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flowerfan2 · 4 years ago

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A story about a reunion, and everything that happens afterwards.

Chapter 16/20 - Read on A03 here.

Patrick reads the email over again, just to make sure, then he runs out into the living room to tell David.

“I did it.”

David looks up from his spot on the couch, his black-framed glasses perched on his nose. They’ve had a very sleepy Sunday morning, followed by a big breakfast of bacon and omelets, and David still hasn’t gotten around to putting in his contacts. Patrick loves him like this.

“What did you do?” David rises up from the couch, all grace and designer loungewear, and comes over to Patrick.

“I got a job.” Patrick isn’t sure if what he is feeling is relief, excitement, or equal parts of both, but it feels amazing.

David smiles at him and pecks him on the cheek. “Of course you did.” He sits down on the couch and pats the cushion next to him. “Sit down and tell me about it.”

“It’s just a consulting position, bookkeeping mostly, but for a company that works with start-ups and young entrepreneurs. And it’s decent pay, more than I was expecting for this kind of thing.”

“That’s great,” David says. “When do you start?”

“They want me right away.” Patrick can feel his smile stretching his cheeks. It’s the first time he’s felt anything but useless in so long, the way the people at this firm seemed to understand what he could bring to the table. Patrick accepts another kiss from David, and then pops back up off the couch. “I’m gonna call my parents.”

He goes into the bedroom and talks to his mom, then his dad, and then the conversation somehow gets derailed into a debate on whether buying new furniture for the lanai right now is a good idea or if they should stick with what they have for the time being. Patrick kind of likes the idea of making David go shopping for patio furniture with him, so he’s voting for the former. Finally they circle back to his job, his parents congratulate him again, and he gets off the phone.

He’s headed back to the living room, but pauses when he sees David in the guest room. David has a black leather bag open on the bed and his sweaters folded in careful piles next to it. Patrick’s stomach drops.

“David? What – what are you doing?”

David looks up. He’s dressed in his favorite armor, glasses discarded in favor of contacts, a fuzzy black sweater over the black jeans with the rips in the knees. “You said you were starting right away. You didn’t say where, but I’m assuming Toronto-”

“Toronto? Why would you assume Toronto?”

David’s face shutters further, and he turns back to his bag. “I know I said I’d go anywhere with you, but I thought you might at least give me a heads up, discuss it a little bit, especially if it’s not Toronto. I do have to deal with my apartment there at some point.” David turns towards him, a hand on his hip. “Do you even still want me to come with you?”

Patrick doesn’t know how this could have gone so horribly wrong, and he crosses to David, grabbing him by the shoulders. “Stop packing.”

“You don’t want me to come with you?” David’s voice is rising, and Patrick shakes his head.

“I’m not going anywhere. We’re not going anywhere, not until we both decide we want to.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“David, we’re not going anywhere. I don’t have to go anywhere. It’s a remote job.”

David stares at Patrick, and Patrick watches as he mentally replays the conversation they’ve had so far. “You aren’t leaving?”

“No.” Patrick sits down on the bed, David frowning at him as he knocks over a pile of sweaters, but sits down next to him anyway. “It’s remote, part-time. A consulting gig. Varied schedule, but they think it’ll be about 20-25 hours a week, depending in part on how much their clients like me, and how well I can add value. I may need to go to the Toronto office a few times a year, for meetings or something. But I’m doing the job from home – from here, or wherever.”

David turns away, picking up his off-white hoodie and pretending to refold it, even though Patrick can tell he just needs something to do with his hands. “You should have told me that,” David says, embarrassed.

“I know. I’m sorry, I just got so excited.” Patrick leans into David, rubbing a hand on his back. “I’m sorry,” he says again, letting it sink in, letting David get his balance. “I wouldn’t make any plans for us without talking it over with you. I promise I wouldn’t. My plans wouldn’t be any good without you.”

David’s eyes flicker to his and away, his hands still wrapped in the halfway folded sweater.

“It’s true, David.” Patrick puts his free hand on top of David’s, calming their restless movement. “I don’t want any plans without you in them. I haven’t even accepted the offer yet.”

“You haven’t?” David turns back, searching his face.

“Nope. I told them I had to talk it over with my boyfriend.” Patrick’s taking a risk, throwing that word out there. But David had done it first last time, and he doesn’t think there’s really any question that it applies. He’s sort of glad that he hasn’t used it yet; there’s more of an impact now, when David clearly needs it.

David’s eyes go wide. “You did?”

“I did. So – what do you think?”

David shifts, and his demeanor softens, his walls coming back down. “I think your boyfriend needs to know more.” There’s a smile hidden in his cheek, an agreement. Patrick wants to cheer. David holds his gaze, and his smile escapes, mirroring Patrick’s own. “And then you probably need to ask for more money. There’s nothing wrong with asking for what you deserve.”

“You don’t even know what they offered me.”

“Whatever they offered, you’re worth more.”

******

Patrick gets up earlier than normal a few days later and shaves carefully, examining his face closely in the mirror. He doesn’t look like someone who hasn’t worked in months. He just looks like himself. And when he presents himself to David for approval, David’s smile courses through his lips and into his cheeks, his hands dancing to Patrick’s shoulders, smoothing down the thin fabric of his favorite purple dress shirt. He’s ready.

They set up an office of sorts for Patrick in the guest bedroom, shifting the bed to one side, moving a dresser out of the room and into the hallway, and arranging a table by the window. Patrick decides that one of the dining table chairs will work for the time being, and David fusses with the curtains, concerned that the glare will make it hard to see his laptop screen.

Finally Patrick ushers David out of the guest room and logs in to a Zoom meeting for orientation. It’s boring as hell, but he doesn’t complain.

It’s not as if he thought he was unemployable, it’s just that after his last job imploded so strangely, he wasn’t sure what it would be like to be an employee again. And didn’t know if anyone would give him a chance to find out. Turns out, Alexis was not only good at papering over his employment blips, she was awesome at pep talks and interview practice. He makes a note to himself to call her soon and thank her.

That night they make sandwiches and eat them on the lanai. It’s a little cool for it, but it still feels nice to be outside. Patrick had his parents send him down some more clothes, but David scoffed at the idea of wearing a jacket. Instead he’s got a throw blanket draped around his shoulders, a giant turquoise fleece wrap that clashes terribly with his otherwise neutral palette.

They get a series of texts from Stevie, photos of the house she’s buying in Schitt’s Creek. It’s a three-bedroom ranch on a decent sized lot. The interior looks like it hasn’t been updated in decades, with a pink bathroom and horrendous wallpaper in the bedrooms, but Stevie’s had plenty of experience updating décor at this point.

David teases her for a few minutes, riffing on how unbelievable it is that she’s adult enough to be a homeowner, but his heart doesn’t seem in it. Patrick doesn’t tell him how Stevie has been saving for years, every bonus and raise going into an account for a down-payment.

After their chat with Stevie, David seems out of sorts, and Patrick isn’t sure what to do about it. After they’ve cleaned up from dinner, he suggests they play a game.

David gives him a frowny look, and Patrick immediately knows what he’s thinking. Neither of them are in the mood for sex. “Not that kind of game. A card game, or a board game.”

David perks up at this, then deflates. “We don’t have the right number of people for a board game.”

“I bet we can find something the two of us can play. My parents have a pile of games in the hall closet.”

They pull down the basket of games from the shelf above the laundry machine, and David peers inside. “Did they get these from a yard sale or something?”

There’s a worn box that contains a checkerboard, with both checkers and chess inside, a Connect Four game, a few decks of cards, and Uno.

“I think my aunt sent them down.” Patrick takes out the Uno deck. “How about this?”

David takes the whole basket into the living room and sets it on the coffee table. He takes out the Connect Four game and pulls out the plastic frame, dropping a round tile into it. “I had this game,” he says thoughtfully.

“I think everyone had that game.”

David dumps out the rest of the pieces, and a greeting card falls out. It’s got a drawing of a bouquet of flowers on the front, with “Get Well Soon” in big letters. “What’s this?” David opens it and reads out loud. “Marcy – hope this brings a little bit of fun to your day. You’re in our prayers. Love Susie and Pete.”

Patrick takes the card and reads it, his mind flashing back to last spring, flying down to see his parents. His dad breaking down in tears on the car ride from the airport. His mother telling him not to worry.

“Patrick? Patrick, honey, what’s going on?”

David has his arm around him, and he’s pressed close to him on the couch. Patrick brushes away the wetness on his cheeks, and David pulls him into a hug. “Patrick, tell me what’s wrong.”

“It’s nothing.”

David glares at him.

“I mean, it turned out to be nothing.” Patrick shakes himself and clears his throat. “My mom had a cancer scare last spring. They found a tumor in her breast. But it was benign.”

“This doesn’t sound like it was benign.” David waves the card at him. “People don’t say you’re in our prayers when it’s benign.”

“She had a bad reaction to one of the drugs, during the surgery, and took a little while to recover. She was laid up for a while, and pretty miserable. But it wasn’t cancer.”

David’s eyes are wet, and he looks like he’s going to cry, too. “She’s okay now?”

“She’s okay.” Patrick leans against David, snuggling into his arms, and they both breathe together for a long moment. “Oh god, I think that’s why I freaked out in the doctor’s office.”

David shifts to look at him. “What do you mean?”

“As soon as I heard, I flew down here. I went with my mom and dad to the doctor’s visits before her surgery. I couldn’t stay long afterwards, I had to get back to work, but…” Patrick’s throat gets tight, remembering. “It was awful. We were all so frightened.”

David presses Patrick’s head against his own, his large hand against Patrick’s scalp warm and comforting. Patrick can feel David’s chest rising and falling. David’s taking deep breaths, he can tell, trying to stay calm.

“You said this happened last spring?” David says quietly.

“Yeah.”

“When things started to go wrong for you at work.”

Patrick tenses. “My mom was in the hospital. I think it’s understandable that I was having trouble focusing.”

“No, honey, of course. That’s not what I meant. Of course it is. It’s just – you didn’t mention that before. That being worried about your mom is what started to get you down.”

Patrick feels like he’s a cartoon character with a light bulb flashing over his head. Could it be that simple? Was worrying about his mom’s health, on top of his general dissatisfaction with where he had ended up in life, what pushed him over the edge into depression?

David tightens his arm around Patrick’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry, Patrick. That that happened to your family. It must have been a very scary thing to deal with.”

“It really was.”

“I’m so glad she’s okay.”

Patrick turns and buries his face in David’s neck. “Me too.”

That night, after David falls asleep, Patrick turns to the internet. He hadn’t wanted to do this before. He’s not sure why, although he thinks it has a lot to do with denial. But he can’t stop thinking about his mom, and how hard it had hit him when she was sick. Gritting his teeth, he starts googling causes of depression. Upsetting or stressful life events. Death or illness in the family. Job-related worries. Huh. Maybe he had good reason to feel like things were falling apart. Maybe that’s why he lost the ability to care about his job. Maybe he’s not doomed to fail at his new one, too.

Patrick scrolls to the email from the therapist he’s been talking to. So far, it’s just been a few emails and a brief phone call, an introduction, to see if she seemed like a good fit. She’s based out of Toronto, but has many patients that she counsels remotely, on Facetime or Zoom, and comes highly recommended. With shaking hands, he types out a message, suggesting that they schedule a session soon. “I think it started last spring…”

#David x Patrick #David Rose #Patrick Brewer #Schitt's Creek #Schitt's Creek fic

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toothpastecanyon · 4 years ago

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A Name From the Mailbox, Chapter 2

Dipper finds out the author's name before Not What He Seems. It's not the person he expected.

See most updated version on Archive of Our Own.

______________________________________________________________

The Gravity Falls Public Library. Dipper didn’t find himself going here as often as he’d thought he would. Sure, there were books, but whoever the librarian was they certainly weren’t stacking them in any kind of system; it was impossible to find anything you were looking for besides dusty magazines heaped up on coffee tables.

But for all the library’s shortcomings, it did have one thing the Shack didn’t. It had computers.

“Is that a dial up sound, Dipper?”

He shrugged at his sister. “Maybe? I dunno what that sounds like.” He sat back. “Wish it’d load faster. Ugh, I swear these things are cursed to be slow or something like that.”

“Oooo, curses!”

“Just need to wait for it to load…” Dipper took out a notebook. “If I can’t have the journal, fine. I don’t need that. I don’t need him. I’ll find it out myself.”

“You’re muttering, bro bro.” Mabel poked his face. “So what’re we looking up, anyway? I thought you said all the websites for magic stuff are ‘unnacurate’ and ‘disturbing’.”

“It’s innacurate actually, Mabel.” He pushed her hand away as the computer finally loaded. “And I’m not looking for Gravity Falls stuff. I’m looking for Stan.”

“What’s he doing on the internet? I don’t think he knows what it is.”

Dipper started typing. “No, but maybe we can find out something about him on there.”

“Ooo, like secrets!”

“Yeah, like secrets.” Dipper made a face as he put in ‘Mystery Shack Gravity Falls’ and got a few sites with mixed reviews. “Oh you gotta look at this, Mabel. Someone wrote, ‘A friend recommended I bring my family here. We spent five minutes inside, and in that time the owner charged an exorbitant entrance fee, scared my children with some horrific taxidermied duck-rat thing, and then made up some fake ‘early exit charge’ when we tried to leave! We are pretty sure he picked our pockets too, but the police in this town are useless. I’m out a wallet and a friend.”

Mabel giggled. “I’m pretty sure Stan has no idea about these! Oh, this one’s from when I was boss! Ahem, ‘The last time I was here an old man was giving the tour, but when we came by the manager appeared to be a young girl. Everything appeared to be slightly destroyed too? When I asked for a refund because part of the roof fell on me, she told me to shut my yap. Other than that, great as always. Love the money bag.” She gave a fist pump. “Aww yes, I got us a five out of five! Let’s read more, this is fun!”

“Actually, Mabel, we’ve gotta keep looking.”

“Awww.”

Dipper tapped on the keyboard. “Okay, I guess the Mystery Shack doesn’t turn up much. How about… just his name?”

He typed that in, and sat back as it loaded.

“Alright, Stan. Let’s see what you’re hiding…”

______________________________________________________________

It was late at night when Stan snuck his way back into the Shack. He opened the front door as quietly as he could, and shut it behind himself, making a face at every creek. He took off his black mask, his leather gloves, and stashed them under the register before moving to the blinds. He kept a close eye on the parking lot as he drew them closed; it didn’t look like he’d been followed.

Ugh. Stan didn’t like messing with the feds, but it wasn’t like anyone else had any radioactive waste handy. He’d scope out the place a few more times, just to be safe… but that was for another night.

With a big sigh, Stan headed over to the vending machine. He raised his arm to input the code, but something told him to look around first. His eye caught on a small darkness on the base of the staircase, and he paused a second before pressing the code for a candy bar. He picked it up, unwrapped it, and munched on it as he headed for the living room.

“Grunkle Stan.”

There it is. He turned on the light.

“Oh, hey Dipper. Having fun standing in the dark like that?”

Dipper had his arms crossed. “You’re out late.”

“Yeah, ’cause I’m old and I do what I want.” He sank into the chair. “What’s up, kid? If you’re gonna ask for your journal back you’re gonna be disappointed.”

“No, that’s not why I’m here.” He pointed to a large stack of papers on the side table. “I found this.”

“Huh? Oh, you didn’t use the copier, did you? Paper’s expensive, kid.”

“No, I printed it out at the library.” He made a face. “It was like twenty dollars. Now look!”

“Ugh, I already sat down, kid. Can’t we- Oof!” He grunted as the pile was dumped in his lap. “Watch it, that’s a lot of paper! You’re gonna have to summarise whatever this is, because I am not-”

“It’s your thesis, Grunkle Stan!”

Grunkle Stan paused, and looked up at Dipper. He looked very, very serious, and he came a step closer.

“Well?”

“Well… well what? Thesis?” Stan tried to stand up, but the papers kept him down. “I don’t know what you mean, Dipper. Seriously, I’ve never seen this before in my life-”

“You wrote it!”

“What?”

“Look!” He grabbed the top page and stabbed a finger at the author line. “Stanford Pines! All summer long you said you didn’t even go to college, but you’ve got a PhD! You wrote a thesis about anomalous sightings in the western United States! Admit it - you are the author!”

Stan found himself shrinking back; he had a bad feeling he wasn’t going to be able to brush this off. “Wh-where’d you even get that from?”

“I found your college online. Apparently they’re still writing about your thesis since it’s the only nationally ranked one in their history.” Dipper clicked his pen. “You’re, you’re a genius, Grunkle Stan! I-I have so many questions, like why didn’t you tell us? Why’d you stop writing the journals? Where are the other two?”

“I… I…” He took a deep breath. He had to get control of this. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, ki-”

“Oh come on-”

“I don’t! Look, there’s obviously been some kind of mix up, it’s not like Stan Pines is a rare name-”

“Already thought of that.” Dipper held up an article. “I found this piece about how you used your grant money to build the Mystery Shack. It’s even got a photo - it’s you.”

It was a gutpunch to see Stanford’s college photo shoved in his face, but he tried to swallow it. “Kid-”

“I don’t understand why you won’t just admit it. I know you don’t want us messing with the supernatural, but all summer long I’ve been reading your journal, trying to solve the mysteries of this town. The author was a huge one - I-I was kind of worried I’d never find out, or I’d find out he was dead or something, but it’s you!” He grinned. “And now I know, we can work together! You don’t have to keep pretending! You can trust me with this!”

Stan looked down at his nephew’s face, and gave a deep sigh. There was no easy way out of this. With a bit of struggle, he hefted the thesis off his lap and onto the floor, then put a hand on Dipper’s shoulder.

“Dipper, listen. I’m not the author.” Stan saw him open his mouth and quickly continued. “I’m not, okay? I know you like your mysteries, but just this once, could you please just take my word on this one?” He made a face. “I don’t want you or your sister getting hurt. So just forget about it, okay?”

Dipper frowned at him, and for a moment Stan didn’t think that was gonna work - it was a long shot, anyway. But then something seemed to click in his mind, and he stepped back.

“Forget…” he said. “Grunkle Stan, do you know about the Society of the Blind Eye?”

“The what?”

“It’s-“ He reached under his arm and rolled his eyes when he realized there was no journal. “Ugh, I’ll draw it.”

He grabbed a paper from the pile and started sketching something out. Stan stood there, a little confused.

“Sounds like a cult. Did you join a cult? Ugh, your folks are gonna kill me.”

“It’s this!” Dipper shoved a paper in his face - a crossed out eye, a symbol Stan remembered seeing somewhere in the journals. “Have you seen this before?”

“Kid-”

“Ugh, that doesn’t prove anything, though. You might’ve forgotten that too.” He clicked his pen, and then took off for the stairs. “I’ll be back!”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Stan called out, but he was already gone. He threw his hands up in the air. “Great. Perfect. Hey, can you come back down and explain what all that was? Dipper?”

No reply. Stan frowned; he made to follow, but his foot caught on the stack of papers. He caught himself on the wall, and turned back to look at the scattered pile. Each page was lit by TV static, stark white in the light, and pitch black in the shadows. He narrowed his eyes at that picture of Stanford, that stupid thesis.

“Fine.” He gave the mess a kick and stalked into the gift shop. “Fine.”

Dipper wasn’t going to stumble into this so close to the finish line. He’d worked too hard for too long. If the kid was so intent on figuring him out, he’d just have to work faster.

He gave a long look around before entering the code. The venting machine swung open with a puff of air, and he shut it quickly behind him before marching down the steps.

No more scoping out. It was time to finish the job.

#gravity falls #stan pines #dipper pines #mabel pines #toothwrites #fanfiction

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squidproquoclarice · 4 years ago

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Yeehawgust Day 31: See You, Space Cowboy

May 1890: Eagle’s Bluff, Wyoming

One of those quiet evenings sitting on the porch with the sunset over the mountains in that way that reminded Eliza of the best parts of Tennessee. Isaac was fast asleep, after Arthur had read a story to him. Old enough now to mark Arthur’s comings and goings, and he was always so excited when his father was here, and so crushed when he left.

Arthur came out the door, and she heard the thunk of it falling into place, Arthur used enough to its crooked peculiarities to know where to push and how to close it. He sat down on the porch--though not beside her on the stoop. A good five feet away, leaning against one of the posts. Always so careful to leave her distance, to thank her for meals, to ask her about doing things with Isaac. Every little thing that made it painfully, awkwardly clear that he felt like a guest. She had it in mind sometimes he looked like a stray dog, anxiously awaiting the broom.

