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fluentmoviequoter · 1 year ago

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The Better, Hidden Half

Requested Here!

Part 2 Here >

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!wife!reader (takes place in The Rookie 1x20-2x1)

Summary: Tim doesn't tell just anyone that he's married. When he's quarantined and his life is threatened by a fatal virus, he asks Lucy to call you, and ends up showing everyone what you mean to him.

Warnings: angst, fluffy comfort at the end, spoilers for episodes 1x20 and 2x1 (this is basically a rewrite, but still includes a brief reference to the suicide line from Tim). reader stress cleans?

A/N: The anxiety/stress cleaning bit is completely self-indulgent; sorry. I tried to manipulate Tim's conversations with Lucy to make them sound more platonic (I don't know if it worked though). I absolutely love this idea and had a ton of fun writing it!🤍

Word Count: 3.9k+ words

Tim Bradford is a man of few words, and he keeps his life separated into two distinct areas: work life and personal life. He tried to bring the two together once, but hated the constant worry that someone from his work life would threaten to hurt people in his personal life or worse, act on their threats. For that reason, for his family’s safety, Tim keeps his life separated, and only a choice few have been chosen to be trusted with a glimpse of both sides of Tim. Angela, Wade, and on occasion, Bishop, see a side of Tim that doesn't exist when he's at work.

✯✯✯✯✯

“How is she?” Angela asks, sitting beside Tim for roll call.

Tim rolls his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “I trained her, I’m sure she did fine. Better than your golden boy boot, anyway.”

Angela smiles and leans in to whisper, “Didn’t mean Chen.” She turns her attention to Jackson, calling, “80 might be the passing grade, boot, but if you don’t get at least a 90, you should turn in your badge on general principle.”

Tim leans forward to add, “Officer Chen, I will take it as a personal insult if you get anything less than a 93.”

“Yes, sir,” Lucy answers. “Have you figured out what you’re going to do with all your new free time? Might I suggest a book club?”

Angela elbows Tim under the table, and he glances at her quickly, giving her a displeased stare which only makes her work harder to hide her smile.

“What are you talking about?” Tim asks.

“You know, after I pass, there won’t be any more daily evaluations to write.”

“Whether I evaluate you daily or weekly, I will continue to judge you every minute. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.”

As Grey enters, Lucy turns to Nolan, who whispers, “I can’t believe he’s single.”

“Tell me about it,” Lucy replies, rolling her eyes. “Evaluating a wife daily would cut into his ‘man of honor’ time.”

They silence as Wade directs the TOs to only take easy calls while the rookies finish their last shift before their exams. When Tim assures that he follows direct orders, he keeps his eyes straight ahead, knowing that Angela and Bishop are ready to tease him the moment he looks in their direction.

✯✯✯✯✯

7-Adam-19, silent hold-up alarm activated at Madame Megan’s psychic shop. 2417 Vine. Code 3.

Tim and Lucy enter the back room, taking control of the situation quickly, and he dials in once again to being a cop. Not a family man or anything of the sort. Just a police officer.

As Lucy walks out, and the (fake) psychic hits on Tim, he can only think of one thing. Excusing himself from the room, with a lack of grace that is unlike him, Tim lets his mind wander for just a moment. He thinks of a promise he made, a vow he took, and then his focus is back on his new case, a missing person discovered by a phony Hollywood psychic.

✯✯✯✯✯

Miles away, you are trying to focus on work, though you find it much harder than Tim to simply push your family and your personal life from your mind at a moment’s notice. Fiddling with your necklace, you refrain from grabbing your phone, wanting to text the only person on your mind. Oblivious to the dangers Tim is learning about from the CDC and Homeland Security, you sigh and clench your hands into fists before attempting to focus again.

Before you make any progress on starting the project awaiting your attention, your phone rings. Tim’s name appears on your screen, and you rush to answer, dread filling you. He never calls while he’s working, and you immediately expect the worst. Surely if it were something terrible, Angela or Wade would call you. If Tim is calling, that means he is okay, he is alive.

“Hello?” you ask, releasing a sigh when Tim says your name.

“Are you alone?” he adds, his voice strained.

“Yes. What’s going on?”

“I need you to stay where you are or go straight home. There’s a terror cell with a biological weapon; we’re doing everything we can to find them, but I need to know you’re safe.”

“Tim- yeah, of course. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I- I really can’t say anything else. Not about what we’re doing. Call me if you need anything. Anything at all, okay?”

“I will. Be careful, Tim. I love you.”

“I love you.”

Your phone beeps as the call ends, and your hand finds your necklace again, one finger slipping into Tim’s wedding ring. He leaves it with you each morning, taking it back with gentle touches and loving kisses when he returns each night. Today, all you can do is trust that he is good at his job and that he will protect you and the rest of LA, and then come back to you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim and Lucy approach one of the possible addresses in the search for newly discovered members of the terror cell.

“Man. And here I thought that test was gonna be the hardest part of my day,” Lucy muses.

“Best case scenario, it’s tomorrow’s problem,” Tim points out. His thoughts, however, are stuck on you, especially when Lucy asks what the worst case is.

“Took you long enough,” the man, Peter Langston, says as he opens the door. “Bag’s in here.”

“Sir, we’re here about the bus you took from Phoenix,” Tim explains.

“No kidding. I called you about the bag.”

“And what bag is that?”

“I thought it was mine on the bus. I picked it up by accident.” Tim follows Langston into a bedroom as he continues, “Noticed as soon as I got home. Called right away. Still took you guys like six hours to get here.”

“Uh, sir, we’re not here about a bag.”

“So, you don’t have mine? My computer’s in there… I went through this one for an address, and all I found was some weird science equipment.”

Tim glances back at Lucy, who calls for the task force at the mention of ‘weird science equipment.’

“Sir, did you touch anything in there?” Tim asks, pulling gloves on.

“Yeah, I cut my finger going through it looking for an address. Some kind of broken vial.”

Tim’s eyes widen and his breath catches as the man raises his bloodied finger, adding that it hasn’t stopped bleeding since it was cut. Hemorrhaging, Tim knows.

“Everything okay in there?” Lucy calls.

“Yeah. Just stay out there,” Tim demands.

The man coughs, and Tim flinches as blood lands on his neck and up onto his jaw. Looking down at the blood on the man’s shirt, Tim’s mind forgets the divide between work and personal life. He takes the initiative to lock Lucy out, slamming the door on her to keep her safe, but his true concern is you. If something happens to him, who will look out for you? Who will be your shoulder to cry on? In a moment, as the reality of the situation dawns on him, Tim thinks like a husband, and he begins to regret keeping you, his wife, hidden for so long.

“Tim, no!” Lucy yells, but she steps forward too late.

Tim is on the other side of the door, a new division created as others are dissolved.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim finds baby wipes on a nearby changing table, wiping the blood from his skin as he lies to Langston, telling him it will be okay and distracting him with meaningless treatments to combat the “bad case of the flu the police were warned about this morning at roll call.”

Langston disappears into the bathroom in search of cold medicine, and Tim walks to the door to ask Lucy, “Everything all right out there, Chen?”

“Uh, yeah. The CDC’s on their way,” she responds. “Hey, you need to come out of there.”

“That’s not gonna happen. Got to keep this contained.”

“Tim-“

“It’s gonna be alright, boot.”

Tim knows that Lucy is concerned about him, and he is similarly concerned for her. He feels responsible for her safety as his rookie, but his thoughts toward her are completely and totally different from his fears concerning you, driven by love rather than mutual respect and duty.

“You keep your head in the game, okay?” Tim encourages Lucy. “Everything’s gonna be fine.”

As Tim looks at the blood-covered wipe in his hand, he thinks of you, and how you’ll respond to the potential notification that he didn’t make it, taken from you by the very thing he tried to protect you from. He turns his attention back to the sick man feet away from him before his thoughts spiral. Tim needs you, so he needs to focus and survive.

✯✯✯✯✯

While the CDC is arriving at the house and quarantining Tim and the infected man, you are pacing in your shared bedroom. Memories of you and Tim exist in every inch of this house, and every moment that goes by without an update increases your worry. Walking into the closet, you find one of Tim’s recently worn shirts, changing into it before picking up the remote to distract yourself. With Tim’s pillow clutched to your chest, you try to laugh at the ridiculous sitcom on the screen, but it doesn’t work as well as you hoped.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Officer Chen, you want to tell me what happened?” Dr. Morgan asks, dressed in full hazmat gear as she enters.

“Yeah, uh, the bus passenger mistakenly grabbed the wrong bag, and the virus must have been in it because he coughed up blood on Tim,” Lucy explains.

“Did you get any blood on you?”

“Uh, no. I was out here. Tim immediately closed the door.”

“Smart man.”

Tim hears Dr. Morgan’s comment and clenches his jaw, knowing you would disagree entirely. At least in this case.

“Hey, doc,” Tim greets, standing against the door.

“How you doing?” Dr. Morgan inquires.

“Fine. But Mr. Langston’s struggling a little.”

“Can you describe his condition?”

“Yeah. He, uh, started coughing blood about 20 minutes ago. Now he’s got a pretty wicked nosebleed.”

“Why aren’t they coming in? Where’s my ambulance?” Langston asks.

“It’ll be here any minute. Just… stay put. Save your energy.”

Lucy interrupts to ask, “Where’s the vaccine?”

“Still in the air,” Dr. Morgan says. “Should land in the next hour or so.”

Scoffing, Lucy argues, “You can’t make Tim wait in there. He might not be infected.”

“Sorry. Quarantine rules exist for a reason.” Dr. Morgan turns to the door and asks Tim, “Officer Bradford, do you mind if I put you to work while you wait?”

“You want to know what’s in the bag?” Tim knows digging through the contents is dangerous, but waiting without doing anything won’t increase his chances of getting home to you.

“Yes, I do.”

“Copy that. Chen, I’m gonna turn on my body cam. You can monitor it from out there.”

“Okay. Please be careful,” she responds.

Tim hears your voice in his mind, telling him the same thing. He trusts himself to listen to you more than his rookie.

“All right. Here we go,” Tim says, using his baton to open the bag.

“Wait. Wait. What is that bottle?” Dr. Morgan wonders.

“Looks like the delivery device,” Tim guesses, raising it carefully from the bag. “It’s a misting fan.”

Dr. Morgan calls Homeland Security with the new information on how the terrorists are planning to spread the virus. As Tim continues searching the bag, failing to find identification or target information, Lucy sees Langston raising a chair in the mirror and yells for Tim just before he is knocked unconscious.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your house is as clean as it has ever been. Using your nervous energy and anxiety-fueled need to move, you clean each room in an attempt to keep your mind from worrying about Tim. You could call someone and ask for an update, but they probably can’t tell you anything. The only comfort you have is knowing that Angela and Wade would call you if you needed to know something. The silence is deafening, but it’s also a good sign.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim? Tim!” Lucy continues, growing concerned at the lack of reply.

Tim opens his eyes, moving backward quickly when he sees a puddle of blood running toward his face. He sees Langston standing across the room, mumbling about needing to get out as he tries to break the window. Tim tases him as he stands, and Lucy’s concerned yells continue. Covering his face with his shirt, Tim handcuffs Langston to the bed, shuffling backward as Lucy demands his answer.

“I’m okay! I’m okay!” he replies, breathing heavily. “Well, that was fun.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Tim chuckles. “Kind of depends on your definition of the word.”

While Lucy tells Dr. Morgan to get the vaccine, and the LAPD sends patrol units out to find the other terrorist, Tim keeps his eyes on Langston, but his mind is on you. He should ask someone to tell you and find a way to let you know what is going on, but part of him knows that you are separate from this for a reason. You’re likely worried enough without knowing that Tim’s chance of being infected rises with each moment.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim watches Langston die, unable to do anything as he begs for help and convulses. Imagining himself in Langston’s place, Tim decides that he has to do something. He can’t go out like that, he won’t, but more importantly, he can’t leave you wondering. If Tim dies today, he is not dying without talking to you one last time, showing everyone around him that you are the best part of him.

He leans against the door in silence until Lucy says, “Hey, I, uh- I just checked with Dr. Morgan. The vaccine’s minutes away.”

“You know, you’re good at a lot of things – lying isn’t one of them,” Tim replies.

“You think I’m good at things? Can I get that in writing? … How are you doing? Are there any symptoms yet?"

"I’m sweating like a pig. But it’s probably because it’s 100 degrees in this room.”

Tim sighs just before Lucy assures, “It’s gonna be okay. I really believe that.”

“I’m sure you do. But if it isn’t-“

“Don’t think like that. It’s-“

“If it isn’t,” Tim repeats. “I’m not going out the way my man Pete here just did.”

“What are you saying?”

Tim sighs again, realizing what he said. He would never leave you like that; he’s a fighter. “I need you to do something for me, Chen.”

“Anything.”

“My- my wife is probably worrying herself sick right now. If this doesn’t end like you think it will, can you tell her that I fought to get home to her? Just- just keep an eye on her if anything happens. Wade and Angela, too.”

“Wife?” Lucy asks softly.

Tim smiles, glad to talk about something other than himself or the virus released in the room with him.

“Yeah. We eloped a while back; Grey, Lopez, and Bishop were there.”

“You’ve never mentioned her.”

“I keep her separated. She - everything in my personal life – would be at risk if there wasn’t a divide there.”

“I get that. What’s she like?”

Tim says your name, closing his eyes and picturing you as he tells Lucy how beautiful, kind, and loving you are. “She’s my better half. I don’t- can’t imagine not going home to her.”

“I promise, Tim. I’m confident you will go home to her, but… I promise.”

“Thank you,” Tim says quietly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Please tell me that’s the vaccine,” Lucy says when Dr. Morgan returns.

“It is,” she answers quickly, walking toward the door quarantining Tim. “Stand back, Officer Chen. You’re not wearing protective gear.”

