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ah-ga-seven · 4 years ago

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Till The End of Summer - Chapter 14 (The Finale)

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Pairing: Choi Yeonjun x Reader

In a Nutshell: College!AU, Rich Kids, Friends to Lovers, Fuckboy athlete Yeonjun, Overprotective Best friend Soobin, contains all of TXT and other Idol cameos, Omnipresent perspective.

Synopsis: You and Yeonjun are caught up in a cat and mouse game because of unspoken feelings and endless pining for each others’ attention. With the summer break approaching and lots of college parties, will you finally get a chance to explore your feelings for each other; even though the world and Yeonjun’s reputation makes things complicated?

Word count: 12,3K

Idol Cameos: NCT Johnny, ITZY Ryujin, ATEEZ Wooyoung, Stray Kids Hyunjin, Enhyphen Sunghoon, Heesung and Jay.

Genre: Fluff, SMUT, angst if you squint.

Warnings: explicit mature content, I put a bolded warning sign at the start and end of it so you can skip through if you want.

Month 1.

Yeonjun went back home to save the reputation of Choi Enterprises by dealing with Lita’s attempt to overthrow him and his mother.

Apparently, she did a lot more than the things she was locked up for initially.

Lita and her husband bribed members of the board, making promises they obviously couldn’t keep. “When we have the company, the world is yours” but those days never came. and the board members that were bribed were fired effective immediately.

Each and every one of them got disposed of, with their assets included like they were last weeks’ trash. And if that wasn’t enough, Lita’s unjustified psychosis stemmed from the fact that she used to sleep with Yeonjun’s father. Lita felt like she was entitled to the Choi’s fortunes because according to her; the only woman Daniel Choi ever loved, was her.

The revelation had Yeonjun sick to his stomach as he sat next to his mother in court. Lita looked at him with pleading eyes, claiming to really love him as her own son before the judge announced her 15-year prison sentence for fraud, spying, embezzlement, and attempted murder.

Somehow Yeonjun felt nothing as he looked at her. He really didn’t. If anything, he was glad to close this chapter of his life for good, and look ahead of the road to recovering his soul.

You, on the other hand, were completely overwhelmed with your new surroundings. You threw yourself into your work to forget about your heartache and didn’t dare to talk to Yeonjun in case it’d open up your wounds again. It would cause for you to lose focus, and you simply couldn’t afford that distraction right now.

Month 2

The first month passed without any contact between the two of you, but that changed when you wished him a happy birthday. His heart thumped in his chest on his way to his 6th therapy session as he looked at your message.

He was even more surprised to see that you sent him a cute card with a Polaroid picture of the two of you; all happy and smiley in the park.

It was reassuring to him that you were still thinking of him, and that you hadn’t completely forgotten about him or moved on so easily, because lord knows he hadn’t.

When you asked him about Lita’s trial a few days after his birthday, you two started to slowly talk again from time to time. You’d check up on each other and made small talk, but it was nothing like it used to be.

There was no depth, and the core of your conversations always had to do with how both of your studies were going, if you were taking care of yourselves or if you’ve had dinner already.

You both figured it was for the better this way, otherwise your break up would have been for nothing if you didn’t use this time apart from each other to heal, especially since you promised to be better individually so you could be even better together.

If that was still what both of you wanted upon your return of course.

He missed you so much, and he was finding it incredibly hard not to check your socials at least once a day, especially when he realized how male-dominated your studies were at Brown.

Your Instagram feed and stories indicated that you were having the time of your life when you could. You were happy despite the crazy hours you spent in a lab with your research team. A team that quickly became your new group of friends at the University.

There were 2 other guys and one other girl in your team. The girl’s name was Giselle, you seemed to be the closest to her out of all of them. One of the guys was named Chanhee who was quite obviously gay, therefore not a threat. But the second guy, Hwang Hyunjin… let's just say that Yeonjun wasn't a fan.

Month 3

Your almost daily texts and calls with your friends back home started to shift to communication on a weekly basis.

It was hard to keep up with your friends back home while having to entertain a new friend group here, all while you spent hours upon hours in the lab, working on a possible treatment for neurological disorders.

You knew that whatever you were getting yourself into with this exchange was going to be hard, but you didn’t imagine it to be this hard and frankly, you were feeling incredibly homesick by now.

You missed Soobin, the boys, Mia…Yeonjun. And one time when you came home at 10 PM after a long day that started at 8 AM; you broke down on the phone when Soobin called to check in on you.

He was so shocked at your tears that he was ready to jump on a plane, but you stopped him from doing so. Knowing that you needed to push through and confide in the friends you made, whom you’ve started to hang out with a lot more, especially with Hyunjin.

He reminded you a lot of Soobin, the way he was gentle yet in for dumb shit matched well with your own personality, and hanging out with him felt liberating. He introduced you to his friends and spent time with you and your lab partner and roommate Giselle whenever he could, which made your time at Brown a lot more bearable than you had anticipated.

Yeonjun was slowly starting to enjoy life again. He caught up with his studies, kept going to therapy, had regular calls with his mother, and spent time with his friends whenever he could. He started to pick up his neglected hobby of dancing again, finding comfort in the art form with Wooyoung and his crew.

Month 4

Yeonjun’s mother sold Choi Enterprises. She was completely done with the company as it wasn’t hers to begin with. The stock prices had risen for the first time since Daniel’s death paired with the whole Lita ordeal, so she took the chance to get rid of her past with a simple transaction.

She consulted Yeonjun about selling the company and the house he grew up in, for which he agreed, glad that they could finally close that dark chapter of their lives while getting a fresh start with new surroundings.

With all of this newly acquired money, she opened a new headquarters of her own luxury fashion brand, closer to Yeonjun; only an hour away to be exact.

She was determined to be a better mother and get to know her son, and the only way to do so was by actually trying. He was happier now that the burden of having to take over Choi Enterprises one day fell off of his shoulders.

For the first time in a long time, he held the reigns to his own future again and his mother assured him that she’d support whatever he wanted to do in life both mentally and financially.

From there on out things started to look up for them.

They went on café dates every Sunday, and sometimes he’d visit her for an entire weekend where they would bond by cooking or shopping together.

During one visit, Yeonjun helped her pick some pieces for Fashion week, which made her pleasantly surprised by Yeonjun’s out of the box and daring passion for fashion. She suggested he’d take a minor in fashion design next to his regular Business studies and after giving it a good thought, he did, enjoying it a little more than he thought he would.

Month 5

You were doing better too. The hard part of your research was over with, and you had a well-deserved break which you spent with Giselle, Chanhee, and Hyunjin. You decided on having a mini-vacation and go sightseeing, rent an Airbnb somewhere in the state, and just chill.

Everything was fine until the last night of your trip, where you got shitfaced drunk and ended up sleeping with Hyunjin.

You were single, so there was no reason to feel guilty, especially since the last time you even talked to Yeonjun was over a month ago, yet you still did.

Of course, you had to talk to Mia about it, who only told you to remember that when you’d return in a month; you’d probably never see Hyunjin again, and that was enough for you to start distancing yourself from him.

The guy obviously had feelings for you, and you felt bad for friend-zoning him after being intimate with him, but the fact of the matter was that you just didn’t feel the same way about him. None of it would matter in a few weeks anyway, because you’d be heading back home, to your friends...and to Yeonjun.

Month 6

Brown had offered you to stay and finish your studies at their facilities but you kindly declined. The experience was great, but you couldn’t put yourself through one more year of this type of curriculum, and you desperately wanted to see your friends' faces again by going back to the place you’ve called home for the past three years.

To your new-found friends’ disappointment, you were getting ready to leave as the weeks passed, packing your things little by little and meeting up with all of the people you met one last time before parting ways for good.

It felt bittersweet though. Not only did you learn a lot about neuroscience, but you learned a lot about yourself as well. You grew as a person, matured, and blossomed by being more independent. Not having Soobin or your other friends to fall back on really pushed you to become more self-dependent, which was one of the perks of being away from them for so long.

You respected yourself and put yourself first and promised that that’d be a piece of knowledge that you’d be taking back home too.

Now.

Yeonjun couldn’t believe half a year had passed already. But what he really couldn’t believe was that he’d be seeing you again tonight.

He stood in your apartment with the guys and Mia, organizing your things and cleaning up the place for your surprise welcome home party. Being in there felt weird, almost foreign to be exact.

It’d been half a year since he stepped foot in here, and even though you were gone for so long, the place still smelled like you. If it wasn’t for the empty shelves, missing bedsheets, and plastic covers over your furniture; it’d almost seem like you never really left.

He opened your bedroom door to see Mia struggling to make your bed and chuckled lightly at the sight. He walked over to her, grabbing the other ends of the sheets to help her out.

Mia gave him a faint smile and stopped her movements for a second to look at Yeonjun. “Are you excited?” She asks with a big smile. Lord knows she was, her best friend was finally coming back but Yeonjun didn’t really know how to answer Mia’s question.

“More nervous than excited. We checked up on each other from time to time but it’s not like we really talked or anything.”

Mia pouted at Yeonjun’s insecure facial expression. One she hasn’t seen from him that often. Especially lately. Mia and Yeonjun have gotten a lot closer in the past six months, which was a nice change for the both of them.

“It’ll be fine. Don’t worry. You’re not the same Yeonjun you were six months ago. And that’s a good thing. She’ll appreciate the change.”

“Gee, thanks.” Yeonjun snickers as he throws a pillow at Mia’s head. It hit her straight in the face, messing up her hair which made both of them erupt in loud laughter.

“Asshole,” Mia says straightening out her hair.

“What’s going on here?” Soobin asks with a big smile on his face as he enters your room.

Soobin hasn’t been able to wipe that damn grin off of his face all day. He was so excited for you to come back and honestly the mood with the boys and with Mia has been amazing lately.

“Yeonjun is back to his old ways,” Mia argues as she tries to throw the pillow back at him, but Yeonjun swiftly caught it, giggling to himself as he fixes it before putting it back on your bed, where it belongs.

“Well, quit messing around and hurry the fuck up, I’m picking her up in an hour.” Soobin says clapping his hands together to try and give orders, but neither Yeonjun nor Mia were phased by Soobin’s attempt to assert dominance. Both of them rolled their eyes before getting back to the task of making your bed.

It was adorable how stressed yet giddy Soobin was to see you again. Everything had to be perfect before you arrived so he could relax and make sure you’ll be able to relax after your flight too.

He ran around your apartment like a stressed mother; making sure the boys weren’t messing around too much so that everything planned out smoothly before the guests arrived.

Soobin waited for you patiently…at the wrong exit.

You immediately recognized his tall form when you were skimming the crowd, wondering why he wasn’t there yet, but when you saw his back facing the wrong arrival hall; you knew enough.