It’s you that done that, she reminded herself. The mistake that night had been both of theirs, drunk and foolish as they’d been. She hadn’t expected to ever see him again when she woke to find him gone, let alone for him to come back next spring to apologize. Let alone to offer to marry her when he saw her belly. Like that night they’d met, that day had ended badly. She’d panicked at him telling her what he was, how he made his living--if that was a living. She’d been brought west by Richie promising her things, and he’d dumped her in a nowhere town to fend for herself. To bind herself to a man who like as not would wind up at the end of a rope--no.

But she hadn’t been too proud to accept his help, his insistence that he see her and the child provided for. I got you in this mess. So whatever I can do.

Sometimes she felt like the world’s strangest kept woman. Tucked away, raising a child, wearing a fake wedding ring and claiming him as her Mr. McCready, conveniently on the road on cattle business. Though she wasn’t a kept woman in some ways. She worked, and worked hard, down at the Silver Strike in town. and Mr. Davidson was so kind about letting her keep Isaac there, mostly because Mrs. Davidson loved having a baby, and then a little boy, to look after. She also didn’t have to provide any kind of intimate services. The most he’d ever touched her since that night was the occasional polite, casual touch on her arm like a gentleman would do to a lady.

When she thought of a mistress, she thought of some lovely, pale languid lady just living idly waiting around for her man. Not her, Eliza McCready, with as much African and Indian blood as white in her veins, with her rough hands, her boy to raise. She had her life, and it was Isaac and the Silver Strike and this cabin, and Arthur Morgan sometimes rode into it, and then a few days later he rode out again back to his gang and his life that didn’t involve her and Isaac. The twain met, but they weren’t at all the same.

“I told him I’d be back in a couple weeks, for his birthday. Might not make the day of, but...still.”

She smiled at that. “Good.” He’d be four, and she’d tried to make it known to Arthur that Isaac really, genuinely wanted him there. He’d left her money to buy their son a present, and she had her eye on some brightly painted wooden animals in Jeck’s store, but for him to be there would mean so much.

“He weren’t much for fishing. Too impatient.” He glanced down towards the creek, smiling that gentle, almost shy smile he sometimes got. “Guess he gets that from me.”

She expected Isaac would be excitedly talking about it until Arthur came back, despite that. He could talk so easily to his father, but sometimes she felt so tongue-tied around Arthur. The habit of almost four years now was hard to break. Two strangers who’d shared a bed one night that he didn’t recall at all, and she’d kept only flickers. But she should have remembered those when he found her, pregnant and afraid. The name he’d whispered against her skin was “Mary”, but oh, the tenderness of him--it was like nothing she’d ever felt with Richie. She wished she remembered more of it, of being somebody truly precious, cherished.

But it hadn’t been hers at all. Sometimes she wondered if she’d turned him away as much from that as the panic of hearing about his life. She wasn’t sure she could live with a man knowing that much sweetness was in him, but it was another woman’s to claim. That he couldn’t ever look at her like he looked at the Mary whose loss sent him drinking in Litchburg’s Saloon that night.

Arthur lit a cigarette and handed it to her, then lit one of his own. As they had a peaceful smoke, Arthur went on, “He likes stories. Think he’s gonna start learning to read soon?”

Probably. He was a smart boy. But she hadn’t learned to read until she was thirteen, when Mr. Jones had come to the village and become their schoolteacher. She didn’t know what age a kid learned to read normally, but she didn’t want to admit that. She must already look poorly enough to him. So she settled for turning it aside gently, “He ain’t even four yet, Arthur. Be enough time for that.”

He nodded hastily. “Sure. Just…” He hesitated, then added softly, “He’s such a good kid. Got you to thank for that.”

He gets some from you too, and it ain’t just impatience with fishing. She wasn’t sure where it had happened, but somewhere she’d stopped waiting for him to prove out as rotten. True, he still wasn’t around more often than he was, but he was coming here more and more with Isaac getting old enough to interact with him in a more meaningful way. He was still awkward sometimes, but oh, how he tried. She could see it. She could see how he loved that little boy.

She never could have thought that somehow she could look at him and see a the traces of a kind man, a caring father, right alongside a self-proclaimed outlaw. What he did when he rode off, she didn’t know. Still didn’t want to know, truth be told. But there was something in him, clean and bright, that she wanted to know better, wanted to see shine clearer. He might be an outlaw, but he didn’t seem remotely beyond saving.

It had been on the tip of her tongue these last six months to ask if he’d stay awhile longer, or even for good. For Isaac’s sake, yes, but for hers too. To see if that goodness in him could grow, if it didn’t have to be something he tucked away like a pocket watch every time he left here. To let Isaac have his father. And in some silly, desperate corner of her soul, hoping that the kindness and respect and even possibly friendship that had grown in place of the wary awkwardness could grow into something else entirely. She could never be his Mary, but she could see being his Eliza, could see being married to the man she saw he could be, if only he’d want her, if only he could believe in that life too.

But those felt like dreams too distant, reaching for the stars in the heavens and trying foolishly to fly to them. She’d have to be enough for him, and how could she be? She had lost her chance when she’d turned him down before, and she couldn’t bear to ask and have him refuse, and perhaps ride out of Isaac’s life forever. Chances were Arthur would have to leave anyway once Isaac got older and too many questions came up, but for now, she wouldn’t deny him what father he could have.

She’d watch Arthur ride away in the morning, say See you, cowboy as she always did, and her life would go on, as it always did.

#yeehawgust #eliza mccready #arthur morgan #rdr2 #writing #fic from the parking lot #elizarthur #i always feel like these two are just a missed opportunity #of two people too self-conscious to speak up #and it gives me feelings

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creampuffqueen · 5 years ago

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Practice Kisses

Here it is! My contribution to Nobell week 2020! Now, I’ll be the first to say that they are not my favorite ship, but I do like them together! I thought I wasn’t going to participate, but then this idea popped into my head so I had to write it.

Enjoy this fic, a childhood friends to lovers AU!

Word count: 3170

~~~~

They met on the first day of kindergarten, when Nova stepped onto the school bus with her older brother Adrian, watching as her dads waved goodbye from the sidewalk, holding little Max and Evie in their arms.

“Kindergarteners sit up front.” The bus driver, a gruff older woman said. She pointed to a seat, and Nova plopped herself down next to the prettiest girl she had ever seen.

The girl had dark brown skin and hair, the same color as Nova’s eyes. When they locked gazes, she blurted out the first thing that came to her head.

“Look! You match my eyes!” She touched the girl’s arm, eliciting a giggle from the other kindergartener.

“Or maybe your eyes match me instead.” She suggested. “My name’s Danna. When’s your birthday?”

And just like that, they were friends.

At the end of the day, Nova waved goodbye to Danna and hopped off the bus with Adrian, running up to her dads.

“Dad! Pops! I made a new friend!”

“That’s great, sweetheart.” Simon grinned. Baby Evie, in his arms, reached down to try and grab at Nova’s dark hair. Instead, the five-year-old turned around to wave goodbye as the bus drove down the street.

“Her name is Danna and we’re best friends forever!” Nova proclaimed, rushing inside the house.

That night they ate ice cream in front of the TV as a family, and Nova curled against Hugh’s side with Max laying on top of her, all of the Everhart family asleep in one massive cuddle pile.

~~~~

“Do you want to come over for a sleepover this weekend?” Danna asked, Nova peering out the window of the bus.

“Yeah! I’ll ask my dads when I get home.” They were headed off to second grade, and still the girls chose to sit together on the bus. Ever since their first meeting two years ago, they were partners in crime, never far from each other.

This year they were in the same class, and they walked to it together. If they went to the library, Nova would grab Danna’s hand and they’d go together. In the cafeteria they split their desserts, and one time Nova even let Danna peek at her paper during a spelling test. Best friends, that’s what they were.

Friday couldn’t come fast enough for Nova. She’d never had a sleepover before, not like Adrian, who had friends spilling out his ears. Nova was more shy and reserved. She’d never had a friend like Danna before.

“Alright, are you going to be on your best behavior for Mr. Bell?” Simon asked, crouching beside his daughter on Danna’s doorstep. They’d walked one street over, Nova practically skipping the whole way. Now she stood, stoic and serious, nodding at her father.

“I promise, Pops.”

“Okay. I’ll come get you tomorrow morning.” He kissed her head, rang the doorbell, then started home.

“Nova!” Danna answered the front door with a cheer. She pulled her into a squealing hug, then dragged her friend inside. “My dad just ordered pizza, and later we can watch a movie and eat popcorn!”

The girls clambered up the stairs and into Danna’s room. There was already an air mattress laid out for Nova to sleep on, and she dumped the contents of her bag onto it.

Pizza came, and Nova made sure to use her napkin and not speak with her mouth full, using the manners her Pops had talked to her about. Afterwards they got into their pajamas and watched a movie, Danna and Nova squished together on the couch with their bowl of popcorn, screaming dramatically when something scary happened.

“Alright, girls, time for bed.” Mr. Bell ushered them away, and the two of them were sent upstairs to Danna’s room, giggling the whole way.

“I’m not tired.” Nova proclaimed.

“Me neither.” Her friend agreed. “Let’s try and stay up all night!”

Together, they gathered up all of Danna’s pillows and blankets, draping them over her lamp and her bed and the chair at her desk, creating the perfect blanket fort.

Danna turned off the lights, the only lights left being that of her small lamp and her flashlight.

“What are we gonna do to stay up all night?” Nova asked. Danna shrugged in response.

“Maybe I can paint your nails?”

Nova’s small brow furrowed. She’d never had her nails painted before. Adrian had offered once, when Pops painted his nails a shiny purple. Nova had stuck her tongue out at him and run off.

“I guess. But only if you paint them blue. I don’t want a girly color.”

“Okay.” Danna was gone for a minute, leaving Nova with the flashlight. She returned a minute later, holding two different bottles of nail polish.

“One for you and one for me.”

Nova sat very still, unsure of what to do as her friend took her hand and slathered the nail paint liberally. Danna’s brown eyes were serious, focused, leaving no room for argument. When she made a mistake she dabbed it with a napkin she’d brought, until all ten of Nova’s fingernails were painted a perfect cerulean blue.

It only took a few minutes for the paint to dry, and then Danna passed a bottle of pink polish over to Nova.

“Your turn, Nova.”

Nova didn’t have the slightest clue how to paint nails. But Danna had done it on her easily enough, so how hard could it be?

Hard. Very hard.

The seven-year-old stuck her tongue out as she focused, gripping Danna’s hand tightly. The napkin didn’t help, and at the end Danna’s nails were both streaky and clumpy at the same time. They looked awful.

“I’ve never painted anyone’s nails before.” Nova said defensively, before Danna could speak.

“It’s okay, Nova. You’ll get better if you practice.”

To change the topic, Nova asked her, “What do you want to talk about?”

“Do you have a crush on someone?” Danna chirped.

“A what?”

“My dad says that one day I’m going to have a crush on a boy. I just think they’re all icky. Do you like a boy?”

Nova shook her head. “My dads never told me about that.”

Danna pursed her little lips together. “My dad says that he thinks I have a crush on Oscar, because I always talk about him.”

“Oscar? Ew!” Nova squealed. “He picks his nose!”

“I know!” Danna complained. “I do not have a crush on Oscar, but Dad won’t believe me. He says that one day I’m going to want to kiss boys.”

“Do you think that one day both of us will kiss boys?” Nova asked. She cocked her head in confusion. “I’ve never kissed a boy.”

Danna shrugged. “I don’t even know how to kiss a boy.”

When she looked at Nova again, there was something unreadable in her eyes. “I don’t think I want to kiss boys, Nova.”

Nova swallowed suddenly, realizing that her friend was a lot closer to her than before. “Maybe it’s like painting nails, Danna. You’ll get better if you practice.”

“Maybe we can both practice together.” Danna whispered.

Nova didn’t know what she was doing. But she’d seen her dads kiss plenty of times, so how was it different?

Slowly, sitting on her knees, she leaned towards her best friend. Danna’s brown eyes were wide, but she didn’t move out of the way as Nova gently pressed her lips to hers.

The kiss lasted only a second, then Nova pulled away. “There.” she said. “Now you have to kiss me, so you can practice, too.”

Danna nodded. “Okay.” She bent her head and kissed Nova quick, then sat back again, just watching her.

Neither girl spoke for a long moment, until Nova gave a massive yawn. “Maybe we can’t stay up all night. Let’s go to bed.”

Underneath their blanket fort, the girls curled together and fell asleep.

~~~~

Nova, eleven years old, sat in the tops branches of an old oak tree that overlooked the creek behind her house. Everything about it was familiar, including the feel of Danna’s head in her lap, both of them watching the sky through the canopy of leaves.

“Can I ask you something?” Danna said softly, picking up Nova’s hand and admiring the silver polish on her nails.

“Yeah. What’s up?”

The girl took a deep breath before she spoke. “Would we still be friends even if I moved away?”

Nova sat up, pulling Danna with her. “Of course we would! Why would you ask that?”

Danna shifted away, swinging her legs over the side of the thick tree branch. “It’s just… my dad got a new job, away from Gatlon. And he wants to move us this summer.”

“But you can’t move!” Nova protested. “We’re supposed to go to junior high together in the fall!”

“I’m going to go to junior high in another city.” Danna murmured. Nova noticed the tears in Danna’s warm brown eyes.

“You’ll call me, right? Every day after school?” Nova felt tears springing into her own eyes, as well.

“Promise.” Danna insisted. “I’ll call all the time and I’ll write you one letter every week!”

That summer, Danna Bell moved from the neighborhood she’d lived in for over a decade. And Nova, her best friend, was there for every second, desperate to spend as much time with her as possible.

“Danna! Get in the car, please!” Mr. Bell called after his daughter. The moving van was loaded, waiting for a final inspection before it left. Danna had her backpack by her feet, standing in the doorway of her empty house.

“I’m going to miss you so much.” Nova gave her friend a watery smile.

“Me too.” Danna whispered.

Taking a deep breath, Nova leaned towards her, just a bit. “A practice kiss before you go? Maybe there will finally be boys in your new school that you want to kiss.”

Danna giggled, wiping at the escaped tears. “We haven’t done a practice kiss since we were little.”

Nova shrugged. “For old time’s sake.”

Danna peeked over her shoulder, seeing her father was still talking with the moving crew. “Okay. One last time.”

Unlike the kisses they’d shared when they were younger, Nova let this one linger a little bit. She pulled back, only a bit, still feeling Danna’s breath on her lips as her eyes fluttered open.

“Danna! Say goodbye to your friend and get in the car, please!” Mr. Bell still wasn’t looking at them, and Nova felt her cheeks heat.

“Bye, Danna. Remember, you have to write and call me all the time.”

“I promise.” Her best friend said, slipping into the backseat.

That night, Nova cried until she had no tears left. Danna was her best friend, and now she was gone.

Every day, she checked the mail for a letter. And every day she checked the answering machine for messages.

There was nothing.

Nothing, even when school started. No letter. No call.

And eventually, Nova stopped looking.

~~~~

“And then he said-” Nova cackled hysterically, nearly knocking her drink over as her little sister recounted her day at school.

She was in her early twenties now, finishing up college to get a degree in engineering. She’d been away from her family for nearly a whole semester, and she missed them.

Now, she sat in a restaurant with her dads and her siblings, glad to be eating nice food instead of microwave ramen noodles for once. It was good to be home.

“Hello, I’m your waitress for tonight. Are you guys ready to order or do you need a few minutes?”

Nova held up her menu, remembering her order, before looking up to the waitress.

And instantly froze.

She’d grown, gotten so tall over the years. Her dreadlocks were dyed yellow. But still, Nova would recognize her face anywhere.

Danna Bell was her waitress.

The girl in front of her froze as well, face paling as though she’d seen a ghost. The moment ended quickly, and she put her head down as she took the family’s orders. Nobody noticed.

Still, Nova couldn’t focus. That was Danna. Her best friend all of elementary school. She was here.

“Nova, you seen distracted.” Simon said gently. “Is something wrong?”

“No.” She lied. “I just have a lot on my mind. I’m fine.” However, she finished her meal in relative silence.

The waitress, Danna, came to collect their check, and watching her, Nova felt a kind of desperation she’d never felt before. She had to talk to her.

She wrote her number discreetly on her napkin, with a little note. Meet me outside after we leave, if you can. Please, need to talk to you.

“You guys head home, I’ll catch up!” Nova called as her dads loaded the rest of her siblings into the car. She’d come in her own car, thank the stars, and she brushed off the curious questions.

It took ten minutes after they drove off for a small tap on her shoulder to come. Nova didn’t flinch, just turned around.

Danna was holding the napkin, with the note. And staring at her.

“Hi, Nova.” She murmured. “It’s been a while, hasn’t it.”

She didn’t know what to say. Whether to laugh or cry or hug her or scream.

“Yeah.” Nova whispered. “It’s been a while.”

Danna shifted in front of her, more nervous than Nova had ever seen her. “Nova, I… I’m sorry. I know I have a lot of explaining to do. But my shift isn’t over yet. I need to get back inside.”

“It’s fine.” Nova assured her. “Just text me when you can. If… you want to.”

“I will.” Danna insisted. “I promise.”

~~~~

It had been three days since Nova had seen Danna in the restaurant. She should have known she wouldn’t follow up. She hadn’t bothered to years ago, so what was different?

Still, she was disappointed.

It was midnight when her phone buzzed, a text from an unknown number.

Unkown: Hi Nova, it’s Danna. I’m sorry I didn’t text you earlier. It’s been super busy around here lately and I had to take extra shifts.

Nova: Okay

Danna: Can I call you?

Before Nova anwered, Danna was calling her. She hesitated, for just a moment. She hadn’t spoken to Danna in years. What if she’d changed?

But at the same time, Nova missed her far too much to care.

“Nova, I want to explain.” Those were Danna’s first words upon answering the call.

“I tried to call you, and send you letters, I really did. But my dad wouldn’t let me. He thought you were a bad influence. He said he didn’t want me hanging out with… people like your family.”

Oh. Mr. Bell had never given Nova the impression that he was homophobic, but then again… she was also only eleven years old when Danna left.

“I’m sorry.” Danna sighed. “After a while I just stopped trying.”

“Danna, it’s alright.” Nova assured her. “It’s fine. It’s not your fault.”

“I missed you.” Her friend said earnestly. “I know it’s been years, but I still miss you. I never forgot you, Nova.”

“And I never forgot you, either.” Nova told her.

“Would you maybe like to meet up for coffee sometime?” Danna asked. “I know you’re home from college right now, you freaking genius.”

“I’m not a genius!” Nova protested.

“Yeah right.” Danna snorted. “Your grade was never below a 99 in math and science.”

“Okay, fine. Does tomorrow work for you?”

~~~~

Nova had never been more nervous in her life. What was it going to be like, talking to a friend she hadn’t seen in so long? They had different lives now.

“Hey.” Nova glanced up from her cup of coffee to see Danna standing before her. Her hair was half up-half down, and she was dressed in a cute, simple dress with monarch butterflies embroidered on it. Suddenly Nova felt underdressed in her leggings and crop top.

“Hey. Sorry I didn’t get anything for you. I don’t know how you like your coffee.”

Danna shrugged. “Just regular, black coffee for me.”

“Me too.” Nova chuckled.

Danna sat down, smiling broadly. “I missed you, Nova.”

The way she was looking at her made Nova’s cheeks heat, and she had to clear her throat before she spoke again. “Yeah, me too.”

After they both had drinks, the conversation flowed easily, just like old times. Nova laughed so hard her drink nearly came up her nose, sending Danna into a laughing fit as well. Her laugh was bright and rich, just like Nova remembered.

Eventually they both got up and went out of the cafe, walking the streets of downtown Gatlon arm-in-arm.

“So, how’d you end up back here?” Nova asked, stopping to admire a fountain.

Danna sighed. “My father kicked me out after I came out to him as a lesbian. I came back here, got the first minimum wage job I could find, and I’ve been here ever since.”

Nova’s heart clenched. “I’m so sorry. I-I’m bisexual, if that makes you feel better… for some reason.” She cursed herself silently. What the hell was she saying?

Danna just laughed. “Well, now we know why I didn’t want to kiss boys in elementary school.”

Those memories came flooding back, and Nova cringed. “Remember when we used to practice kissing with each other? Sweet rot, we were so dumb.”

Another shrug from Danna. “Well, we were kids. Kids do those type of things.”

