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sweetmage · 1 year ago

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Many Things (Gale/M!Tav fanfic)

Rating: G Word Count: 1,766 Tags: Awkward flirting, secret identity, drow Tav

Summary: Though the other partygoers have made it clear they don't wish to share Rhidyl's company, he'd prefer to spend his time with Gale anyway. After all, Gale promised he'd share his list of all of Rhidyl's best attributes, but Rhidyl has a few hidden traits of his own to bring to light.

Notes: I just wanted to write a little thing for them. See replies for more context for Rhidyl's motivations + info/sources about the drow words used :)

"Were I to recite that list," Gale began, fumbling his words through an earnest grin, "I fear we'd still be here at dusk tomorrow. Many things, I assure you, but a conversation better saved for another time."

Rhidyl exhaled through the nose, head cocked in disapproval. "If I'd any good sense I'd think you were trying to be rid of me."

"No," Gale responded in quick defense, hands raised and waving in a flurry, "No, never. I just thought you may wish to return to the others, mingle, enjoy the festivities."

"Would that they would have me,” he shifted, arms folded over his chest, “but they've all seemed rather eager to run me off."

"Oh..." Gale winced and peeked out at the crowd then drew his gaze back to Rhidyl, a little too tipsy to hide his relief at the outcome. "Their loss. If you truly want to waste away your evening in my company then I'd be as much of a fool to stop you."

"At least one among us has taste.” Rhidyl's expression eased a touch. “Now carry on with your waxing poetic about the finer points of my person."

"Well your humility is certainly not among them," Gale buried a chuckle with another deep swig of wine, "but for all your posturing and bluster, I know you are a good man. With a good heart." He punctuated his words with a firm pointer against the smooth, exposed skin of Rhidyl's chest, though he drew it back in the same breath, holding it as though he’d been burned. "Sorry... all that is to say, I find that admirable. I also find that you are a fine swordsman. Where did you train?"

It wasn’t so much the question that startled him as it was the lack of a suitable answer, nothing but half-formed, unconvincing lies resting behind his teeth. Though his stoic features told no tales, he must have hesitated just long enough for Gale to know he had touched on something forbidden.

“Off limits, I apologize. We won’t go there. I was only curious. I myself was a student of Blackstaff Academy, I’m sure you’ve heard of it.”

“From you, no less.”

“Oh yes, of course, I did mention that, didn't I? Silly me. With all that has transpired, I find my mind wandering at times, I can hardly keep track of it all. Tadpoles, am I right?" Gale rambled on, and on, and on, until Rhidyl could scarcely follow, his words spilling together into a slurring stream of consciousness that would have made any seasoned tavern-goer blush. But he smiled lightly and lent his ear, drank it all up, and let it drown out the clamor from the far side of camp. When he tired of his own tales, Gale halted himself with a forceful clearing of his throat. "For whatever it's worth, I am grateful for your company, even if the circumstances of our meeting were less than desirable. But, that is more than enough of my prattling, perhaps my mouth could serve you better by—" Gale's eyes widened and so too did Rhidyl's, their gazes locked for a tense, uncomfortable moment. "I meant— oh, hells... By talking, of course. About other matters than your personal life. Now."

"You've such a way with words. Go then, show me what wonders your mouth is capable of."

He was visibly sweating now, skin dewy in the torchlight as he shifted where he stood. "Maybe I should just... get back to the point. The list, the many things you are beyond exceptional at. Getting right under my skin, for starters." He smiled and attempted what Rhidyl could only assume was a playful wink, though it only served to deepen the pleasant crinkles at the corners of his eyes. Then his face fell, lips tilted down and brow drawn tight above his earnest eyes. "And the simple fact that you could be anywhere and yet you choose to while away the night in the company of a babbling wizard with a most volatile condition. I have not the words to thank you."

"Then don't. While I do so love your praises, I've a mind of my own. You are far less tiresome than the horned ones, and far less troublesome than the rest. I can think of worse company. And besides, come tomorrow we have much to face. That oak of a druid spoke of paths forward, and if I'm being quite honest, my mind has remained there and left little room for celebration."

Gale seemed to sense the shift in the air and sobered to the reality of the moment. "Indeed. We are certainly not without our choices, though none seem particularly favorable."

"Perhaps in your opinion. A journey through the Underdark is no trifle, but it is the safest route."

Gale let out a low, rumbling laugh. "Safe for who, exactly? The drow amongst the goblins we faced were less than welcoming. I'm not so sure we'd find a better reception should we stumble into their domain. If we do not keep our wits, even the best case scenario sees us dead in a tenday."

"Usstan orn mrigg udossa."

His brows shot up in surprise and he set his glass aside, leaning in to study Rhidyl with a quizzical expression as though he'd just materialized before him. "I know the tongue of the elves, but that was no language of the surface."

"You could say I'm fluent in more than swordplay." Rhidyl shrugged. "After all, the domain of the drow is also my own. I'd rather not gamble with the unfamiliar when the familiar can be relied upon. As I said: I will guide us."

"Just a moment.” Gale was shaking his head as if to force the thoughts within to settle. “Let’s take it back a few steps here. I am not one to judge so forgive me if this is a bit forward, but how does one of human and wood elven blood come to live among the drow?"

"They don't. I have misled you, perhaps a poor thanks for your kindness, but it was necessary. I don't quite fancy being left alone to trade my sanity for tentacles, but for all I knew, you lot would sooner leave me for dead than travel with one of my kind. But now that you need me, my secret is out and at your disposal."

"Ah, I see..." But Gale's eyes said otherwise, roaming his ashen complexion and shocks of red hair, seeking the answers that evaded him. "Well, this changes nothing. I have seen what you've done for those children, those refugees, for us… for me. That I know to be real. Under what pretenses you did so hardly matters. I trust you. And that's not just the wine talking."

"A wise decision. I hope you will remain as open-minded when dawn breaks and your head clears," Rhidyl responded, the tiniest glimmer of relief in his gaze. "And it's dye. I feel a fool for choosing one so garish, but not nearly as much of one as those who never noticed."

Gale chuckled softly, his smirk tilted to one side. "Oh trust me, we all noticed, we're just far too polite to mention it. What you were concealing with it is a different matter, I always assumed it was a fragile ego."

"My ego was quite intact before, you could have spared me that detail." Though he spat the words, Rhidyl was not angered. Quite the contrary, the playful twitch of his lips giving him away. "I suppose I should tell the others come morning. There's no use keeping up the charade. I look forward to a day where I am not cooked beneath your blazing sky. I am not merely a dark elf but d'korit'al waess, 'albino' as I believe you'd call it. Perhaps now I may reasonably request we travel more under nightfall or at least when the sun is less vengeful."

Gale's features softened as his curiosity was sated, replaced by a sort of pity. "If you're worried for your skin, I may have a book or two with solutions. When the others have cleared out and when my brain has cleared up, I can prepare you something suitable. That is, if you'd like."

"That would be... very generous of you." Rhidyl shifted his weight, arms tightening around himself, gaze turned to the side. "I'll not say no."

A silence fell between them, filled by the distant chatters of merriment and the occasional clang of glasses.

"I appreciate you spending this time with me. And for trusting me to be the first one privvy to the truth. If it means anything, I am honored. You are a welcome distraction from the horror that has been brewing within my chest. I hope you know what a gift you've given me. I feel lighter."

"As do I..." His voice was but a whisper, his eyes on his scuffed leather boots, a heat in his cheeks. "But you'd best stop flattering me lest I let it all go to my head. And for what it's worth, you're not so bad yourself. I had once thought your kind the most loathsome beasts but now... well, the jury is still out. You, however, have made your case."

"From your lips that is quite the compliment," Gale laughed, his fond gaze lingering there a moment before shifting back towards the party. "I remind you, I have no intentions of shooing you away, but another seems to be waiting their turn."

Rhidyl's eyes drifted towards where Gale had turned, finding Alfira smiling a ways back with her lute and crinkled papers in one hand, the other waving him over as soon as she'd caught his attention.

Rhidyl sighed and adjusted his glasses, giving Gale a firm nod. "I suppose I better go see what's got her in a fuss. Perhaps she's finally composed a ballad worthy of my greatness. Hopefully one of my ears as well."

He took a step back and paused, taking Gale in for a long, quiet moment until his words broke the silence.

"I'll see you in the morning," Gale said, looking almost hopeful as if they didn't share a camp and it wasn't guaranteed. If there was something about his presence he longed for…

Rhidyl didn't dare dwell on it on, merely flashing him a tight-lipped smile as he took another step back, one hand held high in parting. "Of course. Goodnight, Gale. Pleasant dreams." He turned from him quickly and dragged himself off, fingers still tracing the spot Gale's had touched.

#bg3 #baldur's gate 3 #gale of waterdeep #gale dekarios #male!tav #drow tav #oc: rhidyl #jun fics #jun edits

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maespri · 14 days ago

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answering questions about my psychology / media survey

okay hi!! i received a lot more responses in regards to this post than i expected i would (thank you so much for that!!), which in turn has led to me getting a lot of questions. instead of trying to make separate posts for them all, i'm officially deeming this "the question post" haha. i will consistently update this post with answers to anything asked on that form.

in essence: if you ask me a question on the form, come back and check here to see my response!

last updated 12/11/2024 | 7:34PM CT

here we go!

first of all, to the people who left any sort of sweet message in their question area, i just want to say thank you from the bottom of my heart! your supportiveness and kindness is so important to me and it is truly touching to know others are interested in this sort of stuff and appreciative of me. ♡

i'll kill two birds with one stone here! i'm a psychology student in university (though i'm not using this survey for anything related to school), and in general, psychology is something i've always been interested in. i'm also very interested in media and media analysis. this survey has given me the opportunity to combine those two things i love and give me a unique insight into the ways other people feel about their favorite characters and media.

in all honesty, i can sum up my answer to this pretty easily: i'm a huge nerd and i'm trying to find out if the process of connecting with fictional characters is roughly the same for every person, and if it's not, how it differs for individuals!

if you're asking in general, it's mae borowski from night in the woods. i could write an entire essay about why, but i'll spare you!

this question was asked on a form for a your turn to die character though, so i'll answer for my favorite your turn to die character-- it's sara chidouin! i won't go as in-depth as i would if i were filling out my own form, but she was my favorite by the second part. i relate to her in a startling number of ways and admire her tenacity and strength throughout the game despite everything she faces. we have a lot of the same positive traits and flaws as well. i just connected with her quite deeply. thank you so much for the ask!

in short: YES, i am absolutely going to share my findings if i receive enough responses (i'm hoping for at least somewhere between 50 and 100, but more would be even more helpful!).

any patterns i spot and information i uncover will be put together by me and shared, rest assured! i will also be maintaining people's anonymity and privacy to the fullest extent, however. no specific answers or sensitive information people shared will ever be posted, nor will i hone in on a singe individual submission. privacy is very important to me.

oh what a wonderful question!! don't apologize i LOVE nerding out with fellow psychology lovers HAHA. i think the biggest thing to keep in mind with the way i'm conducting this is that it's not for anything... serious, if that makes sense... this was born of passion and is being done purely for fun. so in essence: i'm just gonna do whatever the hell i want LOL.

this isn't my first rodeo in the sense of doing surveys, analyzing data, etc.-- i'm also a psych student and aside from that i've been taking psychology classes and studying it in my free time my entire life haha. so i know qualitative data is difficult to interpret for a myriad of reasons. however i'm not analyzing a huge portion of data here; i think i said i would keep the survey open until i reached 100 responses, and i'm currently sitting at 70. not to underestimate how difficult it will be... but considering this is something i'm passionate about and i've done this before, i'm not really worried about how long it may take, even if it does take a while. there's no rush.

to answer your question of how i actually plan to analyze the data, i'm first going to start with the broader questions- age, gender, neurodiversity, etc... anything that wasn't a free-response question. then i'm going through each response and seeing what appears more often than anything else throughout every response. i don't have any concrete plans, because like i said, this form is still open and anything can change-- but in a very broad sense, i'm just looking for patterns and correlations, as one would do with any research. i'm currently extremely busy with finals coming up, but once i have more time and once i have enough responses, a more concrete plan will certainly be formed.

huge congratulations on graduating, and thank you for the question <3

yes, i absolutely did! there were zero rules as to what type of character you could submit, so... i had no idea what kind of submissions i'd get. i've gotten a handful from some pretty niche characters, and plenty from media i've never heard of.

i don't mind any characters who are from fanfiction-- in fact, and i hope this was clear in the way i outlined the questions, you could even submit an OC as your favorite character, whether it be your own OC or someone else's. what i'm getting at is-- the possibilities are endless. i think it just makes it all the more interesting, which i love! i encourage people to submit whoever they so please :]

and for the record, i knew who the character you submitted was haha. i had a phase with that media and yours was the first submission with a character from it, which was cool! thank you for your submission and the question <3

those are all of the questions so far!

#vees survey #<- yeah im making that one of my tags LMFAOOO #thank u again to everyone..!!! <3

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writer-monster · 3 years ago

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11 reasons why cap 4 should reintroduce Bucky Barnes as the love interest, an essay

to start this off, i am not writing this essay from a shipping place nor do i believe that this would have any influence at all over the upcoming movie. i expect nothing. this is simply something that i would personally like to see. (of course no hate to anybody who thinks differently)

here are 11 reasons why i think making Bucky into Sam Wilson's love interest in Cap 4 would be a good move for Disney.

1. on the Chinese film market - and why it's an irrelevant argument against the inclusion of homosexual themes in Cap 4

the Chinese film market is something that has been blamed for a lack of diversity in Hollywood films a lot lately. many people claim that this market with a lot of buying power has been responsible for the lack of gay and black representation in particular within Hollywood films.

and we have certainly seen Hollywood treating it as such, going so far as to cut gay scenes from movies for their Chinese releases, and vastly minimising John Boyega's (a black actor's) presence in the Chinese poster of Star Wars The Force Awakens.

[image ID: on the left is an image of the American poster for Star Wars The Force Awakens, featuring John Boyega prominently on the right-hand side. And on the right is the Chinese poster for the same movie, in which John Boyega is barely visible.]

so we know at the very least that Disney believes this through their own actions and efforts to self-censor for the different markets.

but Captain America 4 is a black-led movie, don't you forget. and Disney can't minimise Sam Wilson/Anthony Mackie in the movie or the poster because it's his movie and his poster. and no amount of creativity in the editing room can change that (thank God!).

so if by their own argument the film is already going to be either banned, panned or slammed in China... then what do they have to fear from making it a gay movie too?

2. oh, the queerbaiting

queerbaiting is an unusual cultural idea. and sometimes i find myself thinking that the term is far too easily used, but then all of a sudden i will stumble upon a movie or show that is so quintessentially cruel and overt in it's... well... queerbaiting that i will start to wonder what the hell kind of a bizarre relationship all these straight people seem to have with their friends. take Troy and Abed from Community or John and Sherlock from Sherlock as the perfect examples of this. (in which my reaction to the show's creators saying the show wasn't gay was to ask so then why did you make it so gay?!)

i felt that Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes in tfatws were getting quite close to this level of queerbaiting.

there was the field scene, the couple's counselling scene, the boat scene, the couple's counselling scene, Bucky going with Sam to face Karli when she told Sam to come alone, the couple's counselling scene, ALL the staring scenes, Sam checking out Bucky's ass here as they said goodbye, the "i would move in with him but" hidden scene, "Uncle Bucky" showing up at the cookout scene, the romantic walking off together into the sunset together ending scene, and the couple's counselling scene. did i forget anything? but i mean seriously, the couple's counselling scene!!! that thing they did with their legs and their crotches while staring deep into each other's eyes, would any straight guy willingly do that? do straight guys crotch-snuggle now?

[image ID: an image of Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes during the therapy scene with the quote, "Isn't anybody going to drag me into impromptu couple's therapy and slot my legs firmly between theirs before staring deeply into my eyes?"]

(yeah i stole this image from a buzzfeed article on the fan reactions to the couple's therapy scene. but given that they stole 80% of the content of that article from fandom tumblr, i think it's pretty even-steven.)

there's also the fact that people started talking about bisexual Bucky Barnes a lot after the tiger pictures line, and the lead writer Malcom Spellman responded to the talk of Bucky's bisexuality with "just keep watching". well we watched, Malcolm. but it's beginning to feel like you were just jerking us around.

3. the writing

seriously though, what else is Bucky Barnes doing right now in the MCU? his only remaining connection to anything going on right now is through Sam. there is literally nothing else established that's left for him to do that doesn't involve Sam. he moved to Louisiana to be closer to Sam (canonically), he hangs out with Sam's family (canonically), and Steve is presumably gone and is definitely not coming back for more adventures.

he has no villains or loose ends left. he has no other superheroes that he appears to be in contact with. he has no girlfriend or potential love interest, or even other friends or family. he is living in a tent that he has secretly set up in Sam's backyard and is mysteriously appearing from the bushes when it's time for dinner like a stray cat.

in my opinion there is no other meaningful and pre-established progression for Bucky's character that wouldn't just feel cheap.

plus, i don't think the general audience would be all that surprised if they kissed. i think a LOT of people picked up on all that tension. i think a lot of straight people picked up on all that tension too.

4. the chemistry between the actors & the chemistry between the characters

the original pitch for tfatws was essentially just this, it was the chemistry between Sebastian Stan and Anthony Mackie and their respective MCU characters of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson.

now obviously Anthony and Sebastian are simply friends, and i wouldn't mean to imply anything more. but they are also not their characters.

Sam and Bucky's scenes together before tfatws were both limited and short, and yet audiences still fell in love with the dynamic between the two characters.

in interviews, these two actors are constantly slipping into character and flirting with each other and frankly it's adorable. plus it's really entertaining. i'd love to see that dynamic, unfiltered, in a movie.

because believe it or not the flirting is actually even more open in their interviews than it was in tfatws. and i'm leaving some links as proof.

this here is known as the "married" compilation

and here's a "lucky dip" selection of interviews - 1, 2, 3, 4, 5,

and here's Anthony trying to get Seb to take his jacket off.

i'm just saying, why not let their chemistry shine? these two are so talented and so entertaining, especially when you put them in a room together. and can you imagine how absolutely hilarious and brilliant it would be to watch them navigate being a couple?