“Yeah.” Lucy steps back, hoping Tim is okay, and that he gets to go home to you.

“Officer Bradford, it’s time to let me in,” Dr. Morgan calls.

Tim opens the door, greeting Dr. Morgan before answering that he’s not feeling too bad. She tells him that she’s going to administer the vaccine. “It’s experimental, right?” Tim asks.

“That’s correct. So, we’re just going to have to wait and see what happens. Maybe nothing. Maybe you grow horns. But for now, I’d say you might’ve dodged a bullet.”

Tim looks at Lucy to ask, “Can you get Lopez? Ask her to call for me?”

Lucy nods, pulling her radio out to contact Angela. She knows that Tim will need you, no matter how the vaccine works… or doesn’t.

“Lopez,” she says, sighing before saying, “Tim wants to know if you can call his wife.”

“Of course,” Angela answers. “She’ll be at his side, even if I have to go get her in the shop.”

Lucy smiles at Tim, and he sighs as Dr. Morgan administers the vaccine. There’s more hope surrounding Tim now, but the fight may not be over yet.

✯✯✯✯✯

When you see Angela’s name on your phone, you consider not answering. Biting your bottom lip to hold your tears in, you answer.

“He’s okay,” Angela begins.

You sigh in relief, a few tears breaking free anyway. “Thank you, Angela.”

“The vaccine is experimental, so they’re taking him to the CDC for observation; you can visit with the proper protective gear. Do you want me to come pick you up?”

“I’ll meet you there.”

“See you in a few. And, just so you know, he didn’t call me.”

“Who did?”

“His rookie.”

Angela reminds you that she’s happy to pick you up if you want before ending the call. Tim mentioned me, you think. Then you wonder whether or not that’s a good thing.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Hey, I heard you guys saved the day,” Lucy says, exiting Langston’s house to meet Nolan, Jackson, Lopez, and Bishop.

“It was a group effort,” Jackson corrects.

“Glad you’re okay,” Nolan expresses.

“Me too,” Lucy sighs. “I- I mean that you’re okay, too.”

“How’s Tim?” Angela asks.

“I think he’s gonna be all right. Now, 24-hour observation at the CDC.”

“I’ll bet my pension he just told doctors Tim Bradford does not ride in a wheelchair,” Angela jokes as Tim walks out.

“Only way I’m leavin’ out of here is on my own two feet,” Bishop imitates.

“Don’t you guys have paperwork to finish?” Tim retorts.

Tim looks at Lucy, nodding his thanks before continuing to walk toward the car waiting to transport him to the CDC. He stops suddenly in the yard, growing dizzy before he falls backward onto the grass.

“Officer Bradford!” Dr. Morgan yells.

Lucy, Angela, Bishop, and Jackson run toward him before the CDC holds them back. Someone calls for an ambulance, and Angela backs away to make a call.

✯✯✯✯✯

“What happened?” you ask, answering Angela’s second call.

“Meet us at Shaw instead of the CDC,” she says.

You can hear yelling in the background, and repeat, “What happened?”

Angela says your name, unyielding as she says, “Shaw. I’ll meet you there.”

You inhale deeply, turning toward Shaw. Knowing that you have no chance of beating an ambulance escorted by police cars, you grip the steering wheel, hoping that Los Angeles traffic has grace on you, and you make it to Tim’s side quickly.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Tim better make it,” Jackson says.

“He will.” Angela knows that he’s a fighter, but she also knows that losing him will destroy you. He has to make it for himself, for the police department, and most importantly, for you.

In the ambulance ahead, Tim goes into anaphylactic shock. Lucy helps the paramedics and glances at Tim’s left hand. The line where his wedding ring sits is barely visible, but she whispers for him to keep his promise, to keep fighting.

Once the ambulance and the police cars enter into the hospital parking lot, Nolan notices a woman with a gun, alerting the officers surrounding the ambulance before the firefight starts.

Lucy covers Tim in the ambulance as the paramedics assist him as well as the injured medics. Nolan shoots the woman in the shoulder, but his gun jams as he moves closer to her.

Tim opens the ambulance door, downing the armed woman on a surge of adrenaline. Stepping onto the ambulance driveway, he asks Nolan if he’s okay.

“I should have reloaded on the move,” Nolan mutters. “You?”

“I should’ve taken yesterday off,” Tim answers.

“Alright, Officer Bradford, let’s go,” a nurse says, pushing a wheelchair to his side.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Angela!” you call, jogging to her side.

“Don’t freak out,” she begins, but your eyes widen when you see the bullet holes covering, well, everything.

“Where is he?”

She nods, leading you around her shop. Tim is standing beside Nolan, arguing with a nurse.

“I can walk. Clearly, I’m fine,” Tim argues.

You don’t think about how many people are watching as you walk to Tim’s side. He turns toward you, his eyes softening when he sees you.

“Get in the wheelchair,” you demand.

Tim sighs but does as you say. Nolan and Jackson look at each other in shock, and Lucy smiles as she says, “His wife.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When you walk into Tim’s hospital room, he looks like he’s been waiting for you.

“I’m sorry,” he begins.

“For what? Not listening to the nurse?”

Tim chuckles as he raises his left hand, pulling you to his side. “No. I’m sorry for not showing you off more, for never telling people about us. I worried you; I know I did, and you don’t deserve any of it.”

You lean forward, running your fingers across Tim’s jawline as you smile. “You don’t have to show me off. I know why you do it, Tim. Being a secret, being separated and safe, I get it. What I don’t like is not knowing if you’re okay.”

“I don’t want the separation anymore. You are my entire life, and- I don’t know what will happen tomorrow, but I’m not risking this again. The idea of not making it home, leaving you alone, with no one knowing you or how much you mean to me… that was terrible, and I’m sorry.”

Pursing your lips, you lean toward Tim and look into his eyes before scanning your eyes over his face.

“What are you doing?” he asks.

“Trying to figure out where the Tim I know went.”

Tim smiles, moving over in the bed and tugging you against his side. He taps your necklace before raising your hair away from your neck. You unclasp your necklace, sliding Tim’s wedding ring off the chain. Tim lays his left hand in your lap, and you put his ring on slowly before kissing his hand.

“I love you,” Tim says.

“I love you. And I accept your apology, even though I didn’t need it.”

“Ready to meet the rest of my-“

“Friends?” you fill in, smiling.

“Colleagues,” Tim finishes, shaking his head as his arm tightens around your waist.

“Thank you for making sure Angela called me.”

“How clean is the house?”

You laugh, pressing your face against Tim’s shoulder. He knows you well, and though you didn't know what was truly at stake over the last few hours, you did miss him.

“Hey, Mrs. Bradford,” Wade greets, smiling as he leads a small crowd of officers into the room. “I have some rookies here who don’t believe someone would marry Tim.”

“I changed my mind,” Tim replies. “Get out.”

You elbow him gently, smiling as you stand. “It's much easier when he doesn’t tell people. No association to him.”

Tim laughs behind you, and after shaking hands and introducing yourself, you return to Tim’s side: where nothing can hurt you, everything is safe, and you’re the most important thing in the world.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x you #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests #fem!reader

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im-notbean · 6 months ago

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hey hey pooks (i mean random cool writer guy) I was wondering if you could maybe write a high school (U.A.) prom date, hawks x m!reader? Where y/n is late to prom and hawks/keigo is freaking out. It would be y/n’s first relationship. With like a ton of fluff the juiciest fluff ever ykyk. obviously its up to you but i hope you have fun if you do write this 😫🙏

Heyy (sorry this was short it did it at like 9 in the morning)

Keigo x Male!Reader

☆Prom edition ☆

Keigo paced around close to the front entrance, his lovely boyfriend (Y/N) was…late. Something unusual for (Y/N) and it made Keigo’s anxiety spike. He wondered if he did something wrong in the past couple days to make (Y/N) hesitate to come. His teacher said no quirks were to be used on other students but Keigo quickly ignored that and flew up. He managed to get himself curled up a bit into a ball.

It could have been nerves, dred, anxiety, or maybe Keigo fucked up yesterday. If he really did anything then this entire thing would be a bust, he made sure he was affectionate but also gave (Y/N) space when he wanted it. Keigo was starting to spiral deeper and deeper into an anxiety attack. Until he noticed something, during the beginning of his and (Y/N)’s relationship he gave his boyfriend a feather of his. So that no matter what they could be with each other, even if they were in the same room. (Y/N)’s must have taken it off at some point to get ready and now he just put it back on, it calmed his nerves but it didn't answer his questions.

Keigo looked up by the entrance and saw something, his boyfriend to be exactly. And unlike most of the males here, he was wearing a goddamned red dress. Keigo landed shortly after and his nerves were back ten fold, his heart was racing rapidly and his wings twitched with excitement. When (Y/N) walked up Keigo could see that the dress took a while to put on. It had lace and a black corset which unlike most of the girls here who went a little too far with their outfits, (Y/N)’s worked with him.

“...You're hot.”

Keigo blurted out, a blush creeped onto (Y/N)’s face, a small laugh escaping his lips, his plush pink lips.

“Why thank you handsome.”

Keigo blushed hard, (Y/N) giving him compliments was probably the biggest ego boost he could ever get, even if they did come often or not. (Y/N) stood in front of Keigo and kissed the bird's cheek, Keigo laughed and hugged his boyfriend who started reprimanding him but hugged back nonetheless.

“Keigo-”

“Nope. Not letting go.”

“I guess I can just go home-”

“No!”

Keigo was acting like a small child, which you found adorable. You kissed the top of your boyfriend's head and swayed slightly to the must. Keigo perked up and noticed the gold jewelry, maybe earrings or a necklace but he couldn't help but stare at you in awe and love. If his pupils could change at all they would be hearts.

“I love you.”

It was the first time Keigo would ever utter those words and it wouldn't be the last. To anyone, or to you. He loved you. And well…

“...I love you too.”

You also loved him back ten fold. You loved him as long as your heart beat. You loved him to the moon and back. You loved him. And only him.

And he would say the same thing to you, if you had ever said “I love you” first. During that prom you two snuck off to the bathroom and just talked, after all what's a prom without a couple of make out sessions or just kissing in general. Nothing freaky happened but nobody would know that.

After prom ended you and Keigo ran back to your dorm room, talking and chatting the entire time. When you two got there you went onto the balcony and looked at the stars.

“Hey baby?”

“Yeah?”

“What will you do after UA… will you stay in Japan or go home?”

“...I don't know. I think… I think I’d want to stay here with you.”

“Why?”

“Because… I love you.”

Keigo turned to you, his face flushed along with yours. The two of you quickly kissed, it wasn't desperate or full of teeth. It was just soft and passionate, all your love combining into one simple act of love. When the two of you broke apart there was a strand of saliva connecting the two of you. You both laughed, Keigo rested his head on your chest and you both looked to the sky. Making new constellations that made no sense but two the two of you.

#im-notbean #x male reader #hawks x y/n #hawks x male reader #hawks x reader #hawks mha

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videogamelover99 · 5 months ago

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Update for the Human Bill AU

HIYA FOLLOWERS!

It’s me, uh, Vee! Wait, like the LETTER? Seriously?! Talk about originality.

ANYWAY! Word around the block is that BEST SELLING AUTHOR BILL CIPHER (pretty cool guy btw makes great deals) released a book into the PUBLIC COLLECTIVE that was SO GOOD it melted all of your brains into the primordial forms they were in when you were 10 years younger! Which is great news, cause it means more of you are down to contribute to the cause. What cause? Summoning Bill Cipher back into the mortal realm of course! I KNOW after his last SHOWSTOPPING lore drop you’re just dying to meet this guy, I get it! And you can! All you gotta do is pledge your allegiance to me, B- I mean, Vee! Who is not in any way, shape, or form possessed by a demon right now! They’re fine! I’m fine! Everything’s fi-

Ahem. Sorry. Bill took over my brain for the 30th time this week. It’s Vee. Hi.

Seriously though, actual Bill Cipher might not be hijacking my brain right now, but his character might as well be. I’m back to 2016, spinning him around like a rotisserie chicken. He is my little guy. He did nothing wrong, I promise.

Honestly, I didn’t know if A Different Form a Different Time was ever gonna come back. It started as a collaboration with @doodledrawsthings on Tumblr, and after they moved on to do other stuff I did the same. And yet, this au changed the trajectory of my life. After all the support and enthusiasm from you guys, I realized how much writing and storytelling meant to me. I’m now a Narrative Game Designer, writing scripts and stories on a professional level, which I would not have gotten do to had I not had the experience of writing for this AU.

For years, I kept getting DMs telling me someone was leaving kudos and comments on fics I wrote when I was a teenager, and that always just…blew me away. From the bottom of my heart, thank you for showing me how much my writing meant to you because I would not have gotten this far without that message being reiterated over and over again.

And then the Book of Bill happened, and suddenly this dead au Mak and I crafted got 20k+ words of new material. Oops. Haha.

So are you finally continuing this fic?

Yes and no. I’m rebooting it. After improving as a writer I’m hoping to bring something new to the table while following what’s already established in the series. Waking Days is gonna be rewritten, with new plotlines, new adventures, better, more coherent plot. I’ll still keep the old fic up so people can read it if they want, but I’ll re-order it to be at the end of the series for a more clear continuation.

Will you finally give us a finished product?

The genuine answer is I don’t know! I don’t have a good track record for finishing fics, which is not exactly a vice, since I’m not getting paid for any of it. It’s just for fun. All I can promise is that I’ll give you new adventures in this universe, and maybe, together, we’ll get to the end. I was always of the opinion that people don’t owe writers and artists kudos or likes or comments, because once you put something out there, it’s not up to you how it’s consumed. I’m writing this for fun, and to improve my skills. But I will say that kudos and comments help a TON with people’s motivation. Seeing someone be enthusiastic about your work just does it sometimes, ok? And if you want this fic to be continued, if you like what’s happening, then let your voice be heard.

