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kazoosandfannypacks · 1 year ago

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chapter summary: ezra and sabine look for a place to hide onboard a shuttle on thrawn's star destroyer, and end up spending a week stuck in a closet with each other. chapter word count: 3.1K a/n: this chapter has been revolving around my brain like a rotisserie chicken for the last week and a half. i hope you guys enjoy it as well! taglist: @laughingphoenixleader @accidental-spice @kanerallels @piraterefrigerator @jedi-nurse @dootchster @lucasbridger @redroverrider @light-umbra @commander-tech {if you’d like to be added to or removed from my Sabezra taglist, let me know!}

also on ao3!

Chapter 2: Suun Ca'nara

"LS 757, reinforcements have been dispatched to your position."

Ezra quickly let go of Sabine and knelt down to grab the comlink from the fallen stormtrooper at their feet.

"Seven-Five-Seven here," Ezra said into the comlink with a fake voice, "copy."

Ezra turned back to Sabine as he grabbed the trooper's feet. "Help me bring him onto that ship," he said.

"That's your master plan?" Sabine asked, and despite her doubts, she had already taken the trooper's hands and was helping Ezra carry him onboard.

"Hide aboard the shuttle," Ezra said, "in a closet, or something."

"What about you?" Sabine asked.

"Gonna borrow a few things from ol' seven-five-seven here," Ezra nodded down to the trooper, "I'll let them know that the Jedi and the Mandalorian— that's us— didn't make the jump, but managed to take a few shots at us from the ground and shot 'my friend.' Great shot, by the way."

"No problem," Sabine said, as they carried the trooper up the ramp into the shuttle.

"They'll still do routine patrols of the ship after that," Ezra said, "they may come aboard the shuttle if they're feeling ambitious, but there's no way they're checking every closet of every shuttle on this ship for a couple fugitives who aren't even here."

"Alright," Sabine said.

"There should be a closet right here," Ezra said, "this one should be big enough for seven-five-seven, and his gear, once I'm done with it, and we'll hide in the one across the hall. It's close enough to the access ramp and the cockpit that we can make a quick getaway if we need to."

They set the body down in front of the small closet door.

"I'll go make a sweep of the rest of the shuttle," Sabine offered.

"Alright," Ezra said, already untying the sash around his robes.

Sabine took her time searching the rest of the ship, keeping an eye out for stormtroopers. It'd been a while since she really faced any Imperial forces, but she still knew the schematics of the ship well enough to make a thorough sweep.

When she returned, she heard something in the hallway and put a hand to her blaster as she entered.

Fortunately, it was only Ezra, dressed in the stormtrooper's uniform, holding the helmet under his arm.

"Good luck out there," Sabine said.

"Sabine," Ezra raised an eyebrow, "I thought you were a Jedi now."

Savine rolled her eyes, "I suppose you want me to say 'may the force be with you?'"

"It never hurts," Ezra shrugged.

"May the force be with you, Ezra," she smiled.

He smiled as well, and nodded as he responded, "May the force be with you."

Sabine thought she saw him wink at her as he donned his helmet and turned away, but she couldn't be sure. She watched him walk back down the hallway— kriff, the kid had grown up a lot since they first found him on Lothal— then began rearranging the closet.

It was smaller than closets on these ships usually are— some genius had decided to weld a massive cabinet to the floor on one side, and the closet itself had a shelf in the middle that made it impossible to stand in. Still, the shelf was high enough to comfortably sit beneath, and two people might be able to squeeze into the space next to the cabinet, so she started rearranging the supplies in the closet, cramming everything she could onto the top shelf before ducking inside and waiting for Ezra's return.

— — —

By the time the closet door opened again, Sabine's eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and the light radiating around Ezra as he stood in the doorway— no longer dressed like a stormtrooper, but in the same clothes she'd found him in— was almost blinding.

"Got room for one more?" Ezra asked.

"Maybe," Sabine said, shoving herself as close to the wall as she could. Ezra sat down and slid into the closet next to her, and once he was situated, he pulled the door shut with the Force.

"This closet definitely wasn't made for more than one person to hide in," Sabine thought, her arm pressed tightly next to Ezra's, "then again, it probably wasn't made for even one person to hide in."

They both wiggled a little, trying to jostle themselves into a comfortable position.

"Is this the biggest closet you could find?" Ezra asked.

"Biggest one near the cockpit," Sabine snipped, "the only other closet like it has your friend in it, and it's barely large enough for him with all the supplies they've got jammed in there."

"Hey, it's okay," Ezra said, "After all, how long does it take to get back to our galaxy in a ship this big?"

"A week," Sabine said.

"Oh," Ezra said, "well, I guess it's like we used to say."

"What?"

He put on a fake, slightly dramatic voice as he repeated a code phrase from one of their first missions together, "It's a long way to Alderaan."

Sabine chuckled nervously.

"Uh, about Alderaan…."

"What?" Ezra asked.

"Nevermind," Sabine shook her head, "You'll find out soon enough."

"Okay."

They again tried to shift into a more comfortable position.

"I know separating a Mandalorian from her armor is almost blasphemy," Ezra said, "but I don't know if I can last a week with your shoulder pauldron jammed into my arm."

"Sorry," Sabine said, leaning forward to give herself enough room to remove the armor from her shoulders.

"No, it's okay," Ezra said, "besides, after spending a decade without you guys, what's a little invasion of personal space between friends?"

"Right?" Sabine laughed, "I guess I'd rather be crammed in a closet with you than be separated by galaxies again."

"I know what you mean," Ezra said.

She looked back at him over her shoulder and saw a smile on her face, one she wasn't as annoyed by as she used to be.

— — —

"This reminds me of a game we used to play on Lothal," Ezra said, a few hours into their voyage.

"You'd cram into tight spaces for fun on Lothal?" Sabine asked.

"What? No. Kind of?" Ezra said, "it was called 'Loth Rats.'"

"You're not selling your argument, Bridger," she rolled her eyes.

"Loth rats are known for cramming together into tight spaces," Ezra said, "and when you play Loth Rats, one player is designated The Loth Rat and has to hide somewhere, usually an enclosed space. Everyone else goes looking for them, and when they find them, they become a Loth Rat and have to hide there as well. The game continues until everyone's all hidden together there, squished in like Loth Rats, or they get found by the Loth Cat."

"Sounds boring," Sabine said.

"Well, we can't all throw knives at a dejarik board and call it a 'game,' now can we, Mandalorian?" Ezra elbowed her.

"Why not?" Sabine smiled, "it'd be way more entertaining."

— — —

Sabine stretched out a little that evening while Ezra was in the 'fresher. They tried to keep their leaving the closet to a minimum, and were fortunate enough that the closet Sabine had found was the one rations were stored in, so they didn't need to leave to find food. However, there were some things you just couldn't take care of in a closet, especially with someone else crammed next to you.

She sighed a little as the closet door opened again, letting the cold air of the hallway draft into the already a little too chilly closet.

"Come back to invade my personal space?" Sabine quipped.

"It's either that or I find someplace else to bunk for the night," Ezra shrugged, "and then squeal on us both when I get found out."

"Well, when you put it like that…." Sabine slid against the wall again with an exaggerated sigh.

Ezra sat back down next to her, and they both shifted around a little, until they found slightly-comfortable positions to rest in, some combination of slouching and sitting and just accepting the fact that they'd be incredibly sore when they woke up.

"Good night, 'Bine." Ezra said.

"Good night, Ezra," Sabine said, wondering how much sleep either of them could conceivably get in these conditions.

"It's worth it to bring Ezra home," Sabine thought, "besides, I don't really mind the closeness as much as I thought I would."

— — —

Sabine woke up (if you could even call it "waking up" after less than five minutes of restless sleep in the last four hours of trying to fall asleep) to find her head had drifted onto Ezra's shoulder. She quietly remedied that, not prepared for the sarcastic commentary he'd make if he'd noticed her nearness to him.

"Sabine?"

"Oh no," Sabine thought, "here it comes."

"Yeah?"

"Are you awake?"

"No," Sabine rolled her eyes, "I'm in such a deep sleep in this cramped, freezing closet that I've started sleeptalking in fully coherent sentences."

She thought she heard him laugh a little.

"Hey, Sabine?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"What if I put my arm around you?"

Sabine didn't answer, and he filled the silence.

"I mean," he fumbled through his words, "not that I want to put my arm around you or anything… and not that I don't either, no, but, uh, it'd be a little warmer if maybe we were closer, and we can best take advantage of the space we're in if maybe instead of sitting shoulder to shoulder, I had my arm around you, you know, as long as that's cool with you, obviously, and then you could, uh, if you wanted, you," Ezra sighed, "you know you can stop me anytime, right?"

"I know," Sabine smiled, enjoying Ezra's familiar verbal stumble, "and yeah, it would be a bit more comfortable if you put your arm around me."

"Really?" Ezra asked, his eyes somehow even shining in the dark closet, "great."

He stretched his arm out behind her, in the space between her lower back and the wall, his hand coming to rest on her side as his arm tightened around her. She already started to feel warmer.

Her head ended up somewhere between his chest and his shoulder, and it felt the most natural thing in the world for her arm to slip around his back too.

"How's that?" Sabine asked.

His response came out with two second's delay.

"Perfect," he said, like the breath had been knocked right out of him, "and, uh, are you comfortable?"

"It'll do," Sabine said, not wanting to scare him or herself by admitting how much she enjoyed this necessary snuggle, how much of a refuge he'd become to her. Something about Ezra's presence just felt so calm, so peaceful, like when she was in his arms, nothing else mattered.

"Suun ca'nara," Sabine thought. That's what her people called this feeling, and there was no word in basic that could've explained it— and if there was, she'd never needed to look for it until now anyways. Nothing in her life made sense anymore, but when she was with Ezra, it was suun ca'nara: all that chaos was put to rest.

— — —

Sabine still woke up sore, but she also woke up comfortable. They were still wrapped in each other's arms like they'd been when they fell asleep, but somehow in the night, her other hand had found its way to his chest. His other arm had also closed itself around her, and despite the soreness in her legs, she could still feel how they tangled into his.

And she'd never felt better in her life.

She was too groggy to come up with an excuse for this.

No, of course she didn't have feelings for Ezra.

No, of course, he was just a good friend, just a brother.

No, she wouldn't be comfortable if she did this with anyone else, even other people she would've considered her brothers, like Tristan or Zeb.

No, she couldn't quite say it was just for comfort and warmth.

No, she'd never felt more at peace in all her life.

No, she didn't want him to wake up and move away from her and ruin this moment.

No, she didn't want him to know she was awake now, but still making the choice not to pull away from him.

No, of course she didn't have feelings for Ezra.

She could feel how his chest heaved under her hand, with a steady and relaxed rhythm behind every breath he took. He was just as at peace with her as she was with him.

She tilted her head ever so slightly, just enough to see his face. She had to, had to make sure this was real. How many nights had she dreamed of his return, only to wake up and find him still hopelessly lost?

But no, here he was this time, really here. She wasn't dreaming. His slight snoring, the lack of feeling in her arm underneath him, even whatever that strange smell was that hung over him now— all of it was just a reminder that this time it was real. He was real.

What more could she ask for than a moment like this?

She watched as he blinked back into consciousness. At first, he seemed a bit startled by their accidental intimacy, but as soon as his eyes met hers, he relaxed again.

"Good morning, sleepyhead," Sabine smiled.

Ezra shook his head and whispered, his voice deeper in the morning than it had been at night, "I really hope this isn't another dream."

It was a comment so simple and so pure, and somehow so personal and so passionate, and so humorous in its candidacy. It was so Ezra, and something about him right now made her heart flip-flop around behind her chestplate.

"Me too," she sighed.

"If this is a dream though," he whispered, and she almost thought she felt his thumb stroke her side, "it's the best one yet."

"Dreams aren't usually this cold," Sabine said, and as she did, his embrace tightened a little, "this is real. I'm here, and so are you."

"And that's never going to change," Ezra said.

"Yeah," Sabine chuckled, "at the very least, not for the rest of our week hiding in this closet."

She saw him shake his head, slightly, as if he wanted to say more, but stopped himself.

— — —

Each night came with a minor adjustment to their sleeping arrangement. Armor, belts, and shoes were moved onto the shelf to make their space more comfortable. They rested against a different wall so they could stretch their legs better. They shared Ezra's outer robe to keep warm. Toward the end of the week, they'd figured out the troops' rotations for routine ship inspection, and Ezra insisted on running the risk of using the sonic in the fresher, a decision that Sabine definitely didn't disagree with.

Along the way, they also found ways to pass the time. Sabine caught him up on absolutely everything he missed out on. Ezra told her some legends he'd heard from the Noti. They played a couple word games and stumped each other with riddles.

And they found themselves in each other's arms a lot.

— — —

Sabine's fingers tapped mindlessly against Ezra's stomach as she lay in his arms that final night in the closet with him. His head rested on her other arm, and she was fighting the urge to twirl her fingers aimlessly through his hair as well. One of his arms was wrapped around her, with a hand on her shoulder to keep the robe wrapped around them both in place, and the other hand resting close to hers, so close their hands almost touched as her fingers tapped.

As tired as she might've been, she knew that as soon as she fell asleep, she'd wake up again, and then they'd be back to responsibilities and preventing another galactic war and not falling asleep in each other's embrace— so she tried her best to stay awake and keep this moment from ending.

"Bet you're excited to get home," she asked Ezra.

"What?" Ezra joked, "you think I'd rather be back with friends and family I haven't seen in a decade, and real food, an/d a bed long enough to stretch my legs in, than be on the cold, hard floor of a closet on a soon-to-be-stolen Imperial transport?"

"Well, it'll be nice to get some fresh air," Sabine said, "and maybe an actual pillow."

"What?" Ezra asked, "am I not good enough for you?"

Sabine lifted her head off his chest.

"The pillows back home certainly snore a lot less."

"Oh, you're one to talk," Ezra said, "I could hear you snoring from down the hall sometimes back when we were on The Ghost."

"I had a cold that week," Sabine argued.

"Right."

"And at least I didn't sneak a Loth Cat onboard."

"It was one time!"

"Twice," Sabine said, resting her head again on her sub-par pillow, "I remember the look on Hera's face when she found out each time."

She felt him laugh beneath her.

"We sure have come a long way since then," Ezra said.

"You can say that again," Sabine said.

The old adage that absence makes the heart grow fonder certainly hadn't been wrong, and a decade is a long time to grow fond of someone again.

And after so much time apart, they'd definitely earned all this forced quality time together.

She adjusted her position in his arms a little, trying to get a little closer to him despite the impossibility of doing so with how close they already were.

Almost as though in response to her unspoken desire, he pulled his arm tighter around her, that hand now resting on her stomach, and his other hand taking hers.

"I am excited to go back home," Ezra whispered, "but I think I might actually miss this a little."

Sabine smiled. "I guess there's worse people to be stuck in a closet with for a week."

Ezra squeezed her hand. "Yeah, I guess so."

Sabine yawned and Ezra did too.

"Better try to get some rest," Ezra said, "we've got a busy day tomorrow."

"I'll do my best," Sabine said, "hard to get rest when your pillow keeps snoring though."

Ezra gave her half a laugh and turned a little closer toward her.

"Goodnight, 'Bine," Ezra whispered.

Sabine smiled into those soft blue eyes she'd crossed galaxies to rescue, the ones that somehow made everything all make sense again.

"Goodnight," she whispered, "Ner Suun Ca'nara."

"What does that mean?" he asked.

Sabine laughed a little, and shook her head. "I'll tell you later."

"Alright, then," Ezra smiled, "Goodnight."

And she almost thought she felt him lean forward and kiss the top of her head before they both fell into a blissful sleep.

#sabezraweek2023 #sabezra #sabine wren #ezra bridger #ezrabine #ahsoka series #star wars rebels #ahsoka spoilers #kazzy writes #fanfic #kazzy writes fanfic #sabezra fanfic #otp: im counting on you #how we rewrote the stars

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allisonirish · 1 year ago

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Just William

Chapter 2

Warnings: Angst, Mentions of Child Murder, Grief, Incarcerated Parent

Word Count: 1,444

Disclaimer: This story does not follow Scott Cawthon's FNAF games or books. However many of the characters and events are the same or have been adapted. These characters do not belong to me, but the rearrangement of events and character adaptations are my own works.

I hid in my room for the next couple of hours, hoping to stay unnoticed by my family...and William. Sitting on my fuzzy purple beanbag at my wooden desk, I tried to bury myself in a piece of artwork I was finishing. Drawing and painting had become my way of "coping" and it turns out, I'm not too bad at it. I'd even started doing commissions, starting with illustrating children's books and more recently doing posters and murals for businesses.

Despite my numerous complaints, when I turned sixteen, mom told me it was time to get a job. So I interviewed and started my brand new job waitressing at Applebee's. I lasted two months before my manager got sick of my "hopeless negativism". Whatever that means. I didn't really care though, I hated being around all those people who despise me and I told mom so. If I'm being honest, I was too hard on mom last year. She deserves better than me. Tired of fighting with me, frustrated at Michael's poor grades at the time, and exhausted from working three jobs, she gave up. Told me to stay home and be lazy if that's what I wanted. I felt good about winning that battle for about twenty-four hours, that's when the guilt really set in. After apologizing to my mother and with the help of a friend, I began to submit my artwork to publishing companies and after just two weeks, got hired to illustrate a children's book called Bigfoot Loves Pizza. Goofy, I know, but it was a moneymaker and it made mom happy. I was also offered a job as part time waitress and full time graphic designer at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza 2.0. This was shocking to my entire family since the restaurant was owned by...Charlie's dad. And Charlie's dad shouldn't want anything to do with me.

My sweet solitude, sadly, didn't last long enough. A soft knock echoed from my door and I saw Michael slowly peek around it.

"Hi, Lizzie," He walked into my room, dragging his feet. "Mom says it's time for supper."

I inwardly groaned. Mom had been planning 'our first family dinner in nine years' all week. She even dragged me into mashing the potatoes for one of William's old favorites. Cottage Pie. I personally don't like the stuff, less because William likes it and more because I'm not a fan of ground meat. It looks too much like cat food for my taste.

"Tell her I'm busy." I went back to my drawing. It was a large, purple robotic rabbit with a red bow tie and electric guitar. Bonnie the bunny was an animatronic that William made for his first restaurant, Fredbear's Family Diner before I was born. Except now he was one of the main mascots for the restaurant I worked for and I was drawing Bonnie with large, red, star-shaped sunglasses, playing the electric guitar, and surfing a gnarly wave on a red and purple surfboard. Behind Bonnie were the emboldened words

Catch the Last Wave of Summer Fun at Freddy's!

"That's cool." Michael stared over my shoulder. "Is Bonnie your favorite?"

"Yeah, I like Bonnie okay." Bonnie had been Charlie's favorite. I focused on some dark shadowing under Bonnie's sunglasses. Suddenly, I heard a crash behind me and nearly jumped out of my seat. Whipping around, I saw Michael trying to pick up my violin case and music stand he had knocked over.

"Okay, buddy," I helped him put everything back into place. "Maybe we should go down to dinner."

Michael grinned and dashed out of my room, sprinting down the stairs in front of me. As I followed him my thoughts stayed with my violin. Music had become my other way of dealing with my emotions. Music was something I could get lost in, let every single drop of hate, anger, and shame pour out into a song before they can stream down my face. Art is more about control. It's the precise bits of emotion that are patiently and deliberately depicted on a page.

My mother sat at her usual spot on the left side of our large, oaken kitchen table, beaming over the steaming casserole dish in the center. At the head of the table, sporting a barely noticeable smile, only detectable by the slight dimples forming in his cheeks, was William. Michael had taken his spot next to mother and I wanted to kick myself when I realized my normal seat was right beside William. I slunk over and sat down, making sure to scoot my chair a good twelve more inches away from him. I pretended not to hear the sigh I got from my mother and ignored the conversation between her and William about how she hoped he would like dinner, and how he was sure he would and oh how delicious it looked. Michael mentioned how I helped make it and I gave myself a headache trying not to roll my eyes.

Throughout the rest of dinner I tried to soothe my headache by drinking several large glasses of iced tea and water, and basically ignored everything that came out of William's mouth. He acted nice...too nice. He asked mom about how the house was holding up, if there was anything he could fix, how Michael liked school, how his summer break was going, and what he'd been up to lately. I had just finished my food and was looking for a chance to escape, when William turned to me.

"How was your school year, Elizabeth?"

My gaze cut sharply to him, startled. His eyes were shifting, flowing in waves of blue softness and aquamarine steel.

I shrugged, "I don't go to school."

"Why doesn't she go to school?" William's face bore a hilarious appalled look.

"Elizabeth is homeschooled," My mother cut in, "and she does mostly college classes online."

"Because I don't want to spend my time around imbeciles." I mumble, earning a glare from my mother.

"We just didn't see it as the best option at the moment." Mom gave me a 'don't you dare say another word look'.

"But Michael goes to school?" William was obviously confused.

My mother was fumbling for words. "Michael does better...socially than Elizabeth. It's just easier for him to...be around so many people."

"You got that right." I mumbled again.

"Elizabeth Annette," My mother's face threatened corporal punishment if I opened my mouth one more time.

I bit the inside of my cheek, lifted my chin in defiance, and dared to speak anyway. "Well it's not like it's my fault I can't go to school. In fact maybe I should go to school like Michael!"

My voice was mockingly cheery and I hoped William caught every hint of sarcasm.

"I'm sure being the daughter of a child murderer will make me immensely popular in school. Who knows maybe I'll even be the homecoming queen and for my speech I can tell the story of how my father stabbed my best friend in her sleep! Wouldn't that be lovely!"

My voice tipped into a British accent when I said lovely and I knew my degradation of William had gone too far. My mother's face was a mixture of shock and rage, her fingers gripped hard onto the table, turning whiter than I thought possible. Michael cowered beside her looking as if he was about to cry, and William...WAS SMILING AT ME?!? His pearly white teeth flashed at me, although the grin did not meet his eyes and I could see the indention where his teeth were pulling at the inside of his cheek.

"Yes, I can see why you wouldn't want to go to school, Elizabeth." He stood slowly, purposefully, but i caught the slight quiver in his hands. "Now if you'll all excuse me I believe I need to go out for a quick fag."

Mother stood and retrieved the cigarettes and lighter I didn't know William had from the kitchen counter. He had never smoked when I was a child.

"Thank you dear. Dinner was lovely..err...delicious." He walked out the front door without another word and through the window I saw a small flame glowing.

I almost sighed in relief until I saw my mother glaring at me.

"Young lady," If looks could kill I'm sure she would've burned a hole through my head. "We need to have a talk."

With a strength I didn't know she had, being several inches shorter and leaner than I, my mother held my wrist with a pressure that I was sure would leave indentations on my very bones, and towed me to her room. I was in trouble now.

#fnaf fanfic #fnaf fanverse #fnaf bonnie #fnaf #fnaf au #william afton #clara afton #michael afton #elizabeth afton #elizabeth afton teen

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thespianbooks · 3 years ago

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A Court of Nightmares and Starlight //Chapter 25//

(Masterlist)

(tags: @thron3ofbooks, @df3ndyr, @courtofjurdan, @art-e-mis, @herondamnn, @the-third-me, @im-still-trying-here, @emikadreams, @paytin77, @mis-lil-red, @sleeping-and-books, @lucieisabooknerd, @amandaraey-sunshine, @easy-p-lemon, @azymondias05, @dagypsygirl, @makeshift-utopia, @fantasyshadowhunters) *bold tags don't work!

Thank you all so much for your patience during ACONAS's hiatus! I hope you all enjoy this update! Chapter 26 will be coming on Monday, May 24th to keep in line with my regular posting schedule!

Sending all you beautiful readers love and healing! ❤️

-Rhysand-

I noticed the change in my mate almost immediately after her period of nesting had lasted a full week. The change was subtle at first; beginning after a long afternoon of Feyre rearranging clothes and ordering my brothers and I to move around the furniture in the nursery no less than ten times that day alone, then choosing to spend the rest of the evening walking the gardens with Elain. It was there, watching from the library window, that I felt the call in my blood—the call that urged me to find a sanctuary for my mate. Months ago, after the birth of his daughter, Kallias had warned me that this instinct would come. As mated fae males, the compulsions we felt in regard to our mates always traced back to the beasts our ancestors were and became especially prominent when they were with child. I had noted as much the minute I scented my offspring present in Feyre's womb, and though I had not been fully aware of her pregnancy until she was, I had instinctually known and formed a new attachment to her—to our son. Like the mating bond, the ties I formed with my unborn child were just as strong and prominent; however silent. I could sense those occasional glimmers that Feyre felt; had even felt that warning tug when they had been in trouble during the attack on Velaris. However, this tug, this preternatural warning, was different—stronger than before.

He was ready. Sebastian was ready to enter the world.

XXX

-Feyre-

"It's time, my love," Rhys purred in my ear as I stared out into the gardens, sitting on the cushioned loveseat on our balcony.

Once I had returned from my earlier walk with Elain, warm and content despite the late autumn chill—thanks to my mates magic warming the grounds, I chose to skip dinner. Somehow finding it more appealing to retreat to the privacy of my bedroom when I realized I had no appetite at all. While that should've alarmed me, my feelings of content remained as I changed into the comfiest clothes I could find; the softest pair of leggings I owned and a long-sleeved oversized tunic that was large enough to fit over my large belly comfortably. It wasn't long after I had found my seat on the balcony that Rhys was at my ear with a warm mug of tea in hand. I took it from him gratefully and relished in the warmth enveloping my face as I smiled at him in return.

"Time for what?" I asked softly, resting a hand on the apex of my belly.

He kneeled in front of me, hands holding either side of my belly as those star-flecked violet eyes looked into mine meaningfully. "For us to retreat to the Cabin," came his equally soft response.

My heart stuttered for a second as I realized what this meant, but instead of feeling the panic I thought I ought to have, I nodded slowly—an all too familiar glimmer pulsing between my mate and I, between that bond that existed between the three of us and loosed a calm exhale.

"Should we tell the others?" I quietly asked.

Rhys shook his head as he again stood, summoning those dark and beautiful Illyrian wings from the shadows. "I already told them, while you were up here getting comfortable," he said with a warm smile. "They expected as much, and they know how...sensitive this is, so they aren't expecting any heartfelt goodbyes."

I nodded, again surprised from the lack of emotion I felt at that sentiment; that I had no real urge to even say goodbye and be showered with well wishes from our family. Suddenly, I registered what was happening; my diffident state had finally arrived. It was such a strange and foreign feeling as the full weight of what was occurring naturally in my body overcame me. While part of me wanted to feel nervous and be comforted by our loved ones, all I could do was look at my mate and felt all the reassurance I needed.

Finishing my tea, I set the mug aside and allowed Rhys to help me to my feet; a small laugh escaping my lips at the effort it took to ease me upright and returned my stare into those violet eyes.

"Let's go," I whispered.

It was all he needed to hear before he lifted me into his arms with heartbreaking ease and took to the skies. I closed my eyes as the wind whipped through my hair, relishing in the cool breeze as I rested my head against Rhys's shoulder; one hand looped around his shoulders and the other caressing my belly. In spite of the awareness of what was to come looming in the back of my mind—the pain I would soon endure, my trepidation was nearly nonexistent.

The healer and our midwife had warned that my withdrawn state could last anywhere from a few hours to a few days before I officially went into labor, but some innate part of me felt that this notion wouldn't drag on for long at all. Sebastian had dropped into his head down position weeks ago and had calmed considerably since my period of nesting began. While his lack of movement had alarmed Rhys and I at first, Madja and the midwife assured that this was also normal. Our youngling, our son, was preparing himself for arrival. His loving glimmer still remained and pulsed through our bond, letting his father and I know that he was there, and that he was just as ready as we were to meet him.

As soon as we touched down to the front steps leading up to the Cabin, I let down my mental shields to Rhys, letting him read my thoughts as he carried me inside. His gentle kiss to my forehead was his only response until we were within the safe walls of the Cabin, the fireplace immediately springing to life as we entered the small living area and he set me on the couch. He came to kneel in front of me as he had earlier, the starlight in his eyes shimmering as they met mine again.

"However long this does last, at least we know we won't be leaving this Cabin until our son is born," Rhys said, a hand coming to stroke my belly gently.

I loosed a long breath as I nodded, my hand joining his. "The next time we go back to the estate...we'll have a baby," I mused as I watched our hands continue to caress the expanse of my stomach.

Our son, our baby Sebastian was just underneath layers of skin and muscle, lying in wait and ready to be born in what could be hours or days. The process would be grueling and long...but that intuitive and serene sense told me that I was prepared, that I could do this.

"You can," Rhysand interjected quietly; my mental shields still left down for him, "and I will be at your side through every second of it."

I gave him a slow smile in return, bringing my hand to touch his face gently. "I have no doubt about that, Rhysand," I said softly.

He kissed my palm before moving from his kneeled position to a seated one beside me, his hand lingering on my belly.

Will you tell me what happens in the Night Court when an heir is born now? I asked through the bond.

Rhys's chuckle sent a warm shudder down the bond as he pressed another kiss to my brow. "You'll find out soon enough, my love," he answered aloud.

Prick.

XXX

-Rhysand-

The labor pains began the next morning.

Only an hour after our arrival at the Cabin the night before, my mate had fallen into a deep slumber while we lingered together in the sitting area. I carried her to bed not long after, keeping a watchful eye on her during the night and sending as many updates as possible to our awaiting family in Velaris. After Mor's persistent "check-in's" every hour, at Cassian's insistence she claimed, I decided to communicate mind-to-mind with Az; who's ever-present composed demeanor was always a comfort no matter the situation, even as I could sense his underlying worry for his High Lady. However, in between the few hours of sleep I allowed myself through the night, I updated and reassured him of Feyre's condition. But, when my mate awoke with a furrowed brow and a pained expression, I sent a direct order for him to send for the midwife and healer.

XXX

-Feyre-

The labor pains came in waves.

When I first awoke from the most tranquil state of sleep I had ever found for the duration of my pregnancy, the muscle contractions in my lower abdomen had felt like the twinges of pain I experienced during my previous cycles—uncomfortable and excruciating, but in the last decade I had learned different techniques in order to cope, such as curling up in a certain position on my side or alternating between heating and cooling blankets laid across my abdomen and back. Like the cramps associated with my cycles, these contractions pulsed and throbbed through my lower body, ripping across my back, stomach, and thighs, but were thankfully manageable with Rhysand's help. The minute a groan escaped my lips, Rhys sprang into action, sitting on his knees beside me and helping me sit upright. He let me squeeze his hand and led me through the controlled breathing exercises the midwife had shown us in preparation for this moment, and for the first few hours they were completely doable.

