches those rings now on the surface of the pond, cattails brushing his back and Matt Bellamy crooning in his ear. His arm aches from holding his umbrella for too long, and his feet are cold, though not as cold as they should be given that they’re submerged in should-be-icy water on a drizzly November afternoon. Yet another spark of magic he has simply come to accept as part of the garden in the weeks since he first found it.
Another minnow nips at his toes, much to Dan’s annoyance. He looks over to the pale-pink feet dangling in the water next to his own and feels even more annoyed; as far as he can tell, the minnows never pester Phil. But then his eyes trail up to the rolled-up-but-somehow-still-damp jeans, the spindly fingers threaded in dewy grass, the upturned chin and closed eyes and soft smile, and his annoyance is forgotten.
“I liked that one,” Phil says, and it is only then that Dan realises that the last song on the album has ended. Phil removes the earbud Dan offered him and drops it into Dan’s outstretched palm, careful not to touch, as he always is. It’s something Dan noticed shortly after he and Phil met, and though he often wonders exactly what might have happened to Phil to make him so unwilling to touch people, he never asks about it. In return, Phil never asks Dan about home or school or the reason Dan flinched the one and only time Phil called him Daniel. It is their unspoken rule that the garden is to be treated as a sanctuary, an escape from the outside world where nothing matters but the bees and the flowers and each other, and Dan has no desire to break the spell.
“Likes Muse,” Dan says, nodding to himself and putting his earbuds and phone into his backpack before tossing it to the side. He closes the umbrella and throws it to the side as well; now that his electronics are safe, he doesn’t mind getting rained on a little. “We’ll make a music buff out of you yet.”
Phil makes a happy sort of humming noise as he flops onto his back, seemingly unperturbed by the wet grass beneath him. “That’s probably the first band you’ve shown me that hasn’t confused me, scarred me, or made my ears hurt. Don’t get your hopes too high.”
Dan laughs before copying Phil, folding his arms behind him before lying all the way down. He turns his head so the rain doesn’t fall directly into his eyes, and his gaze lands on Phil. It seems that it’s doing that more and more lately, soft skin and sharp bones pulling at his attention the way the earth pulls at apples, natural and unstoppable and feeling very much like falling.
Phil, for his part, never seems to notice the way Dan sometimes studies him for long stretches of time, unable to look away. He certainly doesn’t notice now, with his eyes closed and his face upturned, letting raindrops speckle his cheeks like new freckles, the corners of his lips tilted almost imperceptibly upwards. It isn’t uncommon for them to spend afternoons this way, especially when the sky is grey and dreary as it is now. On nicer days, they sit in the tree or walk along the cobbled path to admire the garden. But on days like today, Phil tends to close his eyes, likely finding beauty in his own imagination.
Dan prefers to look at Phil.
More and more often, they talk very little. Phil has been rather quiet from the start, and while Dan initially felt the need to fill any silence longer than a few seconds with mindless babbling, that urge faded with time and without effort. That’s when you know you’ve found somebody really special, he thinks. When you can just shut the fuck up for a minute and comfortably share silence.
He doesn’t realise that he has spoken aloud until Phil asks, “Did you just quote Pulp Fiction at me?”
Dan raises his eyebrows, though Phil doesn’t see it as his eyes are still closed. “You’ve seen Pulp Fiction?”
“Of course I have. It’s a classic.”
“Oh, that’s a classic but Gold Digger isn’t. I see how it is. You had me thinking you were this magical nature boy who’s too busy taking care of his plants to bother with frivolous human technology, but really, you just hate music.”
“I don’t hate music,” Phil argues, though there is laughter in his voice. “So I don’t keep up with the top forties. Sue me.”
“Maybe I will.” Dan raises his hands in the air, spreading them apart as though framing an invisible headline. “Dan versus Phil. It’ll be the trial of the century.”
“Howell versus Lester, you mean,” Phil corrects. “I think they usually use the last names.”
“Been sued a lot, have you?”
“I have my secrets.” He cracks his eyes open, gives Dan a sideways look, and grins.
They fall back into companionable silence. Phil closes his eyes again, and this time Dan does the same. He tries to feel what Phil feels, focuses on the individual pinpricks of icy water on his face until they start to fall slower, gentler, and finally stop.
“You are, by the way,” Phil says suddenly.
Dan lifts his head. He raises an eyebrow that Phil can’t see, but his friend must hear the unspoken question anyway.
“You said you can only share comfortable silence with someone very special.” His eyes open, wide and earnest and bluer than cornflowers. “You are.”
Dan doesn’t know how to respond to that, so he just turns his head, hoping the action is enough to hide his cheeks, which are surely too red to be excused by the cold. His eyes find the sky, where the clouds have gone pink and parted to reveal deep blue interrupted by rays of sunflower gold.
“I should go,” Dan says. With the end of Daylight Saving, he hoped he would finally be able to stay long enough to watch the sunset with Phil, but he can only ever stay for the very beginning. One day, he promises silently, and he pulls his feet out of the water. Phil follows suit even though he doesn’t have to—as far as Dan can tell, he doesn’t have a curfew—and tags along while Dan puts on his shoes, collects his backpack, and climbs onto his bike.