Is Mak (aka doodledrawsthings) involved again?

Nope! They gave me their blessing to continue this AU, and it’s gonna branch out a lot from the original vision. I’d be down to work with them again, but as far as I know, they have their own stuff going on (they’re a professional storyboard artist now and have been for a while!) Please don’t harass them about this. If they want to work on GF stuff again, they will choose to do that on their own.

Upload Schedule

If anyone noticed, I did a little poll recently (if you missed it, follow me guys!) and most people preferred shorter updates once a week. That’s what we’re gonna try. So, keep an eye out for a new fic in this series next Friday. I’ll add another chapter to this one even so people can keep track. I’ll be posting on my AO3 as well as on Tumblr, and tagging it as “A Different Form a Different Time”.

Sneak Peek?? Please?

Sure. Here’s some stuff I wrote:

Deep in the redwood forests of central Oregon lay a small little town called Gravity Falls. With a population of a few thousand, low on tourism, and high on mosquito bites, the town was hard to find on any of the maps, and some might have claimed that the town hadn’t even existed.

Fewer still knew of the oddities that made the town their home, passerbys had nothing to say outside of an “eerie feeling” and a glimpse of tiny men in pointed caps in the corner of their vision.

But the town was real, and the oddities were more real still.

In the outskirts of that town, down a dilapidated forest path, in a clearing sat The Mystery Shack, an old scientist’s lab turned tourist attraction. It was in this house, on a stiff, plushy couch, framed by the light of a seemingly empty water tank, that Bill Cipher, the monster with one eye, harbinger of chaos and trillion-year-old mind demon awoke, in a body that was not his and whose irritating human instincts he deeply resented.

“Gah!”

“Screee!”

"Ow!"

Instincts like rapid breathing, sweatiness, and overall shakiness usually meant one of these dozen organs wasn’t working properly. Unfortunately, after waking up for the dozenth time in this manner, Bill had to admit that the organs weren’t the problem.

Not that he could remember what the problem was. Whatever dream or nightmare had caused this current inconvenient bout of terror, whatever remnants of it were blank, fuzzy static on a rotting television screen.

It was more annoying than anything.

Bill started his nightly routine of picking himself off the floor. The blanket he had was tangled around his legs, which were somehow still on the sofa. After a moment or two of clumsily getting the appendages to move, Bill managed to heave himself upright.

Bill rubbed his eyes, he had two now. So weird.

"Oik!"

Mabel's pig sat on the rug next to his head, staring blankly.

"What're you looking at, huh?"

"Oik!"

"None of your business."

"Oik oik!"

"No, what do I look like, a snack machine?"

"O-oik!"

"Ha! So's your mother!"

Waddles chose that moment to get up and trot away, done with the conversation. Well, good, Bill was done with him, too.

He stole a glance at the water tank. Still empty. Figures old Frilly wouldn't be there when Bill had a bone to pick with him. Maybe he should put some mercury in the water. As a surprise.

What was the point of stuffing him in this body, anyway? Did the ol’ salamander really think it would do anything? Was it to scare him? To torture him? To tell him how awful and evil he was and all those other meaningless statements that Bill had found hilarious in his time?

Crimes against the second dimension? It was a crime that the place had existed the way it did. A rotten, broken building called for a demolition. He’d just had the detonator.

Why would you do this?

Ugh, not again.

I-I wish I was dead! I wish I wouldn’t have to see what a monster you’ve-

Bill pulled himself up onto the couch and raised the blanket over his head. As if that could block out the incessant voice that only showed up at the worst of times.

He would not sleep again.

#gravity falls #flat dreams #human bill au #fanfiction #a different form a different time #bill cipher #ao3 #vee's writing #bet you thought you'd seen the last of me (bill voice)

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lunarriviera · 27 days ago

Text

the year in fic: 2024

So every January, @programmedradly and I go through the @ficwip list of year in review questions and pick 5 we want to answer, and 5 for the other person. This saves us having to answer all of them, and saves you having to read it! You’re welcome! Plus it’s more fun.

This year she picked these for me:

8. What fic meant the most to you to write? 9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on? 16. What’s your favorite title of the year? 23. If you had to choose one, what was the most satisfying writing moment of your year? 30. What would you like to write next year?

And I picked these for myself:

5. What ships captured your heart? 11. What fic was the most difficult to write? 19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue. 20. Share your funniest line. 21. What’s something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

Without further ado! Endless palaver behind the cut!

5. What ships captured your heart?

Oh my god [swoons a little bit]. Since I read Mo Du I’ve been absolutely shattered about Luo Wenzhou/Fei Du and I’m starting to think that’s never going to change. The grumpy one and the sunshine one? Red oni/blue oni? The lion and the raven? Oh please, spare me. Try “the one with the unwavering moral compass who will throw himself unhesitatingly into the line of fire for you, even though you’re a lying liar who lies and you’re constantly yanking his chain but you have his whole heart anyway,” paired with “the one for whom it’s still sort of up in the air whether he's a sociopath or just traumatized to the point of insanity, but he's also clearly a genius and has been crafting this plan his entire life so I guess his new cop boyfriend will help him carry it out, oh and by the way guess what he's now falling in love with the cop's innate compassion and goodness, haha you didn’t see that coming did you Fei Du, SURPRISE.”

Honestly I’ve never read anything else like it.

In raw word count I wrote the most for Du Cheng/Shen Yi (something that also feels like it will never change, because they’re so similar to Zhoudu). But I got truly blindsided by Ruan Nanzhu/Lin Qiushi, who took me out at the knees—I’d never read infinite flow before and I had no idea Nanzhu would break my heart (thanks in large part to Xia Zhiguang and his stupid eyes). Finally, at the end of the year Zheng Bei/Gu Yiran burst through the door and said, hey we’re also deeply fucked up and perfect for each other, will you write a bunch of fics for us, and after I was done crying I said, sure I guess. Why the fuck not.

Basically it’s been a solid twelve months of clutching my chest and whispering weakly, they’re in love, so, you know. Like that. (Having said this, Guardian is forever. I got wobbly about pingxie all over again when Tibetan Sea Flower aired—plus all I have to do is see a gifset of Ji Chen and Ji Xiaobing to be racked with heihua feelings. Do these things ever go away? I keep thinking of lines by Adrienne Rich: "We who were loved will never / unlive that crippling fever.")

8. What fic meant the most to you to write?

This will surprise exactly no one, but “asylum.” It’s been five years since I wrote anything much longer than 20-30k, and that experience (100k, a very made-up crossover) had been so fraught and left me so mind-wiped that I was scared to try again. And yet. I couldn’t stop thinking how 1) UTS still has no English fic longer than about 30k, 2) Chinese procedurals won't admit corruption exists even though it’s rampant, and 3) UTS repeatedly teases us with Shen Yi’s Dark Past but refuses to divulge anything more than the tiniest glimpses. Anyway it wouldn’t leave me alone so now it’s posting, sorry everyone for putting the entire cast plus all of us through the fucking wringer. The good news is there’s a ton of fluff and crack and smut and gen for this pairing (an alarming amount of which @elenothar and I have written), so you can always find solace there after I’m done heartlessly torturing the detectives of Beijiang.

9. What fic made you feel the happiest to work on?

There were two: “what are you doing to me now” (the Du Cheng amnesia fic, which was supposed to be purely cracky and wound up being unexpectedly kind of poignant) and “middle of the night (and you’re not here” (aka “Gu Yiran has a problem.”)—I think they made me happy because they were both so relatively easy? They came together early on in my head as visual scenes unfolding, and once I can picture a scene it’s mercifully straightforward just to write it out.

11. What fic was the most difficult to write?

Obviously “asylum,” simply because it has so many moving parts; but unexpectedly, also my fic for Yuletide, “which could mean nothing.” It was supposed to be a couple thousand words, ballooned into 12k, I panicked and nearly gave up on it and was saved at the last moment by @programmedradly and @sangcurcumasvp, who persuaded me to finish. I fervently wish I would write in sections, episodically; leave more to the reader’s imagination, summarize more. And yet I seem doomed to writing in-scene. I don’t know why. It’s exhausting.

16. What’s your favorite title of the year?

Honestly they were mostly so dumb—“undercover” and “the vacation” both stand out to me as exceptionally stupid. I guess I don’t mind “the branch, my mouth, your sword,” with its echoes from both hanahaki and Beijing opera; and “to hope your son becomes a dragon” isn’t bad either, coming as it does from an idiom, 望子成龙.

19. Share your favorite piece of dialogue.

I admit I love a lot of the dialogue in “what are you doing to me now” just because I'd finally cracked the elliptical yet blunt way that Du Cheng and Shen Yi speak to each other. It’s terse because neither of them is given to saying much, yet it’s also iceberg-like, with unspoken volumes submerged beneath each utterance, and it’s taken me a while to get that rhythm. This comes after Du Cheng has recovered his memory, in that handwavy way people do in fic:

They have some arguments. The arguments aren’t about anything recent, but Du Cheng having just remembered certain events all over again, he feels freshly aggrieved about them. “You just stood there, and you let him stab you.” “He stabbed the painting.” “It was a good painting! And you were on the other side of it.” “You and Jiang Feng were right behind me.” “But what if we hadn’t been?” “Then I wouldn’t have just stood there.” “Goddammit,” says Du Cheng, because he’s lost this one too. “Don’t, okay? Next time?” Shen Yi compresses his very pretty mouth into an unyielding line, and doesn’t promise anything, because he’s still a pain in Du Cheng’s ass.

20. Share your funniest line.

People seemed to like vastly different bits this year, e.g. @omaenanimonoda was amused by people “dancing like sweaty pickles in a jar.” But a few readers commented on this text exchange between Du Cheng and He Rongyue, initiated by a nervous Du Cheng about to go on a first date with Shen Yi. This is from “still have to change,” in which Shen Yi keeps interrupting all of Du Cheng’s blind dates—when, that is, they're not interrupted by major crimes.

何溶月: what’s up 杜城: nothing 杜城: i meet shen yi in an hour 杜城: at that place you suggested 何溶月: du cheng, it’s fine. it’ll be fine 杜城: what if he hates it 何溶月: he likes you, not a restaurant 杜城: how do you know 何溶月: he literally interrupted an autopsy 何溶月: to ask me why you keep going on dates 何溶月: with people who aren't him 杜城: what did you say 何溶月: i told him it was because you were an idiot

21. What’s something that surprised you while you were working on a fic? Did it change the story?

I’m a terrible pantser so that always happens, characters are always rearing up and opening their mouths and saying the most outrageous shit, and then I have to scramble to accommodate them. This happened again and again in “asylum” but it also came out of the woodwork in “held you close and breathed your name,” one of the year’s two DMBJ fics. Bai Ma really did just keep up and saying/doing stuff and then I would have to figure out how to jam that into her and Xiaoge’s story somehow. Again, I wish I were different, and would plot everything out beforehand, but I seem compelled to subject myself to characters just popping their heads up like prairie dogs and announcing their goddamn preferences.

23. If you had to choose one, what was the most satisfying writing moment of your year?

I really loved writing “when you hold me (it holds me together)” for Fei Du’s birthday. I was honestly starting to wonder if I’d ever be able to write for that pairing, because needless to say Priest is a pretty fucking tough act to follow. And then it happened, and now I’m working on a new story for them, too. It’s such a knee-weakening feeling of relief when you’re able to do something terrifying that you wanted so desperately, but really doubted you could ever pull off.

30. What would you like to write next year?

I already have a list and here it is. I realize I am thus tempting the gods and now probably none of this will get written but instead I’ll write two dozen random fics for some miserable machine-translated drama no one has ever seen. Because that’s how these things work.

• little uts2 fic about [redacted] i’m writing with [person] • finish posting uts longfic (edit chs 6-21 without unaliving) • “gu yiran gets roofied” (sorry to this man) • wang yang rpf ft. some twink crying, not sure whomst yet • post-canon ptsd zhoudu ft. messed-up [redacted] roleplay • turn someone into a cat (shen yi again probably?) • lose omegaverse virginity (kod? rnz already gave lqs a claiming bite) • beach episode part 2? (nanqiu get drunk in tahiti bar, hijinks ensue) • Very Secret Project I Will Not Be Discussing Ever So Don’t Ask • something serious about uts s2 but I don’t know what yet (though I do now have two I hope shorter fics outlined, working titles “fang kaiyi gets out of prison” and “du cheng solves a tricky case”)

Thanks for reading, darlings; your ongoing presence—baffling, astounding, salvific—honestly keeps me from walking into the sea. Happy 2025, and I hope you enjoy everything you write.

#year in writing #2024 #writing is hard #fanfiction is life #may your words flow freely #hypergraphia #don't perceive me too closely

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apprenticestanheight · 1 year ago

Note

heyy, i’m here requesting being loyal to my word lol, i have this little idea where adam is stalking/taking pics reader for a job and actually gets like obsessed ?? with them and tries to awkwardly make a move lmao, and obviously this happens before the bathroom events, idk if this idea sucks i just miss my pookie💔

Aldis- A.S x gn! reader

I love this idea so much and writing it was so fun!! Thank you so much for sending it in, writing for Adam is definitely a blast lol

Fic type- this is fluffy!!

Warnings- shitty bosses are implied, and the prices that are mentioned are inaccurate (I looked up aldi grocery prices and then adjusted for inflation by like, a dollar or two lol), stalk-ish behavior is mentioned (adam talks about trailing you going to and from work), cigarettes and smoking are mentioned a few times and Adam might be a little ooc

It started off as a job. Adam found himself hired by your employer to see what it was, exactly, that you did on the way to work and from it. Adam didn't want to know why your boss had wanted to know that of you and the money was good enough to not question it, so he went along with the words of your boss because the money, in the end, helped him pay rent on the shitty apartment he called home.