It’s so Soobin of him to face the wrong way. You smile to yourself as it gave you the perfect opportunity to scare him.

You chuckle as you walk towards him while pulling your suitcase with you. He was concentrated on the people exiting the gates, hoping to see you and growing more and more restless as you didn’t show up, but little did he know, you were right behind him.

“Who are we waiting for?” You ask in a serious tone as you stood beside him with your arms crossed while following his gaze onto the crowd.

Soobin’s head snapped into your direction so fast you swore you heard a bone crack.

His eyes widened before he smacked his bunny-like lips in confusion, looking you up and down before a huge smile crept upon his face that you could only mimic.

“YOU’RE HERE!” Soobin shouts in shock, relief, and joy at the same time while pulling you in for a tight hug. He inhaled your scent while twirling you around, and all you could do was giggle as he smothered you in his hold.

God, you missed him, and judging from the way he wasn’t letting go of you, you could tell he missed you too.

“Ugh, I missed you so much. How was your flight? And look at you! Did you change up your hair? You look good, happy, healthy. Ugh.”

You couldn’t even respond to anything he was saying as he wrapped you into his arms again. Normally you’d fight him for being so clingy, but this time you let him have his way for a few seconds…until it got hard to breathe.

“Soobin, I can’t breathe.” You protest softly as you tap his chest to let go which made him laugh in response, holding you at an arms-length. “Sorry y/n. I just…we’re never separating for that long ever again,” he says with a serious yet playful look on his face.

“Agreed.” you beam up at him as you link arms, walking towards the exit.

“Did you have a good flight?” he asks as he pets your hair, not believing that you were standing next to him right now.

“Mmh, there was some turbulence so I couldn’t really rest. I can’t wait till I’m home again so I can sleep,” you mumble before you let out a yawn as you drag your feet on the tiled floor of the airport.

Soobin gulped. He didn’t know how you’d feel about the hoard of people in your apartment right now, all ready to celebrate your return when all you really wanted was to get some rest after your long travels.

He felt guilty for a second but also knew that you’d probably forget all about your tiredness when you’ll see all of your friends again.

“Uhm, the car isn’t that far. Give me that,” he says as he takes your suitcase from your hold.

“Everyone quiet down! They’re coming up right now!” Taehyun announces while he cut the music.

Everyone frantically found a spot to hide. Some giggled as it got dark, some held on to each other cause they couldn’t see shit and some were nervous wrecks like Yeonjun.

You weren’t suspecting anything as you dragged your feet to your apartment. Soobin was acting weirder and weirder; fumbling with his keys, dropping shit, and constantly checking his phone, but you were too dense and tired to notice.

You struggle with your lock and let out a yawn. Soobin stood closely behind you, taking a deep breath as the door swung open.

Before you could even close the door behind you or find the light switch, all of the lights turned on in an instant, followed by a loud ‘SURPISE’ yelled out by at least two dozen people who were occupying your living space.

You flinch, your eyes nearly popping out of your skull and stumble backward, just so your back could hit Soobin’s tall form.

He laughed hysterically clapping his hands together like a seal, followed by everyone in the room.

“Oh my god.” Is the only thing that you were able to get out as you covered your face at the overwhelming sensation.

You didn’t even realize you had this many friends? I mean you knew all of them of course, but you didn’t comprehend the fact that they were all here to welcome you back.

The music turned back on and Mia was the first one to launch herself into your arms which had you immediately defrosting in her hold.

‘BITCH!!!” she yelped. “I MISSED YOU SO MUCH.”

She clung onto you and twirled you around making the adrenaline and confusion in your body shift to pure happiness at seeing their faces again.

You can’t believe they did this, and suddenly you don’t feel tired anymore.

“Y/N!” Beomgyu squealed your name as he hugged you, followed by Taehyun and Hueningkai who all patiently waited until it was their turn to hug you.

You were so caught up in shock and bombarded with love, that you didn't have time to scan the room for other familiar faces. Instead, you just let them come to you one by one as you stood glued to the floor, smiling, hugging and chatting away with all of the people that seemed to have missed you so dearly.

Yeonjun stood in the corner of your living room, watching the whole ordeal. A smile crept onto his face at how happy and healthy you looked. It’s almost as if he saw you for the first time again. Making him realize that love at first sight really was a thing…even in this form.

He took a sip of his drink, still watching you carefully until someone nudged his shoulder.

“Shouldn’t you go say hi to your girl?” The taller and older guy leaned against the wall next to Yeonjun after nudging him, making him look up at him.

“Hyung, I don’t even know what to say to her. She’s so happy right now, I don’t wanna ruin it.”

Johnny furrowed his eyebrows, cocking his head to the side. “You don’t think she’ll be happy to see you?”

“I don’t know anything right now.” Yeonjun sighed, watching you join Hueningkai and Beomgyu for a selfie with a big smile on your face. “When is the last time you two spoke?” Johnny asked, taking another sip of his drink.

“Like two months ago.”

“Damn…”

“I know.”

and just as the picture was taken, you spotted him across the room.

Your eyes locked, making Yeonjun freeze in place. “Shit,” he gulps, downing his drink in one go to calm his nerves which made Johnny laugh at his antics.

“Relaaaax. Did you see her eyes light up just now? I think she missed you too,” he assures him, throwing an arm around his shoulder for comfort.

This seems odd? Doesn’t it? Yeonjun and Johnny being all friendly with each other.

During Yeonjun’s never-ending therapy sessions, the school’s counselor wanted to connect Yeonjun with someone with a similar background. You should’ve seen both of their faces when they met during a group session, but after realizing they had such corresponding backgrounds, you know; the neglected rich kid kind, they haven’t stopped talking to each other and oddly became very close friends.

It was nice for Yeonjun to have an older brother figure in his life since he’s the oldest in his own friend group, and it was even nicer for Johnny to find out that Yeonjun wasn’t such a big dick after all. Oh, and the part of having someone who gets his struggle was great too, even in the form of Choi Yeonjun.

You couldn’t believe your eyes. You didn’t expect him to be here for some reason and the last thing you expected was seeing him with Johnny’s arm around his shoulder in a non-threatening way.

Mia chuckled as she followed your gaze. “Yeah…so, they started hanging out a few months ago.”

“How even?”

“I don’t know maybe they started to bond over being your rejects,” Taehyun says making Mia and Beomgyu cackle with him, but you couldn’t quite see the humor in it. You had only returned to your friends for 5 whole minutes and they were already being annoying.

Soobin noticed your slight annoyance and chuckled, rubbing your back in comfort as he was the only one to notice how nervous you really were to talk to him again after all this time. “Go talk to him, he’s just as nervous. Trust me.” Soobin says into your ear so only you could hear, and you give him a small nod in response. Smiling at the encouragement you so desperately needed.

You’re a bad bitch. You got this.

You look at him once more as he talked to Johnny.

For some reason, his whole aura changed from the last time you saw him. His features matured a bit, he lost weight and he completely embraced having a mullet. Ok…hot.

He was breathtaking. Even after all this time of being apart, he made you feel the exact same way and all it took to remind you of that feeling was one look from him.

He decided to man up and make his way through the crowd to greet you, but you beat him to it as your legs automatically walked over to where he was standing.

Johnny sensed the sudden electricity in the air as you approached and decided to go in for the hug first to give Yeonjun some time to collect himself. “Y/n!” Johnny coed as he enveloped you into a big bear hug. “It’s so good to see you again. How are you? How was your exchange?”

You’re snapped out of your trance, but you still feel Yeonjun’s eyes on you as you’re trapped in Johnny’s embrace. You collect yourself as you let go of him, trying to avoid Yeonjun’s gaze for now but it was almost impossible because of how close he was.

“I’m good, it was good. A lot of sleepless nights but it was totally worth it.” You give him the quickest answer possible; you weren’t quite sure where to start the conversation with Yeonjun but the longer the two of you ignored each other, the weirder the tension between you two was getting.

He took a deep breath, giving you a warm smile before averting his attention to Johnny. He not so subtly told him to leave with his eyes, which made Johnny suavely exit the conversation by announcing that he needed a refill.

“Hey…” you start.

Yeonjun’s eyes glistened as he looked at you with adoration. “Hey.”

You looked good. Your skin had a healthy glow, and your new haircut was working wonders for your features. He was entranced by your beauty for a second before realizing his stare might be creeping you out, though you didn’t even notice, cause you were staring at him too.

You were completely caught up in your own perception of time. Everything seemed to slow down now that you were looking into others eyes again after all this time and just as you were about to open your mouth to speak, some kid you didn’t know accidentally bumped into you roughly.

The sudden impact made you lose balance as you jolted forward, straight into Yeonjun’s arms. Luckily, he swiftly caught and stabilized you.

He looked at you in shock, making sure you were okay as he grabbed your shoulders before turning his attention to the random kid who somehow got an invite to be at your welcome home party, in your house, without you even knowing who he is.

He quickly apologized, but you feared for what was about to happen. The Yeonjun you left 6 months ago was a dick and a hothead, he’d make the kid regret running into you like that but to your surprise Yeonjun straightened out the freshman’s clothes and gave him a small side smile.

“Be careful kid, we just got her back,” he says in neutral yet friendly tone.

That’s it? No threatening glare? No sarcasm?

He seemed to notice your dumbfounded facial expression and chuckled. “Anger management classes,” he explains with playfulness evident in his voice.

“You’re kidding?” you scoff in amusement.

“Nope. I’ve turned into a complete softie, just for you.”

You teasingly shove his shoulder and laugh loudly. The sound made Yeonjun’s heart flutter as he watched your face contort into pure joy and cuteness. He felt the sudden urge to squish your cheeks together and litter your face with kisses but he withheld himself from doing so, and reciprocated your giggles with the sound of his own laugh as he raked his hand through his long locks.

This small moment of flirty teasing made the both of you realize just how much you had missed each other as you were quick to jump back in your old ways.

You both should’ve known that worrying about any awkwardness between you two was stupid. After all, you were friends before you even started dating; and luckily that dynamic returned quickly because he was just as big of a casual flirter as you were.

Suddenly it felt like you were starting all over again with him, it felt like the first time you tried to connect with him on that damn picnic that started the timeline of your relationship.

Somehow the universe granted you the opportunity to hit the reset button and do things right this time, and you couldn’t be happier now that you realize how stupid it was to worry about the inseverable connection you two seemed to have to each other.

Even after all these months and all those miles of distance, Yeonjun still felt like home.

He gave you a shy smile, realizing you were staring at him with hearts in your eyes while you expectantly gazed into his dark orbs.