The tightening would build and build, washing over my body in a flood; my deep and cleansing breaths pushing them back down into nothing...until it all happened again minutes later. From the time the first wave consumed me and dissipated, a minute had barely gone by, and Rhys was still at my ear whispering terms of endearment and encouragement until Madja and our midwife arrived. The duo immediately began setting up our space with the supplies needed for the duration of my labor, and I watched them in a trance. Thanks to the healer and midwife's many lectures leading up to this event, I knew that part of me would be so focused on making it through this arduous process that the rest of the world would melt away. However, there was still a small part of me—perhaps the part tethered to the bond I shared with my mate, that was acutely aware of everything that was happening.

It was all so...primal. As the hours passed, my body continued to endure the waves of contractions and pain that continued to surge, mount, and flood my entire being. I knew what was happening, and despite the pain affecting my innermost being, that innate female shouldered on. Meanwhile, a tiny part of my consciousness watched from a distance at the bridge that connected me to my mate. It was that part of my psyche, the only part unaffected by the unadulterated anguish brought on contraction after contraction, that could hear Rhysand's words; that could register them and find the encouragement I needed in order to push past pain after insurmountable pain.

XXX

-Rhysand-

Feyre's cries and shouts of agony were truly the worst form of torment I had ever withstood in the centuries I had been alive. For every pulse of pain that washed over her body, I wished with every fiber of my being that I could take it away. Despite knowing that I could was easily the hardest part in watching her suffer, but my mate had made me vow months in advance not to.

"Promise me you won't use your daemati abilities to ease my pain," Feyre had said softly.

It had still been fairly early in her pregnancy when she uttered those words; when we had taken a few days to ourselves in this very Cabin and whispered words of comfort and reassured each other that we would be different from our own parents. I had just promised my mate of the outstanding mother she would become for our son, and she assured me the same—dissuading any insecurities either of us had for our ability to be good parents. My forehead was still pressed against hers, eyes imploring as she stared at me meaningfully.

I raised my head, my gaze leveling with those stunning blue-grey eyes as I asked, "Are you sure, Feyre? The pain will be...considerable."

Kallias warned me as much in his letters following Eira's birth. While the experience had passed in a blur, those hours leading up to his daughter's birth had tortured a once vivacious and bright female. If the pains of labor could bring down even Viviane, I knew the same would be true for my mate.

Feyre simply nodded. "If Viviane could do it, if your mother could do it, then so can I," she insisted.

My gaze had softened as I cupped her face gently. "I have no doubt that you can do it Feyre, darling, but if I could make it easier for you-"

"No," she repeated. "Females have been doing it for centuries without any kind of pain relief, and as High Lady of the Night Court, I've more than proven I can handle this as well."

I brushed my thumb along her cheek gently as I nodded in agreement. While every feral instinct in me protested the allowance of my mates suffering, I shoved those intolerant compulsions away. This was Feyre's choice, she was the one carrying my child and would ultimately bring him into the world, so it was her decision on how she wanted to accomplish that task. My job now, as Kallias had outlined to me from his own account, was to support my mate through the ordeal.

"As my High Lady wishes," I purred before pressing another reassuring kiss to her brow.

Her returning smile was bright, those blue-grey eyes shimmering with adoration before either of us noticed the new tattoo forming in the shape of three small stars on both of our right pinky fingers. A small laugh rumbled in my chest as we both watched the stars take shape and solidify on our skin—evidence of our new promise.

"I must say, Feyre darling, if the centuries we have together are filled with more and more oaths between us, I may run out of skin," I teased.

My beautiful, perfect, mate only laughed, the sound resounding through our bond; its melody causing Sebastian's glimmer of delight to thrum between us a moment later.

XXX

-Feyre-

Rhys's was the only voice I could hear over my misery, and during those couple precious moments of respite in between surges of hurt. I was vaguely aware of my own howls of agony as my mate continued to coach me through each breathing exercise; guiding me back to calmer and more controlled breaths whenever they turned into angry or pain-filled sobs. I could hardly keep track of how much time had passed, or anything at all for that matter; my mind too focused on getting me to the end of each earth-shattering contraction. That innate part of me left on the bridge of my bond couldn't tell if the ground beneath me was actually trembling or not, and I was too exhausted to actually ask whenever the conscious part of my being was alert to my present surroundings.

There were slivers of minutes when I was able to hear Madja and the midwife, mostly talking to Rhys and offering advice; one suggestion being to actually get me out of bed and walking around the space of the Cabin. From what I could actually discern of the conversation the older females were having with my mate, they explained that any movement might help things along—staying idle and writhing in pain while lying in bed would apparently only prolong my suffering. So, while I was still aware, Rhys helped me out of bed; one arm wrapped around my back to keep me supported, and his free hand gripping mine. I kept my other on my hip, eyes closed as I shuffled out of the small bedroom with his help.

I could hear Rhys's voice again in my ear, full of nothing but love and support, as I felt the beginnings of the stabbing pain return. "You're doing so well, my love," he said softly.

I yearned for the peace the timbre of his voice once offered me, clung to the shreds of it as the next contraction sent me from my feet onto all fours on the ground beneath me. I could only feel Rhysand's hands on my back, rubbing soothing circles as I howled in pain, my groans staying loud as I followed the patterned breathing as best as I could. Somehow, this position—being on my hands and knees, made the contractions easier to cope with. Remembering the midwife's explanation that labor was such an exacting primal act in itself, that instinctual female in me realized that in order to carry on for the duration of this process I would need to follow whatever natural tendency wanted to take control.

Once the pain finally began to ebb away and my breathing regulated, I felt Rhys's hands try to lift me up. I shook my head immediately.

"No," I rasped. "This feels good," I said as I turned my head to meet his starlit gaze.

He nodded in return, hands resuming the comforting circles he made on my back whilst the magic of the Cabin supplied a plush blanket underneath me—to keep my bare hands and knees from being pressed to the hardwood floors. I realized then that my loose nighttime shift was the only piece of clothing I donned. Sometime between waking and now, Rhys must've used his magic to change me into simpler clothing.

"You won't be needing much else for this process," came the midwife's voice from behind my place on the floor in the middle of the sitting room; probably guessing my thoughts as I looked over my attire.

I raised my weary gaze to her, both her and Madja offering a kind smile in return as they sat on the settee across from me. "We've been performing hourly pelvic exams in order to check your progression in between contractions," the healer explained.

I nodded, vaguely remembering their voices explaining what they were doing and when during the few moments of alertness I had been granted thus far. Another part of me recalling the crucial details the midwife had previously explained to my mate and me. In order to reach the final stage of labor, the pushing stage, the opening of my womb had to reach a certain level of thinning out and my bag of waters hosting the baby would have to burst in order for him to pass through and officially enter the world.

"You're about halfway there," Rhys said, answering my unasked question.

"Of course, when the time comes, you'll feel that preternatural urge to begin pushing, which is a tall-tale sign for the final stage of delivery to occur," the midwife explained.

"How long has it been?" I asked, my voice hoarse from my earlier groans.

"Hours," Madja answered, waving a nonchalant hand. "The timing doesn't matter, so long as you and your youngling continue to tolerate the process well, there isn't anything to worry about."

"Which you are," the midwife added. "Doing well, I mean."

"You're doing brilliantly, Feyre darling," Rhys repeated, pressing a kiss to the side of my temple as he continued working those reposeful circles on my back.

I could only offer a brief smile in return before another gut-wrenching wave overwhelmed me once again.

XXX

-Rhysand-

There seemed to be no end to Feyre's suffering as pain continued to seize her body, the intervals of contractions growing shorter and shorter as the hours continued to pass. Still, in spite of my heart shattering every time the Cabin was filled with her agonizing wails, part of me watched my mate in admiration as she fought her way through the excruciating convulsions and followed whatever insights her body called her to do in order to manage each one. We switched from her position on the floor, to walking around the small space of the Cabin, leaning against walls and different pieces of furniture for support as the contractions persisted; the midwife and healer checking her progression with pelvic exams at every mark of the hour. The day was now transitioning into early evening, and the contractions were starting to last longer—to the point where Feyre could hardly speak, or barely register anything at all as she endured them. During those pain-free intervals, she was able to nod in acknowledgement at whatever few words were spoken to her, engage in brief conversation, or give a simple shake of her head when she wanted to continue moving around the room or into a new relieving position.

The stronger the contractions grew, so did Feyre's reaction to them. She still whimpered in pain, her groans nearly coming out as growls as she battled to keep pace with the breathing exercises I coached her through. But with my focus kept solely on my mate, I hadn't realized I was no longer updating Azriel until I felt a gentle plea from Mor. Feyre had just undergone another contraction when I heard Mor's timid entreatment. Apparently, my mate's roars of pain had been so profound, that they had shook the expanse of mountains across our court. I had been too engrossed with guiding Feyre's breathing to notice, but our family back in Velaris had. They knew it was a sign of things advancing; that the next heir of the Night Court would soon make his entrance. So, I updated them as quickly as possible, promising that my next update would come when Sebastian did, and turned my attention back onto Feyre.

XXX

-Feyre-

Somehow my journey around the Cabin had come full circle, and I ended up on all fours on the cushioned bed in the bedroom. In the time my last contraction ebbed away, and I found Rhysand's violet eyes to offer a bleary-eyed appreciative smile, I felt my body shift. Still panting and recovering the breath I had used during the last contraction, I gripped Rhys's hand, silently asking him to help me upright. He obeyed, and I leaned back against his chest for support as I rested on my knees with a sigh of relief...my eyes widening a second later when I felt a gush of water burst between my legs.

My head snapped in the direction of the mess now spreading on the once clean sheets of the bed before Rhys helped me off and back onto my feet, the magic of the house changing the sheets without a second thought. I stared wide-eyed at my mate, but he only smiled warmly in return before pressing a kiss to my brow.

"M-My...bag of waters broke," I said, still astonished.

He nodded. "Just like the midwife told us it would," he added, rubbing my back in reassuring strokes.

My hands held my stomach, suddenly feeling lighter at the loss of fluid that had built up over the last several months. "T-This is really happening, Rhys," I whispered, knowing this moment of clarity would soon pass as the next contraction started to edge back in.

"You're doing it, Feyre," he said with another kiss to my brow. "It's almost over."

I didn't have enough time to respond before the full weight of the contraction hit in an entirely different way than I had previously felt. Rhys helped me back onto the edge of the bed, and I gripped his hand hard as the pain began to mount and surge through me—a newfound pressure building at the base of my pelvis alongside with it, and my breaths came in fuller and deeper rasps. Madja and the healer, who had remained in another room of the Cabin to allow Rhys and me some privacy, must've heard the change in my breathing because they entered the room seconds later.

The words exchanged between the older females and my mate seemed far away, barely discernible to me as I closed my eyes in concentration. The painful pressure I felt continued to build, and I realized that preternatural urge to push was here. The groan that slipped through my lips must've been indication enough, because I soon found myself in the center of the bed with Rhys holding me upright and the midwife at my feet as she performed her final pelvic exam.

"It's time, my Lady," the midwife said, as I forced my attention on her. "It's time to start pushing."

My heart shuttered at the words, and I turned wide eyes to my mate, who kept an arm wrapped around my back, allowing me to partially rest against him while I squeezed his free hand.

You can do this, Feyre, darling

His warm voice echoed through the bond, reaching my innermost self left on the bridge between us, and I nodded as I felt the surge of pain return. I groaned as the intense pressure grew stronger, the urge to push becoming forceful by the second, and heard the combined voices of Madja and the midwife quickly instructing me on how to position myself on the bed. With my upper body being supported by Rhys, and my legs drawn up and open, I quickly sucked in a deep breath as the females instructed and bore down in my first push.

XXX

-Rhysand-

Feyre pushed and pushed for what felt like hours, but in reality, I knew it had only been one—judging by the path of vanishing sunlight outside the window that finally gave way to night as it always did; dark orange blending into a mix of magenta and indigo before the all-consuming dark sea of stars swallowed them up and lit up the sky. I was all too familiar with that pattern, had watched it countless times in my lifetime, but had never felt it drag on as long as it had tonight. Perhaps Feyre's continued screams of anguish as she pushed were the reason why it felt so prolonged now, but I forced myself not to linger on watching it as I honed in on my mate.

She slumped against my chest, exhausted and spent after offering another hard push, and I dabbed at her brow and neck with a cool, damp cloth. I lost track of how many she had done but kept a brave face as I encouraged her further. She was indeed the strongest female I had ever seen in my centuries of life, and I held onto that reverence in order to battle the guilt that raged within me. It was my offspring she had grown in her belly; mine she now choked back tears for as she drew in another deep breath and pushed again, brows sweaty and furrowed in pure concentration, face red with splotches as she growled in pain with her effort.

It was both the most beautiful I had ever seen her, and the most harrowing.

While my chest ached with remorse for seeing my mate in such a state, it was also filled with so much more love and devotion I had ever felt towards her. I pressed a kiss to the crown of her head, giving her shoulder a gentle squeeze as she pushed, silently letting her know how much I loved her in this moment.

XXX

-Feyre-

"I can see the head my lady," Madja cheered as I pushed.

A snarl of agony ripped from my throat; my eyes still clenched in concentration. "Get it out!" I growled without breaking my effort.

"You're nearly there," came the midwife's response.

I groaned, panting heavily as I slumped against Rhys again. He whispered loving words of support as he dabbed at my face and neck to cool me down, and I knew the all-consuming heat I felt had nothing to do with my powers and everything to do with this struggle. Not even the messy bun I had thrown my hair into seemed to cool me down in between my endeavors, so I was grateful when Rhys had begun using a damp washcloth to provide relief—the only kind afforded to me during this ordeal. It was all starting to become too overwhelming to endure for much longer, and I felt my resolve slipping. My eyes met with Rhys's for a brief moment, and instead of offering him a tired half-smile I had done so far, I broke into sobs.

"I can't do this anymore, Rhys," I cried.

His hand squeezed mine, the starlight in his eyes flickering as the hand on my back tightened gently. "You can," he promised. "Sebastian is almost here, Feyre, just imagine our little Bash here at last,"

I sobbed at the thought, the images of my baby I had been dreaming of for months flashing through my mind before I felt the devastating pain returned. I cried again, loudly claiming I couldn't do it, and was met with a chorus of voices encouraging me—claiming I could, and would. Deciding not to keep fighting it, I rallied my strength together with another gulp of air and bore down with the hardest push I could offer.

My attempt heralded in another round of voices animatedly telling me to continue, and though I couldn't differentiate the female's voices, I heard one of them tell Rhys to watch as our son's head began to emerge. My eyes were squeezed shut with my effort, so I couldn't see the look on his face, but a yelp of pain emerged from my throat a second later as I felt the strain of my baby's head coming through with the force of my pushing. The midwife quickly told me to take several deep breaths instead, and I did as I was told, gasping aloud when I felt a painful burst.

"The head is out, my lady," the midwife said with a meaningful look as I finally opened my eyes.

I gasped for even breaths, nodding before I looked to Rhys; whose violet eyes were silver lined as they met mine. He had shifted to my side for a better view of our son coming forth, his and Madja's hands holding either side of me, balancing me upright.

"He's so beautiful, Feyre," Rhys said tearfully as he lowered his head to rest his forehead against mine, a tear trailing down the side of his cheek.

I sobbed again, bringing a hand to brush that tear away briefly before grasping his free one as my body yielded to another throbbing contraction. "Just one more big push, my lady, and your babe will be in your arms." Madja promised.

"One more, and you're done," Rhys vowed, repeating the healer's words.

Instead of voicing my agreement, I continued my hold on to Rhys's hand while I gripped my knee with the other and sucked in a quick gasp of air before offering what now had to be the strongest and hardest push my body could muster. My eyes squeezed shut as I fixed all of my attention into this push, near-feral growls emerging from my throat at the unbearable pain that tore through me, my cries drowning out the myriad of voices cheering me on.

Soon, however, all the pain vanished the second I heard the tiniest, most magnificent wail I would ever hear in my entire life.

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livlepretre · 3 years ago

Note

Hi! You probably get asked this all the time and I haven't had the the chance to see it. What's your advice about gaining confidence about your writing? I have moments when it just flows; I enjoy it; and what I write feels true to me. But sometimes I go back and I second-guess everything and accuse myself of being pretentious. It's my current cycle. I'm asking because I love your writing and you seem to have a healthy relationship with it.

Ask away, friend :)

Honestly the main thing that's going to give you confidence is probably just time-- I find it much easier to let my former anxieties about my writing roll off my back now at 31 than I did when I was 21. The longer you write, and keep at it, the more you will figure out what you like about your writing, or other people's writing, and the more you will find yourself dismissing things that are supposed to be "good" but which leave you cold, and being attracted to things which are "hokey" or unpopular just because you really really like them. Writing really isn't about "good or bad" so much as "do I like this? does this make me feel things? think interesting things? is it fun?" Who cares what the popular opinions are on the matter?

BUT here are some things that could be proactively useful:

1) Give yourself permission to write however you want! It's only pretentious if you find it pretentious-- and pretension, in my personal experience, tends to arise out of dishonesty on the part of the writer. If you're writing something you find meaningful, and truthful, then it can't be pretentious-- it's anything but. So what if it's lofty stuff? GO FOR IT! We need those sorts of stories! I used to have a lot of fear about writing "purple prose" and also about being melodramatic in my writing-- and then I was reading a novel, really enjoying it, and realized that it does all of the things I had held back on in my writing out of fear and anxiety and that I should just say to hell with it and do the things in my writing that I wanted. Like, be as emotionally devastating and really linger on those things as much as I desired, because that's what I like to write. So, just give yourself permission to be "pretentious," but know that you aren't being pretentious at all because you are writing from a place of truth.

2) Not every writing project needs to have the same "bar" for yourself-- I find it helpful to decide when I start a fic whether I'm going to obsess over every little detail (hello Fairytale Ending) or whether I'm going to intentionally keep it casual, and write and publish messy first drafts that kind of meander and explore random tangents and just be satisfied with the writing being imperfect but fun ((The Stars Were Brightly Shining) is mostly a writing exercise I designed for myself to destress because I just write a short 1300 word or so chapter and then publish, so a lot of the time I can get a chapter out after only an afternoon of writing, vs. in FE where it might take me weeks to publish one 8000 word behemoth of a chapter that is compulsively worked over). So, basically, let some writing be more serious, and some more just for the fun of it. This can really help get things flowing.

3) Don't write if you don't feel like it. Unless you're writing for your work. But if it's a hobby-- keep it a hobby. Write when you want to, and don't let it feel like an obligation, because it's not. It should be for fun, when you have the headspace and the desire.

4) Find a time of day when you write best. This can really help you feel like writing more. For example, I'm best at writing in the mornings-- thoughts are clearer, words flow much more easily, and scenes that totally stump me when I pull open a story in the evenings flow like a miracle if I open the document up right when I wake up. Obviously, most of the time I can't write in the morning-- but a couple of days a week, sometimes more often than that if there's a holiday, I can, so I try to make an effort to if I'm excited about the idea of writing. This time for you might be late at night, when there are fewer distractions from other people, or it might be right after school/work, or on your lunch break, or only on Sunday afternoons when the light is just right. But find that time, and it will really help you to think.

5) If you're going through a funk, try Gentle Writing as a technique. This is for when you want to write-- genuinely-- but you're having a ton of trouble getting the words out. The idea is this: instead of trying to meet a high and ultimately arbitrary word count which can add unneeded stress and anxiety (I have to write 1000 words today or it's not writing!), give yourself permission to write however much you actually want to write and be content with that. That might mean writing a paragraph, a few lines of dialogue, or maybe just one sentence. The idea is any writing is writing. It could even be just adding in a word, or switching a word or a phrase out on something you've already written to something that sounds better. It could be just rereading what you already have, or jotting down some notes on your outline. It's called Gentle Writing because it's gentle on yourself, of course, but also because it's about rearranging your relationship to your writing and doing away with the arbitrary stressors that tells us you're not a real writer! Because of course you are. This is probably the form of writing that I practice the most often, with those spurts of furious inspiration where everything just flows only happening occasionally.

6) Accept and embrace the inherent imperfection of the craft. I prefer writing fic and self-publishing in many ways to submitting work for publication in other forums because that medium embraces the messiness of writing-- it's okay to have typos (I have them, you have them, everyone has them) and it's okay to be totally experimental and have clunky formatting and change your ideas midway through the process-- posting chapter by chapter tends to encourage those sorts of changes, and the "learn as you go" approach and it's easy to see it in fic-- but all of this is also true in published works, it's just that what we see when we read a book is far from the original manuscript-- many revisions past. Fic helps me to remember that all writing has its flaws, its failures, and its inadequacies, but that the whole process is really a big learning process, and hopefully the next fic or even the next chapter of the fic is written a little bit better. It's actually super freeing to realize that writing is always going to be imperfect-- for me, that's what helps me move on from past mistakes and keep swimming forward.

I hope some of this might be helpful. Good luck with your writing!!

#anonymous #on writing

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zosociologist · 4 years ago

Text

“Dating Johnny Thunders would be like...” Headcannon

(a/n: I will either be loved for finally making this, or hated because it took this long; this is also kinda longer than my usual dating headcannons because I was really feeling the first meeting idea; "MWABRIM" you know da vibes😌🍷)

Warnings: Implied smut, but nothing severe.

(a/n: ALSO, I MADE THE FOLLOWING GIF MYSELF BECAUSE APPARENTLY THE CITIZENS OF TUMBLROPOLIS DON'T KNOW WHAT A MATTRESS IS DUE TO THEM SLEEPING ON JOHNNY FOR ALL THESE YEARS)

You and Johnny met each other under funny circumstances

You own a nice little unisex boutique that all the lovers of ✨G L A M✨ and daring fashion are OBSESSED with

Rockers, groupies, and even big artists and musicians alike are in and out of your store daily for eye-catching and jaw dropping pieces

It only made sense to see him come in one evening with a friend of his that didn't look too bad himself

You were ringing up a customer, but not really paying attention to their advances as they were trying their hardest to flirt and fucking FAILING.

You were too busy checking out the dark haired guy staring down a pair of cheetah print platform boots that you'd love nothing more than to see him rock the hell out of😩

Everything was good until you were caught slipping and he saw you eyeing him returning a cute smirk in your direction...

In which you panicked and finally went back to minding the customer who finally gave up with the flirting

By the time you looked back over to the table stand with the platforms, he and his friend were gone, and so were the cheetah print boots (you celebrated in your head over that little detail) they had moved onto looking at blouses

About two customers later, you turned around to place a black sheer glitter and feathered robe that a customer decided they weren't getting in a basket to return to it's aisle, when you hear someone on the other side of the counter clear their throat and greet you-

Slightly startled yet hopeful you turn around a little faster than you would have liked to see the dark haired mystery man and his friend ready to check out-

"I didn't mean to scare you", "No! It's fine I was just putting away some things, you didn't scare me at all. Did you both find what you were looking for?", "Yeah everything turned out fine, this is a nice place you've got here. You don't have to worry, we weren't gonna steal anything, in case that's why you were peaking a little."

You wanted to sink into the floor-

"Oh god no, I didn't think that at all- *immediately thinks of lie to cover up that you were staring because he's hot* -I just saw that you were looking at the cheetah platforms, I'm glad you're getting them. They'll look good on you(:" *you had to take a chance bc you'd never forgive yourself if you didn't*

It payed off and THEN some. He introduced himself as Johnny and his friend's name was David. He told you about their group and invited you to see them the following night

Of fucking course you were gonna go see them, how could you say no?!

The following day you closed the shop early and rounded up some close friends for pregame and then you all headed to the club where "The New York Dolls🍸" would be playing, and to your surprise the person at the door said that you were on "the list" and guided you and your friends to one of those rounded booths close enough and with perfect view of the stage.

When the show started the boys came out and you saw Johnny. With a Gibson Les Paul Special in hand. And wearing the fucking platform boots. The match you lit to light your cigarette almost fell on you while you watched in awe. The whole show was nothing less than an out of body experience that you'd replay in your head for weeks to come.

After the show when the crowd died out, you and your friends stayed back as ordered by the same doorman.

When the Dolls came out from the dressing rooms you all got acquainted and they invited you and your friends to this cool afterparty and you and Johnny were together the entire way to the kickback just vibing off of the concert high✨

The afterparty was a blessing in disguise because in the house where it took place there where so many spots where you two could be away from the crowd and just talk and actually get to know each other

So there you both were, lounging in a poolside conversation pit just watching the stars and getting wrapped up in deep and meaningful conversation (all elevated by some trees you scored from one of your friends to smoke😌)

Okay so maaaybe you both got really into the moment. AND MAAAYBE you ended up having fucking COSMIC high sex when you both ditched the party and headed back to your place. BUT WHAT MATTERED MOST is that you really love this guy and he loves everything about you😩

He admires you and loves your bold persona and lifestyle and you love his drive and will to just exist and perform unapologetically

Johnny is a man that loves to give affirmations, he absolutely loves to praise you and give compliments whenever he can. He was over at your apartment once helping you rearrange your living room, and you were hanging up a painting that you got recently and hung it up crooked on accident....this man said that the crookedness adds 💫character💫 to the room....😗.......chile.......anyways........

You love the fact that he is actually a hopeless romantic so you don't feel cheesy when asking him out on a stroll in the park or to go stargazing, most of the time he beats you to it actually!

You are convinced Johnny is obsesssssed with your apartment. He always jumps at the opportunity of you inviting him over because you make it such a safe space. He writes a lot of his music over in this one corner of your bedroom where you managed to fit a green velvet corner sofa, next to this big window that overlooks other apartments and the city skyline.

You also have a collection of memoirs and other books that you hold dear to you and he very much enjoys laying his head in your lap while you read to him and then discuss thoughts and interpretations about each chapter. You usually follow up these literature hours by blazing some herbs while you play a few choice records. That's a typical Sunday evening for you guys.

The support you two have for each other is OFF THE CHARTS. You show up and show out for EVERY one of his shows and you'd always tell your friends, and then they'd tell their friends and the chain continues.

Johnny is in your boutique Every Other DAY. Either by himself or with one of the boys and it's worse than before now that you've given him a pass to inventory. He buys the good shit before you can even get them onto the shelves and hangers😖

He also finds it hot that you can flip the sign on the dressing room doors to occupied (he likes to see how quiet you can stay when he-....you know😉)

Did I already say that he loves everything about you? BECAUSE HE DOES. You're like a- in his words, "fucking ANGEL that was sent down as a pardon in this cruel world💞"

He absolutely adores your skin and loves to watch you take care of it, and he loves when you wash and take care of your hair as well and even asks to help you out sometimes. His favorite thing ever is helping you put curlers in and massaging your scalp with oil or grease, it feels like you're getting a spa treatment to him and honestly, it kinda makes him feel like he doesn't do anywhere NEAR enough to keep his hair healthy like he should.

He loves your smile and how you laugh at some of the shittiest jokes and even things that people wouldn't understand. Your occasional jists of sarcasm always get him too.

He also likes to hold you. There will sometimes be random points in the day where he won't say a word, just walk up behind you and rest his head on your back. You never question it, you find it wholesome and endearing. And sometimes you do the same thing. He could be in the middle of practicing on his guitar and you'll just lay your head on his shoulder and he'll put everything aside just to give you his attention because he feels you deserve that much, and then some.

You both have a passion for many interests and a passion for each other and that's why you work so well together

Call it cliche if you WANT but you were literally MADE for one another💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

#STOP I THINK THIS IS MY BEST ONE YET #oh I'm never gonna stop doing these😌#the new york dolls #glam rock #proto punk #70s glam rock #johnny thunders #John Anthony Genzale #headcannon #classic rock #classic rock fanfic #my writing #johnny thunders & the heartbreakers #x black!reader

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dokidokivisual · 4 years ago

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Gochiusa BLOOM episode 9 impressions

Previously: 8 - 7 - 6 - 5 - 4 - 3 - 2 - 1

That’s right, the long-awaited review of episode 9 is finally here! I haven’t managed to finish it last week and kind of lost motivation since almost nobody reads these anyway, but there we go. Not sure what I’m going to do with the remaining episodes at this point, maybe I’ll combine 10 and 11 together?

The episode starts with a flashback from Chiya and Sharo’s childhood which shows the origin of Anko’s crown. The scene is “shot” in widescreen aspect ratio, a technique that I don’t remember being used before in Gochiusa anime, such as during the previous Chiya/Sharo flashback in Season 2 Episode 9.

I’d like to bring the attention to the opening shot of flowers, which are periwinkles (Vinca major). As you might know, Japanese media often uses the flower language, or hanakotoba which assigns specific meanings to various flowers. The meanings of greater periwinkle are “pleasant memories” and “childhood friends”, which seems to apply rather well here. In fact, if you see a shot of flowers in an anime, there’s a very high chance they have a relevant meaning in hanakotoba.

Of course I couldn’t help but look up chamomile as well, and its meaning seems to be “patience in the face of adversity”...

It seems that Chiya has now lost the crown, but it’s honestly surprising how it stayed on Anko all this time considering he has been carried away by crows and dropped from the sky more than once. Also, I feel like revealing the crown is lost so early in the episode deprives the viewers from being able to spot it on their own, just by seeing crownless Anko in various scenes (as has been done in the manga chapter).

In Chiya’s class there’s an election for picking the candidate from the class for the student council president position. The only two people competing are Chiya and the class president (who doesn’t have a name and referred to only as Iincho). In a surprising turn of events, Chiya gets 16 votes versus 14 votes for the prez (refer to the tally mark chart in episode 3 review), which means there are at least 30 people in the class.

Imagine losing a popularity poll to Chiya. The prez is a tragic character...

Cocoa volunteers to be Chiya’s “producer”, but Chiya calls her “First Lady” which totally means she wants to marry her. By the way, it was Cocoa who nominated Chiya for the election, which I don’t think is mentioned in the anime. In general, this particular chapter has been rearranged rather heavily for the adaptation with things happening in a completely different order, so it’s quite interesting to compare the two versions.

For example, when we see Chiya coming up with the names of various student committees, it seems like a completely natural and Chiya thing to do. It’s hard to believe that in the manga, it is Sharo who comes up with the idea of renaming all the committees. In fact this particular Chiya/Sharo tête-à-tête is not in the manga at all. However it’s an important scene to establish Sharo’s feelings towards Chiya’s presidential ambitions and she doesn’t seem too happy about them, in fact she doesn’t even congratulate Chiya.