It started, apparently, because you'd come late to work a couple of mornings in a row with a variety of different excuses--the rain on a day of downpour, your car had broken down, your car was in the shop, your alarms weren't working--but Adam didn't bother to question that, either. He got his camera, he trailed you, he developed the photos and took them to your boss in exchange for cash that could be either devoted to making the rent or buying cigarettes.

Eventually, what was originally just a job became something a bit more for him. He caught himself genuinely caring about you, trailing you not because your boss asked but to make sure you got home without issue.

Care became infatuation, and infatuation got Adam Stanheight where he was--standing inside an Aldi Supermarket at six in the evening on a crisp day in late summer-early fall, having pretended to bump into you in the candle section, of all places, while he shopped Aldi for the deals that he could get on groceries as he needed them anyway.

"Shit!" Adam cursed, catching the candle you held before it could hit the ground on the basis of nothing but luck. "I am so sorry--I barely know my way around this area. I don't typically come down here, but the shop near my apartment is closed for renovations and I needed to grab groceries." Not entirely a lie--you lived in a different spot in New Jersey than he had, but only twenty minutes in a car, and the shop near his apartment where he could've grabbed groceries was closed, so it was Aldis and their bargain deals on any and everything both out of necessity and his minds desire to make a move.

"Oh, no worries!" You laughed. "Seriously--I don't know my way around here either, I typically shop somewhere else, but stuff has happened at work so I gotta do what I gotta do."

Adam had stopped taking photos of you only two days before, having been let go from the job after 'complications' according to your boss.

Adam was trying to flirt, but the flirting part of getting someone to give you their number was not quite his strong suit.

"So," you said. "There must've been another shop in your area. What brings you here?"

"You know that it's impossible to pass on ground beef at 99 cents a pound," Adam said, laughing. "Or a dozen eggs for $1.35, or milk for the low low price of $1.86--it's a rough economy and I am doing my best."

You laughed, and Adams heart gave a funny little flip. "$200 gets you a fuck ton more here than it does anywhere else. I've got candle money, which is nice to have again."

"Are things at work all right?" Adam asked, a feeble attempt at flirting that probably came off a bit too invasive. "Shit--there I go. Asking the way too personal questions. You don't have to answer that, we barely know each other and I don't mean to be invasive."

"My boss has cut my hours in half, is all," you said, shrugging. "I'll be looking for a new job next week, do you know anybody?"

"Nobody reputable," Adam said. "Not that I work with people who aren't, but--"

"What do you do, and what's your name? I'd like to put a name to a handsome face."

"My name is Adam Stanheight," he said. "I take photos."

"Subject matter?"

"PI stuff," Adam said. "I am a glorified snitch, basically, but the money is good."

"Well, glorified snitch," you said. "My name is Y/N and I work in marketing. You ever wanna make a career switch, give me a call."

You passed him your number, and Adam found himself in awe just a bit. He'd fumbled his way through flirting with you like it was the act of trying to share a cigarette and he was a first-time smoker, and you'd flirted like it was nothing.

"What if I don't want to make a career switch?"

"Call me anyway," you said. "We can shop at Aldis together and I can tell you all about the woes of my life in the frozen fruit aisle."

You walked away thereafter, and Adam was left to stand, his cart to his left, in awe.

#adam stanheight #adam faulkner stanheight #adam faulkner stanheight x reader #adam stanheight x reader #saw #saw franchise #saw 2004

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cozfics · 2 years ago

Note

Hi!! I saw you write for linked universe and also that your requests are open—could you do a Legend x reader enemies to lovers?? :00 thanks in advance xoxo

-✨anon

Word count:2.86k

Tw:blood, violence, swearing, blades

Notes:if it seems like two different people wrote this its because i took a month between the start and end

You let out a heavy groan as you saw the familiar red tunic. Great, of course, he was coming to bother you. That made perfect sense with the kind of day you had been having. You had burned your breakfast, ripped your favorite set of pajamas, and arrived late to work, soaked because you had lost your umbrella and it was raining cats and dogs outside. So why wouldn’t that prick arrive at your doorstep today? The perfect way to top off your day. Listen you get that he was the hero and tons of people in the village swooned because ‘ who wouldn’t want a man that could protect you.’ or whatever, but they didn’t have the pleasure of interacting with the hero. He was rude, short, snippy, and sarcastic. The one time he had saved you instead of making sure you were okay after a monster attack he had shoved your goods in your arms, calling you an idiot for being out at night. As if he hadn’t also been out at night, the same age as you. Those who wanted to date him and knew him had to be after him for his title you had decided.

“Oh no, we aren’t doing this shit today. Get out.” The words left your mouth the second your inn’s door opened, leaving the boy who had opened the door, who was very notably not Legend, frozen for a moment. He had straight hair and a multi-colored tunic. He was kinda small too, did you just yell at a child. Damn, you felt bad now. “Sorry... Thought you were someone else.” You mumbled quickly, embarrassed.

A one-eyed man walked in, armed to the teeth and his armor catching the light. Dear god if that was the child’s father you were screwed. Thankfully he didn't mention your outburst, just looked around.

“Do you have enough room for nine guests?” He asked after a moment. That’s a lot of guests but… You had ten rooms, four were currently occupied. That’s six rooms, two beds each. Plenty of space.

“Yeah, we got enough for nine guests. Two beds in each room that would be five rooms. How long are you staying?” You asked, writing the information down in your log.

“Just for the night.” The one-eyed intimidating man answered. While you had been talking with him other people who looked vaguely similar to him (And to the single most annoying creature in the world.) had pooled into your lobby. Though you only counted seven people. It was then that you heard it. That annoying, sarcastic, no one can ever get close to me so I must push everyone away and insult them bastard. He’s being dragged in by a man in a blue scarf, complaining the whole way.

“Listen, I’m just saying I’m sure we can make it to the next town before setting up camp.” The twig of a man insisted.

“That’s bullshit and you know it. It’s already sunset and we’d like to sleep in a bed since an inn is right here. Now are you gonna get your head out of your ass or am I going to have to fix that for you”

The cause of all your woes, (Or, at least you’re going to blame him because it’s nice to have something to blame, and his attitude makes it SO easy-), opened his mouth, as if he was about to reply, but you cut him off

“Ah, If the hero is with you, one hundred fifty rupees for the night per room. If it’s coming out of his wallet.” You leaned on the counter, deciding you would go the overly civil route this time since blowing up had almost blown up in your face. “Link, always a pleasure.”

“Bullshit, We both know you charge one hundred per room” Link narrowed his eyes.“Unless it’s you, my dearly hated customer.” You wouldn’t admit that you dearly enjoyed bickering with him. It was always fun, bringing up your mood.“So what, I don’t get a discount for saving your life… Or saving Hyrule?”

“Oh, you do. But it’s quickly wiped out and then some by the ‘just being an asshole’ tax.” you hummed. “But it'll actually be five hundred rupees for the nine of you to stay the night. Will you be staying for breakfast?”

“With your shitty cooking? I’d like to leave here alive, thank you very much.” Link huffed, narrowing his eyes at you. You scribbled that down.

“Alright, I’ll show you to your rooms.” You hummed. You put your hands on the desk and pushed yourself up. This would be good money at least. 500 rupees is 500 rupees. And it’s not like you really had to deal with Legend. He’d be in his room the whole time.

As soon as the boys had been settled into their rooms you decided to head out for a walk. It was a nice warm night, the moon and stars lit the way through the woods. In your arms, you held some leftover food that you planned to feed to some of the wild animals you had befriended over the past few years running the inn. It even kept them from attacking random travelers and they protected you when monsters struck. Now you didn’t need Link’s help. You never wanted to have to rely on that prick's presence again. You can save your own damn self. You had saved up, bought a sword, and taught yourself pretty well you had decided. After all, it had served its purpose.

You set down the food for the animals and drew your sword. It was simple and effective. A one-handed sword. No engravings or fancy handles. You had set up a few homemade training dummies. It helped some travelers and it allowed you to practice your skills. A great addition to your inn. You swung your sword a few times at the dummies before you heard a voice call out from behind you.

“Your form is all wrong, you could be knocked over by a gust of wind”Ah, yes. Just what you wanted to hear today.

“I could still kick you out.” You swung again, not bothering to spare Link a glance. “And I’ve been able to hold myself fine. Thank you very much.”

“Able to hold yourself well till now. Why won’t you take valid criticism that might save your life.” Legend huffed. “Fuck, this is why I hate whenever I have to stay here. You can’t take any fucking criticism. Your stubborn and hard-headed!”

“Oh, and here I thought it was because you were just a prickly bitch who loses years off their life just from having to interact with the public.” You rolled your eyes. “Suck my dick Link.”

“Listen I’m trying to help you genuinely.” Link said after a moment. You assume he was probably trying not to blow up at you. He sounded sincere…

“Okay, Okay. Show me how I should be standing then.” You decided you would let him help you.

Link walked closer to the dummy, quickly taking your place. He began to walk you through it. Explaining how low your body should be, how far apart your legs should be, how to swing your sword and follow through.Now it was your turn. All of this felt off, your feet felt wrong.

“It feels odd.” You complained.

“That’s because you’ve been practicing wrong.” Link responded. You swung at the dummy, and well. It definitely left more of an impact than you had been making before.

“Alright fine, fine you were right”

“Oh, Words I never tire of hearing” He smirked. And there he is again. The annoying ass cocky attitude.

“Alright, I’ll be heading in for the night. Don’t get yourself killed.” He waved goodbye as he walked away.

Okay. Maybe the hero of Legends wasn’t a complete self-centered asshole, doesn’t mean that you had to swoon over him though. He was just a person. An annoying person.The next morning as the boys were filtering out you overheard the conversation of some of your other guests,

Apparently, there were two groups of ‘black-blooded’ monsters. Each about a half day’s travel away in opposite directions. You hoped that they would stay away, you didn’t feel like putting the sword practice into action any time soon.Later that night half of Link’s group came in, beaten and bloodied. But Link was nowhere to be seen.

You began to send them to their rooms, but you couldn’t help but ask where Link was. It took them a moment to think, you’d probably blame exhaustion for that.

“We split up, our group agreed to meet here… They should be here shortly.” Weird face marking guy supplied.

Thankfully it only took an hour before the second group came back. They seemed to be in better shape than the first group. Though the one with a shaggy head of brown hair was unconscious. You lead them to their rooms. Now that everyone was inside you went to follow through with your nightly ritual And partway through Link joined you again.This kept happening frequently for three months.

You had caught several odd conversations between Legend’s group. Apparently, They had been calling Link Legend. You had overheard them talking about a black Lizalfros, how the fact black-blooded monsters kept popping up near the hotel must mean he was near, and about how it was odd they had been around so long.You didn’t really know what to make of it, and it really wasn’t your place, so you ignored it.

You went out to practice your sword skills with Legend. It was his idea. He said it would prepare you better than some idle dummies.

“Ready to go down hero?” you teased, doing a fancy twirl with your sword.

“If only I had 5 rupees for every time I heard that. I’d be rich.”

“And Ravio would manage to drain you of all of it” You grinned. “Come on.”

You didn’t even make it to him. There was an ambush. Damn, you for making the training area so far away. You just didn’t want to disturb the sleeping guests! Monsters surrounded you two. Most of them looked unfamiliar. Legend looked like he wanted to tell you to run, but being totally honest, you couldn’t run even if you had wanted to. There were too many. You had to fight. Thank god for the sword training.

You got into a fighting stance quickly moving to launch yourself towards the monster, thankfully it was slow and clumsy. Your sword struck its flesh as a river of black flooded down. You pulled your sword free and landed with a roll, dodging another monsters club. The injured monster stumbled back, letting out a roar. You shot up, trying to take out the injured monster's leg. Just hoping to drop their numbers by one. You dragged the blade along their calf, jumping away quickly again, just barely keeping their claws from closing around you. Woah your body felt shaky and your brain was in overdrive. And if you were honest, you loved it.You shot up to slice at the monster's face. And this is when it went downhill.

You didn’t dodge the club this time. Pain exploded in your ribs and for a moment you could only see stars. However, you didn’t have the luxury of being able to lie on the ground to recollect yourself. You had to get up right then. And you did, you pulled yourself up. Unfortunately, you had been flung back and thanks to a cliff you were pinned. You didn’t have a lot of room to back up. It seems like while you had been fighting Legend had gotten himself into a similar situation.

One swing from a club and you were both tumbling down a cliff. You felt the air strain against your body as you fell. The absolute weightlessness of everything. Then a pair of arms around you as the ground got closer and you began to tumble along the jagged cliffside. Legend had held you to take the brunt of the fall. You tried to ignore the sickening crack that sounded at the initial contact with the rocks. You tumbled for moments, but to you, it felt like forever.

When you stopped rolling it was pretty dark. When you had rolled along the cliffside it would seem you two had managed to fall and land inside a cave.

A weight lifted as Legend pulled himself off of you and let out a string of curses. You turned to look to see what warranted calling the goddess the term for a female dog. Though you understood quickly after a quick glance. Legend’s leg had been the cause of the cracking sound. It would seem that you were both stuck here until you were found then. The cliff was far too steep for you to climb and the adventurer in this cave had a broken leg.

“We’ll be found in the morning” Legend sounded so sure of it. You could only nod in response.

“I… I’m going to try to find something to make a fire.” You decided after a moment. Yeah. You could use a fire. Legend’s leg needed to be cleaned, And honestly. It was as cold as Farore’s tits here. Legend just nodded along.