His eyes weren’t hollow anymore, for the first time in ages his happiness felt genuine and you couldn’t wait for him to tell you all about it.

“How about we…ditch your party for a bit and go take a walk,” Yeonjun suggests, giving you a hopeful yet mischievous look as he held out his hand for you.

You boldly lace your fingers through his and lead him out of your apartment without a second thought, ignoring stares from literally everyone.

Oh my god, history really was repeating itself. Your mind flashes back to the walk you took with him that night at Johnny’s party; you lead him out of Johnny’s kitchen the exact same way right after the fight you had with an overprotective Soobin about trying to date Yeonjun.

You got Yeonjun a little flustered, which is a first, but he was happy with your directness. He couldn’t wait to be alone with you in a more private setting and if that meant leaving your own party, then so be it.

Fresh air hits your lungs as the chilly spring night welcomes you outside. Your apartment was way too crowded and way too hot which made you sigh contently as the cold wind created goosebumps on your skin.

Yeonjun looked at you and stopped in his tracks while diverting his gaze at your still intertwined fingers.

You look back at him, confused as to why he stopped walking, but before you could ask questions; he pulled you towards him, trapping you into his strong arms. One of his hands made its way to the nape of your neck to slowly pat your hair as he leaned his chin on the top of your head.

You just let it happen, wrapping your arms around his torso while burying your face in the crook of his neck. The familiar scent of soap mixed with his expensive Chanel Bleu cologne hit your nostrils and the butterflies in your tummy start to flutter again after being on rest for six months.

Whole. That’s how you feel in the moment.

“You have no idea how much I missed you.” You mumble into the hug, not wanting to look up at him out of fear that he might not have felt the same, but by the way he was holding you right now, you should know better. The insecurity of not being good enough still had its ways of fucking with your mind, even though you had no reason to be.

Yeonjun opened his eyes at your confession, not being able to hide how happy he was to hear that his feelings were mutual. He hid his grin by burying his face into your hair again as he giggled before pulling back slightly to see your face. You were trying incredibly hard to hide the heat that had risen to your cheeks but it was to no avail as Yeonjun mumbled something about how cute you were right now.

He was so worried you didn’t feel the same. He was convinced you forgot all about him at Brown. Your Instagram stories were filled with the countless parties you went to, the new people you met accompanied with the fact that your posts were littered with suggestive comments from guys he could only assume you met over there.

Yeonjun’s biggest fear relating to your return was that you utilized those six months away from him to move on, but as selfish as it sounds; he was so incredibly glad that you hadn’t.

“Look at me.” He tried to cup your face but you didn’t let him, giggling into his chest as you protested.

The two of you must look absolutely pathetic to bystanders right now. You were completely stuck in your own world, acting like high school kids who were brand new to love, but somehow that’s exactly what you were.

He chuckled lowly, as you tightened the hold you had on his waist. “Ah, whyyy…Look at me, come on.”

You do as you’re told, and when you look up you are greeted by the most beautiful smile you’ve seen in your life, making your breath hitch in your throat at how boyish yet manly he looked just now.

“Ok, I’m looking. Now what?” You challenge as you take a hold of his wrists as he cupped your face.

He didn’t know if he’d move too fast if he kissed your lips right now, so he decided against it while giving you a sweet kiss on your forehead instead.

“I just wanted to see your pretty face up close again. Instagram doesn’t do you justice, angel.”

“Oh, shut up.” You giggle, rolling your eyes as you push yourself out of his hold. You hate to admit it, but the little pet name made your heart skip a beat. You pretend to run from him, but he snatched you back in no time by tugging at your elbow with laughs and giggles. You give in and link arms with him as you resumed your walk through your neighborhood and look up at him to check if he was really here with you right now.

This whole thing just felt too good to be true. Here you thought he’d moved on from your relationship, but the confirmation that he hadn’t was nice, to say the least.

He looked down as he felt your eyes on him and smiles at you before looking at the path ahead of him.

“What?” he asks with an amused tone, but you just shake your head in response.

“You seem different.”

“How different?”

“Like you aren’t carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders anymore type of different.”

He nodded understandingly and stopped in his tracks to look into your eyes again. His hands traveled down to yours, lacing your fingers together once more before he sighed, tucking a stray piece of your hair behind your ear for you.

You gave him an expecting look, squeezing the hand that was still intertwined with yours to assure him of the fact that you’re listening, which earned you a small smile.

“It’s cause I’m not. While you were changing the lives of others with your research, I was changing my own. At first, I thought the whole therapy thing was a hoax. I didn’t understand why talking to some stranger would fix me, but it helped me come to terms with a lot. I learned about acceptance and moving forward. And I learned that in order to be able to love someone in a healthy manner, I’d have to love myself first. You know…on a deeper level than just my handsome face” he jokes trying to lift some weight off of his words.

You roll your eyes, but secretly love his arrogance, making a low chuckle escape from your lips before you return to seriousness again.

“I’m so proud of you.” you say, and you mean it. You’re amazed at how clear his mind seemed to be. It’d usually take Yeonjun a good minute to collect his thoughts before he could talk about how he felt with you, but right now it came out so naturally, it was almost odd.

He gave you a weak side smile, making eye contact once again. “I’m nowhere near the finish line though. I can’t promise you that I’ll never fuck up again because I’m learning as I go, but what I can promise you, is that my heart and my feelings for you are unchanged. I haven’t stopped thinking of you, not once. The thought of being with you again was my driving force and I need you to know that.”

He caressed your cheek while you let his words sink in and suddenly you feel tears prickle your eyes.

You were at a loss for words, completely lovestruck by his incredibly sweet and wise confession.

You hold onto his wrist for leverage, your breathing turned shaky and uneven as a tear escaped your eyes.

Here you thought he had completely moved on from your relationship. But god, you were so wrong, and you couldn’t be any happier.

“I promised myself to never make you cry again,” he joked lightheartedly as he wiped another tear away from your cheek, making you sniff in response, wiping them away with your sleeve quickly. “They’re happy tears.”

He looked into your eyes again, searching for answers and maybe even permission. He wanted to take things slow; give you time to reflect and time to adjust to being back home, but he simply couldn’t help himself.

When you leaned into his touch, he knew you basically gave him an okay to proceed.

He inched his face dangerously close to yours, lightly brushing his plump lips against yours. His hesitation made you smile, so you pull him down to your level by the back of his neck as you initiated the kiss.

He froze for a second at your dominance but quickly relaxed in your touch soon after he realized that you seemed to want this just as much as he did.

Kissing him was like muscle memory. It felt natural and blissful and suddenly you find yourself wondering about how you were able to live without this feeling of pure euphoria for over six months.

His love was like a drug, and all it took was one kiss to break your sobriety.

He pulled back, quickly assessing his surroundings before he realized the two of you were basically making out in the middle of the street.

He pulled you into an alleyway and pushed you against the wall of a random apartment building, his hands holding on to each side of your face delicately yet roughly as he kissed you with so much fervor, it almost made you dizzy.

“You really had me thinking I lost you forever,” he mumbles as his lips disconnected from yours.

You weren’t given the change to respond as his lips found their way to the soft spot in your neck. He still remembered every sensitive inch of your skin and used it against you all too willingly; wrapping his hands around your throat as he kissed and licked a pattern from your jaw to your neck.

A breathy moan left your lips as he started to suck possessive marks onto your neck and you instinctively wrap your arms around his waist, letting him do as he pleases, too entranced by the delicious feeling. You jumped up and he caught you by hooking his arms under your thighs, stabilizing you against the wall as you kept making out.

You giggled at his eagerness, a little flustered at the fact that you were in public; even though it was nighttime while being in a neglected alley; it still felt wrong.

He smirked against your neck when he felt you hesitate, and placed a soft yet wet kiss on your lips before letting go of you. He made sure you landed back on the ground safely, straightening out your clothes for you. “Maybe we should head back,” he says with a dark gaze, acting as if he didn’t just litter your neck with marks and bruises. He licked his pouty lips in amusement at the sight of what he had just done to you, knowing all too well that people would be able to see what happened while the two of you were gone.

You playfully shoved him aside, completely oblivious to how bad it really was but when you stepped into the elevator and saw your own reflection you gasped and shot Yeonjun a look of pure panic and distress. “YEONJUN!” you gasp loudly. “You can’t be fucking serious.”

“I’m sorry I just…couldn’t help myself.” he licked his lips again, cockiness emitting from his entire being. He inched closer to you to give you an innocent kiss on the top of your head and pulled the hair tie out of your hair, making your hair fall past your shoulders to cover the hickeys.

“This’ll do.”

“Oh my god, I hate you.”

He scoffed, casually smacking your ass in response.

On the remaining way back to your apartment you were constantly fixing your clothes and hair, trying to let it nonchalantly fall to the front but you knew it looked rather ridiculous.

You had hoped your friends were too intoxicated to notice but when you stepped foot in your apartment with Yeonjun closely trailing behind you, all eyes were on you again.

How long were you two gone for? 10, maybe 20 minutes?

“Hyung.” Taehyun grabbed Yeonjun by his collar, turning him around which made Yeonjun frown at the younger one.

“For fucks sake.” Taehyun sighs dramatically, wiping something pink from the corner of Yeonjun’s mouth with his index finger.

…it was your fucking lipgloss.

Yeonjun’s ears turned a bright red as he started to chuckle nervously. “Now I lost the fucking bet with Hueningkai. I thought it’d take at least a week before you two would start simping over each other again, it hasn’t even been an hour….AND OUTSIDE?” Taehyun sucks his teeth as a sign of disapproval, looking you up and down before his eyes lingered on your neck. “Animals. That’s it. That’s the description.”

“Pay up, loser. I told you.” Hueningkai cackles as he throws his arms around both Taehyun and Yeonjun’s shoulders.

“Y’all made a bet? An actual bet on our relationship?” you ask in pure disbelief. It was so like them to turn your emotional turmoil into their own amusement, but you couldn’t really be mad at them.

Your friends know the two of you better than anyone and probably saw this coming way before you did.

“Venmo me later.” Taehyun mumbles to Hueningkai in defeat while walking off, and you can’t help but chuckle at the irony of it all.

All of these months left in pure insecurity about your relationship with Yeonjun. Nights of pondering about your future, worrying if he had moved on or not. It was all for nothing

Yeonjun and you move like magnets, and no course of time could really drive you apart because when you’re reunited, you will always find your way back to each other. Always.

He looked at you a little dreamily, it still wasn’t sinking in that you were back. For good. And all his.

He snaked his arm around your waist as he stood behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as you told your friends all about your adventures.

He was clingy, you were clingy and neither of you was hiding it for anyone. You’ve had your fair share of secrets with Yeonjun and you were more than glad that those times were over with.