(and for those who bring up the "friends would be uncomfortable pretending to be dating" argument, i'm not here asking for a sex scene or anything. i don't think anyone would expect them to show any more intimacy (physical or emotional) while playing a couple than what they've already shown together in say... tfatws or in their own interviews. not that i actually expect anything regardless.)

5. if they were a man and a woman they would've gotten together in tfatws

i have no more to add here. just that... yeah, they would've.

6. and i'm not talking about the comics here, i'm talking about the MCU.

i understand fully that none of what i'm saying here falls in line with these characters from the comics. but the mcu itself doesn't fall much in line with the comics either, and these two characters especially are very different from their comics counterparts.

i'm not asking for these two to get together in the comics. tbh i don't think that it would work.

but the mcu Sam and Bucky are different and closer than their comics counterparts. they've got different histories, different backstories, and a very different dynamic. please rest assured that i am only talking about them in the mcu.

7. Bucky Barnes is believably bisexual. and Sam Wilson has never been proven to be straight in the mcu, nor has he had a love interest.

(now please continue to keep in mind that these points only stand for the mcu versions of Bucky Barnes and Sam Wilson, and not at all for their comics counterparts.)

Sam Wilson has never had a love interest, which is crazy because have you seen that man! he has had two blink and you'll miss it moments of verbal expression of attraction to women, both in TWS. and that's the extent of it, through his entire history in the mcu.

Bucky Barnes has had a number of surface-level female love interests, but none of them even came close to the level of connection and chemistry that Bucky shares with Sam.

and i'm sorry SarahBucky fans, but i just don't think there's very much to their relationship either. i love Sarah, i really do. but it's Sam who shares all the meaningful moments and history and chemistry with Bucky. and i don't see what making her into a love interest would do for Sarah's character either, what would that add to her story?

[Picture ID: Bucky at the cookout with Sam, Sarah, Cass and AJ. Bucky and Sam are looking at each other and smiling.]

and also there is the whole tiger pictures thing... again. which does strongly suggest that Bucky is bisexual whether this was intentional on behalf of the writers or not.

8. it's representation... AND it feels natural

marvel hasn't had a lot of queer representation that's been noticeably present in the MCU at the time of writing this.

there have been a lot of failures so far, from the bisexual erasure of Valkyrie in Thor Ragnarok to the wlw erasure in Black Panther.

there was queerbaiting almost identical to the bisexual Bucky baiting for Guardians of the Galaxy Vol 2. when asked if he had considered featuring a gay hero in gotg2, director James Gunn stated that "We might have already done that. I say, watch the movie." after the movie's release audiences were understandably confused about the lack of queer representation. To which the director followed up his comments with, "But we don't really know who's gay and who's not. It could be any of them."

there is also Loki, considered by most fans after the airing of his six episode series on Disney+ to be both a poor attempt at both genderfluid representation and bisexual representation. with both attempts being summed up fairly well by the term "blink-and-you'll-miss-it". (also it's just terribly written and Loki doesn't wear any interesting clothes! fanficcers are a Goddamn blessing in this hard time!)

and let us not forget that Andrew Garfield was apparently FIRED for pushing for a bisexual spiderman. a bisexual spiderman within an interracial mlm relationship no less.

so for all these failures, marvel, why not allow us queer fans this? two brilliant and heroic men in a loving interracial relationship. two heroes that we can look up to.

now, one of the biggest detractions from the argument for representation is the idea of "forced diversity". and some poorly written characters certainly do end up feeling forced into the narrative. take Iceman in the comics for example, with Jean Grey just straight up suddenly telling him he's gay. like, marvel, sweetie, that's not how this works! and i don't know a lot of queer people who thought much of that "representation".

but the crux of the "forced diversity" argument is almost always that it feels unnatural within the story, right? and i don't think that anyone could say that about MCU Sam and Bucky ending up together, given these characters' existing chemistry and their history. they've both played characters in gay relationships before so we know that it's not outside of either actor's wheelhouse. and y'all know that Anthony and Seb can act, people. if it's in the script i believe that they'll make it seem like the most natural thing on earth.

9. it'd be a nice change

there's been an ongoing meme lately about "Disney's first gay character", the joke being that they continually announce gay characters without really ever including gay characters in their films.

this is to the point where Disney has formed a reputation amongst queer audiences of being homophobic.

if Sam and Bucky were to become a couple, then Disney could have its first actual gay character within a gay relationship. AND have him be in the lead of his own movie, no less.

it's also worth keeping in mind that there's likely an overlap between the people who were outraged by a Sam Wilson Captain America, and the people who'd be outraged by a gay Captain America. and if they were already not seeing the film, then i don't think much is gonna change that.

queer audiences would definitely love it, and the media attention would be guaranteed to be huge. i mean, simply look at the amount of media attention mere rumours of a character's queerness gets you and multiply that by a canon confirmation of said rumours.

but i'm pretty sure that Disney already knows this.

10. and yet, in truth, it's not about the representation

in truth i've never felt that i had any trouble relating to characters of any sexual orientation, race, gender, sex, body type, etc. (although that is not to throw any shade at all on people who do wish to see themselves represented) but for me, i think it's more about the story than the packaging.

and yet, a love story is still just a story. straight or queer, monoethnic or interracial. when two characters have chemistry and history and have sacrificed for each other time and time again, and they also can't keep their hands or their eyes off each other, then i'm pretty sure that that's a love story.

straight or queer, monoethnic or interracial, it shouldn't be about these simple labels. it should be about how well written the relationship is. it should be about chemistry, and history, and sacrifice.

because i'm fucking sick of all the hollow, forced romances in media no matter the genders of the participants. i'm sick of lazily written, shallow relationships where any two people sharing the same space for any extended period of time will simply fall in love. it's boring, it's repetitive, and as a writer myself it drives me up the wall!

romance stories suck! and everyone knows that romance stories suck. between twilight, and most of the entire YA genre, and love triangles (so boring), and romance used as poorly-written throwaway subplots in Hollywood movies, the world is in agreement that the romance in western media is simply dreadful. and yet we still want love stories. it's an entire genre that sits at the heart of the human experience (<3), and yet one which so few of today's best known writers seem truly able to capture.

i don't think that i'm the only one who feels this way, either. i suspect it's actually a large part of why fandom is so romance-centred in the first place, that we're all just starving for a good love story.

(btw i think fandom has a reputation for being something that as a whole that it is not. it has this reputation for straight up demanding things and harassing people until they get their way. while unfortunately there are a few people who do this, they're fucking annoying and i swear that they're far from the majority.

in my experience fandom is mostly about writing a five thousand word story at three am while drunk off your ass because it might make someone whom you've never met smile, editing it in the cold light of day, and then posting it. expecting nothing. sometimes getting nothing. and sometimes getting someone send you kudos or a comment so heartbreakingly wonderful that it makes you smile in return.)

11. so once again, it is all about the writing.

i want to see Sam and Bucky get together in the mcu, not because they would be a gay couple but because i genuinely believe that their story has potential to be an amazing love story.

and i know the mcu isn't about the romance. it's why in my personal opinion we haven't gotten a lot of good canon romances besides Peter Quill and Gamora. and i don't think that the mcu should be all about the romance either. i fucking love the action and the fighting scenes. i love the comedy. Captain America: The Winter Soldier had no romance and it was a fucking treasure, it was an amazing spy-action-thriller and it made my little gay heart dance. Thor Ragnarok had no romance, and it was an utterly brilliant comedic spectacle action film. not every movie needs romance.

but mcu Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes were doing couple's therapy and fixing a boat and walking off into the sunset together in tfatws. they were inseparable on the battlefield. they've got a dynamic. it's beautiful, it's romantic, and it's gold.

a budding relationship between them in the next movie would be a good way to explore both characters more without the narrative feeling too stilted and separate. at the end of tfatws, both Sam and Bucky fans found that their respective fave felt somewhat underutilised and that their characters were underexplored.

now, that problem would be even more difficult to remedy in a movie, because the plotline of a movie needs to be really tight to work (giggity). and we know that the central conflict of the movie is gonna be action-based (which is good), but we still need each character's personal journey and growth to tie into the main conflict. (which is another issue that some fans found with tfatws, that these characters didn't really feel connected to the action-based plot on a more personal level.)

if Sam and Bucky are already in a relationship, however, this whole dynamic changes. first, their relationship has already been set up for nicely since TWS and through tfatws and they would officially be the best-fleshed-out couple in the mcu. but most importantly, a relationship gives them a perfect vehicle to explore both of their pasts comparatively and connect them personally to the action-based plot.

do you want to establish that Sam is a little too trusting and naïve? then establish this through his relationship with Bucky, and through showing his placing his trust in Bucky. (rather than through having him sympathise with a villain who threatened to murder his sister and his nephews).

perhaps you want to show Bucky recovering from his trauma? show us how comfortable he is with Sam. they get along, they're enjoying each other's presence, we see more of Sam's life and of his family, and then let Bucky tell Sam something that's raw and dark and honest about his life as The Winter Soldier. something about a memory, one that he only just recalled. he's opening up. and maybe what he tells Sam is even something that sets up the future action-based conflict, to ground that in something real.

you want to explore that Sam has trauma too? do this through Bucky. he tells Bucky a story about his time in the military. in the form of a flashback, he shares his own story of loss to evoke before the audience the shared theme of feeling at fault even when you're simply a helpless bystander to an act of pure destruction.

then, action sequence! and it's directly connected to Bucky's time as the Winter Soldier. explore the grief of someone whose life the Winter Soldier tore apart manifesting into a villain perpetuating the cycle of pain. establish your villain.

Later, Sam is dragged into battle against this villain for protecting Bucky. But Bucky doesn't want Sam to protect him. He feels guilt for what he can't control and he doesn't want Sam getting hurt because of him. Bucky reminds Sam that he has a family, one who needs him and who loves him. He tells him to go home.

Sam reminds Bucky that he's a part of that family. And that sure Sam's a hero and his job is to protect anyone and everyone, but that he's doing it because he wants to. It's not simply to prove that he can, or to prove that he's not a bystander (this connects to Sam's trauma here), but that he's doing it to help people.

and this gets Bucky thinking about who he is and what he's doing here. is he a hero who stands by Sam's side? or is he an ordinary man who stands aside? or perhaps, does he stand alone? what does he stand for? Maybe Sam knows. But does Bucky?

Sam and Bucky fight off the villain again, and for the first time Bucky meets this adversary face to face. And Bucky recognises this villain, and has a flashback to the genuine pain that he inflicted upon them in the form of the Winter Soldier. Bucky freezes mid-fight, he almost dies, and Sam has to save him.

Sam chews Bucky out for almost getting killed because he was afraid for him. but Bucky takes this the wrong way and goes off to fight the villain alone, or perhaps to die alone, he's not quite sure.

He puts up a half-hearted fight. He apologises for what the Winter Soldier has done, and he waits for the killing blow, when Sam swoops down and he saves him. He asks Sam why he saved him and Sam calls him a moron. And then, Sam asks him what sacrificing himself would solve. He tells him that you can't choose your past but you can choose your future (connecting to his own experience of loss and guilt and grief). And that no matter what Bucky Barnes still has a future, whether that's as the Winter Soldier or the White Wolf or just some dork with a day job. And that he has a future as a part of Sam's family too.

Sam fights the villain, and it's toe to toe. He delivers a few good blows, but receives a fair few himself. And then the villain tears off his wings, first one and then the other, in a manner reminiscent of what the Winter Soldier did to him in TWS. Through Bucky's eyes there's a flashback to highlight the parallels. Sam gets back on his feet and he fights his best fight, but is now losing.

And then the heavily injured Bucky steps up and fights by Sam's side, and only together do they take down the villain.

"So... I inspired you, huh?" Sam teases with a smile, utterly exhausted. "With my heroism and-"

"You inspired me." Bucky said, equally exhausted. "Let's leave it at that."

Together, Sam and Bucky go back to the safety and warmth of their family. Sam fixes his wings. Sam goes back to being Captain America. And Bucky... he's around, but it's unclear what he's doing.

That is, until the very end. When Sam is in a fight, and suddenly Bucky shows up and helps him out.

"What are you doing here?" Sam asks.

"I've made up my mind." Bucky says. "I'm the Winter Soldier. But now I'll save lives, Sam. Now, like you, I'll be a hero."

Sam smirks. "So does this make you my sidekick, then?"

Bucky smiles. "C'mon, at least make me a partner." He says.

"How about co-workers." Sam says (in flashback, he remembers back to the death of his last on-the-job partner).

"How about friends." Bucky says, with a wry look.

"Bucky... I don't want to see you put your dumbass self in danger." Sam says.

"Oh, and it's ok for you to go running off into danger on your own all the time?" Bucky asks.

"Yes." Sam says stubbornly. "Absolutely it is."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not a dumbass?!"

"Sam, if you think I'm not gonna be watching your back for the rest of time... then you're the biggest dumbass I know. And I don't care if you need me or not, I will be there for you."

"Because Sam, you're more than Captain America. You're more than a good soldier. You're a good man. And I think sometimes, the world forgets what the difference is."

...or something like that.

(i only spent like 15 minutes on that. you know if i were actually writing this movie i would come up with something much better. and if anyone from marvel is seeing this, yes i can come work for you. i will make the time, let's do this thing right!)

finale

at the end of the day, whether or not the mcu chooses to make Sam Wilson and Bucky Barnes a couple, it's their decision. and they don't owe me anything.

i'm just some random person on the internet. who thinks that Captain America 4 should #givecaptainamericaaboyfriend

#givecaptainamericaaboyfriend #meta #analysis #captain america 4 #caatws #fatws #tfatws #captain america #cap 4 #sam wilson #bucky barnes #sambucky #marvel #mcu #mcu phase 4

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fruitcoops · 3 years ago

Note

Hi!! I was wondering if you could do another fic involving jules and coops together? Just like sweet moments between the three? I loved the baby sitting series you did and could not stop thinking about it❤️❤️ Thank you!!

Yeah, of course! I love writing my boy at any opportunity. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but the relatives are my ocs!

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Sirius asked under his breath as Remus finally—finally—appeared from the mass of people.

“It’s fine,” Remus said around a forced smile to a middle-aged man across the yard.

Sirius hid his mouth by pretending to look down at the nearest casserole dish. He didn’t even know what was in it; nobody had bothered with labels, and everyone’s dishes were the same basic florals in different colors. “I love you, Re, and I totally get the whole ‘meet the parents’ thing, but this is a bit much if I’m being honest.”

“Honey.” Remus’ shoulder pressed against his own. “I’m sorry you’re not having a good time, but my Aunt Jen would skin me alive if I didn’t bring the man I’m marrying to the family reunion. We can leave tomorrow if you really hate—oh, no.”

“Remus!” a shrill, excited voice called. Sirius felt his fiancé straighten up as a tall, redheaded woman in star-painted jeans hurried across the grass with three other women in tow. She reached up and gave Remus’ cheeks a squish, then leaned in a planted a lipstick-stamped kiss to his forehead. “How are you, my duckling? Was your flight alright? Make sure you stay away from the salt or else your feet will swell.”

“Hi, Aunt Jen,” Remus said, grimacing a little at her rib-crushing hug. “I’m doing well, and our flight was fine. How are you?”

“Peachy keen,” she assured him. Dark brown eyes lasered in on Sirius half a second later and he felt his fight or flight kick in. “And who are you?”

“Aunt Jen, this is—”

“It was rhetorical, honey,” Jen interrupted with a pat to Remus’ arm as she stepped closer to Sirius and immediately hauled him in for a hug. She was as tall as Remus, but broader in the shoulders and hips; he had never felt so engulfed by someone. It was a strangely enjoyable feeling.

“Aren’t you a handsome one?” the shortest of the group cooed, as if she was talking to a particularly small dog in a purse. “Our Remus always knew how to pick them.”

Remus furrowed his brows. “Aunt Lisa, this is the first boyfriend I’ve—”

“But he’s not just a boyfriend!” Jen trilled, giving Sirius’ cheek a pat. “He’s a fiancé, something I learned from your mother. Not from your father—oh, I gave him a talking-to about that—and not from you, duck.”

Sirius bit back a laugh at the nickname and spared a glance to his left, where Remus had gone pink all the way to his ears. “Sorry.”

“Introduce us!” the shortest insisted, taking the other two by the hands as pulling them forward with an eager smile.

“Everyone, this is Sirius Black, my fiancé.” Remus gestured between them, and the four women beamed at him. “Sirius, this is Aunt Jen, Aunt Lisa, Aunt Allison, and Aunt Mary, my dad’s sisters.”

“It’s lovely to meet you,” Sirius said, holding a hand out.

“No need to be so formal,” the brunette grumbled with a teasing grin. “We have heard so much about you from Lyall. After those damned pictures—”

“Allison,” Jen hissed.

“—after the damned pictures,” Allison repeated with a pointed look. “I was about ready to drive up to Gryffindor myself and give that lousy son of a bitch a piece of my mind—”

“Allison!”

“—but Lyall talked me down and I have been waiting to meet you ever since.” She finished with a soft huff and gave his arm a quick squeeze. “Remus is a lucky boy to have you. It’s very exciting to see you in person at last.”

Sirius’ heart gave a happy little ka-thump and he smiled. “I’m glad to be here. Thank you for having me.”

“He is so polite,” Lisa said to Remus out of the corner of her mouth with a wink and a thumbs-up. “Good choice.”

“You know what I just realized? We haven’t said hello to Jules yet. We’ll see you in a few, yeah?” Without waiting for an official answer, Remus wrapped an arm around Sirius’ waist and practically carried him away from the table. Once they were out of earshot—and the aunts had busied themselves with one of the younger Lupins—Remus relaxed with a slow exhale. “I am…so sorry.”

“For what?”

“I had no idea they were going to corner you like that. I mean, I did, but I was hoping it wouldn’t be for another few hours. They tend to move in a pack at reunions, like sharks. Or wolves.”

“They’re really sweet.”

“They are,” Remus said grudgingly, though Sirius could read the affection dripping off him like his favorite book. “My dad’s the youngest of five, and I was the first nephew. You can imagine how that went.”

“Baby of the baby?”

“Exactly.”

“Can I ask one thing?” Remus nodded, visibly confused, and Sirius found he couldn’t keep his grin down any longer. “Duckling?”

“I hoped you didn’t hear that,” he groaned as they headed toward the kids’ play area beneath a large oak. “Long story short, it involved five-year-old me, a pond, and a sinus infection that made me sound like a duck when I sneezed.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius laughed, earning himself a light elbow to the ribs. “And the name stuck?”