You managed to find sticks at least. And a stream of water. But it went back underground and you weren’t sure where or how long until it came back above ground. It wasn’t worth risking your life yet. You brought the sticks back and lit the fire. Legend had brought out a pot that he just had because of course he did. Fucking hoarder. You plopped down beside him while you waited for the water to boil.

“Sword training paid off at least.” You broke the silence.

“Yeah. It did. Good, wasn't that your goal?”

“Well… No, my goal was to make it to where you never needed to save me. And you still helped me during the fall so…”

“Oh.”

“But it’s different now. You weren’t an ass about it so it’s fine” You waved your hand a little.

“I… see.” He said, laying on his back and staring at the roof of the cave for a moment.

“Do you wanna hear a story?” He asked after it had gone silent again. Preferring that to silence I nodded.And with my confirmation, Legend just started talking. About anything from adventures to blacksmithing tips to how to play instruments. Keeping the silence at bay.

“And he just decided to stay at your house?”

“Yep. I was at a loss for words at how bold he was.” Legend sat up. “Who the hell just waltzes into someone's house during a time of crisis and asks to stay there-” he shook his head. “Fuck. I just want to relax.”

“I never realized it was that stressful being the hero. The stories that get back to us always paint you as some sort of stoic hero.”

“Well fuck that. I’m not stoic. I still feel. I feel tired and in pain. Most of the time I’m hungry. And I’ll deny it if you ever tell anyone this but fuck, sometimes I’m even scared. And since I’m the hero, The one who’s been on more adventures than you can coin on one hand I’m apparently supposed to just be over it? What kind of bullshit is that? Seriously you tell anyone I’ll fucking stab you”

“Well yeah I mean it makes sense about how you act now. You just never wanted to drag anyone into this huh?”

“Well yeah I mean We hung around your inn too long and now look at us.”

“I mean. I’m not complaining. I kinda like it here. The cave has good company.” You smiled over at Legend, folding your hands over your stomach and laying beside him. “Company that speculation has it would be very good boyfriend material.”

“No. No instant rejection. Try to ask me in a better way and we’ll talk. Come on, that was shitty even for you.”

“Okay, okay I get the point.” You laughed. “Link. Over the last few months, I realize my feelings for you have changed. We’ve gotten closer. And I genuinely enjoy your company over most people. Would you do me the honor of being my boyfriend.” You asked.

Legend hummed.

“Come on! I just put my heart out for the world to see you prick!” You playfully swatted his arm.Legend smiled.

“Yeah yeah. Yes. I think I’d like that.”

“Yknow I was genuinely pissed when I saw you coming to my inn with your friends?” You admitted. “And goddesses I felt so bad when I yelled at the little boy in your group when he walked in. I thought he was you.”

“Wait… Wind wasn’t the first one to walk in. That was..” Legend began to cackle. A genuine smile, goddess you wouldn’t get over seeing that. “I’m never letting him hear the end of this. That was Four. He’s an adult”

“That was a man?!” You yelled.

#linked universe x reader #legend x reader #lu legend x reader #✨ anon #linked universe fanfic #I tried hope you enjoy!

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radiowallet · 2 years ago

Text

Eyes Open - Chapter 5

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Amy Oliver (ofc) Summary: Marcus takes a shot in the dark. WC: 2.1K Warnings: 18+ MDNI Canon-typical violence, talk of police work, slow burn, yearning, idiots friends to lovers, financial stressors, second chance romance, workplace romance (sort of), older love interest, single parents, DID I MENTION THE YEARNING?

Series Masterlist II Main Masterlist II Marcus Moreno Masterlist

Cross-Posted to AO3

Part 4 >>> Part 6

For any new writing follow @radiowallet-writes and turn on notifications.

----

It is the most unproductive morning Marcus has had since perhaps the days leading up to Missy’s birth. It’s a similar feeling, that low thrum of anxiety as he waited for the inevitable call that would change his life forever. Granted, this is on a much much smaller scale but the fact remains. How could he possibly focus on anything while he waits for his phone to ring?

He’s a ball of nerves, pacing to and fro across his office floor, the pattern practically worn into the hardwood beneath his feet. With each pass by his desk, he sips from his fourth cup of coffee, lukewarm at best, the caffeine doing little for his nerves or his fatigue.

He and Miracle Guy had watched through narrowed eyes and muffled breaths until, finally, their suspicions were confirmed. Miracle had made one final play to convince Marcus to let him fly down there and take care of the situation himself, but he held firm, sticking to his guns and calling in the tip to the station.

“We need these men to give up the guy in charge. The threat of them speaking up could be enough to lure their boss out of wherever it is they’re hiding.”

In the end, Miracle Guy agreed, but not before he took a few shots at the failure of police work and overcrowded prison systems. Marcus was usually the first to wield that particular battle cry, but it didn’t mean he wouldn’t use a broken system to his advantage every now and again. They stuck around just long enough to watch Chief Baldwin shove each suspect into the back of a squad car before finally parting ways with a slap on the back and a tired smile passed between the two heroes.

Marcus had gone home just long enough to catch a few hours of stolen sleep in a bed that after so many years alone was just now starting to feel too big. When his alarm went off he groaned loud and long before dragging himself into a scalding hot shower, letting the steady beat of the water pressure pound into his lower back. Hot coffee and a silent drive to the office did little to quiet his anxieties, and he knew he’d be on edge until he heard from Amy.

And it was only partly to do with local police work.

He’s considering his fifth cup of coffee when his phone rings, the sound sharp where it buzzes across his desk. He doesn’t bother crossing the room, instead calling the tiny piece of aluminum to him with the raise of his hand, relief like butterflies fluttering alongside the beat of his heart when he sees AMY flashing across the screen. He answers with shaky hands, his voice catching at the base of his throat, a smile carving out a home on his lips.

“Hey, Ames.”

“Hey! I’m so sorry I didn’t call until now. It’s been a zoo over here. Some big arrests were made late last night.”

“Oh, that’s okay,” he hums, noting the pitch to her voice is genuinely higher, but between her lines he can read the truth.

“Yeah. Apparently, a tip was called in about a moving van in a suspicious part of town late last night.”

In the background, Marcus can hear the distinct flurry of a busy precinct. The shout of officers, the ringing of telephones, someone calling Amy’s name again and again. He swallows around the lump in his throat as the guilt starts to creep up the back of his neck.

“Shit. Are you…are you too busy to talk?”

“Well, there’s a ton of evidence to categorize so that’s been keeping me busy. Plus two of the three arrests have priors big enough that they’re being moved upstate. The other made bail.”

Marcus doesn’t say a word, but fear creeps in to join his guilt.

“Yeah, it’s all pretty boring stuff. I’m so busy with all this paperwork. I probably won’t be done processing the three of them until around 12. If…if you still wanted to talk, that is?”

“Yes! Yes, of course,” he answers quickly, refusing to be bothered by how desperate it sounds to his own ears. “…But before that?” Marcus asks, testing out the waters of what she’s trying to convey.

“Just a lot of paperwork and rubber stamping shit while those guys sit in empty interrogation rooms. Derek isn’t even here to help. Off getting ready for a press conference.”

“Well, what if I brought you some coffee? Real coffee,” he offers, his smile hopeful despite the charade.

He swears when she answers back he can hear the same shade of hope.

“I’d like that.”

——

Amy was only half exaggerating for Marcus’s benefit. The arrests made in the middle of the night had consumed her day, most of which was spent chasing down arrest records and recording each piece of evidence. That’s where she was supposed to be now, sifting through the heavy boxes dumped unceremoniously in the evidence locker.

Part of her was looking forward to the distraction from the nervous flutter in her heart.

That same part that was anxiously watching the door for the familiar sight of broad shoulders and an easy smile.

Marcus’s texts from the night prior had become a matter of contention. She read them through once, twice, then a third time, the butterflies rising and sinking with each pass. Finally, when it was apparent nothing new could be gleaned from the two simple messages, she gave up, turning off the last of the lights and falling into the twin bed tucked into the corner alcove of her living room.

It was the ring of her cell phone and not her alarm that woke her the next day, Derek’s voice tired but thrumming, a disarming energy he only seemed to have when something big was going down. When she walked into the precinct an hour earlier than usual, a report was thrust into her hands and she spotted one detail almost immediately. A tip that snowballed the three arrests called in late last night.

Right around when Marcus had texted her about giving him a call.

The pieces were starting to click into place after that, the text messages that had her heart flipping took on a new context. She barely had time to laugh at herself before she dove headfirst into her work, the stack of papers on her desk rivaled only by the number of times her name was called. By 9 she was nearly cross-eyed, going in for her third cup of coffee, the taste all together too bitter but still delicious. She took a moment to drink it, willing her heartbeat to slow to something manageable before picking up her phone and cradling it between her ear and shoulder, dialing Marcus’s number with practiced ease.

He had been anxious on the phone, his voice nearly an octave higher, and Amy swore she could hear the smile in his voice when he suggested bringing her coffee. It’s not an offer Marcus makes regularly, the two of them always content to drink from the pot that sits just behind her desk, no matter the number of faces he pulls after every sip. Still, she hates how she wonders if his offer, in all its kind sincerity, was still part of their lie.

There isn’t much time to dwell on any of it. She spots the broad shape of Marcus Moreno’s shoulders pushing through double doors at the front of the building and breaking her train of thought. Amy curses again, this time out loud, her breath catching in her throat at the sight of him, her defenses falling by the wayside when she sees his smile.

They lock eyes briefly and she smiles, ducking her head to scribble across a post-it note. The message is vague at best, but she’s confident Marcus will understand, and with one more smile sent in his direction she turns away.

——

There are exactly three coffee shops between Heroics headquarters and the 98th precinct. Two chains that serve fine if not overpriced coffee, the menu always reflecting some sort of fad– cold foam, olive oil espresso, pistachio sugar. Things Marcus had no desire to try let alone figure out how to order.

The third option was small, tucked between a used bookstore and a pawn shop. No sign on the door except for the little plastic one reading OPEN, the rest of the window filled with art; large paintings in bright vibrant colors, smaller self-portraits done in shades of gray, pieces of metal and glass fused together and catching in the sunlight. He had found it by accident one day, stepping inside the doorway to take a phone call and catching the scent of freshly baked pastries.

He had immediately brought Amy a cup, and the two of them had quickly decided the coffee (and the muffin he had brought for them to split) were perfect. It never grew past that, the two of them falling back to Amy’s truly horrendous brew the very next time Marcus stopped by. And even through his grimace, he somehow found himself preferring it.

But he remembered clearly how her eyes had slipped shut, a soft hum, almost like a purr, parting her lips and a deep sort of contentment filling out her features. It would be impossible to forget.

He has that exact order in his hands now, and after catching Amy’s eye, he makes his way to her empty desk, keeping note of the direction she’s moving in, out of the corner of his eye. Waiting for him amongst her clutter is a Post-it note, a number scribbled in the bottom left corner in black pen.

And just below that, easily mistaken for a forgotten doodle – a small heart.

Heat blooms in his cheeks, matching the affection pooling in his heart. He exchanges the coffee cups and paper bag for the Post-It, tucking it into his pocket before turning and following in the direction Amy had headed. She’s waiting for him down on the third floor, the low-lit basement enough to conceal the smiles they trade.

“Hey,” she breathes, and Marcus is quick to match it, his own greeting falling out of him in a hush. He doesn’t hesitate, stepping into her space, close enough to smell her perfume, clean and sweet and mixing perfectly with the notes of coffee on her breath.

She tilts her chin, just enough to look him in the eye, searching for the answer to a question she hasn’t asked. Her bottom lip catches between her teeth, and before he can stop himself, he’s reaching up as if to smooth her bite away. He’s hopeless, wondering what it would feel like to let the pad of his thumb drag slowly across the plush pink of her lip. They stay that way for a beat longer, a far more awkward version of their almost kiss, before finally they’re both laughing, bodies falling forward to muffle the sound.

It feels like enough for them to find their footing, the ground of their friendship solid again beneath their feet. She feels familiar and settled, a comfort in his arms that reminds Marcus that whatever this couldn’t possibly be a mistake. Not as long as Amy kept laughing just like this.

“Okay,” she starts, her cheeks red and her smile wide, fingers finding the bend of his elbow. “I’ve been dragging my feet on processing these guys. Derek’s already had his go at them and he should be out until this afternoon.”

“How much time can you buy me?”

“The two that are going upstate won’t be moved until 4 at the earliest, but there’s no telling with the one who made bail. Someone claiming to be his girlfriend has been blowing up our phone lines.”

“You think she’s lying about who she is?”

“I don’t think he’s the one she’s worried about.”

Amy squeezes his arm again, the palm of her hand dragging down to hold his. She shakes her head, as if to push one singular thought away, worry creasing across her brow. Marcus nods and then, taking a cue from her own gentle touch, he squeezes at her hip, just once, before stepping away.

“I’ll start with him then.”

“Last room on the left. The door is locked.”

She doesn’t offer him a key. She knows he won’t need it.

“I’ll be up at my desk waiting for you to get back from the bathroom?”

“You’d think I’d remember to go before heading over here by now,” he jokes, delighting at the way she mockingly rolls her eyes. She turns away but Marcus can’t help himself, stopping her just as she’s about to press her foot into the bottom step, calling her name out into the dark.

“Hey, Amy?”

“Yeah?”

“What are your plans for tonight?”

——

A/N: This story continues to just be so much fun to write. I hope all of you who are reading are having just as much fun as I am. Thank you, endlessly, for reading!

#marcus moreno #marcus moreno fic #marcus moreno x ofc #marcus moreno fanfic #we can be heroes fic #we can be heroes

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seekfelt · 2 years ago

Text

4* Gemini Yachiyo Tsuruhime - Bond Stories

To die together, like Castor and Pollux... Isn't that what we should've been?