Her tone of voice caught Nova off guard. She glanced over at her friend, surprised to find her eyes unreadable.

Stars, she’s so pretty. She couldn’t help the first thought that came to her mind. Danna, with her smooth, velvet like skin and her gorgeous brown eyes.

When their eyes met, Nova stopped breathing. The blood rushed to her face as both her head and her heart pounded frantically, every part of her absolutely singing with joy when Danna’s hands intertwined with her own.

“Nova, what would you say if I told you wanted to kiss you very, very much?” The world spun around them, and Danna was the center.

“I would tell you to go for it.” Nova’s head felt fuzzy, the words slipping past gummy lips.

Danna didn’t need to be told twice. Her silky hands cupped Nova’s face until that was all she could see, and when her lips pressed against her own, Nova thought she might burst with the feeling.

Her hands pulled Danna closer, every part of her molten from the contact. Danna’s hands moved from her cheeks to twist in her shirt, keeping them close while their lips moved together.

Somehow it lasted an hour and only a second, both at the same time. When Nova pulled away, her breathing was ragged, her hands holding onto Danna for dear life.

Their foreheads were still touching, Danna’s minty scent all Nova could smell. She couldn’t step away.

“I’m never going to leave you, Nova.” Danna whispered, a gentle promise.

“Best friends?” Nova asked, a joking grin on her face.

“Even better.” Danna giggled. “Girlfriends.”

#renegades #marissa meyer #renegades au #nobell #nobell2020 #nobell renaissance #nobell week 2020 #nova artino #danna bell #nova x danna

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thirsty-pixie · 5 years ago

Text

Richie x Reader

Part 1

Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

I know Richie is gay in the movie but I do what I want lmao. This is kinda something I've had rolling around in my brain for a while.

Back story: Y/n is a creature similar to it, she was born from her mother which was human but her father was Pennywise. It was getting lonley and wanted to have someone else who could live as long as him and keep him company. Though humans were much to fragile and died quickly he decided to impregnate a Woman. The pregnancy nearly killed the woman leaving her bound to a wheel chair. The child received some of its abilities like strength, speed and she feeds off of fear, she is also connected to it physically. When it gets hurt she feels the pain and she is immortal, she stops physically aging at 36. She feeds on fear but not by eating children, just being around someone who is scared is enough.

Last day of school.

Is was the last day of school and I was already sitting outside of the front doors watching the students leave the building. Mrs. Ripsom was waiting put in the road with the police looking for her daughter. I still remember the blood on my dads chin when I walked in on him eating and the sickening thud when poor Betty fell to the ground of the sewer. He never let me see him eat and that day I found out why. I seen four familiar boys walk out of the building Bill, Stan, Eddie, and Richie.

I enjoyed hanging close to this group because Eddie, he was a hypochondriac and was always scared of something. I watched as they walked passed me Eddie looking up at me then quickly back down to his feet. I chuckled shaking my head,the walked over to a trash can to dump their bags which was a common thing for kids to do after school let's out for the summer. The door opened again this time Bowers and his gang walked out, Patrick winked at me like always as they passed earning an eyeroll from me.

They walked towards the four boys who were starting to walk home. I felt something snap when Bowers grabbed Richie's bag and pulled him backwards into Stan. Within a few seconds I was standing between Bill and Henry, I heard Richie say shit when I shoved Bowers back. "The fuck is your problem" I yelled at Henry causing him to get angry, "it's none of your business now be a good little bitch a run along." He stepped closer but I didnt back down.

"I'm sorry. Did I stu-stu-studer? I said run along." He tried to push me with his chest but I didn't budge "you don't scare me Henry" suddenly fear radiated from Henry as he looked behind me make eye contact with his dad. "This isn't over losers!" He huffed before turning to leave. "Holy shit! Do you have a death wish? He will literally kill you" I turned and Looked at Eddie and shrugged. "I'm not afraid of Henry he's just a scared little kid" I stuffed my hands in my pockets and looked at Richie and Stan who looked shocked. "I'm Y/n.... by the way" I smiled and began walking away.

I heard the four of them running to catch up with me "that was totally cool" I looked down at Richie how was now walking next to me "I mean he's honestly not that scary...." even though he was only a couple years younger than me he was pretty short. "So I'm Stan, that's Bil, Eddie and hes Richie." Stan walked on the otherside of me introducing everyone. I smiled and kept walking "where are you going?" I heard two of them ask in unison. "Well I gotta get home to my mom and hang out with her until the next nurse comes..... theres a gap in the shift change." I mumbled the last part and I turned the street.

"What's wrong with you're mom? She a vegetable or something?." Richie blurted. I heard someone punch him followed by and ouch causing me to laugh. "No she's just in a wheelchair so for an hour after school I take care of her then the night nurse comes." I looked at the Four who had slowed their pace and walked behind me. "Then I think tomorrowim gonna go swimming" I stopped at my driveway and looked at the boys who were following me like puppies. "W-w-well we are going to gu-go to to the ba-barrens. Want to come?" I smiled at Bill and Richie flung his arm over Bill's shoulder "yeah we can stop by here and get you then hit up the quarry after the barrens" I nodded "yeah I'll see you all tomorrow then"

I walked inside to see my mom asleep on the couch, I covered her with a blanket and turned the tv off. I went to my room and changed into my workout outfit and waited till the night nurse arrived. "She's been asleep since I got home I made her dinner it's in the oven.." the nurse smiled and I walked out of the house. I began jogging to the sewer drain that was closest to my dads hideout.

I looked to make sure nobody was watching before I slipped inside. The walk wasn't long before I heard him humming. "Daddy?" The humming stopped when I spoke and he popped his head around the corner in his human form. I smiled and walked into the large room hugging my father he smiled at me and kissed the top of my head. "How was your last day of School Y/n" I shrugged and looked up at the children floating some with missing appendages. "It was fine....Daddy must you display them like they are trophies..." i frowned and he sighed looking down.

"I'm sorry its how I lived for a really long time it's hard to change....." I nodded and flopped against the pile of toys. It sat next to me and sighed "so I've told you how I used to sleep for 27 years at a time..." his voice was shaky and he spoke slowly causing worry to build up inside me. "Yeah.." I rolled onto my side and looked at him, his eyes had prominent dark circles and he looked exhausted. "I'm getting weak and tired and I will be going back to sleep for another 27 years in about a month or so..." he scanned my face as I sat up.