“Considering she was the one that had to stay with me while my folks were working, she could call me whatever the hell she wanted. Please don’t ask her about it unless you want a thirty-minute TED talk about the ins and outs of my sinuses.”

“She’s a doctor?”

“No, she just overshares.”

“Sirius!”

Sirius looked up and saw a herd of small children racing toward them, led by his favorite person under the age of eighteen; Jules crashed into his legs and squeezed him tight around the waist. “Hey, I missed you!”

Jules propped his chin below Sirius’ sternum and stared up at him with the classic hazel-gold eyes that were far more common than Sirius believed before they arrived in the Lupins’ backyard. “I missed you, too! How’s the team? How’s Harry? Is he still super small or did he do that weird thing that babies do where their legs grow and the rest of them still looks normal? How was your flight? Did you have turbulence?”

Sirius thought for a moment. “Good, also good, growing normally, and yes.”

“Sweet! Come play cornhole with us!” Jules grabbed his hand and dragged him along the grass at the closest thing he could manage to a sprint with Sirius’ added weight—the pre-teen years had lent him gangly legs, though he didn’t seem quite sure how to use them yet. He looked more like a foal than a sixth-grader.

“What the hell is cornhole?” Sirius muttered as the flock of kids ran ahead to grab armfuls of beanbags.

Remus grinned. “Something I’m about to kick your ass at.”

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

By the time the sun set, Sirius was exhausted. He had been introduced to dozens of people who looked just enough like Remus to be eerie, as well as plenty who seemed to have been acquired by one Lupin or another over the course of their life. Jules fluctuated between laminating himself to Sirius’ side and disappearing for an hour at a time, only to return more grass-stained and rumpled than ever as he begged Remus to swing him around by the ankles again. His ass had been thoroughly kicked at cornhole and freeze tag; it was a true miracle he hadn’t already passed out into a food coma. For all of his earlier griping, Sirius couldn’t think of a time in recent months when he had been more content.

“You’re a brave soul,” Remus remarked as they sat in the grass together and watched the fireflies wake. Though it was a warm night, it seemed the citronella candles littering the tables were doing their job of chasing off mosquitoes.

Sirius leaned his head on Remus’ shoulder. He smelled like grass and summertime and sunbaked warmth. “Am I?”

“Mhmm. I’m sure most people would have run screaming by now.”

“I like your family.”

A beat of silence passed; Remus rested his temple against the top of Sirius’ head. “I’m really glad to hear that. They’re weird and loud, but I love them.”

“And I love you.”

“Are you saying I’m weird and loud?”

“On occasion.”

“Asshole,” Remus laughed, giving him a nudge that hardly qualified as more than a gentle sway.

“Language, there are eight million kids around.”

“They’re busy.”

Sirius watched as small group run by in a wave of giggles, all clutching mason jars of fireflies with their names written on masking tape. “Thank you again for asking me to come with you.”

“Like I said, Aunt Jen would—”

“Remus.” He fell quiet. Sirius didn’t remember the last time he said Remus’ full name aloud. “Your family loves you so much. They’re everything I ever wanted growing up, and it means the world that you wanted to share them with me. All they want is to see you happy. It was amazing to finally meet them.”

“They really, really love you,” Remus said softly, his voice a little thick. “I had about twenty people tell me how wonderful you are. They all thanked me for bringing you, and not a single one mentioned the celebrity thing. Even my Uncle Jay didn’t say a word about hockey.”

“He was the one in the jersey?”

“I’ve known him for my entire life and I’ve never seen him without one.”

“Huh.” Sirius tucked his face closer to Remus’ neck and let the sound of the bullfrogs in a distant marsh lull him. “What time is it?”

“Almost eleven. The adults will be up for a while, but the kids will start crashing soon.”

Footsteps on the cool grass rustled to their right and Sirius looked up. “Who wants pie?” Aunt Allison singsonged, breaking their quiet bubble with paper plates and utensils. “This one is blackberry, but we have peach, pumpkin, and a few others on the table if you’re still hungry.”

“Just a small piece, please,” Sirius said.

Allison paused and cocked her head, then burst out laughing. “Oh, you’re funny!”

“I am?”

“Don’t fight it,” Remus whispered.

“You are a growing boy,” Allison said as she cut a thick slice and plonked it onto his plate. “And there’s no such thing as too much pie.”

I’m 26, Sirius wanted to say, though he held it in. “Just a small one for me, as well,” Remus said.

“Ha!” Allison snorted. “You’re already too skinny. Eat your pie or you’ll end up a string bean like your father. The NHL might have given you muscle, but it’s useless if you don’t enjoy some of your favorite aunt’s—”

“—woah, hey now—”

“—pie once in a while.” Allison kissed the tops of their heads once both plates were secure and bowing in the middle. “I’m going to make sure the kids aren’t poking around in the river again. Sleep well, you two.”

Sirius stared down at his plate as she wandered away. “I’m honestly going to die if I eat this.”

“Yeah, please don’t make yourself sick on pie. You really don’t have to eat all of that. The aunts and uncles are convinced that none of us are eating properly once we turn eighteen.”

“Really?”

“I wish I was kidding. You’re going to sleep so well tonight, though.”

As if on cue, Sirius stifled a yawn with the back of his hand and cuddled under Remus’ arm again. A familiar shadow bounded over not two seconds later and he barely held down a groan. “Hey, can I join you?”

Remus shrugged. “ ‘course.”

“Sweet.” Jules settled himself across their laps, staring at the sky with his head pillowed on Sirius’ thigh. “Did you have fun? I’m really glad you could come.”

“I had a great time,” Sirius answered honestly. Now please move on so I can take a nap.

“Mom and dad and me got here yesterday, and Aunt Jen kept checking the door for you guys even though she knew you weren’t coming until today. She was worried you wouldn’t like us, I think.”

“That was never an option, Jules.”

“Yeah, I know.” A devilish grin flickered over his face. “Remus is the weirdest of all of us, and if you want to marry him—”

“Get off,” Remus grumbled, shoving Jules’ legs onto the picnic blanket. “You know, you were a lot nicer before you turned eleven. Can I return you and get a new one? I have the receipt somewhere.”

“Nope.”

“That’s all a birth certificate is, right?” Sirius raised his eyebrows. “If you bring it back in good condition, I hear they give you a ten percent discount.”

Jules scowled. “That’s so not true.”

“How do you think I got Regulus?”

“Isn’t it past your bedtime?” Remus asked with a pointed look. “Run along, problem child.”

“Of the two of us, I’m the least problematic.” Despite his words, Jules clambered to his feet and dusted his hands off over Remus’ head. “I’m not the one that got a secret boyfriend and got engaged in a year. I’m so easy. Mom and dad want two of me.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Remus sighed as he stretched out on the blanket. “They had a second kid because they wanted two of me.”

“You’re adopted.”

Remus cracked one eye open in disbelief. “No, I’m not.”

“How do you know?”

“Because—y’know what, go to bed. Or go find the stampede, I think they’re by the river.”

Sirius whistled lowly as Jules scampered off again. “That was impressive. Isn’t your aunt over there?”

“Yep.”

Realization clicked into place. “She’s going to make him go to bed.”

“Yep.”

“You’re brilliant.”

Remus smiled without opening his eyes, and tugged Sirius down by the sleeve to lay next to him. “You’re just figuring that out now?”

The stars were brighter than anywhere Sirius had ever seen; for a moment, he was struck speechless by the endless rivers of sparkling white overhead. He stared until his eyes burned from dryness, then put his head on Remus’ chest and kept on looking. There was no way he could tear his gaze from it. A few shooting stars streaked across the clear sky and he felt his heart skip a beat in pure amazement when he realized there was nothing else he would wish for in that moment. He could listen to Remus’ heartbeat and the sound of his new family talking against a backdrop of the night, relishing in a full belly and cool wind, and simply stay there for as long as he liked.

#sirius black #remus lupin #julian lupin #coops #lupin family #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #family reunion

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young-dumb-and-vaccinated · 3 years ago

Text

The Sommelier (Hannigram x Female!Reader) pt. 15

Hannibal gives y/n an idea and y/n negotiates.

@viviace @deadman-inc-bikeshop @dovahdokren

Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence

Aftercare was Hannibal's favorite part of the evening. He loved to spend long, indulgent hours pampering his darlings. But usually, there was only one. And that was Will. And Hannibal's clawfoot bathtub, although beautiful, was not big enough for both of you at the same time. Meaning, you had to take turns.

You and Will argued back and forth about who was in more desperate need of aftercare; each advocating for the other, of course. That was Hannibal's fault, really. He should have known better than to ask you to make a decision.

Hannibal emerged from the bathroom, sleeves rolled up and arms soaked to the elbow. "Who is first?"

Before you could speak, Will shoved you forward. "She is."

Hannibal knew better than to let the argument go on, and so did you. You followed him into the bathroom, the smell of lavender bath salts filling the air.

He removed your fluffy robe and watched you step into the warm bath. The water was just hot enough to soothe the aches in your muscles. Hannibal took his seat at the end of the tub where you rested your head. You leaned back and submerged your whole body.

“You have such soft hair.” Hannibal said, pouring a bit of expensive-smelling shampoo in his palm.

“Thanks, I use fabric softener and tumble dry it on low heat.” You answered.

“You have a hard time accepting compliments, don’t you?” He probed, beginning to lather the shampoo into your hair. “Between that and the self-deprecation, I’d say you suffer from low self-esteem.”

You felt yourself melting into him. The hypnotic motions of his hands chipped away at your defenses. “Is that really that surprising?”

“For such an intelligent, sophisticated young beauty?” Hannibal chuckled. “I am surprised you don’t understand your worth.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” You offered. “The fact that a psychotic cokehead fundamentalist Christian cult leader wants me dead tells me I’m doing something right.”

“You are a force of nature, my indulgence.” Hannibal assured you, still massaging your head. “But you don’t need me to tell you that. You already know your power.”

That got you thinking. Would it be so bad to just find a hunting rifle and blow Chase Mulvaney’s head off? What was stopping you? It certainly wasn’t your conscious. All your remaining moral fiber had been ripped to shreds over the course of the last month.

“Tell me something about yourself, Hannibal.” You said, leaning back.

“What would you like to know?” He asked, retracting his hands. He cupped his hands in the water and poured some over your hair.

“Do you ever think about morality?” You said, bluntly.

The question pleasantly surprised him. “Quite a bit, actually. I like to think of myself as a student of philosophy, which deals heavily with the subject of ethics, human behavior, and yes, morality.”

“Do you believe morality is subjective?” you tilted your head.

“There’s not a doubt in my mind about it.” Hannibal smiled. “Those who think otherwise usually exemplify some of the best arguments for subjective morality.”

“Religious nuts like Chase Mulvaney.” You said. “He and millions of others believe in objective morality, but can’t even keep it consistent among themselves.”

“Darling,” Hannibal whispered. “You don’t have to wait for aftercare to talk philosophy with me. I would be happy to do so anytime.”

You spent a half hour in the bath, Hannibal stroking, kissing and cuddling you. As much as you wanted to enjoy the affection, your mind was elsewhere. Perhaps it was just a hyperfixation, or post-multiple-orgasm clarity, but the only thought in your head was that Chase Mulvaney had to die.

Your train of thought was chugging along smoothly until it was derailed by the violent buzzing of your phone against the tile floor. You leaned over the side of the tub, trying to make out the contact name from across the room.

Hannibal dried his hands on a nearby towel and picked the phone up from the ground.

“Who is it?” You asked.

“This number is logged into your phone as just a picture of a...red demon?” Hannibal answered.

“Oh, yeah.” You dropped your head. “I’ll call her back, just let it ring out.”

“Who’s the demon?” Hannibal chuckled.

You stepped out of the bathtub and reached for a towel. “Just somebody I know from work. Probably calling about covering a shift or something.”

“Would that be the same person who believed I was the devil?” Hannibal raised an eyebrow, watching you wrap the towel around yourself.

You were about to say yes, but caught yourself. “No. Just some lady I work with who always refused to share her tips with the buses. Super entitled, total pain in the ass. I’ve been looking for an excuse to tell her off.”

“Well, we can’t keep you from that, now can we.” Hannibal cupped your cheek in his hand and looked at your face admiringly. “There should be a clean nightgown for you on the bed. Please tell Will I’ll be ready for him in a couple minutes.”

“Wow, you really did think of everything.” You rocked back on your heels and swung to your tip toes to give him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll let him know.”

He kissed you back. “Thank you, my indulgence.”

“Just one more thing.” You stopped in the threshold. “Could I please use your computer?”

“I don’t see why not.” Hannibal looked up from the quickly draining tub. “By all means, what’s mine is yours.”

You smiled and blew him a kiss before absconding into the bedroom.

The nightgown he’d laid out for you had far more ruffles and lace than you’d consider appropriate for sleepwear, but it was comfortable and fit you well.

You passed the message along to Will, but hurriedly. You were in a rush to be alone. You had some business to attend to.

You sat at Hannibal's desk, turned on his lamp and logged into your google drive on his computer. While you waited for the content to fully load, you scrolled through your contacts. When you found the demon, you pressed the green dial button.

It didn't take her long to pick up. "[F/N]! Finally, I've been trying to call you all night."

"Yeah, I know." You rolled your eyes. "Some of us have lives to live. Not that you'd know anything about that."

"No need to be snippy." She scolded. "I have an offer for you."

"If it doesn't involve a portion of ad revenue, I'm not interested." You shook your head. "I'm not settling for a flat fee while you make the real money off my experience. My goddamn trauma."

"Sounds like we woke up and chose bitchy today." She teased. "You're not even going to hear me out?"

"Freddie," you began, pulling up a document on the computer. "I happen to have a four-page, comprehensive statement of what happened that night right here. Half of it was cut out for the FBI report."

You could practically hear Freddie drooling already. "And?"

"I won't accept anything under $1200 for it." You finished. "Or 30% of all ad revenue on this article."

"That's not fair." She protested. "Best I can do is $750."

"You made ten times that off my first article." You leaned back in the chair. "Don't try to lowball me, Lounds, I can do this all night."

"Since when were you the assertive type?" She asked, deflecting the conversation.

"Remember when you told me my fifteen minutes of fame was running out and you were my only option to get my story out there?" You recalled.

"At the time, I was right." Freddie contested.

"That was before Chase went from a cokehead to a domestic terrorist." You said. "Now I actually can take it to a more reputable outlet."

"But here you are anyway." She said. "Extorting a small, woman-owned independent news site just for the hell of it. I've got bills to pay, y'know."

"With gaslighting like that, I'm sure they're astronomical." You rolled your eyes. Sighing, you propped your knees against the desk. "Look, I don't hate you, Freddie."

"I don't hate you either." She agreed. "I thought trashing each other was just our mutual love language."

"The only reason I'm considering TattleCrime at all is you." You admitted. "You're loud and unapologetic and it makes people listen to you. I need someone who can take the heat."

"Because you know that mainstream news outlets are going to cut your writing down to maintain the status quo." Freddie finished your thought.

You pursed your lips. "Exactly. You're the only one who's got the cajones to run the whole story."

"I'm flattered." She said, then paused. "If I move some things around, I can probably get you $1000."

You opened a new tab and typed some words into the search bar. You scrolled through the results, leaving Freddie without an answer.

"Hello?" She said. "[F/N]? Did I lose you?"

"How soon can you pay?" You asked.

Your phone buzzed. You had a notification from paypal. A thousand dollars from Fredrica Lounds.

"Right fucking now." She answered.

"You've got yourself a deal." You said, firmly. You typed out Freddie's email address and pushed send. "It's all yours."

#hannibal lecter #hannibal x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal x you #will graham x you #hannibal x will #hannibal x you x will #hannibal x reader x will #will graham x reader #will graham #the sommelier #hannigram #hannigram x you #hannigram x reader #aftercare #fluff #freddie lounds

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wonlouvre · 4 years ago

Text

pairing: doctor!wonwoo x lawyer!female oc genre: modern royalty, arranged marriage, fluff and future angst word count: 3.2k WARNINGS: child trafficking, child labor

a/n: just a disclaimer, i am not that well-versed when it comes to investigations and trial procedures at the court. please do correct me i make a mistake. i hope you enjoy this new part! i think we have about three or four chapters left. ANGST is on the next part :’(

seven: if you can’t believe | masterlist

“On April xx, 20xx, at approximately 10:30 in the morning, two unidentified males entered and held hostage the Emergency Room of the Royal Hospital. The nurse in charge of the information desk said that the two males approached the desk and asked if there were two boys (their identities are yet to be confirmed) admitted to the hospital. They claimed that they’re their guardians and wish to have them discharged and transferred to a different hospital. Based on their description, the nurse confirmed that there were two boys who came to the hospital earlier in the morning. However, the nurse informed them that they are not cleared to be discharged yet as per doctor’s orders and if they wish to discuss with the doctor-in-charge, they can. They only need to present IDs or any documentation to prove that they are indeed the guardian.

They did present IDs however, it was not valid and accepted by the hospital. The two males started demanding to see the two boys and insisted that they will recognize who they were. At that point, the nurse said the two males’ were beginning to raise their voices. The nurse asked them to calm down and wait patiently for the doctor-in-charge to arrive. That’s when the two males pulled out handguns and threateningly pointed it at the nurse.

The Royal Hospital’s security was alerted and immediately called the Royal Police. The hospital’s security was able to distract the two suspects until one of the police officers fired a shot. Fortunately, no hospital staff and patients were harmed. It is yet to be identified how the armed suspects were able to enter the hospital undetected.

The Royal Police cannot release the names of the suspects and any other details as the investigation is still ongoing. However, we are looking at the direction that this could possibly be a case of child trafficking and the two suspects are perpetrators.

Please be rest assured that we are committed to solve this case and hold everyone involved accountable. We ask the general public to only believe verified information and wait for the official statements that the Royal Police will release accordingly.

Thank you for your understanding.”

You’re both crestfallen and angry. This paper would probably rip apart from the way your hand is deathly gripping it. It’s never easy to read and hear about crimes committed against innocent people. It’s never easy because they don’t deserve to go through the torment, harm and trauma. You wish you could avoid it, but it would be wrong and unfair to the victims. So no matter how heartbreaking or uncomfortable it is, you read and you listen because you have to be aware of it. You have to know and not turn a blind eye because they deserve to be heard and fought for.