The True Esssence of Fear

Location: Siegfeld Rehearsal Room

Yachiyo: (Gemini is a constellation split in two. To express that, this costume has a black-and-white asymmetrical look... The lace and decor work to tie everything together.

That's what I was going for, at least! It'd honestly look better if the top was all-white.)

But two brothers, huh... I'm still not sure whether to play Castor or Pollux at all—)

Karen: WOAH, is that one of the Star Celebrate costumes???

Yachiyo: W—... Jeez, Karen-san!?!?

Karen: Heheheh! Surprised to see little ol' me? Shiori-chan told me you were near, so I thought I'd visit.

I knocked, but nobody answered, so I took a peek!

Yachiyo: That's not~... Why'd you come to Siegfeld?

Karen: What the what? I sent you a text, right??

I was all like, "Thanks for supervising my Taurus! I'd love to talk more about the constellations, so I'll be there!!"

Yachiyo: I didn't get... a text...?

Karen: Huh. HUH.

HUUUUUUUUUUUH????

I'm sorry!! I sent it to Hikari-chan by mistake!!!!!

I got a reply like, "I'll wait. No need to inform beforehand." and I came right here.. but...

Yachiyo: So your first instinct's to always text Hikari-san?

*giggle* That's so cute...! You two must be really good friends♪

Karen: I'm sooo sorry... Now I made Hikari-chan wait too... Maybe I should write up an apology...!?

Yachiyo: Do as you like~ I'm still checking over the costumes, so it'll be a short while before we get to discuss the constellations anyway.

[Some time later]

Karen: *sigh*... There's the metric ton of "Karen, you numbskull"...

Yachiyo: Done with my work♪ So, did Hikari-san forgive you?

Karen: Yup. She said she'll forgive me if I could withstand polishing my tiptoe—... my pointe technique!

Ugh... Hikari-chan's a harsh teacher, though, so! I'll have to prepare myself!!

Yachiyo: ...Sure is nice to feel that way.

Karen: Feel that way...? In what way?

Yachiyo: It's nice to feel supported by your loved ones, I mean!♪

Karen: Ohhh! That! I know right!? Makes me feel like I'm over the moon~!

Karen (Io): "That's why I, Taurus, would like to get a return on that favor.

Tell me the story of you twins, closer than anyone else."

Yachiyo: Aha... ha... Isn't it a bit sudden...

Karen: WDYM?

Yachiyo: Thing is... I'm still a bit unsure on how to play Gemini, so...

Karen: Oh, I see... Being asked to do an etude without a script's always a surprise!

Yachiyo: Exactly. "The constellations shining in the sky will lead you, shooting star, to tomorrow..."

Karen: Mhm! A story about us giving our most precious things, then leading the shooting star onto the next constellation!!

Yachiyo: This "most precious thing" business is a bit vague to me.

Based on the star sign, sure, but then it's up to the performer to choose... You feel?

Karen: Yeah...

Oh, I got it!! If you're having so much trouble, how about we try consulting Gemini directly?

Yachiyo: ...

Karen: Sooo from what I remember, the story of Gemini is—

Yachiyo: ....Originally based on two sons of Zeus, Castor and Pollux.

They were very close, but the elder Castor was only a mere mortal. Pollux, the younger, was blessed with the power of the gods, giving him immortality.

In battle, Castor loses his life...

Karen: WHAT?!?

Yachiyo: Lotsa twists and turns in this tale~ Then, in mourning, Pollux begged to his father Zeus:

Yachiyo (Pollux): "I implore you, deal me the same death as my dear brother. We were born together, so I plead to you, for us to die together as well—"

Yachiyo: Touched, Zeus took half of Pollux's divinity and ascended the brothers to the heavens... Theeeee end♪

Karen: O-Oh...

tumblr

Yachiyo: Ahahaha! A beautiful tale, is it not♪ The love between two brothers is super—

Karen: Y... Yachiyo-chan?

Yachiyo-chan... why are you crying?

Yachiyo: Huh...?

Even if Thousands of Years Were to Pass[1]

Yachiyo: I'm... crying...?

O-Oh!! I am!! Why the hell am I crying on my own... Ahaha, sorry, this is embarrassing~

Karen: Yachiyo-chan...

Yachiyo: Um. You see... I'm not really the type to discuss things like these with others... so I end up just monologuing.

There's another precious half of "me".

She'd stand on stage beside me when nobody would... Ever since I was a kid, she guided and protected my heart.

Karen: Just like me and Hikari-chan!!!

Yachiyo: Wow~ Do we really compare to such a lovely relationship?

But, yes, close enough... She was just that important to me, like she was the stage itself.

A lot's happened, though. Now she's watching me from the audience—

Karen: The audience... So she isn't with you on stage anymore?

Yachiyo: Yeah! I've made some great friends, and I've found the place where I belong, so she conceded "that" spot in my life to them.

But that's exactly why—I'm scared.

Karen: Scared?

Yachiyo: After staying with me all these years, I wonder how she looks at me now.

From the audience, she can see me. But when I'm on stage? It's so bright, I can't even see her... That's why I'm so scared.

Karen: ...

Yachiyo: Is it really okay for me to be the one enjoying these brilliant days?

For me to be surrounded by my friends? Clashing with them?

For me to be the only one moving on with my life?

To die together, like Castor and Pollux... Isn't that what we should've been?

I just can't help but worry... How does she view me now? Is she angry, perhaps—

Karen: YOU'RE FINE!!!!!!!

Yachiyo: Huh...?

Karen: You said she's like the stage itself for you, right? That must definitely 100% mean.... You're fine!!!!!

'Cuz I know Yachiyo-chan loves the stage VERY, VERY MUCH!!!!!

Yachiyo: Y-You're being pushy...

I'm just saying she might hate me now. If my "most precious" feels that way, I...

Karen (Io): "Let's hear it, then, Gemini... From the other you."

Yachiyo: !!

Karen (Io): "Your story, your way of life... Tell me this, and the 'most precious thing' born from it."

Yachiyo: ...I—

tumblr

???? (Castor): "You wanna know how I feel about my li'l bro? I'm MAD! He's being an idiot!"

Karen (Io): "Of course, that anger..."

???? (Castor): "I knew he wanted to die with me! I know!! But I wanted him to LIVE FOR ME!!"

Karen (Io): "*chuckle*... Just as I thought!"

???? (Castor): "He better get that in his thick little head, yeah? I know he can, worrying over me so damn much."

"But y'know... It cheers me up, seeing him look at me that way."

Karen (Io): "It does?"

???? (Castor): "Whenever that kid thinks of me, our hearts begin to form a harmony.

We are a pair of stars. Do you know the name of the radiance that unites two into one?"

Karen (Io): "This radiance... Could you tell me?"

???? (Castor): "*giggle* Yes! Of course, I'll tell you. Our most precious thing to give to the Shooting Star—"

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???? & Yachiyo (Castor & Pollux): "Its name... is love."

This is related to Yachiyo and Chitose's names. Yachiyo means "eternity" while Chitose means "a thousand years". The "chi" in both names is the 千 (thousand) in the title of the bond story.

#shoujo kageki revue starlight relive #starira #24;tsuruhime #1;aijou #????:chitose #HELLO.

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ashadeintheshade · 7 months ago

Note

City of Angels, 8 and 9 for the fic ask!

Hey, ya'll are fantastic people for sending me asks!!! I'm SUPER lame for having reblogged this very fun ask game and then like, gone off tumblr for days. Unintentional!

Thanks so much for the ask @heyitszev!! Unashamedly, I love talking about COA, so, yay!

City of Angels, Fic Ask Game

8: Did any real people or events inspire any part of it?

This is such a good question and one I don't think I've really thought of before. The easiest answer is that Christine is me, but I don't mean in a self-insert into fic way. I mean that I worked out (unintentionally, really, unknowingly) a lot of things while she worked them out too. I had panic attacks, so she did also. I was graduating college when I started the fic, and her absolute attachment to that place was mine. I can't say that any of the other characters or plot points were particularly based off any specific real event or person, other than the fact that I once did attend a sort of competition thing for singers in New England to end up at the Met, which is how Christine gets there too.

9: Were there any alternate versions of this fic?

Hoo boy, were there. HOO BOY, WERE THERE. It's so funny to even think about trying to explain the original versions to people who know it as it is now. First of all, the ORIGINAL plot line had Erik say, as Lerik does, that everyone should be dead and buried. He blew up the Campbell building, intentionally, knowing tons of people lived there, and he wasn't sorry. This got changed in like, chapter... 12?? When I realized this Christine could absolutely, positively never forgive the actual murderer of her father. So it had to become something slightly less bad lol. Just a little oops. Other original plot lines involved Madeleine actually being alive but having been driven crazy somehow by the poison she took ala Sweeney Todd, and Erik finding her in Los Angeles when he and Christine go together. Listen... this story went through a lot haha. It's been ten years since I started writing it!

A special shout-out must be given to @flora-gray for helping move COA from the original plot lines that didn't work to the ones that I feel do in the current version. We talked about this almost three years ago now! Thanks Flora!!!

#city of angels #COA #ask game for my fic!!!!!!!!!!!!!#my dream!!!#a fic writers dream!!#just talk about my fic all day!! lol #i love it #i could just ramble about this all day long bless #my fic #i love the supportive phandom and tumblr community when it comes to writing #thank you guys #thanks for asking!

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fonulyn · 2 years ago

Note

3 fic questions:

1: Which fic took you the longest to write?

2: Which fic did you have the most fun writing?

3: Which fic was the "fine! I'll do it myself!" fic?

ohhhh these are so hard :'D but let's try!

...and I'm gonna apologize in advance because two and three are gonna have so many answers, but I've literally written over 200 RE fics so it's impossible for me to choose 😅 i'm sorry and bear with me.

only the courage to continue counts (Piers/Leon, re4 au, past!Krauser/Leon)

this one was easy lol. it took me a long long time mostly because it's 93k, which is like three times as long as my next longest fic. simply getting out that many words took a while! also, I almost gave up after chapter 4 because literally no one was reading it and I wondered if it's worth it to keep going. had a good cry about it, lol, and angsted about it for a bit. but re4 is my favorite (surprise!) so I decided it'd be worth it. and honestly? I think it was. it's a good fic. I'm happy with how it turned out. ...but i don't think i have another this long fic in me tbh, i just can't do it alone.

2. this is trickier because there's so many :'D first, the entire pinnacle of self-indulgence series because it's what I return to when I want something low-stress, no expectations, where I can just have them be as domestic as I want. it hasn't always been tons of fun, because sometimes i use it to vent other feels, but it means a lot to me.

smooth talking, Nivans, very smooth was also tons of fun, making Piers put his foot in his mouth repeatedly just because of how into Leon he is? :'D it still makes me grin lol.

also the other maybe-a-little-cracky-ones; maybe he's born with it (the is Leon a true blond??? fic), the prettiest agent with the prettiest hair (the Piers stress-braids Leon's hair fic), and how to accidentally get adopted - a guide by Piers Nivans (Piers accidentally keeps calling Chris "dad" and gets sorta adopted by him and Leon) - idk i guess I really enjoy writing stuff that's not exactly very serious :'D

i also had a shitton of fun writing three words to last forever, even if two of its three endings have major character death in them lol. but i've always wanted to do a choose-your-own-ending fic! so it was super fun! if i had the energy i would love to do another where you get to choose different paths, but they all lead to the same ending eventually.

others I had tons of fun writing include winter lovin' (there's snow one like you) where Piers and Leon vacation in Finland (yay!), you're feeding the fire within me where they get a dose of Rebecca's new Super-Viagra (a sex-pollen fic lol), driving deep into your heart which is a completely random au where Piers is a motorcycle racer :'D, carpe diem (seize the day) which is a smutty genderswap fic, and fall in love so easy where Leon learns he enjoys being called pet-names.

i'm just gonna stop now because otherwise I'm gonna end up listing twenty more. but honestly, like I said before, I've written 200+ RE fics so :'D this is hard lmao. I genuinely like most fics I've written. and I genuinely enjoyed writing most of them. I'm sorry this is such a non-answer :'D

3. this also has the potential to become a mess like question number two lmao. the vast majority of what I write is "fine! I'll do it myself!" fics. like, almost every single Piers/Leon fic I've written belongs in this category since, well, if I don't no one will :'D also a lot of my Krauser/Leon are things I wanted but didn't find (although I gotta give a shoutout to the pair in general, there are a lot of quality metaltango fics out there that I could never do).

aside from that, after scrolling through my fics, I realized most of the fics I wrote after not finding what I wanted to read are ...porn :'D lmao I often go look for something specific, don't find it, and have no choice but to do it myself!

as examples, I am the light that shall lead you to darkness (Wesker/Chris dubcon, I just wanted Chris to get nailed lmao), without hope, without fear (Jason/Leon monsterfucking, and I gotta say, I'm still bummed the pairing didn't take off at all it's got all kinds of potential goddamnit [also I keep wanting to write another of these two but ehhh] but i won't rant more here), on an all time high (Leon/Queen Plaga, I just... had a major need :'D), lost control (Leon/Lickers, what can I say, I had a major need lmaooo), kiss before the fall (Jake/Piers, this pairing deserves so much more love ok), ravishing (Chris/Jill, I just wanted Jill worshipped ok, and there's another similar one rattling in my brain but I haven't gotten to writing it, idk if i ever will).

so like. smut :'D apparently I have specific likes and have to cater to myself lmao.

OKAY BUT now I'll shut up for real. thank you for the ask! gave me a perfect excuse to reread my own fics lol. and I'm sorry for such non-answers :'D I just can't choose lol.

#anonymous #ask and i shall answer #me and my fics #looots of fics lmao

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thebreakfastgenie · 2 years ago

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for WIP asks the 4th of july fic.

and ik you were already quite generous with it but would love to hear anything else about 69

Sorry it took so long to get to this one! I was really excited about it and then I was either too busy or too tired to answer it properly!