"So you're leaving me for 27 years?! Mom wont survive another year.... what will I do?" I stood up and glared at him. He stood up and hugged me "I know I'm sorry I stayed as long as i could. You'll be ok you're strong just promise me you'll come back when I wake up...." I had started crying when he hugged me but by the time he finished I was sobbing. "I'm going to miss you Daddy...." I knew he was a horrible monster but he was my father.

~~~Time skip~~~

I had on my black and red backpack on that I had filled with snacks, I sat on my stairs with my bike waiting for the boys to come by. After about 15 minutes I heard Richie's loud mouth about a block away so I stood up and got on my bike. "Ready Chicka?" Richie asked and I nodded smiling, the barrens was only a 5 minute ride from my house so. We walked down the trail and to the drain pipe that fed into the creek, I could smell the rotting flesh unbeknownst to anyone else. My senses were 100 times better than an average persons.

I scrunched my nose at the smell and followed Bill into the drain listening for my dad. I heard Eddie complaining about the water and laughed when I heard Richie say it doesn't smell like caca to him. Bill picked up Betty's shoe and turned around, "guys" every one froze and looked at Bill. I zoned out remembering seeing my dad as a clown mouth dripping in blood, I was brought back to reality when I head someone scream for help. The screaming continued but they sounded like painful screams like someone was hurt, no one else could hear it.

Moments later a kid came splashing down the creek falling into the water a few feet away from us. "Oh shit" we all rushed over to the kid to help him, I could feel his fear from back where I was standing before I went to help and the closer I got the more invigorating it was. I was in bliss as he rode on my pegs to the drug store, we stopped in the Alley leaning the bikes against the wall as Eddie looked at Ben's stomach.

They rushed inside leaving Ben, Richie, and I out in the alley "glad I got to meet you before you died" I looked at Richie and hit his arm playfully. He looked at me confused "not nice" I said before lifting Ben's shirt again. "Fucking Bowers.... I'm gonna kick his ass for this" before Richie could say anything the guys came rushing out their arms full of supplies. "What'd you do rob the place." I watched as Eddie meticulously tended to his wound, a few moments later I heard someone coming through the alley.

"You ok that looks like it hurts" I looked up seeing a redhead girl standing next to Bill I tuned the rest of the conversation out as I walked to the end of the alley. I popped my back and watched as people walked along the side walk oblivious to horrors that lay below the streets the drove and walked walked on. "Y-yo-you coming Y/n?" "Yeah pull your head out of the clouds and kets goooo" I smiled at Richie and Bill as I walked back to my bike.

Posted 9/30/2019

Part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6

#it #Pennywise #beep beep richie #richie x reader #richie toizer x reader #richie tozier #trash mouth #the losers club #bill #Eddie #ben #stan #beverly #it imagine #richie imagine #richie it #richie rich

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forbetterorworsefinalspace · 5 years ago

Text

Shonky

Rating: Teen and Up

Fandom: Final Space

Part: 2

Link- 🌌

__________________________________________________

Still trying to leave Earth, Sheryl is reminded time and time again that bringing her son along is a big mistake. However he can prove useful.

Meanwhile Gary is reminded that his mother is a very different person from his father.

For Better Or Worse AU

__________________________________________________

“Is this wrong?”

Sheryl Goodspeed paused her actions to looked up at the sky, annoyed beyond belief. They were only a day or two into their journey, they hadn’t even left Earth yet for fuck sake, and the kid was already driving her up the bloody walls! Kid was a friggen Stickybeak, with no idea about his own personal safety, (She pulled him out of traffic twice already.) but somehow was insightful enough to know when she was breaking the law.

Trust John to raise him properly. Now she had to wreck all his hard work…

“Yes, Gary, but we need to do this.” Sheryl said, going back to her work.

They had driven down to a place Sheryl knew people stored their space vehicles during the off season. Rich tycoons that camp in space or some other nonsense. If they could get a craft that doubled as a living area, that be perfect… However she’d settle for whatever was stored in the fenced in yard.

They just needed to break in and steal one.

“Why?”

God fucking damn it.

“I’ll tell you later Gary.” She muttered, shaking her head. “We just have to.”

“But-!!”

“SHH!!” Sheryl spun to looked at him angrily, practically hiss in his face. “Listen here you little Drongo, see that there?!” She yell whispered, jutting her finger to the house just a few feet away. “That house?! If you wake up the person inside, then they’ll call the cops and take us away! You want to go into foster care?!”

The boy gave a frightened shake of his head.

“Right, then you’d best PULL your head IN!” She growled, then was back at the locks. She fiddled away for a few more moments, grumbling when she realized how rusty she had gotten. However she finally heard the tell tale click, pulling it apart and easing the door open with an ominous creek.

She looked around quickly. No signs of dogs. Or anything else. Suppose the guy just trusted his community. It was a high end area of town.

Sucks to be him.

She stepped in and could feel Gary follow behind her. She shut the door so it wouldn’t slam before leading deeper into the yard. Gary wandered a few steps away, with wide eyes.

“Are these… spaceships?” He asked in awe.

“That's a bit generous.” Sheryl shrugged. “More like space campers, space RVs and space cars, I suppose.”

“Wow…” Gary didn’t seem deterred by the explanation. He walked closer to a sporty looking craft. Likely a racing model. “W-what are we gonna do?”

“Steal one.” Sheryl said, looking over a large camper, only to deem it too noticeable and cumbersome.

“Why?”

Fuckin’....

“To go to space.” Sheryl glared at him. “Why else?”

Gary turned to her quickly, slack jawed and wide eyed. He began to bounce in place, growing a very large smile on his face. Sheryl realized what he was going to do a few seconds before he did.

“Don’t you dare!” She snapped, thankfully stopping him from squealing in excitement. She pointed forcefully to the house again, before going back to her search. As she looked, she kept having to make sure Gary wasn’t about to give them away. Sometimes he started talking too loudly and she’s hush him, forcefully. Sometimes he knocked over tins on the ground or started babbling to himself...and she kept having to stop him, wasting time they didn’t have.

This was a mistake.

He was a mistake…

Focus Sherie, focus.

Finally, near the back, she found a suitable ride. Perfect actually. It was a tow along trailer that had a self contained bubble at the front, where you could put a vehicle to move it, one just like her bike. The trailer area was smallish, but suitable. It had a mini fridge, sink, a few storage areas, a tiny bathroom at the back and two slim beds.

First, getting it out.

“Go hold the door.” She whispered to Gary, who actually ran off to do as he was told. With a heavy grunt she started to pull the vehicle from the storage area, hefting with all her might until her arms ached and her legs burned. Halfway to the exit she started to hurt.

Think of John. This is for John.

She managed it out before taking a second to breath. Gary scampered to her side, looking concerned and slightly upset. She frowned up at him from her seat on the ground.

“W-what?” She huffed.

“How were you moving that?” Gary asked. “Didn’t it hurt? Like a whole bunch? Forever?”

Sheryl moaned, standing up. “Well, sometimes you gotta work through the pain.”

“Why?”

Ah, this kid…

“Unpack our bags and get them in the camper.” Sherly grumbled. Thankfully the boy seemed interested in looking inside and ran to see.

Though still sore, Sheryl forced her bike into the bubble to act as an engine. Thankfully the bags were off it now, but looking inside, she could see Gary jumping from bed to bed, a big smile on his face as he made a mess.

Good lord this kid…

Sheryl leaned against the bubble. This was a mistake… and this was her last chance to leave the kid behind. Or at least on Earth anyway. She was tempted, so very, very tempted to just dump him here.I mean, sure he might get blamed for stealing the camper, but he was a kid. They’d let him off easy…

The boy giggled loudly, beds squeaking under his weight as he hopped around like a roided up Roo. As Sheryl put her head in her hand, pinching the bridge of her nose, the boy leapt from the trailer and ran to take a look at the rockets on the back.

This is a mistake.

“HEY!”

Sheryl looked up into the barrel of a gun, she went rigid as a man dressed in his pajamas started to come closer. “Who the hell do you think you are?!” He asked crossly, waving the weapon around.

God damn it, she hadn’t heard the man coming because of all of Gary’s noise!

Still she shifted to an unimpressed stance, scowling slightly. “That supposed to be a trick question?” She asked dryly.

The man huffed and went fumbling for his pocket, not taking his eyes off her. “N-now you just stay right there until my help arrives, or I’ll shoot you! Don’t you make any sudden moves!”

Where did this guy get his dialogue, a cop movie? Sheryl scowled when he pulled out his phone.

“Wassa matter? Can’t handle a lady on your own?” Sheryl scoffed. The gears were turning in her head, trying to think of a way out of this. Thankfully Gary was quiet now, which was making it a lot easier.

She had to kill him. She just needed to do it before he called for this so called help, or else they’d have to make a runner. She tried to lean to one side, inching her hand down her waist to a knife hidden in her boot. Guy was still trying to dial his cell, which was perfect for her. The longer he struggled, the more time she had to arm herself.

She closed her hand around the hilt when the man seemed to notice her strange posture. He straightened his gun out. “Hey! What are you-”

BANG!

Sheryl started, eyes rounded, as the man straightened like a board, then fell to the ground in a heap. Behind him stood Gary, who slapped his hands over his mouth when the man folded before him. A brick clattering down with the guy.

Sheryl blinked.

“O-Oh no! Oh no!” Gary whined, shaking his hands. “I killed him! That not good! Thats super not good!” He grabbed his hair tightly. “I friggen wreck his stuff!”

“Calm down.” Sheryl knelt, feeling the man’s neck. “He has a pulse Gary, you just knocked him out.”

Gary slumped in relief. “Oh thank crap!- Oph!” He flinched. “Sorry…”

“Fer what?”

“For swearing…”

Sheryl stared at him before laughing. “Ah you can swear all you fuckin want. I don’t give a shit. Just be quiet when we’re sneakin around, yeah?”

“Oh.” Gary stared back at her, processing this information, then hunched in on himself and spoke in a very soft voice.

“Fuck.”

Sheryl was… actually amused by this. She chuckled. “Feel good?”

“Yeah.” Gary looked up at her, but seemed a bit gloomy. “It just, dad said I shouldn’t…”

Sheryl darkened as well. “Hmm, he ain’t here now, is he?”

“No…”

Sheryl glanced back down at the man before taking his gun, she inspected it quickly, lining up her sights with it, then checked the chambers.

Empty.

So he was all bluff.

Sheryl tsked, but put it on her bike. Looking over she could see the house was still dark, but the door was open…

“Come with me.” Sheryl ordered before marching to the house. She nudged the door open, looking into the building. She flicked on a few lights once she knew no one was in the shadows.

For such a nice area of town, this sure was a dump. Everything was in a state. Newspapers and used dishes everywhere. There was no art on the walls, hardly any furniture, and it was cramped to hell.

She pushed Gary to the kitchen. “Find some bags and grab some food yeah? I’m gonna look upstairs.”

“Isn’t that stealing-”

“Gary, we’re already stealing. You konked this dude on the head with a brick not five minutes ago.”

“Oh yeah.”

“Just grab the food.”

Sheryl headed up the stairs, to a small bedroom. It was also sparse, the bed was unmade and every surface was covered in junk. She checked a few drawers and looked over the clutter. Then she found something interesting.

“Well, well, well. No wonder this place is a mess.” She said, holding up a tiny baggie of white powder. She opened it, dipping her pinky in and rubbed it on her gums. It dissolves instantly, leaving a bit of her mouth numb. Sheryl smiled. “Hello Basuco, its been a very long time.” She spotted a large amount of the baggies under a shirt. “And you brought the whole family!”

Sheryl wasn’t one for cocaine. She tried to steer clear of it, if mostly because she saw addiction as a weakness. She did, however, dabble in a few when… when John tossed her out. Thankfully she managed to slapped herself out of it a few days in and just stick to beer and smokes.

These would, however, sell very nicely.

She tossed the lot in a bag and kept looking. Eventually she found the ammo for the gun under the bed. Huh, maybe the guy thought the gun was loaded. Then a large wad of cash in his underwear drawer. After stealing her fill she came down, finding Gary struggling with a large bag of food. It was all junk food and things like that, but Sheryl didn’t care.

“Give.” She ordered, snatching it from him. She took everything down to the trailer, before tossing it inside. She looked back to Gary, but the boy was worriedly hunched over the man he knocked out. There was a sizable puddle of blood on the ground now, which she could see from the light of the house.

“Is he gonna be ok?” Gary asked, frowning.

“Hell if I know.” Sheryl scoffed, coming over. “Bleeding like a faucet though.”

“S-so I did kill him?” Gary asked, sniffling a bit.

Ugh!

“What? Your sad that you killed him?” Sheryl frowned. “He was gonna die someday.”

“Yeah, but I killed him! Me!”

“For the love of-” Sheryl knelted, pulled out her knife, and slit his throat in a quick motion. Blood splashed out, but not as much as she expected. He was likely running low, bleeding in the brain. She wiped her blood off on the grass before looking back to her son. “There. Now I killed him.”

Gary stared at her, eyes the size of pin pricks.

“What now?” She asked, exasperated.

“Y-you killed him…”

“Thats right.”

“...Why?”

She rolled her eyes. Again with the why! “To shut you up and because the less people who see us the better.” Sheryl grunted. The boy just stared back, horrified, making her scoff. “Just get in the bloody camper. I’m gonna hide the body.”

Gary slunk away and Sheryl grabbed the corpse by the legs, dragging him into the junk yard, where she covered him with a metal sheet. Her body groaned, unhappy with all the heavy lifting and pulling.

As she finished up, the dark sky rumbled, a few raindrops coming down from above. It was an ominous sign, but also a stroke of good luck. The water would ruin evidence, and the thunder would hide the noise of their take off.

Walking back to their new home, Sheryl could see Gary curled up inside, clutching the bug jar like a lifeline and wrapped tightly under some blankets. She paused, biting her lip and staring at him. He looked pretty messed up…

Well, he’d get used to it. She had grown up around that sort of thing. Maybe not people per say, but animals definitely.

She came to the bike and closed the bubble, climbing on so she could pull the ship into the sky.

“Mom..?”

“Eh?” She didn’t look at him.

“W-why did that guy have to die?” Gary mumbled. “Was it me?”

Sheryl paused again, and then turned to him.

“Gary. In this world, its either you or them.” She said lowly. “Sometimes the best thing to do is make sure there is no them at all. He would have made it harder for us to get away to space. Now that he’s dead, less problems.”

“Oh… ok.” Gary looked to the window as they started to rise in the air. “But why are we going to space?”

Sheryl looked back out the bubbled, which was rippling with raindrops.

“We’re gonna bring John back.”

The ship took off with a rumble, blending into the thunder as they rose to the cosmos.

And one step closer to John.

#final space #Fanfiction #Shonky #background character death #For Better Or Worse Au #sheryl goodspeed #gary goodspeed

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unfolded73 · 5 years ago

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Even the Orchestra in Beautiful (1/1) - schitt’s creek ff

Alexis and Patrick friendship, with a little bit of David x Patrick at the end. Set the day after the events of “Life is a Cabaret.” Rated Gen, 1900 words.

(ao3 link)

___________________________________________________

He was humming, an almost-bounce to his step as he let himself into the theater. Patrick Brewer was not a bouncy person as a rule, but right now his life felt like it was going so well that he could barely contain himself. The store was thriving, the man he loved was going to marry him, and opening night of the play had gone fantastically. Most of the customers in the store that afternoon had heard the engagement news and were effusive in their well-wishes for him and David, or told him they had tickets for the play on one of its remaining nights. By now, Patrick’s cheeks ached from smiling so much.

He’d arrived at the theater well before call, planning to do a quick run-through of his lines; the giddy buzzing in his brain was so intense that he was a little bit terrified he’d walk out on stage tonight and forget everything he was supposed to say. He knew the lines, the choreography, the blocking -- it was all in there, but he feared he wouldn’t be able to summon it when the time came. A quiet moment to take some deep breaths and get into character was what he needed.

“Oh my God!” A feminine voice shouted, and Patrick skidded to a halt in the door of the dressing room.

“Alexis!” He tried not to sound too disappointed that anyone had beaten him to the theater. “What are you doing here so early?”

She shrugged, clearly as put out by not being alone as he was, and flopped down at the makeup table. “I needed some extra time to put on my face,” she said, picking up a bottle of foundation and shaking it. Alexis had her skimpy costume for the opening number on already, but the dramatic eye makeup had yet to make an appearance.

“How’s your mom?” he asked, pulling his costume off the rack and stepping behind the dressing screen set up in the room. He hadn’t seen Moira since her meltdown in the motel, the news that her movie had been shelved cutting short his and David’s engagement celebration.

Alexis didn’t answer, but Patrick didn’t really need her to. David and Alexis had been texting while he was at the store that day, so he already knew the histrionics to which Moira had been subjecting her husband and daughter. David was back at the motel even now, taking over babysitting their mother so that Alexis could get away. He suspected that was the true explanation for Alexis escaping to the theater early.

“David said you had a tough day,” Patrick prodded while he pulled his jeans off.

He heard Alexis snort. “Yeah, you could say that.”

“Do you think she’ll be here tonight?” The director didn’t really need to be at the theater once the show was in production, especially since they had Jocelyn to lead them in vocal warm-ups and give them a pep talk. But it would still be weird, Moira not being backstage.

“She hasn’t gotten out of bed all day, so I doubt it.”

He finished getting dressed in silence. The first time Patrick had put on this costume, he’d felt a bit ridiculous. There had been a reason, after all, that he’d auditioned for Cliff and not the Emcee; Patrick felt like a Cliff, not like someone who could pull off this kind of creepy, hyper-sexualized character in a costume that was at least gently suggestive of bondage gear. But Moira Rose (his future mother-in-law! he remembered with a grimace) was not to be argued with, and he let himself get swept up in her whirlwind of compliments. He’d had a lot of doubts between then and now, but those doubts had been largely allayed. David wasn’t embarrassed by his performance at least, which was high praise.

Smiling to himself, Patrick emerged from behind the screen and sat down next to Alexis in front of the lighted mirrors. He watched as she expertly applied thick liner around her eyes, fascinated in the way that watching anyone performing a skill is fascinating.

It was while studying her reflection that he noticed her bloodshot eyes.

“Alexis, are you all right?”

She stopped and shot him a simpering smile. “I’m fine.”

“Because if there’s anything I can do to help--”

“No. Nope! I’m cool… good. I’m good.”

He knew Alexis well enough now to know what it looked like when she was covering up how miserable she felt. He was already starting to feel like a protective older brother to her, as if he and David were already married and she was truly his sister-in-law. But if she didn’t want to talk to him, he couldn’t force it.

Patrick started working on his own makeup, letting the silence between them stretch out and fill the room.

Alexis finally smacked her eyeliner pen down on the table. “It’s just, no matter what I do I’m going to be letting someone down!”

Inclining his head to one side, Patrick met Alexis’ eyes in the mirror and raised an eyebrow.

“If I go on the trip with Ted, then I’m leaving my mom and my family behind like I always used to do when I was a kid. And my family really needs me right now! But if I don’t meet Ted in the Galapagos like we planned, then he’ll think I’m just flaking out on him again.” She flopped her hands around in the air in front of her before picking up a mascara tube. “Either way, I’m irresponsible and unreliable.” Those two words carried the weight of every time Alexis must have heard them said about herself.

“If you want to go, then David and your parents will understand that this trip is important for you and Ted.”

“David will just remind me of all the other times that he had to take care of Mom because I wasn’t around.”

“And if you don’t want to go, then Ted will understand that you feel the need to put your family first right now.”

“Yeah, maybe Ted would understand because he’s the most patient, understanding person on the planet, except that I’ve dumped him before! Twice!”

Patrick winced. “Oh yeah.”

“So if he’s thousands of miles away, living in some tent and eating, I don’t know, goji berries and granola or whatever, and he gets a text from me saying that I’m not coming, is he really going to think logically about my priorities? Or is he just going to assume I bailed on him?”

Ted might think that, Patrick thought, especially since he couldn’t really imagine Alexis in a tent eating goji berries or whatever. Also he wasn’t sure Ted would have access to text messages. Patrick tried to give her a reassuring smile. “Ted loves you. Your family loves you.”

“Ugh!” She leaned close to the mirror and went back to her makeup, apparently unsatisfied with Patrick’s performance as a confidante.

Not for the first time, Patrick felt frustration with Moira that her adult children had to plan their lives around whether they were giving their mother enough attention. While he was sure she was legitimately gutted by what had happened with her movie, he also knew Moira was probably reveling in the focus she was getting from her husband and kids, and she was likely milking it for all it was worth. While Mrs. Rose often showed affection for her family, more now than when Patrick had first gotten to know David, she was still a fundamentally selfish person.

“I think you should go on the trip,” he said finally, focusing on his own eyeliner and pointedly not looking at Alexis.

She didn’t respond at first, which made Patrick think she was still mad at him, but then finally she said in a small voice. “What if I don’t want to go?”

“Then… I think you need to ask yourself why not.”

Alexis reached over and pawed at his arm until he moved the eyeliner away from his face. “Here, let me do that, you’re hopeless,” she said, turning his chair to face her.

“I’m not hopeless,” Patrick grumbled, but he submitted to Alexis anyway, admitting at least to himself that she’d be better at applying his eyeliner than he was.

“I need to be here to help plan your wedding,” she said with a tiny smile.

“We haven’t even set a date yet. You’ll be back in plenty of time to help plan the wedding.” Patrick was suddenly struck by how different it felt, talking about his wedding with David than it had been when he was engaged to Rachel, when any mention of his eventual wedding sent him spiraling into a near panic attack. Now he was excited. Happy.

“Look at the ceiling,” Alexis murmured, and Patrick let her work in silence for a bit. Finally she said, “I’m afraid. About the trip.”

“I’m sure you can outrun those giant turtles, Alexis, even in high heels.”

“Ha ha,” she said, giving Patrick the same sneer she often gave her brother, and it oddly warmed his heart. “No, I’m afraid that a trip like this is just going to show Ted that I’m not… that we’re not right for each other.”

“How so?”

“Because I’m not good at that stuff! Outdoorsy stuff. Animal stuff. I’m afraid I’m gonna get there and I’m going to do something stupid, or I’ll be unable to hide the fact that I hate it, and Ted is going to decide that I’m not worth it.”

“Alexis, I don’t know who Givenchy is or why it matters. David thinks a double play is a sex thing.”

“Eww.”

He rolled his eyes. “My point is, you can be very different people and still make it work. Ted knows who you are. If he truly loves you, then seeing you roughing it is not going to change that. Neither is a few months of separation, if it comes to that.”

Alexis looked down at her lap. “Thanks, Patrick.”

~*~

“Hey,” he said into the phone. “How’s your mother?”

“Ugh, don’t ask.” David blew out a breath. “I thought you’d be warming up your voice by now.”

“Yeah, Jocelyn is rounding everyone up.” Patrick glanced around at the chaos of the dressing room. “I just wanted to tell you I love you.”

“You didn’t need to call me just to say that.”

“I know. I wanted to.” Patrick stepped out into the hallway. “I wanted to make sure that you knew that I love everything about you, even the stuff that you think makes you difficult. I love that you’re difficult.”

“What brought this on?” David’s voice broke a little bit on the question.

“Nothing,” he said. There was no time to get into Alexis’ issues right now, and it was her story to tell anyway. “Just don’t ever doubt my love for you. Okay?”

“Okay.” David sniffled. “I wish I was there to see you tonight.”

“You don’t need to come to every performance, David; it’s perfectly fine.”

“I know, but I like watching you.”

“Oh, you like watching me,” Patrick said with a grin.