This black and white statement of the Royal Police is nothing but horrible. How did the kingdom let this pass? For a kingdom that’s so proud of its enforcement of strict laws, how did this crime happen right under its nose?

It weighs on your heart and ever since you’ve taken hold of this piece of paper, you don’t know how to continue on with the day anymore. You lean your head against the backrest and stare up the ceiling. You breathe in and breathe out, getting yourself together to think, to function.

Something is telling you that there is more to this hostage taking at the hospital and this case of child trafficking. And you desperately need to know. You’re already aware that the authorized and concerned people are doing their job already, but why is it drawing your attention?

You release an exasperated sigh and massage your right brow. It’s been twitching due to the boiling anger inside you and you just want it to stop. The only way for that to happen is to find answers. Picking up your phone among the pile of papers, you dial the number of the person you’re sure that can give you any information, big or small.

First ring. Second ring. Thi---, “Your Highness.”

You’re quick to your feet the moment he answered. “Hey Seungkwan. How have you been?”

Boo Seungkwan is the man to call. A persistent and assertive prosecutor and person in general. Definitely one of the brightest classmates and lawyers you have ever met. It’s no surprise that he’s hired by the Supreme Prosecutor’s Office as a prosecutor. He knows what he’s doing and more than doing, he knows how to fight to the end.

He actually wanted you to join together and you considered the offer. However, due to your position in the kingdom, you realized that practicing in private is more suitable for you.

“Well,” he says and pauses, “I have been better. How about you, Your Highness?”

“You know that you can call me Y/N, right?” You remind him, offering a smile even though he won’t be able to see it. “We went to law school and passed the exams together.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he mumbles, not a big fan of throwbacks. “To what do I owe this phone call anyway?”

“About the recent statement of the Royal Police, is there anything you’d be willing to share with me?” You requested and faced the window that’s overlooking the city.

You hear him chuckle on the other line. “I knew you’d ask. You do know that I’m risking my job as a prosecutor because I can’t say no to you right?”

“Is it something… big?” You ask nervously, biting the insides of your cheek.

A beat of silence passes and you can tell it is without having him say it. You think your heart is going to explode anytime soon.

“Big or not, it’s a case and a crime,” he retorts. “But this is something that Their Majesties need to brace themselves for,” he continues, warning laced on his voice. “It can shake the cabinet as well because we can tell that one, and if not, some of them are involved.”

There it is. The cold hard truth. There was nothing else to say. It’s more than obvious that the kingdom’s cabinet has been compromised and it will blow right at your family’s faces. You don’t even need to doubt it. But still, your blood runs cold at the thought.

“Thank you Seungkwan,” you say and breathe out a defeated sigh. “Let’s meet for coffee some other time.”

You hear him say “anytime” and then end the call.

You toss your phone back on the table and cross your arms as if you’re trying to hug yourself. Your eyes are out of focus and your mind has questions that need answers. This case is not even about protecting your family’s reputation anymore. It’s about your family protecting its people, its children, from this.

You’ll probably never forgive yourself if you and the rest of your family have failed to do its promise and duty.

“Your Highness?” Jeongyeon knocks on the wooden door and calls for you, pulling you back to the ground. “Are you ready to go?”

You frown and tilt your head to the side, confused. You don’t remember having errands outside the office today.

Jeongyeon notices your confusion and says, “Your monthly checkup is today.”

Oh.

“I’m sorry. It must have slipped my mind,” you say and quickly gather your things so that you can leave now. “Thank you, Jeongyeon.”

She nods, understanding what you meant. She keeps the door open and waits for you to pass through.

What the hell am I going to do? You ask yourself. A million thoughts has started running inside your mind from reading the statement up to finding out that this case could potentially be a crime syndicate. A crime syndicate that the Royal Family failed to prevent. Every day, there are crimes that get tried and solved in this kingdom. But for this particular crime, it doesn’t happen every day and it shouldn’t be in the first place. But, your kingdom must have grown complacent because here it is, a ticking time bomb that will explode anytime soon.

How did this happen and who allowed this to happen?

“Your stress levels are quite high compared to your previous check-up, Your Highness.” The doctor gives you a knowing smile after reading the results of your tests today.

“It’s because of work,” you make an excuse and return his smile with a sheepish one while scratching the back of your neck. “I think.”

The doctor tried to muffle his laughter, but you can hear him snicker nonetheless. He just nods and mutters an, “alright,” and proceeds to write down the results and updates of this consultation.

“Although there is nothing to be concerned about, I still advise you to take things slow,” he once again points out the reminder that he gave from the first time you got admitted. “Remember, I’ll never get tired of saying it.”

You nod and purse your lips in a smile. “I promise I’ll try.”

He raises his eyebrows at your answer, but lets it go in the end.

“I think we are good,” he says and leans his elbows on the table, hands clasped together. “Let’s go back to your yearly check-up, like the usual.”

“Thank you for your time.” You stand up and reach your hand out to shake his. “I’ll see you next year, then.”

The doctor replies with his smile still intact, “I will be here.”

You think about taking the rest of the afternoon off and just go back to your apartment. You suddenly don’t feel so good and present, for lack of a better word. You just want to think alone, away from any distractions.

On your way out to the door, you pull your phone out from your bag to call Jeongyeon. This floor of the hospital is private and reserved only for your family. It’s something you’re not proud of and you should probably talk to Their Majesties about it. You sigh and hold your phone to your ear as you proceed to the elevator. You're only a few steps away when a familiar voice makes you stop.

“Hey.”

You jump in surprise, almost dropping your phone and bag. You turn around and you’re not so surprised anymore to see a grinning Wonwoo with hands inside the pockets of his white coat. With a roll of your eyes, you finally relaxed your tensed shoulders and walked towards him.

He meets you halfway and holds his hand out. You happily take it, making it easy for him to tug you close to his chest, bringing you in for a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck while his around your waist. Just like that, his breath against your skin made all your worries vanish.

“What are you doing here?” You ask, distancing from him but not letting go.

“I knew that you’d be here,” he answers, keeping his hold on your arms. “Had to see you.”

You scoff and give his shoulder a light shove. “Shut up. We were inseparable until our last day at your hometown and yet you still want to see me. Aren’t you sick and tired of my face yet?”

He pinches your cheek and kisses the tip of your nose. “Of course not.”

“Well, I’m leaving,” you announce and let go of him, reluctantly (as always). “You should probably get back to work.”

Wonwoo doesn’t let you move any further and drags his hand from your arm to your hand, swaying it from side to side as he whines out, “But, I’m on my break. Can’t you stay a little longer?”

You don’t really give in easily and it takes a lot of persuasion before you actually do. Jeongyeon can’t even convince you to stop going home late. But with just one request and pleading eyes, Wonwoo has you standing inside his office.

It’s spacious, but a tad bit messy. There is lots of paper. In fact mountains of them, which you are very familiar with already. A wall of books is on one side of the room while three respective desks are on the other side. There’s a window, which is good, you can see some natural lighting. And of course, a small pantry for coffee and snacks.

Wonwoo offered his chair for you to sit on as he prepared you something to drink. You still look around and try to keep yourself occupied. Your eyes trail on his desk eventually and you can’t help but smile. If every corner of this room is in disarray, Wonwoo’s desk seems to be the only area that is not. There’s nothing much on it except for a jar of pens, pencils and highlighters, a notepad and some bookmarked books.

“You’ve met Soonyoung, right?” He asks, coming back with two warm cups. Coffee for him and tea for you. “I share this office with him and another doctor.”

You nod and take a quick sip. You noticed that it’s almost lunch time on the clock above the door and wondered, “Is this all you’re going to have for lunch?”

“I had some cheeseburger earlier this morning, so I’m good,” he answers and leans against the edge of the desk. “How about you? Are you hungry?”

You smile and shake your head no.

Then, it got quiet.

It’s not an uncomfortable silence, but you think Wonwoo can sense something else by the way his eyebrows raise as if he’s waiting for you to say something more. He sips on his coffee one more time before placing the cup down on the table. Afterwards, he takes matters into his own hands and swivels the chair you're sitting on by the armrest towards him, catching you off guard.

His actions almost made you drop your drink and you thought for a moment if you should punch him again. “What are you doing?”

Wonwoo just gives you a mischievous smirk before leaning down to kiss your lips. Your eyes dilate in surprise while the rest of your body freezes. You’re just thankful you’re already sat on the chair, otherwise your legs would give up and you’d fall. When you don’t resist, his kiss deepens, demanding. But it didn’t go any further than a few more pecks here and there. You let him be until he decides to pull away, but not without giving one last long smooch.

“What was that for?” You ask, suddenly shy.

Wonwoo just nonchalantly shrugs. “Just wanted to kiss you.”

“You startled me!” You hiss and slap his arm.

Wonwoo has started to take pleasure in seeing you all flustered and shy. He finds it cute and he’ll take every chance he gets just to see it. But he knows there’s something bothering you and he’s hoping you give him the chance to hear you out.

“Talk to me,” he says while crouching, almost sitting down on the floor to meet your height. “What’s on that brilliant head of yours?”

You roll your eyes at his choice of words but give in nonetheless, “It’s the hostage that took place previously. There’s a new update about it.”

Wonwoo exhales and moves to massage your thighs. “I read about it briefly earlier.”

You nod and let the silence engulf the two of you once again.

“Listen, the kids they we’re talk---”

“Wonwoo!”

You jump when the door of the office suddenly bolts open with two unfamiliar boys dressed in hospital gowns running inside. They’re quickly followed by a panting Soonyoung who gives the two of you an apologetic smile. Wonwoo immediately stands up as they excitedly dash towards him while chanting his name.

“We heard you were on a break, can we play now? Please?” The little one, which you assumed was the youngest, pleads and hops in the hopes of Wonwoo carrying him. The other one, who’s much taller, does the same but he’s only clinging to his arms.

“I’m sorry if I interrupted something, Your Highness,” Soonyoung says (you’re sure he’s teasing) and gives you a salute. “These boys never get tired and I have no idea how.”

You stand up from the chair too and try to get a good look on the boy’s faces, but you couldn’t because their attention is only on Wonwoo.

“We’ll play, alright?” Wonwoo tries to calm them down.”But I want you to meet someone special first.”

Your heart skips a beat meanwhile Soonyoung’s jaw drops in a silent squeal.

“They were the kids from the statement,” Wonwoo warrily says while making the boys face you.

Statement?

Your heart skipped one moment and the next it dropped to your stomach. You didn’t expect it to be them. You really hoped it wasn’t them. You don’t even know how sure you are that it’s them. But when you finally meet their eyes, these boys don’t seem to be so unfamiliar anymore.

It’s them.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Wonwoo asks, suddenly concerned by the sudden downcast of your face.

“Wonwoo...” you weakly whisper.

They’re one of the children adopted from the orphanage.

“Can you ask the orphanage if they can give us a copy of photographs displayed at their gallery?”

A phone call has never felt so dreadful. You can’t help but bite your nails as you listen to Jeongyeon adhere to your request. A lump has already formed on your throat and you don’t even know how you’re going to swallow it.

You slide your phone back to your pocket when Jeongyeon said she’d get back to you shortly. You turn around from where you were standing and see Wonwoo and Soonyoung playing with the two boys. It’s bittersweet. For one, you’re glad they are free and happy and on the other hand, it doesn’t sit right why they have to go through terrible and unimaginable things just so that they can be.

And it doesn’t help that it all happened here.

Wonwoo told you how they got to know them and how he had asked the hospital to keep them here in the meantime, in coordination with Social Services of course. He didn’t need the hostage taking or the police’s statement to know what’s going on because his guts already told him the moment he saw the state of the boys. But then again, what happened only confirmed what he feared the most.

Wonwoo deviates his attention to you and notices your lost gaze. By the looks of it, he’s aware that this is bothering you. He gives Sam’s hair a ruffle before standing up and walking to where you are.

“Are you okay?” He asks, reaching his hand out to softly squeeze your arm.

“Yeah,” you affirm, but the palm against your forehead doesn’t seem to agree. “I just… I can’t believe this.”

“It’s okay,” he tries to soothe your distress with his hand cradling your face. “I mean, it’s not. But, it’s not your fault.”

Why does it feel like it is?

You couldn’t ask him that out loud so you just give him a nod instead. Wonwoo knows you’re hesitant to believe him and he doesn’t like it. He takes your hands and squeezes them.

“Look at me,” he commands and when you don't, he lifts your chin up himself. “I’m confident this will be solved in no time. Have faith in your people and yourself, hmm? ”

“Okay,” you answer and that makes Wonwoo smile.

Okay. You’re going to stop wallowing in your own uncertainty. You draw your eyes back at the boys and at this moment, you promised that punishment will be inflicted to everyone responsible for their suffering.

No matter what it takes.

#seventeen #wonwoo #seventeen scenarios #wonwoo scenarios #seventeen scenario #wonwoo scenario #wonwoo fluff #seventeen fluff #wonwoo imagines #wonwoo imagine #seventeen imagines #seventeen imagine #seventeen fanfic #wonwoo fanfic #wonwoo seventeen #seventeen wonwoo #fic: ifliys

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jungwonenthusiast · 4 years ago

Text

Friends Don’t Lie Ch. 7, 8, and Epilogue

A/N: This is the end of the series now I hope u guys enjoyed it, it was a lot of fun to write :)

Pairing: Jungwon x reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: major character death

Based on: Stranger Things

Chapter 7

“Okay but before we get to the gate, we need to know where in the Upside Down he is.” Jake says then turns to you. “Can you do the radio thingy again?”

“That won’t tell me where he is.” you say. “I need to go to the bath.”

“The bath?” they all say.

After some explaining, Jake finally gets the jist.

“So what the hell is it?” Jay asks.

“It’s a sensory deprivation tank.”

“And why does she need that?” Heeseung says.

“Because it let’s her be alone with just her consciousness. I guess it’ll help her see more in the Void.” Jake explains.

“Well how do we get it to?” Sunghoon asks.

“We can’t,” Jake replies. “We have to make one.”

“Do we do it in an actual bath tub?” Niki asks.

“No,” Jake chuckles. “Heeseung do you still have that kiddie pool we used when we were babies.”

He nods.

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Jungwon puts duct tape over a pair of scuba goggles as the rest of the boys fill up the pool and steal the bags of salt the school keeps in case of a snow storm.

“Is this good?” he hands them to you and you nod.

“I’m gonna get these clothes wet.” you look down at your outfit that Jungwon took from Jooyoung’s closet.

“It’s fine, Heeseung brought some clothes you can change into later.”

You’re sitting together in a classroom and his knees are only an inch away from touching yours.

“You’re very brave, you know?” he says and you tilt your head. “Like way braver than any super hero.”

“Super hero?” you ask. “Didn’t Jake call me that once? Is that a mean name?”

“No no no,” he shakes her name. “It’s a compliment. A super hero is someone who can do things that other humans can’t, and they use their powers to save people. My favorite is Scarlet Witch.”

“Scarlet Witch.” you say and he nods.

“You’re way cooler than her though. We should give you a superhero name.”

“Like what?” you ask.

“Hmm,” he ponders for a moment and then his eyes light up. “How about Bird of the Night.”

“Why bird? Why night?” you frown. “Do I look like a bird?” you touch your face and he laughs.

“No no, you don’t. I chose bird because you remind me of an owl.” he says.

“An owl? Why?”

“Because owls are wise, and you know a lot of things,” he says. “And I chose night because we met at night.”

You nod, understanding his decision.

“What would your superhero name be?” you ask and he looks down.

“I don’t know, normal guy of the normal day.”

“What do you mean? Are you saying that you’re not super?” you frown.

He looks at you. “I don’t have any powers like you do.”

“Yeah you do,” you say and he raises an eyebrow. “You made me laugh, remember? No one has done that before.”

He smiles and looks away.

“Your cheeks are doing that thing again-” you point and he stands up abruptly.

“We should go check up on the other guys.”

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Jungwon holds your hand for leverage as you step into the pool. You sit down in the warm water before pulling the goggles over your eyes.

You relax into the water and allow yourself to float peacefully.

You enter the part of your mind that you haven't visited in a while. It’s completely dark, and it goes on for miles and miles.

You approach a small wooden fort and read off the sign.

“Castle Sunoo.” you say and Heeseung scoots towards you.

“Can you go inside?” he asks frantically. “Is Sunoo there?”

You slowly pull away the white sheet, revealing a boy curled up in a ball and shivering from the cold.

“Sunoo.” you say and Heeseung gasps.

“Tell him- tell him I’m coming for him,” he says. “Tell him to stay put and that I’m coming.”

You kneel down next to Sunoo. He’s so pale and his lips are purple. His blond hair is stuck to his forehead and you gently push it away. His eyes open, but barely.

“You’re hyung, he’s coming for you.” you tell him.

“Heeseung hyung?” he croaks and it comes through the walkie talkie.

Heeseung’s heart twists. “I’m gonna find you Sunoo, just stay put. I- I love you so much.”

“He said that he’s gonna find you, and that he loves you.” you tell him.

“Hurry.” Sunoo whispers.

You begin to hear a low growling and just as you realize what’s happening, Sunoo and the castle begin to disintegrate into the air. You grab onto his hand.

“Sunoo no! Wait!” you cry. “Not yet not yet!”

But it’s too late. You’re alone again. In that deep dark abyss that you thought you left in the bad place. You can never leave it though, it’s a part of you.

You sit up and tug the goggles off your head.

“You okay?” Jungwon scrambles to grab your arm and you lean into him, shaken up from seeing Sunoo just disappear like that.

Heeseung pulls you into his arms, not caring that you’re getting his shirt soaked.

“Thank you,” he whispers. “I know that must’ve been scary, you did so good.”

You rest your forehead on his chest, already feeling tired.

“Here you should get out now.” Jungwon interrupts and grabs your hand.

He pulls you out of the pool and wraps a towel around your shoulders. He hands you a sweatshirt and a pair of jeans.

“Let’s go to the bathroom so you can change.” He takes your hand and leads you to the lockers.

He turns around as you peel wet clothes off your cold body.

“So what’d you see?” he asks quietly.

“I saw him… in his fort.” you reply. “He was curled up on the floor. So blue. So cold.”

You tug the gray crewneck over your head and pull the jeans up your legs.

“Is he… okay?”

“No,” you say. “He doesn’t have much time left.” you tap on his shoulder and he turns around.