At around 4 AM most people left, and you were left alone with the boys, Ryujin and Mia.

You were on the couch, perfectly comfortable on Yeonjun’s lap as you leaned into his chest. One hand was rubbing your back in up and down motions while the other had found its way under your shirt and onto your waist. His cold fingertips grazed over your bare skin and suddenly it was way too hard to stay awake.

The chatter of your friends became background noise as your eyelids grew heavy. But you were shortly awakened out of your slumber as you felt Yeonjuns lips on your temple.

“You must be so tired after that flight and this whole circus,” he whispered with an empathetic pout, yet all you could do was nod as a response.

He chuckled at your cuteness and fixed a piece of your hair, kissing your forehead again before you buried your face in the crook of his neck.

“It’s funny how nothing has changed, yet everything is different,” Beomgyu says as he stares at you and Yeonjun with a loving smile.

Beomgyu might be a little shit with a smart mouth, but he cares for his friends. Seeing the two of you be so content in each other's presence made love emit from his pupils. Even though Yeonjun had been doing so much better the best couple of months, nothing compares to the pure happiness and giddiness that Gyu was seeing from him now, and that was all because you were together again.

Beomgyu wasn’t the only one to notice, because it was literally all of them, and especially Soobin.

Soobin who literally rebelled against any type of relationship between you and Yeonjun was smiling at the sight of you in his arms fondly. His two best friends finally found solace in each other after all the shit that both of you had been through together, and it made him sentimental.

A year had passed since the two of you started dating unofficially, though this was the first time in that whole year that Soobin was completely okay with it.

You were long gone and off into dreamland by now as Yeonjun looked at you with a small smile on his lips, but when he looked up to check why everyone had stopped talking, he was met with six pairs of twinkling eyes on him.

His pupils darted back and forth between them in genuine confusion. “Why? What’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” Soobin sighed contently. “For once, nothing is wrong.” he says as he leans forward to hug Mia from behind who was sitting between his legs on the floor.

Taehyun chuckled at Soobin’s dramatic statement and Hueningkai hummed in agreement.

“Not to get all simpy or anything, but with her being back it feels like our little dysfunctional family is whole again.” Beomgyu mumbles as he let his head drop onto Ryujin’s shoulder.

“Let’s try to be less dysfunctional,” Hueningkai says with determination.

“We can be less dysfunctional if you can clean up after yourselves and fold your own damn laundry so I don’t have to start a fight with you every 5 seconds,” Taehyun argues as he throws a pillow at Hueningkai's face. Making him laugh as he got in in the face with full force.

“Why can’t we just…have one peaceful moment…just one.” Soobin says rubbing his forehead in agony.

Yeonjun chuckled at the banter of his little brothers and looked back at you. “I don’t know guys, maybe that’s our charm,” he says leaving all of them in pure confusion as they looked at him for clarification.

“What do you mean by that.” Mia questions as she raises a brow at him.

“We’ll literally walk through fire to be there for each other, right? We go through things individually but will never fail to be there for each other in times of need, and I think we need to embrace our worst mistakes and arguments so we can grow from them. After all we’ve been through, I know we’ll be together forever. So, I say cheers to being dysfunctional,” He says with a proud smile, picking up his drink from the side table to raise it up in the air for a collective moment of cheers.

Dumbfounded by Yeonjun’s odd display of maturity and wise words, they all comply, raising their glasses in the air followed by a loud cheer to being “dysfunctional.”

The sudden loudness of their voices woke you up, completely out of it and sleep drunk; you lift your head from Yeonjun’s chest, squinting your eyes at your friends as you rub the sleep out of your eyes.

“Did I miss anything?” you say, your voice laced with sleep and confusion.

They all burst out into laughter at your current state paired with your obliviousness and messy bed hair.

“Nah, just six months of incompleteness,” Yeonjun says as he pecks your lips.

Mia stayed over that night and helped you unpack and clean your whole apartment the next day, which you were super grateful for but...you’d be lying if you said you didn’t wish Yeonjun would’ve stayed the night.

The fact of the matter is that you haven’t had time for a serious talk with him yet, because you know, tongue punching each other was of higher priority than hashing things out with actual words. Which meant you hadn’t really talked about your relationship status or how things will be moving forward.

“The last game of the season is tonight. Are you going?” Mia asked as she plops down on your couch with you.

“The last one? Already?”

“Yeah we’re gonna go celebrate after.”

“Even if they lose?”

“Girl, you know they don’t lose.”

You roll your eyes and laugh at Mia’s overconfidence in her boyfriends’ team. You were about to give her a definite answer before your phone started buzzing.

[Yeonjun, 12.44 PM]: Hi baby.

[Yeonjun, 12.45 PM]: Is it ok if I come over? I’ll bring us coffees from that café you love so much. 😌

[Y/N, 12.45 PM]: Yesss please 🥺

You giddily smile at your phone, wanting to squeal with excitement but you hold it in and Mia seems to notice. “Oh god, is it him?”

“Yeah, so.” you glare at her with playful intent “Let me be happy. He’s changed so drastically; I almost couldn’t believe that last night’s Yeonjun was the Yeonjun I left six months ago.”

“Yeah, he’s been working super hard to change and the whole thing with his mom helped too.”

“His mom? What do you mean?” You ask in genuine confusion, Mia bit her lip as she furiously shook her head. “Listen, I’m never, ever going to meddle in your relationship ever again. When he gets here, I’m sure he’ll tell you all about it.”

You chuckle, nodding in agreement until your attention is averted to your phone again as it buzzes in your lap once more.

[Hyunjin, 12.46 PM]: Hey sweetheart, did you have a good flight?

Oh….

Your eyes shoot to Mia’s in panic and she frowns, taking your phone out of your hold to read the message.

“Oh my god…is this your little slip-up?” she asks with disgust evident on her features.

“What do you mean slip up? I am a single woman,” you argue, but Mia wasn’t having it.

“AM?”

“WAS? GIRL, I DON’T KNOW. It was a fling, nothing more.”

“Flings don’t call you sweetheart and ask you how your flight was.” Mia says squinting her eyes at you.

“Mia…”

She sighed, visibly irritated with how naïve you were being, but you couldn’t have known that you’d fall back into Yeonjun’s arms that fast, and it’s not like you ever dated Hyunjin. He was just a friend…who you’ve slept with once.

“Listen, girl. I love you...but after everything Yeonjun has put himself through to be a better man for you, you better ghost this motherfucker right now or else.”

“Jeez, I will. It’s not like I like the guy. And since when are you team Yeonjun?”

She relaxed at your statement, slouching back into the couch. “A lot has changed y/n. He was a good friend to me when you weren’t here, that’s all.”

You nod understandingly, realizing that Yeonjun and yourself have a lot to talk about; maybe even more than you had hoped for now that Hyunjin reminded you of his existence with a mere text message.

Mia left soon after, wanting to give Yeonjun and yourself some privacy for when he got here, which wasn’t long after she left.

You opened the door for him, and he smiled at you. He was wearing a black beanie, an oversized black t-shirt, and those damned gray sweatpants of his that you love so much. Your heart did a thing at the sight and he quickly kissed your cheek before he rushed his way into your living room, trying to find a place to set down the coffee cups that were burning his fingertips at the touch.

“Careful.” You mumble as you watch him struggle. When he put the coffees down on your salon table, he quickly made his way to you again to properly kiss you this time.

He cupped your face, pulling you into him as he started to steal chaste kisses from your lips. You giggled into the kisses as you tried to untangle yourself from him, slapping his chest playfully to shoo him away.

He let go with a smile, taking your hand to lead you to your couch. You could tell by his whole body language and the way he skipped through your apartment that he was happier than ever.

You hoped you wouldn’t ruin that happiness by telling him about Hyunjin, but it shouldn’t matter because he didn’t matter. You only wanted to tell him just so you weren’t keeping any secrets anymore; cause god knows how that went the last time.

“How’d you sleep?” he asks you as he hands you your coffee. You happily take it from him and keep your eyes on him as you take a sip. “Fine, it was weird being in my own bed again, I missed it though.”

“Yeah? Anything else you missed?” his gaze was piercing into you as he took a sip of his Americano, fully aware that he was fishing for an ego boost.

“Theres this guy I kinda missed, I guess his name is Yeonjun.” You shrug as you take another sip; your flirty playfulness is one of the things that he loved about you, it kept things spicy.

“Oh him? He wanted me to tell you that he kinda missed you too,” he says with an amused glimmer in his eyes.

You chuckle. “Good.”

Suddenly the two of you fell quiet, but it wasn’t an awkward quietness; it was more of a realization that your endless flirting had to turn into somewhat of a serious conversation.

“Yeonjun…”

“Hmm?” his eyes softened at the way you called his name, he set his coffee aside turning to you completely to show you that he was listening attentively.

You sigh, not knowing what else to say other than the following. “I love you and I want to be with you.”

His eyes grow in size, a little shook by your directness but he composed himself as he fixed his posture quickly. “Why do I feel a ‘but’ coming?”

“I mean it, but I need to be honest with you too,”

“About what?”

“While I was at Brown, I kind of…flirted off and on with one of my lab partners and well…I slept with him…once. I swear it was only once and I-” he cut you off by raising his hand so you’d stop your nervous rambling and sighed. He knew exactly who you were talking about, because he had seen that motherfucker all over Instagram and had honestly seen this confession coming from miles away.

He was glad you told him though, cause he'd feel worse if you tried to hide it from him.

Though you didn’t post about him, Hyunjin did post about you, and basically tagged you in all of his Insta stories or group pictures. Yeonjun shamelessly cyberstalked the guy. It wasn’t one of his proudest moments, but he had to just to stay sane.

“Baby, we were broken up. You don’t have to justify what you did or didn’t do at that time. It’s not like I expected you to turn into a nun.”

You raise your brows in surprise at his mature response. “You’re not mad?”

“No. As long as it’s over with.”

“It is, I promise.”

“Good,” he sucked his teeth as he watched you. “Also, it’s not like anyone can fuck you as well as I can,” he states with a devious smirk as he pulled you close, making you gulp in response to his choice of words.

He chuckles at how easily intimidated you were by him and takes the opportunity to tease you.

“Did he?”

“N-no.” you stutter, innocently staring up at him. “He didn’t”

“Good girl.” He says, biting his lip while letting his thumb ghost over your lower lip.

His choice of words made your stomach turn but you knew better than to let lust get the best of you once again.

“Yeonjun…” you breathe his name like a warning, trying to avert the tension. “We…we need to talk.”

“We can talk.” He shrugs, pulling your legs towards him aggressively so you’d slide down. Your back was now on the couch as he parted your legs, settling himself in between them before hovering over you to kiss over the bruises he left last night. “After I give you a little reminder.” He smiles against your skin, pulling your shirt over your bra so he could kiss a trail down to your belly button.