Next we have another anime-original scene where Chiya goes to accessories store (from episode 6) to find a replacement for Anko’s crown. It should be pointed out that the design of the crown itself is not completely arbitrary. It features a moon crescent, which symbolizes night (the last character 夜 of Chiya’s name) but is also associated with Arabic world. The closest thing to Anko’s crown I could find is this heraldic crown of the King of Egypt. Anyway, this is also a reference to Chiya’s name, namely it being derived from Japanese name for 1001/Arabian Nights 千夜一夜物語 (Sen’ya Ichiya Monogatari).

Meanwhile Rize is trying to change image to be more like a college student, notices Chiya and asks to make her an adult (phrasing?). As a result, we get an appearance from Rize’s alter-ego Rose for the first time since season 1 episode 9.

The interesting thing about Rose is that despite being featured in only a small number of chapters, she gets a mention in Rize’s character blurb in Manga Time Kirara MAX until this day. It literally takes like a third of her character description!

Anyway, this scene is just a prelude for the adaptation of chapter 2 of volume 7 which is named after a Rize character song 鏡合わせのアンビバレット. In the song, Rize tries on outfits in front of a mirror and tries to convince herself that it’s still her. The illustration for this chapter also shows Rose as a mirror image of Rize.

We see Sharo looking through a bookstore window, which I think also appears in the following episode, and this is a foreshadowing that she works here too. The bookstore is named “Dreamy Books” which is seen later in the scene.

Chiya and “Rose” appear and at first Sharo doesn’t recognize Rize, and only does after Rize points a finger gun at her. Well, it’s not like there is anyone else in this town having purple hair or anything.

By the way you might notice that compared to the last episode the characters are dressed much more warmly, which reflects the fact that it’s already December. Looking back at the scene in episode 8 where Rize and Chimame cross the bridge at night, it’s quite shocking how lightly they’ve been dressed there.

Chino and Cocoa come by, and recognize Rize as Rose. It’s lampshaded that the last time they’ve seen Rose was more than a year ago, so it’s quite impressive that they still remember her, as well as her promise to visit Rabbit House (in s1e9 she only visits Ama Usa An). Rize thinks it’s a good chance to “infiltrate” Rabbit House to see what the others think of her when she’s gone.

Rize’s infiltration goes relatively smoothly until Maya and Megu barge in and immediately recognize her. Chiya manages to get them to play along in time, however Megu makes up a ridiculous backstory painting Rose as a ballet kempo practitioner who fights an evil organization.

Aoyama Blue Mountain also backs up Rose’s existence, by mentioning that she is in her literature club and also does food reviews. She gives Rize a cheat sheet which seems to parody the tendency of food reviews to describe food as “melting in your mouth�� (for example wagyu beef).

Later Rize ends up having a conversation with Chino where she reveals that Rize’s been taking more days off than usual and it gets lonely without her. She has also started lazing about in the sun, just like Cocoa does, which wouldn’t have happened if Rize has been around upholding the discipline. In the anime Rize doesn’t really react to this, but in the manga she seems a bit disappointed in Chino.

This scene is a callback to the very first episode of the show, where Rize pretends she can’t easily carry these bags of coffee beans, because they’re too heavy for a “normal girl” according to Cocoa. Soon after, Rize’s cover is blown after she reacts to an intruder who is just Takahiro.

It turns out that Cocoa has already recognized it’s Rize. One thing that Cocoa and Rize have in common is that they change hairstyles a lot compared to the other characters, so it makes sense that Cocoa would not be fooled by a simple hairstyle change... or would she? Shortly after Cocoa has a realization that Rose has always been Rize, which makes her feel really stupid... until she finds that Chino is still completely in the dark about everything. Maybe Chino has propagnosia, or inability to recognize faces? Anyway, Rize is quite supportive about it and asks Chino if she’s ok if she does image change in the future.

But there’s still one more twist in this chapter, since Cocoa’s sister Mocha makes an appearance! Considering she appears in the opening, this season hasn’t really done anything with her yet. But it turns out it’s just Cocoa in a wig (why does she even have a Mocha wig???), nevertheless she successfully fools Rize and Chino for a second. Maybe the last episode of the season will have real Mocha (I’m assuming she won’t be in the Christmas arc).

And we’re back to the student council election storyline. The “sandwich” composition where one story “wraps” another seems to be used a lot this season. In this case the stories have almost zero relation to each other so I don’t know why the episode had to be structured like this.

Chiya’s election poster (aside from Cocoa’s scribbles) follows a traditional Japanese election poster design, featuring a closeup photo of a politician, her name and a slogan (which implores you to vote like a shiratama dumpling for some reason). I feel like a poster like this prioritizes the looks of a politician over their policies or whatever, but maybe there’s some sort of election law that these posters have to follow.

Cocoa and Chino also wrote letters of endorsement for Chiya, although Cocoa’s was mostly written by Aoyama and was basically a food review. Chino not only made Chiya almost explode from praise, but also presented a verbal takedown of Cocoa on the fly. Later, Chiya makes a passionate speech trying to emulate Rize, but maybe Chino should’ve written that too.

Next I’d like to point your attention to the name of the dish that Chiya made to celebrate the occasion:

Aki no sora (in the autumn sky) Todoroku oto wa (a thundering sound is) Omedetai (auspicious)

If you count the syllables, you’ll find that it is actually a haiku. and it even includes a kigo (season word, “autumn in this case”). The final line is a pun, as tai indicates the presence of taiyaki (a bean paste filled cake shaped like a bream fish) in the dish.

Another anime-original scene appears to flesh out the episode’s “moral” and show how Ama Usa is where Chiya really shines. A bunch of old ladies (who seem like they starred in a Kirara manga a long time ago) enter the teahouse to celebrate the birth of a 5th grandchild for one of them. Cocoa also helps Chiya, donning the Ama Usa uniform once again.

Chiya sprinkles gold dust on her dish, doing her best “salt bae” expression. Pure gold is inert and as such can be safely eaten. In Japan, gold leaf is even added to tea, which might explain why Chiya has it.

As everyone is about to go home, Chiya’s grandma appears through a rarely-opened sliding window and offers some manju as a treat. In the anime this is how Sharo eventually discovers the lost Chiya’s crown, which her grandma uses as a hairpin (the hairpin functionality explains how this crown doesn’t fall off Anko). Surprisingly she doesn’t appear at all in the manga chapter, and Sharo just randomly finds the crown “outside”.

By the way, the text on the manju box says “congratulations on winning the election”, which might’ve been a bit premature.

Sharo goes to return the crown back to Chiya, and Chiya repeats Cocoa’s reaction from part A, which sounds like breakup song lyrics. This dialogue wasn’t in the manga in either scene and I think it was included to somehow tie the two parts together, and make the inability to notice something obvious that was around you the whole time the unifying concept of the episode.

For Chiya the crown was the symbol of ambition, and her dream to become the director of Ama Usa An and conquer the world. Sharo has a lot of drive to work multiple jobs, but doesn’t seem to have a goal she aspires to. When she finally gets an opportunity to move up the ranks, by becoming a student council president, she declines it. Living side by side with Chiya forever (zutto issho) seems to be the extent of her ambitions. Sharo feels betrayed by Chiya being ready to “leave” her and spend more time with student council than at her own restaurant.

After the ED we see the conclusion of this conflict. Sharo sees the preparations for celebrating the winner of the election, and begrudgingly congratulates Chiya. We see Cocoa, Rize and Chino helping out, but Sharo wasn’t even invited...

But it turns out class prez was the winner, after Chiya has declined the nomination. She probably had all the posters and speeches at the ready just in case, and didn’t have to prepare at all. In the manga, this is also where she returns Sharo’s uniform that she borrowed back in episode 4.

Meanwhile Chiya and Sharo have a talk and agree that it was the best for them to decline their nominations and they should stick with what they have. Not sure if that applies to Sharo though, she wasn’t really shown to be “shining” but more like “barely getting by”. There was also another reason in the manga for Chiya to agree it was the right choice: Chiya’s classmates totally trashed her menu names, which means they probably wouldn’t like her committee names either. Most of the classmates dialogue was cut out in the anime though.

So that was episode 9 and all that’s left for this season is a 2-episode Christmas arc and the season finale. Hope you enjoyed this review and until next time!

#gochiusa #gochuumon wa usagi desu ka?#is the order a rabbit?#review

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wrestlingoneshot · 4 years ago

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Torn Between Two

Starring: Angel Garza, Kenny Omega, Hangman Adam Page

Genre: Romance

Rating: 18+ (NSFW)

Summary: A young journalist trapped in a heavy decision between two. Will he choose or lose out?

Disclaimer: I do not own any characters in this. Just the story. Only a fanfiction.

Chapter 1: The Beginning

Bzzz....Bzzz....Bzzz!

The phone alarm echoed through out the bedroom. The radio also could be heard from the nightstand.

"GOOOOOOD MORNING L.A. It's your favorite radio host broadcasting during this nice seventy-five degrees seven A.M. morning..."

A hand reached over to turn off the small radio. A slight sigh came out the young man's mouth as he slowly opened his eyes with a slight yawn. He grabbed his phone and looked at the time.

7:08

"¿Las siete en punto? Llegó demasiado rápido...(Seven O'eight? It came too fast)" The younger man sat up and rubbed his face to wake him out of his sleep. He took a minute to adjust to the barely risen sunlight shining in his room. Doing a little stretching before climbing out his bed and headed to the bathroom to get his day started. After a morning brisk in the shower, the young man made up his bed and got ready for the day.

Seven thirty hit the clock and the young man grabbed his backpack, skateboard, keys, shades, wallet and headed out the door. Before he could leave, he heard a older voice.

"Oh, good morning Angel"

Angel stopped and turned towards a older woman who was alread watering some plants. Angel gave her a warm smile. "Buenos Dias, Mrs. Miller! Already getting to work I see."

The older woman chuckled. "You know the early, the better."

"I can agree with that." Angel said as he walked out the gate.

"Oh..Angel. If you're not busy later, I may need your help with some rearranging."

Angel nods. "You know I don't mind. Plus, if it's ok, this week will be my last time being late for rent. After I turn in this story, I can get that bonus."

The woman waved her hand to deflect the excuse. "Now you know Angel that I do not have any issues with you. You're a good, hard working kid. You have a good soul. I wouldn't dare destroy something so precious."

Angel smiled. "You're an amazing, Mrs. Miller." Angel stops and looks at his watch. "I gotta go, Mrs. Miller. I'll see you later."

"You be careful, Angel especially on that skateboard. And good luck on your story." Mrs. Miller waved at Angel.

Angel tossed down his skateboard and chuckled. "I'm as graceful as an swan on this board." Angel chuckled as he saw the older woman shook her head sarcastically. He put on his shades and rides his skateboard.

The good thing about being a on field journalist that Angel loved about is that he doesn't have to be cooped up in a building. The world us his office. As long as he had his laptop, anywhere can be his office. Plus, he loved riding his skateboard because not only he only a few blocks from the city, he doesn't have to worry about a car much. He has a car, but what is the fun in that? Angel smiles as he loved greeting people on his way to his favorite cafe to get his breakfast from and his favorite spot meeting up with his friends. It takes him at least ten minutes to reach the cafe if he doesn't stop at a random place. Angel stops at the bottom of some stairs. He steps off his board and picked it up before walking up the stairs. He looks around once ge reached the top and smiled at the group at the usual table he sits. He walks towards the table just to hear a on going conversation.

".....And then, she told me that I needed to gain more weight! Me need to grow weight? Just..just look at these guns!" The man flexed his arms.

The young woman sighed. "I swear Austin. I think you just saying this just to give you an excuse to lift more weights. I refuse to believe a woman telling you to gain more weight."

Austin mouth drops in shock. "You really think I would make this up?!" Austin watched the whole table giving him the Really? look. Austin crossed his arms and glared. "Well fuck you too, guys."

The others laughed as Angel walked up. "Austin telling one of his stories again, Zelina?" Angel sat down at looked at his friends Austin Theory, Andrade Cien Almas, Zelina Vega, Aleister Black and his cousin Humberto Carrillo.

Zelina rolled her eyes and looked at Angel. "Of course. But then, what's new?"

Austin shot dagger looks at Zelina. Humberto passed a coffee cup and a wrapped sandwich towards Angel. "Buenos días, primo. El desayuno esta servido. (Good Morning, cousin. Breakfast is served)"

Angel took his breakfast and nods towards Humberto. "Muchas gracias, primo. (Thank you so much, cousin)" Angel unwrapped his sandwich and started eating.

"So, today is the big day. When you turn in your story-"

"And get that big well earned bonus that they should've been gave to you" Andrade said to follow up Humberto.

Angel took a sip of his coffee and shrugs. "Well, it's better late then never for them to finally see the hard work I put into those stories. I rather have it this way then throwing a fit and have them pulling my stories to the side." Angel said as he pulled out his laptop and booting it up.

"Well you're doing the smart way, love" Zelina said as she sipped ger coffee. "Destroy them with your best work."

Aleister turned towards his wife and raised an eyebrow. "Destroy them?"

Zelina looked at Aleister. "I've said what I said."

Angel laughed and Austin looked over to Angel's laptop. "What's your story anyways?"

"It's an interview and a story about local athlete who is the only athlete from his family and became a local hero."

"Oh well if you wanted to interview a pure breed athlete, you should had asked to interview me!" Austin said with a proud smile.

The rest if the table looked towards Austin with silence. "The fact that he actually believes his own words, baffles me." Zelina said. "Austin, just because you competed in two bodybuilding competitions doesn't make you a local hero. Tell me what have you done after that? Opened a gym? Wow, you're doing so much for the people." Zelina said with heavy sarcasm.

"Hey without me opening the gym, who else could get people to get fit?" Austin asked.

Zelina facepalms as Humberto and Andrade drunk their coffees awkwardly. Aleister pats Austin's shoulder. "Dude, just never change."

Angel chuckled as Austin's face showed his confusion. Angel typed in a few things and nods. "Done! All I have to do is print and turn it in." Angel downloaded his work on his USB.

Zelina looked at her watch. "Oh...it's time to head out." Zelina stood up. The others also stood up. Zelina smiled at Angel. "Ok sweetie. Wishing you all the luck with your story."

"Oh, I know for sure my cousin is going to bring it home." Humberto said.

"Do we have any doubt about this?" Andrade said. "They won't have any other choice but to love it."

Angel smiled. "Thank you. I need the hype."

"It's not a hype if it's true!" Austin said. "But, if things are different, you can always interview me. I'm free-"

Aleister cuts Austin off by pushing him away. "Give it up, Austin." Aleister turned to Angel. "You got this. Good luck."

Zelina bends down to give Angel a quick hug. "Good luck."

Angel returned the hug and watch his friends leave. He took a huge inhale and did a quick proofread before getting it printed. Good thing there is a library that us close to him. Getting his work printed out, Angel headed to his office building. It wasn't too far from he was, so he decided to take his time. He walked past a newsstand and caught a magazine with one if his work mentioned. Angel took the time to bask in his hard work and enjoyed the moment. He nods and turned to walk right into a solid body.

"OOF!"

Angel gasped as he quickly went to check on the person he bumped into. "Oh god! I'm so sorry about that! I didn't look...my mistake."

"No..it's ok." The man looked at Angel. He took off his shades to get a real good look at Angel. He smiled at the younger man. "It's more than ok."

Angel looked up at the blue eyed blonde man. He was nicely well built and tall. Angel nods softly. "I really didn't mean it."

The man shook his head. "No need to apologize. I'm glad you did bumped into me."

Angel raised his eyebrow and laughed. "Oh? Then well I'm glad to had bumped into you."

The man smiled. "You're in a hurry?"

"Oh uh yeah. Got to get to my work building. Gotta drop something off." Angel smiled

"Well, don't let me hold you up." The man stepped aside.

Angel watched the man step to the side. Angel smiled and started walking. "Thank you. Sorry again."

The man watched Angel walked and said "I hope we bump into each other again soon."

Angel stops and smiled as he turned to the man. "Maybe, maybe not."

"Well if not...my name us Kenny Omega. I really hope I do see you again."

Angel nods. "Nice to meet you Kenny. I'm Angel Garza." Angel turned back around to walk away with a small smile on his face.

Kenny kept watching Angel walk away, until a dawn of realization hits Kenny. He turned to the magazine that Angel was looking at. Kenny saw Angel's name on the cover as the author. Kenny looked up towards where Angel walked and smiled.

Angel reached his designation and dropped off his work and went home.

The next morning.

Angel was at the table with his normal morning crew. Zelina looked towards Angel with a smile. "Well?"

Angel bit his bagel and looked at Zelina and shrugs. He swallowed before answering. "I won't know until this afternoon."

Andrade nods. "I got a good feeling here."

Aleister nods in agreement. "Same here."

The rest of the table agreed. "Same three?" Austin said. Everybody laughed at Austin and didn't hear the door opening. Kenny walked out with his coffee and stops as he sees Angel. He smiled as he walked up to the table.

"We really need to stop meeting up like this."

Angel stopped laughing and looked up to Kenny. He smiled back at him. "I mean, you wanted it like this anyways."

Kenny chuckled. "Yeah. I did."

Kenny and Angel shared a quiet smile together as the others looked on. Zelina eyed both Angel and Kenny with a smirk before clearing her throat. "And who is this we're honored to meet?"

Angel snapped out of his moment and chuckled. "Sorry. Kenny meet my peoples. My good friends Zelina, her husband Aleister, Andrade, Austin and my cousin Humberto. Guys, this is Kenny."

Kenny smiles and nods at the group. "Nice to meet you all."

Everybody waved but Austin who just stared at Kenny. "Damn, you're hot!"

"Uh excuse me?"

Zelina stomps on Austin's foot under the table. She smiled after she heard a satisfying yelp from Austin. "Don't mind him. Too much caffeine in the morning." She said to Kenny.

Kenny nods. "Understandable." He turns to Angel. "So, since I bumped into you again, I was wondering if you're free for lunch if you're nit too busy. My treat of course."

Before Angel could respond. "Of course he's free! And so am--OW!" Austin felt Zelina's boot hit against his shin.

Angel shook his head in embarrassment then looked at Kenny with a smile. "Um..yeah. I'm free."

Kenny smiled. "Great. I'll meet you at Rose's Bistro say around two pm?"

"Perfect."

Kenny slip on his shades and smiled. "See you then, Angel." He waved at everybody else. "Nice to meet you all."

"You too!" The whole table said as they watched Kenny leave.

"See ya." Angel watched Kenny leave.

"And where did this happened?!"

Angel heard as ge turned to his friends. They all talked at once about who was Kenny and how they met. Angel sighed with a smile and got himself ready to explain. Two pm rolled around not as fast as Angel wanted. Not after Kenny left, Zelina and Austin kept asking Angel questions while Humberto kept threatening to hurt Kenny if Kenny harms Angel. Angel had to get away, so he arrived at Rose's Bistro. It was a nice little bistro for people come for lunch. Angel grabbed his skateboard and walked in. He looked around and saw Kenny sitting at a table by the window. Angel walked over with a smile.

"Sorry if I'm late." Angel said as he sat down.

Kenny smiled and shook his head. "Right on time actually. I just got in myself. I had a meeting that took a little extra time."

"And I want to apologize earlier about my friend. He doesn't think before he speaks apparently." Angel said with a hint if embarrassment.

Kenny shook his head. "No worries. I used to have a friend like that. So, I understand. Besides, he's not the one I'm interested in anyways."

Angel blushed and Kenny smiled at Angel's blushing.

Kenny said as he eyed Angel's skateboard. "Sweet skateboard. You go around with that?"

Angel looked at his board. "Uh, yeah I do."

Kenny frowned in confusion. "Don't you have a car?"

"Actually, I do. But, I rather take my skateboard. I don't live too far from the city. So, I rather not waste gas and pollute the air just for a few blocks. Plus, I feel more free while feeling the wind riding." Angel looked at Kenny. "Is that an issue?"

Kenny shook his head. "Nah. I more impressed. I used to skateboard in my teens. I'm more of a biker now."

Angel smiled. "Motor or a cyclist?"

"Both." Kenny smiled.

The waitress brought two glasses of waters and introduced herself. Kenny asked for more time as he looked at Angel.

Angel looked back at Kenny and smiled. "So, you said your meeting took too long?"

Kenny smiled. "Yeah. Pretty much."

"So what do you do anyways?"

Kenny smiled. "I work at a law firm. A lawyer."

"Oh? You don't strike me as one." Angel looked at Kenny's outfit. T-shirt and jeans. He doesn't look like a lawyer.

"Maybe or maybe not I like to be comfortable." Kenny joked.

"Alright. I get that." Angel said. "What law firm you work at?"

"Some law firm called Omega Law Offices"

"Omega Law...wait.." It dawned on Angel. He is sitting with the owner. "You're thee Kenny Omega. The owner!" Angel said as his mouth opened in shock.

Kenny raised his hands in defense. "Oops. I'm busted." Kenny laughed.

"No way! You won that Cody Runnels case. Your reputation is well known around here. Everybody says you're the best to go for a lawsuit."

Kenny chuckled. "They're overrating. I'm just doing my job."

"And very well you do at it." Angel said.

Kenny smiled at the compliment. He cleared his throat. "So, did you get whatever you dropped of yesterday to your job on time?"

Angel nods. "Ah, I did. Thanks for asking."

Kenny grinned. "I bet it was another groundbreaking story."

Angel looked puzzled. "Huh?"

Kenny reached into his bag and pulled out the magazine that Angel was looking at yesterday and sat it on the table. Angel looked at it and laughed.

"So you're saying my reputation is well known. You, your reputation proceeds you. I was captivating by your work. So inspiring and excels."

Angel blushed again. "You're just saying that..."

Kenny smiled softly. "Am I?"

Angel looked at Kenny and got speechless. Kenny smiled again. "So, was that another award winning article?"

"I hope so. If not then..it is what it is."

Kenny sighed. "You should have better hope than that. I'm sure it was another front cover masterpiece."

Angel was about to respond until his phone rings. Angel quickly answered. "Hello?"

"Hey Angel, it's Travis!"

"Hey Travis. What's up?"

"You know what's up. This article."

Angel looked at Kenny who was watching Angel. "Uh yeah. What is it?"

"Angel, once again my man. You. Brought. It! Best read I ever read since your last work. How do you ever do it?"

Angel smiled. "You know. Hard work and dedication. My bread and butter."

"Well, if you keep this up, I maybe trying to find some room in this chief office real soon."

"Yeah, but I enjoy the on field work. More peaceful no offense."

Travis laughs. "None taken. Just letting you know that once again, your story will be front page and I know you'll enjoy your sweet, sweet bonus too!"

Angel laughed. "I just might."

"Anyways, congratulations! I can't wait for your next project!"

"Thanks Travis. See ya!" Angel hung up the phone.

Kenny, who was in suspense, looking at Angel. "Well?"

Angel smiled at Kenny. "You were right. I got it."

Kenny slammed onto the table and clapped. "See! I knew you would land it! Congrats, Angel."

Angel laughed. "Thank you Kenny!"

Kenny raised his water glass. "To Angel. And to his hard work and...a start of a beautiful relationship."

Angel raised his glass and taps Kenny's glass. "Cheers!"

Kenny and Angel sipped sone water and laughed as they enjoyed their lunch.

#angel garza #zelina vega #kenny omega #aleister black #andrade cien almas #kenny x angel #humberto carrillo #austin theory #fanfic #wwe/aew crossover

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quickspinner · 5 years ago

Text

Second Chance - Chapter 3 Making Time

“You’re so gross,” Juleka muttered as she sat down next to Luka at the conference table.

“What?” he chuckled.

“You have a ridiculous smile on your face and you’re humming.”

“So? I’m happy.”

“You have lipstick on your face.”

“Nice try,” Luka snorted. “I didn’t see her this morning. She’s really busy.” He leaned his head on his hand, the ridiculous smile returning as he doodled some music notes on his notebook.

“Oh, is she,” Juleka deadpanned.

“Don’t be like that, Jule, we’ve both made time to see each other. I’ve got no complaints.”

“That’s what you said last time. Don’t think I don’t know you’ve been getting up early to see her. You’re going to wear yourself out, Luka.”

“It’s the only time I have to see her without rearranging my whole schedule.” Luka sighed, throwing his pen down on the conference table. “This is why Rose is my favorite, she’d think it was romantic. What do you want from me, Juleka?”

“I want you to not make an idiot out of yourself and get your heart broken again,” Juleka snapped. “Also to quit cancelling things and rearranging the schedule before you really piss us all off.”

“I’m a big boy, I can take it,” Luka shot back. “Why are you such a pessimist? Everything’s going great. We’re both busy but that’s on me as much as her. We’re making it work. I’ve never asked you guys to move stuff around before and it won’t be for long, just until I can get everything balanced again—”

“Which will never happen if you don’t tell Lucille why you’ve become such a flake.”

“—And there’s no Adrien this time. I will tell Lucille, just...not yet.”

“How sure are you that she’s over him?” Juleka looked at him with genuine concern and he resisted the urge to tell her to mind her own business.

“She broke up with him two years ago before she left on her internship and she’s had boyfriends since then.”

“You’ve had girlfriends since you supposedly moved on too.”

“Yes, but Marinette and I never actually dated, it’s not the same.” Luka sighed through his nose, trying to decide how much was okay to tell her. Not that he really knew the details. “It’s not my place to talk about why they broke up, but I know it was final. She’s gotten closure that I never had.” Luka glanced at the door a little nervously. “Can we drop this before the others get here? Marinette’s never been dishonest with me and I trust her. What happened before, it was just...bad luck and bad timing. Let it go.”

Juleka opened her mouth but closed it again as the door opened and Luka’s assistant Lucille walked in with several nervous looking young men and a young woman who looked positively starstruck. They had every right to be nervous. Luka and Juleka were notoriously picky about what they permitted to carry the Couffaine name, even in the interests of charity, especially after that incident with Juleka’s former classmate. He tried to smile and put them at ease as he normally would, but his heart just wasn’t in it.

Luka felt guilty that he was having a hard time keeping his mind on the presentation. He jumped slightly as his phone buzzed in his pocket. He took it out, intending to turn it off, when he saw Marinette was calling him. He really ought to decline the call and call her back...

“I’m so sorry, excuse me just one minute,” he said, getting up from his chair, equally ignoring Lucille’s surprise and Juleka’s eyeroll. He stepped outside the room and answered the phone. “Hey, Marinette, what’s up?”

“Luka, I’m desperate for some peace and quiet before I lose my mind,” Marinette said, and he could hear the strain in her voice. “Do you know of a closet somewhere I can lock myself in that won’t have other people stampeding through constantly? I’ve tried everywhere I can think of and I just can’t seem to get away from—from people!”

“You can use my place,” he said immediately. “I’ll be out all day anyway. Make yourself at home.”

“But—“

“I’ll text you the address, and I’ll call the security desk and tell them to let you in. I won’t even be home until after seven at the earliest, so it’s no big deal.”

“I—but—Oh, thank you so much, Luka,” she said, and he could hear the tears.

“Marinette, baby, don’t cry,” he said soothingly, “I’m happy to do it. You should have called me before you got so stressed out about it. Don’t feel like you have to be gone before I get home, okay? Take as much time as you need. And maybe take a nap while you’re at it, there’s a guest bedroom down the hall on the right. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” she sniffled. “I’ll be fine. I’m so sorry, I don’t know why I’m falling apart like this.”

“When was the last time you ate?” Luka asked. There was no answer. Luka rolled his eyes. “Have you at least had something to drink recently?”

“I had some coffee a couple of hours ago...” Marinette replied uncertainly.

Luka had to laugh, leaning against the wall and covering his mouth as he glanced at the door to the conference room.

“Hey! Quit laughing at me, Luka!” He could picture her pouting face.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just I’m usually on the other end of this conversation,” he chuckled. “Marinette, go find yourself something to eat, drink some water, and then go to my place and have a nap. Then you can get up and work in peace and quiet, okay? Juleka and Rose live across the hall, we have the whole top floor of the building to ourselves, so if you need anything, knock on their door. Juleka’s here with me but I think Rose is home today.”

“You’re the best, Luka.”

“Anything for you, Marinette. Go take care of yourself so you can do your best work. My schedule’s packed today but I’ll check on you later if I can.” He hung up before she could protest, made a quick call to his building’s security team, and stepped back into the meeting, texting the address as he walked back to his seat. “I’m so sorry about that, what did I miss?”

When he got home that night it was almost eight, and the door opened on a smell that made his stomach growl. Marinette, he thought, and noted the papers strewn all over his living room as he went toward the kitchen. Sure enough, he found Marinette there, taking some kind of casserole out of the oven.

“Wow, something smells amazing,” Luka said, stopping at the entrance.

“Lasagna,” she said, smiling at him as she put the dish on the stove. “It reheats well, so I figured if you didn’t get home until later it would still be good, but your timing is perfect.”

“You’re supposed to be working on your presentation, not cooking for me,” he chided gently, folding his arms.

“I did work, and I got more done in the last few hours than I have in the last week. Now I’m taking a break to make dinner for the man who saved me from a nervous breakdown. Where are your plates?”

“Was it really that bad?” he asked sympathetically, opening the appropriate cabinet and handing Marinette two plates. “You’re eating with me, right? It’d be cruel to make me eat alone.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“It really was that bad,” she sighed as she served. “Alya’s been great to let me stay with her, but she works from the apartment too, and there’s so many phone calls and deliveries and people coming and going, and it’s even worse at the bakery. I’m used to crowded work environments, so I’m not really sure why I’m having such a hard time, but I just can’t concentrate at all. I was so blocked, I couldn’t get anything done on the presentation outline, none of the design sketches were working, and I have to get this all done by next week so that I can send it to the production line at Gabriel. I can’t miss that deadline or the clothes won’t be ready in time for the show, not to mention how totally unprofessional it would look. I really think I would have lost it if I hadn’t called you. What do you want to drink?”

“Just water’s fine. You would have found a solution, you always do, but I’m glad I could help. You’re always welcome here,” Luka said, retrieving silverware and napkins. He gestured to the small table under the kitchen window. “You mind eating in here? I hardly ever use the dining room and I think the table in there is covered in paperwork right now.”

“It is, and this is fine.” Marinette put the plates down on the small table. “I didn’t realize rock stars had so much paperwork.”

“It’s endless,” Luka groaned as he sat down. “Sometimes I wonder what I pay my lawyers for. Some of it’s because Juleka and I wanted to keep some control over what’s being signed off on in our names. It’s worse right now because they save up all this stuff for when we’re not on tour. So right now we’re cutting tracks for the next album, ironing out places and dates for the next tour, dealing with all the crap that came up during the last tour, plus pitches for products and events people want us to endorse. It’s a lot but I just can’t bring myself to hand it all over to my manager. I trust her, but I don’t know, apparently under this laid-back rocker exterior, there’s a real control freak.” He took a bite. “Wow, Marinette, this is great.”