Your hair is dripping and pooling wet patches on the sweatshirt.

“Your hair is still wet.” he says and you shrug.

He grabs the towel and places it over your head, scrunching around to soak the water up. He throws the towel onto a bench and then pulls you against him, chest to chest. He rests his cheek on your hair and rubs your back.

“What?” you ask oblivious to his affection.

He pulls away. “I figured you were cold. I was trying to share some body heat.”

“Body heat.” you say and he nods.

You wrap your arms around his waist and embrace him. “I am cold.”

CHAPTER 8

A/N: There's a bit where Jungwon is thinking about how he wants to touch the reader. Please know that this isn’t sexual. I wanted to portray the overwhelming feeling of liking/loving someone so much that you just want to feel them all the time and be connected in a way that isn’t through words. This thought he has is endearing, not sexual.

“Well what do we do now?” Jake asks.

“We need to go to the Upside Down.” Heeseung says.

“How do even do that, we’ve been trying to figure that out forever.” Jay says.

“Okay well we know that the gate would create a lot of power right?” Sunghoon says. “Enough to disturb the electromagnetic field.” Jake nods. “So what if we…”

“Compass.” Jake says. “We need compasses.” he gets up and rushes out of the gym.

“Where are you going?” Niki calls out.

“Come with me!” Jake says and Niki dashes after him.

“So who’s gonna go?” Jungwon asks. “Someone needs to stay with El, she’s too tired.”

You shake your head. “I can go.”

He groans. “We’ve had this argument like three thousand times.

“Well she can be our weapon.” Sunghoon says.

“She’s human you know, not a machine gun.” Jungwon says.

“She’s been low on juice for a whole day now, what if she can’t help us.�� Jay says.

“Why do you guys talk about me like I’m not here.” you rolls your eyes. “I can go, I promise.”

Jake and Niki come running into the gym with their hands and pockets full of compasses.

They throw them onto the floor.

“What the hell.” Heeseung sneers.

“Look at this.” Jake points at the arrow. “It’s pointing south.”

“What?” Sunghoon’s brows knit.

“The sun rises in the east and sets in the west, making north that way.” he points behind him. “But all of the compasses are pointing south.”

The group looks at him, confused.

“Remember, the gate is so powerful that it can manipulate the magnetic field. So whatever these compasses are pointing to is where the gate should be.” Jake explains.

“Ohhh,” the group vocalizes.

“Let’s go then.” Heeseung leaps to his feet and pulls his keys out of his pocket.

Jungwon helps you stand up and you link your arm around his as you walk to the car.

“Left,” Jake says. “Okay now keep going.”

Five minutes pass when Niki asks. “How are we gonna know when we get there?” And right on que, you all arrive at Hawkins National Laboratory. Jungwon feels your arm tense around his.

“The fuck is this place?” Niki asks, sitting on Jay’s lap.

“The lab, my dad told me it’s a government thing.” Jungwon says.

“We can’t go in there.” You whisper and Jungwon turns to you.

“Why not?”

“Bad place.” you say and he cocks his head.

“This is the bad place? This is where you come from?” he asks and you nod. “We’re probably gonna die if we go in then.”

“I don’t care, Sunoo’s in there, I need to find him.” Heeseung unlocks the door and you drop your head into your hands.

“No no no no no,” you mumble to yourself. Jungwon turns to you and grabs your hands as the boys quietly exit the car, snooping around the building gate.

“We have to go in, we don’t have any other choice.” he says.

“I don’t wanna go back. It’s too scary.” you whimper.

“I know, but we’ll be with you the whole time.” he tries to assure you. He hadn’t styled his hair today and it’s poking into his eyes. “Heeseung is tall, he can be our shield.”

You giggle.

“And once we save Sunoo and this is all over we can listen to my vinyls like I told you we would and I’ll tell my parents about you so that you won’t be a secret anymore and we can hang out all the time and- and I was wondering if you wanted to go to the Snow Ball with me.” he says timidly.

“What’s the Snow Ball?” you ask.

“It’s this stupid dance we have at our school. I’ve only ever been to homecoming but I thought it’d be fun for us to go.” he explains, still bashful.

You touch his cheek and he looks at you. “You should tell me what this is. Is it some kind of condition?”

“Oh,” he looks away and giggles. “It just means that I’m… I’m nervous.”

“Why are you nervous?” you ask him.

Jungwon

He knows what he wants to say.

“BECAUSE YOU’RE SO PRETTY AND COOL AND I NEVER THOUGHT I’D LIKE A GIRL UNTIL I MET YOU. I LOVE YOUR VOICE AND YOUR FACE AND EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. I WANT TO BE WITH YOU ALL THE TIME I WANT TO KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU. I WANT TO TOUCH YOU AND HOLD YOU. I WANT TO SHOW YOU EVERYTHING I KNOW I THINK I LOVE YOU.”

But of course he doesn’t say that.

Instead he settles with a trembling “Because… I like you.”

You smile. “I like you too.”

His heart leaps but then he realizes that you don’t understand what he’s saying. “Who else do you like?”

“I like a lot of people.” you reply and he squints.

“Like who?”

“Mm, I like Jay and Jake and Sunghoon and Niki and Heeseung.”

He shakes his head. “I don’t like you like that.”

You tilt your head. “What do you mean?”

“Uhmm,” he thinks for a second. “I like you in a different way. Like like like.”

You Sit there, confused.

“Can you close your eyes?” he asks and you giggle.

“Why?”

Your giggle makes him giggle. “Because I can’t do this when you’re looking at me.”

“Okay.” you close them.

He takes a deep breath. You can do it, don’t be a pussy, he thinks. He leans into you and plants a short kiss onto your cheek.

Your eyes fly open and you look so surprised and adorable he could die.

Then he leans in again and pecks you gently on the lips. His heart is basically sprinting now.

You smile and he does too. Your smile is intoxicating. He wants to fall into it.

He doesn’t even get a chance to speak because of the banging on the window.

Jungwon opens the door.

“Come on, we need help!” Niki ushers you two into the lab.

“How’d you guys even get in?!” Jungwon whisper yells and you two run after him.

“Heeseung hyung found a back door. We literally almost died.” Niki says. He opens the door. “Here, go go.”

You guys run through the hallway. There’s two men passed out on the floor. Looks like Heeseung's work, Jungwon thinks.

“Go down the stairs!” Niki orders, leading you to this underground dungeon.

“What the fuck,” Jungwon whispers as he lays his eyes on the casm on the wall, covered in these indescribable vines and drippings of green goop.

He sees Heeseung stepping into a yellow hazmat suit. You run towards him and Jungwon follows.

“Here,” Heeseung hands you and Jungwon each a suit.

Jungwon’s palms are sweaty from all the adrenaline. “O-okay.” He tugs the suit up.

There’s banging and shouting coming from the glass chamber.

“Hurry, they’re coming!” Heeseung rushes everyone as you all get suited up.

You don’t waste a minute walking through the cavity.

You hold onto Jungwon’s hand as you and the boys run through the dark and foggy scene, hoping to get far enough that the staff can’t get you.

The Upside Down is just as you imagined. It’s Hawkins, but everything is wrong. It feels like death.

“The castle is this way!” Heeseung points to the dense forest ahead.

You don’t have time to freak out and think about how you’re in an alternate universe. The only thing keeping you tied to reality is Jungwon’s hand in yours.

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

You run through branches and leaves and eventually get to the fort.

Heeseung throws the curtain open to find Sunoo just as you saw him earlier, curled up and hopeless.

Heeseung drops to his knees and tries to shake him awake. The rest of the boys follow suit.

“Sunoo, Sunoo it’s me, it’s your hyung!” he yelps but Sunoo stays motionless.

“Sunoo? Sunoo man it’s us.” Jay says.

Jake takes his mask off and brings an ear to Sunoo’s face. “He isn’t breathing.”

“Fuck, oh my god-” Heeseung wails.

“It’s fine it’s fine,” Jake leans over Sunoo and holds two hands on his chest, “Just breathe into his mouth when I tell you to.”

Jake begins to pump on the boy’s chest as Heeseung rips his oxygen mask off. Your grip on Jungwon’s hand tightens anxiously.

“Twenty three, twenty four, twenty five, twenty six, okay go!” Jake says and Heeseung blows air into Sunoo’s blue lips.

“Keep going.” Jake says but Sunoo doesn’t wake up. “Please Sunoo,” tears begin to drip down Heeseung’s face. “I love you so much, I need you. You’re all I have.”

You notice Jungwon beginning to hiccup and you lean into him.

“Come one man,” Jake says.

Heeseung breathes one more time into Sunoo’s mouth when he coughs.

“Sunoo?! Sunoo it’s me!” Heeseung says, delighted. The whole group leans forward to get a better look.

Sunoo’s eyes crack open. “Hyung?”

Heeseung pulls the boy into his arms, petting his hair and kissing his forehead. All of the boys bear hug him but he’s too weak to fully understand what’s going on.

You’re still embracing Sunoo when you hear a low growl.

“Wait,” you say as the boys continue to celebrate Sunoo’s survival. “Shut up!” you say louder. “I hear something.”

You slowly stand up try to locate the sound. Your heart drops into your stomach.

“The demogorgon, it’s here.” you can hear them all hold their breath. You take your mask off and unzip your suit before stepping out of it, you feel like it’ll hold you back.

Just as you’re about to walk out, the monster tears at the fort and it comes tumbling down.

You muster some strength and send the thing flying before walking towards it. You know what this will do to you, but it’s the only choice you have. Maybe you’re a fool too, just like Jungwon.

You hold a hand out and muster all of the strength you have left. And as the Demogorgan slowly starts to disintegrate into the dirt, so does your spirit. You drop to the ground.

Jungwon

He runs to you.

He can’t hear anything over the thought of you.

He cradles you in his arms. He can't even imagine you leaving him.

Your eyes are barely open and your fingers are already turning to ash.

“El no! No no no!” he holds you against him, desperate to keep you here. “What about the Snow Ball! What about- what about everything?”

You smile a small smile and his heart shatters like glass, the small fragments puncturing every one of his organs.

He tugs his mask off. “Please no, I-” he holds your face in his hands and kisses you sweetly one last time.

You wipe the tears off his cheeks with your thumb. And just like that, you’re gone. Like you never existed. Just more flecks of dust in this dust filled world.

Jungwon doesn’t realize that he’s being dragged to his feet. He feels deaf like the scenes in war movies where a bomb goes off and they can’t hear anything but ringing. He’s stuck in a haze. It’s like being drunk but being drunk off of acetone and arsenic, not alcohol.

Jooyoung’s arms are around him for the first time in years. There are tears streaming down her face and she’s saying things that Jungwon can’t understand. All he can see is the look on your face before you disappeared. He could tell that you were in pain but you were hiding it with a smile. He cries into Jooyoung's shoulder, wishing that it was yours instead.

EPILOGUE

The police got involved, and then the FBI, then the government, then the president. Jungwon and the boys were on the news at least fifty times.

Sunoo seems fine and things are back to normal. Except for you. Sometimes he’ll catch glances of someone who looks just like you and have to do a triple take. All the clothes you ever borrowed from him are in a box in his closet. Everything reminds him of you: the basement, his walkie talkie, his bed, his posters, the living room, anyone with the same colored hair or eyes as you, even his own face reminds him of you. Every time he looks in the mirror he remembers the places you touched him. His cheeks, his neck, his shoulders, his waist, his hands, his lips.

He went through a phase of being angry about what you did. He hooked up with as many girls as he could, trying to forget you. But all it did was make him feel dirty, and like he was betraying you.

“You have to move on eventually,” Jay said.

But he didn’t think he could.

Know one could compare to you. No matter how smart or how popular or how cool, you were always better.

Jungwon’s washing his face when the light flickers. Then again, and again, and again in a peculiar pattern. He tries to remember the morse code he learned when he was in boy scouts. He stands there, trying to calm his heart as he translates the lights. I, M, I, S, S, Y, O, U.

I miss you.

taglist: @shawkneecaps @wonwoosh @strwberrydinosaur @ferxanda

#enhypen angst #Jungwon angst #enhypen fluff #Jungwon fluff #Jungwon x reader #enhypen x reader

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mediocre-writerr · 4 years ago

Text

witchcraft [hope mikaelson]

Hope Mikaelson x fem reader

Requested: Hello!! I saw that you write for the Vampire Diaries and the Originals, but I didn’t see any for legacies. But if you’re willing I was wondering if you could write a Hope x fem reader where the reader is human and you can take it from there :)

Hello friend! I love the Legacies and just caught up with all of it so I am willing to write for them now! I hope you enjoy!

*not my gif*

It was another late night shift for you at the Mystic Grill. Your boss told you that you had to work later on school nights to make up for not being able to work morning shifts due to school.

You didn’t mind, you had the whole afternoon to get homework done and study. But when it came to sleep, lets just say you had little to none. However, on most late nights a beautiful girl would walk in restless.

She was brunette with the most piercing blue eyes you have ever seen. At first you were surprised how comfortable she was just walking around late into the hours, but as you got to know her you knew she could handle herself on her own.

You came to learn that her name was Hope. And you were intrigued by her mysteriousness. She would always leave at the most random times and you never saw her outside of the grill. It’s like she randomly disappears.

One night you went out to look for her, but she was gone as soon as she walked out the door. It was odd.

You may rarely see her, but the times you two shared together is all you think about sometimes. Whether it’s in class listening to a boring history lesson or at work when no one is coming in.

“Mystery girl! You’re back!” you exclaim as you see the brunette come and sit at the bar top in front of you.

She has a small little smile on her face and when you mean small, it was small. You can’t recall seeing a full on smile from her since you met her and she’s been here quite often.

“Do you want the usual?” you ask and she nods, “Got it. One peanut butter blast with whip cream at the bottom plus a side of fries coming right up!”

The mystery girl finally speaks up, “You remember.” she says another small smile on her face and you nod.

“Of course I do. You’re my favorite.” you say with a little wink before going back to washing the glasses with your handy dandy rag.

After a few moments of comfortable silence, you hear the ding from the kitchen indicating that her food was ready. You put your rag away and grab her food from the kitchen window placing them neatly in front of her. But not before you steal a fry and plop it into your mouth.

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that.” she says with a smile, but this time it was a little bigger.

You place your finger up to her lips, “Keep it down I do it with every customer and I still haven’t gotten fired yet.” you say jokingly.

Her smile is replaced with a smirk, “I’m not special then?” she asks teasingly.

“Oh no. You’re very special, like I said you are my favorite.” you smile at the girl with your flirtatious demeanor, you take another fry from her plate.

You spend the rest of the night talking and hanging out with each other. It was a lot easier to do when no one else came into the restaurant.

“Can I show you my favorite spot? My shift is just about over and the sun is about to rise, so I know you probably have to leave soon anyway.” you ask her tying your apron up before throwing it into the dirty apron bin.

Mystery girl raises her eyebrows up, “You’re very observant.” she says and you nod.

“Like I’ve said you’re my favorite.” you say shrugging and she smirks at you again. You stick your hand out and smile at her, “So shall we?” you ask.

She takes your hand and you guide her outside into the middle of the square. There was a nice little gazebo that was just built, ever since it was built you like to sit outside and drink coffee as the sun rises.

You reach the gazebo and use your hand that’s in hers to spin her around. After she spins you pull her in towards you as you release her hand and place your hands on her hips. As if on instinct she places her hands on the side of your neck.

Your faces were mere inches apart as you just stared into those beautiful blue eyes. She smiled at you the first big and genuine smile you’ve ever seen from her, “Well that was smooth.”

“I try.” you say to her and you guys sway together even when there is no music.

You begin to lean in closer to her, so close you can feel her hot breath on your lips. She looks into your eyes and back down at your lips. The mystery girl is about to attach her lips onto yours when all of a sudden her phone goes off.

She rolls her eyes at the sound of her phone before stepping away to have a small conversation, “I’m sorry. I uh I have to go.” she says and you nod slightly disappointed, but you hide it with a smile.

“Duty calls?” you ask and she nods sheepishly.

Probably the first time you’ve ever seen her unsure. She’s always so confident, “Sadly.”

“Ah well I’ll see you soon hopefully?” you say more as a question than an answer.

She steps closer to you before planting a kiss to your cheek, “You will.” She begins to walk away when all of a sudden the realization hits you.

“Wait!” you yell from where you’re standing, “What’s your name?” you ask.

“I’m Hope!” she says showing me her genuine smile, “I’ll see you later Y/N.” Hope replies with a little wave and you smile to yourself.

Hope. What a beautiful name.

You’re snapped out of your beautiful memory when a customer smacks the bar top in front of you.

“Oh I’m sorry sir.” you say shaking your head, “What can I get for you?”

The grill was empty. The manager had to run home to a family emergency and assured him that you would be okay to close up. He was hesitant, but eventually left so the grill can be kept open.

“I don’t want anything on the menu.” the man says and you look at him puzzled.

“I’m sorry about that sir, what would you-” you begin before he cuts you off.

All of a sudden you feel yourself being pushed up against the wall in an instant. The man’s hands were on your neck. His eyes were darkened and his teeth turned into fangs. You tried to let out a little squeal, but his grip was so strong nothing could come out.

“Where is she?!” he yelled and you had no idea who he was talking about. You’re about to try and ask who, but his grip tightens and you can feel yourself losing breath, “Where is Hope Mikaelson?!” he asks again.

“Right over here asshole!” she yells as the doors flip open.

An older man with her this time, he was carrying what looked to be a crossbow. But your vision began to blur as your air was fading more and more.

“Hope do the spell.” the older man says and she nods.

Hope begins saying words that seemed to have been in Latin and the creature whatever the hell it was fell to the ground.

But before you can even react to what happened the entire room went dark.

You awoke on a comfortable bed, your eyes were still closed as you heard a soft conversation from the other side of the room.

“So that’s the girl you keep sneaking out to see?” you heard an unfamiliar voice ask teasingly.

You hear someone else sigh, “Yeah that’s the one.” Hope says, you know that voice anywhere, you dream of her voice.

“She’s pretty.” another voice chimes in.

“Yeah, but she’s normal. We’re not.” Hope says and she sounds disappointed.

But you were confused. What does she mean that they’re not normal?

You finally sit up a little bit as your eyes flutter open. Hope is standing on the opposite side of the room with her arms crossed. There were two other girls standing there with her another brunette and a blonde.