“God I missed you,” he says digging his nails into your waist. "So fucking much."

(Warning: heavy smut ahead!)

Your mind goes into overdrive as he unties the tie to your sweatpants, and as he does so you stare at the outline that had formed in his own.

He didn’t waste any time, pulling down the waistband of your joggers with one swift motion while you helped him by lifting your hips off the couch.

He discarded of your clothes faster than your mind could comprehend but then you noticed that he was fully clothed, when the only thing you were wearing by now were your panties.

You pouted, pulling at his waistband but he grabbed your wrist, pinning your hands above your head so he could look at you, beautiful, bare, and all his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful.” His lips found their way to the sensitive nub of your breast as he eagerly licked and sucked on it while his fingers found their way onto your still clothed heat.

He rubbed his middle and index finger over your clit, making you moan at the sudden stimulation.

He pulled away, making his way down to your core as he littered your inner thigh with more and more hickeys.

You were eagerly moving your hips by now, trying to get him to kiss you where you wanted him most, but he was taking his sweet time and you were losing your patience.

“Y-Yeonjun…” you moan his name. He finally rewards you by pulling your panties aside. Licking his lips at your glistening arousal, ready to feast on you as if it was the last meal he’d ever have.

“Fuck.” He says with admiration to no one in particular, placing a soft kiss on your pussy before he started to slowly kitten-lick your sensitive nub. He lowly hummed in approval at the taste of you and fastened his pace slowly.

You gasped, arching your back to give him better access as he started to eat you out like you’ve never experienced in your life.

His skill was baffling, he had your brain melting and legs shaking while he struggled to keep you still.

“Ah…” you arch your back once more, trying to get away from the overstimulation but he held you down with his strong arms.

“Who are you running from baby, stay still.” He ordered with a low voice before getting back to business, and with ten more seconds, he had you cumming in his mouth as the vibration of his low hums drove you over the edge. You cover your own mouth to muffle your loud cries, but he pulled your hands away from your face, wanting to hear you fall apart for him.

“That’s it baby.” he mused in approval, finishing you off with one last lick before he came back up to assess your fucked out state. “So fucking good for me.”

Your chest was heaving up and down rapidly as you were trying to catch your breath. Once again you lost to the charms of Choi Yeonjun, but he was nowhere near done with you.

He quickly got rid of his own clothes and pumped himself a few times while looking straight into your eyes.

This man is a god, and he knew it.

His mischief returned when he realized you were watching him. “I think I got you wet enough, right baby?”

You almost forgot about his grit, your mouth salivating at the sight. Any slick you could build with him was a gift, because the last thing you wanted was for him to start a fire down there, cause that’s just how big he was.

You sit up which surprised him, but when you spit in your hand and pumped him a few times to slick him up some more he chuckled lowly as he realized what you were doing. He moaned in the form of a sharp exhale as your pace fastened, but he didn’t let you take control just yet.

“Scared?” he teased, keeping his eyes on you as you twisted your wrist a little more.

“No.” you huff.

“Then turn around.”

You comply without a thought. You were both sitting up on your knees while your back leaned against his chest. You threw your head back and he kissed your forehead sweetly. guiding himself into you while his other hand held onto your waist to stabilize you against him.

You curse at the stretch, digging your nails into his thighs for leverage as he fills you up.

You both moan as your walls clenched around him. His arms snaked around you from behind as he took a hold of your neck, pinching down on the veins on each side of your throat as he slammed his hips into you continuously with long and deep strokes.

The choking sensation made everything so much more intense, especially when the fingers of his other hand started to rub circles on your still abused clit.

Your eyes rolled back as your vision got blurry, tears prickling your eyes at how good you were being wrecked right now.

He let go of your neck, putting his hand on the small of your back to push you down on the couch so your ass was up, and your face was down.

He started to pound into you mercilessly, his rhythm and pace perfectly alternating as he grabbed a fistful of your hair. “You’re mine,” he grunted as he felt himself getting closer and closer by the physical stimulation of your tightness and the mental stimulation of your moans and mewls.

It didn’t take long before you both reached your highs as he was prone boning you into heaven.

Your orgasm washes over you, and right after you came, he reached his own high.

He pulled out right before he busted, releasing himself onto your back with a loud growl.

Your eyes flutter closed; way too fucked out to function as you catch your breath. You feel his weight move off of you to grab one of the napkins on your side table that came with the coffees, and wiped his cum off of you with a cocky smile on his face.

You built up the energy to look back at him, and when your eyes meet all you can do is giggle with him at how ridiculous you two are.

“So…I guess now we can talk,” he says with a smirk.

- end of smut -

Once you fully recovered from having your back blown out…quite literally. You came out of your bedroom after a quick change of clothes.

You walk into your living room while you pull a clean shirt over your head.

Yeonjun was still on your couch, watching you with a big boyish smile on his face as his gaze followed you.

“All good?” he asks, opening his arms for you. You nod in response, excitedly making your way into his arms. He moved you on top of him so you were on his lap and kissed your cheek sweetly.

“Where do we even start.” You think out loud as you start playing with Yeonjun’s hair. He threw his head back in solace, letting you massage his scalp softly.

You chuckle at his reaction, stopping your actions which made him lift his head up immediately, giving you a kittenish angry face. “Why’d you stop.”

“Because it’s been an hour since you got here and all we do is dance around the subject,” you say as you move off of him. You turn sideways, leaning against the armrest of your couch while you drape your legs over his lap and sigh.

After deciding that Yeonjun would go first, he told you everything. From the progress he has made with his therapist to the baffling information of his mother selling Choi Enterprises and moving closer to the Uni for him. He told you about their relationship and his interest in the fashion industry. He’s been spending time with his friends in the dance studio again after years of neglecting his hobby and his grades are improving drastically compared to last year too.

He’s been doing well both mentally and socially. Even though he still has his bad days, he’s a lot happier than he was before. You listened attentively asking questions and making sure you understood every detail to your best ability.

When it was your turn to start talking, you realize just how sadistic your exchange was now that you’re explaining the details out loud. You told him about the crazy schedules, spending days from 8 am to 10 pm in the lab, neglecting your health just to forget about your heartache. You were being brutally honest, and you saw Yeonjun’s jaw clench at the revelation.

If he knew you were having such a hard time, he would’ve contacted you more, but you explained to him how the experience made you stronger, harder and less of a cry baby.

You spoke about your new gained independence and soon realized that, where Yeonjun needed emotional cradling, you needed to be hit with the real world without the safety net that your friends and parents always provided for you.

The two of you had been talking for over two hours, and finally came to the inevitable question.

“So…what does that make us.” You sigh as you played with his fingers.

“Really, the ‘what are we’ question?” he chuckled, watching you play with the ring on his index finger.

“Well. Do you have an answer?” you mumble, letting go of his hand.

“I’m yours,” he says, putting his hand on your thigh while his other hand tugged on your chin to make you look up at him.

Your eyes grew in size, swallowing harshly when his fingers moved from your chin to caress your cheek. “And I don’t want to take things slow anymore, I love you too much to relive the dating phase."

“Me too,” you agree with determination. He smirked contently, leaning into you to feverishly kiss you on the lips.

“You know what that was?” He asks as he pulls away with his face still in close proximity.

“What?” you question with a giggle.

“Our first kiss as boyfriend and girlfriend.”

You slap his chest, bursting into laughter at his cheesiness. The sound of your laughs and giggles filled the room as he started to kiss you all over your face and neck, leaving you breathless and ticklish at his touch

“I love you, Choi Yeonjun, but I think you have an important basketball game to get to.”

Of course they won.

Yeonjun made the winning point which meant he had something to brag about all night.

You were at a local diner with all of the boys, their teammates, and respective girlfriends or boyfriends. Drinking, talking, and overall having a good time.

When Mia, Ryujin, Soobin, Taehyun, Beomgyu and Hueningkai heard the news about your new relationship status, they basically congratulated you as if you announced that you were getting married.

The whole thing was just way too funny, and Yeonjun dragged you around all night to introduce you to everyone.

The freshman on the team were so confused when Yeonjun introduced you as his girlfriend because they had never heard of or seen you before.

“Hyung, Imma be honest with you, I kinda thought you were gay.” Sunghoon admits as he apologetically scratched the back of his head.

“…S-same” Heesung states, looking at you both with apologetic eyes as well.

Yeonjun looked at them a little funny as he burst into laughter, pulling you closer to him. “Why?”

“Because well, we haven’t seen you with a girl all year, and with the way you look, I don’t know. 1+1 was gay I guess.” Jay, another freshman explained their point of view a little further, which had you cackling at the situation.

“Oh my god, so you little shits were the ones spreading rumors about me and Wooyoung!?”

“N-no! NO!” The kids protested, but Yeonjun was already playfully grabbing them by their collars to scold them.

You laughed at the whole ordeal, love emitting from your eyes as you watched Yeonjun be in his popular guy element again.

You zoned out for a bit, absentmindedly listening to how Beomgyu and Hueningkai were telling a story about that one time they took Yeonjun’s car for a joyride in the middle of the night without his permission.

Yeonjun noticed your mental absence, wrapping an arm around your shoulder to pull you into his chest, softly kissing your temple.

“What’s wrong?”

You shake your head, sentiment getting the better of you. This is the most complete you’ve felt in a while.

You kissed him with fervor, your hands lacing through his dark locks before you pulled away to place a small kiss on the corner of his mouth.

“I’m just really happy right now,” you say as you smile at each other lovingly.

1 year later.

Graduation was around the corner.

It was insane how fast time flew. You celebrated your first-year anniversary with Yeonjun the night before and were now laying in his bed the next morning, slowly waking up just to feel the soreness of what he did to you last night.

You groaned in agony at the bright light, even after all this time; you still weren’t a morning person.

You noticed how Yeonjun was missing from the bed, so you got up to look for him. Putting on his large shirt to cover yourself as you made your way to the boys’ living room.

Soobin was on the couch with Taehyun and Hueningkai looking you up and down with disapproval.

“Jesus. Did you get hit by a truck in there?” Taehyun asks as he clicked his tongue.

“Shut up smart-ass. Where’s Yeonjun?”

Taehyun chuckled, being completely used to your grumpiness in the morning by now. If Yeonjun wasn’t staying at your place, you were staying at theirs; so they were more accustomed to having you around like this.

“He said he had to run a quick errand; he’ll be back soon,” Soobin replies with light amusement in his eyes at how roughed up you looked.

“Hey, next time…be a little more quiet.” Beomgyu tells you as he walked out of the kitchen and into the living room.