“I’m glad you like it. I guess it probably doesn’t help that your first experience was with Bob Roth,” Marinette said sympathetically.

“Got it in one,” Luka grimaced. “That was definitely a learning experience and I don’t ever want to be in that position again. Anyway, from the looks of my living room, you made it through your block.”

Marinette winced. “Sorry about that, I’ll clean it up before I leave.”

“Why don’t you just leave it?” Luka shrugged. “Use my place as long as you need to, I don’t mind. I really only need the bedroom and the studio - that’s the room through the double doors off the living room. I’ll show you the spare bedroom before you leave, you can set up whatever you need in there and leave it as long as you want. Just try not to wake me up if you get here before noon, I tend to work late and sleep late.” Luka winked at her, but Marinette looked uncertain.

“That’s awfully generous, Luka, are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” Luka bent backwards in his chair and reached one long arm out for the drawer at the end of the counter. He rummaged blindly in it until he felt what he wanted, and then knocked it closed again. He put a keyring on the table between them. “Here, so you can just come and go as you please. There might be press, though,” he warned her. “We’re lucky right now because they’ve all been too obsessed with the XY cheating scandal to pay any attention to me, but that story’s not going to last forever and eventually someone’s going to notice us. They’ll say all sorts of things if you’re coming and going at all hours.”

Marinette shrugged. “Oh well. I am trying to get in your pants, so they won’t be stretching the truth too much.”

Luka choked on his lasagna, and Marinette nearly did too as she snorted and laughed hysterically.

“You are so evil,” he muttered when he could breathe again, face bright red as he drained his entire glass of water.

“One of has to be,” she replied impishly.

“Speaking of evil,” Luka said once he could breathe normally again, “I need to talk to you about Juleka.”

“Juleka?” Marinette echoed with some surprise.

“Yeah. She’s...not super happy that I’m seeing you.”

“Oh,” Marinette said, guilt flooding her face. “I guess that’s to be expected, you two were always pretty protective of each other.”

“Well, she doesn’t get a say in this,” he said, motioning between them. “At the same time…”

“I’ll talk to her,” Marinette nodded. “I should have before now, actually. She’s been my friend for longer than you, after all.”

“I would like it if you two could clear the air,” Luka admitted. “I’d like you to be friends again, But don’t feel like you have to put up with any crap from her either.” He rolled his eyes. “You’ll have to tell me all about her version of the intentions speech, I’m sure it’ll be entertaining.”

Marinette giggled. “I bet.”

Luka smiled. “Thanks for understanding, Marinette.”

They finished dinner and cleaned up together while Luka told Marinette about his day, and then Marinette cleaned off a space on the sofa where they could sit, and showed Luka some of the designs she’d been working on. He put his arm around her waist and she cuddled up to his side.

Marinette put the designs down and leaned into him. They sat quietly for a minute before Marinette spoke again. “Luka?”

“Hmm?”

“Will you play for me? Like you used to. Like we talked about before? Just you and me.”

“I’d love to.”

He got up and went to his music studio. Luka reached for his sleek, custom painted, professional quality instrument, and then paused. Walking past the stand, he rummaged around for a moment and found a battered old case that held worn but well cared for black and white guitar. He took it from the case and ran his hand over it affectionately. A quick test showed that it was still in good condition, though terribly out of tune. It didn’t take him long to get it back in shape. Luka carried the old guitar back out to the living room and sat back down on the couch next to Marinette.

He closed his eyes for a moment, listening, then started to play. Her breath caught and her eyes closed, hand lifting to her heart just as it had all those years ago.

“It’s different,” she observed.

“We’re different,” he answered softly. The song that flowed from her heart to his hands was richer, fuller, and his ear and his fingers were quicker, more experienced, letting him catch and render subtleties that had eluded him before. His eyes closed again and he lost himself in it.

Marinette slid closer to him, slipping partially behind him to drape herself over his back, and rested her chin on his shoulder. He turned his face to nuzzle her cheek, still playing, and she put her arms around his neck delicately, careful not to impede the motion of his arms.

“Beautiful,” she murmured.

“It’s you.”

He felt her smile rather than saw it. “I didn’t actually mean the song. I mean you, the way you play. I love watching you perform, but when you play like this, it’s just...different. I can watch your hands and—I don’t know, I’m not explaining well.”

“No, I know what you mean,” Luka said, keeping his voice low as well, “It’s more intimate this way. I’m not up on a stage. I’m not trying to create a reaction, I’m just playing along with you. I’m focused on you and no one else. God, I missed this, you have no idea how good it feels. I feel like I’m charging a battery I didn’t know was empty.”

“You’ve been lonely,” Marinette said sympathetically.

“I guess I have.” He nuzzled her cheek again. “Thanks for reaching out to me, Marinette. I’m so glad you’re here.”

She turned her face and kissed him, lightly at first but it lit an unexpected fire in him and he kissed her back fiercely, guitar strings twanging inelegantly as his focus abruptly shifted. Marinette laid her hand over his on the frets, stilling the fractured song. Her fingers slid over his knuckles as she moved to push the guitar lightly away. Luka obeyed the unspoken request, laying the guitar aside and turning more fully towards her, burying his fingers in her hair, tracing her jaw with his thumb.

“Luka,” she breathed just as he kissed her, and oh, he could drink his name from her lips forever—

I could drink my name from your lips forever...

He tried, he really did, to ignore the music suddenly swelling in him, to put it away for later, but he couldn’t. With a slight whine in the back of his throat, he broke away from Marinette. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just a minute, I need—“ he turned and caught up a colored pencil she had left on the coffee table and flipped over the nearest drawing, scribbling on the back of the page.

“Luka, what are you doing?” Marinette cried. “I need that.”

“I’ll make a copy, I just need—“ he broke off, too distracted to finish as he counted beats in his head. Dimly he was aware of Marinette’s frustrated huff, and then of her resigned sigh as her warmth and weight settled against his side.

“Do you want me to leave?” she asked.

“No! No, I just, I gotta get this down, it won’t take long I promise.”

Marinette giggled, and kissed his cheek. “Sure it won’t. Look, I’m going to head on back to Alya’s and get some sleep. Just don’t mess up any more of my sketches, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, sorry, um, there’s a notebook in the drawer of the end table there, can you grab it for me?” Luka drummed a rhythm pattern on his knee with his fingers, lips moving silently.

“I’ll definitely be back in the morning,” Marinette said as she slipped the notebook under his hand, “but I’ll remember what you said about waking you up. Give me that please, those are expensive.” She tugged her colored pencil out of his hand and replaced it with the pen that had been in the notebook coil.”

“Sorry,” he tore himself out of the music long enough to look up and meet her kiss. “I’m really sorry about this, Marinette, I’ll—“

“Don’t say you’ll make it up to me,” she said sharply, and he blinked. She sighed and bent to kiss him again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. We’ll talk about it later, but I promise I understand. Thanks for helping me out today. Hopefully I’ll see you before you have to leave in the morning. Good night, Luka.”

“Do you want me to call you a car?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. Don’t get up, I’ll see myself out. Make your music, rock star.”

“Right,” he said, looking back down at the paper, already getting sucked back in. “Text and let me know you got home safe."

“I will. See you tomorrow, Luka.”

“I can’t believe this,” he sighed as the door shut behind her, raking his fingers through his hair. At the same time, he smiled at the paper in front of him. “This better be good,” he muttered, reaching for his guitar.

#quickspins #backlog #second chance #lukanette #i am lukanette trash i admit it #luka couffaine #marinette dupain-cheng #miraculousladybug #miraculous ladybug #mlfics

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heyyyharry · 5 years ago

Text

Chapter 8: Sweet 25

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Be My Only)

…in which Y/N feels alone at Harry’s birthday party.

Warning: angst that took a slightly unexpected turn, jealous passive-aggressive Harry.

Word count: 8k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Chapter 7: Behind The Scenes - Movies and actors aren’t what they appear to be.

Wattpad link

"Look what I've got!"

Harry flopped down on the treehouse floor and proudly showed his little neighbor the silver signet ring on his left hand. Though it just remotely fit his thumb, Y/N thought it made him look so cool, like an adult. Besides, it was the most beautiful ring she'd ever seen, much more beautiful than her parents' wedding bands.

"My dad gave it to me for my birthday," he said smugly, pulled it off his finger and showed her the word STYLES engraved on the inside.

"It's so shiny!"

"Of course it is! It's silver!" The thirteen-year-old chuckled as he put the ring back on.

Y/N paused for a second. "Wait, your dad came back?"

"No." Harry shook his head. "He mailed the ring to my house."

Though he acted like it was no big deal, Y/N knew he was disappointed. She personally wouldn't want the mailman to deliver her birthday present from someone she loved. But of course, she wasn't going to make that comment.

"That's great!" the girl exclaimed to lighten the mood. "It means you have your dad's address now, you can exchange letters with him!"

"Nah, mum won't give me his address. I'm surprised she let me keep the ring." He gave her a shrug, frowning a little.

"Don't be sad," she told him. "At least he loves you and still thinks of you."

"Yeah, I guess," he said, this time the corners of his mouth turned up.

"And tomorrow is your birthday! Let's throw a party here! I'll decorate this treehouse and ask my mum to bake you some cookies—"

Harry cut her off, "actually, my mum's gonna throw me a party."

"Oh..." With that, her face fell. She fidgeted with her pigtails and thought for a second before glancing back up to meet his eyes. "I suppose you've already invited lots of people?"

"Yeah."

That answer made the little girl sad. She'd almost forgotten that Harry was a popular kid who had plenty of friends. Meanwhile, she only had two, him and Celine. That explained why she'd spent her tenth birthday with just the two of them. Harry's birthday, however, would probably be massive and exciting. Too bad she would not be a part of it.

"What's wrong, Bambi?" He gave her a grin and placed his hand on her shoulder. "Hey, it's all right, you're also invited. In fact, your name is first on the list."

"But your friends are all older than me." She pouted. "I won't be able to talk to anyone at your party."

"Well, it's my party. You can talk to me."

Y/N crossed her arms and raised an eyebrow at the boy. "You sure you're gonna talk to me the entire time and ignore the other guests?"

As much as he wanted to, he couldn't promise her that. So he exhaled and plastered a beam on his face. "Okay, how's this? Let's celebrate my birthday today with just you and me. The party tomorrow is for everyone, you can also come if you change your mind. But today, you're my one and only guest."

"Really?" The way Y/N's face lit up made Harry's grin grow twice bigger.

He nodded quickly. "You take care of the food and I'll go buy some decorations. We'll meet back here at three?"

"Deal!" she said happily, gave him a fist bump and ran back to the rope ladder.

Ever since they got together, Harry had spent more time at Y/N's place than his London house. Though she refused to let him help pay the rent (by help, he probably meant him paying it all for her), she loved to think that they were sharing a flat. What could be more special than going home after a long day at the bookstore just to cuddle him, and rant about her day so he could rant about his? They would do boring couple things like cook together, order in, watch lame movies, sometimes his (lame) movies, and have a lot of sex. Life was great.

Tonight, she was reading when he emerged at her bedroom door after finishing washing the dishes. She didn't look at first, but he was just idling there instead of coming bed, leaving her no choice but to give him some attention.

"I'm in the middle of an important scene now, so if you're gonna do a striptease, please do it fast."

"What's the point of doing a striptease if you do it fast?" He chuckled and leaned a shoulder against the doorframe. "Don't mind me, I'm just admiring your beauty from afar."

"Great, keep doing that, my narcissistic ass loves it." She grinned and turned her eyes back on the page.

"They got together yet?" He asked.

"No." She shrugged. "They've only kissed. But I've read too many books like this so I can totally guess what happens next."

"Yeah? Tell me," he said with a lopsided grin. "I'm intrigued."

His weird emphasis on the word cracked her up. Harry successfully caught the pillow she threw at him and then jumped right on top of her, squeezing her with the tightest hug. She let him nuzzle her neck like a kitten and went on, "so...my guess is that he'll do something stupid in the next chapter, she'll get hurt, and he'll realize what an idiot he is, so he'll do something romantic to win her back. But a good story doesn't just stop there."

"Wow, tell me more." He lied on his stomach and rested his chin on his knuckles, like a child listening to bedtime stories.

Y/N cleared her throat, trying to be serious. "Okay so, the antagonist will try to sabotage their relationship. It could be a bitter ex or strict parents that don't support them. But of course, those people all fail, and the couple will soon realize how much they love each other, then and only then will they have their happy ending."

Harry cackled as he sat up and kissed her lips. "What's the point of reading if you can already guess what's gonna happen?"

"What matters is how it happens, silly." She snorted and closed her book. "Now, where's my striptease?"

"Why should I give you a striptease when tomorrow's my birthday?"

"Tomorrow's your birthday?!" She faked a dramatic gasp but did not get the reaction she wanted from him.

"Nice try." He chuckled. "There's no way you forgot my birthday."

"I did though."

"Oh yeah?" Holding her by the hips, he guided her to straddle his lap and pulled down the spaghetti straps of her top, so he could spread his kisses across her chest. She tossed her head back, her lips parted to release the heavenly sensual sound of his name. Just the sight of her going weak for him had got him all riled up. "I was gonna tell you not to get me anything." His voice was dangerously low. "But thank God you don't remember my birthday."

She pulled away, her face contorted. "Wait, why can't I get you a birthday present?"

"Because all I need is right here." He tickled her sides, and she collapsed on his chest, laughing so hard that her eyes watered.

"Stop it, asshole!" she shouted when he stopped the torture. As his hands fell back to her thighs, she held his face between her palms. "But seriously, why? We used to always get each other birthday presents."

"I know you, Bambi. You'd overspend on my birthday because you think you should get me something expensive."

"First of all, I don't think so. Second, I already got you something, and it's not expensive at all."

"Really?" He stroked her hair. "What is it? Show me now?"

"I'll show you tomorrow night."

"Ooooh, did you buy new sexy lingerie for me?" He snuck one hand under her nightgown to squeeze her ass, but she seized his wrist before he made another move.

"Nope, it's better." To his disappointment, she placed his hand on her hip instead. "You'll be so happy you'll burst into tears, baby."

"Aww, I'm already overjoyed," he said, pulling her down, her head was on his chest. He stroked his hand steadily up and down her back, meanwhile rearranging his thoughts and making room for a bit of silence before he spoke again. "You're not throwing me a surprise party, are you?"

Her eyelids shot up when she heard the question. "No," she lied.

"Good." Harry nodded, still staring at the ceiling. "Because I want you to come with me to the party at Jeff's house tomorrow night."

"Your manager's throwing you a birthday party?"

"Kind of."

Shit.

"I told him not to, but he insisted on doing it. He and the cast and crew of the movie I'm working on had been planning it for weeks." He combed his fingers through his hair and blew up his cheeks. "I'm actually nervous. I've been told many important people are on the guest list."

Y/N propped her head up, her nose crinkled. "I bet this is Ruby's idea."

"Why do you hate Ruby so much?" he asked, sounding amused. "I know she wasn't so nice to you when you met her at my place, but that was mainly my fault, love."

His oblivion was really bugging her. She almost blurted out that Ruby had shown up at her place and offered her money to break up with him. But at the same time, she didn't want him to know that. He still had to play Ruby's love interest in this new film. Y/N didn't know much about acting, but she knew actors needed to get along in real life to deliver great chemistry in romantic scenes. The last thing she wanted was to create tension between him and his co-star that would affect his performance.

Immediately, she shrugged off the thought and pursed her lips. "Fine. I'm sorry I'm so bitter that I dislike your ex."

"Hey, I didn't mean that." He held her hips down when she attempted to get off his lap. "I love you, you know I do. I just don't want you to think about my past with her all the time. It means nothing to me now. You, on the other, mean everything. That's why I want you to go to this party with me. I need your support." He could see it in her eyes that she was a bit reluctant, so he continued, "You said you were curious about my life as an actor, right? This could be a fun experience for you. And you might meet an actor or actress that you like there."

A part of Y/N was still unsure, but how could she say no when he was giving her those puppy dog eyes?

"Okay, fine." She gave in. "But I'll wear my clothes and drive there on my own. Do not spend your money on me."

"Deal!" he gleefully said and pressed a kiss to her lips.

Y/N returned to the treehouse at 3 PM, only find her friend sitting in the corner with his head on his arms. Harry heard her footsteps and looked up, his smile was turned upside down. He looked like he was going to cry, and Y/N had never seen Harry cry before, so she didn't know what to do. Swallowing hard, she took quiet steps toward the boy and sat down right by his side. The happy and fun birthday decorations were the opposite of the gloominess cast upon the two kids.

"W-what happened?" she asked.

Harry let out the longest sigh before he spoke, "I lost the ring."

It was only then that she noticed his empty thumb where his father's ring had been. She waited for him to start crying, but he didn't, even though his lips were quivering and his eyes were glossy. Y/N had always thought wanting to cry but not being able to was the worst kind of self-torture. She knew that, because during many fights with her dad, her mother had held back her tears to the point where agony was etched on her face.

"Hey, it's alright." Y/N patted his arm gently. "You might've dropped it somewhere. When was the last time you had it?"

"I don't know." He shrugged, holding his head and thinking for a long moment until he was calm enough to remember. "I guess...it was an hour ago, maybe? I ran to the store to buy some candles."

The girl stood up right away and offered him her tiny hand. "Come on," she said. "Let's go search for your ring!"

Though Y/N hated inconsequent polite conversations and the awful mixture of expensive perfume that gave her a headache, she had to say that this party had exceeded her expectations. Everything here screamed rich. Most of the guests were A-list celebrities. There were people serving canapes, wine, and expensive cocktails. And they were playing her favorite songs (she assumed her boyfriend might have had something to do with this). Harry's manager Jeff had really outdone himself this time.

Before arriving, Y/N had thought only Harry's friends had been invited. But it seemed like Jeff had made sure all the big names in the film industry in London were there tonight. She recognized most of these people and she didn't watch that many movies. Maybe she should have gone out to buy the most expensive dress she could afford, and not shown up in this lame long sleeve bodycon dress that made her look like the cheapest walking being in the room. If Celine had been there, she would've screamed at her to go change. But maybe Celine would've got distracted, freaked out and fainted the second she saw her favorite actor, Cohen Guard drinking champagne with top model Jacelyn Fox. They would've made fun of these rich people together while fangirling about them. It would've been so great.

But Celine wasn't there. And Y/N was all alone.

She knew she shouldn't look down in the dumps at her boyfriend's birthday party, but how she acted and what she thought wouldn't make any difference. Nobody paid attention to her, anyway. She'd come here alone and had only spoken a few words to her boyfriend before Jeff stole him from her. The manager didn't even bother to wonder who she was, or why she'd been invited. She didn't matter to anyone here except for Harry.

So she'd found her place in the corner of the room, watching her boyfriend talking to a director Jeff had introduced him to. He looked nervous and kept glancing back to where she stood, probably to get some emotional support and make sure she was all right. She had to put on a beam whenever he stared, but the second he turned away, she went back to looking miserable. Y/N was completely alienated at this party.

"Y/N!"

Her heart leaped in joy the second she spotted Niall waving at her with a massive grin on his face. My savior, she thought to herself and immediately went in for a hug.

"You came!" Niall said. "Harold was afraid you'd change your mind."

"Nah, I didn't want to let him down," she said and took another sip of champagne.

"Where's Harold?"

"He's over there with Jeff and some directors."

Niall's eyes followed where Y/N's finger was pointing at, and he didn't comment anything else. He probably knew it was a duty for people like Harry to meet new people at parties like these, but at the same time, felt bad because Y/N was abandoned. So he quickly changed the subject by complimenting her dress. She didn't know if that was even half the truth, but it certainly made her feel less self-conscious now.

They spoke for a while until she noticed that Niall had been eye-flirting with a blonde from across the room. It seemed like he wanted to go over there and start a conversation, but didn't want to leave Y/N on her own. As much as she wanted to be selfish and keep him here with her, she ended up telling him to go talk to that girl.

"Are you sure you'll be fine here?" He raised an eyebrow in concern, making her laugh.

"Yeah, I'm sure."

"Like one hundred percent sure or ninety percent?"

"One hundred." She rolled her eyes and pushed his shoulder. "Go! Before she finds someone else."

"Okay." Niall gulped down his drink and put the empty glass back on the table next to him. "But don't worry," he told her, "Harold's coming."

Y/N looked up as Niall left and saw that her boyfriend was indeed making his way here. Harry stopped in front of her and leaned in, but then remembered just in time to kiss her on the cheek and not her lips like he'd intended to.

"Sorry I took too long." He pulled away, keeping his hands behind his back. "Was Niall bothering you?"

She grinned and shook her head. "No, he was actually keeping me entertained with his jokes."

"Are you bored?"

"Not at all."

He gave her a half-smile. "Okay, now you're just being sarcastic."

"You gotta love me for who I am, mister," said Y/N as she playfully poked his chest.

Harry eyed her from head to toes. She could already guess what he was thinking about when he wetted his lip and took a deep breath. "I really want to ruin your lipstick right now," he said in hushed tones. "That dress looks so fucking good on you."

"How about we sneak out of here and you can ruin more than just my lipstick?" She stepped forward, not breaking their eye contact. The look on his face was priceless. He had his mouth and eyes wide open, trying to appear as composed as he could, but she knew his heart was racing.

"We can't, love," he said at last.

Though dismayed, she couldn't blame him for not wanting to risk it. They shouldn't even be talking to each other right now.

"But...but...I can show you around," he added. "Jeff's got a huge house and—Have you checked out the sushi bar? There's a sushi bar."

"Yeah, I ate so much that so many people were staring and I had to leave," she said, chuckling slightly.

Harry hesitated, and yet he couldn't help but stroke her cheek with his thumb before tucking a black strand behind her ear. "I'll make it up to you after this party, I promise."

"I'm looking forward to it." She pressed her lips into a smirk. "So...why don't you show me around?"

"Okay, come—"

"Harry!" Jeff pushed his way through a group of people and clutched Harry's arm as his whole face lit up "Director Garrett Spielmann is here! I sent the invitation to him for fun and he actually came!"

"Oh God, that's great, uhm...but..." Harry paused to look back at his girlfriend. "Can you keep him busy for a moment?"

"Are you insane?!" Jeff cried out. He was too hyped to notice the girl standing behind his client, so he went on, tugging at Harry's arm. "That man directs only Academy Award-winning films and works with only potential Academy Award-winning actors! Please don't let me down!"

"But—"

"No!"

"Jeffrey!" Harry groaned like a little boy but Jeff refused to listen. He dragged his best client by the arm toward the white-haired man standing in the middle of the room. Y/N gave her boyfriend two thumbs up to let him know she was fine, still, he looked extremely guilty.

"I'm sorry and I love you," he mouthed at her. To be honest, that was all she needed to hear at the moment.

Now alone again, Y/N decided to go explore the house on her own. It was actually great to be a nobody because no one there came up to talk to her; they let her wander freely like a ghost among the living. After walking around until her legs were tired, she had found a bathroom. She didn't really need to go, she simply wanted to get away from the party just for a little while. The bathroom sounded like a great idea for that. In fact, it took her back to her prom night, when she'd spent most of the time making out with her boyfriend in a stall instead of dancing. The bathroom could be a great place if you wanted it to be.

Having been to Harry's and Isaac's house many times before, Y/N already had an idea of what rich people's bathrooms looked like. So she wasn't exactly surprised to see the one at Jeff's. It was similar, scrupulously clean with gleaming granite countertops, walnut framed mirrors, and fragrant fluffy towels carefully folded on a chair. Could she just stay here while waiting for Harry? It would surely be better than going back out there.

However, once she'd finished reapplying her makeup, she heard some voices and footsteps down the hall. They got louder as the people came closer, and then sauntered in two twins who looked and dressed like supermodels. It was Ruby who walked right behind them. Y/N guessed they had just arrived because she hadn't seen them until now.

The twins didn't pay much attention to her, though she'd noticed the way they had sized her up when they entered. Ruby, on the other hand, gave her a long hard glare as she walked past. Y/N didn't want to start an unwanted conversation here, so she had to leave quietly.

As she had just walked out of the door, the girls thought she was gone, so they began talking.

"Hey, Rubes, who's that girl?" one of the twins spoke with the most annoying high-pitched voice Y/N had ever heard. As much as she hated to eavesdrop, the conversation was about her, and she had to know how mean they were going to be. So she stood by the bathroom entrance with her back against the wall, listening to everything they had to say.

"I saw her laughing with Harry earlier," the same twin continued. "Do they know each other or something?"

"Is she his new assistant?" the other one joined in.

"Nope," Ruby said with a calm yet mocking tone. Her laugh echoed in the room. "She's here to serve drinks."

This bitch!

"They seemed like close friends to me," twin number one said.

"Oh, please." Ruby scoffed. "Harry is nice to everyone who works for him."

"But have you seen her dress?" Twin number two scoffed as she commented, "I mean, girl, are you at a birthday party or a funeral? I feel so sorry for her if she thinks she can fit in looking like that."

Y/N clenched her fists and bit so hard on her bottom lip that it turned white. If this was secondary school, she would've confronted those ladies like she'd done to the mean girls back then. But now she was an adult, a guest at an exclusive party, her boyfriend's birthday party. She knew better than to cause a scene and draw any attention to herself.

So she took a deep breath, held onto her rage and got out of there. That was when she bumped into Isaac.

"Hey, lady, watch where you're going!" he said with a beam but she was too upset to return one.

"Thank God you're here," she said. "I was about to lose it and bitch slap Ruby in the bathroom. Fuck, that bitch!"

Isaac blanched as soon as he heard. "Wait, what happened? Where's H?"

"Talking to Garrett Spielmann over there."

Isaac turned his head so fast it could've fallen off and he wouldn't have cared. "The Garrett Spielmann?" His blue eyes brightened. "The director of Vendetta Of Retreat, the best movie of all time?!"

"Jesus, calm down, you movie nerd." She gave his shoulder a nudge. "Well, he's busy speaking to Harry, so maybe wait a bit before you rush in to ask for a photograph."

"If I do fangirl too hard, please stop me," Isaac pulled a silly face that made her shriek with laughter.

Ruby and the twins had finally entered the room. All eyes were on them when they ambled in like models on a runway. They didn't pay attention to anyone, so Y/N assumed they probably didn't see her now that she'd blended right into the background, where she should be. She watched the actress kiss the twins goodbye and make her way to Harry. Everything she did pissed Y/N off, even the way she hugged Harry and held him for much longer than she did the others.

"Bitch," Y/N muttered, thinking Isaac didn't hear it. But he did, and he burst out laughing.

"So you've talked to the Declan twins?" he asked, pointing to those girls.

"No, but they sure had a lot to say about me. All awful things."

"Don't mind them. Their father is a millionaire and they think they're the British Kendall and Kylie Jenner."

His comment made her snort. "They are as bratty as those Kardashian girls, so that's actually correct."

The pair shared a good laugh at her comment and then Isaac added, "love your dress by the way."

"Many of the guests here would disagree, but thank you," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Well, I personally love it. But your outfit's still missing something."

"Of course it—What are you doing?" Y/N widened her eyes when the man took a step closer. Not saying a word, he pressed two fingers to the corners of her mouth and pushed them up.

"There ya go," he said with amusement as she pushed his hands away, smiling this time.

"You're a nerd," she said.

"And you, little lady, is a bully."

The kids couldn't find the ring.

They had searched everywhere on the road from their houses to the store and they had asked everyone they knew. Nobody had seen the ring. Or maybe someone had, and they'd kept it for themselves. So Y/N and Harry returned home empty-handed and Y/N blamed herself for everything. As soon as they'd entered their treehouse, the little girl burst into tears.

"Hey, kid, what...what's wrong?" Harry gripped her trembling shoulders and crouched down so their faces were at the same level. "Hey, don't cry. It's not your fault."

"If it hadn't been for m-me...and...and this two-person party, maybe...maybe you would still have your r-ring," she said while sobbing into her small palms.

Harry's brain stuttered for a moment, he always panicked when his Bambi cry. Her tears had power over him, and he was still trying to figure out how to deal with them. Carefully, he held her little face and stroked her head, telling her to calm down.

"It's not your fault, Bambi. I was careless, and the ring was too big for me so it fell out. None of this is your fault. You've been nothing but a good girl."

It was funny how he hadn't thought of that when he lost the ring. He had been too upset about losing it that the reason why didn't matter. Only when he saw Y/N's tears did it occur to him that, if not today then sooner or later he would've lost that ring, anyway. You could never keep something that wasn't meant to be yours.

He took the girl's hands and pulled her down on the floor with him. They were sitting face to face, their fingers intertwined on his lap. Quietly, he watched her sniffle for a moment, and then she stopped crying.

"Maybe..." She freed one hand from his to wipe her wet cheeks. "Maybe your dad will understand if you tell him what you just told me."

His face went blank at once. "I-I don't think...uhm..." he stuttered, biting his lip. "I don't think he needs to know."

"Of course he does!" she cried out. "He gave it to you for your birthday."

"He didn't."

"What?"

Y/N gave him this innocent look that made his heart ache, for he knew he was a terrible person for lying to her. With his head hung low to avoid her big questioning eyes, Harry admitted, "he didn't give the ring to me. I-I found it in my mum's closet. She told me it used to be his and let me keep it."

Slowly, he looked up, expecting her to get angry. After all, he'd made her think it'd been her fault that he'd lost his father's gift. But Y/N only asked, "why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

The girl didn't sound querulous but rather perplexed and concerned. She didn't understand why he felt the need to lie, especially to her. Should she always be an exception?

A line appeared between his brows as he began to fidget with the buttons on his shirt. Embarrassed, he said, "because my dad...has never sent me a birthday present before. Maybe he doesn't even remember I exist, let alone my birthday. But I wished that he did, so I lied about him sending me the ring. I thought that...if you believed the story, I would too, and it'd become the truth."

The boy eventually looked up with sad eyes that made him look like a criminal who'd just pleaded guilty. However, the look his sweet little neighbor was giving him didn't make him feel that way. She didn't say a word and got on her knees to wrap her short arms around his torso. He was frozen for a second, but eventually relaxed to accept the hug, thinking it was one of the best gifts he'd ever received on his birthday.

Harry had been watching his girlfriend and best friend for long enough to feel uncomfortable. He didn't care what Isaac had told him. He knew Isaac's feelings for Y/N couldn't have just vanished overnight. Maybe Isaac still loved her. Maybe he wanted to prove that she was wrong to choose Harry. Maybe he was waiting for an opportunity to win her back. Maybe that opportunity was tonight.