The three girls attention is caught when they notice you move. Hope immediately comes to your side and places herself onto the foot of your bed.

“Hey how are you feeling?” she asks.

“More confused than anything.” you respond and she chuckles softly.

“Yeah I bet you have loads of questions.” she says and you nod.

“You’re lucky you didn’t wake up in a cell.” the blonde says with a giggle and your calm face immediately twists into fear. Hope and the other brunette stare at her in disbelief, “That wasn’t the right time for a joke...got it.” she whispers.

“I’m sorry about her, my sister can be a bit of an airhead sometimes.” the brunette says before getting closer to your bed and extending her hand out, “I’m Josie and this is my sister Lizzie.”

You take your hand and shake it lightly, “Nice to meet you.”

“And you. Hope talks about you all the time. That’s how we know you’re special.” Lizzie teases and you can see Hope blush, but she looks away before you can look her in the eye.

“We’ll leave you two to talk.” Josie says with a smile before waving.

Hope places her hand on your cheek and she rubs your cheekbone with the pad of her thumb. Her eyes scan your face making sure that you’re okay. You have more things to worry about though.

“What was the thing that attacked me?” you asked whispering, “How aren’t you guys normal?”

She lets out a sigh removing your hand from her face, “That was a vampire. We’re at The Salvatore Boarding School, a place for special gifted people. Witches, vampires, and werewolves.” she says.

Your eyes widen and they feel like they’re about to pop out of your head. It felt like a roller coaster in your mind, but all you can ask was another question, “Why was he looking for you? What did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything, my dad was a bad guy he hurt a lot of people. They look for my dad and when they find out you know he’s dead. They go after me because I’m the closest thing they can get to hurting him.” Hope says and you can tell that took a lot of her to say.

I mean it took you many many nights of her visiting and conversations that the two of you had to just learn her name. Probably learning about her being a supernatural being and that her dad is dead was probably last on her list.

“Tomorrow they’re gonna erase your memory. Of all of this mess.” she says gesturing to the room and then she brushes a stray piece of hair out of your face.

Her hand lingers on her face for a second.

You tilt your head puzzled, “Wait will I forget you too?”

She lets out a deep breath and smiles at you sadly before nodding, “Yes, you’ll forget me too.”

“Why? I don’t want to forget you. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I really like you Hope. There’s not a moment in time where I don’t think about you.” you whisper taking a finger under chin and turning her to face you.

She stands up abruptly, “How do you think this will end Y/N? You almost died once because you were seen with me. I’m dangerous! I can hurt you! I can protect you all I want, but it’s not gonna be enough one day.”

You can tell that she has been pondering this and fighting her herself with this for God knows how long. You slowly get out of bed a headache pounding from the night before.

“It’s worth it Hope. You are worth it.”

You crash your lips onto hers and she immediately kisses back. Like everything that she has been wanting, everything that she has been holding back from was finally coming out. It felt like fireworks, sparks flew in your head and you couldn’t help but feel a little dizzy because of it.

She rested her forehead against yours, “I won't let them erase your memories. I’m going to try and protect you. I promise.”

“I know you will Hope.”

You kiss her yet again and she smiles into the kiss widely. The door swings wide open. The two of you break apart as Josie and Lizzie walk in.

“You know this is our room right? I don’t want you guys having sex on my bed!” Lizzie says and Hope laughs while you blush shyly.

You hide your face into Hope’s neck and she plants a small kiss onto your forehead.

#hope mikaelson #hope mikaelson x reader #hope mikaelson x fem reader #hope mikaelson imagine #hope mikaelson imagines

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astranva · 4 years ago

Note

harry’s child being jealous about the new baby getting all the attention and he has to reassure her that he loves them both the same 😔💔

Title: Pinky Promise

Word Count: 2.7k

Category: Slight angst, Fluff dad!Harry

Warnings: A couple of F words.

I loved writing that omg my heart😪❤

You remember 4 years ago, in September of 2016 when you told Harry you were pregnant. Well, technically, you shouted it out.

Both of you being fans of Adele, you had decided to attend her show in Madison Square Garden.

Harry was already working on his debut album and knew he needed a break, especially when he was a nervous wreck.

You remember it all starting with your lack of appetite then suddenly feeling like eating everything and anything edible. You blamed it on hormones, until morning sickness happened. If there was one thing you absolutely loathed, it was nausea. You remember waking up to churn and throw up, your throat only hurting and your muscles aching due to the fact that your body had already digested the food you had eaten the night before and you hadn’t had anything to eat yet that morning, but your body still felt the need to make you run to stick your head inside the toilet bowl.

The first 3 days it happened, you were alone, with Harry being in the studio after leaving you notes that told you about his whereabouts and that he loved you and couldn’t wait to see you.

Not wanting to trouble his inspiration and progress, you only told him that you had an upset stomach every time he questioned why you looked sick.

You remember one day, after Harry was out with Jeff, that you called your best friend and had them bring you a pregnancy test, choosing to avoid any tabloid-talk.

Your heart was thumping, palms sweaty, nausea already kicking in as you waited after following the instructions.

And then it happened; a cry of surprise, eyes growing tearful as one hand was clasped on your mouth while the other held the test tightly – pregnant.

You knew that Harry loved a lot of people, a lot of things, a lot of abstract ideas, like love. You knew he loved kids, and he had often talked to you about them, telling you that he saw you and him starting a family.

It was why after you knew and had checked up at the obstetrician’s and knew that you were 3 weeks pregnant, you were giddy and excited to let Harry know but had decided to do it in a different setting.

Four days after your OB visit, you and Harry were in Madison Square Garden, singing along with Adele.

You were standing in front of Harry, back against his front, his arms wrapped around your waist, your hand holding on to his arms, his chin on your shoulder as you both swayed with Sweetest Devotion.

It was when you moved just a little to the side, still in his arms, to look at him, Harry looked down at you, singing to you.

“I'm heading straight for you. You will only be eternally, the one that I belong to.”

He gently nudged your forehead with his, pecking your lips. He pulled back slowly, smiling down at you.

And then you said it.

“I’m pregnant.”

His eyebrows shot up, leaning closer, “Can’t hear you!”

You grinned, turning in his arms to cup his cheeks softly, “I’m pregnant! 3 weeks pregnant!”

His world had stopped, eyes going wide as his mouth formed an O, “Y/N, are you joking?!” He had asked with a laugh of surprise, his lips stretching into a grin as he asked, “Baby, are you for real?”

You nodded as you laughed in glee, moving one hand from his cheek and to your stomach, “You’re going to be a daddy!”

And that was what it took for Harry to break down and cry, tipping his head back as he bit on his lip, nose red and veins showing on his forehead as he cried before wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug, crying into your shoulder.

Tears were flowing from your eyes as you held him, feeling him pull back to rest his forehead on yours, his hands moving to either sides of your neck, “I love you. I love you so fucking much.” He pulled you back in a hug, one hand moving to the back of your head while the other was on your back, bringing you closer to him.

The 9 months of pregnancy were smooth, as well as emotional. Especially since it was in the 2nd month that Harry went down on one knee, somewhen in the morning when you were both preparing breakfast. You turned around to grab the toast, only to see him on one knee, with a blue velvet box in his hand opened to show you the thin, golden ring with a small diamond in the middle that you knew Harry picked carefully with the thought of how you moved minimalist jewelry in his mind.

“I had a speech and – I don’t remember anything from it other than the fact that I have so many songs about you, and some more, and that I am head over heels in love with you. And that you’re carrying a soul inside you that is made from you and I. I just – fuck, Y/N, I can’t imagine a life you’re not in it and just – marry me?”

His eyes were already glossy, lips pink and dimple there for your eyes to see as he pursed his lips before taking a deep breath.

You had let out a cry, hands on where your heart rested, nodding as you cried, “Yes! Yes, oh my- God, yes, please!” And he didn’t get the chance to stand before you threw yourself at him on the floor, hugging him tightly against you.

You also remember the celebration being very low-key, with only close friends and family there at your house. Gemma, as your maid of honor, had taken charge of the decorations, making the backyard of yours and Harry’s shared house well-lit with all the globe bulbs adorning the trees and walls. The moment Harry saw you in your simple white wedding dress, was one that would forever be engraved in everybody who was present’s mind. He had squatted down, hands covering his face in disbelief before they covered his open mouth as he took you in; laughing bashfully as you, too, took him in.

He was in a white suit, pink embroidered flowers on the side of his pants that resembled the headpiece you wore.

Polaroids were taken, all pictures were taken on film, making everything about the night more magical and sentimental, especially with the 6-month bump you walked and danced around with.

The 9 months of your pregnancy were painful, but not too much for you to feel anything but love for how supportive and helpful Harry was, and admiration for your daughter – Eileen Mae Styles.

Since the moment Eileen came into the world, you knew that she had Harry wrapped around her tiny little finger.

Your daughter was attached to both of you, but you were proud of the character and personality she had at such a young age.

When Eileen turned 3, you and Harry took pride in how you could have a conversation with your daughter, even when it was about how pretty Harry’s butterfly tattoo would look if it was colored. Yes, she ended up coloring it, and Harry loved every moment of having his daughter lying on top of him, coloring his tattoo as he lounged on the sofa while she talked to him about how she likes strawberry chapstick.

It was one day when you felt the familiar feelings of nausea and change of appetite, the reminder of the late period only making one question come into your mind.

That time, you mentioned it to your husband as you ate lunch, who had chocked on his food.

Long story short, you were pregnant – again.

“Mummy,” Eileen called you as you, your husband and your daughter sat in your backyard, letting Isla [Eye-la] get her vitamin D.

Harry was reading a book beside you as you both sat on your swing, Eileen playing and running around with her toys, while you wrote in your journal.

“Yeah, bub?”

She ran towards you, putting both hands on your knees as she grinned up at you before looking down at your 8-month pregnant bump, “What’s in here?”

Harry chuckled, putting down his book to watch the conversation more carefully.

“Your baby brother is in here.” You smiled at her.

“But how? Can I sit there, too?”

You and Harry giggled at her question. “You once sat there, Isla. But then you came into the world, 3 years ago.”

Eileen frowned, looking up at you. “I want to go back again.”

You looked at Harry, silently asking him to help you.

He leaned forward, wrapping his hands under his daughter’s armpits before carrying her to make her sit on his lap. “But then your brother won’t have enough space.”

“I don’t care.” She whined, the frown still on her face.

“Your brother needs all the space so he can grow to meet you, and play with you, don’t you want that?” He asked her softly.

“He-he will take my toys.”

“You can share all the toys with him, bub. He’ll share his toys with you, too.” You cooed, almost scared that your daughter wouldn’t like her brother. Something neither you nor Harry had prepared for.

“But-but you and daddy will get more toys for him. I don’t want him.” She said with a whine, crossing her arms against her chest as she looked down, lips starting to quiver.

You and Harry shared a look, before moving back to your 3-year-old.

“Eileen,” Harry called her name gently, watching as she didn’t look up at him, “Honey, look at me, please.” Slowly, Eileen looked up at Harry, letting the both of you see her tearful eyes. “You know mummy and daddy love you and we always will, right?”

“We do love you so much, bub, and nothing will change that,” You assured her, putting one hand on her knee, “Your brother is also very excited to meet you. He loves you, too.”

“Weren’t you excited the other day to show him your room?” Harry asked, rubbing her back gently.

“Yeah.” She mumbled.

“You have a lot to show him and teach him. You can be his first best friend, isn’t that nice?”

As if she was absorbing what you said, Eileen nodded slowly.

“We love you, Isla. Forever.” Harry said, leaning to press a kiss against her temple.

Turning to look at her dad, Eileen uncrossed her arms to raise up her two pinkies, one reaching out to you, the other for Harry, “Promise?”

It felt as though your heart melted right there and then as you latched your pinky with hers, watching Harry do the same.

“Promise.”

But nobody told you about the hell you’d go through when your daughter was jealous of her new bother, Elio.

The moment Eileen entered the hospital room, holding hands with Gemma, and looking at you as you lied on the hospital bed with Elio right at your side, eyes open as he moved his limbs around, making baby noises, you knew that she wasn’t very welcoming.

Harry was sat on the other side of his son, hand playing with your hair as to comfort you after the pain you went through, and as a simple nonverbal way to thank you. His lips were fixed on the smile his face wore, heart soaring with happiness at the new family addition and the fact that both, his wife and son were healthy.

Eileen looked at her parents, too short to see her brother who was in the middle but hearing him. She was overwhelmed, knowing that she was going to meet her brother.

“Hey, honey!” Harry grinned at her, leaning down a little and opening his arms, hugging her tightly as she ran into them before he pressed a kiss against her cheek, carrying her to place her on his hip, watching as her eyes instantly moved to the newborn baby.

“Meet Elio, bub.” You said tiredly but with a smile on your face, watching your daughter and hoping she would take the new change lightly.

Well, you hoped.

But Eileen had broken into fits of crying, straight out wailing as she threw herself on Harry, leaning her head on his shoulder.

The close family and friends in the room all pouted and cooed, watching the scene.

“Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” Harry asked urgently, rubbing his daughter’s back.

“I don’t love him.” Eileen dragged as she cried, wrapping her arms around Harry’s neck.

Your heart broke, the small smile falling as you looked at Harry in worry.

As if his sister’s cries triggered him, your smallest, Elio, began crying. You sat up, taking him gently in your arms and placing him against your chest, softly hushing him and supporting the back of his head as you looked at Harry, almost pleading him to do anything.

Understanding, Harry stood with Eileen latched onto him, holding her as he walked out of the room and walking down the hall, softly and gently bouncing his daughter to calm her.

“Come on, Isla, please calm down.” He cooed, adding a sigh at the situation he and his wife were in. “Why don’t you love Elio?”

Eileen sniffled, pulling back but keeping her head down, one hand moving to poke at Harry’s pearl necklace – which you and Eileen made him – as she replied, “Nobody will love me anymore.”

Harry sat down on a chair, still holding his daughter just the same. “What makes you say that?”

“Because-because-because he is little, and he needs more attention and I will have no more.”

Harry took a deep breath, letting her words sink it. While it was true that his youngest needed necessary and a lot of attention, he didn’t know how to explain to his oldest that that wasn’t how it goes.

“When you were just a little baby,” He began, looking down at her, “Mummy and Daddy were all over the place. You cried when we were asleep, threw up on us a lot,” Harry chuckled to himself, remembering these moments and taking notice of how it all felt like it was only the day before, “You wanted Mummy and Daddy with you all the time. And we never left you,” He concluded, “So what makes you think that will leave you now, Honey?”

Eileen didn’t reply.

“Your brother still can’t talk. He can’t say when he’s hurt like you do, he doesn’t even know how your favorite blueberry pancakes taste like. And we need to make sure that he does all that, exactly like you. But here’s the thing,” As though he was telling her a secret, Harry leaned to whisper in her ear, “Mummy and Daddy can’t do alone. We can’t do it without you.”

Eileen slowly looked up at Harry, face losing its frown.

“We promised, Isla. We promised to love you forever. Have we ever broken a promise?” He asked, watching her shake her head, “And we won’t. So what do you say? Can you, please, give your brother the chance he needs? He’s actually quite funny.” Harry smiled at her.

“Funnier than you?” She asked.

Harry laughed, “Way funnier! You just have to keep a close eye.”

Eileen giggled quietly.

“Mummy is really excited for you to meet Elio, you know? Was telling me all about the numbers you can teach him, all the photos we’re going to take of the both of you. What he’ll get you for Christmas.”

“Can he get me a book about stars? With pictures?” She asked excitedly.

Harry grinned, peppering her face with kisses and hearing her giggle, fully knowing that it was one of his most favorite sounds, “You tell him.”

Once he stopped, Eileen let out a sigh, her shoulder slumping. “Fine, Daddy. I will try.”

“Thank you.” He smiled gratefully, “How about we go back?”

The moment a knock sounded on the door before you saw your husband with your daughter in his arms, you didn’t know what to expect.

Looking shy and bashful, Eileen clung onto Harry as he returned to his spot after sharing a look with Anne, as if telling her that he would tell her later.

Elio was back in his spot as well, going back to his noises.

Eileen looked down at him once again, finally taking notice of how tiny his hands were and feeling curious. Reluctantly, she leaned down a little, intending to poke his hand softly.

But the moment she touched his hand, was the moment Elio wrapped his hand around her finger, making her grin. “He’s holding my finger!” She squealed as she giggled, “You’re right, Daddy. He is funny.”

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babygirl-diaz · 3 years ago

Note

Prompt: SamBucky are /not/ together but it's getting there. So something wild happens idk magic or some shit and 1940s Bucky gets plucked from his timelime and thrown into theirs. 40s Bucky doesn't pull any punches, and goes for what he wants and that's Sam.

(Sorry it took me almost a month to write this anon. I didn't know how to go about it until today. I wrote this as crack. I hope you still like it! This is pretty similar to my other fic)

Sam was taking the trash out when it happened. Now, you have to understand, Sam has seen some weird shit in his time. He was erased out of existence, for fuck's sake. But this one still took the cake. So yeah, as he took the trash out. The sky, THE FUCKING SKY, suddenly opened and something shot out of it dropping right into Sam's dumpster. Sam was thrown back from the impact, his trash landing elsewhere.

Sam's ribs hurt like hell as he got up from the ground. "Shit," he groaned.

A pained moan came from the dumpster and as if on reflex, Sam's hand went into his back pocket. "Who's in there?!" He asked, panicked.

He slowly took a step towards the dumpster and stopped in his tracks when he heard another pained sound. "Get out of there," Sam warned the person. "Come on. I'm not playing."

Hands grabbed at the edge of the dumpster and someone slowly hauled themself up and tried to get out of the dumpster but they lost their balance and fell to the ground.

"Shit," Sam hissed, before rushing over to help them. "Hey, man, you o-" Sam's voice died in his throat when he finally saw the face of the person before him. "Bucky?!" It was Bucky alright. But not the Bucky Sam knew. This Bucky was young, clean-shaven... dressed in military uniform... if it weren't for those blue hues, Sam wouldn't even have recognized him. This wasn't the Bucky who was in their shared apartment right now. "What the hell is happening?" Sam asked, more to himself than the guy in front of him, who was staring up at him in somehow both fear and awe.

Sam was definitely dead. This was either heaven or hell and Bucky was here as his younger self... Well, if Bucky was here, then it had to be hell. But it didn't feel any different. It still felt like D.C. cold and smelling of corruption. Or maybe that's what hell was...