“See you tomorrow?” Phil asks. He asks some variation of this question every day, seemingly never sure that Dan will actually come back, though Dan’s response is always the same.
“Of course.”
                                                       ❁❁❁
Dan knows he’s in trouble when he sees his mother’s car parked in the garage.
“Shit,” he mutters and leans his bicycle against the wall as quietly as possible. He pulls off his shoes—still damp, as he didn’t properly dry his feet before putting them on—and carries them into the house, tiptoeing, praying that his absence has gone unnoticed.
He manages to hold onto hope until he passes the kitchen.
“Ahem.”
“Mum!” Dan says, dropping his shoes and turning towards the kitchen entryway, past which his mother sits at the table, eyebrows raised, arms crossed. “You’re home early.”
“Slow day at the office,” she replies, tone unnervingly even. For a moment, she reminds Dan of his school’s headmistress, except that her anger is veiled far more thinly. “You’re home late.”
“Yeah.” Dan shifts his weight between his feet, staring at the wall behind his mother’s head. “I…erm…had detention.”
“Detention.” She nods in a way that indicates she doesn’t believe him for a second. “For three hours?”
Crap, Dan thinks. “Well…it takes a while to bike home, and—”
“Dan.” Mrs Howell sighs, pinches the bridge of her nose, tries to stay calm. “I have known you for all sixteen years of your life. I know when you’re lying.”
“Do you?” Dan asks before he can stop himself.
She opens her eyes, near twins of his own in both color and stubbornness. “Yes,” she states. “I do.” A beat. Then, harshly, quietly, “I was worried sick when I came home and you weren’t here.”
Guilt twists in Dan’s gut. He drops his gaze to his soggy socks. “I’m sorry.”
“Just tell me where you were,” she says. She doesn’t sound as angry as Dan originally thought she was. Mostly, she sounds tired.
Dan shrugs. “I was just hanging out with a friend.”
Even with his head down, Dan can practically see his mother’s eyebrows shoot up. “A friend?”
Dan crosses his arms over his chest. “Don’t sound so surprised.”
“I’m not,” she insists unconvincingly. Dan raises an eyebrow at her. “Sorry. I just…what’s their name?”
Dan is quiet for a moment, debating. Finally, he mutters, “Phil.”
“Phil,” she nods. “And is he—”
“It’s not like that.”
“I was just going to ask if he was nice.”
Another stab of guilt. Dan swallows thickly. “Yeah,” he says. “He is.”
His mother smiles. “I’m glad.” The smile fades. “But next time you go over to Phil’s, let me know, okay?”
Dan almost corrects her but stops himself. He can’t think of any real reason not to tell her about the garden—it’s not like he’s been doing anything dangerous or illegal there—but something about it seems too sacred to speak of. “I will,” he promises. It isn’t exactly a lie.
The smile returns. “Good.” She stands up, crosses the room, and envelops Dan in a tight hug. He hesitates, more surprised by the physical affection than he is by the fact that he isn’t being yelled at, before slowly bringing his arms around her waist. “It’s good that you’re making friends.” She pulls back so she can look him in the eye, but she keeps her hands on his shoulders. “I know you must have been lonely lately, what with the new school and me working so much and…well. I…I wish I could promise that I’m going to start working less, but I’m afraid, for now at least, I can only promise to try to spend more time with you when I’m here. And I’m glad that you have a friend to keep you company the rest of the time.”
“I’m fine,” Dan insists, squirming under the unusual attention he’s getting.
Mrs Howell gives him her disbelieving look again, but she lets it go anyway. She hugs Dan once more, tells him dinner will be ready in half an hour or so, and nods when he asks if he can go to his room now.
“And Dan,” she calls after him when he is almost out of the kitchen, “bring me your laptop. You aren’t allowed to use it for anything but schoolwork for a month.”
Dan stops in his tracks. “What? What happened to being glad that I made a friend?”
“I still am. This is for lying about where you were this afternoon.”
Dan hangs his head. “Yeah, okay, fair enough,” he grumbles. He can do pretty much all of his browsing from his phone anyway.
As if reading his mind, his mother says, “And don’t even think about using the internet on your phone. As soon as possible, I’m changing the Wi-Fi password, and don’t think I won’t notice if you’re using data.”
“Now that’s just evil.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you rather be grounded?”
Dan almost says yes; normally, he would rather be confined to the house than lose his internet privileges. But then he remembers Phil, and he realises what his mother is doing. He rushes back into the kitchen and places a soft peck on his mother’s cheek. “You’re a good mum,” he whispers.
“I’m rather fond of you as well, sweetheart,” she says. She gives him a wide smile, eyes crinkling in a way they haven’t lately.
Dan mirrors the expression and, for the first time in months, feels like he belongs to a family again.
Then, her grin still intact, Mrs Howell says, “But you still have to bring me your laptop.”
                                                       ❁❁❁
Dan might not be able to use his phone for the internet, but at least he can still text.
Louise my mum banned me from the internet entertain me
Louise replies almost instantly.