Stop, said the voice inside Harry's head, he was over-analyzing the situation again. Still, it was frustrating to see her so happy with Isaac.

"Harry is made for that role! He's perfect! Aren't you, H?"

"Huh?" The actor blinked rapidly. Only now did he realize everyone was staring, and he felt like a fool for not knowing what it was about.

"Garrett's new movie," Ruby reminded him. "I said you should audition for the role of the space soldier."

"Oh, no, I'm not—"

"He's so humble," she cut him off, giving his shoulder a subtle squeeze to say he should leave this to her. The truth was, he wished he could leave everything to her and go be with his girlfriend right now.

"It's good to be humble sometimes, but don't underestimate yourself," said Garett, who had been greatly entertained by Harry's laid-back attitude and Ruby's energy. He flicked his fingers between the two of them. "You could be perfect for the roles of the lovers."

"Well, I don't know about me, but Harry is the perfect choice." Ruby nudged him, making the few other guests standing there 'aww' at once. But when she was sure nobody paid attention anymore, she leaned in to whisper in his ear, "you're acting like a sheep. Remember what I taught you."

Harry did remember her advice. He knew if he showed these people that he was any less than them, they would start seeing him that way too. However, it'd been hard to put on a great show knowing he'd left Y/N on her own for most of tonight. Now she was alone with Isaac, which didn't really help him feel any better.

When Harry glanced back to where those two had been just a minute ago, they were already gone. His eyes desperately searched for them from left to right, but they were nowhere to be seen in the room. Now he began to feel hot under the collar, almost like he was standing on fire.

"Excuse me."

The word slipped out of his mouth before he could think twice. He ignored Jeff saying his name, shrugged Ruby's hands off him, and muttered a sincere apology to the director he'd probably never get to speak to again. He needed to find his girl.

"And over here we have...the sushi bar!"

Isaac fell about as Y/N presented it to him like she was the owner of the place. "Are you sure this is the first time you've been here?"

She gave him a shrug. "I had nothing to do for the last two hours, so I walked around. But this could be my house in twenty years. Who knows?"

Smiling, she picked up a clean plate to get some sushi rolls for the two of them. He watched her hum in satisfaction as she ate one, and with a mouth full, asked him if he'd like to try.

"No, I—"

"Come on, open your mouth."

He pretended to look annoyed but still opened his mouth so she could feed him the roll using chopsticks.

"Good?" she asked, and he nodded, making her giggle. "See? I told ya. This is the only good thing about this party, to be honest."

"Our surprise party would've been better." His comment made her beam fade away. As she said nothing else, he went on with a sigh, "I'm sorry you had to cancel it at the last minute. Did Harry know?"

"Nah, if he had, he would've asked Jeff to cancel this party." A corner of her mouth quirked up as she lifted her shoulders. "I didn't want him to put himself second on his birthday because of me."

"You think he would've done that?"

"Yeah. I know him," she asserted. "He's not enjoying this party at all. You can just see it in his eyes."

Isaac obviously couldn't. Nobody here could, except for her. Maybe it was her special talent, one she'd always taken pride of. She knew him better than everyone in this house. But unfortunately, they were the ones receiving his attention tonight.

"Well, hello Isaac."

When Y/N heard that scratchy voice, she didn't have to turn around to know it was one of the twins from earlier. She could never get that obnoxious high-pitched tone out of her head. As she turned around, the girl shoved an empty glass into her hands.

"Get me some more champagne," said twin number one, who had a slightly higher voice than her sister.

Y/N pushed the glass back to the girl. With a hostile glare, she said, "I don't work here. You have arms and legs, do it yourself."

The girl raised an eyebrow and puckered up her lips. "Are you sure you don't work here?"

"Hey, that's enough, Emma."

"Oh, you're hanging with the party staff now, Isaac?" twin number two said as she stepped forward to back up her sister. Y/N almost told him to leave it to her to handle these bitches, but he didn't even give her a chance to try.

"She's my girlfriend. Speak to her like that again and I'll tell your father what you really did in Vegas."

The twins had their mouths hanging open but neither could make a sound, and Isaac didn't want to wait for them to speak. He grabbed a startled Y/N and pulled her with him, away from those girls, to an empty balcony and shut the glass doors to muffle the loud music and noisy conversations.

Just as he was about to say something, she interrupted him. "Why did you tell them I was your girlfriend?"

"I didn't...I didn't know what to say. I was angry that they said that to you." He breathed and shoved his fingers in his golden locks. "They both asked me out two years ago, and I turned them down. They're still bitter about it, apparently."

"They both asked you out?"

"Weird, right?" He snorted at the look on her face. "You okay, Smiley?"

"Yeah." She looked up to meet his eyes. "I would've kicked their asses had you not been there."

"Thank God I was there. You're one violent little girl."

"Who you calling a little girl?" She playfully hit his chest only for him to catch her wrists and hold them down. The two of them were dying of laughter when the door opened and Harry appeared.

"Bambi?" His voice stopped them at once.

Isaac let Y/N go, giving Harry a grin, but he didn't get the same attitude in return. The way Harry's eyebrows snapped together and his lips set in a hard line had said it all.

"I'll leave you two alone," said Isaac as he gave his best friend one last glance before leaving.

Once the door fell shut, Harry turned back to his girlfriend. Y/N didn't hold his gaze for more than a second. She turned her head to stare at the trees and fairy lights in Jeff's garden.

"I was looking everywhere for you," he spoke, his voice was low. "Are you mad at me?"

"No."

As she released a shaky breath, Harry expected her to continue. But what came next was silence. Terrifying, grim silence that made his bones ache and his heart sink. He took a step forward to stand by her side and refrained the need to reach for her hand. He knew any move he made was being watched. He was nothing more than a poor book character waiting for the readers to decide whether he was good or bad.

"What were you and Isaac talking about?" He asked, his eyebrows pulled together as he studied her reaction. He didn't have to say it, she knew what he was thinking.

"He was just keeping me company while you were busy with the other guests," she replied with a straight face.

"You know I can't spend all my time with you, Bambi," he said steadily. "People would get suspicious, that's how rumors start."

"I know. That's why I'm not blaming you."

"You were though."

"I wasn't!" She shot him a glare. "I just felt uncomfortable, so I came out here for some fresh air. Why's it a problem for you?!"

"Because you're clearly upset that I'm not spending enough time with you tonight and you won't admit it."

"No." She laughed wryly, shaking her head. "I'm upset because I don't feel welcome here. These snobby rich people look down on me, H. I know it's not your fault, but why are you trying to pin it on me?"

"Are you seriously doing this right now?" He breathed and quickly glanced at the door to make sure no one was looking at them. "You want to get to know me. Well, this is me, Bambi. I'm not just the boy you grew up with, I'm also an actor. And sadly, what those snobby rich people think of me matters. I don't like that, in fact, I hate that. But I still have to go through with it every day. So why can't you just be supportive?"

"If I weren't supportive, I wouldn't have come here, H." She stared at him in disappointment. "It's sad that you think I still need to get to know you. I've known you my whole life, and this isn't you. All you've been doing tonight is trying to please other people. You're not having fun on your birthday and these people are not your friends. They don't even care about you."

"I don't need them to care about me, I need them to accept me. That's the only way for me to mean something here."

"You are something to me," she softened her voice, but he let those words go over his head.

"It's easy for you to say because you're not one of us. Maybe you should've stayed home."

Fear crossed his face as he realized what he'd said. Abruptly, he reached for her hand, muttering a late apology only for her to push him away.

"I didn't mean it like that—"

"No, you were right," she cut him off. "I should've stayed home."

When she stormed off, Harry was paralyzed for a whole second. His mind was blurry until it suddenly hit him what this could mean for them. The last time she'd walked out on him, he'd lost her for a year, and could've lost her forever had it not been for that bloody storm. He couldn't lose her again, especially not on his birthday.

Terrified, he chased after Y/N, but she had blended right into the crowded room and disappeared like a ghost. Before he could make it to the exit, a hand pulled him back by his shoulder.

"Hey, there you are!" Ruby said, her eyebrows rose. "Come on, I—"

"Not now Rubes." He shrugged her off, only to bump into the Declan twins as he attempted to run.

"Hey, Rubes, that girl turns out to be Isaac's girlfriend. Why did you say she was here to serve drinks?! "

Ruby's eyes bulged out when Harry looked back at her, and now he finally realized what had happened when he wasn't there. Y/N had been upset for a reason which he'd been too oblivion and selfish to figure out.

"I can explain," Ruby blurted, but he stopped her before she could start.

"Please don't." He pulled away and then dashed toward the door.

"Wait!" Y/N shouted before Harry blew out the candle on his cupcake. She looked so serious with her eyebrows knitted together and her arms crossed. "Before you make your wish, I have to give you my present first."

"It's not how it works though." He scoffed. "It's always: blow the candle, make a wish, and then open presents."

"This is a special birthday so we don't play by the rules," said the little girl as she reached inside the back pocket of her jeans. "Close your eyes."

Smiling, Harry shut his eyes. He told her she shouldn't have bought him anything, and she replied by saying he talked too much. On the count to three, the girl told him to open his eyes.

"Ta-da!"

"A...ribbon?" The boy looked confused, but at the same time, amused by the birthday surprise she was holding in front of his face.

"Give me your hand." Y/N giggled. She didn't have to explain herself, because when she wrapped the pink ribbon around his thumb and tied both ends together into a nice little bow, he finally got the idea.

"Now you can tell everyone you got a ring on your birthday!" She blushed, chewing on her lip. "This was kind of a...last-minute idea. And you know, I don't have money to buy you a real one—"

"I love it!" He cut her off while admiring the 'ring' on his thumb. "It's beautiful."

Her eyes sparkled with joy as she clapped her hands and promised him, one day she would get him a real silver ring. He told her he couldn't wait until that day and finally blew out the candle.

"Do early birthday wishes come true?" He asked after having made his wish.

With her hands on her knees, she gave him a shrug. "We'll find out. But did you wish for your dad to come back or for you to find the ring?"

"I wish for us to always stay together."

Her reaction to his answer wasn't what he'd expected.

"Harry! Why would you say your wish out loud?!"

"Well, you asked me what it was." The boy chuckled at the horrified look on his little friend's face. "This is a special birthday, remember? It doesn't follow the rules of ordinary birthdays."

Harry's reassurance made Y/N sigh in relief. She pursed her lips, batting her eyelashes at him. "I hope you're right."

He knew he was right. They would always stay together. Because what would he do without his girl?

"Bambi, wait!" Harry burst right through the door and leaped down the steps with two strides to catch up with Y/N. She heard his voice and only walked faster toward her car, clutching the strap of her crossbody bag so tightly that her knuckles turned white.

"Go back inside, you're making a scene!" she shouted at him without slowing down, but Harry didn't give up. He pushed past the people who were trickling out of the house. Their indistinct voices were sizzling in his ears, but he brushed them off and tried to keep up with her pace.

"Baby, I'm sorry!"

"I don't wanna hear it!" She covered her ears like a child, striding ahead. Just as she was about to reach her car, however, he jumped right between her and the door, holding her arms so she wouldn't push him out of the way.

"I didn't mean what I said!"

"And I don't care," she grumbled, turning her head from left to right. Her face reddened as she realized there were people watching them fight in the driveway. Harry, on the other hand, was too delirious to care.

"Please, I'm sorry I said that to you." He held her face dearly so she would look at him instead of those strangers. "That was stupid, really stupid. I should've been there for you instead of him. It won't happen again."

"What are you doing? People are staring at us," she said between gritted teeth, but he wasn't listening.

"I love you, Bambi. I love you so much—"

Y/N covered his mouth with both hands, the color drained out of her face. While she was in shock that he'd screamed out those words, he was snickering into her palm.

"Are you fucking insane?!" She pushed him away. "Jesus Christ, how much did you drink? You're fucking craz—"

That sentence was left unfinished as he held her face and bent his head to kiss her deeply. His lips were soft, his mouth hot. His tongue thrust into her mouth as he turned them around and pinned her against her car. The next thing she knew, she was kissing him back, shoving her fingers in his tangled hair, moaning his name. They kissed like no one was watching. His hands worked their ways around her body, caressing her body that was made just for him. She was his girl, his one and only. He told himself that before pulling away, one hand on the glass window, the other holding her neck, their foreheads touching. They held each other's intense gaze for a long moment while panting and trembling.

Y/N had only read about the type of kisses that made your head spin and your heart stop, but with him, she could feel everything she'd thought didn't exist. It was always fireworks when they touched, and she could probably never get used to it.

"Why did you do that?" she asked quietly, her hands clenched fistfuls of his shirt.

He sucked in a shaky breath before closing his eyes. "Because you wouldn't hear me out."

"Well, you were rude to me. You hurt my feelings."

"I'm sorry. I was...I was going insane in there," he said, his eyelids fluttered. "I didn't like seeing you with Isaac, and I didn't like how I'd been distracted the whole night just thinking of you. I used to be...good at it you know, putting on a fake smile and parading around like I enjoyed every single moment. But tonight, I could only think about you. I worried that you might not like it, that you weren't happy, that after tonight you would change your mind about our relationship. I just...I hate that you're not like us, you're too good for our pretentious world. So if I'm not careful enough, I can lose you easily."

"I didn't...didn't know you felt that way." She pouted, slowly caressing his cheeks. "I'm sorry, maybe I should've been more understanding."

He shook his head. "No, it was my fault. I didn't realize some people had been awful to you."

"Did Isaac tell you?"

"No, one of the twins accidentally said it." He frowned. "Maybe both of us should've stayed home. I'm not a dick when I'm alone with you."

His remark about himself made her giggle. "I almost threw away my birthday present for you because you were a dick," she said and asked him to give her a moment.

Harry arched an eyebrow as he watched Y/N open her crossbody bag. Before he could say a word, she pulled out from a small pocket a silver signet ring.

"Got this from a thrift store. It's embarrassingly cheap, I promise." She smirked as shock transformed his face.

"Wait, is that..."

Y/N nodded. "I don't remember what your dad's ring looked like exactly, so I'm sorry if this one might look a bit different. I had the word BAMBI engraved instead of your last name. See?"

"Wow, you are narcissistic."

"Oh, shut up!"

Harry was beaming like an excited little boy when she took his left hand and put the piece of jewelry on his ring finger, which fit perfectly.

"Happy sweet twenty-five, my love," she said. "Now you can tell everyone this is the birthday present from someone who really loves you."

Too emotional to speak, Harry dragged his Bambi back into his arms and showered her face with gentle kisses. He repeatedly whispered into her ear how much she meant to him and how lucky he was to have her in his life. Though she already knew, her heart still bloated, filled with affection.

"People have seen us together." She nibbled on her bottom lip while observing his face.

"It's fine, don't worry." He kissed the tip of her nose. Despite what he'd said, the look in his eyes had failed to cover up his fear. "Whatever happens, you'll stay with me right?"

"Always." She pressed her lips against the curve of his jaw, her hands tightened on his hips.

#my girl series #older!harry #actor!harry #harry styles writing #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles series #harry styles smut

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writeyouin · 6 years ago

Text

Swerve X Reader – A Human Crewmate - Chapter 21

Chapter 21 - A Happy Ending

A/N – I cannot believe that I’ve got to this point. I loved getting here, but I’m sad to see it go. Fine, if we must part ways then I’m glad it’s to a happy ending. Based on headcanons by @rocksinmuffin and @straightouttacybertron and starring fan art by the miraculous @bloodypoptart

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Rodimus pouted from his position on the balcony overlooking the entire crew. This was where he usually made announcements, but no, this time you had called for an announcement and Megatron had simply agreed to whatever it was you were about to say. If you only relayed what you were going to say then Rodimus would say it for you, but no, apparently you were going to take one of the best parts of his job away. You assured him it was only going to be this once but he highly doubted that, once you found out how great it was to say anything you wanted while everyone else was forced to listen.

You glanced over to Rodimus sympathetically as if reading his thoughts. He gave a sarcastic thumbs up, indicating you were to start, although he already knew what you were going to say with Swerve stood by your side. Everyone already knew you were dating, thanks to Rewind. This was clearly an announcement to say so officially, probably to save face after the week’s earlier embarrassment. It’s not like he couldn’t say that for you. On his spot. On his ship. As Captain. But it was fine, he wasn’t jealous or anything, so long as you would hurry it up already so he could get back to actually following his quest… as Captain.

While Rodimus heaved a dramatic sigh, which you ignored, you looked at Swerve, silently affirming that he was ready. Swerve grabbed your hand, giving a small squeeze to let you know he was as prepared as he could be, though he was secretly more frightened than he’d ever been in his entire life, including all the years he’d spent in the war; war was inevitably something all Cybertronians were used to, commitment and marriage were much scarier. In war, you could choose to rely only on yourself if it was so desired, in a marriage, you suddenly weren’t alone anymore and as such had so much more to lose.

“You sure you want me to do this?” You whispered to him as the crowd below started to get restless; it reminded you of your first day on the ship, when you had to be publicly announced for the crew to assimilate to you.

“They’ll take it from you better,” Swerve said supportively, but what he really meant was that he had to hear it from you, if only to further prove the wedding was still happening and he wasn’t forcing you into it somehow.

You took a deep breath, not needing to ask for the crew’s attention as all optics were trained on you; even those who couldn’t leave their posts were undoubtedly watching you over the vid-screens. “Hi,” You waved somewhat awkwardly. Rodimus rolled his optics and came over with a microphone, thinking about how he never needed one when it was him making the speeches.

You nodded in thanks, hefting the heavy microphone that was made for Cybertronian size and was almost the same length as your torso. “Okay everyone, so it’s pretty obvious me and Swerve are dating but that’s not what I’m here to announce. Look, before I say what I’ve got to say, well… I’m- Uh, we’re not here to seek validation or for you to ask a bunch of questions or anything like that, it’s just, me and Swerve… Well, um, we’re getting married.”

You bit your lip, waiting for an uproar or maybe some cheering or even a deafening silence. You got neither the reaction you expected nor wanted, as almost the entire crew burst into fits of laughter.

You looked to Swerve for support, but he simply shrugged his shoulders, unsurprised that the crew thought it was all some kind of epic joke. You glanced at Rodimus, who was also in hysterics. Speaking into the microphone again, you said, “Hey, this uh, isn’t a joke, I’m serious, we really are getting married.”

Nobody heard you, but deep in the crowd, Rung, Chromedome, Rewind and Whirl were watching you very closely, knowing that you spoke the truth.

Whirl shook his head, deciding to take control of the situation once and for all. He blasted a loud shot into the ceiling from the one gun he’d managed to hide from Ultra Magnus and always carried around with him for such events that might be made more entertaining with bullets. The room fell silent as Whirl shouted, “THE NEXT PERSON TO LAUGH GETS VENTILATED. NOW, I DON’T KNOW WHAT (Y/N) SEES IN THAT IDIOT, FRAG, SHE’S PROBABLY JUST IN IT FOR THE FREE DRINKS BUT IT’S CLEAR THAT SHE’S NOT JOKING. YOU ALL SAW HOW SHE KISSED HIM ON THAT DAMN TAPE. SWERVE’S GOT GAME, I GUESS.”

You didn’t know what to say now that your entire speech had been derailed. You half expected things would get even crazier or that Ultra Magnus would interject, and it would turn into another debate about gun control. Instead, the entire room turned to you for confirmation and Ultra Magnus was too distracted to help as he cringed at the burn mark on the ceiling, clearly upset that his none of his Roomba armada would be able to reach the ceiling to clean it; besides that, he’d already lost far too many Roombas to the ‘secret’ fights the crew held.

“Yeah…” You said anxiously. “What Whirl said.”

Nobody said anything for a long time and finally Rodimus stepped forward, placing a comforting servo on your shoulder and smiling confidently. You thought he was the first to congratulate you in his own way, but little did you know, he was simply happy to be back in control with what he planned to do next.

“You heard the happy couple,” He beamed. “WE’VE GOT A WEDDING TO PLAN!”

Finally, there was a small cheer as everyone came to terms with what was happening. “Okay,” Rodimus said, “So I’m thinking we’ve got a lot to do and little time. Seven cycles sounds about right.”

You glanced at Swerve, seeing how everything was completely out of your hands; in seven days the two of you would be married. Everything in your life since joining the Lost Light had happened in whirlwind time, it should have been no surprise that your wedding would be no different.

“Alright,” Rodimus continued as he began pointing out people in the crowd, “Brainstorm and Perceptor, you two are on the (Y/N)’s bride outfit. Ultra Magnus, catering detail. Rewind, I want all kinds of documentation, I’m talking films, interviews with the bride and groom on their take on the love story, get everything you can. Blaster, you’re on music. Ten, Tailgate and Cyclonus, You three are on decorations.”

Cyclonus scowled, but before he could argue, Rodimus shouted his name, “HEY, DON’T LOOK AT ME LIKE THAT! YOU NEVER USE THAT SWORD FOR ANYTHING USEFUL ANYMORE ANYWAY… Primus, at least use it to cut up some origami or something. What does that leave… Mirage, you’re on bartending duty since Swerve can’t be and, let’s see, um…”

Swerve stepped forward to protest his distaste for Mirage, his chief contender, serving drinks at his wedding, but you held him back, “You really wanna serve drinks at your own wedding?”

Swerve sighed, and wrapped his arm around you, “I guess not, but the reception will be at my bar, not his.”

“Whatever you need to sleep at night, handsome,” You patted his chassis.

Rodimus practically glowed as he made his final announcement, “And last but certainly not least, only I can be the priest or whatever as the Captain of th-”

“CO-CAPTAIN,” A voice from the throng called.

Rodimus leaned over the railing, curling his fist angrily, “WHO SAID THAT?!”

Nobody answered, and Rodimus straightened up, pouting. “Fine, as Co-Captain I will officiate, Megatron can… I dunno, Megatron can be Swerve’s best man I guess.”

Megatron gritted his dentae and while he and Rodimus argued it out, Swerve looked at you pitifully, “Should I even try arguing this one?”

You gave his servo a squeeze, “Honestly, I don’t think you’d win.”

“Yeah. Me neither.”

The two of you held onto one another, the calm in the eye of the storm until Rodimus said, “Till all are one,” marking that the speech was over.

“Hey,” Swerve said, “You okay to be on your own for a while? I’ve got to sort something out… It’s a surprise.”

You smiled, “How intriguing. You think you can keep a secret?”

“Every once in a while,” Swerve chuckled.

“You know, it’s bad to keep secrets in a marriage, this could very well destroy us.”

“We’re not married yet.”

“Fine,” You said playfully, “Keep your secrets. It’s just as well, I’ve got to see Rung anyway.”

Swerve kissed your head lovingly and the two of you parted ways, each on your own little mission, preparing to begin a new adventure, together.

It was taking you much longer than usual to get to Rung’s because every time someone saw you, they stopped to congratulate you, and more than once, you found your path blocked by various wedding preparations. You even heard talk that some of the bots were struggling to rearrange Swerve’s; you hoped that wasn’t true because if it was, Swerve was going to have an aneurism.

Finally, your goal was in sight and you foolishly thought you were going to make it to Rung’s office until you were once again plucked out of the air by Whirl who threw you into a supply closet, locking the door behind himself.

You remembered the days you used to be afraid of such a situation, now they had become your normal. Although breathless by the impromptu kidnapping, you decided you still had to thank Whirl for his earlier rescue in the speech, if it wasn’t for him, none of the ship’s hubbub would be happening right now.

“Whirl, I-”

Whirl waved his claw casually, “Yeah, yeah, can it fleshie, I got something important to say. ‘Kay, now I’m not saying that marrying Swerve is bad but I’ve gotta ask, you sure you don’t wanna switch to a real mech?” He pointed to himself. “I’m a real prize, y’know. Nobody can take me in a fight. Tell me, what’s better than that?”

You couldn’t help yourself as you doubled over laughing, holding onto his leg for support, “Whirl, what the hell man?”

“Don’t blow this off so easily, really think about it, this is a one-time offer, trading Swerve for me.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, still snickering. “I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, but hey, if you would do me a favour and be my mech of honour, that’d be great.”

Whirl had seen enough of the films in Swerve’s bar to know what you were asking. He rolled his optic sarcastically, “You have no idea of what we could’ve had but sure, go with the orange guy. Fine, I guess I can be the mech of honour… Does that mean I get to kill Swerve if he runs?”

“I- Um- Maybe try not to do that.”

“What about stabbing him a little?”

“I’d uh- rather have him kept whole.”

“Gotcha,” Whirl attempted a wink, which ended up being one unusually long blink. “Psychological torture and a light-beating only.”

You patted his leg in a supporting manner, “Sure, that sounds like a deal.”

Turning around, Whirl unlocked the door, letting you out first. “As your mech of honour, I’m gonna go train. Gotta get buff if that orange scumbag tries to run. Primus, I hope he runs.”

You blew Whirl a kiss, which he tried hard to ignore blushing slightly anyway, “You do that big guy; you’ll be the best mech of honour a girl could have.”

Whirl walked away, leaving you to finally get to Rung’s office. You jumped up to the door buzzer, taking three attempts before you managed to press it, silently cursing yourself for not wearing your rocket boots.

Rung opened the door, a look of surprise contorting his features. He thought he’d be the last bot you would want to see, considering his slightly strained relationship with Swerve. “(Y/N), what a pleasant surprise. Is this a professional meeting or a social call?”

He highly doubted it was the latter, becoming further shocked when you claimed it to be just that. Settling himself down in his chair, and giving you a boost to the desk, he waited for you to set the tone of the conversation, ever conscious that if he spoke first, he would blur the lines between patient and friend. Although he didn’t fully approve on your and Swerve’s hasty decision, he was determined to be supportive, afraid that if he wasn’t you would stop visiting him in both personal and professional terms.

When it became clear that you weren’t sure how to start, Rung found it impossible to ignore his processor, and spoke up quietly, “Presumably, you’re set on your decision so I’ll spare the lecture and simply ask, is this definitely what you want?”

You tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, looking Rung in the optics, “More than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life. I love him Rung. He makes me feel safe and God, so, so happy.”

Rung nodded, satisfied with you answer, “Very well. Then I suppose congratulations are in order.”

“Thank you. I um- Excuse me for getting straight to the point but I need to know something, how much do you know about human weddings?”

“Not a lot, I’m afraid.”

You paced the table, taking time to find the right words, “Right… well, me and Swerve have decided that we’re going to somehow mesh our traditions, one wedding with the Endurae Ceremony thrown in. In human weddings there’s this role I need filling and it’s super important to pick the right person.”

Rung observed you, waiting for you to ask his advice on who to pick. He sighed, deciding to intervene before things got out of hand, “(Y/N), I cannot influence your choices on who to choose during your ceremony. It would be unethical-”

You grabbed his servo, “I want you to walk me down the aisle like the father of the bride is supposed to.”

Although Rung didn’t know what the significance was behind your request, he could tell from the tone of your voice that it was an important role. He took off his glasses, wiping away some coolant, “(Y/N), you’re sure about this?”

“Rung, you’ve guided me since my first steps on this crazy ship. You’ve made me a better person, and there is nobody I’d rather have giving me away than you. You’re the closest thing I have to a dad here and I want you by my side on my wedding day.”

Graciously, Rung bowed his head, “It would be my honour and a pleasure.”

You grinned, jumping to hug his chassis, feeling the comforting warmth of his arms wrapping around you, “Thank You.”

Rung stroked your back, waiting till you pulled away from him before speaking again. “The pleasure is all mine, though if you could tell me more about my role and how I am to fulfil it, that would be greatly appreciated.”

“Yeah, sure. Well, to put it-”

You were interrupted by the sound of a gong echoing over the ship’s announcement system, followed by Rodimus’ impatient voice. “(Y/N), how many times have I gotta tell you to carry around your communicator? Honestly, it’s zero, but you’re slipping, forgetting it in your room. Do you know how rude that is? What if we needed to track you? Like we did, right now, today, for a VERY important thing.”

You stared at Rung, silently begging him to tell you your communicator hadn’t really been bugged with a tracking device like you would give a dog or child. Rung raised his servos sympathetically as Rodimus continued his rant.

“What? You think I’m gonna tell you what the super cool thing is. Guess again. But if you’re not in rec-room 2B in ten minutes- wait, scrap that, make it twenty, gotta account for those tiny little legs… so cute. Anyway, twenty minutes, or I make no promises on what I’ll do to your room. Captain out!”

You shook your head disbelievingly, “I uh, I guess I have to go. Sorry Rung, rain check?”

Rung chuckled light-heartedly, “Yes, of course. Go find out what Rodimus wants, and don’t worry about me. I’m going to do all the research I can into human weddings.”

He helped you down from the desk, wishing you well as you ran down the hallways, trying to beat the timer Rodimus had set, and cursing the entire time as a cramp formed, hitting you like a needle every few seconds.

When you finally got to rec-room 2B, Rodimus was waiting outside, tapping his pede. “Primus, did you skip leg day? I’ve been waiting here forever,” He whined.

You held your hand up, ready to argue, but quickly let it drop, still trying to catch your breath.

Rodimus shook his head, placing a servo on the small of your back and guiding you into the room where a table was waiting with three seats. Cyclonus sat on the left seat and Nautica on the right, leaving the tall, middle seat for you. With Nautica’s assistance, you clambered up, watching Rodimus as he ran out of the room.

“What’s going on?” You asked worriedly.

“Don’t know,” Nautica said. “Rodimus dragged me in here as quickly as he could. Told me if I waited long enough, he’d get me a whole set of new tools… I think that was a lie.”

You nodded thoughtfully, turning to the ever stoic Cyclonus. “Tailgate,” He answered curtly, as if that was any kind of explanation.

Rodimus, re-entered the room, placing both servos on his cheeks, his mouth forming into a socked ‘O’ as if he never knew you were there. “Why, what have we here?” He asked loudly, strutting in front of the table like a peacock. “Well, if it isn’t our table of judges for the brand new, one-time-only, mech of honour contest! Today, for our three judges, we have a line a mile long, full of hopeful contestants to be (Y/N)’S MECH OF HONOUR!” He revved his engines excitedly.

“Uh, Rodimus,” You squeaked, thinking of Whirl. “I already-”

“AND HERE’S CONTESTANT NUMBER ONE!”

Tailgate skipped in, clearly having been trained by Rodimus on exactly where to stand. His visor flashed eagerly as he waved at you.

Rodimus patted him on his shoulder, “Tailgate, why don’t you tell our panel a little bit about yourself and why you deserve to be (Y/N)’S MECH OF HONOUR!”