"Where am I?" The man-- Bucky?-- asked.

"Hell," Sam replied without thinking.

"What?!" That got young Bucky's attention, and he sat on the ground. "I'm dead?"

"Well, I'm guessing you and I both are... because that's the only explanation I can come up with. Where the hell did you come from?"

"I don't know..." Young Bucky almost looked like he was on the verge of tears. "What is happening? Where is Steve? We were at the exhibition... we were talking... and now I'm..." The man swayed and fainted.

SHIT.

Despite his own broken ribs (yes, Sam had decided this wasn't hell and he wasn't dead), Sam hauled young Bucky up from the ground and threw young Bucky's arm around his own shoulder before wrapping his arm around young Bucky's waist (he should really stop calling him young Bucky). This Bucky was light. He wasn't built like a damn truck like his own Bucky (okay, no he wasn't Sam's Bucky but he was Sam's friend so he was technically Sam's? FOCUS Sam. Bigger problems).

Sam somehow got young Bucky (Okay, he was going to start calling him Sergeant Barnes. He was dressed in his uniform after all) into the elevator. Thankfully, no one saw him with Sergeant Barnes. He practically carried Sergeant Barnes to his apartment and used his keys to open the door.

"Wow, took you long enough. What were you doing? Taking the trash all the way to the landfill?" Bucky was sitting in front of the TV, browsing through Netflix.

"Bucky-- we have a problem. I found something-- or rather someone, downstairs"

"Did you go dumpster diving, Sam? I swear to god, Sam, if this is another one of your attempts to adopt a cat--" Bucky stopped talking and turned around and his eyes widened. "WHAT THE FUCK?!" He flew out of the seat and stumbled back.

"Surprise?" Sam said awkwardly. He helped Sergeant Barnes to the sofa and dropped him on it.

Sam's ribs protested, and he doubled over in pain. "Fuck," he groaned.

"What the fuck is that, Sam?"

Sam looked up at Bucky to find him looking at his younger self, horrified.

"That is you," Sam replied.

"No, it's not."

"Yeah, it is," Sam insisted. "He dropped from the sky."

"He what?" Bucky laughed hysterically

"You're freaking out. Stop freaking out," Sam tried to touch Bucky's shoulder, who stepped away from him.

"OF COURSE I'M FREAKING OUT! I mean, LOOK AT HIM... That's me... That's me from 1942."

"How do you know what exact year he's from?"

"I was dressed like that... like a damn dweeb right before they shipped me out."

A groan got Sam's attention, and he looked over at the sofa to see Sergeant Barnes waking up.

The sergeant's eyes widened when looked from Sam to Bucky. "What the-- WHAT IS HAPPENING?!" He screeched. "WHO ARE YOU?!"

"I am you," Bucky replied. "Look, there is no easy way to say this but It seems you have somehow ended up in the future."

"The future?" Now it was Sergeant Barnes's turn to laugh hysterically. "You're saying I've ended up in the future?! That's the funniest thing I've heard all day, pal. Is this a prank? Is Steve getting back at me?"

Sam went over to Sergeant Barnes and crouched in front of him on the floor. "Listen, Sergeant Barnes-"

"You can call me Bucky." Young Bucky offered him a sweet smile.

"Actually, I can't," Sam replied. "He's Bucky to me--" he said pointing at Bucky "--so I have to call you something else."

The smile fell off Sergeant Barnes's face and Sam felt kinda bad.

"--Bucky is telling the truth. You've somehow ended up in the future. What do you remember last?"

"I remember meeting you, doll," Sergeant Barnes replied.

"Doll?!" Bucky said in surprise.

"Shut up, Bucky," Sam told him before going back to Sergeant Barnes. "Before that. What do you remember before that?"

"I remember we were at the exhibition of future technologies... Steve and I were talking and then--- and then I woke up in that garbage."

"Do you remember this happening to you?" Sam asked Bucky.

"No, of course, I don- wait- I do now. How is that possible?!"

"Looks like you're forming new memories, Buck," Sam suggested.

"I am really confused," Sergeant Barnes said desperately, and grabbed Sam's hands.

"Sorry, I just-- I need something to ground me. I am terrified."

"Oh yeah, of course," Sam replied. "That's okay." He squeezed Sergeant Barnes's hands.

Bucky cleared his throat behind them and Sam turned around to find him frowning. Sam just shrugged and turned back to Sergeant Barnes.

"We'll figure it out," Sam assured the young man. "And we'll get you back home."

"Well, we better because who knows what could happen the longer he's here. He could erase my existence."

Just the thought churned Sam's stomach.

"First, let's get you out of these clothes," Sam suggested, looking at Sergeant Barnes. "You smell like garbage."

"Sorry about that, sweetheart," Sergeant Barnes said with a small smile.

"Come on, I'll show you the shower. You can have some of my clothes, they should fit you."

"Why not mine?" Bucky asked. "He's literally me."

"No!" Sergeant Barnes said a little too loudly. "His clothes are fine. I didn't catch your name, by the way."

"OH! I'm Sam," Sam led him to his bedroom and found him a pair of t-shirt and sweats.

"Thank you, Sam," Sergeant Barnes said appreciatively. "I don't know what's going on here but I am glad you're here to help me through it."

Sam offered him a smile in return. "Well, I'm glad you think that. Now come on, I'll show you the shower."

"The future still has a phonograph?" Sergeant Barnes asked before following Sam out of the bedroom.

Sam nodded, "Yeah it does." He showed Sergeant Barnes to the shower and turned it on for him, adjusting the water to the right temperature. When he turned around, he found the Sergeant standing there fully naked.

"Whoa, okay," Sam immediately averted his eyes. He tried not to trail his eyes to Sergeant Barnes's nether regions. "Let me know if you need anything else. Just press that knob when you're done showering and it should turn off the water." (Okay, talking about pressing knobs right now was probably not the best idea).

Sam quickly ran out of the bathroom and he's pretty sure he heard Sergeant Barnes say, "So cute," on his way out.

"What's up with you?"

Sam jumped when he heard Bucky's voice. It almost felt like he had been caught cheating on Bucky with Bucky. Which was ridiculous because Bucky wasn't his boyfriend and he wasn't doing anything with Sergeant Barnes.

"Nothing," Sam blurted. "We should really figure out how to get him back home."

A dark look fell over Bucky's face, and Sam reached out to rest his hand on the other man's shoulder. "What's wrong?"

"We send him back and he gets taken hostage by Hydra and then eventually turned into The Winter Soldier."

"Bucky, everything needs to happen exactly how it happened or your whole present and future will change."

"Would that really be such a bad thing? I mean, look at all the things I've done. If there is a chance I could erase all of that--"

"And what if you end up erasing yourself?" Sam asked.

"Sam--"

"No! Don't Sam me! We are sending him back to his time and that's that."

“Okay, then,” Bucky threw his hands up. “We’re sending him back.”

“How though? We don’t even know how he got here in the first place.”

“Maybe some sort of sorcery was involved?” Bucky suggested.

“Sorcery?!” A startled voice came from behind them and they turned around to find Sergeant Barnes standing there looking stunned. “Sorcery is real?”

“Unfortunately,” Sam replied. “We even have a sorcerer friend. Speaking of which, we should talk to him.”

“Oh, so he’s no longer a wizard?” Bucky teased

“Oh shut it,” Sam threw back and lightly punched Bucky on the shoulder.

“Are you two…” Sergeant Barnes trailed off.

“Are we what?” Sam asked distractedly.

“Are you together?” Sergeant Barnes replied. “I assume a relationship between two men is not frowned upon in the future or a relationship between an interracial couple? My time is less tolerant.”

“Trust me, our time isn’t very tolerant either, but yes, we’ve come a long way from 1942,” Sam informed him. “And to answer your question, no, Bucky and I are not together.”

Sam noticed a frown on Bucky’s face but he ignored it.

“Are you taken?” Sergeant Barnes asked, rubbing the back of his neck.

“No, I’m not,” Sam replied.

Sergeant Barnes stepped closer to Sam and smiled at him. “Good, because, if you were, I would be really sad.”

“Why?” Sam gulped at the closeness of the other man. He smelled like tea tree oil, the scent of Bucky’s body wash.

“Because you are gorgeous and I would hate it if you were taken.”

Sam feels his cheeks heat up at that. “Oh wow… Um.. thanks.”

Sergeant Barnes snaked his arm around Sam’s waist and pulled him closer. “Do you mind if I kissed ya, doll?”

Sam felt his arm being grabbed, and he was pulled back and away from Sergeant Barnes.

“Maybe you should focus more on the fact that you’re stuck in the future than on Sam.”

Sam felt Bucky’s arm around his waist. His grip was almost possessive.

“Are you jealous?” Sergeant Barnes asked with a cocky grin on his face. Sam has sometimes seen that grin on Bucky’s face but it’s very rare.

“Jealous? Of you? Kid, you give yourself too much credit.”

“Boys, you do realize you’re the same person, right?” Sam pulled himself away from Bucky.

“I am not him!” Both of them said at the same time.

“Clearly,” Sam rolled his eyes.

#SamBucky #TFATWS #fanfiction #aashnas drabble #crack

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themonotonysyndrome · 3 years ago

Text

REDACTED verse - A special night

Prompt: Any Fandom | Any Characters/Pairings | Ordering a sweet treat to be delivered to the other person at home/work

Word Count: 2,136

Author/Team: LadyMonotone

Fandom/Original: Redacted ASMR (Gavin/Freelancer. Vincent Solaire/Lovely)

Rating: T

Triggers: NA

Summary: Having an Incubus boyfriend comes with many perks. The Freelancer and Lovely really should have seen it coming.

ConCrit: Y

Well, I guess this can be a sequel to my previous oneshot, REDACTED verse - Those that stood above the rest. I really wanted to write the Freelancer and Lovely interacting after their first, proper meeting so this oneshot suddenly comes to mind!

Exam week is the bane of every student, everywhere — even for the magical ones.

An uneasy atmosphere lingers around D.A.M.N as the current semester hurl the students into an intense week of revisions, study groups, and extra classes; all for the upcoming exams.

The seniors are frantically cramming for their final papers and projects under the watchful eyes of the lecturers. The Freelancer doesn't envy them one bit when they caught a Sonal Energetic screamed into his backpack for a solid ten minutes.

His scream shakes the student lounge, and the windows shattered.

Once he got that out of his system, he focused back towards his textbook, expressionless. The rest of the students around the Energetic hardly bat an eye over what just happened.

On that day, the Freelancer learned to avoid a large group of seniors until the exam week blows over.

"The tension alone in that lounge could make a Serenity Daemon hide underneath a bed." The Freelancer narrates their experience to Lovely. The two of them are currently having their own study session over at the Freelancer's apartment.

It's a beautiful Saturday afternoon, and yet here they are - flipping through textbooks, reviewing and swapping notes and downing cans of coffee and Red Bulls from as early as 9 AM. "Even the janitor wasn't fazed by it. He just snapped his fingers, and the windows were good as new!"

That night after their proper introduction, Lovely and the Freelancer had become quite good friends, much to Vincent's annoyance and Gavin's pleased smirk when the Freelancer told him that Lovely would be coming over for their study session.

"Aww, look you, Deviant. Arranging a little study date with that friend of yours," Gavin teased during breakfast this morning. They both woke up early to prepare meals that could last the Freelancer and Lovely throughout the whole day. When his Deviant absentmindedly replied, "Uh-huh" as they were busy chopping the vegetables, Gavin couldn't help but plant a fond kiss on top of their head. "Anyway, I'll be popping into Aria for a bit today. A few of my, ah, older brothers and sisters called for a meeting. Can I trust that you two won't be having too much fun without me?"

The Freelancer stopped chopping to gave their boyfriend a deadpan stare. "Gavin, we'll be studying." They explained. "Our first paper is literally next week. So I'm sorry to burst your bubble, but there won't be any fucking happening." They then stop themselves. They suddenly recalled something. "I don't want to be on that Solaire Prince's hit list too."

Gavin just cooed at their disgruntled partner, as if the genuine possibility that the both of them being shred to pieces by Lovely's possessive boyfriend amused him.

Nonetheless, Gavin pulled his weight to ensure there was enough food and comfortable pillows and blankets in their shared apartment so that his Deviant and the Electro Energetic would be comfortable for their revisions.

An hour before Lovely arrived, Gavin kissed the Freelancer goodbye and Rifted into his home dimension.

And now we're back in the present.

"I think those students around that guy were his classmates," Lovely commented. They take a quick sip of the lemonade that Gavin prepared to refresh their parched throat. Even in a simple pair of slacks, baggy t-shit, and hair pulled up in a bun, they still look as breathtaking as ever. "They reacted as if it was like a regular Tuesday for them. It's so crazy to think that we'll be seniors like them soon."

The Freelancer pours more lemonade into their glass from the pitcher beside them. Their books, notebooks and snacks are spread all over the dining table. A large and fluffy pillow is propped behind the Freelancer so they can lean back on their chair comfortably. "Urgh, mood. I can already imagine the coursework we'll be forced to do in our final semester." They groan. Their brain is fried from all the information and notes they've been reviewing since this morning. On top of that, the thought that they will be getting even more work once they hit their senior year is starting to freak them out.

Seeing the Freelancer is having an internal crisis, Lovely quickly glance at the time on their phone and decides, "OK, I think we seriously need a break. You look like you're going to pull a stunt similar to that Sonal Energetic, and I don't think your boyfriend appreciates coming back to a half-destroyed apartment."

"Gavin can fix the apartment with his magic, don't worry." The Freelancer is quick to assure Lovely. "He did that after he and Vega trashed the place anyway."

"Uh, what? Who's Vega?"

The Freelancer snapped their attention back to Lovely once they realised the name that they accidentally dropped. "N-Nothing! I didn't s-say anything!" They laugh awkwardly, doing their best to brush off Lovely's concerned expression. "Anyway, break! Yeah! That's a good idea! Are you hungry? We can watch something on Youtube and eat in the living room. You're OK with that?"

Lovely gingerly nods; it's best not to comment or ask about this Vega person since the name alone made their friend jumpy. They push their chair back, stretch their stiff spine, and get up to help set the plates and cutleries while the Freelancer heats the lunch they made in the morning.

They then move to the living room with a tray of food and drinks, where the couch and coffee table are surrounded by pillows and blankets thrown around messily.

"You play video games, right?" The Freelancer asked after Lovely settle down on the couch with a blanket over their lap. "Do you want to watch a playthrough or something?"

"Sure! Do you and Gavin play video games too?"

"Gavin does, though he usually only plays those dating sim games for girls. It's a guilty pleasure of his."

"Oh, Otome Games? My respect for your boyfriend just levelled up. Has he ever played Hatoful Boyfriend?"

"Uh... I don't remember he ever mentioned that title. What is it about?"

"We're watching a playthrough of that game. Right now. You can watch it with me, but you can't tell Gavin anything, OK? I promise you're going to love his reactions."

Lovely's eyes light up with glee and grin widely as the Freelancer switch on the Smart TV. When thumbnails of pigeons with pink hearts in the background pop up on the screen, they immediately throw an incredulous look at the Energetic.

"That top playlist is good to watch. Come on, sit beside me." Lovely pats on the empty spot on the couch beside them, unperturbed at the look the Freelancer is giving them. "I think you're going to like Okosan."

The Freelancer press play on the first video and kick back on the couch with the Energetic. What's better than having a break after a long study session? Hanging out with a friend with some good food while watching a crazy romance video game about pigeons!

However, when the fourth video starts to play, the doorbell rings.

"Uh... are you expecting someone?" Lovely asks curiously; their head is tilting towards the door. Their plate of eggplant pasta and buttered abalones are polished on their lap. The Freelancer internally preened when they enthusiastically complimented on theirs and Gavin's cooking skills.

Anyway, the Freelancer moves their empty tray onto the coffee table and flip over the blanket to get up. "Not really. Gavin said he'll be coming back home at night." They explain and went towards the door when the doorbell ring once more.

A delivery man greets the Freelancer with a stoic face, an armful of flower bouquet, and a thick, rectangular item wrapped in hot red packaging.

"I, uh, think you got the wrong address?" They said, confused to hell and back.

The delivery man blinks, unfaze at the Freelancer's greeting. "Good afternoon. Delivery for..." He pauses to read the card attached to the bouquet. "Deviant? We received a request from Gavin to arrange a flower bouquet and some... special chocolates. He also left a message for you: My Deviant has been working so hard lately~ So I got you something to... help you relax. PS: give some of the special chocolates to that gorgeous friend of yours and their boyfriend."

The Freelancer could only gape when the delivery man finished reciting Gavin's message. From the living room, Lovely is also doing an excellent mimicking of a goldfish. Their stunned expression made the man sigh tiredly. "Look, I'm not going to judge your... bedroom activities. Just take the packages already. I still have more stops to deliver."

"O-Oh my god! I'm really, really sorry about my boyfriend!" The Freelancer finally snaps out of it and stammers an apology. Their face is bright red. They hurriedly accept the flowers and package, shoot a quick thank you and slams the door shut.

Lovely watches as the Freelancer stares into the bouquet with a mixed feeling, something between fondness and extreme embarrassment, before they scream into the large sunflowers.

They patiently wait for the Freelancer to get it out of their system before Lovely delicately asks, "So, uh, does Gavin do these sort of things often?"

"No. This is the first time ever." The Freelancer replies. Their voice is muffled because the flowers are still pressed onto their face. "That's what I get for dating an Incubus, I supposed..."

"Aww, don't be embarrassed, dude! I think it's super sweet how much Gavin loves you. Flowers and chocolates? Boy got some serious game; might even give Vincent a run for his money, and you should've seen how we first met."

The Freelancer peeks through the petals and is relieved to find that Lovely wasn't put off by Gavin's forward nature. In fact, they are very accepting of the Freelancer and Gavin's relationship.

Feeling the warmth on their cheeks slowly disappearing, the Freelancer made their way back to the couch. The rectangular package is tossed onto the couch, and the bouquet is on the coffee table. The Freelancer figured they could put the fresh flowers in a water-filled vase later.

"The guy said that Gavin sent you some chocolates?" Lovely reiterate as the Freelancer began to untie the ribbon and unwraps the box.

"Special chocolates, and knowing Gavin, I kinda have an idea of what kind of chocolates they are." They admit and make quick work of tearing the paper wrappings.