“On stage. But, okay, yes, also in other places.” David exhaled loudly, like he was shaking the conversation off before it got too intimate. Neither of them had the time for that. “Anyway, good luck.”

“It’s ‘break a leg’.”

“Break a leg, honey.”

#schitt's creek #schitt's creek ff #david & alexis #david x patrick #david x patrick ff #my fic

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 6 years ago

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Of Blood and Roses

Chapter Twenty-one

Master List | Loki Laufeyson Master List

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Loki x Lauren | Word Count: 6154 Warnings: Small angst, mostly fluff

Loki led Lauren down the hall, trying to figure out how to tell her about Sara and Benny. He knew she would worry. It would leave a dark stain on her otherwise bright day. He didn’t want that. She'd been so happy and done so well with Thor's guests. He didn't want to spoil her moment of triumph, but if he didn’t tell her and she found out later, she would be angry with him.

When they came upon the inner sanctum, the garden within the palace with its flowing rivers and many bridges, Loki drew her from the main path down one rarely used where the broad leaves from the bushes brushed his shoulders.

“Peaches? Where we goin’?” she giggled, her boots clicking merrily on the tiles.

“Just here.” The path emptied out at a narrow bridge which crossed a slow-moving stream giving them access to a small island where a wooden bench waited in seclusion, hidden from view in dense foliage.

“Loki?” She frowned at their surroundings. “While this is real pretty, I know you by now. What’s wrong?”

He encouraged her to sit with him and took her hands. “I spoke with Heimdall about the children. He’s been keeping an eye on things for me.” Instantly her heart jumped in her chest. “Don’t panic, darling. They’re alright.”

She tugged her hands from his to lay them on his chest and curl her fingers into his clothing. “You wouldn’t be bringin’ it up like this if it wasn’t somethin’. Loki what’s happened?”

He took a deep breath and spit it out. “SHIELD is no longer watching over them. They’ve been turned over to the Marshal’s care.”

“No…” she whispered. “Marabeth will hate it. She’ll hate it, Loki! You have to go get them. Get Sara and Benny before she hurts them again!”

“Lauren.” Loki took her by the waist and pulled her close. “I spoke with Agent Hill. She, the Captain, and Stark are doing everything they can to see your family returned to their custody.”

“Loki, Loki, no!” She gave a wild shake of her head. “You don’t understand. Marabeth is accustomed to a certain lifestyle. The Marshal’s won’t give that to her. She’ll hurt the babies!” She clawed at his chest, her face pale. Tears had begun to spill down her cheeks. “Please!”

“Lauren, my very heart. I would do anything for you, but I can’t. Not yet.”

“Why?” she cried, her face crumbling as she curled toward him. “Why?”

“If I were to go to Midgard and spirit them away, everyone would know it was me. Then when we returned it would be worse for you and for them. Marabeth would have every reason to keep you from them forever.”

She burst into wild tears, threw her arms around him, and buried her face in his neck. “It’s not fair! They’re just babies!”

“I know. I know, my love.” Loki soothed her with gentle hands. “Even though SHIELD has been told to stand down, Agent Hill still has a team watching over them, and I still have a direct link to Sara. If she calls out for me, I will go to them at once. At once, Lauren. And they have Usun. I promise you they are safe.” His heart broke for her all over again.

“They’re gonna be so sad and scared. I just wish I could see them. Tell them it’s gonna be alright. I just want to hold them.”

“I would give them to you in a heartbeat, but if I took them from your sister, Lauren we could never return to Midgard. Is that what you want? To never see your father or Cissy again? To never see Barnes and the others?”

She sniffled, but her tears had slowed. “No… but they’re still so little.”

Loki set her away from him and cupped her tear ravaged face. “I know, darling. I know. But children are resilient. They will be alright. You’ll see. Samuel and Marabeth will make a mistake, and when they do, I will see the children returned to you. They shall never again feel sad or afraid or alone. We can bring them to Asgard where they will have friends and adventures beyond their wildest imaginings. They will be loved, adored, and cherished. They will be happy. We must only be patient a little longer. I swear it, Lauren. I feel it!”

“You do?” she whispered, her eyes wet and lashes dark and spiky.

The sorrow filled jade green her eyes had become set an ache in his heart. “Yes, my love. Oh, yes. I feel it like the stillness which hangs heavy with foreknowledge of a storm brewing in the distance.”

A watery smile twitched her lips. “Silver-tongued devil,” she said, her attempt to begin pulling herself back together.

He drew her in and kissed her, hating the heaviness the news had put back in her heart. Hating the sadness it had once more laid upon her soul. He tasted her tears, and they were bitter, so he poured his love into his magic. Let it seep from his heart. Let it wash from his soul. He coaxed her to respond, to give herself over to him. To let herself succumb to the mindlessness of pleasure and know nothing but the desire to be here, with him, in a moment lost to time.

The moment dragged onward as he encouraged her to respond. As he nipped into the plump flesh of her lower lip and gave it a gentle tug. He soothed the mark he’d left behind with his tongue and slipped it into her mouth when she moaned for him. Releasing her face, he took her by the thighs and lifted her to straddle his, held her close and kneaded the flesh of her beautiful bottom. He trailed his fingers down the backs of her legs only for her to squeal and jerk against him.

“How did I not know you’re ticklish there?” he asked with a wicked smile.

“Cause that’s not usually the part of my thigh you’re runnin’ your fingers over.” She squeaked and giggled when he tightened his grip. “Loki, stop!”

What sorrow had lived in her eyes had vanished when they’d filled with desire, but had been replaced now with amusement and a hint of warning for him to cut it out.

“And if I won’t?”

She smiled slowly, seductively, and made his cock throb. Already half mast after kissing her, Loki wondered how angry she’d be if they skipped the stables and returned to their chambers where she could do a different sort of riding.

Lauren’s arms left their place around his neck, and her hands descended his chest, her gaze following their path as she followed the folds of leather and cloth. “You forget, peaches,” she purred, returning her gaze to his when her touch reached his lower abdomen. She brought their mouths close together, lips almost touching, eyes heavy-lidded and sparkling. “I know where you’re ticklish too.”

Her hands shot to his ribs and dug in, causing him to shout and jerk away, sending them tumbling off the bench and into the grass. “Gah! Stop, woman!”

Explosive giggles escaped her as she continued to attack his ribs, until he rolled them over, pinned her down, and dragged her wrists over her head.

“If it was a tumble in the grass you wanted, pet, you need only ask,” Loki smirked.

She snorted a laugh. “If one day I walked up to you and said, “Loki, I want you to take me to the garden and tumble me in the grass,” you’d be so damn surprised you’d swallow that silver-tongue of yours.”

“Maybe, but then I would take you outside and thoroughly tumble you. I’d tumble you so hard, darling, your small bottom would be covered in grass stains.” She burst out laughing, and Loki released her hands to settle half his weight on the ground.

Lauren looked up at him hovering a bit above her and brought her hand up to tuck his hair behind his ear. “I’m sorry for reactin’ like that. I know you’re right about not just snatchin’ Benny and Sara up and runnin’ off with them. I just love them so much.”

Her eyes shimmered, but no new tears fell. “Never apologize for loving them with all your heart, sweet. Your passion in their care and their defence is something to applaud. If I did not wholly agree with Agent Hill, they would already be in your arms, but taking them away without just cause will only make it harder in the long run to keep them.”

“I know you’re right. And I believe you when you say they will be free of her eventually. It’s just the waitin’ which is hard.” She sighed and looked away.

“Come, darling.” Loki pushed to his feet and pulled her up on hers. “Let’s go acquaint you with your stallion. The visit will help cheer you up.” Her smile immediately brightened, but before she could head back across the bridge, Loki wrapped his arms around her and hugged her tight. “I would do absolutely anything for you, Lauren. Anything you asked of me. If you really wanted, I would go this instant and collect Benny and Sara; laws be damned. You do know that, yes?”

“I know, Loki. But anything?” she snickered. “What if I wanted you to… redecorate our rooms in pink?”

“If you wanted it, really wanted it, I would do it. I might hate it, but I would do it because you asked it of me. That’s the true power of an Ástvinur. It’s why Dark Gods have such light partners. Because you would never ask me to do something terrible.”

“Terrible? What would I ask that could be terrible?” Her nose was wrinkled adorably, and her brow furrowed, her gentle heart and sweet nature unable to fathom anything genuinely horrible.

Loki sank his hand into her hair to cup her nape. “Lauren. I would break worlds for you.”

“Huh?”

He chuckled and shook his head at her naivete. “Darling, I have the power to lay waste to planets. You could tell me you wanted to rule, say, the Mo’bk, and I could make that happen. You’re my guiding light. My moral compass. If you wanted it, I would get it for you, but that’s why the darkest of us are given the best of you.”

She blinked rapidly as his meaning soaked in. “But… I didn’t even really wanna be a princess. Why would I want to rule a planet?”

“Exactly!” Loki laughed, lifted her from the ground, and spun in a circle. “I was a Dark God desiring nothing but power, only to be given the most humble of Ástvinur. How the Norns must laugh at me.”

“They’ll laugh even harder if you dump us both in the creek!”

He put her down and ran a brush of magic over them both. No one would ever be able to tell she’d just cried her heart out. “I would never,” he quipped. “And even if I did, it’s not as if I couldn’t easily dry us both out.”

“Be that as it may,” she gave the tail of her coat a flick, “I’d like to stay dry and get to try out this fancy ridin’ coat you made me. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’d been readin’ some of Cissy’s southern magazines what with the big bell skirt yesterday, and the frilly faux bustle today. What’s next? Corsets and parasols?” she teased.

“Are parasols the umbrellas made of lace?” Loki asked, having seen a few during the fair.

“Yup.” Lauren giggled and headed over the bridge, a spring in her step and a lightness returned to her heart.

He would have to remember that a trip to the barns could so elevate her mood. “An interesting idea. If I made you one, would you use it? I can see the ladies of Thor’s court going absolutely mad for them. The craftsmen would be clamouring for a closer look to see how it’s fashioned.”

Lauren chuckled. “Or you could introduce the Art of the Fan.”

“The fan?” Already aware of the subject, he played ignorant to see what she knew of it.

“Mm,” Lauren hummed. “I read about it once. It was meant for communicatin’ back in a time when a woman’s ability to speak freely was completely restricted. But even though it originated from a terrible injustice, a few of the flirty ones are kind of fun.”

“Like what, darling?” he asked, holding out a red and black lace fan.

She turned to face him, plucked it from his fingers, and continued to walk backward. “I only remember a couple, but this,” she opened it fully and placed it in front of her face with her right hand, “means follow me. The same action but with the left hand is, I wish to be acquainted.” She snapped the fan closed sharply. “That indicated jealousy. A slow fan,” she gently fanned her face, “means, I’m married. A quick fan. I’m engaged. A left-handed twirl was, I wish to be rid of you.” She held the fan up and did a haughty nose lift with the action that had him chuckling. “Drawin’ a closed fan through your hands was I hate you, but drawin’ it across your cheek was I love you.” She came to a stop and gently touched the handle to her lips.

“And that one?” Loki asked, closing the distance between them.

Lauren lowered the fan. “Kiss me.”

He did so with enthusiasm, finding the teasing glances and shy smiles she’d used while playing with the fan somewhat stimulating. “I’m not sure I like the idea of you carrying a fan and mingling among the court.”

“Why?”

“You have stunning eyes. When the rest of your face is hidden and all one can see is the emerald green glow it is most… enticing,” he growled.

“My what big teeth you have, Mr. Wolf,” she purred, stroking the fan down his cheek.

Standing just off the main path, Loki snagged her by the waist and jerked her up tight against him. Her quip and red jacket had his grin growing mischievous. “All the better to eat you with, Little Red.” He growled a second time, letting his eyes turn gold.

She belted out a laugh, snapped the fan open to conceal them both, and kissed him hard and fast.

***

Eventually, they made it to the barn, but Lauren didn’t mind the meandering route as it had included more teasing, more kissing, and more stolen moments with Loki. Even though he’d brought her distressing news, she couldn’t help but feel happy getting to spend time with him. She may worry for Sara and Benny, the thought of them sad or lonely just broke her heart, but she trusted Loki to save them if necessary.

He’d tried to spirit her fan away, but she’d refused to give it back, using it along the way to torment him with “come hither” looks over the scalloped edge or play at conversing with him. Distracting him with a slow fan or a stroke of it over her cheek just to see if she could make him lose the thread of conversation. It worked more often than not and set her giggling each time.

But now the scent of the barn, of dust and hay, sent a giddy thrill through her. She’d been looking forward to this all day. New horse, new tack, new experience. Lauren was itching to get in the saddle.

“They’ll have moved him to a stall near ours,” Loki said and motioned to a passing boy. “Let Baron know the Princess requires her horse saddled.”

“Yes, Prince,” the boy bowed and hurried off.

“I could do it, Loki. The groomin’ is half the fun.”

“Yes, but I assumed you’d like to see Sleipner before your ride. He’ll be quite unhappy if you don’t visit.”

“Oh!” she gasped. “Please don’t tell him I’d forgotten.”

“Of course, darling.”

Loki led Lauren through the aisles past more curious horsey faces. She wanted to stop and pet every one, stroke noses and comb forelocks, but refrained. Maybe another day she could linger in the barns. Maybe one day she would just put her foot down and spend the whole day, refusing to leave until she knew everyone’s name and had visited with every pretty pony.

“You will have lots of time to spend in the barn, Lauren,” Loki chuckled.

She should have known he would now. “There’s just so many! I want to touch them all!”

He chuckled a second time and motioned her down the darkened aisle which led to the massive stall where already a dark face hung over the door. Sleipner whickered when they appeared.

“He welcomes the return of the Lady of Stars and Fire.”

Lauren couldn’t help but blush and beam, smiling so wide her cheeks hurt when she rubbed his large cheek. “You’re a sweet talker.” She peeked in the stall, still having a hard time believing he had eight legs. “Is it only Odin who rides you?”

“I’ve been on his back a few times, but generally he is Father’s mount.”

“Thor?”

“Definitely no. Thor prefers his own mode of transportation to that of a horse unless absolutely necessary.”

Sleipner blew out a breath and whickered.

“Ah, yes. They did try once,” Loki smirked. “I’d forgotten.”

“And? What happened?” Lauren asked, gently stroking the stallion’s velvet soft muzzle.

“Thor tried to ride with Mjolnir. Things ended… poorly.”

Lauren frowned. “I don’t understand.”

“Thor hung Mjolnir from the saddle.”

“Oh! My stars.” She looked up at Sleipner. “Yes, I suppose that would be a problem.”

“I think it would have been highly amusing if Thor had discovered Sleipnir was worthy to wield his power.”

She giggled and grinned at Loki. “You would.”

The stallion wuffled something suspiciously like a chuckle.

“He says he doesn’t want the responsibility. He’d rather court lovely mares and spend the day sleeping.”

“You would,” Lauren laughed and leaned her cheek against his face. “Next time I visit, I should bring your brush with me. Would you like that? Or are you spoiled with groomin’?”

His lower lip went lax and quivered as Sleipnir pouted and looked pitifully sad.

“Liar,” Loki snickered.

Lauren chuckled when the stallion pinned his ears at Loki. “Everyone enjoys a good groomin’. Even me. One more won’t hurt nothin’. Next time I’ll bring a brush, but for now, we should probably go see if Snøstrom is behavin’ for Baron.”

“Highly doubtful.”

She rolled her eyes at Loki. “He may surprise you.”

Sleipnir and Loki exchanged a look. “Sure, darling. You keep believing that.”

Loki took her by the hand and after one more pet of Sleipnir’s nose led her away, out the barn the opposite direction to how they’d arrived, and down another corridor where more pretty faced horses whickered and called to her from their stalls.

“There are so many of them. I didn’t realize. I feel like the barns go on forever!” Lauren laughed, her belly full of giddy excitement. She made to say more only to gasp when Baron stumbled backward out a stall, fell, and somersaulted ass over teakettle as her gran would say. When the big white head of her stallion snaked out of the stall after him, teeth bared and ears pinned, Lauren gasped.

“What do y’all think you’re doin’?” she asked sharply, marching down the aisle with swift strides.

Snøstrom’s head jerked up and back and swung toward her. His eyes widened and ears swept forward. Then he ducked his chin and let his ears fall to the sides as he gave her big sad eyes.

“Don’t you be givin’ me that look. You been bullyin’ Baron?”

He shook his mane and gave an exaggerated whicker.

“A likely story,” she scoffed and reached to help the boy still sprawled on the floor to his feet. “And here I was tellin’ Loki and Sleipnir how well behaved I thought you’d be. You alright, Baron?”

“I-I-I’m fine,” the boy stuttered as he took her hand. “You look… wow…”

Lauren laughed and patted his cheek. “Thank you kindly, good sir.” Then she turned to face her troublemaking steed. Crossing her arms, she glared at him standing there trying to look contrite. “And just what was he takin’ offence to this time?”

“There’s a bur in his forelock,” Baron murmured. “I may have mentioned cutting it out.”

“Baron!” she gasped and shot the boy a displeased look. “My goodness. The trouble y’all get into. Give me the comb.” The boy quickly handed it over. “And you, come here.” She motioned to the pouting stallion.

Snøstrom lowered his head so Lauren could begin to comb the knot from the thick lock of hair which fell down the stallion’s face.

“How much experience do you have with horses, Baron?” she asked, shoot Loki a sharp glance when he leaned against the wall and watched, his smug grin present at having been right about Snøstrom all along.

“I’m… new, milady. I did more stall cleaning than horsemanship until the other day.”

“Come here then. You can learn as we go. I’m assumin’ you can give a proper groomin’?” Lauren cast a glance over Snøstrom and frowned. “Maybe not.” She looked into Snøstrom’s dark eye and ran an apologetic hand over his cheek.

“I’m sorry, milady. Keil came and told me you wanted him tacked up, but I haven’t… I mean, I don’t yet know how, and with his reputation… no one wanted to help…” The boy looked at his feet; his cheeks stained red in embarrassment.

She frowned and glanced at Loki who appeared equally as put out as she did. “Well, then. I guess we’ll just have to get you a teacher.”

“Who?” he asked, blinking his eyes of chocolate brown.

“Me,” Lauren laughed and proceeded to show the boy how to work the knots in Snøstrom’s mane out by working from the tips up, eventually loosening the bur and plucking it out, taking only a few strands of white hair with it. She then plucked a large rubber brush with many hard nubs from the bin hanging on Snøstrom’s door. “We call this a curry comb on Midgard. You want to use it first in circles with good pressure to help lift the dirt and old hair to the surface. Then you take the soft bristled brush and use it to wick the loose hair and dirt off. Eventually you’ll get coordinated enough to do one with each hand, cuttin’ down how long it takes to groom a horse, but for now, you can do one and then finish with the other.” She handed both to Baron after finishing Snøstrom’s neck and motioned to his shoulder. “Come on. He’ll behave now. Do his body and back. Careful along his flank in case he’s ticklish. The last thing you want is to take a kick, and when you get to his legs, only use the soft brush.”

Once the boy began working under her watchful eye, Lauren returned to Snøstrom’s mane and started working the knots out of it as well. “I suppose he didn’t get dried down or groomed after you washed him down yesterday?”

The boy flushed bright red. “No, milady,” he murmured.

“Mm. From the state of his mane, I gathered. You know, Loki, you could help instead of standin’ round lookin’ pretty.”

“I thought you said grooming was half the fun?” he smirked, but wandered through the door and ran his hand down Snøstrom’s side before running fingers laced in green magic through the stallion’s tail.

“Cheater,” Lauren huffed.

“It is but a trick of air, my heart,” Loki chuckled moving around Baron to step into her back and pluck the comb from her fingers. “Would you like to learn?” he murmured against her ear.

“Yes.” She was breathless with excitement.

“Bring your magic to your hand. That’s it,” he encouraged, watching the threads of purple curl around her fingers. “Now say glatte, it means smooth or straighten, and run your fingers through the hair.”

“Glatte,” Lauren murmured and giggled as the strands appeared to untangle and light flat all on their own with the passage of her hand.

“Fantastic, darling!” Loki chuckled. “Once you learn to work water I can teach you how to cleanse yourself as I do, though that spell is admittedly a little trickier as you must focus your intention and not giggle.”

“It’s just so fun!” she giggled again and glanced at Baron whose brushes had stopped moving in favour of him gaping at her. She sent him a wink which made him blush and turn his attention back to what he was doing with extra focus. “Why don’t I finish up and you go get my tack please, Baron.”

He handed over the brushes and hurried out the door without looking up; a mumbled, “Yes, Highness,” following him.

“I’ve been informed Oddr came through and checked the fit for you. Snøstrom should have no objection to any of the new items you selected. The silver-grey of the tack will look striking against his white hide and with you and your red jacket on his back, my heart you will be quite the pair.”

“You think?” she smiled and batted her lashes at Loki, making him chuckle.

“As you well know, woman. Honestly, Lauren,” he huffed as a cloud of white hair flew into the air. “You will be wearing a white jacket by the time you finish. Here.” He snapped his fingers, and Snøstrom fairly glowed his coat was so clean.

What had collected on her was gone as well, and she eyed Loki with amusement over Snøstrom’s back. “Cheater.”

“Think of it as expediting things. I know how badly you wish to be in the saddle.”

“Loki? I don’t like that no one helped Baron when he asked for it.”

“Neither do I,” he agreed, eyeing Snøstrom as the stallion eyed him. “Perhaps it was a mistake to put the boy in charge of your steed’s care.”

“I don’t think so. He just needs a guidin’ hand. Maybe if I’m gonna be workin’ with Volstagg’s daughter, we can get Baron to look after her horse too? We promised Daven a sweet mount for Hedda. One a bit more tolerant to a novice groom might be good for Baron. I already know this one will give him grief if he makes a mistake.” She poked Snøstrom in the cheek when mischief lit his eyes. “That wasn’t permission.”

“It is a solid idea, my sweet.”

Lauren nodded as she looked down at Snøstrom’s big hooves. “Loki? Is there a reason y’all don’t seem to have hoof picks?”

“Pick up his hoof and find out,” Loki chuckled.

“What are you up to, Mr. Mischief?” When he only grinned at her, Lauren ran her hand down the stallion’s foreleg and tugged at it. He lifted it for her without resistance, leaving Lauren gaping in amazement. “They’re solid?” Even that wasn’t quite right. Where an earthly horse had a hard hoof which protected a slightly elevated soft center called a Frog, Snøstrom’s center, also raised, was as thick and strong as the dark outer hoof. “Amazin’.”

“It’s one of the reasons they can run as they do. There is no need for things like horseshoes when the entire hoof is protected.”

“But don’t they grow out? Like fingernails?”

“No. They grow more like bones, eventually gaining size and density as they age. When we visit the mares with their foals, I will see if one will be willing to show you.”

“Today?” she asked, excited at the idea of playing with a few babies.

“We’ll see.”

She pouted. “You sound like Daddy every time Cissy would ask for a new doll.”

“And did she usually get the doll?”

Lauren grinned slyly. “Yes.”

“Then I guess we’ll have to go see the mares.”

She laughed and ducked beneath Snøstrom’s chin to throw herself at Loki. “I promise to make it worth your while later.”

“How much later?” Loki asked.

“Tonight,” Lauren smiled, threading her hands into his hair. “After all, didn’t you say somethin’ about teachin’ me to work water in the bath?”

“I did.” His arm banded her waist. “But I think you are the one who will most benefit from that lesson.”

“Oh really? Did I forget to tell you I was a distance swimmer in school?” She tugged at his hair until he lowered his head so she could whisper in his ear. “You’ll never guess how long I can hold my breath for.”

“Wicked, teasing, imp,” he muttered as Baron returned with his arms full of tack. “You’ll have to give me a demonstration… later.”

“Mm.” Lauren purred, “I can’t wait,” and went to show Baron how to tack up a mount properly.