“Are you gonna shout that every time?” Nautica asked almost boredly, thinking of the tools she would never get.

“Withhold any comments until after the audition please, judge Nautica,” Rodimus commanded, his optics still trained on Tailgate who began his audition.

“Hi, I’m Tailgate and I’d make a great mech of honour for the same reasons I’d make a great Co-Co-Captain.”

A few other mechs peaked in from outside, trying to determine what they were supposed to say during their auditions.

“Rodimus,” You smiled awkwardly, feeling it stretch too far across your face.

“Not now judge,” Rodimus waved you off.

You sighed, seeing that there were no other options. “I already have a mech of honour!” You told the room, “I picked Whirl earlier.”

Riptide booed from outside, and Tailgate began muttering to himself, “Don’t get to be mech of honour, don’t get to be Co-Co-Captain, don’t get to be anything.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but I didn’t know you were planning any of this,” You gestured at the line of mechs who were blocking the door to listen in.

“(Y/N),” Rodimus held his helm in his palm. “(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)… You know how impulsive I am, why didn’t you tell me?”

“Don’t blame me!”

“I blame you!”

You pinched the bridge of your nose, feeling the disappointment surrounding you. “Ugh, fine, I guess I can have two bridesmai- uh bridesmechs.”

Upon hearing this, Tailgate pushed Rodimus away from you, “As I was saying. I would be the best candidate for a tonne of reasons, right Cyclonus?” He winked.

“I’m not going to be a part of this,” Cyclonus deadpanned, leaving the room solemnly.

“Wha- CYCLONUS, COME BAAAACK,” Tailgate whined, chasing after him.

Nautica pulled out her datapad, making a note. “Hmm, chases after his own personal problems instead of focusing on the bride. Not a good quality in a bridesmech. Too bad, he was doing so well until then.”

You smirked, amused with how scientific she was even now; it looked like most of the decisions of the contest would be up to her for the rest of the game Rodimus had dragged you both into.

“Contestant number two, we are waiting for you,” Rodimus called, in a game-show host kind of voice.

Riptide stepped forward, “Hi, I’m Riptide, but all my friends call me… uh Riptide.”

You snickered into the palm of your hand, finally beginning to see the appeal in Rodimus’ game, even if it was to be a long one, judging by the ever-growing queue outside.

Swerve hugged you close to him, wrapping you in your blanket that he’d moved over to his berth along with an assortment of pillows. You had already told him of your long day and how it ended with you picking Nautica, Tailgate, Rewind, Chromedome, and Riptide as your bridesmechs, mainly because everyone kept complaining until you did.

“A gaggle,” You groaned. “I have a gaggle of bridesmaids.”

“Bridesmechs,” Swerve corrected you playfully.

“They’re like Gremlins! Spill water on one and it multiplies.”

“Primus, I love you,” Swerve murmured at the reference.

You peeked up at him, frowning suddenly, “Hmm, you’re awfully quiet tonight. What’s going on?”

“I’ve been talking.”

“Yeah, talking but not babbling. What’s with that? I mean- Wait!” You sat up, “Are you trying to keep your secret thing quiet by not talking.”

Swerve blushed, going ridged, “NO!”

You slapped his chest, grinning idiotically, “You totally are. What is it? Come on, tell me!”

Swerve mimed zipping his lips and throwing away the key.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?”

He nodded vigorously.

“I bet I can get those lips open.”

He shook his head. You placed a single finger under his chin, drawing him close to you and kissing him, slipping your tongue in to rub against his metal one. He moaned into your mouth, accepting defeat, even when you pulled away.

The two of you laid down again, and Swerve finally spoke, albeit quietly, “Are you happy?”

“Of course, why do you ask?”

“It’s just… in Mork and Mindy, they waited four years for the slow burn until Mork proposed to Mindy. Four seasons, that’s like four years for you guys. Are you sure I’m not rushing you?”

You stroked Swerve’s cheek, “I think this is more like a Sam and Diane kind of thing in Cheers.”

“Sam and Diane… (Y/N), are you breaking up with me?”

“What? No, they get together in like, season one.”

“And then they repeatedly break up and they finally stop seeing each other after breaking off their engagement in the season four finale.”

“Really? God, I have got to see more of that show.”

Swerve let go of you, “You haven’t seen all of cheers?!”

“Save it for the honeymoon babe. What I meant was, they spend ages beating around the bush until they’re finally together and then it’s a full-on relationship, in season one at least. Now come on, no more Cheers talk, tell me at least a little bit about your day, pretty please.”

“Fine,” Swerve huffed, “But the Cheers thing isn’t over, it’s just on hold.”

You nodded agreeably.

“What to tell you, what to tell you… Oh, I chose our song for the first dance.”

“Is it one of those funny ones where we pretend to slow dance then pick out a hip-hop number?”

“W—well, not uh, not really,” Swerve stammered, feeling heat rise to his cheeks as his cooling fans kicked on. “I-I mean we could do that if you want, but I was thinking something more traditional?”

“Really? I thought you’d like an opportunity to show off.”

“I uh- I guess we could. I’d have to pick a different song but if that’s what you want then…”

Seeing how much Swerve wanted his traditional dance made your heart flutter. You pecked his lips, “No, whatever you’ve picked will be perfect, I just know it.”

“I’m still not telling you what song it is,” Swerve smiled.

“Oh, come on,” You pouted, “I’d tell you. Man… I cannot believe you can keep a secret.”

“Speaking of secrets… I’ve been thinking about how to integrate the four acts of The Conjunx Rites into a human wedding and, uh… how much do you know about the Conjunx Rites, by the way?”

“Between my vast knowledge of everything? I know… nothing.”

Swerve vented his fans anxiously, “Um, the first act is the act of intimacy.”

You bit back a laugh, thinking of the night before with Swerve between your legs. Reaching over and tracing your fingers lightly over his interface panel, you winked, “Pretty sure we already got that one covered.”

Swerve blushed and stammered on, “I-I was thinking we c-c-could just hold hands or something, for the crowds.”

You giggled, and stopped teasing him, keeping your hands to yourself, “Alright, then what?”

“I’m gonna save Act 2 for last because I dunno, we’re rebels and kinda screwing with tradition as it is, so next is the act of profference. We have to give each other a gift of some kind.”

Reaching behind him, Swerve pulled a small orange metal box from underneath the mountain of pillows. “I want to give you this officially on the day, but I think you should see it now.”

Wordlessly, you took the box, opening it to find a plain purple ring, the likes of which you’d never seen before. While you stared at it, Swerve started explaining.

“I don’t know if you’ll get it, but it’s made out of my innermost energon… Percy found a way to stabilize it into a metal, so, uh, well, it’s important to me and I’ll explain if you need me to.”

As it happened, you didn’t need Swerve to explain; you already knew that receiving inner-most energon was the highest form of love and respect you could receive from a Cybertronian.

“I get it,” You said quietly, wiping your eyes free of tears.

Trying to alleviate the sombre, yet joyous mood, Swerve said, “Brainstorm wanted to make it, but he was planning to inscribe it with ‘One Ring to Rule Them All.’ There’s still a good chance, he’ll put something like that on your dress.”

You bit your lip, trying not to laugh. Closing the box gently, you handed it back to him, “I don’t know what I can possibly give you that could ever match up to that.”

“You’ve already given me something though (Y/N).”

“Please do not say that boxset of ‘Three Men and a Baby’ I found.”

“(Y/N), you’re exempt from act three because you’ve already given me something nobody else could; a reason to live.”

You looked up, shocked and afraid, despite his happy tone. You were about to say something when Swerve got the ball rolling again with act four. “The final act is the act of devotion, which is to perform a spectacular demonstration of love. I think we can both agree that’s the wedding.”

“So, then what’s act two?” You whispered, feeling an almost electric atmosphere once you asked.

“The Act of Disclosure, which I think we should do here and now, otherwise it kind of defeats the object of telling an intimate secret… We can’t really do that in front of a crowd.”

Swerve waited with bated breath to see your reaction; asking someone who wasn’t prepared to reveal something intimate about themselves wasn’t exactly comforting.

“I…” You took a deep breath. “On Earth, there was always so much pressure to find someone who you’re meant to be with. They don’t really show it on TV, but we are told all the time that we have to find somebody or die alone, there’s never any time to relax or be free under so much damn pressure and it is terrifying to think that we- that I was brainwashed into it just like everyone else. ”

“I never trusted anyone enough to think of them as someone I’d want to be with. When I got here, I acted more confident and mature and, I um, guess it was kind of a clean slate for me. I never actually expected that I’d find someone to spend my life with but suddenly, when the pressure to fall in love was off, I met you. Swerve, you are my happy ending, when I didn’t think I could have one anymore. I don’t um- Is that what you were thinking? Is it intimate enough? I don’t really know what I’m supposed to be do-”

Swerve pulled you into a hug, his entire body convulsing in silent sobs. Suddenly, you knew why this step was so important, and so you held him, until he was ready to share his secret.

Swerve shook himself, as if trying to physically shake his nerves away, though it was evident he couldn’t as his vocaliser filled with static when he spoke. “Um, I’ve… Let’s face it, I’ve lived through a war. I’ve seen horrible things, done worse sometimes but that’s no secret of any Cybertronian. My secret is- W-What I’m trying to say… When war lasts that long, you have to expect that people, even the most desperate are going to be pushed into relationships, some of which last, most of which break. Some are intimate, but a lot were purely sexual… My point is, that even though I looked for anything in either of those categories, nobody ever loved me- Scrap, nobody even liked me enough to well… Y’know, uh- You were my first.”

Swerve half-expected you to laugh, despite the sober atmosphere. Instead you drew him close once again, staring into his visor, “Then all those others were idiots and I got lucky. I love you and I am so damn proud to be your first.”

Swerve looked away, “You’re not embarrassed by that?”

You shook your head, feeling your way over to his interface panel, a misty glint to your eyes. Swerve grabbed hold of you gently, still not meeting your gaze,

“Then… Then you won’t be embarrassed if I ask to wait till after the wedding? I know we already did it before but now… I want to wait till we’re married, and you are Mrs. Swerve.”

You drew back scowling, “What the hell, Swerve?”

He shrank back from you, wrapping his arms around himself.

“Why? Why would I be Mrs Swerve? You don’t even have a last name, if anything, you’d be Mr (L/N).”

Swerve’s jaw dropped as he stared at you, soon grinning goofily. “Is this how it’s gonna be from now on?” He asked. “You giving the orders and me just obeying like the mindless idiot who worships you?”

“Pretty much.”

“Thank Primus,” He laughed, grabbing you and rolling back onto the berth so you were on his chassis again.

You woke up, with a nauseous stomach, finally afraid now it was your wedding day. How had seven days passed so quickly?

“Swerve?” You mumbled. “You awake?”

You turned over, finding the berth empty, aside from a note that had been messily scrawled over the rest of the berth.

Hey fleshbag, it’s bad luck to see the groom on the wedding.

Swerve will be returned, mostly in one piece at the wedding.

- M. O. H. (MECH OF HONOUR)

You smiled, the message alleviating your nerves slightly. All the same, you wanted to call Swerve and make sure he wasn’t getting cold pedes. Had it not been for a banging on the door, you would have.

“Who is it?” You called, falling off the berth ungracefully and hissing as you rubbed your sore hip.

“It’s your fairy godmother,” Brainstorm answered cheerily. “With your carriage and might I say, a very glamorous ensemble for you.”

You opened the door wide, “…Does it have your face on it?”

Brainstorm gasped, covering his faceplate playfully. “Y/N, this is your big day and you think I would make it about me? How dare you? I’ll have you know that this is a traditional Earth wedding outfit that I have lovingly synthesized with you in mind.”

“So Perceptor wouldn’t let you?”

“Not even when I offered to put his photo on it too, talk about selfish.”

You nodded almost mournfully, playing along with his game, “That prick.”

“Yeah… Anyway, here it is,” He stepped outside, bringing your outfit back with him. It was in the traditional white, but instead of being a dress or a tuxedo, it was both. There was a small white zip for you to tear away either the skirt or the pants so you could choose your style. You teared up slightly.

“Yeah,” Brainstorm said sympathetically, “I mean it is good, but I’d cry too if my face wasn’t on it, where it clearly should be. No time for that now though, your carriage awaits.”

You tore your eyes away from the outfit, peeking through the door to see a giant truck with a bow on it; the bow had Brainstorm’s face on it.

“Magnus?” You asked, somewhat dazed.

“(Y/N), it’s almost time for your wedding and you have not even done your hair yet? This is going to throw everything off schedule,” Ultra Magnus reprimanded, proving that it was indeed him. He sighed, switching to his communicator, “Rodimus, (Y/N) isn’t ready yet… I already told you- No I will not use those ridiculous code names and furthermore- You will refer to me as Ultra Magnus or else- Fine,” Ultra Magnus said defeatedly, apparently losing whatever argument he was in with Rodimus. “Flaming Cupid, Princess Perfect is running late. Keep Lucky Orange calm and where he is, we will be there soon.”

You giggled quietly to yourself.

“I heard that Princess- I mean (Y/N). Get inside and get ready. Schedules wait for nobody.”

“Okay, I’m going, but real quick, are you comfortable doing this? You’ve never driven me anywhere before.”

“(Y/N), this may well be the most important day of your life, I would not be here if it wasn’t.”

Brainstorm leaned over to you, covering his mouth-plate and whispering, “He was afraid anyone else would speed.”

“Speed laws are to be obeyed,” Ultra Magnus warned you exasperatedly.

With that, you skipped back into your room to get ready for the first day of the rest of your life.

Swerve waited at the end of the aisle with shaking legs, the only thing that kept him from pacing was Megatron’s servo on his shoulder; the action was supposed to be supportive, but coming from Megatron, it only felt intimidating.

“I’m gonna purge my tanks,” Swerve whimpered.

“Do it glitch, I dare ya,” Whirl warned from opposite him, throwing a metal, painted bouquet at Swerve and hitting him square on the head, much to Megatron’s chagrin.

“Hey!” Rodimus picked up the bouquet, shoving it at Whirl’s chassis. “Remember, we’re here for (Y/N).”

“And me too, right?” Swerve squeaked, feeling faint.

Rodimus rolled his optics, “Yeah, yeah, you too, whatever you need to tell yourself.”

Suddenly, music began playing, and everyone stood up as they’d been told to do. Nautica, Rewind, Chromedome, Riptide and Tailgate ran to the front where they were supposed to be just in time for Ultra Magnus to drive around the corner and let you out. Ultra Magnus transformed, spotting his Brainstorm bow for the first time and tearing it off in disgust. He took his place in the back, while Rung went to your side in his holo-form, so he could link arms with you.

You barely had time to look around at all the intricate decorations as you were walked down the aisle towards Swerve who looked completely dumbfounded that you’d actually showed up.

“Are you nervous?” Rung asked you quietly.

“Absolutely,” You whispered back.

“Don’t be, from everything you’ve told me over our messages this past week, you’ll do great.”

You squeezed his arm in thanks.

“I believe it is customary for the ‘father of the bride’ to offer a compliment. I may not be your creator, but I must say, you are glowing. I am truly happy for you (Y/N), ah, but here is where we part ways.”

Rung went to take his seat, but you pulled him back slightly, pecking his cheek, “Thank you. For everything, I mean. I wouldn’t be here without you.”

Rung put a hand over his spark, bowing his head humbly and leaving your side, as you went to join Swerve.

“Finally,” Rodimus groaned, “That took forever.”

Chromedome nudged him warningly, giving Whirl just enough time to lean close to you, “Told you I’d get the glitch here in one piece.”

You nodded, holding back a laugh at the already unconventional wedding.

“Alright,” Rodimus boomed, “Let’s get on with it so we can get to the P-A-R-T-Y!”

Megatron glared at Rodimus, silently telling him to tone it down, but Rodimus didn’t care as he went into a full-on impression of an over-the-top-preacher. “I have been told that Act two of the Conjunx Rites has been completed, can I get a HALLELUJAH?!”

The entire room cringed and Rodimus scowled, “Ugh fine.” He grew semi-serious, facing you and Swerve with a smile, “Swerve, (Y/N), if you would like to initiate Act One of the Conjunx Rites?”

You reached out for Swerve’s servo, smiling radiantly the entire time. Thankful that you had made the first move, Swerve grabbed your hand gratefully, squeezing a little too tight, though you didn’t mention it.

“Very good, and I believe you have something to give one another?”

Once again, you surprised Swerve by holding out an orange metal box, identical to his. He reached out carefully, “(Y/N)… What-”

“Open it,” You said.

He did, finding a locket that would fit perfectly in one of his sub-spaces. He flicked open the locket, finding a lock of hair inside. He stared at you, mouth slightly agape at the unexpected gift.

“I may not have any inner-energon, but I figured this is close enough.”

Rewind leaned forward to get a better view, his camera displaying a live-feed to all the vid-screens on the ship, including two large ones for all the attendees.

“Ha ha,” Riptide laughed, “Gross.”

Nautica nudged him and Swerve ignored the pair as he tucked the locket delicately into his subspace, offering you his own box shortly afterwards, letting you put on the energon ring yourself because his servos were shaking so badly.

“Great,” Rodimus clapped his servos together, “Then that leaves act four, Swerve, I believe you’ve prepared some vows but I looked at them and they were long, so here’s a queue card that I wrote and believe me, it’s an improvement.”

He pulled a card from behind him which Megatron firmly snatched away, glaring the entire time, “Let. Him. Speak.”

Rodimus grumbled, stepping back, “Fine. Bet he doesn’t say ‘Till we are one’ though.”

All optics and Rewind’s camera went onto Swerve who stood dumbly, unsure of what to say now that he didn’t have his datapad with the speech on it. “I um-” His voice filled with static and he had to wait a minute to clear it. Ratchet creeped behind him, turning a fan on in case he overheated; you withheld a wry smile.

“(Y/N),” Swerve began, “You- You’re the Monica to my Chandler. You listen to me even when I get crazy and I know I’m not good enough for you, Primus, this whole ship does, but you’re here anyway. I want to spend every nano-click with you, in the non-creepy way. You’re my universe.”

The static began again and Swerve had to take a small step back, though he still held onto you, more for support than anything else.

“(Y/N),” Rodimus said, “Care to add anything to that?”

“What can I say other than what I’ve already said?” You mused. “You’re my happy ending Swerve, and if you can deal with all my gross human stuff, that’s good enough for me. I love you, you’re my lucky star… and I’m totally in it for the free drinks,” You laughed and the crowd chuckled along with you.

“Then by the power vested in me,” Rodimus went back to his preacher voice, “as Co-Captain of this ship, I present to you, these Rodimus stars for the Lost Light’s first ever interspecies marriage.” Seemingly from nowhere, he pulled out two gold stars, passing the human-sized one to you and handing the other to Swerve. “I now pronounce you Conjunx Endurae and mech and wife.” He looked at Swerve, “What are you waiting for? Kiss your lady love!”

You didn’t wait for Swerve as you jumped into his open arms, kissing him while the crew cheered.

The two of you were broken up by a loud shot from another gun Whirl had managed to smuggle in. Once again, Ultra Magnus stared mournfully at the ceiling, wondering exactly where Whirl had got the other gun from; he had confiscated last week’s after the first incident.

Whirl picked you up, “FIRST ONE TO THE PARTY GETS A PRIZE KISS OFF (Y/N).”

A mass of Cybertronians transformed, each trying to beat Whirl to the bar while Swerve was left alone, wondering how he was still left competing with the crew over you, even now that you were married.

After you’d given a victory kiss to Whirl, the party kicked off to a roaring start, with you being dragged off in every direction while Swerve tried to catch up. Finally, you managed to reach him at the bar, which he glared at enviously, hating that Mirage was serving drinks, even on the happiest day of his life.

“Hello, Mr (L/N),” You bowed graciously.

“Hello, Mrs Swerve,” Swerve curtsied. He offered you his arm, “If I may ask you for a dance?”

“How courteous of you,” You smiled, then paused to listen to the current song. “Yep, I always wanted my first dance to be to Wrecking Ball.”

Swerve snickered, “I’m afraid not.”

He led you to the dancefloor then waved at Blaster, who instantly switched the song off. Frank Sinatra’s ever sweet melody, ‘I Love You Baby,’ played instead and you bit your lip, fearing your face would practically split open from smiling too much. Swerve led, matching the pace of the song, and gazing at you adoringly the entire time.

“This was your big surprise?” You asked.

He nodded vigorously, not trusting his voice to match the lie he’d just told; so long as you thought the song was his secret, he was fine.

You leaned into his chassis, ignoring the faster pace of the chorus so you could simply hold onto him, spinning slowly, “I love you too.”

“Not as much as I love you,” Swerve responded ecstatically, picking you up bridal style. You squealed, letting him twirl around, helpless to stop him anyway. All around, the night was perfect and you would never dream of asking for anything more.

Later on, when you were distracted once again by many a bot who wanted to congratulate you, Swerve received a comm on his private channel. He checked his messages, finding a text from Brainstorm and Perceptor, telling him his request was ready. Checking on you once again, Swerve slipped out, transforming so he could be at Perceptor’s lab in record time.

He let himself in, finding the two bots talking about you and the ethics of the project Swerve had asked them to complete. “It’s ready?” Swerve asked. “And you’re sure it will work?”

“Of course,” Perceptor said almost offendedly. “We invented it. It works.”

“Can I see?”

Brainstorm grabbed a remote control, pressing it with flair so one of the flooring panels lifted up as well as thick plumes of smoke.

Perceptor waved the smoke away casually, “Was the smoke machine really necessary?”

“Well you wouldn’t let me have the laser show,” Brainstorm explained. “Where’s your sense of presentation?”

Swerve didn’t listen to either of the pair, he was too focused on what had come out of the floor to care.

Perceptor turned his attention to Swerve as the orange mech stroked a lifeless mini-bot model that looked remarkably like you yet worlds different at the same time. “Are you sure (Y/N) will agree to this? We are talking about moving her consciousness from one body to another.”

“Human life is too short,” Swerve said as if it was an answer. “She doesn’t have to say yes today. Primus! I want her to stay human as long as she can but… But I just got her, I’m not losing her in the blink of an optic. Make sure this will work, I’ll get her to agree. She’s everything to me.”

He walked out of the lab, transforming so he could get back to the party. Finally, things were going his way.

THE END.

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#more than meets the eye #MTMTE #transformers #transformers idw #Transformers MTMTE #maccadam #The Lost Light #ll #swerve #swerve x reader #swerve x human reader #reader #reader insert #every bot ever known to man #chapter 21 #part 21 #a happy ending

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three-drink-amy · 5 years ago

Text

If After All These Years, You’d Like to Meet

master list -AO3

Note:Thank you all for the continued support of this fic almost 20 chapters in! I truly appreciate all the feedback that you leave! It certainly helps me keep writing. There are only a couple of chapters left in this story and I hope you’ll stay along for it!

Chapter Nineteen

Claire stood surrounded by boxes, looking around her flat. She was never claustrophobic, but at that moment, she just felt incredibly crowded. The door opened and Jamie walked in bearing a grin. “And here we have it, the last box!” he announced, raising the box in the air. He sat it down on top of one of the many other boxes of his. “Sassenach, are ye alright?” he asked, throwing himself down on the couch.

She snapped her head in his direction, shaking from her thoughts. “I’m fine. Why?”

“Ye look a bit...overwhelmed.”

Claire weaved herself around the boxes and walked over by the couch. “Nope. I’m alright. So, what should we unpack first?”

Jamie frowned. “Ye realize we moved John out of his flat and into mine and then moved me out of mine and into here? Ye realize that all happened today? And now ye’d like to start unpacking?”

Claire shrugged. “It just seemed like something to do. Also would be less clutter.”

“If I recall correctly, I came here three whole weeks after ye’d moved in and there were still boxes laying about,” Jamie reminded her. Claire looked over and glared at him, making him chuckle. “Is unpacking what ye’d really like to do for our first night of living together?”

Claire sat down on the couch next to him. “No, not really. But I don’t think you’re up to what I’d really have us do.”

He looked over at her, a curious look in his eyes. “If it’s something to do wi’ yer body, ye ken I’d find the energy for it.”

Claire grinned. “Good answer.” Jamie picked up her hand where it rested between them and placed a kiss on the back. “Do you think this place is big enough for both of us?” Claire asked, temporarily ignoring his gesture.

Jamie sighed but still held onto her hand. “Yes. We’ve essentially been living here for months anyway.”

“Well yes, but your stuff wasn’t here.”

Jamie scoffed, dropping her hand as he turned to face her. “I barely brought anything. I left most of my stuff for John. I brought a dresser and a desk and that’s it furniture wise. Ye ken my clothes willna take up much space. What are ye really worried about?” Claire opened her mouth to reply but Jamie kept talking. “Is this some subtle way of trying to get rid of my things because ye dinna like them?”

Claire burst out laughing. “Not at all, Jamie!” She shook her head as she looked at him. “I genuinely worry there’s not enough space.”

Jamie rolled his eyes. “I think we’ll be fine. Ye have a rather spacious flat, if ye hadna realized.” He paused for a moment. “Look, I’ll promise no’ to take up too much space in yer flat.”

Claire looked over at him, noting the sincerity on his face. She crawled onto his lap, holding his face in her hands. “Don’t say that,” she whispered. “I want you to take as much space as you want. This isn’t my flat anymore. It’s ours. And that’s the way I want it.” She wouldn’t break her gaze, making sure he knew she was serious. “Jamie, I want you here. You and all your crap.”

“My crap?” he asked through a laugh.

She smirked. “You know what I mean.”

Jamie shook his head with a grin, craning his neck up to kiss her. “Thank ye for saying that, mo nighean donn, because this is where I want to be too.”

Claire bent her head down to meet him for a long kiss, their tired bodies melting together as they grew more heated. Jamie’s hands glued themselves to her bottom as Claire’s hands held him close. She rolled her hips against his, feeling him harden. Jamie broke their kiss to plant a line of kisses down her neck. She sighed contentedly, her fingers moving to ruffle through his hair.

“Should we christen the couch?” Jamie breathed against her chest.

Claire laughed. “You realize that we christened the couch a long time ago.”

“No’ as a couple who officially lives together,” Jamie reminded her, meeting her again for another heated kiss. His tongue was deep in her mouth, leaving her incapable of replying. Instead of answering with words, she simply started pulling at the waistband of her own pants. Jamie took notice, breaking their kiss quickly to assist her. He pulled off her shirt and bra, almost immediately bringing his mouth to her chest. She panted loudly, holding him there.

Claire grinded her hips against his, noting how he was far more clothed than she was. “Take off your pants,” she ordered.

Jamie pulled back, staring up at her for a second before he processed her words. With a nod, he reached for his pants while Claire lifted herself off his lap. She reached to pull them down faster than he was moving. “Eager are ye?” Jamie teased with a grin.

Claire grabbed hold of his cock as it was freed, causing Jamie to gasp. “Seems I’m not the only one.” His shirt was still on and his pants weren’t even all the way down his legs when he pulled Claire back to him, his mouth meeting urgently. His hand trailed down her thigh finding her center. “Christ, ye’re so wet.”

She bent down to whisper in his ear, “You know the effect you have on me.”

Jamie groaned. “Sassenach…” He looked back up at her, kissing her again deeply before entering her. She sank down onto his lap, taking him deeper as she rolled her hips against him. Both of them cried out at their joining. Foreheads pressed together, they rocked against the other with a desperate energy. Jamie’s hands roved her back and landed at her ass, kneading firmly. Claire clutched his shoulders, her nails digging in through his shirt. Wanting to feel his slick skin against hers, she yanked at his shirt, pulling it off him in one motion before closing all distance between their bodies.

“Ye feel so good,” Jamie sighed into her neck. Claire replied by kissing him languidly as they continued to meet each other thrust for thrust.

She could tell he was getting close as his movements became more erratic. His hand dropped to where they were joined, stroking her to encourage her along. She cried out, telling him to keep going. Her head fell to his shoulder as she held him, both of them exquisitely close to seeing stars. She reached her climax, panting his name over and over. He held her tight as he found his own release, biting her shoulder.

They remained together, him still inside her for a long moment as the sweat cooled on their bodies and they regained their breath. After a long silence, Jamie ran a hand through her hair. “I’m thinking the kitchen table could be next.”

Claire burst out laughing, her head falling back against his shoulder. “Maybe not where we eat.”

“Oh, well if ye want us to jus’ eat there, then I think I have a good idea,” he said with a smug grin and an attempt at a wink.

Breathing out a laugh, Claire leaned in to kiss him quickly. “You’re too much, James Fraser.”

He chuckled, kissing her again. “Aye, perhaps. But ye love me.”