That’s not in my job description
You arent my guidance counselor anymore
Touche
And then, a second later:
What’d you do to lose your internet privileges
I might have stayed out late without asking first…and then lied about where i was
Dan expects another lecture. He knows he deserves it. Instead, Louise just asks,
Were you safe?
He smiles at his phone. If only all adults were more like Louise.
Yeah i was just hanging out with a friend
Okay, now that’s out of the way, stop lying to and worrying your mum!
Ah, there’s the lecture.
His phone buzzes again.
Wait…friend?
Why is everyone so shocked to hear that i socialize with other human beings
Sorry, sorry, just…a bit surprised to hear you talking about a friend instead of an enemy, is all. I’m happy for you. Who are they? What are they like? Do you have many classes together?
His name is phil. Odd but in a nice way. No classes together, he doesn’t even go to my school
Actually, he goes to blue coat. Maybe youve seen him
Surely you don’t mean Phil Johnson in year 13??
No his last name is lester. He actually transferred there around the same time i left
Louise doesn’t respond for two whole minutes.
We haven’t gotten any transfers lately
Dan stares at the message for far too long, not quite able to process its meaning.
Hes pretty quiet, maybe you just havent noticed him
He waits for a response. When one doesn’t come right away, he stares at his phone screen until it falls asleep.
He wishes he could do the same.
A soft pattering sounds on the roof. The rain from earlier is back, Dan realises, and it soon picks up speed. If the night was not quite dark before, it certainly is now.
Just as Dan thinks this, the room is illuminated by a flash of lightning, eerie purple-blue interrupted by the gnarled shadows of tree limbs. The trees here, he has noticed, aren’t nearly as friendly as the ones in the garden. He pulls the duvet up to his chin and doesn’t dare look out his window.
The house is shaking with the force of a particularly loud clap of thunder when his phone vibrates again, so Dan doesn’t notice that Louise has finally texted him back until the rumbling stops. She only texts one word. A fairly innocuous word, but Dan’s stomach drops all the same.
Maybe.
                                                      ❁❁❁
Technically, Dan could be on his way to the garden right now. The school day is over, and there is nothing stopping him from opening his phone, texting his mum that he is going to Phil’s, and spending the rest of his day the same way he has for the last few weeks. Minus an internet connection, of course.
Yet here he is, rooted to the spot in front of the headmistress’s office as the last few students without afterschool activities filter out of the building.
“May I help you?”
Dan jumps, letting out a noise that could generously be described as a yelp but more realistically described as a squeak. He spins around to find the headmistress looking at him in a way that feels very much like looming despite the fact that she is nearly a head shorter than he is.
“But…” Dan looks back to the wooden door with her name on it to make sure it is still closed, points at it dumbly, looks back at her.
“Believe it or not, Dan, I don’t actually live in there.”
“Oh,” is all Dan can think to say.
“Is there something you wish to discuss with me?”
“No,” Dan replies automatically. He hunches his shoulders, shuffles his feet. “I mean…maybe. Sort of. It’s…not important.”
Before he has a chance to make some excuse and dash out of the building, she is skirting around him to unlock her office door, striding to her desk, and sitting down at it with purpose. For a moment, they simply watch each other from opposite sides of the doorway.
“Well?” she says when it becomes clear that Dan isn’t going to move anytime soon. She raises a razor-sharp eyebrow, folds two razor-sharp hands.
Dan enters the room slowly, carefully, having the strangest feeling that he’s the unfortunate first victim in a horror movie. He stands behind the proffered chair instead of sitting in it, gripping the back with all his might.
Ellington doesn’t mention it. She doesn’t mention anything. She spoke her piece, and now she sits. Watches. Waits.
“I made a friend,” Dan announces, unable to take the silence any longer.
If Ellington is surprised, she doesn’t show it. She nods. “Would you like to tell me about them?”
It’s an out, Dan realises. She’s allowing him to change the subject, to make an excuse and leave.
He moves around to the front of the chair and sits.
“We…we didn’t meet at school. I crashed my bike, and I think he might have fixed it for me.”
“Might have?”
“We’ve never really talked about it.”
Ellington nods as though she understands.
“He told me he used to go here. Maybe you know him?” He doesn’t intend for it to come out as a question, but it does.
“Probably.”
“His name is Phil Lester.”
For the first time since Dan met her, the headmistress’s outer confidence melts away. Her eyebrows come together in confusion, and there’s a look in her eye that might be interpreted as concern.
Or fear.
“When was it that he said he went here?” she asks.
“Up until a couple of months ago, right around the time I transferred.”
Oh god, he’s secretly forty, Dan thinks, and he waits for the headmistress to confirm it. What she actually says, though, is so much worse.
“Dan,” she says, and she sounds careful, and that might be the most troubling thing of all. “I’m not sure who this friend of yours is, but I think it’s best you stay away from him. He’s not who he says he is.”
Dan opens his mouth to reply, but no words come out.
“I’ve worked here for almost a decade,” she continues. “I know every student who passes through these halls, if only by name. I’ve only ever known one Phil Lester. And, I assure you, your friend is not him.”
“H-how do you know?” Dan asks, heart racing.
She purses her lips, considering, then shakes her head. “Because Phil Lester died two years ago.”
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