***

Their hands swung, fingers linked together, as Loki led Lauren through the stable yard to one of the larger rectangular sand arenas. It was empty this time of day. What exercising needed to be done had been completed that morning, allowing the staff to take time for themselves in the midafternoon before returning for evening feeding and chores.

Loki had participated in the routine enough times to know it well but was only mildly surprised to find quite a few people milling about. It hadn’t been a secret that Lauren would be taking Snøstrom out for their first ride today, and after their introduction, Loki imagined people expected something unusual from their interaction today as well.

She led the big white beast with nothing but a light hand on loose reins, and he plodded along on her other side as docile as an old dog.

Loki had to admit she’d done a masterful job picking the silver-grey tack. A steel grey saddle pad protected Snøstrom’s white hide from the intricately worked leather of the saddle. White wool padded the girth which ran beneath his belly, and the thin straps of the breast collar used to keep the saddle up where it belonged if they were flying across the fields.

A thought which gave Loki heart palpitations, but he wouldn’t put it past her.

The bridle was the same silver grey, but the crystals and sparkly bits Loki had thought excessive, shone and gleamed in the sun, peeking through the heavy white forelock in a rather pleasing manner. Snøstrom had definitely liked it. The vain beast had preened and tossed his head around when Lauren had slipped the bit gently in his mouth, making sure Baron was paying close attention to how she didn’t bang Snøstrom in the teeth with the bit and fit the bridle over the stallion’s ears.

Loki stepped away to open the gate and held it as they passed inside. Like any competent horsewoman, Lauren checked her tack, the tightness of the saddle's girth, and the length of the stirrups before sending him a sweet, excited smile.

“Can I get a leg up? He’s taller than I’m used to.”

“Of course, darling.” Loki made his way inside, collected her bent leg, and boosted her up onto Snøstrom’s back before moving to the stallion’s head. “Be careful with my mate. She is the best thing to ever happen to Asgard.” He spoke to the horse in his language and didn’t release the beast’s bridle until Snøstrom nodded.

“What did you tell him?” Lauren asked.

“To be careful with you. You need to get the feel of each other. Go easy with each other to start, my heart.”

Loki moved back toward the gate which he closed and leaned against the top rail, watching as she gathered the reins and gently pressed her calves into the stallion’s side. Snøstrom moved out for her with a confident stride, even though this was his first time under saddle. While a Midgardian mount would buck and kick and likely fuss as Dragon had for him, Asgardian steeds were too smart for that. Lauren and Snøstrom were a pair and to ride together would bring them both happiness.

Soon they were moving together as if they had been partners for years and Lauren’s laughter rang out when Snøstrom speed up into a slow canter, taking them around the arena at a steady clip.

“She is beautiful,” Thor said as he leaned on the rail beside Loki.

“She’s always beautiful, but yes. Something about seeing her on the back of a horse is quite exquisite.”

She rode up to the rail, her face alight. “Jumps? Loki would you make me jumps?”

“Lauren…” he hesitated.

“Please?” she begged.

Snøstrom stomped and nodded his head up and down.

Loki rolled his eyes. “Fine, but you must wear this.” He held out the same type of helmet she’d worn in many of her pictures.

“Of course! That was gonna be my next request.” She had Snøstrom sidling up to the rail so she could pluck it from his fingers. “I’m not silly enough to try jumpin’ without one.”

“Mm,” Loki hummed. “Of course. How silly of me.”

“Guess it’s a good thing you’re cute. Make up for those foolish tendencies,” she quipped, making Thor chuckle when she winked at him.

“Perhaps you should remember to tease after you get what you want, pet.” Loki flicked his hand out and reproduced the set of sixteen jumps she’d had at home. They ranged in size and shape, and though he wanted to, he didn’t insult her skill by lowering them. “Have fun, my heart. Just… careful fun. He is much more powerful than your Midgardian mounts.”

She laughed and reached behind her to pat Snøstrom’s hindquarters. “I can feel that already!”

They turned and cantered off, moving at a good clip around the arena, allowing Snøstrom a chance to look over the obstacles. The people who’d been milling around, attempting to appear busy while waiting to see what would happen next, had begun to gather at the rails.

She slowed Snøstrom to a walk, clearly mapping the route in her mind, then leaned forward and stroked both hands down his neck. Her lips moved, but whatever she spoke of he couldn’t make out, but Snøstrom’s ears pricked forward and his head lifted. A quiver ran through his body as his muscles bunched and Lauren gathered the reins. She took a deep breath, and they were off.

It wasn’t fast and flashy, but it was a lesson in schooling for a horse who’d never taken jumps under saddle, or even been under saddle, before today. She talked to him gently as they went. Her hands were soft. Her seat firm. She moved with him, her body flowing up and over the jumps with incredible grace, and for his part, Snøstrom didn’t hesitate.

The stallion curled his legs tight to his body and cleared them all with air to spare. They were perfectly in sync, and her voice carried as she approached the wide double fence near where Thor and Loki stood watching.

“Easy. Easy,” Lauren cooed, gently collecting him back when he tried to charge the fence. “That’s a boy.”

Three more jumps and they’d cleared them all. Lauren slowed Snøstrom down to a walk and thumped her fist against his shoulder. “You did so good!” she squealed and laid herself along his neck to hug him.

If a horse could look smug, Snøstrom did.

“Well done, little sister!” Thor cheered causing the rest of the people watching to also break out in applause.

She jerked up and blushed deeply. “Oh, my! Well, thank y’all!” Lauren dropped her chin and went back to petting and praising her mount, cooling him off as he circled the arena slowly.

“She rides with a confidence and abandon I remember seeing in your mother.”

Loki turned to find Odin standing a few feet away, Sleipnir resting on four legs beside him. “Father.”

“It has been an age since I’ve seen such joy.” A small smile curled Odin’s lip. Then his gaze drifted down to the strip of grass beneath the arena railing, and a quiet chuckle filled the air. “Her joy makes Asgard bloom.”

Loki whipped around and looked down to find small pink flowers cropping up all around the arena. Then he looked to where Lauren had let the reins go to scrub both her hands over Snøstrom’s neck, happily chattering away.

With every step Snøstrom took, wisps of violet magic drifted from his hooves into the grass along the railing. Seconds after disappearing into the earth, the flowers bloomed. By the time she’d circled the arena, it was ringed in flowers.

“Changing the world,” Loki murmured, a smile spreading across his lips. “One step at a time.”

Next Chapter

#Of Blood and Roses #Loki Laufeyson #loki #Loki Laufeyson fanfiction #Loki x Lauren #god of mischief #god of mischief fanfiction #asgard au #avengers au #southern belle

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mythicalsecretsanta · 7 years ago

Text

My Side of Mcgregor's (G)

This gift is for: @one-true-houselight To assuage cabin fever over the winter break, Rhett and Link go exploring. Link is cold, and Rhett tells his friend all about the new book he’s been reading. (Your) requests were funny, banter, and RandL as kids (platonic). I hope I delivered. From your Secret Santa, @archionblu

Link to AO3, or read below:

Christmas-time in Buies Creek was a strange dichotomy of excitement and boredom. On the one hand, there was no school. There was family from out of town, there was lots of food and presents, there was music and general cheer. On the other hand, there were a lot of stuffy adults who they had to be polite to and there was nothing to do.

But Rhett and Link were capable of anything, if they put their minds together. Even finding something to do on Christmas Eve in their stupidly small North Carolina town.

It had snowed heavily the past couple of days, but that didn’t prevent Rhett and Link from going out and exploring. The house was too crowded, especially with Cole home from college lording his older-brother-ness over Rhett’s head at every opportunity. So they donned their winter gear, boots, thick pants, hats, and gloves before heading outside.

The first thing they did was build a snowman to look like their math teacher Mr. Leibforth. They found sticks for his arms and pebbles for his small, beady eyes, and a piece of bark to represent the flat line of his unamused mouth.

They took great fun in pelting Mr. Snow-Leibforth with snowballs, which quickly devolved into pelting each other with snowballs. A truce was mutually called when Rhett took a snowball directly to the eye, tipping over backwards into the snow. He laid there for several long moments, to the point Link started to worry he might have actually hurt him, but the bigger boy just started flapping his long arms and legs, like a giant awkward bird and made a snow angel. Link laughed and flopped down to join him.

They did everything it was possible for little boys to do in the snow–

“I think mine is better.”

“How is that even possible? My name is easier to write!”

“I’ve had more practice.”

“That’s lame, man. Who practices peeing in the snow?”

–until they’d completely exhausted their list of winter activities. They’d sledded down the hill, they’d wrestled, they’d built an igloo.

“Do you want to go back in?”

“Do you?”

“…Want to go to McGregor’s and check out the abandoned house instead?”

“Weren’t we avoiding that one because it’s, like, two seconds from falling over?”

“It’ll be fine man. You worry too much. Let’s go.”

When they got past their neighbor Mcgregor’s house and onto the back ten-acre lot there to the abandoned cabin they had found last summer, Rhett had to admit at least to himself that maybe it was a bit more decrepit and dangerous-looking than he remembered. But hey– what was life without a little adventure?

They had to crawl in through a window, Rhett pulling off one of the loose boards over the long-since broken panes. Inside it was dark, but that was normal for the places they like to explore. What was less normal was the way the ceiling was bowed in in the northwest corner of what they thought might have been the living room, so they endeavoured to stay away from that area. Unfortunately, that didn’t leave them a whole lot else to explore.

As they poked through the empty cupboards in the small kitchen they talked about the things they had been up to since they saw each other last.

“I’ve been reading this super cool book, man. It’s called My Side of the Mountain. It’s all about this kid from New York who decides civilization is bullshit and that he’s gonna go live in the wilderness. Everyone doubts him and thinks he’s gonna come back home after a night or two but he sticks it out a whole year!”

“But why though? Like, I like camping and all, but I wouldn’t wanna do it full time. I like my bed too much!”

“Uh, because it’s cool? Because eventually society will collapse and there will be an apocalypse and Sam Gribley will totally survive when everybody else dies because he knows how to live off the land? I don’t know buddyroll, I don’t see why you wouldn’t wanna do it!”

“Well, I always did say you were a bit odd in the head.” Link says, ducking Rhett’s exasperated shove.

They’d just about exhausted all the nooks and crannies of the little cabin except for the corner with the sagging ceiling. The small bedroom had only a broken picture frame, but the kitchen cupboards had yielded a dead rat and an expired can of beans.

“I dare you to eat some.”

“No way! Besides, how are we supposed to open it?”

“You make a good point.”

Eventually Rhett’s eyes turned to the corner with the sagging ceiling. There was an unopened cabinet over there, and it was calling his name.

“Bo, I don’t know, maybe we should go. I don’t think that’s safe.”

“Don’t be such a coward! Where’s your sense of adventure?”

Rhett managed one step towards the cabinet before there was an ominous creak and then a CRACK as a beam broke and a huge section of the ceiling caved in over their heads, snow and splinters raining down around them. Rhett immediately grabbed for Link, wrapping his arms around the smaller boy.

“Link?!? Link are you okay?” Rhett asked frantically, patting down every accessible inch of Link that he could reach as if he’d be able to feel anything through the approximately six layers of clothes Link was wearing.

Link’s voice was shaken, but he replied, “Yeah, yeah Bo I’m fine, just…startled, y’know. How about you, are you okay? Did you get hit with anything? You were covering me, you shouldn’t of done that man, You shoulda covered your own head, that’s what they taught us in school!” His hands were also smoothing over Rhett’s back and shoulders, but with less purpose than Rhett’s touches had.

Rhett waved off Link’s scolding. “I’m fine, I gotta thick skull. It’s my job to look out for you, you’re younger after all.”

“By seven months.”

Rhett ignored him.

They looked around the small space the debris has formed around them. There was no way for them to get out; although they could see light high up above them and there seemed to be a decent amount of air flow, considering how the wind bit through their jackets. There were little piles of broken boards and splinters and chunks of ceiling plaster cluttered around them, one of the walls of the cabin still standing smooth and whole at Rhett’s back. There was also a lot of snow, which must have been what finally caused the old building to cave in. All that weight dumping down on an already unstable structure.

“I freaking TOLD you man! I told you it wasn’t safe but you just had to keep going, didn’t you? Always gotta be the cool guy, Always gotta go that little bit harder. Now what’re we gonna do?!? We’re freaking trapped! We’re gonna freeze to death out here!” Link waved his hands around, shouting at Rhett.

“Hey, hey, hey. Calm down, Bo. It’s alright. If Sam Gribley can survive a whole year and more out in the wilderness by himself, the two of us together can survive a couple of hours until someone realizes we’re gone and comes looking for us. When we don’t come back by dark like usual they’ll send out a search team, it shouldn’t take long after that.”

Link settled down on the floor facing Rhett and rested his chin on his knees. “…What did Sam do? Like how did he survive the snow and stuff?”

“Hmmm, well, we already got the first step down. We’ve got shelter!” Rhett gestured around them at their little cubby. “It’s not the most secure or weatherproof, if we were gonna be here long-term we might wanna plug up the cracks with moss and make sure the roof is stable, maybe set up a chimney in that hole up there.” he pointed at the small opening where slanting golden light was filtering into their prison. “And then we’d have have to collect plants and trap animals and make clothes out of deerskin and stuff. But like I said, we aren’t gonna be here long enough for that.”

He hoped, anyway.

“Don’t we gotta build a fire, or something? Isn’t that part of winter survival? Shelter and heat? We’ve got plenty of wood, I know you got that lighter in your pocket. It’s not broken, is it?” Link asks anxiously, unfolding his legs and grabbing small pieces of board and piling them up haphazardly.

“Okay, wait, wait, wait, buddyroll. My lighter is fine, but dude you don’t know the first thing about making a fire. First of all you gotta have either a whole bunch of room so you don’t burn yourself or your shelter down or you gotta have it contained in like a fireplace or something, and we’ve got neither of those things. Second of all, You can’t just dump the stuff in all willy-nilly. Sam tried to do that in the book, and he ended up cold and hungry his first night even though he tried for hours. And third of all, this wood is all wet man. How’re’ya gonna start a damn fire with wet wood, brother? Can’t do it. Just smokes.”

“I don’t care dude, I’m cold. Can we at least try? Please?” Link wrapped his arms around himself, shivering.

Rhett sighed but set about arranging the smaller splinters of the drier wood into a neat little pyramid, wishing he had a flint and steel like Sam’s instead of the lighter. He’d have to get them sometime soon, after they got rescued. Maybe he could find them at the hardware store?

As Rhett predicted, the wood didn’t do much other than smoke, making them cough and cover their faces. Rhett used his hat to wave the smoke up towards the hole at the top and away from them until they could finally breathe again.

“So much for that.” Link muttered.

Rhett could see that he was still shivering, despite the physical activity. He also heard a tell-tale sniffle. Link tried to play it off as if it was just the cold, wiping at his nose and looking around casually, but Rhett knew better.

Link was scared.

“Come over here, Bo.”

“What?”

Rhett stretched his legs out in the small space, gesturing to the space in between them to indicate that Link should sit there. “We can huddle for warmth, man. I saw it on the TV. Body heat is key.”

Link hesitated but eventually decided that keeping warm was more important than avoiding any awkwardness that cuddling with his best friend might generate. They zipped their jackets together, Link leaning back against Rhett’s chest and Rhett’s arms around his middle inside their coats to create a cocoon of warmth.

“You know, in the book, Sam Gribley finds this hawk, or well, actually he steals it from its nest, and he trains it to be his hunting bird.”

“Really? You can do that? That’s cool. Did he name it anything?”

“Yeah, it’s called Frightful. He learned how to train it from a book in the library. There’s a nice lady there called Miss. Turner, and she’s one of the only people who actually believes him when he says he’s gonna live in the wilderness and doesn’t treat him like he’s some stupid kid. He reads lots of books at her library to learn how to live right.”

“Well at least he’s got one ally. It’s gotta be hard, not having anyone believe you like that.”

Rhett went on to tell him about the other characters that Sam meets, like Bill and Bando and Mr. Jacket. He told Link about Sam building his house in the old hemlock tree, making his deerskin clothes from the stolen deer, and Sam’s animal friends.

By the time Rhett got to the part of the story where Sam meets Matt Spell, the sunlight coming from the hole above them had long since gone, the pink light of sunset having faded into the dark grey of a cloudy evening. Rhett had just begun to worry about the steadily dropping temperature when he heard a voice a ways away, shouting their names.

“We’re in here! We’re trapped! We need help!” Link shot to his feet and pounded on the walls of their prison, temporarily forgetting he was zipped to Rhett and falling back over when he reached the limit of their cloth confinement. Rhett let out a quiet “Oof” as he caught his clumsy friend and helped to untangle the coats.

Once they were free, Rhett put his hands to his mouth and yelled back, much louder than Link, “Cole? Is that you? We’re in the cabin, man! It collapsed on us!”

“Hold up, I’m coming, don’t move!”

They could hear Cole getting closer, and soon enough the light from Cole’s headlamp was shining into their cubby where Cole had shifted the boards apart.

“What are you two idiots doing in here? We’ve been looking for you for hours, mom’s worried sick.”

“Well we didn’t do it on purpose, shithead. The cabin collapsed on us! We coulda died!”

“Be glad you didn’t, momma woulda raised you from the grave just to put you back in one. She still might kill you both, honestly, for frightening her like this. Don’t even get me started on Sue, she’s hysterical. Come on, let’s get you guys home and out of the cold.”

They climbed out of the ruins of Mcgregor’s cabin and tromped off after Cole, who complained the whole way home about everyone worrying about them and how he’d had to leave the nice warm house to come and look for their sorry asses, but it was clear that he had been just as worried about them. Rhett was touched by his concern, even if the complaining did get a little annoying after a while.

When they got back to Rhett’s house, their moms were indeed a little hysterical, and it took over an hour of apologies, explanations, scolding, and fussing before they were released from their mothers’ tender clutches. By that point, they had both changed into pajamas (Link’s pant legs dragging on the floor, since he’d had to borrow some from Rhett), wrapped in blankets, and stashed on the couch with mugs of hot cocoa.

For awhile they just sat watching the TV and drinking their hot cocoa, enjoying the silence now that the adults had satisfied their coddling instincts and retreated to other parts of the house. Eventually though the program couldn’t keep their attention and Link turned to Rhett.

“Rhett?”

“Yeah?”

“Could you tell me more about that story, My Mountain or whatever it was?”

Rhett grinned at his friend and an overwhelming glow of fondness filled his chest. Taking a sip of his cocoa, he picked up where he’d left off, continuing the story, weaving the tale as best he could for his curious friend. They talked late into the night, forgetting all about the cold outside.

#mythical secret santa 2017 #type: fic #rating: g #submission #gift swap

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the-tormented-writer · 7 years ago

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Get Down With The Sickness

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader (past) Bucky Barnes x Reader (mentioned & current relationship)

Words: 3,214

Warnings: language? ANGST

A/N- posting from mobile, hopefully there are no spelling errors, enjoy.

____________________________________

You pushed your way through the broken down building, listening to wind whistle through the cracks throughout the building while particles of debris crunch beneath your boots. You can see your breath as you continue through the bones of the house.

After weeks of trying to track Steve down you finally located him in an abandon building. You never would have guessed that Captain America would be able to disappear as well as Barnes had so long ago but you were wrong. If he had not slipped up, being spotted at a gas station, you would have not caught up to him for another month or two. It was more than just the feeling of left behind, it’s the ache you got from just trying to catch up to him.

You believed you all had been doing well in Wakanda. Yes, it was far from what you had once called home, missing the familiar sounds of Bruce starting the coffee maker in the morning. Or Tony, shushing himself when he carefully removes shot glasses from the cubbards (receiving a side glance from Bruce.) Even Vision phasing through the side corner of the kitchen giving them both miniature heart attacks. The ones that Steve had rescued from the oceanic prison- Sam, Clint, Scott and Wanda, attempted to piece their lives back together. Clint went back to his farm and Scott could not bring himself to stay away from his daughter- even though he would be arrested on sight- that was a chance he was willing to take. Currently Sam had begun training with T'Challa and Wanda still was getting back to being herself after being in isolation. Shortly after Bucky was put in a Cryogenic sleeping pod for the time being while T'Challas best brainstormed for ways to remove the triggers in his head. Little did anyone know that this had been the last straw for Steve. Now night clung to the windows and the walls, leaving a heavy chill in its ascent. You climb the rickety staircase to the closed off room at the end of the darkened hall. Inhaling quietly you brace yourself for the worst on the other side of the door. What happened if he was injured or if he had found out and it was just a decoy? You refused to accept this could possibly be another dead end. Grasping the doorknob firmly and shoving it with the side of your shoulder, it gives way with a loud CREEK. "Steve, what- what have you been doing to yourself?" You question him, your voice almost a whisper when it passes your lips. You pause leaning on the paint peeling doorframe. You sigh when he fails to respond. Removing your eyes from the boarded up window to your right, you follow the moonlight cascading down onto Steves form curled up on a stained mattress laid upon the dirtied floor. "Come on Steve " you walk over towards him, exhaling heavily while listening to your boots echo off the splintered floor boards. It hurt your heart to see him like this- fragile and damaged. Kneeling down you struggle to make him face you, carefully removing a gold flask from his fingers and turning him over onto his side. For a moment you become worried until you see his chest slightly dip releasing a shallow breath. "Captain?" You speak soothingly looking over his physique. His civilian clothes are disheveled and reek of his dire surroundings.

"How many times am I gonna have to tell you to stop callin' me that?" He slurs, coughing a few times to clear his throat. His eyes are watery and a deep shade of crimson when he looks over at you. He props himself up onto his elbows rolling his eyes when he realizes who it is. You look away quickly knowing he would hate for you to have seen him broken spirited when he sobered up, "Sorry hun, guess you can't teach an old dog new tricks." You reply with a grunt taking a seat beside him. You wear a small smile that fails to reach your eyes and Steve briefly wonders if you are disappointed in him. After all, he had accepted the responsibility of captain to begin with. Had he really read through the fine print of what all that entailed before jumping at the chance to lead the others?

You sit beside him for awhile watching him stare at the ceiling for what feels like ages. "I thought I was dead to you?" He speaks with a gravely voice and a smack of his lips. “Congratulations on your resurrection." You sass smirking as you watch a speck of dust float across your vision "Why are you here y/n?" "You know why." "I'm not going back. I can't. And unless you're here to tell me anything about Bucky-" "I'm sorry. Did you just tell me that 'You can't?' Don't you think you atleast owe it to the others?" Steve rubs his tearless eyes straightening up, leaning his back against the wall and wrapping his arms around his legs, "I couldn't save them all. God knows I tried. Shit. I'm such a fucking disappointment aren't I?" He meets your eyes again you turn away afraid you would come undone as well. "Steve-"