“My room is next to Yeonjun’s you know.”

“Oh shut up hyung, I hear you and Ryujin almost every night,” Hueningkai says rolling his eyes, which made you crack your first smile of the day.

“Oh nooo, not my pure baby Hueningie” Soobin pouted as he trapped Kai in between his legs for a hug.

“Hyung, you’re gonna have to let go soon. Literally. When you guys graduate you don’t get to live here and baby me anymore.” Hueningkai protests as he tries to push Soobin off of him.

Soobin pouted, making you immediately feel bad for him.

When Yeonjun and Soobin would move out, Jay and Heesung would move in, which meant that Beomgyu, Taehyun, and Hueningkai had to hold down the fort as seniors for one more year until they graduated, and the thought alone made Soobin feel uneasy.

Soobin and Mia were officially moving in together after graduation. They had planned their whole futures together and both had job offers in the city from their internships.

“I’ll still come over…every…weekend. You know, just to make sure.”

You drift off into thought, realizing how Yeonjun and yourself have been living your lives in the moment without concrete plans for the future together.

Since your apartment was off-campus you still got to live there after graduation. You had gotten an amazing job offer because of your research at Brown, which had major corporations battle it out with outrageous contracts, salaries, and promises to your favor so your options were most definitely open.

Your future looked bright, as did Yeonjun’s who’d be working as a Creative Director for his mothers’ luxury brand...but how did you two miss the mark on planning a future together?

Were you that caught up in your own world to realize that adult decisions had to be made soon?

Yeonjun walked in, interrupting your thoughts. “Oh, hey guys.”

He set his keys on the kitchen counter, giving you a funny look. “I texted you to get ready.”

“Oh..shit, I didn’t check my phone, Sorry. Give me 20 minutes.”

You didn’t question why he wanted you to get ready, he’d probably take you out for breakfast or some shit, so you weren’t suspecting anything, but Yeonjun could sense that something was off about you.

During the car ride to your unknown destination, he looked at you as you stared out of the window. You were lost in deep thought about the whole graduation thing and didn’t even notice how the houses on the streets were starting to get ridiculously big as you drove further and further into a random neighborhood

He grabbed your hand, kissing the inside of your palm while rubbing those comforting circles into your skin.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, trying to look at the road while also looking at you from time to time.

“I’m just…worried about life after graduation. I don’t like change.”

Yeonjun raised his brows in surprise, a soft smile tugging at his lips as he turned the corner into a brand-new built street filled with massive villas.

The neighborhood looked peaceful, not too flashy and private. Maybe even a little too perfect to be real.

He pulled up to a random house, parking his car on the driveway. The confusion was evident on your face as he opened the door for you, reaching out to take your hand.

He helped you out of the car and you give him a look, chuckling at his awkwardness. “Uh…are we here to see someone?”

He sighed, back hugging you and leaning his head on your shoulder as the both of you looked up at the house.

“What do you think of this place?”

“It’s…beautiful. But I don’t really get why we’re here.” You giggle as you feel him kiss your neck and you turn around to face him, trying to find answers in his eyes.

“If you want…we can stay here.” He bit his lip nervously. “You know, after graduation.”

“W-what? I’m confused. Like Till The End of Summer?”

He shook his head, laughing once again while snaking his arms around your waist at your innocence and obliviousness. “You’re so cute,” he muses, pulling out a set of keys from his pocket and suddenly realization hit you as pure shock takes over your features.

He bought the fucking house.

He couldn’t help but laugh at your shocked Pikachu face. He had been planning this behind your back for so long and it was incredibly hard to keep this a secret, especially since literally everyone knew about it but you.

You didn’t know what to do or say, completely frozen and shocked as you look at the house with big watery eyes.

He pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, giving you the keys to the front door with a big smile.

“Till the End of Our Lives.”

Bonus Chapter 15

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helenapsent · 3 years ago

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Okay, I guess I'll just throw you some profiles of my novel characters... I still don't have the sprites ready, but I'll do them later (as soon as all my relatives get off my back, I guess)

Anyway, I'll start with one of them.

So, the 2nd main character in the story "Awaken God":

1) Name: Werner.

2) Last name: Richter.

3) Address: He/His.

4) Age: 28.

5) Gender: Male.

6) Orientation: Gay.

7) Voice: Dance My Darling - The Fairy Tale Has No Happy End

8) Birthday: 11/16/1218.

9) Zodiac sign: Scorpio.

10) Height: 6' 4" (quite small for his species)

11) Weight: 85 kg.

12) Blood type: IV

13) Race: Arachnids (spider-like people).

14) Character: Werner is a very good-natured and cheerful person, able to raise the spirits of those around him; he is quite responsive, can support the creature both in word and deed; at times he is very playful, due to which he starts flirting with almost everyone who appears in his sight; most often shows sympathy for children, loves to fumble with them; sometimes he is irascible and restless; occasionally shows aggression; always tries to be judicious and wise in relation to any matter.

15) Biography: From birth Werner lived on the border of Raspebertz with his parents and his grandfather Bernhard. When he was 5 years old, his parents went missing, at which point Bernhard decided to take over the upbringing of his grandson himself. Everything was going great as never before: the boy was growing and developing (both mentally and physically); in addition, he started growing spider's fangs on his palate, which caused the spider to drink the first potion he could find (it was "love") in order to somehow take away the pain in his mouth (of course, he succeeded, but, as they say, there's no smoke without fire: As he drank the entire vial of the love potion (which he absolutely should not have done), his body underwent a slight metamorphosis: three strands of hair (at his temples and across his head from forehead to occiput) turned purple-black, and his eyes only changed color to pink when he was in love/excited); soon made himself a small company consisting of an elf (Eley Gestalia), a demon (Acheron Infern), animal-like twin brothers (Tibo and Kibo Pomeran), and two human boys (Arthurro Wilhelm and Sarma Faber). They were all great with each other and liked to spend time in an abandoned, sooty shack, which was later converted into a "living base". In addition, they would sneak into jousting tournaments to watch the brave warriors fight one-on-one for the right to be considered the best of the royal knights and for the attention of a beautiful lady. Werner was struck by the superior swordsmanship of one of the fighters, a fame among all others and a nickname that every townsfolk knew. Ever since, the boy has been interested in martial arts and tried to emulate his idol, the "Black Knight". In addition, he began studying jewelry and at age 10 he got a job as an assistant to a local jeweler. He also discovered his talent as a dancer, so he began watching itinerant artists and taking dancing lessons from them. Soon after, Werner would meet the "Black Knight" (by chance) and have a little talk with him, after which the boy got into trouble: the "Black Knight" took advantage of his naivety to confide in him, took the poison from him and a few days later raped him, which sent Werner into a fever. Having barely recovered from what happened, the spiderwebby rethinks his relationship with the royal warrior, and so begins to treat the man with apprehension. So two years passed imperceptibly. During this time, Werner managed to learn how to look after babies, shoot a crossbow, make earrings brooches, develop his body sculpture to a good level and start giving demonstrations in the "World of Sweets" restaurant owned by his grandfather's friend, chef Igar Apsent. He also became close to the "Black Knight" again: he asked the younger Richter to come to his mansion and entertain him with his dancing; he also told him that the indecent gestures he had been making to Werner all this time were a direct expression of special attention and sympathy for him. And time went on and on. Spidey had turned 14, and he had grown noticeably taller and prettier. He thought everything All was well, but not until he learned that the "Black Knight" used it purely for personal purposes, and considered it nothing more than a toy for relaxation. From then on, Werner avoided the ruthless warrior and tried to stay out of his sight altogether. This went on for some time until the "Black Knight" was finally furious and decided to punish the boy properly: the man killed his parents in front of him and threatened that if he told anyone anything about their affair with him, he would end up dead as well. Scared to death, Werner ran away from the "Black Knight" far away (back home to his grandfather) and promised himself never to meet or exchange words with this awful man again, otherwise he would not escape a bad fate. Soon the little spider told his grandfather about what had happened, and the grandfather promised to protect him from all harm, no matter what. So slowly his life began to get better. Of course, he could not stop thinking about getting

revenge on the "Black Knight" for everything he had done to him, but he had no idea what to do, so he decided to postpone this move for later and develop himself. In the end he didn't have to wait long: the "Black Knight's" henchman, Sir Stuart, who was the exact opposite of him, gave the spider boy an idea by giving him a small poison vessel that looked like a locket for luck. Then Werner and his grandfather devised a plan of reprisal against the cruel warrior and, having carefully prepared and waited for the right moment, carried it out. Revenge was accomplished, everything ended well and the boy could finally begin to live in peace. A few more years passed. The elder Richter's health began to decline little by little, and Werner, fearing for his grandfather's life, decided to restore his strength with a healing potion. But since it had run out long ago, he had to make his way to the mall. He didn't have any money with him, so the little spider decided to sneak a potion from the counter, which he later paid for by cutting off his hand because it was illegal. So the boy had to return home with nothing. He was soon able to regenerate his arm (it was "grown back" with the help of the regeneration elixir), and at the place of the "stump" (in the wrist area) he got a peculiar mark similar to a tattoo of magical symbols, which covered his arm like a bracelet. Since then, the younger Richter promised himself that he would never act so recklessly again and would think carefully before doing anything. Soon his grandfather was gone and Werner had to learn to live on his own. At first it was quite difficult to get used to the new conditions but he soon adapted more or less and things got better. He gained the status of town minstrel, and also began to work as a house jeweler. In addition, he had to make periodic visits to Arthurro's castle, since he had recently become king and was in great need of his best friend's support at the moment. In addition, Werner began to take care of the neighbor's children, Helen and Leone, and experience with them many life-changing moments, such as realizing his place in the world, transition, the appearance of new "faces" in the family, rethinking his values, serious illness, the departure of a loved one and other "horrors". Everything was going quite smoothly, until one day Leon started to grow cursed flowers, mercilessly taking his vitality, and disappeared without a trace. Then Werner completely lost his taste for life and almost committed suicide. Fortunately, Helen prevented him from doing so and assured him that one day he would return. Two years had passed since then. During that time, many terrible things happened, some of which were the death of the missing boy's parents and the unfortunate duel of the cook girl. Richter never stopped hoping that his beloved child had found an antidote after all and was about to return home soon. Soon it did: little Leonid returned back to town, but as soon as he was about to return to his ordinary life, news of the events that had occurred in his absence reached him, and the boy instantly sank. Gradually Werner pulled the young guardsman out of his deep despair. He brought him to his senses and "set him on the right track," also promising that he would help him whenever he encountered great difficulties, to which Leone was unspeakably happy and grateful. This idyll lasted for several months, until one day Leonid brought an ancient book with ways to awaken the Dog of Paradise...