She smiled down at him. “You know I do.”

~~~

Claire was up and out early on Monday morning, needing to make it to the hospital before rounds. Jamie had just staggered into the room as she grabbed her bag to leave. “Leaving already?” he asked through a yawn.

“Unfortunately,” she said. “But I made coffee.”

Jamie smiled. “Ye’re the best.”

She walked over and kissed him quickly before walking to the door. “I’ll see you later.”

“Hey!” Jamie called, an excited look on his face. She turned back to look at him. “I’ll see ye when ye get home.”

Claire smiled as wide as he was. She walked back over to him, wrapping an arm around his neck. “I love that.” She leaned in and kissed him again, lingering a bit this time. “I can’t wait,” she whispered. “Have a good day!” she said as she walked back to leave.

“And ye, mo nighean donn. I love ye.”

“Love you too!” she yelled just before the door closed.

Jamie walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee, surveying the amount of boxes to unpack. He’d taken the day off to get a bit of unpacking done. In truth, he could have slept in, but he’d heard Claire up and about and he’d wanted to see her before she left. It was an exciting feeling to know that when Claire came home it would be to him.

He’d had a productive day of unpacking while Claire had been at work. There was every chance that when she came home, she’d want to rearrange things, but he didn’t mind. His sense of accomplishment was still in place. Jamie decided to start cooking dinner so that it would be ready when she got home. As he moved around her kitchen with complete comfort, he really noted that moving in together had more or less happened months ago, just minus his stuff. He’d already made her dinner in her own kitchen so many times that he knew where she kept everything.

Claire strolled in, throwing her bag down in front of the island and moving to wrap her arms around him while he stood at the stove. She planted a kiss on the side of his neck in greeting. “Hello, love,” she said, hugging him tighter.

He laid a hand on her arm as he craned his neck to look back at her. “Hello. How was yer day?”

She kissed his shoulder before she released him, perching herself on the island. “It was alright. I had a couple of surgeries but they went well.” She looked around the flat. “Looks like you got a lot done today.”

“Aye, that I did.” He turned around with a proud smile. “Oh also, I spoke to John today and I invited him and Hector over for dinner on Saturday.”

“Why?”

Jamie looked back at her, confused. “Why no’?”

“Well it’s just that you realize they’re going to have to go on dates just the two of them at some point, right?” she asked. “I mean, we all love Hector and I’m sure that’s great for John to know, but they spend more time with us as a group than I feel like they do just the two of them. They kind of need to date just the two of them as well.”

“It’s no’ like we did that,” he reminded her.

“That’s completely different! We knew each other,” she countered. “They still need to get to that point.”

“Well from the way John talked, it seems like they do spend a good amount of time together,” Jamie added.

“That’s good to know. They’ve spent at least a few nights with our group in the last month and a half,” Claire recalled. She stiffened as she remembered the times they’d seen John. There was something linking all of the times. “Jamie, how many times would you say we’ve seen John since his attack?”

“Aside from when we moved him in this past weekend?” Jamie thought on it. “I suppose two or three times. There was the night that you, me, John, Hector, and Louise hung out at her place. The night you had the group over here. He missed the night we went to that pub with the weird drinks that Geillis wanted to try. I had lunch wi’ him at my old flat while I had him sign some paperwork.” He stared at Claire. “Why?”

“Because all the times we’ve seen him have been at someone’s home,” Claire realized.

Jamie turned around and watched her. “He’s allowed to be reluctant to go out, Sassenach.”

Claire took a deep breath. “No, I know he is. Who wouldn’t be? I’m just worried about him.”

“Let him be,” Jamie advised.

“Why? Wouldn’t it be better to let him know that he has people in his corner?”

Jamie shook his head as he turned back to keep cooking. “He kens he has people in his corner. He saw the amount of people crowding his hospital room. Just let him heal at his own speed. If he’s no’ yet ready to go out, dinna push him.”

“I never said I was going to push him,” Claire insisted.

“No, but I ken yer ways,” Jamie said. “Were ye or were ye no’ the woman who drove me down the road I had my accident?” He raised his brow at her.

Claire rolled her eyes. “It had been like seven years, Jamie! I’m not about to push John back out after a month and a half.”

“I ken ye wouldna do that. But just go easy wi’ him. I ken it’s no’ the same thing, but after my accident, I didna even want to be in a car. And that was me crashing my own car. I canna imagine the terror of thinking someone else could be out there wanting to hurt ye again when ye were doing nothing but going about yer own life.” Jamie brought the pan over to the island and scooped their dinner onto plates. “Just wait, alright?”

“Are you saying your sister didn’t push you to get back in a car?” Claire asked, unable to let it go.

“Of course she did,” Jamie confirmed. “But I hated it and often wouldna speak to her afterward. Is that what ye want to happen wi’ John?” Claire sighed. He looked at her, quite obvious that he knew he made his point. “Now, dinner?”

She rolled her eyes and jumped down from the island, taking a plate from him. He was right on several points, but Claire couldn’t just let things be. She was worried about John and it was just in her nature to try to fix things. The timing of her chat with him would have to be just right. And after her conversation with Jamie, she realized it would have to be a secret too.

~~~

Claire showed up at John’s flat, despite Jamie’s voice in the back of her head. There was no crime in checking in on a friend. And there was definitely no way she was just going to forget her concerns. She knocked on the door and waited for an answer.

“Claire!” John greeted with a smile. Even though Claire knew Jamie didn’t live there anymore, it was still odd to see John opening Jamie’s door.

“Hey!”

“What brings you by?” John asked, ushering her inside.

“Just wanted to pop by,” she lied. “I got off work a bit early and thought I’d see if you were here or wanted to get dinner.”

His brow furrowed as he glanced over to the kitchen. “I might have food. I could try to make us something,” he offered.

Claire narrowed her eyes. “Or we could just go out. My treat!”

John’s lips formed a thin line as he looked at her with a tense expression. “That’s okay, I appreciate the offer. I really shouldn’t eat out. With all the food you all brought me in the last month or so, I’ve definitely put on weight.”

Claire rolled her eyes at him. “You’re still a string bean.”

“Nevertheless,” he said with a wave of his hand, “I can’t.”

Claire swallowed past the lump in her throat. “John, can I ask you something?” He nodded for her to ask. “When was the last time you left the flat?”

He looked at her with a confused expression. “I went to work today. I actually just got home an hour ago.”

“Sure, you go to work,” Claire agreed, “but other than that, when was the last time you left?”

“I just moved in, Claire. I have plenty to be doing around here,” he said, gesturing to the boxes still in corners.

“No, I know. Believe me. Jamie took Monday off so he could unpack some and he still has boxes everywhere,” Claire told him. “I don’t get how a man who is so lowkey has so much stuff. God, I’m getting off track.” She paused and shook her head, reminding herself of her mission. “John, I’m just a bit worried about you. That’s all. When was the last time you went to a restaurant or a bar or something?”

John’s expression hardened. “People go months without going to bars, Claire.”

“Yeah, but you never did. You had an active social life,” she reminded him.

“Claire, I was attacked!” he yelled. He pulled back and calmed himself some. Swallowing harshly, he looked back at her. “I’m allowed to want to stay in my home and not leave. I’m allowed to be wary of what could be waiting for me out there.”

“I never said you weren’t,” she said kindly, moving closer to him. “I just don’t want you to lose the things that make you happy because you’re afraid. I don’t want you to isolate yourself.”

“I’m not. I still go to work. I have seen you and Jamie and Louise. I saw the rest of the group a few weeks ago. Hector comes over a lot and we hang out here. Do you want me to talk about my blooming relationship with Hector?” he asked, clearly trying to change the subject.

“That’s low. You know I would love to hear all about that,” Claire said, narrowing her eyes at him. “But not now. I’m still worried about you.”

John sighed and threw himself down on his couch. “Claire, please just let it go.”

“I can’t,” she maintained. “Not when I’m worried my friend might be hurting.” She sat down next to him, looking over and trying to catch his gaze. “Have you talked to anyone about it?”

“Of course I have,” John insisted. “I talked to you, Jamie, Hector. I’ve talked about it plenty.”

“Okay, what about a professional?” John glared at her. “Look, I have never been through something like this. I truly have no idea how I would react. I’m sure I would also try not to leave the house more than I needed to. But that’s not a healthy reaction. Eventually, you need to get back to your life. And Jamie, Hector, and I can’t possibly give you the right advice since we haven’t had these experiences.”

“I just don’t think I can,” John said quietly. “I don’t know that I’m ready to talk about it that deeply yet.”

Claire nodded, unsure of what to say.

“But I suppose you’re right, I don’t want to lose the life I had before the attack,” John admitted. “I just am really not ready to go to bars again. I want to spend time with the group, I just can’t.”

Claire was about to reply when a knock at the door cut her off. “Oh I’m sorry, were you expecting someone?” She grinned. “Hector, maybe?”

John laughed and shook his head. “No, tonight I’ve gotten two surprise visitors apparently.” He opened up the door to see Jamie standing on the other side. “Jamie, what brings you by? Although, I’m betting I already know the answer.” He turned to look back at Claire, noticing how she was straining to not be seen from the door.

“Claire isna home yet so I thought I’d drop by and see how ye were doing,” Jamie said, stepping inside the flat. Claire didn’t hide well enough and he spotted her quickly. “Seriously? What happened to dropping it?”

“Oh come on, you knew I wasn’t really going to do that!” Claire retorted.

“Aye, I did. I came here partially to see if ye were here,” Jamie confessed.

“So you’re not really here to see how I’m doing?” John asked, a fake look of hurt on his face. Jamie started to splutter a response before John grinned.

“I really do want to ken how ye’re doing as well. But I had a sneaking suspicion that Claire’s “errand” was actually coming here,” Jamie said, shaking his head at her in disapproval.

She shrugged. “I’m not upset by your disappointment. I was doing what I thought was best for my friend.”

Jamie looked from her to John. “Tell me, John, how has this conversation been going?”

“Please don’t put me in the middle of this,” John pleaded. “Think of your child!” he teased. He managed to get a laugh out of both of them. “Look, I know Claire was well intentioned and just wants the best for me. So I suppose it hasn’t been that bad. She came off a bit harsh at first, but I can see her points.” John looked over at Claire. “But I meant what I said too. I’m not quite ready for therapy yet or something like that. It’s still too much. I don’t think I could get through talking it out.”

Claire nodded, standing up and walking toward him. “Then you don’t have to. Just think about it. And we will make sure that you still stay part of the group too,” she added.

“How?”

Claire looked between the two men. “I’m sure we can think of something to do. If you recall the group in your hospital room, you’ll know that we don’t have to always be at a bar to hang out. Maybe we can start spending time at each other’s homes. We can still drink just as heavily. Only one of us won’t have to find a cab,” she said with a grin.

Jamie nodded in approval. “I think that could work.” He clapped his hand on John’s shoulder. “Ye’ve been part of this group long enough that we’d like to keep having ye around.”

“Yeah, and if anyone has a problem with it, it’ll be Angus and we can easily guilt him into agreeing,” Claire decided. “I’ll talk to them.”

“Don’t make it all about me and my trauma, please,” John asked in a small voice.

Claire met his gaze and nodded with sympathy. “Of course not.”

They stood there for a moment silently. John pulled out his phone and read something on it. He cleared his throat, looking up at them. “Anyway, you two should get home. I appreciate you both stopping in to check on me.”

Jamie smirked. “Hector coming over?” he asked, pointing to John’s phone.

“Yes, actually,” John laughed. “He just texted.”

“Oh great!” Claire said. “Then we’ll get out of your hair.”

“I’ll see you in two days, right?” John asked. “Dinner for the four of us?”

“Aye, that’s still on,” Jamie agreed.

“Good,” John said with a nod. “Hector and I were looking forward to it.” He walked to the door and more or less hurried them out. “Bye guys, I’ll see you later!”

Once the door was closed, Jamie and Claire couldn’t help but laugh. “He seemed eager for us to leave,” Claire commented.

“Did ye hear what he said? He said they’re looking forward to dinner wi’ us. And ye made fun of me,” Jamie reminded her, shaking his head.

They walked down the stairs and out into the night as they headed toward the underground.

Claire grabbed ahold of Jamie’s hand. “Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t listen to what you said. I know you had John’s interest in mind when you asked me not to come here.”

Jamie squeezed her hand in his as he looked over at her. “Sassenach, I ken ye’d come here. Tis no’ like ye to just drop something when ye think ye’ll be helping yer friend. But...that’s one of the things I’ve always loved about ye. Ye have a big heart and ye just want to take care of people. Tis what makes ye a great doctor.” He pulled her hand up and placed a kiss the back of it. “And tis also what makes ye a wonderful girlfriend.”

Claire felt very touched by his response. She leaned in and laid her head on his shoulder as they kept walking. “Well, I appreciate you saying that.”

~~~

Claire and Jamie were sitting in the courtyard at the hospital, enjoying a lunch together when Geillis spotted them. She walked up and stood in front of their bench, staring at them for a long moment.

“Can we help ye?” Jamie joked, taking a drink.

“Let me get this straight, ye live together and yet Jamie still comes here so ye can have lunch together?” Geillis asked, her head slightly tilted as she watched them.

“Yes. Is something wrong with that?” Claire asked.

“No,” Geillis admitted. “I guess I’m just surprised that ye want to spend that much time together. When he leaves here ye’ll still see each other in a few hours.”

“If we’re living together and have the intent to be together for the rest of our lives...” Claire started, looking over at Jamie. He nodded in agreement, a grin on his face. “...then surely it’s important that we want to spend time with each other.”

“Alright, I’ll give ye that,” Geillis conceded. “Anyway, I’m glad I ran into ye both. I had a thought I wanted to run by ye.”

“What’s up?” Claire asked.

“It’s about John,” Geillis began. “I’m worried he’s no’ going to want to come out wi’ us anymore after what happened. I mean the one time we’ve all gone out to an actual bar since then he didna come.”

“Funny you should mention that,” Claire started to say before Geillis kept speaking.

“So I was thinking perhaps we didna have to go out. We could stay in. We’d have just as grand a time, I’d think. It’s no’ like we do all that much at bars other than drink and gab and we could do that jus’ as easily at someone’s home. And then he might feel more comfortable. What do ye think?”

Jamie and Claire exchanged a look, both of them fighting grins. “I think that’s a great idea, Geil,” she said, deciding to let Geillis believe she’d come up with the plan if the group went forward with it. “I’m sure John would really appreciate the thoughtfulness behind that idea.”

“Well then I can suggest it first,” she replied. “I’ll text the others and let them know the plan. And then I’ll text the group and suggest it like it’s a fresh idea,” she informed with a wink.

Jamie laughed. “Sounds like a braw plan, Geillis. Good thinking.”

She turned to go but turned back, her eyes narrowed on them. “Did ye have breakfast together before ye went to work?”

Jamie and Claire looked at each other before looking back at their friend. “Yes,” Claire replied.

“And now ye’re having lunch together.”

“Obviously,” Jamie said.

“And then ye’ll go home and ye’ll have dinner together as well,” Geillis pointed out.

“That is how it usually works,” Claire responded with a smirk.

“Hmmm,” was all Geillis said in reply. “Anyway, ye enjoy yer lunch. I’ll see ye later.”

“Bye,” they called together.

Claire turned to look at Jamie, a frown on her face. “I think it’s nice that we enjoy each other’s company so much.”

Jamie shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her forehead. “I do too. Geillis is the weird one.”

“Well that’s always been the case,” Claire agreed with a laugh as they settled back in for the rest of their lunch.

~~~

Geillis’s plan had gone well and getting the group on board had been easy. The others had seen the importance of changing their venues a bit for John’s sake, though none of them ever said anything to him about it. Much like the plan they’d been about to make for John with a cycle of whose house he should spend nights at, they also rotated who hosted the group when they were getting together. Things had felt the same but seeing John feel comfortable had made everyone relax more.

After the big events near the start of the year, life had finally calmed down and settled into a routine. It took a simple text from Jamie telling Claire that he’d picked up their dry cleaning for her to take note of the changes in her life. And the biggest and best change was how happy she was. She’d been happy as long as they’d been together, but living together had upped the ante.

Before they’d moved in together, they still spent most nights together, but now there was no question. If Claire wasn’t at the hospital, she was able to be spending time with the man she loved. Intertwining their lives even more had gone more smoothly than she’d ever expected. Both of them were just truly happy to be with the other and it made everything else easier. Claire just went about her life, knowing it was the best it had ever been.

She had no way of knowing the other shoe would drop soon.

It was mid-April and Claire had just walked into the staff room at the end of the day to get her things when she heard a knock at the door. Turning around, she saw Jamie standing in the doorway with an odd look on his face.

“Hey!” she greeted, quickly grabbing her things. “What are you doing here? I thought I told you I had a normal shift.”

“Aye, ye did,” Jamie confirmed, “but I just needed to see ye.” His face fell slightly as he said it.

Claire steeled herself for whatever news he was going to drop. It wasn’t like Jamie to stop by the hospital without any warning, and certainly not when they were about to be home soon. Claire threw her bag over her shoulder and walked towards him. “Jamie, what’s wrong?” She reached out and ran a hand along his cheek. “Is everything okay?”

Jamie sighed out a ragged breath. “I dinna ken.”

She wrapped her arms around his waist, trying her best to comfort him even if she didn’t know what was bothering him. “What is this about? Are Jenny and the kids okay?”

“Aye, they’re fine.” He took a deep breath, his body tense. “Do ye recall that offer Dougal made me at Hogmanay?”

Claire drew back, horror no doubt showing on her face. She’d forgotten it. In their full reconciliation and John’s attack and moving in together, she’d truly blocked out that whole part of the holidays. Her breath came short as she waited for Jamie to continue. She gave him a small nod, urging him to continue.

“Let’s go get a drink,” Jamie suggested.

Claire grabbed ahold of the front of his shirt. “Jamie Fraser, don’t you dare take another step before you tell me why you brought that up. You better tell me right now if you’ve been transferred. I can’t wait until we get to some bar.”

Jamie flashed her a small smile despite himself. He reached up and cupped her face in his hands. “I havena been transferred. Yet.”

She felt relief and despair at the same time. It was no doubt the way Jamie was feeling as well. He wasn’t gone yet, but there was still a chance it could happen. Life had been too good, so naturally this wrench had to be thrown. “Yeah, let’s go get a drink,” she agreed, lacing her fingers through his as she led him from the hospital.

They were seated in a corner table at a quiet pub not far from the hospital, both of them with a drink in hand. “Okay, tell me what happened. What’s got you so shaken?”

Jamie sighed, choosing to take a deep drink of his beer. “Alright, so ye recall that Dougal said they’re expanding to New York.”

“Of course.”

“So they’ve apparently gotten far enough in that endeavor that they’re starting to staff that office,” Jamie explained.

“And do you think they’re going to send you there even though you said no?” Claire pressed.

“I canna decide if that’s the endgame or if they’re going to make me suffer at my current position until I ask to be moved there,” Jamie revealed. Claire furrowed her brow as she took a drink of her own beer. Jamie continued explaining. “So a memo went out today saying that staffing changes were being made to accommodate the new office in America and that they wanted experienced people running that office so that it could be successful. Essentially, they’re slowly shutting down the marketing department here in London. They’re making a UK marketing team and a US marketing team. After the memo went out, most of the people in my department were handed new orders from people above me.”

“But you didn’t get one?” Claire asked, triple checking.

“No, but I’m sure it’s coming. Unless, like I said, they just want me to be so miserable that when they give me the offeragain, I’m sure to take it.” Jamie shook his head, glaring down into his drink. “But there’s always the chance they’ll just transfer me anyway. There are three of us left in my department including me. Most of the people were sent to New York though others were sent back up to Scotland to help coordinate the UK office.” He took a deep breath, looking up at Claire with a helpless expression. “I just dinna ken what’s coming and it scares the hell out of me.”

It scared the hell out of her too. She’d been distrusting of Dougal Mackenzie since the moment she officially met him in Rupert’s kitchen over a year ago. The slimy man seemed like he would do anything to benefit himself. It started as a family company, but Claire had her assumptions that the Mackenzie brothers did not share the same values that other small companies might. She had no doubt that if they needed Jamie somewhere else, they’d disregard anything he said and send him there, no matter the fact that he was their nephew. What would their options be then? They’d just moved in together. She couldn’t lose him to New York.

Claire sighed deeply, reaching out to grab Jamie’s hand. The last thing he needed on top of all this was her fears. “It’ll be okay,” she said, hoping her voice sounded stronger to him than it did to her own ears.

Jamie laid his hand over hers, looking down at them as he shook his head. “Will it though? What if they do end up transferring me, mo nighean donn?”

Claire shook her head as she shrugged. “Well then we go to New York. We can find some nice apartment we can’t really afford and we’ll see some Broadway shows that you’ll hate and we’ll make it work.”

Jamie stared at her for a long moment, his hands tightening on hers. “We?” he asked, his voice small.

Claire flashed him a smile. “Yes, we.”

Jamie closed his eyes. She swore she saw a smile on his face before it quickly disappeared. “I canna ask ye to do that, Claire. Ye just moved back here. Ye have a contract at the hospital and ye’re only a year into it. Ye canna just up and move back to the other side of the pond.”

“Well you’re not really asking. I volunteered,” she reminded him. “And I can do whatever the hell I bloody well please. Yes, I’d have to break my contract at the hospital, but it would be okay.” Jamie started to disagree but she tightened her hold on him as she leaned forward. “I can find a new job, Jamie, one I’ll easily like as much as this one. But I’m not going to find another you.” He stared at her with a look of awe and disbelief. “I love you, Jamie Fraser, and I’m not letting you move across the world without me. If you go, I go. That’s all there is to it.”

She swore she saw tears brimming in his eyes as he picked up her hand and laid a kiss on it. “I dinna ken what I’d do wi’out ye. I love ye so much, Sassenach.”

Claire smiled, wishing they’d gotten a bigger table so she could move around to his side. “You really think I’d let you go there on your own?”

“I wouldna blame ye if ye did,” Jamie admitted. “I dinna want to go, so why should ye have to?”

“Because I can’t bloody well do without you,” Claire promised him.

Jamie shook his head as he gazed at her. “I canna say what I ever did right in my life to earn ye.”

Claire laughed out loud, leaning her head back. “Some prize you’ve got.”

He looked at her with an earnest expression, “Yeah, actually it is.” He held her gaze for a long moment before looking down at their hands. “Thank ye for saying all ye did, Sassenach.” He looked to her once more. “It makes the future seem a bit less scary. I still dinna want to move, but knowing I wouldna be losing ye in it all makes it seem more manageable.”

“You won’t lose me,” she assured. “And we’ll figure out the rest as it comes. It’s the best we can do, right?”

Jamie grinned at her. “You and me against the world, aye?”

Claire nodded in agreement, raising her glass to him. “Just the way it should be.”

Next chapter

#Outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #my writing #if after all these years you'd like to meet

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padfootagain · 5 years ago

Text

Welcome To Hell (III)

Part 3 : The Appointment

I'm coming back with a new chapter for this series for Logan! I haven't updated it in ages, but I still like this AU.

I hope you all like this. It's the last fic for my 3.6k followers event!! I do hope you've enjoyed the event and the stories I have written for it.

Gif not mine

Word Count : 1951

There is an hour, right before dusk, when San Francisco and its bay are particularly quiet. People are still lost in a deep slumber, cars have quietened and no honks ring through the city. In the harbour and through the bay, the boats have stopped their engines, and even the sails are folded to rest. The sky, though still dark, is slowly becoming a little more luminous, the stars disappearing as the ink turns into greyish shades. This moment is undoubtedly the favourite for demons and angels to relax and meet up.

After all, they are similar creatures, who merely have lived different lives before their deaths, that drove them towards the side of light or darkness. But they are similar in more ways than they are different, and thus, they get along very well. After all, both demons and angels – or at least the agents that meet up at this hour of the night – are struggling with their jobs and to keep their status. Which means they are struggling not to be destroyed forever. Or well, that was the case for demons, angels merely got to no longer be able to visit Earth and instead of being burnt for eternity, got to drink pina colladas for the rest of time while watching constellations move through the nothingness of space. It was much less dramatic a fate indeed.

There is a bar on Broadway, in the Financial District, right at the corner leading to the bay and the embarcadero. It had once been made of wood, then rebuilt a couple of times when after being destroyed by earthquakes or simply to fit better in the district as the building materials changed. It was now made of red bricks. No one in town could actually decide on a date to fix the opening of the Grey Wings. Some historians place it right at the foundation of the city, others after the Second World War. If there is one thing they all agree on though is that it is a perfectly regular establishment that probably does not deserve its extreme longevity. But they come to this conclusion solely because they don't know about the second floor.

On the second floor of the Grey Wings, there is a second bar, that only angelic and demonic creatures have access to. The door to the staircase leading upstairs can only appear to creatures who have died, thus ensuring that only angels and demons have access, as all know that the zombies and other ridiculous creatures of the kind are not real.

Logan was one of the customers at the Grey Wings that night, like most nights since his assignment to San Francisco, actually. He was emptying his third glass of whiskey when a middle-aged woman came to sit next to him.

"Are my eyes deceiving me? Are you drinking alone?" Martha asked him with a playful smile, ordering a glass of whiskey as well to the impassable barman.

"So… you've learnt about my mission, huh?"

"Why do you say that?"

"I know I'm not your type."

Martha couldn't refrain a laugh.

"I know you're targeting Y/N Y/L/N, yes. But I can hardly see why though. She's one of the good ones. You don't stand a chance."

"That's what you think."

"Do you really have to do this one? I mean… there is no point in wasting both our time on people who are so fully on one side of the balance."

"I wouldn't be so confident if I were you. I'm going to make her turn."

"You will not, Logan. Don't be stupid."

"I'm going to destroy her world, and she'll be so desperate, she will be ready to do anything to get it back."

She rolled her eyes.

"Right, I guess we're doing this then."

"So… you'll be the one I have to fight against for the soul of a mortal…"

"You make it sound way more dramatic than it is. I didn't see your colleague though. Two against one is hardly a fair fight."

"Since when demons are supposed to play fair?"

"You have a point."

"Besides, Natasha is just a pun, I'm the one who will do most of the work."

"You know, one day, playing with the heart of people is going to get you into trouble."

"Only the good kind I hope."

"The kind that will break your heart too one day. One day, it'll backfire, and you'll be the heartbroken one."

"Don't you know, Martha? The heart is torn out of demons' chest when they're recruited. Hard to break something that isn't there."

She shook her head, taking her drink with her as she began to move away.

"We don't love with the pomp in our chest, Logan. We love with our brains, no matter what people say. And you still have a brain, don't you?"

Logan didn't reply. Out of habit, he ran his hand across his shirt, tracing the long scar that coloured his chest under the soft fabric. He barely noticed the absence of a beating in his ribcage these days. Only when he focused on what he should be feeling did he notice that there was nothing in his chest to feel. He drank up another gulp of whiskey.

Angels were ridiculous sometimes. Like all demons, Logan had lost his ability to love a long time ago, and the absence of a beating heart in his chest, well… it was a way for his boss to always remind him he was not human anymore.

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

You were getting ready for your appointment with Natasha about her wedding. Ahlem was rearranging the roses on one side of the shop, while you waited for the couple to arrive. You loved taking care of weddings. They oozed happiness and there was nothing quite like the thought of participating in making such a happy day for two people even better.

The sun was hot and bright on California that day, but a fresh breeze was climbing up the busy streets of San Francisco to bring a little bit of salty scent up from the sea. A truck selling ice-creams passed before your shop. You smiled, it was a good day.

Natasha finally arrived, opening the door with a smile, her eyes hidden behind her pair of Ray-bans. And you welcomed her with a warm smile…

… until you recognized the man behind her.

"Hello, Y/N."

You couldn't hide the shock on your face as you recognized Paul stepping in your shop.

It couldn't be happening… very obviously, you were dreaming, or had been drugged, or had hit your head at one point and were now hallucinating…

Your ex-fiancé could not be coming to your shop to prepare his wedding with another… that… that couldn't be happening to you…

"Paul told me you knew each other well, it was obvious we had to come to you for our wedding," Natasha grinned a toothy smile.

"Yeah… we… do know each other very well," you slowly nodded. "Did he tell you how we met?"

"Oh, you mean… that you're his ex? Of course, he did! But it doesn't matter. I know it's important for him to close this chapter of his life."

Paul and Natasha exchanged a smile that made you feel a little sick. It was too sweet to be true.

"She really understands how I feel. She understands me so well," he added, with a look towards you that seemed a little accusatory.

You chose to ignore his behaviour.

"Well, I hope I can help you with your happy project," you replied with a neutral tone.

You let them sit down around the counter and started to talk about their wedding.

Wedding… your ex… after two months of relationship…

The two of you had broken up three months before and he had spent a month begging you to give him a second chance and make your life hell when you said no. And then one day it had stopped. Now, you knew why he had suddenly disappeared.

"So… do you have any ideas already? Where are you getting married?"

"Oh, we would like some white flowers. Roses, and also lilies," Natasha answered. "Nothing too extraordinary, but elegant and simple, you see."

"Sure," you nodded, taking notes. "Anything else?"

"We're getting married in three weeks, is that a problem for you?"

"No, not at all."

Natasha continued to describe the flowers she wanted. And what started with a couple of simple flowers ended up with a complicated description of a lot of bouquets. You reckoned that it would require a lot of work from you. A few sleepless nights awaited ahead.

You thought all had been said, and Natasha stood up to leave, but Paul asked for a moment alone with you. And Natasha didn't protest at all. On the contrary, she thanked you again and left the shop to wait outside. Your colleague was out of the room as well, you weren't sure if she was in the backroom or outside though.

"I meant to tell you about it myself, that's why I came to the shop the other day," Paul explained.

"Ahlem told me you came."

"You didn't call me back or anything."

"I didn't think it would do us any good."

"We don't have to be enemies."

"We're not. Not to me. But after what happened when we broke up, I can't imagine we can be friends either."

Paul looked down at his feet, before watching you carefully again. He seemed to be looking for the right words for a moment, and when he spoke again, he wore a soft voice.

"No, no, I guess we can't be just friends."

"I'm glad you've found someone else though. She seems nice."

Before you could push him away, he was reaching for your hands.

"Y/N… It doesn't have to be that way. We could still change it all…"

You snatched your hands away, taking a step back and shaking your head.

"Paul, don't be stupid. Don't say things like that."

"Don't tell me you didn't feel anything when you saw me walking in with her. I saw the look on your face."

"I was surprised, that's all! And I'm pretty sure you can understand why! Wouldn't you be shocked if you learnt I was engaged just three months after we broke up?!"

A thought formed in your mind, and you narrowed your eyes at him.

"You didn't get engaged and come here just in attempt for us to get back together, did you? To make me jealous or something."

"Of course not!" Paul defended himself, but you were not fully convinced. "Natasha is amazing."

"Then, how could you offer me something like this?"

"She's not you."

"Why are you marrying her then?"

"Apparently, I can't have you."

You heaved a sigh.

"You can't say things like that, Paul. It doesn't work between us."

"Because you didn't want to make it work. But we can both make some changes and it'll work."

"I don't want to make changes in my life, Paul. I love it."

"We could try…"

"No, we can't. I've told you, many times already."

"So, you don't care about that fact that I'm getting married to someone else?"

You chose to not reply. It was useless. He wouldn't listen to you anyway.

"Paul, you should go now."

He slowly nodded, his jaw clenched, and something in his eyes told you that if he yielded for now, to him the conversation was far from over. He left anyway, and you saw him and Natasha walk away from the shop hand in hand. You let yourself fall back on your stool.

What the hell was happening in your life right now?

******************************************************

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@geeksareunique @giggleberts @sad-orange-thoughts @benbarnes-world @ladyblablabla @madamrogers @drinix @joelynnp @mxrihollxnd @rockintensse @newtstarmander

@whovianayesha @raquelbc2003 @millionsleeplessnights

#Logan #logan delos #logan delos x reader #logan delos fanfiction #logan delos imagine #logan x reader #westworld #westworld imagine #imagine #fanfiction #fanfic #writing

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white-rose-week · 5 years ago

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White Rose Week 2019: That Day on the Airship - Chapter 5

Audience Prompt: Ball/Dancing

Admin Prompt: Loss

(Also available on FF and AO3)

One photo became a half dozen.

“These turned out great! I had no idea you were so good at taking selfies.” Ruby said over her partner’s shoulder as they viewed their results.

“It’s all in the camera angle, and it helps when a really pretty girl with dark hair and silver eyes is in the frame.”