"I'm sorry for just falling apart on you like this. I'm sure this wasn't what you had in mind when you decided to join us, did you? You had pictured being a hero I bet, not a fugitive running daily for your freedom. I've ruined everyone's lives- Barton's, Wilson's,- yours..." "This isn't your-" "Ofcourse it is!" He rasps reaching out towards the flask you had moved to the side of him. He could feel his throat tighten when he speaks the truth of the situation to you. You were right, he had caused far worse things to happen in the last year. He takes a big swig of the contents, some of it dribbles into his unkempt beard. You cannot hide the face of disgust you make. This was far from the man you would have willingly put your life on the line for, did that person even exist anymore? "Is that what I think it is?" You ask, yanking it from his hand. You watched his eyes dodge you, resisting the urge to scream, "Hey! no, give that back."

“You can’t do this to yourself, Steve. You’re a force of good! You’re supposed to be a hero!” "...then you can say that this is my well earned vacation." You stood up sniffing the lip of the container, tilting your head back you take a gulp. The beverage is like fire touching your tongue. You begin to cough and sputter causing Steve to let out a deep chuckle. He turns away with tears in his eyes and rubs some sweat from his brow. Your eyes widen as you spit the contents across the floor in front of you. "I knew it!" You wipe your mouth on your sleeve. "So this is what you've been doing? Sulking, getting drunk and having a... a pity party?!" "Y/n you don't understand- I need that."

"No, you don't!" Your voice breaks and Steve notices it yet dismisses it just as quick. He refused to give you any satisfaction that you were getting to him. "Yes I do! This is the ONLY way I can get away from the -" "What? Guilt? You left me Rogers!" You stopped yourself calming your tone, yelling would not solve anything at this point. "You left all of us." "Psssh! You're fine. Sam and the king, they're more than capable of helping you adjust to this new life. I mean look at Sam- honorable, responsible and good natured, he should be your captain... not me." "How can you say that? This is not the Steve Rogers I know. The Steve I know wouldn't take this lying down."

"You're so sure of yourself aren't you? You know me so much better than anyone, right?" "Steve, I know what you're trying to do, you're pushing me away and it's not going to work. Simply because I won't let you, I'm stubborn too, remember?" "Really.. " he trailed off composing himself. He neared you, his shadow upon on the wall engulfing yours as he approached. Even looking as rough as he does he manages to intimidate you more than you let on. Tightening your fists you stand your ground, jutting your face up to meet his.

"Care to test that theory?" He speaks low, the voice rumbling from his chest. His eyes never waver from yours when he swallows and clenches his jaw. Your expression faltered looking into his eyes, feeling unsure where to go from here. Was he challenging you? If so what was your next move? Geez this had never happened before. "If you think for a second that I'm going to just let you disappear on me and the others- who are counting on you by the way- you're sadly mistaken." You say with a slow but firm shake of your head. "Then you just must be as stupid and nieve as I thought you were y/n." You scoff running your tongue across your teeth sucking in a breath, "You don't really mean that." "Yes I do"

"No. Like I said before, you're just trying to push me away. You're pushing us all away little by little. Was this your plan all along? Dump us off and go at it- alone? But you're here, in some flea infested, rotted, run down, ramshackle house drunk off your super soldier ass!" "Well you'd know better than most about me disappointing others right? After all, you have first hand experience in that department, doll." "Everything's not always about you!" You yell and it surprises the both of you. You had been telling yourself when you found him that you would be calm and understanding and all you had managed to do was bicker with him. "I know you don't want to admit that together we were awful..." Watching you fight with yourself Steve knew he had finally hit a nerve. "Is that want you told yourself? How long was it before you started looking at Bucky more than a friend hmm? A week, a month?"

"I had hoped maybe separately and very, very far apart we could be adequate. Then everyone became split and people started choosing sides..." You let out a shaky breath making yourself focus on the real problem at hand. "Look. Look at me Rogers, I'm not doing this with you! We tried obviously it didn't work. Now, we have more pressing matters that need your - OUR attention." “I tried to separate love from pain, loss from hope, but you were always stuck between them” He scoffs sniffing. He shakes his head and rests his hands on his hips, "Can I ask you something? How long it was before his name was the one you were screaming?" You felt your eyes well up with unseen tears, before your hand connected with his jaw. You grown muttering under your breath, pretty sure you had broken a finger or two with that move. "You really put the ass in asgardian liquor Rogers." You retort gripping your quickly swelling hand. Steve snickers turning away from you. He bends down snatching the flask from the splintered floor. Grasping his hands together like prayer, he holds on to the flask for dear life. He glanced briefly over to you folding your arms, assuring you it had been a mistake coming here. " Yes, I know you're hurting and yes I was a bitch or a whore if you prefer-"

"You said it not me." He exclaims looking back towards you. "But I'm here now with our past behind us, wanting my captain to come back and bring us hope once more. Not for me, you owe me nothing- but you do owe those who have believed in you from the beginning. You’re never supposed to admit it when you gave up. We’re all just walking around pretending- praying that we still have a chance." "Oh please stop with the bullshit y/n!" "It's true. You think you can just drown your demons out by drinking? Who are you, Stark now? Gonna call him up since now you're both on the same level of self loathing and become best buddies? you disgust me!" You say lunging for the bottle in his hand. His eyes widen when he understands what you are going for. Without an ounce of hesitation, he moves quickly bringing a hand swiftly to your chest pushing you towards the far wall. You wear a mutual expression of shock when your back quickly comes in contact with the cold, rough concrete. Steve shuts his eyes when you let out a scream of pain, crumbling onto the floor. He turns back to you stopping just steps from you. Steve looks over his calloused hands then to your slowly struggling form. He had never meant to hurt you, raising a hand to a lady was not his way. He had officially become a monster.

"Y/n! What have I done?" His voice cracks, wanting to touch you yet afraid he would cause more harm than good. Lifting your head up, blood and spit cling to your gums. That had been completely unexpected and you did not know what to anticipate next. A line had been crossed and suddenly everything had changed. Letting out a cough you disturbed the layer of dust on the floor, causing it to form a small billowing cloud. Steve bends over to help you extending his shaking arms when you flinch away, chest heaving while your mind tries to wrap around the incident that just took place. "Don't touch me." You hiss waving him away. "Y/n I'm sorry, I -"

No. No you're not. You clearly have a differed agenda that includes your self destruction. I shouldn't have come, I see that now and understand what I must do." Carefully lifting yourself upward you limp, supporting yourself along the wall. "It’s not my fault you’re messed up. It’s not my fault you got hurt so many times. It’s only my fault for being so happy when you wanted me to help you. I wanted to be a cure trust me when I say I truly did. But I never wanted to be your punching bag." "God damnit y/n! Please, l- I didn't mean it!" He runs a pale hand through his long hair, "you know I never meant to hit you ever. Let me help you. I told you it was a mistake to come out here. Look at what's happened!" His cheeks were flush with embarrassment. "Yes, you've made it clear you want nothing to do with us. I know now and I know what I must do." You swallow as you observe Steves movement towards you. "You stay out here right? Not wanting to be found?" You speak making Steve weary of you. You carefully remove the bug from his leather jacket balled up on the floor, dropping it below your boot and crushing the plastic piece underneath. "There. You are officially off the grid." You give him a smile that chills him to the core. His brow is knitted together watching you, "So what does that mean?" "You were right and I was wrong." You turn half way facing him, "This will be the last time I ever make this mistake again." Your voice made the hair on Steves neck stand up and for the life of him he did not know why. He had broken you, your spirit and anything that made you believe in him.

"Ok. Well good. Make sure you don't." He lowly speaks behind you reopening the flask in his pale bruised fingers while you make your way back down the lonely hall. ----------- one month later---- This had to be the worst plan you ever had. Squatting outside a hidden in plain sight Hydra facility, you took a deep breath hyping yourself to go in. Your nerves where making you overly excited. The thrill of your current plan or die trying was all you felt you had left after that visit with Steve. You had not wanted to go in guns a blazing but you felt there would not be any other choice. This was a hard group not only to infiltrate but also to communicate with. Not to mention you had already shot and killed twelve of their men so far, you foresaw a lot of sweet talk in your future.

Once you made it in you let yourself get taken and relieved of your weapons. Hands behind your head and a sack over your face you did your best to map out the area in your mind while you were lead through the labyrinth of halls and rooms. Coming to an abrupt halt you were pushed into a room and seated. Shortly after the dark sack was removed from your head. You squinted around the room as the bright lights shone above you. Sitting patiently, drumming your fingers on the hollowed table- for what felt like an eternity, the gray steel door opened revealing a tall slender man wearing a black tactile suit. He clears his throat dropping a brown folder before you then releasing you from your binds. He moves to sit across from you in the white wall room. "So agent y/n Y/l/n, my men tell me you have the locations of the disbanded avengers?"

Yes, I do." You respond mechanically lacking any emotion in your voice. It took only a handful of minutes for you to destroy all SHIELD had been trying to protect. “Perhaps some of us weren’t cut out to be good people. We’re the sleaze the world needs." You trail off reassuring yourself your are making the right choice by doing this, that it was the only foreseeable way. "Do you mind if I ask why the sudden change of heart?" His eyes flick from the file to you, resting his head in his hands. "As we recall you also where one of Captain Rogers righteous right hand soldiers. What makes us want to trust you and not slit that soft little neck of yours?" "You could say I have found that the grass is greener on this side of the fence." you smile wearing a toothy grin as you open the file placed before you, containing paperwork and photos of every Avenger you had once called an ally- family. After some time the man hums to himself closing the folder. "Well looks like we are In for a mutual partnership for the time being, don't you agree?"

If Steve refused to fight for the others and for himself, you would bring the fight to him. He would no longer be able to avoid the responsibility he had been given. Then, with his most dearest to him threatened, you believed he would have no choice but to return to conquer the threat. You knew what you are, You are a sacrifice that must be made. You try not to feel guilty about what happens next. With an exhale, you shake your head making the final decision. "Hail Hydra."

#marvel fanfiction #dark steve rogers #steve rogers oneshot #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #reader insert #after civil war

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viraljournalist · 5 years ago

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Colby Covington's divisiveness hits home ahead of UFC title fight

New Post has been published on https://viraljournalist.com/colby-covingtons-divisiveness-hits-home-ahead-of-ufc-title-fight/

Colby Covington's divisiveness hits home ahead of UFC title fight

COCONUT CREEK, Fla. — Colby Covington is shadow boxing, warming up for a private striking workout. He’s with a coach, inside a room tucked next to an acai bowls cafe. Rock music is playing on Covington’s smartphone, and he’s wearing a shirt that reads “Stomp my flag, I’ll stomp your ass.”

It’s 1:06 p.m. on a Monday in mid-November at the famed American Top Team training center. A few feet away, on the other side of a closed door, the other pro fighters at the gym — including ESPN’s No. 2 bantamweight, Marlon Moraes, No. 5 flyweight Jussier Formiga and PFL standout Kayla Harrison — are wrapping up a group class. Covington can’t see his teammates when they gather in the center of the mat or hear them when they all yell “ATT!” in unison to end the session. That’s partly by design, as some fighters prefer private sessions before a big fight. But for Covington, the isolation is deeper.

“I’m doing stuff behind closed doors now,” Covington says during lunch, a month before his first unified title shot. “I don’t want people to see my training. That’s a big concern of mine. I don’t want people to see the game plan I’m working and how much I’ve improved and the skills I’m developing every single day. You’ll see that on fight night when I step into the Octagon.”

The UFC is closing 2019 with a loaded card in Las Vegas this weekend. UFC 245 features three title fights, including Kamaru Usman vs. Colby Covington (welterweight), Max Holloway vs. Alexander Volkanovski (featherweight) and Amanda Nunes vs. Germaine de Randamie (women’s bantamweight).

UFC 245: Usman vs. Covington • Saturday, Las Vegas • Early prelims: ESPN+, 6:15 p.m. ET • Prelims: ESPN2, 8 p.m. ET • Main card: ESPN+ PPV, 10 p.m. ET

Top UFC 245 content

• Covington’s divisiveness hits home • Urijah Faber at 40 • Why Usman’s grappling is key

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Aside from being one of the best fighters in the world, Covington is known for being one of the UFC’s greatest villains. He is skilled at incendiary — and sometimes crude — trash talk.

And it’s not just with opponents. Over the last few months, Covington’s divisiveness has shaken the walls of American Top Team. He has publicly feuded with several teammates, including former friend — and perhaps the hottest act in the UFC — Jorge Masvidal. The Covington-Masvidal beef has defined the growing tension within the gym and put a spotlight on ATT that will grow more intense should the teammates eventually become opponents.

In the meantime, Covington will challenge Kamaru Usman for the UFC welterweight title in the main event of UFC 245 on Saturday in Las Vegas. In his corner will be coaches from a gym — the only gym Covington has known as a pro — where at least one of its stars wants him to lose.

“I don’t feel comfortable,” Covington says. “I feel like I always have to look over my shoulder. I have to watch my back. I don’t know if people are gonna come up and try to attack me. I’ve had people yelling in the gym at me, creating scenes and stuff. It’s not a good environment for me there.”

But some argue it’s an environment Covington helped create.

“Colby doesn’t need to watch his back at our gym,” says Dan Lambert, owner of American Top Team and Covington’s agent. “He might need to watch his back just about anywhere else he goes as a result of what’s happened. … There’s pros and cons to being who Colby is and that just might be one of the things he needs to deal with moving forward.

“I think Colby thrives on that chaos,” Lambert continues. “[‘Chaos’] is his nickname and appropriately so. I think it pushes him to go harder at those people and at the gym.”

It was Oct. 28, 2017, when Colby Covington reinvented himself in Sao Paulo, Brazil. He said he became a showman for business reasons, but not everyone saw it that way. Josh Hedges/Zuffa LLC/Zuffa LLC via Getty Images

How Covington went from afterthought to one of the sport’s most polarizing figures dates back to June 17, 2017, when he beat Dong Hyun Kim. UFC matchmaker Sean Shelby told Lambert after that fight that the UFC had no interest in re-signing Covington when his contract was up after his next fight.

Lambert says he told Covington he shouldn’t alter his fighting style, but “there’s some other s— you can change.”

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After decisioning former title challenger Demian Maia on Oct. 28, 2017, in Sao Paulo, Brazil, Covington called Brazil a “dump” and its fans “filthy animals” while standing in the Octagon.

Covington’s new identity had come to life. And it was drawing attention. Covington’s ATT teammate Amanda Nunes lashed out at him on social media. Another Brazilian fighter, former UFC heavyweight champion Fabricio Werdum, threw a boomerang at Covington a few weeks later during a fight week in Australia.

The strategy worked. The UFC re-signed Covington, and his next fight was for the interim welterweight title, which he won by beating Rafael dos Anjos at UFC 225 on June 9, 2018.

If not for the sudden turn, Covington says he would have been out of a job, “just another guy nobody cared about.” Against Maia, he says he made $30,000. Against dos Anjos in his next fight, Covington says he took home $200,000.

“I’m trying to be a high-paid fighter,” Covington says. “I’m not trying to fight for 20 grand the rest of my career, getting my brains knocked in, lose brain cells and not have something to show for it at the end of my career. You see a lot of these guys at the end of their career, they’re brain dead, they have no money, they’re doing GoFundMe accounts. It’s sad, dude. After I’m done, I want to be set, man. I don’t want to have to work another job.”

After seeing early returns, Covington accelerated his transformation.

Things may already have started to go south in their relationship by the time Jorge Masvidal worked Colby Covington’s corner for his fight against Rafael dos Anjos on June 9, 2018. Mike Roach/Zuffa LLC/Getty Images

Mixed martial arts is an individual sport, but in gyms and training centers all over the world, athletes and coaches work as teams to help fighters prepare and evolve. Many fighters say they wouldn’t be where they are without their teammates, sparring partners and coaches.

Covington upset many with his comments in Brazil, but turning against Masvidal fractured the gym.

“You never talk bad about your teammates, doesn’t matter if you like them or not,” former UFC strawweight champion and ATT veteran Joanna Jedrzejczyk said.

It’s one thing to be controversial, but to some fighters at American Top Team, Covington sold his soul for headlines.

Not long ago, Covington and Masvidal were more than teammates. They were friends and roommates.

Covington says the beef started after he beat Maia, because Masvidal lost to Maia earlier that year. Covington says Masvidal became jealous.

Masvidal says the falling-out started when Covington stiffed one of their mutual coaches, Paulino Hernandez, on a payment for working the dos Anjos fight.

But hard feelings were kept private. Masvidal worked Covington’s corner when he faced dos Anjos and celebrated his teammate’s win. Covington would later say that although Masvidal worked the corner, he didn’t help Covington make weight and, in fact, abandoned him.

But when Masvidal knocked out Ben Askren in a UFC-record five seconds on July 6, Covington posted on Instagram about always having each other’s backs.

Both would later say the relationship had soured by then. The fracture started becoming more public in late July, when rumors circulated that Masvidal could fight for Usman’s crown ahead of Covington, who was quoted on July 30 saying it would be crazy if Masvidal landed a title shot despite being 2-2 in his last four fights.

Masvidal and Covington had words in the audience at UFC 241 on Aug. 17 and security stepped in at the Honda Center in Anaheim, California.

The feud boiled over two days later on Ariel Helwani’s MMA Show, after Covington joked that Masvidal was trying to improve his seating by getting closer to Covington in the first row. Masvidal said Covington told UFC president Dana White that Masvidal was going to assault him — and that White then warned Masvidal about getting into a confrontation.

Masvidal grew agitated during his interview with Helwani and referred to “some stuff” between Covington and one of the coaches, likely the payment issue. Masvidal said Covington knew what gym he’s at and when he’s there, and he said he could be there the following day.

Within the next few weeks, Masvidal and Covington had a verbal altercation at American Top Team.

“I said, ‘If you don’t pay him, I’m going to F you up,'” Masvidal said on The Dan Le Batard Show. “My coach got in between it.”

Lambert says he sat down for a meeting with Masvidal after that altercation, and Masvidal agreed not to come to blows with Covington inside the gym out of respect for the team. Masvidal has called ATT home for 15 years.

“They’re gonna act like professionals,” Lambert says. “They’re gonna coexist. They’re gonna do what the coaches tell them to do. Or they’re not gonna be there. … I don’t think you’ll see problems inside the gym, because they respect it.”

Masvidal told ESPN he wasn’t interested in talking more about a subject that could further divide American Top Team. Both Covington and Masvidal said they would never leave the gym, even if they sign to fight each other.

“We’re better than that,” Masvidal says of his teammates. “Maybe some shady s— has gone down. But we’re not slimeballs. I’m ATT until the day I die.”

Covington and Masvidal are both welterweights, ranked No. 2 and 3, respectively, by ESPN. The possibility of them fighting is real, and it’s something Covington wants.

“You never talk bad about your teammates, doesn’t matter if you like them or not.”

Joanna Jedrzejczyk

“It’s a big opportunity businesswise for both of us — and for the gym,” Covington says. “The type of hype around that fight? Honestly, that would probably be one of the most sought-after pay-per-views in the history of the UFC.”

If Masvidal and Covington do end up booked to fight each other, Lambert says protocols would be put in place at the gym to ensure the best possible environment for both.

“It’s not my favorite situation to be in, but I guess at the end of the day it’s probably a good problem to have,” Lambert says. “It means the gym is doing something right.

“We’ll deal with it. We’ll keep them separated. They’ll train at different times. They’ll train in different parts of the gym. They’ll train with different training partners and different coaches. They’ll both get the best possible training, they’ll come in ready and it’ll go one way or the other.”

If the byproduct of a successful gym is occasionally having two fighters face each other, the downside of a beef like the one between Covington and Masvidal is the atmosphere it would create.

“It’s just gonna be like Team Colby and Team Masvidal,” Harrison said. “It’s gonna literally divide the gym and divide the coaches. Nobody wants that.”

But a potential matchup is further away than some think, according to Masvidal’s manager, Abe Kawa. Masvidal has mentioned Conor McGregor or Nick Diaz as potential next opponents because they could produce bigger paydays.

“As of right now, he’s not in our plans,” Kawa says of Covington. “We’re so far ahead of that. Usman and Colby are fighting for the right to possibly face Jorge. Jorge is the ticket — he’s the A-side.”

It’s not unusual for a fighter to work out alone before a big fight, but for Covington, the isolation could have a deeper meaning. Marc Raimondi

On Saturday night, Covington could be considered the A-side for the main event of a card that features three championship fights. That’s a long way from worrying about getting released by the UFC.

And while ATT teammates Masvidal, Jedrzejczyk and Dustin Poirier dislike Covington — Jedrzejczyk said she hopes Usman will “beat his ass” — there are those who understand his motivation, and even respect it.

“He’s accomplished more in a short period of time than a lot of guys that have been in the industry forever,” says Thiago Alves, a UFC veteran out of Brazil, a team leader and fighter-coach. “You can’t hate the recipe. You don’t have to like it, but you have to respect it. I respect the dude and I like him. … I’m ATT, man. Forever. And he’s a great kid. Never disrespected me. Yeah, say some s— to sell it. But even with everyone here, he’s always been super respectful.”

Nunes was one of the first to criticize Covington on social media after his “filthy animals” comment about Brazilians. Now they share a head coach, Conan Silveira, and Nunes says she harbors no ill will toward Covington.

Silveira, also a Brazilian, says he has not taken any of Covington’s remarks personally and understands what Covington’s goals are by talking trash. He says hard feelings within an MMA gym are not rare, but they shouldn’t be a problem as long as everyone stays professional about it.

“Do you get along with everyone in your family?” Silveira asked. “Colby at American Top Team is a completely different guy. He’s a part of the family. … Of course I’m gonna support him. It’s never that I’m gonna turn my back on him. I say that on behalf of me and them. We’re never gonna do that.”

Covington believes those who knew him before what pro wrestling fans would call a “heel turn” should see that he is just trying to maximize his income in a cold, dangerous sport.

“It shows me their true colors and it shows me who they really are inside,” Covington says. “They can’t understand I’m doing this because of business? They’ve seen me for the last eight years at the gym. And they know who I really am deep down inside. But when a camera turns on, when a mic is put in front of my mouth, it’s a different story, because I’m doing business at that point. And that’s how I look at it.”

Not everyone differentiates between the trash talk of a showman and real bad blood.

“All these words, they do have consequences,” Masvidal told Le Batard. Askren, a noted trash-talker himself, found out the hard way. After knocking out Askren, Masvidal added a couple extra shots and later called them “super necessary.”

Covington embraces the challenge.