16) Likes: Leonid; young youths; teasing people; mushroom soup; sugarless bitter coffee; composing songs and entertaining people.

17) Dislikes: Lake eels; when they start harassing and touching without permission; pinking; stone statues; deliberate harm; off-handed insults.

18) Features: His tongue is 10.4 cm long; very good at crossbow shooting; can enchant others with his dancing and singing; can play the flute; knows several languages.

/Well, that's all :^)

#awaken god #werner richter #minstrel #concept art #art #my art #digital art #traditional art #collage #character profile #oc #my oc #oc story #oc art #dark fantasy #medieval fantasy #medieval aesthetic #oc aesthetic #artists on tumblr

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iamakiller · 4 years ago

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owl always love you

Wordcount: 2000

Notes & Warnings: It has been far too long since I shared any of my fiction with you, hasn’t it? Well, how about five unhappy memories of Valentines past, and one that went perfectly to plan (... or did it?)

As for warnings, there is no sex at all, but there is an unfortunate accident, and a hint of murder. Hmm, I must be going soft in my old age ...

Five unhappy memories ...

Charlie is four.

Today feels like a very special day. There were flowers and a card on the kitchen table this morning, and no arguments over breakfast. It was almost like last night’s fight didn’t happen.

At preschool, the classroom has been decorated with red and pink hearts because it’s Valentine’s Day. The teacher reads the class a picture book about an owl who was looking for love, and then they all do a craft based on the story. The teacher has drawn the owl’s face and body on card for everyone, but they have to color it in and try to write a message on the owl’s tummy. Charlie writes “Owl always love you Mommy” in purple crayon – his mother’s favorite color.

The next part of the craft is very hard. They have to trace the outline of their hands onto card, color it in, and then cut it out. They stick the hands onto the owl with glue, and fold them over, and it looks kind of like wings. Charlie is very proud of himself, because he did it without any help, and unlike the boy who sits next to him, he didn’t try to eat any of the glue.

At going home time, he presents the card to his mother. She glances at it, and puts it in her handbag.

“Do you like it, Mommy?” Charlie asks, but she doesn’t say anything. Maybe she didn’t hear him.

The next morning, he finds it in the trash.

Oh.

Well, it wasn’t very good, he realizes. His coloring wasn’t neat enough, and one of the thumbs was missing because of a mishap he had when he was cutting it out. Maybe if he’d tried harder, she would have liked it.

Maybe if he tries harder, she’ll like him ...

Charlie is eight.

Valentine’s Day has been the main topic of conversation on the playground ever since the beginning of February. It’s not like anybody ever talks to Charlie, but there are some advantages to being invisible. He hears everything. He knows exactly who is getting a Valentine, and – most crucially – who isn’t.

On the night of February thirteenth, he stays up very late. It isn’t like anyone is checking what time he goes to bed anyway, so he pulls together the materials he’s “borrowed” from his teacher over the past few days, and works until the early hours of the morning.

The next day, everyone in the class has at least one little handmade card on their desk by the end of the day.

… except Charlie.

And that’s one of the disadvantages of being invisible.

Nobody knows he exists ...

Charlie is thirteen.

According to his research, it is puberty that has turned the majority of his classmates into mindless, giggling idiots. Thankfully, he seems to be immune to this plague, and the hours he spends staring at the long, golden hair of the girl who sits in front of him in class is perfectly normal, thank you very much.

Melissa is the prettiest girl in the class by far. Charlie thinks she looks just like an elven queen ... if Galadriel had a Midwestern accent and a mother who was the head of the PTA. She is also constantly accompanied by a group of four uglier girls, who all stare at Charlie as he makes his approach, the poem he wrote for her clutched in a hand that seems to be permanently sweaty these days.

She accepts the token of his affection with the carelessness of one who is accustomed to such things, and doesn’t even say thank you. At lunchtime, Charlie overhears her reading excerpts of it to her gaggle of friends. She tosses her lovely, blonde hair back, and laughs scornfully, before tearing it up into tiny pieces and leaving it on her lunch tray for the cafeteria staff to clear away.

And suddenly, Charlie realizes how ugly she is.

At the end of February, poor Melissa has a terrible accident. One of the teachers finds her unconscious at the bottom of the stairwell hours after school has finished for the day. She must have tripped and fallen down the stairs somehow.

She makes a full recovery, but she never remembers what happened that day ...

Charlie is seventeen.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come to the dance?” asks cousin Pat from where he’s leaning in the doorway of Charlie’s bedroom. He’s dressed to impress, and Charlie can smell the terrible cologne he’s wearing from all the way on the other side of the room. “I can wait for you to get changed, I don’t mind.”

“I’m too busy,” says Charlie, staring up at the ceiling. Soon, it will be time for him to turn over and stare at the wall. “And I don’t like parties.”

“I don’t like parties either,” Pat reminds him, fidgeting with the cuffs of his blue button-down. “But you’ll never meet someone special if you don’t leave your room.”

Charlie responds by making a noise like someone being sick, and turns over to show Pat his back. “Bye. Have fun at the shitty Valentine’s dance.” He can feel his cousin’s gaze on the back of his head – can picture the annoying look of concern on his face – but he doesn’t move or say anything, and finally he hears the door close, and then Pat’s footsteps lumbering down the stairs.

Fuck Valentine’s Day, Charlie thinks. Fuck parties, and fuck ever finding someone special.

Charlie is 27.

This might be his first ever Valentine’s Day in a relationship, but he’s done his research into What Women Want, and blown a small fortune on trying to make the day special. A hundred red roses, delivered to Nicole on set. Reservations at the hottest restaurant in town. A pair of Chanel earrings, so expensive he actually choked on his own saliva when they told him the price, and had to be brought a glass of water to help him recover.

At the restaurant, Nicole opens the earrings, and stares at them for a long time. Her expression is completely unreadable, which is usually the case with her. They have been dating for two and a half months, and with every day that passes, Charlie feels like he knows less about her, which should surely be impossible.

“Don’t you like them?” Charlie asks, after the silence has gone on for so long that even the people at the next table have glanced over to see what’s going on.

Nicole closes the lid of the box with a snap, and looks up at him. “So you aren’t going to propose to me, then?”

Charlie blinks. “I – Wait, what?”

And then it all goes south very quickly from there.

The next day, there’s a blind item online about it:

Which C-list celebrity currently filming a procedural drama in New York was seen arguing with an unknown male at a local celeb hotspot last night? With a string of broken engagements already behind her, it looks like this feisty young starlet is single once more after dousing her hapless companion in Veuve Clicquot!

Unknown? Hapless? How rude!

He complains at length about the injustice of it all to the cocktail waitress he brought home last night, after he had sloped off to a bar to drown his sorrows and soothe the burn of his humiliation. Naturally, she has nothing to add to the conversation – having passed away six hours or so ago – but he appreciates her presence nevertheless. So much so that before he prepares her for disposal, he takes out her fake diamond earrings, and replaces them with the Chanel ones.

“I know I’m a day late,” he tells her. “But … happy Valentine’s Day.”

It’s the thought that counts, anyway ...

And then ...

Charlie is 37.

He is awakened at 5:30 a.m. on Valentine’s Day morning by his son barging in to the master bedroom. Without saying anything, Henry climbs onto the bed next to him, and falls asleep almost instantly. Charlie throws an arm over him, in the hopes of stopping him from tossing and turning like he often does.

Behind him, there’s a rustle of sheets “What’s happening?” Kitten asks, her voice thick with sleep.

“We have our usual Sunday morning visitor,” Charlie mumbles. “It’s still early, go back to sleep.”

A leg hooks over his, an arm curls around his middle, and Kitten lets out a happy sigh before falling asleep again.

Charlie closes his eyes, but it barely seems like a moment has passed before he’s being shaken awake by a very excited Henry. “Dad. DAD! Can we give Britt the card now?”

The digital display on the clock says eight, still an ungodly hour to be awake on a Sunday, but when Charlie rolls over, Kitten is already sitting up against the headboard, with her phone out. “A card?” she says, feigning surprise, as though she wasn’t banned from the kitchen for four hours the previous day, and hadn’t noticed the layer of glitter Henry was covered in when he emerged, which necessitated a dreaded bath.

“If we must,” grumbles Charlie, astonished at the speed with which Henry scrambles out of bed and sprints out of the room. He thunders downstairs, in search of the spot where they left their work of art to dry out after its completion.

Charlie rolls over onto his back, and stares up at Kitten. “Remember last year, when we stayed in bed all day?” he asks, mournfully. “That was the best Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.”

“Mm, same.” Kitten leans down to kiss him, probably intending it to be just a peck on the lips. But Charlie wraps his hand around the back of her head to keep her there, deepening the kiss until a gagging sound from the doorway interrupts them and they break apart to find Henry watching them from the doorway, looking slightly green.

“You guys are gross!” he scolds them, in a tone not dissimilar to Sandra when she is upset about something.

Charlie sits up, and scowls. “That’s not in keeping with the spirit of the day.”

“The spirit of the day is chocolate,” says Henry, approaching Kitten’s side of the bed, with one hand behind his back. “Ta-daaaaa!” he shouts, and pulls out the card, waving it in her face. A hefty sprinkle of glitter falls on the sheets, and Charlie winces.

“This looks very impressive,” says Kitten, glancing sideways at Charlie to check his reaction to the glitter, and stifling a smile. “Can I take a closer look?”

On closer inspection, the card is very large, and is a rather well-drawn and extremely glittery looking owl which looks to be a combination of about three different species. Its wings – which look suspiciously like the outline of Charlie’s hands – are wrapped around itself.

“Open it, open it,” says Henry, climbing onto the bed, and bouncing slightly, causing more glitter to be dislodged.

When Kitten carefully opens the wings, she finds another, smaller pair of hand-shaped wings underneath. “Yours?” she asks Henry, who nods vigorously. When she opens those, there is a ridiculously tiny pair of hands underneath. One has been colored blue, and the other pink.

“Little B,” says Henry. “We looked up online how small their hands would be. I drew them, and Dad cut them out. He said we should do one hand in each color since we don’t know whether Little b is a boy or a girl yet. And wait, there’s a message. Read the message!”

“Owl always love you,” Kitten reads, her voice trembling slightly. “From Charlie, Henry and Little B. Oh Henry, thank you! The owl, the hands, the sweet message. It’s perfect!”

She pulls Henry into a hug, which he tolerates for a moment or two before asking, “Can I go watch cartoons now?” with all the tact typical of an eight year-old boy.

“It was all Henry’s idea, of course,” says Charlie, once the young man in question has bounced out of the room. He tries to brush some of the glitter off the bed, and succeeds only in getting it stuck all over his hand. “I was but an unwitting accomplice to this madness.”