Apparently, Gavin ordered two types of chocolates for his Deviant. One box holds a fancy gourmet assortment of salted almonds dipped in rich Belgium chocolate, double chocolate raspberry truffles, vanilla pieces powdered with light matcha and some white praliné hearts.

Lovely whistle, impressed over the spread. "Your boyfriend really went all out for you!"

The box below it contains rows of heart-shaped chocolates, but the short message written on the card of said box proves it's anything but ordinary treats.

'These are homemade chocolates made by one of my close associates. She's a Succubus, by the way, and renowned for her aphrodisiac desserts. You can try some first if your Energetic friend doesn't mind being a voyeur.'

The Freelancer promptly throws away the card and cues them, and Lovely shrieking in embarrassment. Neither of them expects the second batch of chocolates.

"These are sexy chocolates? Like, legit aphrodisiac chocolates made with magic!? Oh my god, I didn't know they were a thing!"

"I didn't either! I was expecting sex toys below the chocolates!"

"Wait - didn't Gavin wants to give these to Vincent and me!? Dude, does he has a thing for Vincent? Because at this point, I should tell you: he noticed that Gavin was purposely riling us up when they first met, and he's been thinking that your boyfriend is out to get him. But, uh, not in the sexy way, but I'm thinking otherwise now. And if that's the case, then you can warn that Incubus to be ready and catch these hands."

The Freelancer groans and hides their face in their hands. "OK, you know what? I'm going to put the special chocolates in the fridge, and then we'll continue watching a few more videos from the playthrough and get back to studying."

"... You're in denial."

"I'm just trying to keep whatever sanity I have left. It's been a crazy year."

"Urgh, tell me about it."

That night, at Lovely's and Vincent's apartment:

"Vincent, baby? I'm back. Look what I got!"

"Welcome home, Lovely. Dinner's ready if you're hungry. Hmm? What's that?"

"It's homemade aphrodisiac chocolates made by a Succubus. Gavin and the Freelancer gave some to us."

"...I'm gonna punch that Incubus in his smug ass face."

"...Does that mean you don't want them in the bedroom tonight?"

"OK, I'll punch him tomorrow. C'mere, Lovely. I've missed you."

"Yeah, that's what I thought."

#redacted asmr #fanfic #they/them pronouns #gender neutral s/o #freelancer (listener)#lovely (listener)#gavin #vincent solaire

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pixieungerstories · 4 years ago

Text

Quarentine - 1

They always say ‘buy the worst house on the best block that you can afford’ and god knows this place was a total shit hole. 1200 square feet on an overgrown lot surrounded by McMansions. Hell, I paid less for the place that the land was worth. I’m amazed someone hadn’t bulldozed the place years ago.

To make a long story short, I did not look a gift house horse in the mouth.

I mean, it wasn’t a total write off. None of the windows were smashed. There were mature fruit trees in the backyard. If you ignored the weeds and rotting fruit, there was a lot of potential. The plumbing was lead pipes and the electrical was knob and tube, but I know people and I could trade favours to get that replaced. The foundations were good and the roof barely leaked.

I spent the summer camping in a tent in the back yard and slowly getting the place winterized enough that I could move it.

It was still a creepy ass house when I did. It had a boiler. I had no idea how to deal with that, but I was learning. And I learned how to ignore the whistles, hissing and banging sounds that went with having a boiler. The old rads were cast iron with pretty little details in the corners.

There were holes in the plaster, but I just ignored them. It wasn’t worth fixing when I was going to gut the place and put up drywall eventually. It just made it easier to get at the plumbing.

I started just living in the kitchen and ignoring the rest of the house. I had disconnected the rest of the electrical and plumbing and was using that as a home base while I renovated outwards from there.

There is nothing quite as creepy as sleeping in a sleeping bag on what were probably asbestos tiles in an old house that makes the weird noises that old houses make. I kept reminding myself that they only seemed louder than normal because the place was empty and there was nothing to muffle the sound. The shrieking had to be the upstairs window that didn’t quite shut properly.

I had the feeling that something was watching me and prayed to god it wasn’t rats.

I was in this for the long haul. Get up, shower at the gym, go to work, come home, renovate until it gets dark, shower at the gym, camp out in the kitchen. Not exciting, but satisfying. Let’s face it, this was the only way I was ever going to be able to afford a house.

When the work from home order came, I had to actually get a phone line installed so I could have internet access. Me, my laptop and a kitchen table I rescued from the curbside a while back.

The creepy feeling was worse. I told myself it had to be the isolation kicking in. I skyped with my best friends at night to make up for it. The power was still a bit dodgy and kept going out, but that’s what laptop batteries and cell phones are for, right?

I was sure the cough was from the dust.

The guy delivering groceries left them on the sidewalk instead of the porch. It was fine. I understood completely. I hadn’t done much work on the outside of the building at all.

I realized I was sneezing a bit when I started having to use toilet paper as kleenex.

I was fine. I was young and healthy. I didn’t have any sick days at work so I was determined to just push through.

I tried to get more rest.

I dreamed about something laying a cool hand on my forehead.

The grocery store was out of thermometers.

I mean, did it really matter if I had a fever? I wasn’t leaving the house to share with anyone.

My cough got worse overnight. I was vaguely aware of someone lifting me up and holding a cup of cool water to my lips. I was so fucking thirsty.

“You shouldn’t be here,” I mumbled. “I don’t want you to get sick.”

“I won’t,” a rumbling voice assured me.

I didn’t remember making soup, but I jolted into awareness sitting at the table with a steaming bowl in front of me. Chicken noodle out of a can. It’s not that hard to make. I’m sure I could add water and heat in my sleep. Apparently, I just did.

I was so cold that night. I don’t know where the extra blankets came from, but they were there in the morning.

I don’t know how I ordered a bed while I was sick, but it was there and on my credit card. So was the mattress and sheets. It must have been the fever talking when I ordered them. I would not have picked out anything that old fashioned looking.

How did I get all this stuff up to the second floor bedroom? I’m sure I don’t remember stripping the paint off the closet doors. I must be losing my mind. I slept, I ate, I stopped logging in at work. I just needed to concentrate on getting better.

By the time I was able to stay awake for more than an hour at a time, the city was shut down. I was confined to my house whether I liked it or not. I was suddenly glad my fever addled brain had ordered a bed while I still could.

The watched feeling was worse. I ordered some rat traps with my groceries. I didn’t catch anything. They didn’t take the bait. I swear I heard snickering when I checked them in the morning. That was a new sound for the boiler to make.

“I am losing my mind,” I repeated to myself. Then blushed when I realized I had said it aloud. “And yes, I also talk to myself,” I added for good measure. “At least it is some sound,” I muttered. “I should turn on some music or something.”

Work was officially shut down but I still had the dumpster outback. I spend my awake time cleaning out the other rooms. The advantage of living in a construction zore was all the dust masks. When I needed to actually go out, that might help. In the meantime, I carefully sorted through the things the previous owners had left behind. Some of it was just trash, but there were some old photographs, lost buttons, even a single antique earring.

“No chance of finding a pair, I bet. Still this could be made over into a necklace or something.” Shit. I was talking to myself again, wasn’t I?

I still got tired easily. I dreamed about my mom stroking my hair as I slept.

The footprints I couldn’t explain away.

I had taken down a section of wall and spent the day carrying out the chunks of plaster before microwaving a pizza pop and tucking in early. In the morning there were footprints in the dust. They weren’t mine. They were huge and it was hard to believe they were human. Weird long toes, with the claw tips a little in front were not what I was expecting.

That was the first time I had wanted to leave the house.

I grabbed my stuff and made it to the front yard before I was spotted by a passing patrol car and ordered back inside. I had no idea how to explain that I thought there was some sort of monster living in my house. I was shaking as I went back inside.

“Hello?” I called from the doorway, ready to run. I had no idea where I could even run to. “Um… Is anyone there?” I don’t know what I was expecting. “Hi? Um …. I bought the house, I didn’t know there was any … thing living here. I have been trying to fix it up.”

“I know.”

Fuck. The scratchy, rasping bass voice was not what I was expecting. “I … uh… I can go back to camping in the yard,” I suggested.

“No.”

I waited to hear if he (?) was going to say anything else.

Apparently not.

“Uh … no I can’t stay here? Or no, you don’t even want me camping in the backyard?”

“If I didn’t want you here, I would have had many opportunities to get rid of you.”

Shit. That wasn’t ominous or threatening at all.

With a low chuckle the voice asked, “Did you mean to say that out loud?”

I froze and tried to remember what I had said. Oh. “No, that was an accident. I’m not used to having anyone around to hear me.”

“I always hear you.”

I closed the door and went out to sit in the garden for a moment to think about that. I ended up pacing, swearing and wishing for a cigarette. I hadn’t smoked in years. The sun started to go down and the bugs came out. I was being eaten alive outside. Going inside was scary but he was right. He had lots of time to …

I flung open the door. “Did you order furniture on my credit card?” I demanded.

The laughter that rang out was a whole other level of creepy. I shivered and thought about going back outside. The door pulled itself closed behind me. I spun to look at it and didn’t see anything. I could hear something breathing. I turned again. Nothing.

“If we are both going to live here, can we at least agree on some ground rules?”

“Like what?” was almost purred in my ear. Looking around wildly, I still couldn’t see anything.

I was shaking now. “Is there a way for you to be less scary so I don’t have a heart attack?” I squeaked.

There was nothing but silence. Still my sense of the presence suggested it was gone.

I didn’t sleep that night. I would just start to nod off then jerk myself awake and look wildly around the room. I never saw anything.

Six am, my alarm went off and I could smell coffee.

All the dust had been swept up.

“Hello?” I whispered.

Nothing. I had coffee and cereal and tried not to think about my surprise roommate. I was so tired, I passed out at my computer in the kitchen at some point that morning, only to wake in bed upstairs in the afternoon. “I don’t want you to touch me while I’m sleeping,” I mumbled, painfully aware that there was dick all I could do to stop it.

“Alright,” the voice said, coming from somewhere in the direction of the closet. “But don’t fall asleep at the table then.”

I breathed a faint sigh of relief. I wasn’t expecting the next part.

“You need to eat something now. You are still recovering.”

There was a can of soup heating on the stove. My breakfast dishes were gone. I found them clean and dry in the cupboard. “Thank you,” I whispered. He didn’t reply. As I ate lunch, I was psyching myself into going upstairs to look in the closet. The door had been painted shut when I got the house, but at some point had been stripped down to the bare wood.

I hadn’t worked up the nerve by the time I was done eating. Or washing and drying the dishes. I found myself at the bottom of the stairs staring up at the second floor. Did I really want to see what was in that closet?

No.

But it would be better to look during the light of day.

Eventually, I made it up there. I put my hand on the knob and tried to turn it. It didn’t budge.

“You want rules?” the voice growled behind me. I spun, there was nothing there. “Do not open that door. Do not come into my space.”

I went from trembling from nerves to bolting down the stairs in an instant. I nearly tripped, but felt something - him? - catch me and set me on my feet.

“Careful,” he purred.

I spent the rest of the day in the garden again. I was still out there when the sun went down and the back light turned on. Then the kitchen light and for a moment I could see something outlined against the antique curtains I hadn’t replaced in the kitchen. I tried to remind myself that he wasn’t necessarily that big. He might just be closer to the light and casting a bigger shadow.

I didn’t believe it, but I tried.

I crept back into the house like a scared child who wasn’t sure how angry their parents were going to be after they had done something wrong. I turned on all the lights on the main floor and stayed in the kitchen away from the stairs.

“Planning on staying up all night?”

I jumped. “How are you always behind me?”

“I live in the shadows. Go to bed.”

“Um… I was thinking, that should be your room, really. Your closet. You picked out the bed. I can just camp down -”

“No. Go to bed.”

“Do you really think I’m going to be able to sleep in a room with a closet that must not be opened? I have read Blue Beard, you know.”

“So have I. The wife gets the house and lives happily ever after.”

“The last wife does,” I pointed out. “The first dozen or so didn’t.”

He chuckled at that. “We made a deal, remember?”

“Are you teasing me? What deal?”

“I don’t touch you in your sleep. You don’t sleep in the kitchen anymore.”

“How big are you?”

The lights flickered and went off.

“Do you want to see me?” he purred, so close that I could feel his breath on my neck.

“Not in the dark,” I squeaked.

“Go to bed.”

The light snapped back on, leaving me blinking.

I spent the night sitting on the bed with my back pressed against the headboard trying to see the whole room at one. Eventually, I fell asleep.

My alarm did not go off at six. It had been turned off. The coffee was ready but not turned on when I went down stairs. The air smelled faintly of solder. There was a post-it stuck to the coffee maker. Fine copperplate handwriting told me:

I have replaced the plumbing

I stared at it dumbly. I had replaced the plumbing to the kitchen sink and the downstairs powder room and had been washing out of the sink since I had been forced to stay home. The only other plumbing was down to the washing machine in the cellar and the upstairs bathroom. I pushed the button on the coffee maker and slowly crept upstairs.

Sure enough the stack of copper pipe waiting in the other bedroom was gone.

Well, not gone. I could see it installed through the holes in the walls. I turned on the tap to the sink and sure enough, I had water. I now had an upstairs, working bathroom with a clawfoot tub.

And no walls.

“I don’t like the idea of you watching me bathe,” I called out. Then I felt like an idiot because if whatever it was had voyeur tendencies, it could have been watching me for months. I tried all the taps and the toilet. Everything worked.

“Thank you,” I mumbled, unsure if I was talking to myself.

“You’re welcome.” It was the least creepy, most normal thing I had heard from him.

----

When I got back downstairs, there still wasn’t coffee but there was a new note:

Humans who do not sleep start to hallucinate

I crumbled it up, threw it across the room and jabbed the on switch on the coffee maker. Nothing happened. I growled as I plugged it in. The power went out.

“Oh come on! Withholding coffee is cruel and unusual punishment!”

“Sleep.” It sounded like the whole house had murmured that last bit.

I wish I could say I handled it gracefully, but I didn’t. I stomped back up to the bedroom like a petulant child.

I woke to bright sunlight streaming in through the window. The house was quiet and it felt empty for the first time in days. I had a bath and washed my hair and I felt better than I had in days too. Clean and dry and dressed, I bounced into the kitchen to try and turn on the coffee again only to see my laptop snap shut.

It was with a lot of trepidation that I opened it. I was expecting a ridiculous online purchase which is why I stared dumbly at the screen unable to process what I was seeing.

It was a CGI woman with her hands tied to something over her head being railed by a monster who was fingering her clit with one hand and fondling her breasts with the other while her belly distended in rhythm with his thrusts.

“Ugh! Dude! You can NOT watch porn on my laptop!” I shrieked as I frantically tried to close the window.

“Would you rather I watch you?” he asked calmly from somewhere to the left of me.

I breathed out a shaky breath. “OK. Let’s talk about private browser windows and how not to get a computer virus.”

When I got to the end of my tentative explanation, I asked, “Do you need … some alone time?”

There was another house shaking howling laugh.

“Is that a yes or a no?”

“You need to eat.”

That brought up a whole other issue. “Do you? Eat I mean. Do you eat? What do you eat?”

“Don’t worry about me. I am not going to eat you. Unless you ask nicely.”

I blushed even further but got out a pan and a skillet meal from the fridge.

I spend the rest of the afternoon weeding the garden. I came in when it got dark, heated up my leftovers from lunch and tried to figure out what to do with myself. The nap had meant that I wasn’t tired for the first time in days.

I wondered what he would do if I watched a movie. I hunted through the cupboards and found a bag of microwave popcorn from before the virus started. Right! I thought. Bowl of popcorn, a movie, skype with a few friends. Pretend none of this was happening.

I wasn’t surprised when the lights went out. That was just a thing now. My computer was still illuminating a bubble around me and B99 was still hilarious.

I wasn’t expecting the bed to dip next to me. That once again raised the question of how to deal with him around others. I hit the mute button. “What are you doing?” I asked icily.

“Not touching you. What are you eating?”

“Human food.”

“Hmmm.”

I unmuted my computer to answer Penny’s question about how stir crazy I was going.

“12/10 on the looney toons scale,” I offered.

She just laughed.

All of the popcorn was gone.

“Ah hell.”

“What’s wrong?” Penny asked.

“All my popcorn is gone,” I grumbled. I didn’t add that I had more than half a bowl left a moment ago. Not eating me, I reminded myself.

“That sucks. Need to pause and get more?”

“I don’t have anymore.”

She just laughed, “But do you still have toilet paper and hand sanitizer?”

I chuckled, “Toilet paper, at least.”

“I should go. It’s getting late,” she said with a yawn.

“Yeah. Good night.” After Penny signed off, I just let Netflix autoplay the next episode.

“Do you need to sleep?” The whisper seemed to come from the direction of the closet but the bed was still dipped under his weight on my other side.

My heart leapt to my throat. “How many of you are there?”

“Just me,” he purred too close to my ear. I flung myself away from him and toppled out of bed. Two hands caught me.

Two other hands caught my laptop.

I stared as it was placed back on the bed a little way in front of me. The hands on my arms were cool and smooth. “What are you?”

“I am me. I have not asked your name. You will not ask mine.”

“My name is on the mail. And my credit card. You know my name,” I pointed out keeping my eyes locked on the screen, fighting the urge to look around.

“Nonetheless.”

This wasn’t going to work, but I had to try. “I would like to be alone now.”

The bed shifted as the weight was removed from the side. The black shadows that could be fingers moved from my computer. The voice said, “Good night” from the direction of the closet.

I sat frozen. “In the morning, I’m moving the bed to another room.”

“Why?”

“Because the closet is yours and it’s scary being here with you,” I admitted.

“I have never done anything to harm you.”

“You scare the shit out of me multiple times a day.”

There was a long pause before he replied, “And yet you haven’t left.”

“The city is on lock down. I can’t leave.”

“Hmm.”

I jumped as my laptop snapped shut. I fumbled in the dark trying to find it on my bed, “What are you doing?” I demanded.

“Taking this downstairs. I will not bother you tonight.”

“What-” I started to say, then snapped my mouth shut as the realization that this may be his ‘alone time’.

This time the “Good night,” came from the bedroom door.

In the morning the only thing in my browsing history was netflix. This was less comforting since I had shown him how to clear the cache. I told myself at least the keyboard wasn’t sticky.

#quarantine #oh my god they were quarantined

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