The 4th of July fic my take on a time loop. It's contained within GFA. Hawkeye relives July 4th, 1953, over and over again, trying desperately to prevent tragedy on the bus, while no one else remembers. I was actually influenced a lot by Slaughterhouse-5, even though it's not a time loop. Billy Pilgrim is unstuck in time and sometimes that means he's living his post war life and wakes up back in the bombing of Dresden. That's certainly what PTSD can feel like. So I started thinking about how I could use a time loop as a narrative device.

The time loop takes the emotional experience of reliving a traumatic event over and over again in your mind, of being trapped in that moment, and makes it a physical one. A common component of time loop stories is that the protagonist must prevent something terrible from happening, and only when the bad outcome is averted will the loop be broken. This, too, reflects an emotional experience, the constant "what could I have done differently? how could I have stopped this?" Maybe the real time loop was the trauma we had along the way.

In this case, Hawkeye is trying to save the lives of everyone on the bus. I don't want to say too much about the loop, because part of the story is going to be figuring that out as Hawkeye does. Just as the loop is about trauma, breaking the time loop is about moving forward. This fic gets very heavy and dark towards the middle, but it's not a pure angst fic, it's just what the story requires. In the end I would say it's about choosing hope.

The idea is basically what if GFA was a time loop, and we only saw one iteration of it? That means it's fairly canon-compliant. I'm also trying to incorporate a lot of details from GFA. I can't share a snippet, but I'm hoping to finish it by July 4th, 70 years after the day it's set, so if I manage it you'll see it soon!

****

I am more than happy to share more about untitled 69. I'm trying to motivate myself to work on it, at least once 4th of july is done. I had a ton of momentum on it a few months ago and then I got sick and it got left in this very chaotic, mid-draft-reorganization state. This fic was supposed to just open with Trapper at the reception for the new chief of thoracic surgery, where he meets Charles, but in true me fashion, I ended up getting into Trapper's homecoming and emotional state and in the process writing about a bunch of stuff that happened earlier. One thing I'm excited about is how Trapper relates (or doesn't) to his colleagues. He has one friend who's close enough to know about Hawkeye, because I needed someone to bounce Trapper off of in dialogue, and I really love the dynamic that developed between them. I don't think this snippet is as good as the last one, but:

Trapper tugged at his collar. He was having trouble breathing, though he knew that had more to do with the fog of cigarette smoke than the snugness of his tuxedo. If Louise were here, she would scold him—it had taken her ages to get his bowtie right—but she wasn’t here, so she could keep her comments to herself. Louise hated these things almost as much as he did. Working class girls either grew up into women who loved glamor or hated it, and Louise had never seen any use for it. It was one of the things he loved best about her, and probably what drew him to the nurses in Korea, besides proximity—their short fingernails and practical attitudes.

This is Trapper being miserable at the party (more on that later!) and me fleshing out both him and Louise a little bit.

#thank you!!!#this one really did take so long because I wanted to do it right lol

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in-my-feels-probably · 2 years ago

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HEEYYY! CONGRATS ON 800 LOVE<3 How are you?

It sounded too fun for me to not join your celebration so here it is! i wanna say grishaverse like any character from both book series and i don't have a gender preference and ofc romantically cause i have no romance in my life.

Next year i'm going to study english literature in uni as a second language and i have always wanted to be a writer so studying literature is something i'm really exited about. I'm an enfp! My best friend once said my personality is like Elizabeth bennet's and i never forget that cause it's such an honor. i usually hyperfixate on reading or i binge watch and in the end i burn out for a few days. I LOVE drawing but i can't draw so it's always so funny when i try. I love harry potter's opening music(?) It's SO comforting. i don't use any social media very actively because i get overwhelmed by it really easy. And i apparently love oversharing on the internet.

Im sorry this is long i got carried away. Thank you for existing and please don't forget to drink water and eat, have really great day/night, love you<3

hi!

thank you for participating :)

i’m good btw, thanks for asking. i hope you’re good too. first of all, taste. i adore james potter. you and me sound very similar actually, i bet you’re really fun to hang out with.

anyways, i ship you with nikolai!

being a prince, he’s probably done his fair share of reading. i don’t think he reads in his free time, but i do think he’d appreciate a good book or quote. so while he might not read, maybe he’d ask you to read it him or tell him what the book you’re reading is about. and if you were writing, he’d be happy to bounce ideas off you so he could help. might as well put that high education to good use. and i think he loves music. “its enough to make a grown man cry,” is definitely something he’d say to you when he found a piece that he really loved.

i think he’d get along well with an enfp. elizabeth bennet is probably one of his ideal personalities that he’d want in a partner, so if you’re like that, he’d count himself lucky. someone who’s outgoing enough to keep a conversation going, but also someone content to just be calm and serene with him. he’d definitely love witty banter, but he’d also love some peace and quiet too, except i don’t think he likes being alone. so being with someone who’s happy to just be in his presence, and be there if he needs someone to talk to, he’d really value that.

i think he really understand burnout. he constantly has a million things running through his head, and tons of ideas, and there’s just no time to execute them all. once he did have time for his ideas, he’d get really frustrated when he couldn’t execute them well. he’d need some kind distraction, and you’d be more than happy to provide one.

he’d hear you coming, immediately relaxing when you took a seat beside him. “hello, darling.”

“are you alright?” you’d ask, frowning when he rested his head on your shoulder and sighed. “bad day?”

“very long day,” he’d answer, reaching for one of your hands. “waste of time, too.”

he’d show you his sketches he drew up when trying to create the flying ship, and you’d smile, taking a piece of parchment and a quill from him.

“i’ve got this,” you’d grin, immediately sketching away. you knew it would be terrible, but the smile on his face would be worth it.

he’d laugh so hard that he’d nearly make himself sick, settling himself into your arms. he’d consider getting you lessons, but he knew you didn’t draw because you wanted to be a great artist. it was purely for fun, and it made you smile, just like you made him smile.

“it’s terrible, darling,” he’d say, wrapping one arm around you while holding the parchment in the other. “i love it!”

#grishaverse #shadow and bone #nikolai lantsov #800 followers #800 followers celebration #followers celebration

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greensparty · 5 months ago

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Talking with Jim Sullivan

In the Boston music scene, Jim Sullivan has been quite a tastemaker for decades. He began writing about music and pop culture for The Boston Globe in 1979 and remained there until 2005. He is still in touch with national and local music today, writing for WBUR's The ARTery. He has been a fly on the wall for so much great music and rubbing elbows with so many rockers over the years. Last year saw the release of his books Backstage & Beyond: 45 Years of Modern Rock Chats and Rants Vol. 1 and 2, which were just released in paperback editions and in an E-book all-in-one version with some added chapters not featured in Vol. 1 or 2.

The books are a collection of encounters he has had with a number of musicians over the years notably David Bowie, Lou Reed, The Kinks, Leonard Cohen, Neil Young, Alice Cooper, The Clash, The Police, Talking Heads, and U2. There is also quite an emphasis on Boston rockers The J. Geils Band, The Cars, The Pixies, and of course Aerosmith!

I recently caught up with Mr. Sullivan via phone. We have been connected on social media for a while now and have a ton of mutual friends in common, but we hadn't actually talked until now. When I mentioned that I read his articles in the music section of the Globe as a teen, he said "So I have both influenced and damaged your life". Ha! That's one way of looking at it!

author Jim Sullivan

Me: What's cool about these books is that it's like a compendium of your "greatest hits" in a way.

JS: In a way it is. It sort of expanded and shifted perspective a bit, and certainly if I had talked to an artist over an expansive time, the stories kind of merged together. The other thing I did was put myself a little more in the story to set the scene and what the relationship with me and the other person might've been. And through the inside details that would not have shown up in a newspaper type story.

Me: These books are really a who's who of music history. But is there any musician who you never got to meet or interview that you always wanted to?

JS: I guess my standard answer to that is either Mick [Jagger] or Keith [Richards] back in the day. When the Rolling Stones were creating more new music. I guess they are now as well, so I guess they would be now as well. But when they talked it was with my partner at the Globe, Steve Morse, he kind of did the inside track on them. He would handle anything Stones-wise. Whereas I would handle mostly The Who, The Kinks, Bowie, Roxy Music - a pretty good list, so I wasn't that sorry that Steve took the Stones. But from a personal point of view, it would've been fun to do that.

Me: Let's talk about Aerosmith. I'm a lifelong fan, I've met them, and I've seen them live countless times. You have a chapter on guitarist Joe Perry. You have actually become friends with them, including bassist Tom Hamilton, who you golf with. What's it like to hang out with them, not to do an interview but just to hang out, golf and talk about life?

JS: One of the best hangs we had - Tom and Joe were both there - was at the Hollywood Vampires show in Boston last year. It's funny because I golfed with Alice [Cooper] during the day and then said "Hey, I'll see you tonight" and we had backstage passes (my wife and I) and we went back before the show. Joe was in the band, so he was there, and then Tom showed up and their wives too. It was kind of a family affair. It was nice, we had plenty of time to talk. It was fun, off the record, just talking to Joe and Tom about life itself. Also fun stepping back to watch Joe and Tom interact, which was really quite sweet. They've been together off and on, it's not a steady line (as you well know) from the beginning to now. But to see that that friendship still existed and that easy camaraderie they had there, it was great to just observe. Just realizing that these guys have been through a lot and at the end of the day they've remained friends and just enjoy each other's company. Nice to just kind of watch.

Tom joined our little golf gang a few years ago. He has been a fairly frequent participant. It's fun because Tom is good and bad like the rest of us. He does not come off in any rock star kind of way. He dresses in black, which I tend to as well. But there's no way anyone on the golf course would say "Hey, that's Tom Hamilton of Aerosmith". I mean if somebody does recognize him, he's fine with it, take a picture or something like that. For him it's a good escape, like it is for us. Reality doesn't exist for four or five hours. You get to hammer away at something you sometimes succeed at and often fail at. Tom, like the rest of us, smiles when he gets a good shot and curses like a sailor when he doesn't. [laughs] Joe is kind of interesting too. During the COVID-19 shutdown, we sort of formed a bit of a bond over the phone. I did stories on the shutdown, did stories on Aerosmith. There was one time in particular I remember where he rang up, out of the blue, said hey. And I said "Is this an interview" and he said no, but I asked if I wanted to tape it and anything good came out of it, you good with that? and he said "Oh yeah, sure". We talked for about 45 minutes or so. Good things came out of that. We've spent some good time together. It doesn't extend to dinner parties in his home, but it's certainly a good relationship both personal and professional.

book covers

Me: I was actually at that Hollywood Vampires show (see my concert pics here). In terms of these 2 volumes you released, could there be another volume with more interviews and stories?

JS: There could be. There's a few possibilities I've written down. We've talked about doing it, but we'll see.

Me: In your chapter about Peter Wolf, you asked him why he stayed in Boston after getting famous. I wanted to ask you a similar question: Did you ever think about leaving Boston and covering music in another city?

JS: Only slightly. I mean, you're aware of what's going on in other cities, pre-internet, getting tips from people living in other places. But I got in at the Globe pretty early when I was 22 as a freelancer. The Globe was a great paper and at that point and time especially and for quite a while when I was there, the Globe had a lot of space to fill and it was making money hand-over-fist, so they could afford to send me places even as a freelancer to L.A. or Minneapolis or Chicago, Detroit or wherever. So there was a lot of freedom to both travel and get stories and a lot that came in to Boston. Anything that came to New York, be it from England or anywhere else in the U.S., if they played New York they were going to play Boston. So even if New York was a hotter scene overall, Boston - I thought - was pretty damn close, so the overlapping bands was probably 98%. I felt I could cover as many of those groups as I wanted to here as any place. Also - the Globe was great. It was a very supportive environment and good editors. Long way of saying, I liked working in Boston and then, of course, friendships, etc. that I made over the years.

For info on Backstage and Beyond Vol. 1 and 2

#jim sullivan #interview #books #music journalism #backstage and beyond #aerosmith #joe perry #tom hamilton #peter wolf #music nerd

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sadnesslaughs · 2 years ago

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Everyone on Earth wakes up with a number on their wrist indicating how many lives they’ve impacted. You, an unremarkable person working a mundane job, have a number exponentially higher than anyone else.

“So, Ian, how did you do it? What’s your secret to happiness? I heard Mr. Wilkins messaged you about a movie deal? Can you make a comment about that?” The heat from the studio lights was stinging my skin, making me squirm whenever the technician adjusted them. How did I end up here? I was just some guy that flipped pizzas, not the holder of happiness or whatever buzzwords they threw at me.

“Um. Sorry, what did you say?” I was lost, trying to unravel the questions he hurled at me. The interviewer holding a perfect white smile, one that didn’t cause a single dimple in his cheeks. Whoever did his plastic surgery had clearly earned their money.

“Haha. Oh, you radiate positivity. You’ve got me smiling.” He laughed and looked at the audience. Each member clapping and applauding, following the instructions of the teleprompter sitting by the edge of the stage. “Ok, let’s keep it simple. I won’t overload our star. How did you do it? How did you become the beacon of happiness?”

“Beacon of happiness? I’m not sure. I’m a pretty normal guy. I don’t do anything extraordinary. I pretty much only go to work and walk home. That’s my entire day.” I could tell nothing I was saying was impacting him. That number staying still on my wrist. I did glance at it between pauses, wondering if there was even a point to being on tv.

“Humble too. Come on. How do you do it?” He leaned forward in his chair, making me scoot back into mine. There was something unsettling about this. I tried to think of an excuse to give him. What answer would satisfy his curiosity? I pondered that before deciding to stick with honesty.