Weiss finished setting her favorite photo as her scroll’s background and rearranged several of the icons on her home screen so they framed the cheerful faces in the image. She was about to shut off the device, but stopped short when her eyes landed on an icon with music notes. “Hey, Ruby?” One of her hands floated upward and pinched a bit of her snowy hair as she turned to her partner. “Could I interest you in a dance?” She quickly glanced down and then up again as her cheeks took on a light shade of pink.

“Huh?” Ruby tilted her head slightly. “Dance?”

“Sorry. I know it’s an odd thing to ask out of the blue.” She twirled the bit of hair around her finger, looking sheepish. “This will probably sound weird, but I’ve wanted to dance with you for ages…”

“I don’t think that’d be a very good idea. I’m just not much of a fancy pants-y dance-y girl.”

“Ruby, I’ve seen you do multiple midair flips, maintain balance in close combat with the asymmetrically-weighted Crescent Rose, and you have no trouble navigating yourself when you use your semblance to spin around at absurd speeds. I’m confident that you can handle shuffling your feet back and forth. Plus, I’ll be able to help you.”

“But that’s fighting. Dancing is completely different. It has beats and rules and I always feel awkward when I try…”

Weiss slid a hand into Ruby’s and gently pressed their foreheads together. “Would you be willing to try it one more time? Please?” Her tone was gentle and encouraging.

Ruby let out a small whine as her face became the same color as her cloak. “That’s not fair. How am I supposed to say no when you’re being cute and flirty like that?”

Weiss nuzzled her nose against Ruby’s. “For what it’s worth, I’m going to have the exact same problem whenever you try to do this to me. Don’t worry, it’s just us in here.” She stepped towards the nearby countertop and opened her scroll’s music app before placing it beside her empty coffee mug. “I made a dance music playlist a while back, it’s been ages since I listened to it though.” Weiss rejoined Ruby as an orchestral melody began filling the small room. She carefully moved one of Ruby’s hands to her waist and began moving her feet with the steady tempo.

Ruby instinctively stared at the ground, making sure her feet matched the clearly more experienced pair across from her. Weiss simply smiled and watched the crown of her girlfriend’s head. “This is a waltz. All you need to do is think in sets of three. One, two, three. One, two three…”

Weiss kept them relatively stationary, allowing Ruby to familiarize herself with the movements. “There you go. Now keep moving your feet with that rhythm, but while looking at me.” Ruby’s eyes drifted upward to see Weiss glowing with pride and delight. “There you go. Just follow my lead.”

Once Ruby nodded in acknowledgement, Weiss began to shift her weight, subtly pushing and pulling in time with the music. After a few measures, Ruby’s shoulders lowered in relaxation and she became decreasingly aware of her feet’s motions. They glided around the airship’s kitchenette together, allowing themselves to get lost in the music and each other’s eyes.

Ruby spoke quietly, not wanting to overpower the music. “Well, at least I haven’t stepped on your feet yet. Am I doing alright?”

“You’re perfect. I hope this isn’t too miserable for you?”

“It’s not so bad. Maybe I just didn’t have the right dance partner until now.”

Sensing her partner’s growing confidence, Weiss allowed her motions to become slightly more dramatic, occasionally bending Ruby slightly backward and guiding her through a twirl as the music swelled. As Ruby completed her rotation, she leaned in and placed her lips on Weiss’. Their feet slowed to a halt as they kissed, and the music began to fade.

“Thanks for giving it a chance. Any chance I might be able to convince you to dance with me again sometime?” Weiss asked hopefully.

“I’d say your chances are pretty good, that was fun.”

“I think you’d really enjoy Tango. It’s high-energy and—”

They both flinched as their conversation was interrupted by the abrupt start of a new song. Instead of flowing instrumentals, this one featured a poppy beat and a female vocalist.

~~~BABY! IT’S TIME TO MAKE UP YOUR MIIIIIIIIND!~~~

Two pairs of wide eyes met. Ruby’s appeared to be in shock. Weiss’ looked distraught.

Weiss’ shaky, panic-stricken voice barely made it to Ruby over the music.

“I forgot this song was on the playlist.”

~~~I THINK! THAT TONIGHT IS WHEN OUR STARS ALIIIIIIIIGN!~~~

Ruby felt hot tears forming in her eyes and saw that Weiss was experiencing the same thing. She managed to form a few words.

“Turn it off. Please.”

~~~HONEY! IT’S TIME TO LEAVE THE DOUBT BEHIIIIIIIIND!~~~

Weiss bolted over to the counter and fumbled with the scroll, her misty eyes reducing her visibility.

~~~TAKE MY HAND CAUSE YOU AND I ARE GONNA—

The music cut off as suddenly as it had started, leaving only the sound of stifled crying in the air. When Weiss turned to Ruby again, they both had tears streaming down their faces. They hugged each other tightly and began openly weeping.

“I’m so sorry. I forgot that song was there. I haven’t listened to that playlist since Beacon.” Weiss apologized between sobs.

“It’s not your fault. It’s not your fault at all. It’s on my scroll too. I’ve actually tried listening to it a few times, but I still can’t get through it. I can’t hear it without thinking of that night. Of the four of them dancing together. Of Penny in the corner, doing the robot.” Ruby was physically trembling, emotions overwhelming her.

“I’ve made peace with the fact that they’re gone. I’m even at the point where I don’t cry time I think or talk about them. But it still happens a lot, and that caught me off guard. I want to be able to smile when I think of them. I want to think of the amazing times we had together. But it’s so difficult because I miss them so, so much.”

“I know. I do too. It hurts. It hurts every time I think about them.”

They spent several minutes embracing and letting themselves cry, occasionally murmuring words of comfort. When they finally calmed down and pulled away from each other, they wiped their eyes and held hands.

“That dance didn’t end quite how I wanted it to.” Weiss admitted disappointedly. “But at least we were able to cry together. It was certainly better than all the nights I cried alone in my room before I escaped.”

“That didn’t end how I wanted it to either. I guess that means we’ll have to dance together again sometime soon.” Ruby offered, pressing her forehead lightly against Weiss’.

“I guess so. Thank you.” Weiss gently placed a hand on Ruby’s cheek, wiping away the last of her tears before bringing her in for a soft kiss.

“You know, I think they’d be really happy for us.” Ruby said, her natural smile returning to her lips.

“I’m sure they would be.” Weiss said confidently. “So we should shine. For them, and for ourselves.”

A/N: This chapter is being released much later than I’d hoped, not due to writer’s block or laziness, but because the past several days were far busier than expected for me. Since I decided to try my hand at White Rose Week a few hours after the first day started, I wrote my first five fanfiction chapters in a bit more than four days, with nothing prepared in advance. If I do this again next year, I’ll probably writ at least a bit ahead of time so I can have a better chance of being able to reliably post a chapter each day. Regardless, I still have every intention of completing the remaining prompts in the next few days, and I already have basic outlines for all of them. I hope those of you that are reading as chapters are being released will continue to follow me on this journey.

As soon as I read the prompts, I knew exactly what I wanted the major beats of the chapter to be. Ruby and Weiss dancing happily, only to be hit by the emotional freight train that is “Shine”, and to have the chapter’s resolution be one of catharsis. I mostly enjoy writing fluff, but I like the occasional gut punch as well, so long as it ends in a fluffy way, because it makes the sweetness even sweeter. It’s really strange to go back to Volume 2 and see how far the series has come in terms of character development, plot depth, and animation quality.

Thank you to everyone who has read, fave’d/kudo’d, followed/favorited, commented/reviewed. As always, I hope my writing was able to bring you some joy!

#white rose week #white rose #whiterose #rwby #fiction #weiss schnee #ruby rose #submission #day 5 #wrw2019

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cottagethings · 5 years ago

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self-quarantine activities

1. Complete a puzzle: The more pieces the better! Feeling extra saucy? Take on a Rubik's Cube. More of a word person? Crossword puzzle!

2. Start a journal or blog. Sure, it can be about the coronavirus, but it could also be about a specific interest from chess to cheese.

3. If it won't bother your neighbors: Dust off that old instrument and practice.

4. Text all your exes just in case you have one more thing you wanted to get off your chest.

5. Write poetry. Perhaps you can craft a haiku for Mother's Day, or something without a specific structure. Just try it!

6. Watch all the really long movies you’ve avoided until now.

7. Download Duolingo, or a similar app, and teach yourself a foreign language.

8. Finally read “Infinite Jest,” “Les Miserables” or even “The Stand.” Go all in and read “Ulysses.” You got this.

9. Meditate. Try lying down with your eyes closed, palms up and while focusing on your breath. Or spend 20 minutes sitting crosslegged and repeat a soothing word to yourself in your head. (The latter is more like transcendental meditation.)

10. Face masks, moisturizer, oh my! Treat yourself to a 10-step skin care routine you don’t have time for during a normal work week.

11. Look at pictures of puppies.

12. Put together the most attractive charcuterie board possible, but you can only use foods you already have in your fridge and cupboard.

13. Take note from "Tangled" star Rapunzel, who has an entire song about how she's spent her days alone in a castle. Activities included in her ditty: Ventriloquy, candle-making, papier-mâché and adding a new painting to her gallery.

14. Write actual letters to family and friends. After that? Write thank-you notes to service people who you remember went out of their way for you.

15. Learn calligraphy. YouTube can help.

16. Finally read the rules to those long and intense board games you've never played with the family. Encourage the family to play.

17. Put on a soap opera. Mute the sound. Create your own dialogue.

18. Have a space in your home where all of the tupperware goes? Organize it and actually match lids to containers.

19. Try on all your clothes and determine whether they “spark joy” á la Marie Kondo.

20. Better yet, go through this process with your junk drawer and supply shelves.

21. Have a roommate meeting about how to be more considerate of one other, especially while you will likely be spending more time together. Bring baked goods.

22. Bake those goods.

23. Watch the films that won Oscars for best picture.

24. Watch films that won Independent Spirit Awards for best picture.

25. Watch films that critics say should have won those aforementioned awards.

26. Read all the New Yorker issues piled on your desk.

27. Will Tom Hanks into recovery from coronavirus by watching every Tom Hanks movie chronologically.

28. Knit or crochet.

29. Use Skype, FaceTime, Google Hangouts or Marco Polo to video chat with your long-distance friends.

30. Try out at-home aerobics or yoga videos. Consider downloading a fitness app with curated workout playlists.

31. Look at yourself in the mirror. Attempt a self portrait with pencil and paper.

32. Take a bubble bath (bonus: Add a glass of wine).

33. Make a classic cocktail, from negronis to Manhattans and aperol spritzes. Don't forget the garnish.

34. Coloring books: They’re not just for kids.

35. Take time to reflect: What have you accomplished in the last year? What goals are you setting for yourself in the next year?

36. Write a short story or get started on that novel.

37. Actually try to reproduce something you see on Pinterest. Probably fail. Try again.

38. Clear out the family room and camp indoors with all blankets, popcorn and scary movies.

39. Finally get around to fixing that broken door knob and loose tile or cleaning scuffed up walls.

40. Acquire a foam roller and treat yourself to some physical therapy.

41. Pretend you're 13 years old and fold a square piece of paper into a fortune teller you put your thumbs and pointer fingers into. Proceed to tell fortunes.

42. Learn how to braid (fishtail, French, etc.) via YouTube tutorial..

43. Throw out all your too-old makeup and products. (Tip: most liquid products have a small symbol on them noting expirations, usually six months to a year. This includes sunscreen!)

44. Interview your grandparents (over the phone, of course) and save the audio. Can you create an audio story or book with that file?

45. Go through your camera roll, pick your favorite pics from the past year and make a photo book or order framed versions online.

46. Go on a health kick and learn how to cook new recipes with ingredients you may not be using already, from miso to tahini.

47. Create a Google document of shows or movies you’re watching and share it among family and friends.

48. Make a list of things for which you are grateful.

49. Have your own wine tasting of whatever bottles you have at home. Make up stories about the journey of the grapes to your mouth.

50. Work on your financial planning, such as exploring whether to refinance your loan or ways to save more money.

51. Perfect grandma’s bolognese recipe.

52. Make coffee, but this time study how many beans you use, which types, how hot the water is, how long it brews and whether any of that makes a difference.

53. Buy gift cards from your favorite local businesses to help keep them in business while we quarantine.

54. Watch “Frozen 2,’ which went up early on Disney Plus. Another new movie on the streaming service: "Stargirl."

55. Write a book with your family. Pick a character and each member writes a chapter about their adventures. Read aloud to each other.

56. No March Madness? Have a Scrabble tournament. Or Bananagrams. Pictionary, anyone?

57. Get into baking with "The Great British Baking Show," but your technical challenge is baking something with the ingredients you have on hand (that you didn't already use in the charcuterie board).

58. Indoor scavenger hunt.

59. Alternate reading the Harry Potter series with your kids and cap each one off with the movie.

60. Dye your hair a new color. No one else needs to see it if you don't like it.

61. Read Robert Jordan’s 14-book “Wheel of Time” series before it streams on Amazon starring Rosamund Pike.

62. Write a play starring your loved ones. Perform it via a video call app.

63. Go viral in the good way by making a quarantine-themed TikTok.

64. Rearrange your sock drawer. Really.

65. Stop procrastinating and do your income taxes.

66. Make lists of all the museums, sporting events and concerts you want to visit when they finally reopen.

67. Get into comics with digital subscriptions on your tablet, like Marvel Unlimited.

68. Rearrange your furniture to make it seem like your home is a totally different space.

69. Practice shuffling playing cards like a Poker dealer. Be ready for employment opportunities once all casinos open back up.

70. Organize your spice rack alphabetically or get crazy and do it by cuisine.

71. Teach your dog to shake. Hand sanitizer optional.

72. Memorize the periodic table. You never know when that will come in handy.

73. Order and put together some IKEA furniture. Time yourself.

74. Get a free trial of a streaming service and binge-watch as much as you can before it expires.

75. Apply for a new job. You have remote work experience now.

76. Learn a new style of dance via YouTube, from bellydancing to breaking.

77. Update or write your will and organize your affairs. Yes, it sounds melodramatic and morbid but let’s face it: This is a task many of us avoid because we never have the time. Now we do.

78.The parades have been canceled but you can still make corned beef and cabbage for St. Patrick’s Day.

79. Bring out the Legos. Build your house inside of your house.

80. Watch the "Star Wars" movies in this and only this order: Rogue One-IV-V-II-III-Solo-VI-VII-VIII-IX.

81. Two words: Coronavirus beard! Grow it, moisturize it, comb it, love it.

82. Learn the words to "Tung Twista." Get them so ingrained in your brain that you can rap them as fast as Twista can. Impress everyone.

83. Been meaning to get some new glasses? Try on new frames virtually on sites like GlassesUSA.com.

84. Attempt things with your non-dominant hand, from writing to brushing your teeth. Prepare to be frustrated.

85. How many words per minute can you type? See if you can get speedier by taking a typing course.

86. Prepare to verbally duel a bully who wants to discuss the evolution of the market economy in the Southern colonies, by memorizing Matt Damon's "Good Will Hunting" speech.

87. Learn origami. Make cranes for your loved ones.

88. Stretch. Work on your flexibility. It's possible to get the splits back, right?

89. Try to speak in pig Latin. Or, "ig-pay, atin-Lay."

90. Talk to your plants. How are they doing? Make sure they are getting the amount of sunlight they should be. Check their soil. Water if necessary.

91. Deep condition your hair and put paraffin wax on your hands. Enjoy your soft hair and nails.

92. Consider donating money to food banks to help families struggling to get meals.

93. Write a song. If you want to make it about your time inside and put it to the tune of "My Sharona" and replace "Sharona" with "Corona," do what you have to do.

94. Study the art of beatboxing.

95. Try moving in super-slow motion. It's OK to laugh at regular speed.

96. You know how there are dozens of ways to wear a scarf, but you only wear it the one way? Learn the other ways.

97. Learn Old English words. Pepper them into your conversation. Wherefore not?

98. Try on a new shade of lipstick. See how long it takes your partner to notice it.

99. Take deep breaths, in through your nose and out through your mouth.

100. Sleep. Get lots of it.

#corona #coronavirus #quarantine #self care #activity #freetime #dosomethingforyourself

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magicallygrimmwiccan · 6 years ago

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Only Time, Part III

Summary: In which Conversations Are Had, Tears Are Shed, and Nails Are Painted

Notes: Part III of my trade with @dailypattondoodle / @moonfang03. There be crying in this chapter, and some cussing. And ahhh this is so late, but my editor didn’t have Internet for a couple days and then I had to rewrite a whole chunk so ahhhh. Enjoy this pain!

Knock knock. “Logan? Can we talk?” Logan sat up, tears still crusting his cheeks, and he sniffed. Wirt squeezed his shoulder, offering support and comfort. Mika stood smoothly, glancing back at Logan for confirmation about the next course of action. Logan nodded shakily, and with that, Mika strolled to the door and opened it, most likely giving Roman the glare to end all glares.

“Roman. Greetings. Talk about what?” Mika drawled, leaning on the doorframe with arms crossed over xyr chest. Roman gulped, taking in the aggressive mama-bear that was Mika at this exact moment.

“Um… about… you know…” Roman stuttered. Mika sighed and stepped back, opening the door wider in a clear invitation. Roman slipped in and froze upon seeing Logan, tears still streaming down his face, being cuddled by a protectively-angry Wirt. “Hey, Logan. How are you doing?”

Tired, Logan signed. Roman swallowed.

“Good, good. Can… do you want Wirt and Mika here or no?” Logan made the sign for no, and Roman sighed. “Alright.” Wirt and Mika vanished before he could even say anything, something that Roman appreciated. They were good friends to Logan, he knew, and while sometimes his heart hurt because he should have been that good friend to Logan, he was happy his brother had people like that in his life. Roman banished the depressing thoughts and walked over, delicately sitting down on the bed next to Logan. “Do you want to start or should I?”

I can start, Logan signed, limbs shaking. I know it was an accident, but I’m still hurt.

“And you have every right to be. You did absolutely nothing wrong,” Roman soothed, internally punching himself for whatever he did to make Logan think his feelings were all his fault. Logan sniffed and swiped at his cheeks before continuing.

I experienced a moment of panic when you did not show up at our appointed time and place. I can attempt to work on being less sensitive, or- Roman gently grabbed his hands, grip still light so Logan could pull back at any time.

“No, no Star-Nerd you don’t. That was very, very much my fault. You reacted in a perfectly normal way, okay? Please stop telling yourself this is your fault when it really, really isn’t.” Logan nodded, still looking doubtful, and Roman internally sighed before an idea lit up his brain. “You know how the Doctor blames himself for every little thing that goes wrong, even when it’s not his fault?” Another nod. “Well, that’s you right now. Is the Doctor always right?” A shake of the head. “Okay. So why is this your fault at all?”

You have your own life, Logan answered. Roman shook his head and groaned. Had Logan not listened to a word he’d said? Did Logan think himself so unimportant to Roman that he would willingly put his own well-being below Roman’s friends?

“Logan, I swear to Walt Disney, the next time you try and justify why I am more important than your feelings, I will yeet atop you and cuddle you into submission,” Roman announced, glaring at his twin just to prove his point. Logan sniffed a bit before letting out a small giggle, warming Roman’s heart as a large smile stretched across his face in reply. “See, we’re okay, yeah?” Logan tried to pull himself together, but an evil grin crossed Roman’s face as an idea came to mind. He quickly reached out and poked Logan’s ribcage, causing the slightly smaller twin to let out a squeak. Roman’s grin widened as Logan’s eyes widened in horror before Roman launched himself atop Logan, ignoring the squeals as he set to mercilessly tickling Logan into submission.

“I told you I’d do this!” Roman crowed as happy tears began to stream down Logan’s cheeks. Logan tried to weakly bat Roman’s hands away, but Roman kept going, determined to quash his brother’s negative emotions to the point where they could never resurface. Okay, maybe tickling was not the best way to go about it, but it was the best idea he could think of on such short notice!

Roman stop I get it! Logan signed, out of breath. Roman grinned and shuffled back, giving Logan plenty of time and space to compose himself. He did eventually, sitting up and shooting a beaming smile in Roman’s general direction.

“Feeling better?” Roman asked, and with that, Logan’s smile dropped again. Roman cursed his stupidity and shuffled closer to wrap Logan in a comforting hug.

I… a bit. I am still concerned? But I am mostly alright, thank you Roman. Roman shook his head stubbornly.

“No, no, you should not be thanking me. I’m the one who caused this, and as such, I need to fix it. Okay? What do you need right now, Logan?” Logan bit his lip as he thought, and Roman sat back on his heels, willing to wait as long as he needed to for Logan to answer.

Perhaps time dedicated just to us? Not right now, necessarily, if you don’t want to, just in the future. Roman nodded, already planning a movie and spa night that would begin the second this conversation ended. And then… lunch meetings?

“Done and done. Anything else? I promise I will try to do it,” Roman answered, mentally rearranging his week to make two lunch meetings with Logan a week. He could only think of one person who would complain, and honestly, Clair could suck it up if it was that big of an issue for them. Logan bit his lip and thought before raising a single hand. Roman’s stomach sank. Logan only did that when he was too nervous to allow himself to articulate fully. That couldn’t be a good sign.

Decathlon meetings and concerts… Roman blinked, confused. Didn’t he go to those?

“I thought I went to those already?” Roman asked, cocking his head to the side. Logan shook his head and lifted the other hand as well, something smoothing over in Roman’s stomach at that.

Not for a few months, now. Roman’s blood decided to all travel to his feet without his consent, leaving him pale as a sheet and unable to process his surroundings and his thoughts. Holy… this had been going on for months?! And Logan was only now saying something?! How long he had been suffering in silence, believing himself below Roman’s wants, crying on the inside as his brother shattered his heart into a million shreds-

Roman? I’m sorry, it’s stupid, you can ignore me, Logan signed. That snapped Roman out of his stupor and he lunged forward, latching onto Logan’s shoulders and staring into his wide, sad, dark brown eyes.

“No. Nope. Not hearing that. Now the question becomes: exactly how long have I been a horrible brother?” Logan swallowed and looked down at his hands as Roman’s heart sank. He had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer, but he honestly could care less at this point. He needed to know, he needed to fix things, he needed to make Logan happy-

Five months, four days, eighteen hours, and thirty six seconds. The air left Roman’s lungs and if he weren’t already sitting down, he surely would have collapsed onto the bed. Or the floor. Both were viable options at this point to his foggy brain and shattering heart. How had he been so terrible, so despicable, so horrendously bad that this had been going on for more than five months and he. Hadn’t. Noticed?! Logan started crying as he noticed Roman’s silent reaction, and if that didn’t just twist Roman’s heart into a tighter charcoal lump than it already was, more than he considered possible.

“Hey, Lo, it… please don’t cry,” Roman choked out. Logan kept crying, even as Roman gently pulled him into a side-hug. “It’s okay, alright? I… I wish you’d told me sooner, but I’m not mad, okay? I… I just want to fix this and for you to be okay…” Logan sniffed and shook his head, wiping his eyes on his sleeve.

But it’s not okay because I made you sad. Roman started crying at that, those nine words breaking what was left of his already fractured, blackened, twisted-up heart. Now both twins were a sobbing, anxious mess, and neither of them trusted themselves to continue this conversation without causing serious damage to the other. They remained in this standstill of sorts for the better part of five minutes, in which far too many tears were shed and no statements of any kind were traded. One could almost consider this a failure of a conversation, if not for Logan’s friends.

See, no one would ever dare accuse Mika Kirkland of being a doting parent, but they also sure as hell wouldn’t accuse xem of not giving a shit at all. While Wirt might be more willing to take “give us space” incredibly literally and go to a whole other level of the house to not eavesdrop, Mika was not that person and had instead camped just outside the door to Logan’s room. When the tickle fight had started, xe had startled, half-convinced there was a murder going on in there. Of course, xe had quickly realized that it was just a tickle fight and had relaxed, believing the worst of the conversation to be over. However, once the sobbing started, xe shot to xyr feet and ran off, ready to try and fix this the only way xe knew how: blanket forts, hot cocoa, and plushies.

With some help from Patton and Virgil, Mika managed to rig up a basic blanket fort in the living room around the telly and set to work on making good hot chocolate from melted dark chocolate chunks and real milk, not that powdered crap that xe would never admit to secretly liking. Patton and Virgil left to take Wirt home just as the mugs were done, leaving Mika to waltz up the stairs, into Logan’s bedroom, and drag both idiotic emotional twins downstairs to watch cartoons and sip hot cocoa in a nice warm blanket fort surrounded by plushies.

Roman tried to protest, and Mika shut him up with a gentle smack to the head and a blanket around the shoulders. “Drink your fucking hot chocolate and let me make you feel better,” xe growled, turning on Big Hero 6 while xe settled Logan in next to Roman. Once both twins were thoroughly cocooned in blankets, trapped on all sides by plushies, and drinking far too much hot cocoa to be healthy, Mika retreated, going to grab the things for Phase Two of xyr plan.

“So… I’m really, really sorry,” Roman murmured, hugging his ceramic red mug closer to his chest. Logan sighed and raised a hand, holding his black ceramic mug in his right hand.

Roman I love you but shut up. This isn’t on you. Roman gulped and sipped the warm brown liquid, still convinced this was all his fault. Logan sighed and leaned onto Roman’s shoulder, sighing. Roman, please believe me.

“Listen to Logan, he clearly got the brains in this twin set,” Mika called, walking back in with… was that a nail polish set?! Roman and Logan both blinked in unison, confused. “This is nail polish. I want you two to do your nails, and you’re not leaving until your nails are dry and you’ve solved these issues.” With that, Mika stalked out, leaving the twins alone.

So… I go first? Logan signed. Roman nodded and extended his hands. Logan grabbed some red and gold nail polish and set to work, keeping one hand free to communicate.

Alright. Tell me about your friends? I want to know something about each of them before I sit with them at lunch. Roman blinked. Really? Logan nodded, looking at his brother with a comforting smile.

“Alright, um… So. Shiloh is a STEM nerd as well as a theatre nerd. You’ll get along great, he really loves Doctor Who and the Sherlock Holmes stuff.” Logan’s eyes lit up at that, making something positive bubble in Roman’s stomach. “Mabel loves glitter and crafting, so don’t sit by her if you don’t want to be washing glitter off of you for a solid week after the fact.”

Good to know, Logan signed. Roman nodded and looked at his now red and gold nails, smiling softly.

“Dani is a tri-sport athlete, a math nerd, and is actually our head tech person. So, if you want to talk about construction and architecture, she’s your person.” Logan nodded and finished the second coat on Roman’s nails. “And Tommy is a track person and our main costume designer. He’s a bit of a diva, but honestly, he’s a sweetheart.”

Isn’t he the one who always comes first in the sprints? Roman murmured confirmation and Logan kept going with his nails.

“And then… Kate honestly flits in and out, but she’s mainly a dancer. Cory and Clair… have a thing. Clair’s a fashion diva and a writer, and Cory’s just a bundle of sweetness until you push too far.” Logan took in this information and finished Roman’s nails, nodding as he capped up the last bottle.

Alright. Would you mind if I joined you tomorrow? Roman beamed, nodding enthusiastically, and had to force himself to not move his hands in order to not ruin Logan’s almost-perfect paint job.

“Of course you can! Anything else?” Logan shook his head, and with that, Roman took Logan’s hands, grabbed blue and silver nail polish, and got to work. “Alright, then it’s my turn. You’re amazing and I don’t tell you enough. I’m so sorry that I’ve been an ass, and I promise that now I’m going to try much, much harder to be aware of you and what you need, emotions wise.” Logan blinked and started to raise a hand, most likely to deny that he had emotions, but Roman grabbed it back and settled it back into position. “Um, nope, you’ll ruin the nail polish.” Logan’s shoulders drooped and he chuckled a little bit before remaining still.

“Now, I’m coming to your next concert, and your next Decathlon competition, and we’re having lunch tomorrow. And while I wanted to do a spa day tonight, this is great! Now, I’m almost done, hang on.” Logan nodded, and Roman quickly finished his nails in silence before pulling back, beaming. “Okay! Now… aw, movie’s over.” Logan giggled and carefully held up his hands.

You are a dork. Roman gasped, clasping a hand over his heart dramatically.

“How dare!” Logan giggled and gently pushed Roman back, smile lighting up the room. The two dissolved into fits of giggles and cuddled into each other, falling asleep in a cloud of happiness after the stressful emotions of the night.

“Alright, Logan, remember what I told you. Clair can smell fear,” Roman shout-murmured to be heard over the din of the cafeteria. Logan nodded and clutched his Caesar salad closer to his chest to prevent it being brushed out of his hands in the crowded room. Roman slipped an arm through Logan’s and pulled him over to the usual table. Everyone’s eyes snapped up at their presence, and Logan’s blood chilled. Did they all hate him? Especially because Mika had yelled at Roman yesterday at lunch.

“Logan! You’re okay!” Shiloh called, shooting upright and dashing over to wrap him in a hug. Logan stiffened before awkwardly hugging back, salad still clutched in one hand. Shiloh pulled back and ruffled his hair, giggling a bit before dragging Logan over to sit between him and a blonde, most likely Dani.

“Hey, Logan! I heard you like architecture,” the blonde (yep, definitely Dani) started, voice bubbling with authentic cheer and interest. Logan smiled and carefully picked at his salad before answering her open-ended statement.

Yes, I really do. Gothic architecture is a favourite of mine, to be honest. Dani clapped her hands and completely ignored her garlic pasta, launching into a long ramble about flying buttresses and how amazing and innovative they were for the time period. Logan jumped in as well, talking about the geometry and the psychology behind why these structures were so aesthetically appealing. That launched them into a discussion about geometry and how important it is in so many areas of study, leaving everyone else confused.

Eventually, a long pink nail tapped the table in front of Logan. He turned to see a red-head dressed like a fashion model, smiling at him. “So. Logan. I heard you like literature.” Logan nodded, and the redhead, clearly Clair, reached into her bag and pulled out a book, plopping it in front of Logan. “Have you read Picture of Dorian Grey?” Logan nodded, and Clair’s face lit up before she launched into a rant about that. With that, Logan settled down and relaxed, the camaraderie among Roman’s friends washing over him and whisking all his worries away while he ate his salad.

Notes: Sorry not sorry :) Also, we should be out of the worst of the angst. Not to say there isn’t going to be more, just that most of the worst of it is over with. Thank you for reading!

#sanders sides #logan sanders #roman sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #twin logince #moxiety #paternal moxiety #angst #fluff #hurt/comfort #selectively mute logan #i am an evil author #writing trade #chapter three #only time #ocs #characters from other fandoms

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