“[There’s] a unique element to it where I do actually enjoy and thrive in people wanting to see me get knocked out, people wanting to see me lose and fail,” Covington says. “There’s something really nice that I like about it that makes me want to just prove them all wrong and shut them all up.”

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jaeminlore · 8 years ago

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Sakura Kiss // Cha Eunwoo

the prompt: could you possibly write a Greek Mythology/Demigod AU with Eunwoo of Astro? Where like you’ve been cursed to live as a nature spirit (like a naiad or a nymph or something) and the only way to break it and become human again is to have a demigod kiss you~ In comes Cha Eunwoo, child of Athena (or you can pick a different god if you’d like!) who’s on a quest, part one of which is to receive a kiss from a nature spirit, which will supposedly grant him the power necessary to face some monster (which is part 2 of his quest)~ so he meets you, and thinks ah, perfect opportunity, and you see him and think ah, perfect opportunity~ And the two of you basically spend the next three days trying to be as seductive and flirtatious with each other as possible TRYING to get the other one to just kiss them already so they can move on with their lives??? Romantic tension, mostly comedy and fluff please~!!

words: 2768

category: percy jackson au + fluff

author note: i tweaked it a lil bit i hope you don’t mind bc i like how this turned out. also yes the title is the title song from ouran high school host club kiss kiss fall in love my friends

- destinee

my lovely bby wow i love him so much

“Okay, so making Mom mad will resort in getting turned into a nymph. Noted,” you mumbled.

Being the daughter of Demeter was no fun. Why couldn’t you have been the daughter of Apollo? He seemed chill. All his children ever do is run around camp reciting haikus and shooting arrows at the Ares cabin.

It was rotting luck, the mother you had. All your siblings ever wanted to do was garden, or talk about gardening. Gardening was boring to you. Especially since you seemed to be the only child of Demeter without a green thumb.

And apparently, bringing it up to the Goddess of Agriculture that you didn’t like flowers, or anything to do with flowers, is a no-no.

So as a joke or a punishment (you weren’t sure), your mother turned you into a nymph. A tree person, basically. Except you were also a flower person, since you were a nymph of the Sakura tree. The only way you would turn back into a human would be to kiss a fellow demigod.

Now you were sure it was a joke, for the only thing you disliked more than gardening was boys. In fact, boys annoyed you so much you planned to join Artemis’ hunt as soon as you could.

Your mother just loved to humor you. So, to humor her back, you didn’t try. You stayed in whatever random sakura forest your mother put you in, rather content at the silence given to you.

If a demigod came, they came. If not, it was all the same.

Eunwoo sighed as he remembered the quest he was on. His two companions, Rocky from the Ares cabin and Moonbin from the Hephaestus cabin, walked beside him. There were currently in Japan, thanks to Apollo, who said the prettiest nymphs lived here. He even gave them a ride on his sun chariot.

“So how are you gonna get passed this one?” Rocky asked, testing the sorting of his bow out of boredom. “Nymphs don’t like demigods, do they?”

“I suppose that’s why it’s part of the quest,” Eunwoo said. “Mom said this quest was all about how well I could do on my own. I need to kiss a nymph to get the strength to defeat the monster. She’ll want me to use my wit, I just don’t know how yet.”

Moonbin frowned. “How do you kiss a tree spirit anyway? Do they have lips?”

“Of course they do,” Eunwoo replied. “You’ve seen nymphs at the camp, remember? They look the same as us except they’re green.”

“Which is weird,” Rocky supplied.

Eunwoo was just about to comment on how he wished he had brought two different companions, when he spotted a forest up ahead. “There’s the forest! I’m sure there’s a spirit nearby.”

“Let’s go then,” Moonbin gave him a little push and the three set off for the pink forest.

Eunwoo was alone within the hour.

Apparently, Rocky and Moonbin thought outright asking for a kiss from a nymph wasn’t a bad idea. They soon found out it was, however, when they were kicked out of the forest, leaving Eunwoo to his lonesome.

The handsome boy walked around aimlessly, desperate to find any nymph that wasn’t already mad at him. He needed to complete this quest and prove to his mother that he could be just as wise as she was.

“Oh!” Eunwoo was now caught up in his thoughts and a Sakura tree, one he hadn’t seen before. Pink petals fell as he hit the tree. They landed on him, creating a natural crown of petals on his head and a rather itchy tie for his neck. The tie was metaphorical, of course. The crown, however, was not.

He sneezed, the abundance of flowers causing his allergies to flare up. Unfortunately, he would have to keep going.

A voice suddenly cut through the silence. It sounded familiar, although the words frightened him, “Boys. Flowers. Mom would know to bring my two least favorite things together. That would really punish me.”

Eunwoo frowned and darted behind a tree. He was a boy, and he was literally wearing flowers on top of his head. Unlucky for him, you seemed to be the only nymph who hadn’t been hit on by his friends.

You would have to do. This would put his wisdom and quick thinking to the real test, since you seemed to hate boys even more than the average nymph.

So he moved out from behind the tree. “Hello.”

You were hungry. Not in the physical sense, since nymphs don’t really get hungry. Rather, in the mental sense, where all you could picture was a large pepperoni pizza and a bottle of cola waiting back at the camp. Would you ever return to civilization, where the pizza delivers?

Nymphs could eat some stuff, technically. Maybe a flower or something. Since you were on a strike against those wretched plants, that was out of the picture.

You kicked the stump of a nearby tree, only to groan in pain when pain reached your toes. “Boys,” you muttered. “Flowers. Mom would know to bring my two least favorite things together. That would really punish me.”

While you were grumbling to yourself, the rustling of leaves became your background music. You turned at the new noise, ready to yell at nature for once again annoying you.

“Hello.” It wasn’t nature. Well, he actually could’ve been nature, due to the tons of flower petals that crowned his head.

He was a pretty boy. He was Eunwoo from the Athena cabin. You weren’t sure just how handsome a person could be, but it frustrates you that his skin seemed to be clearer than yours. He was the perfect combination of beauty and brains. You wondered what he was doing in Japan, where your mother had dumped you.

However, you were reminded as you stared at him, he was a demigod. He could be your trip out of this forest. He could turn you human again.

The only problem was that you’d have to kiss him.

You had never had your first kiss. You had never even had a boyfriend. How does one go about getting a child of Athena to kiss them? They were known for being hard to trick, since they were usually smart and on top of things.

Maybe you would get lucky and a son of Hermes would walk by. They’re always cute. Maybe that Myungjun guy would come to Japan for some odd reason.

You could only stare at Eunwoo and his stupid, perfect face. There was no way you could ever get him to kiss you.

But you could try. So you sported the best smirk you could, “Hey, there.”

Okay, so she definitely isn’t happy to see me, Eunwoo thought as he saw the grimace on your emerald lips. At least it looked like a grimace.

What was he supposed to do now? He needed the strength the kids would give him.

Eunwoo didn’t even know where to start, especially since he found you cute. There was something familiar and lovely about you.

Honestly, were nymphs even supposed to be cute to humans? Tree spirits were green, with unruly auburn colored hair. Aphrodite would call the color combination a disaster, but Eunwoo thought it worked on you.

“Can I sit?” he began awkwardly. “It was a long journey.”

“Sure!” you replied. “There’s a log over here by the creek. Are you on a quest?”

“I am.” Eunwoo followed you to the log and you both sat. He discarded his sneakers and socks to join you in sticking your feet in the murky water.

“So you’re one of those campers from America?” You tried to pretend you didn’t know him.

“Yeah. I’ve got the camp beads to prove it, see?” He leaned closer to you, holding up the beaded necklace around his neck.

Perfect, he thought, watching you as you examined the beads. All you have to do is look up. Please look up.

As if you could hear his inner conversation, you glanced up.

Your hazel eyes widened to see that Eunwoo’s lips were quite literally right in front of you.

This is perfect. One kiss, Y/n. Just kiss him. Do it. Now before he moves away. Go!

You couldn’t, frozen in doubt. What if you weren’t a good kisser? Or what if it didn’t work for some reason. Wouldn’t that be awkward?

You cleared your throat and moved back. “Um, you’ve got Sakura petals in your hair.”

Eunwoo chuckled, “This is a peculiar forest. I didn’t know there were nymphs for every type of tree.”

“There are many different types of nymphs,” you reminded him. “You’re just in the Sakura section. A few miles down is the Maple section. Heads up, though, I wouldn’t go befriend those nymphs. They’re kind of rude.”

“Noted,” Eunwoo said.

You watched him. He looked distracted to you.

Could he see your blush? Of course he could, you told yourself, because your skin is now green. Which meant your blush would be a dark emerald.

It probably freaked him out.

Eunwoo bit his lip. Why is she blushing? Did it work? Did I almost seduce her? Did we almost kiss?

His lips pulled into a smile. Maybe this would be easier than he thought. The sun was going down, though, and Eunwoo still had a lot of tasks to do for his request. He also needed to go see Moonbin and Rocky and make sure they were okay.

“Hey, is it okay if I come back tomorrow?”

You smiled at him, and the emerald on your cheeks deepened. “Of course.”

You should’ve asked Eunwoo to bring you a pizza. That was all you could really think about. You missed human food.

You lay back on the log and sighed at the sky, “Can nymphs even digest pizza?”

“I don’t think so.” You turned your head to see Eunwoo walking towards you.

He sat on the grass beside your log-bed comfortably, his eyebrows furrowed cutely.

You turned your head to meet his gaze. The demigod had abnormal visuals. As you kept staring at him, you realized your mother must be watching the two of you.

She must be the reason flowers kept falling onto the boy, creating some kind of floral halo. It wasn’t autumn. There was no other way he would have a ton of petals all over his shoulders and head.

You gestured to the flowers on his shoulders. “Why are there always flower petals on you?”

“Oh,” Eunwoo blushed and looked down at his shoulders, smiling bashfully. “I keep running into trees.”

You let out a bark of laughter, “You’re joking!”

“No,” Eunwoo said sadly. “There are too many of them. And they sometimes mess with my allergies.”

He brushed the petals off of his shoulders and out of his hair.

“Is that why your eyes are sort of red?” You pointed at his eyes. “You should take some medicine for that.”

Eunwoo rubbed his eyes and sniffed, nodding. “Yeah, they’re irritated.”

“Don’t do that.” You turned onto your side and grabbed both his wrists, pulling them away from his face. “You’ll hurt yourself.”

Eunwoo blinked a few times and looked at you as you held his wrist. Then, he suddenly let out a small sneeze.

“Ew!” You let go of his wrists and backed away. “Warn a girl next time!”

“Sorry,” Eunwoo laughed.

“You should be,” you said. “I mean, how can I kiss you now?”

“What?” Eunwoo’s head snapped towards you.

“What?” You asked. “Nothing!”

“You said something but I sniffed when you said it,” Eunwoo explained.

“Oh.” You had never felt so thankful for allergies. “I just said that you should cover your mouth with your hand.”

“You were holding my wrists.” Eunwoo protested. “How could I?”

“You’re right,” you turned onto your back again and sighed. “Anyway, did you get your quest done?”

“Everything but two tasks,” he answered. “I don’t know if I have the courage to do one of them.”

He knew he didn’t have the courage to do it. And he want talking about defeating a monster.

For one thing, he had heard you properly when you said you wanted to kiss him. The whole sniffle thing was a complete trope, and the only reason you believed it was because you wanted to.

So now Eunwoo knew you wouldn’t be opposed to it, and yet he still couldn’t find the courage to do it.

He liked talking to you, though. You offered playful banter and helpful advice, and in return he listened to you rant about how much you wanted pizza.

So maybe he didn’t get to kiss you, but he did have a wonderful time with you.

The next day, you paced back and forth in the forest, occasionally brushing a flower petal off of your shoulder.

“Mom, please don’t make me kiss him.”

You wondered if she was even listening to you. Probably not.

You scoffed. She was probably laughing up in Olympus at the past two days, when you had managed to awkwardly avoid perfect kissing opportunities.

Perhaps just to spite you, more Sakura petals fell down, onto your head.

“What is this, an anime?” you shouted at the sky, earnestly hoping your mother was enjoying your angry shouts.

“Is now not a good time?”

You turned around, still angry, to see Eunwoo standing there. You gestured to the flower petal on his head. “Did you run into a tree again?”

Eunwoo opened his mouth to protest, but changed his mind and only nodded. “I thought I got all the petals off, though.”

You laughed and walked up to him. “You did, but there’s a petal on top of your head. Here.” You got on your tiptoes and braced one hand on his shoulder. With the other, you picked the flower off of his head. “There. All done.”

Eunwoo’s eyes were really beautiful up close. In fact, you found that the more you stared into them, the easier it would be to just lean in and kiss him.

So you did. On the cheek, but a kiss nonetheless.

It was chaste and quick. You were sure your cheeks were the darkest shade of green when you turned away from him, hands still on his shoulders.

“What was that?” Eunwoo asked, looking lost for words.

“A kiss?” you squeaked.

Flowers began to fall around the two of you, and you knew it was your mother’s way of telling you that a cheek kiss wasn’t a real kiss.

Luckily, you didn’t have to embarrass yourself any further, because Eunwoo reached out and grabbed your waist. He pulled you against him gently. “Can I kiss you properly?”

“I guess.” Your heart was beating quickly as he leaned in and placed his lips on top of yours.

Still timid, having not kissed anyone before, you let him lead you. Perhaps Athena children were just good strategists, because Eunwoo somehow made the kids feel perfect. It was sweet and gentle, which was fitting for being surrounded by so many pretty flowers.

When it ended, your eyes opened before Eunwoo’s did. His eventually fluttered open, and then widened to see that your skin was back to its original color.

He stepped back. “You were just a nymph, were you not?”

You smiled bashfully. “My mother cursed me because I said I hated gardening.”

A look of recognition came across Eunwoo’s face. “Wait, aren’t you Y/n? From the Demeter cabin? I can’t believe I didn’t notice sooner. Your eyes are the same.”

“You know my eyes?”

Now it was Eunwoo’s turn to blush. “I mean, yeah. I kind of like you.”

“I kind of like you too,” you said happily. “Although, you should know that the curse only came undone because I kissed a demigod.”

Eunwoo breathed a sigh of relief. “Well that makes me feel better, since I had to kiss a nymph as part of my quest.”

You laughed. “I guess neither of us are that good at seducing, are we?”

“No,” Eunwoo agreed. “However, of you want, I can take you out for pizza and I’ll try to be as seductive as possible.”

“Yes to the pizza, no to the seducing.”

When he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, you explained, “I like you for you, sakura allergies and all, not for any fake seducing.”

Eunwoo smiled softly. Then, “Wait, does that mean we can get out of this forest? Because I don’t think I can breathe.”

You laughed and followed him out of the forest, your hand in his.

~the end~

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marvelous-heroimagines · 8 years ago

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What Was It This Time?

Requested by: Anonymous (Here are the specifics)

Pairing: Reader x Peter Parker Word Count: 1.8K Warnings: Swearing, fluff

A/N: Prompts #10: “Don’t flatter yourself. I’m always this awkward.” and #22: “I can’t explain it right now, but I need you to trust me on this.” from this prompt list.

As usual, your eyes slide to the person sitting to the right, one row ahead of you. His head was ducked and you can see him doodling in his notebook, you wonder what kind of things run through such a brilliant mind.

“Mr. Parker, are you paying attention?” your English teacher, Mr. Campbell, calls from the front of the room. Peter’s head snaps up and he drops his pen,

“Y-Yes,” he stutters, clearly lying. You can’t see his face, but you’d bet that his cheeks were flushing red, knowing that he was lying.

Mr. Campbell crosses his arms over his chest, and cocks an eyebrow at Peter, “Well, either you’re lying, or you’re purposefully defying my request,”

“Uh, can you repeat what you said?” Peter asks. You watch with amusement as he seems to sink further in his chair with every passing second, seemingly uncomfortable being the centre of attention.

Mr. Campbell sighs, “I asked you to move next to Miss Y/L/N... You’re partners on the next project,”

Your head snaps forward, staring at your teacher, unsure you’d heard him correctly. Clearly Peter wasn’t the only one that hadn’t been listening. Your eyes dart back to Peter to find him staring at you, his mouth agape. As you feel blush starting to flood your cheeks, you quickly bow your head, hoping that Peter hadn’t noticed. Your heart beat picks up as Peter’s footsteps approach you.

“Hey,” Peter coos, dumping his notebook, pens and bag on the desk next to you,

“Hi,” you force out, feeling embarrassed when your voice is soft and timid. That wasn’t how you wanted to make your first impression on the guy you’d had a crush on since Freshmen year,

“Okay, so,” Peter whispers, leaning closer to you; making your heart beat pick up more, “I’m not gonna lie to you... I wasn’t listening,” he chuckles, “What exactly is the project?”

“Uhh,” you curse your brain for freaking out and not being suave and charming, “I wasn’t listening either,” you admit.

Peter bursts out in quiet laughter. At the sound of his laugh, you relax a little, taking it as a good sign.

“I guess one of us should find out,” he flashes you a wide smile, “Preferably before we meet up after school,”

“What?” you blurt out, your eyebrows shooting up,

“To start on the project?” he asks tentatively,

“Oh, yeah” you nervously laugh, “I’ll ask Mary Jane before school finishes,”

“Great,” he flashes you one last smile before leaning away from you and slumps back in his chair. Your eyes linger as you watch him pick up his pen and continue doodling. Trying to be subtle, you tilt your head, just enough to get a good look at what Peter was drawing.

You’re surprised when you see he’s been doodling the Avengers. Not that it was odd, every single student at school had been obsessed with the superheroes since the Battle of New York. You brush it off, and decide that it was a smart idea to start paying attention to the lesson.

While you nervously fiddle your fingers, your head darts back and forth from the tables in the library and the door. Peter was already 20 minutes late, and you were really starting to worry that he had stood you up. Letting out a disappointed sigh, you shuffle over to the closest table.

None of the students look up to acknowledge you, so you quickly take a seat and pull out your books.

“Holy shit!” the student across from you whispers to his friends. His friends excitedly nod towards the student you thinks name is Miles, before their eyes return to the laptop screen that was positioned in front of Miles.

“Woah!” Miles’ friend shouts. You shoot him a glare. You considering moving to another table, but worry that if you move too far into the library, Peter won’t see you when he finally arrive... if he finally arrives.

“Sorry,” Miles whispers to you, looking around his laptop, “We’re just watching footage of Spiderman... He’s chasing bank robbers through the city,”

“Yeah, it’s live and he’s so badass,” Miles’ friend adds.

You give them an acknowledging nod before returning your attention to your books. But it only takes 5 minutes for Miles and his friends to exclaim in excitement again.

“He got ‘em!” Miles excitedly tells you, “Now he’s slinging off into the sunset,”

“Thanks for the play by play,” you sarcastically reply and give him a forced smile. Miles and his friends finally quiet down and you’re given an opportunity to concentrate. But you don’t even finish reading the first page of Mary Jane’s notes before someone suddenly grabs your shoulder.

You let out a squeal, and snap your head around to see Peter standing behind you.

“Didn’t mean to scare you, sorry,” he grins at you,

“You’re late,” you roll your eyes at him before turning back to your work,

“I know, sorry,” he mumbles and you notice that his chest is heaving with every breath, and his cheeks are flushed,

“You run here or something?” you cock an eyebrow at him,

“What? No,” he blurts out, looking frightened, “Oh... Yeah,” he rubs the back of his neck nervously, “Coach, um, made me run laps to make up for my bad grade in P.E.,”

You slowly nod, not really believing what Peter was saying. You knew for a fact that Coach was at swim trials on a Monday afternoon. But you don’t call Peter out on it. He was hiding something, but it was none of your business. Peter makes a move to sit in the empty seat next to you.

“Oh, I was thinking we could move to a table upstairs?” you query, “Miles and his friends are a little loud,” you whisper. Peter steals a look at Miles, who had now moved on to loudly chatting about how cool Spiderman was, before giving you a smile and a nod. You gather up your things and follow Peter towards the stairs that led to the quieter level of the library.

You don’t even make it 3 stairs before your foot collides with one and you stumble. Peter lunges forward and stops you from smashing into the rest of the staircase. Your creeks flood with blush as you try to recover. Peter is biting back a laugh when you shoot him a glare.

“Don’t flatter yourself. I’m always this awkward,” you say with a smirk.

Once the two of you find a free spot, you pull out your books again.

“Alright, so I was able to coax Mary Jane into lending me her notes on the project we have to do,” you point at her neatly handwritten notes, “And I think we should start with the research, I’ve found some good stuff in the textbook,”

“Cool, cool,” Peter nods, his eyes scanning the borrowed notes. You wait for him to pull out his books, and when he doesn’t, a silence becomes obvious to the both of you,

“So... Your books?” you drawl out,

“Oh, yeah,” Peter nervously says. You watch as he grabs his bag and rips it open. As he pulls out his books, you notice a flash of red and blue material that had been stuffed into his bag, “What’s with the frown?” Peter asks in a concerned tone.

You pull your attention away from his bag and make sure to wipe the crease between your brows away, “Nothing. Let’s get started,”

You and Peter had been given 6 weeks to prepare your project, which was worth more than half of the years mark. To begin with, you’d been excited to be project partners with your crush, but now it was only a regret. Peter had ditched you, or rocked up late to your study sessions. It was really starting to piss you off that you had to carry his cute ass through this project.

But it wasn’t the kind of slacking that everyone else did, where he knew you’d complete the project if he didn’t show up. It was different. Every time he ditched you, he seemed distressed and in a hurry. Or every time he arrived late, he was out of breath and frazzled. And coincidentally, whenever he had to leave early, it was less than 5 minutes before Spiderman was seen slinging through the city, fighting crime.

Maybe it wasn’t a coincidence.

“Hey, Y/N, wait up!” you hear Peter call from behind you as you stomp through the snow. You stop and spin around, watching Peter jog over to you, “I know I’m late, I’m sorry,”

You let out an annoyed sigh and cross your arms over your chest, “What was it this time?”

Peter stares at you, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he tries to think, “I can’t explain it right now, but I need you to trust me on this,” you cock an eyebrow and look at him quizzically, “It was important,” he adds,

“You’re still wearing the mask,” you say, testing out your theory. Peter gasps and immediately reaches for his face, “I knew it!” you exclaim,

“What? How? Wait what’re you thinking?” he stammers, looking frightened,

“You’re Spiderman,” you confidently say, not able to keep the smirk off your face,

“No...” Peter drawls out,

“Every time you bail on our study dates, Spiderman appears to fight crime,” you shrug, making it seem like it wasn’t hard to put together,

“That doesn’t... I’m not Spiderman,” Peter nervously laughs,

“I literally overheard you tell Ned that you stole Captain America’s shield,” you cock an eyebrow at him.

Peter lets out a sigh, “Fine, you’re right,”

You grin at him, proud of yourself for being correct, “Could’ve just told me, I would’ve been more cool with you leaving me to do the entire project by myself if I knew you were saving the city,”

Peter smirks at you, “Did you call our study, a date?”

“What? Uh...” now you were the one feeling uncomfortable with the confrontation,

“You know,” Peter takes a few steps towards you, “I would’ve made sure to make it to our studying I knew they were dates,”

Your breathing hitches in your throat, unable to breathe without taking in Peter’s scent, “Shut up,” you mumble, embarrassed, “You still owe me for doing our project by myself,”

“I’ll make it up to you,” Peter steps closer still, “Coffee?”

“Uh, sounds good,” you all but whisper, your heart pounding in your chest. Peter snaps his head around, looking like he was hearing something. He takes a glance at you, his face telling you that Spiderman was needed, “Go,” you shake your head,

“We’ll have dinner,” he says. You’re taken by surprise when he plants a small kiss on your cheek, you don’t even register it until he’s run off to go fight crime.

Final Part

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