“Really. There’s nothing special about me. I can’t imagine I’ve improved any lives in any meaningful way. Not like others. There're tons of people that do great work and deserve this attention more. People that help others with depression, homelessness and other issues. Those people deserve this more.” I said, hoping that the answer had taken some of the pressure off.

“Oh, so you’re keeping it to yourself?” The hostility reached a peak as he sat on the edge of his seat, staring me down.

“No. I-“

“You what? Are you going to write a book about it or find a way to market yourself? I bet you have a manager in your ear telling you exactly what to say.” The crowd looked as confused as I did, not expecting the outburst. Some booed when the teleprompter told them too, while others shared the awkward silence that I held.

“I.. I should go.” I fidgeted with the microphone under my shirt, dropping it onto the floor as hurried out of the studio. As I passed one of his assistants, I got a tap on the shoulder.

“You should go back out there. It’s a bad look to walk out on a show. It will make you look guilty.” She said, trying to shoo me towards the studio. I stepped past her, shaking my head.

“No. I should go. Sorry.” I doubt she had my best interests at heart. Who knows what the footage would show tomorrow when they edited it? Would I even come across in a decent light? When I exited the building, I took a long breath, sucking in that fresh air I had been missing. What a disaster. I knew they would ask me about it, but I still hadn’t planned an answer. Should I have said something corny like be positive? Is that what he wanted to hear?

I began the walk home, wondering how I did it. What was my secret? Was there something about my pizza flipping that impacted people’s lives? Sure, pizza held a pretty big significance in a lot of lives, but enough to impact people?

“Excuse me, sir. Do you have the time?” A soft voice spoke up behind me. I turned around and smiled at the short older woman. A purple knitted scarf wrapped snugly around her neck, keeping her warm during her stroll.

“Of course. It’s a little past 3pm.” After saying that, I felt compelled to mention something that had caught my eye. “That’s a cute scarf. Did you make it?” Her eyes lit up after I asked. It was as if she had been waiting months for someone to ask that question.

“Yes. I made it a while ago. It was getting cold, so I thought I would save a few dollars and make my own. It’s a pretty color, isn’t it? I actual chose this color because it reminded me of the flowers my husband gave me on our first date.” She continued to tell me her little story, and I happily listened. I wasn’t in a rush and it was a charming tale of love at first sight. When she was done, we parted ways. My day already feeling a little better after that.

It wasn’t until I got home that I noticed the number on my wrist had ticked a little higher. To think such a small conversation had made an impact. Even an insignificant gesture can make someone’s life that little bit better. I wish I realized that before the interview.

#short stories #writing #writing prompt #story #writer

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shaarlslec · 2 years ago

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b7 with carlos!! omg please!!

Prompt: All the small things you do - I love them.

thank you so much for your request (carlos intimidates me even in writing btw), sorry that it took this long!! let me know if you like it;;

masterlist

kisses and jazz

short-summary: just like the title says, kisses and jazz with a very fluffy carlos sainz;

words: 2615 & warnings: none, just pure fluff;

The first time when you knew you were both in love with each other was when your chests filled with sparks of bright nimble lights heavily lifted together at the same time in a heavy breath while looking in each other’s eyes understanding that your lips were searching for another pair to fit them since the very first time you met while they stood inches apart.

That happened during one of the nights when everyone else was deeply sleeping around you two. Your friends were drunkenly snoring in random spots around Sainz’s house after countless hours of partying, while you and Carlos were the only ones still standing after tons of drinking, dancing and fooling around. That was your little group of friends’ favorite activities.

The party ended up as they always do, with you and Carlos picking up empty bottles and making a game out of how many and how fast each of you were able to toss them in the trash – it was a ritual at this point. You two were the ones that always did the cleaning after each hang-out no matter in whose house, and that was your little funny excuse of being alone without examining eyes of other people.

“Ten in fifteen seconds.” You proudly announced, chuckling at Carlos who was trying to get one of the bottles from behind the kitchen counter while stumbling on his own tipsy feet.

“I am so going to out-race you.” Carlos declared while his head was spinning as he haphazardly went back to his feet after a good minute trying to grab the green glass’s neck from the tight spot it was stuck in while on his knees and with your eyes peering at the man’s loose shirt hanging around his torso, “Oh, I spoke too fast.” Sainz then tittered, getting his balance back by grabbing the edges of the counter after a loud and heavy sigh that made you worry about his current state, “I think I drank too much to.” Carlos then spoke, with the back of his palm rubbing his forehead trying to hold his brains together at this point.

“You did.” You answered, getting close to him to pick the bottle from his hand, “Eleven, hot-shot.” You winked, throwing the bottle in one of the plastic bags filled with the remains from his twenty-one-birthday party that were recklessly placed on the floor around your feet, “Go to sleep, I can finish the cleaning here – and we can do the rest of the house tomorrow.” You added with a warm smile, patting the man’s shoulder as you titled your head to the right just to watch him better in the dimmed light of the kitchen.

Oh, Carlos was alluring in the darkened white lights. With his hair pushed back, bloody cheeks from all the drinking, eyes sleepily looking down on yours, and eyebrows arched up due to the light headache. You tersely sighed, you could swear to yourself right then and there that you have never seen a man so beautifully handsome standing inches away from you, eating you up whole with just a mere look. You wanted to make him yours, you wanted for those eyes to look at you and only you from now on, you wanted for that ruffled hair to stay ruffled just by your hands in the mornings and late at nights, and for those chuckles of his to become a recurrent sound in your daily routine.

Oh, but was Carlos wishing the same? You wondered once again, you have been wondering that for the last couple of months when he would touch your waist in passing by and every single time when you caught his glare on yours when somebody else besides you two would do the talking within the group and even when there were no words spoken at all, because all that has been happening in between the two of you was done in silence, in comfortable deep silence.

“Happy birthday, cariño.” You muttered then, giving Carlos a short peak on one of his cheeks before sending him to bed, knowing that you were not that brave to straight ask him if he wanted you too – but courageous enough to make a move followed by nothing but a dense fleeting breath that escaped from between your lips, and that Carlos was more than pleased to land on his face.

Right after you kissed him, Carlos’ lips lifted in a grin. Oh, she likes to tease me a little bit too much. Since you were introduced to each other a couple of months ago through your friends’ friend, you two played this dangerous game of wanting to get to know each other as “just friends” when you both knew that the attraction has been there within the first minute when you laid eyes on the other back at the beginning of the year at yet another party. You both knew that, therefore what was the point in pretending that you were not hooked and charmed by the other?

Fear of rejection, maybe. Fear of that going nowhere, possibly. And yet, you had to try – you would have never got the answer to your questions if it was not for him to make the next move.

“Just that?” Carlos inquired, catching your wrists into the grip of his hand, begging you to remain close to him as before, not wanting to let you go back to cleaning when you had an entire horny man right in front of you, gently rubbing one of his thumbs against your skin with such softness as if he never touched other skin before (which he did), but which was nothing alike yours – making his own shiver with just a mere touch of particles.

You took one step further towards him, “You are right.” You whispered in silence anxious about anyone in the house waking up just to find their friends dearly looking into each other’s eyes in the kitchen with their hearts up to their throats, not knowing when the time to make the right move is, “It is your birthday after all, and I have not bought you a gift – how rude of me.” You chuckled, tipping on your toes for your lips to reach the surface of Carlos’ in an instinctive blink of a moment, in a letting go of all the thoughts running into your head and for the first time in forever being unapologetic for your cravings.

Your clash of mouths was short, even shorter than the kiss on the cheek and that only managed to drive Carlos more. Carlos’ eyes softened after the touch, and he felt like his chest was about to burst into flames if he was not to take the next move and wrap his arm around your waist while the one sustaining his body weight on the counter reminded there to make him sure that he was still imbedded into reality – the one in which you just kissed him.

Carlos spoke nothing, and neither were you. You let him guide your hips closer to him while the man leaned from above towards you to get a better hold of your mouth on his, and to get a better taste of your tongue on his own. You have never been kissed like this before, and never has been Carlos so addicted to the taste of somebody else’s before in such a manner. No words were spoken in between the kisses, you were understanding each other only through your heavy breaths when you were able to take gulps of air into your lungs.

Your hand went above Carlos on the counter to maintain your balance too, as you felt your knees weakening with every clash of tongues and snub bites of lips just for the fun of being teases. Carlos took your hand in his, reaching his chest then with your clasped hands so you could feel the man beating heart with the tips of your fingers intertwined with his. It was not a drill, Carlos was not kissing you just for the fun of making out with someone after his birthday party while he was drunk and entertained, the man wanted to be yours too.

You smiled into the kiss, placing your palm on his chest as he let go of your hand so he can sustain your body up on the counter and find his place in between your legs, with now both hands on your back.

You departed after what seemed an entirety to look into each other’s eyes and giggle like two teenagers having their first kiss in the school’s hallway. Back at twenty and twenty-one you were not that far from being high-schoolers, and yet none of you could have guessed back then that the feeling will remain the same when kissing after long periods of time of not seeing each other – neither of you could have predicted that kiss was the beginning of a love like yours.

“That was fun.” You muttered with a silly smile spread all over your face as your arms found their snug place to fit on Carlos’ shoulders, “We should do that again, sometime.” You giggled back, lightly starching the back of the man’s neck, tips of your fingers reaching for the man’s hair as well.

Carlos laughed back, “We can do that as much as you want, whenever and wherever you want to.” He then replied, knowing damn well that the idea was suiting for him too.

Sainz kept his promise, and you did that within the many following days and months, without anyone else in the group knowing about your little escapades. You kept it private for a long time, although the pressure to keep it into each other’s pants when other people where around you two was high. You needed to figure out what everything going in between the two of you was first, and then to declare your undying love to each other in public. Then, came in the countless conversations on topics never discussed between “just friends”, only lovers that try to find each other – and that was when you knew that things were getting serious, and you were not going to hide your relationship from anyone anymore.

None of your friends were really surprised when you outed your relationship, all the sneaking around and the “clean-up” after parties made everything obvious. You laughed about your many fails of not-making-it-obvious for your friends, but none of them were buying the whole “friends” thing right from the start. You and Carlos were never meant to be just friends, love like yours was never meant for just a mere friendship but for something that exceeded that.

Love like this comes fast, and it never dries out when the jokes burst into laughter and curled stomachs in the mornings of the same kitchen you had your first kiss in years ago now while listening to old jazz tunes as you were making breakfast for your boyfriend who has just returned home after another excruciating season in a McLaren (his last, at least).

“I never really liked jazz until I met you.” Carlos confessed to you all the sudden, turning the pancake into the pan quickly giving you one glance over his shoulder as you were placing all the other food on the table.

“You what?” You immediately busted into laughter as you heard his thick Spanish accent on jazz, you have never heard someone else pronouncing the world jazz in such a sweet and cute method.

“I never really liked jazz.” Sainz repeated, and you could feel your heart melt once again at the word, “What?” Carlos confusingly chuckled as you were already holding your stomach with one of your hands.

You shook your head, “Nothing, cariño.” You assured him with a huge smile on your face as you went to hug him from behind, “I just think that you are the cutest human in existence, just that.” You confessed, tightening your arms around his torso as you pressed a long kiss on one of his shoulders, “Look at me, being head over heels over a man who pronounces jazz instead of jazz.” You chuckled once again, as you tried to mimic even the slightest Carlos’ accent but failing miserably at doing so – no one managed to make it sound as adorable as Carlos succeeded.

“I am indeed cute, that is the truth.” Carlos accentuated as he took the pancake out of the pan just to turn around and hold you properly into his arms, “Send me this song that is playing.” He then asked, giving you a short peak on your forehead before going to place the pancakes on the table.

You lifted an eyebrow, Carlos was indeed not a huge fan of jazz and yet, the man listened to your playlist every other morning while you two cooked breakfasts just to please you. As a bonus for him, Carlos adored to watch you slightly cutely waving your body and bumping your head on the known tunes while your mouth muttered the lyrics in a tone even sweeter than the singers’ themselves.

“Why?” You inquired as you took your usual seat next to him with your legs up on his knees while Carlos’ palm covered one of your thighs – your usual favorite position for months now to eat at the table, “You like jazz now?” You joked, taking a bite of the food in your plate.

Carlos nodded, “It grew on me.” He then replied, and you were more than happy to have such an effect on him.

You send him the song after you two ate, and hours later you heard the man’s phone ringing in the same tune. You giggled as he talked with one of the people of his new team; Carlos set the phone’s ringtone that he had never changed since the day he got his phone to one of your favorite songs.

When your boyfriend hanged the phone, you went to snug into his arms on the coach and kissed every single inch of his face, making him all giggly and at the same time confused. You kissed the man’s chin, nose, lips, cheeks and forehead multiple times, and Carlos enjoyed the show very much so. The man returned the favour with hasty pressed kisses on your neck and shoulders, sneaking his head underneath your baggy t-shirt as well to kiss your breasts and collarbones from within in.

“What was that for?” He then asked, eyes now fully fixing yours.

“All the small things you do – I love them.” You simply answered, giving him one short peak like the one back in the kitchen years ago, “The song.” You explained, seeing the confused face of a very please Carlos from underneath the fabric of your shirt, “I love you.” You spoke, hands getting Carlos’ insubordinate strings of hair out from his dovely eyes looking lovely at you.

“I love you too, cariño.” Sainz replied, hands going from your waist up to get the t-shirt both out from you and from him as well, “I still think that there are better music genres rather than jazz, however.” Carlos then commented, making you laugh out loud once again.

“We can work on that.” You nodded, hands cupping the man’s face now that the t-shirt was not in the way anymore, covering the man’s mouth with yours for the tenth time that afternoon. Carlos went back into the couch with you on top of him almost naked, feeling the taste of your lips engulfing his and thinking about how there will never come a time when he will get sick of that sweetness of yours.

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