“Is that so?” asks Kitten, with a smile. She sets the card on the nightstand so she can see it, and curls against Charlie, who wraps an arm around her shoulder, and rests his other hand on her stomach. “You know, it reminds me of this book I read when I was little. About an owl who was searching for love. It was a really cute story.”

“Never heard of it,” says Charlie, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “But it sounds like a real hoot.”

“Oh god, not the owl puns.”

“There’s plenty more where that came from,” says Charlie, but somehow he finds himself lapsing into silence instead of releasing the string of dreadful jokes that are on the tip of his tongue. “Do you -” he begins, and then sighs, and runs his hand through his hair, inadvertently spreading multi-colored glitter quite liberally through it. He chews on the inside of his cheek before continuing. “Do you really like it?”

Is it good enough?

Am I trying hard enough?

Do you like me?

A gentle hand against his cheek brings him back to the present. “I don’t just like it, I love it,” Kitten reassures him. “And I love you very much, too. I know it’s a little rough at the moment with me working from home, but I’m still feeling very lucky. Who would have thought six months ago that we would be here? We’ve come so far, Charlie. I’m so proud of us. I’m so proud of you. Especially now you’re back in therapy again.”

Charlie holds her a little more tightly, and she tucks her head under his chin and settles her hand on his chest, over his heart, which is beating too quickly for his liking. “I’m trying, my love,” he says softly, taking slow, deep breaths to try to control the speed of his heart. “I never want to let you down again ...”

He closes his eyes, breathes in Kitten’s familiar, comforting scent, and tells himself that he’s just holding her, not clinging to her. I’m okay, he tells himself, over and over again. We’re okay.

I just have to try harder, and it will all be okay ...

#valentine's day #tw: bad parenting #tw: assault #tw: implied murder #B+C #direnightshade #tw: pregnancy #tw: angst #glitter should have a trigger warning

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socially-awkward-chocobo · 4 years ago

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Ok, so, the Corrupt Hylia au

Okay, so, out of the four art posts I've made, two of them have been tagged with "Corrupt Hylia au." An au I haven't really talked about that much. I should probably fix that. (Definitely. I mean definitely) Prepare for an info-dump

The Corrupt Hylia au was created when I was reading a fanfic at the same time I saw a post about how Hylia's existence made everything black and white. Some details of it were on my mind and I thought, 'hmmm, the story is too black and white,' and thus an au where Hylia is a manipulative b-tch controlling everything for her perfect hero villain story was born. Fabricating a curse, creating villains, capturing a certain someone to be the hero's "test," all with the Sheikah (but not the Yiga. They defected for a reason and Hylia is half of it.) I'll explain the 5,000 yrs ago plot, since I have that figured out but not the actual plot. It’s gonna be long and under the cut for those interested.

During one of the loops, one where she's there physically to make sure everything stays on track, a Shadow escapes and finds the hero. Lies are revealed, and all goes well until a Sheikah goes there "searching" for the hero and they have to interact with Hylia. Anyways, anyone can tell there's something wrong with Hylia, including the princess. The (corrupt) goddess just has that offsetting aura around her. Link meets here and they formulate a plan when they know they aren't being listened to. Anyways, it takes two years but they get a lot of people on their side. (Ganon, Vaati, Ghirahim, the Twili, Rito, Zora, Goron, and Gerudo) Vaati and Zelda (who have become research buddies) devise a spell to remember past lives - and that's how they learned the curse was fake, because Hylia f-cked around with the first hero's memories a lot, and the spell undid it while keeping those fabricated memories. You may have noticed, but things are going too well.

Anyways, at a parade or festival for who knows what (certainly not me) the Sheikah - who were sharing "experimental" (read: tech they've been hogging) so even people who aren't there can watch it happening. This was all part of a plan made by the Sheikah because (somehow) replaced Ghirahim's earing with one that would mind control him. (think what happened to Ingo in OoT manga.) The plan was to control him and make him wreak havoc, make people not trust him, and by extension, Ganon. That doesn't work, because Link (and Shadow) manage to break the jewel. Hylia tries to do some sort of "what an evil barbaric individual" speech, but Link cuts her off and calls her out on her bullsh-t. Not just about the parade, but about everything - the fake curse, messing around with the first hero’s memories, creating villains for the hero and princess to defeat, having the Sheikah do dirty work in the shadows, manipulating a darkling for the sake of “testing” the hero, controlling the king’s free will - EVERYTHING. And remember those speakers and cameras the Sheikah were sharing? They broadcasted all of it to Hyrule. And because Link had always been a good person, helping people out of the kindness of his heart, a lot of people believed he was telling the truth. This is the start of the war.

The ruined parade is the battlefield, they win and push back Hylia this time because she was caught off guard. But now she knows what's happening, and she is p-ssed. After the start of the rebellion, it is the first time she infuses her magic with malice. A few more battles later, a major one at Korok Forest that gets the forest children involved, and the crew makes the decision to split the Triforce into eight pieces. Ganon, Zant, and Ghirahim each have 1/3 power, Zelda, Midna, and Vaati all have 1/3 wisdom, and Link and Shadow each have 1/2 courage. If Hylia wants the entire Triforce, they're gonna make her chances of getting it as slim as possible.

One year into the war, and the scales haven't really tipped to either side. But Shadow (who was incapacitated and couldn't come out), Ganon, and Link were up against Hylia. Hylia uses an illusion on Link to make herself look like either a Marin or a past Zelda, and it makes Link freeze up and give Hylia a chance to attack and try to kill Link. Except that Ganon took the hit instead. Link snaps out of it, stuns Hylia, and tries retreating with Ganon. He doesn't get to Ghirahim in time, and so by the time Zelda can heal him, it's too late. With the demoralizing death of Ganon, things start to spiral downhill. Over the next three years they lost Vaati, Zant, and almost Midna. The only small victory that happened was Shadow breaking the mirror the Sheikah had forced bonded them to, and would mean that the Sheikah wouldn't be able to just count on Shadow stumbling out of there when he died anymore. (Shadow thought this meant his next death would be his last.)

Four more years after that, there are more fights and they get pushed back more and more. Somehow (haven't figured out how yet) they get in contact with the main three goddesses (Din, Nayru, Farore) and Hyrule will be sealed underground by them, Hylia with it. They know this won't be permanent, and hope it buys them enough time for the next reincarnation cycle to happen. As they leave, they're being followed by Hylia and the Sheikah. Link and Shadow make a decision to stay behind and make sure Hylia stays underground until the sealing. They know they're going to die doing this, but the worse they hurt Hylia, the longer it will take for her to break the seal.

The other leaders try to argue to let somebody else do it (mainly Zelda and Midna), but Link argues back that Hyrule needs their leaders, and Ghirahim made a promise to Ganon, one he can't keep if he's trapped or dead. So Zelda caves and creates a bow of light with enough charge for five arrows. The other leaders (and Ghira) all add some of their own magic to it, and Link and Shadow head off. The next part is going to be ripped directly from my notes because I'm lazy I don't know how else to phrase it.

Once they get to where the Sheikah are, Shadow immediately starts using the shadows to teleport and starts killing large amounts of them. Link kills whoever is foolish enough to attack him head-on swiftly with the Master Sword. They carve a path to Hylia.

The fight with Hylia is long and brutal. It is clear now that Hylia is using malice and is clearly affected by it. Malice-like pink is spreading on her along with one of her eyes becoming a malice eye. And it has not done anything for her sanity.

Hylia sends a lethal blast of light magic into Shadow and Link is covered in Malice injuries

Link gets separated from the Master Sword. Hylia is about to land the finishing blow on him when Shadow - who is currently dying btw - picks up the Master Sword (which is actively burning his hands and speeding up his death) and stabs her from behind. Shadow says something and Link uses the Light Bow. One shot in the head, one shot in the throat, one shot in the heart, one shot in the stomach, and one shot right on the master sword - which causes a beam affect that they learned about in one of the war’s earlier battles. Hylia isn’t dead, but she won’t be recovering for a while.

Link and Shadow share some final words before dying.

I still need to figure out the actual plot and stuff, but uh, if you read to the end, I hope you enjoyed! ^_^

(Ps: if there’s anything triggering or stuff, ask for me to tag and I will)

#Corrupt Hylia au #the legend of zelda #loz #zelda au #death tw #ch hylia #ch link #ch shadow #ch zelda #ch vaati #ch ganon #ch ghirahim #ch midna #ch zant #that should be everyone explicitly mentioned #dang it I meant biased in Hylia's favor not too black and white

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theotherwesley · 4 years ago

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tagged by @skyeventide! BRO THANK YOU <3

Rules: Choose your favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) and link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2020. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want (fan or original) so we can spread the love and link each other to awesome works!

1) Right at the beginning of 2020 (*can we even count the January-February Era as part of 2020? It feels like a separate timeline lol) I designed a homebrew D&D campaign around an extended-universe Watership Down world, where all player characters are rabbits. :3 I designed it over the winter and DM’d my first test game with my family! It was so, so fun, and I had high hopes of continuing to playtest it and refine the rules this year.... ah, the best laid schemes o’ Buns and Men gang aft agley. U_U

Some samples:

2) I got a truly awesome commission from a client on FR to do some stained glass window designs for their D&D campaign’s pantheon of gods. I got 4/6 done with them before my computer staged a revolution amongst our household electronics and went into a coma, taking BF’s laptop, a backup disk, and for some reason the toaster, with it. Then after that, the 2020 vibe got really uhhhhhh, shall we say, intense, and even after I found solution for my computer trouble I basically had zero creative fluid in the tank, so this was the last serious art I did for most of the year. :(

But! I do really like these pieces, and I will eventually get to the remaining two...... sometime. I don’t want to jinx it. >>;

3) Got into a SUPER JUICY and EXTREMELY DENSE long-form RP with @salmaganto over on the Tolkien Blog. It involves so much research into historical and logistical minutiae about running a Big Evil Fortress, surviving sieges, uh... managing thrall labor, transitioning between war and peace... It is absolutely my favorite shit lol, just,,, 100% gratuitous worldbuilding nonsense, with my favorite micro-rarepair ship (or rather, its platonic counterpart). Again, this level of creative output, especially dealing with some controversial topics and in-depth analysis of like, authoritarian regimes, lost a looooooooooootttttttt of its um, escapist appeal. I desperately want to pick it back up, but man, this year was a lot, and I’m still recovering. _( :’| 」∠)＿ We’re all still recovering.

4) Did some nerdy fanart for two of my favorite actual-play shows:

5) Attended a Zoom life-drawing session hosted in Perth, and it was a blast!

6) Okay so this is a weird one, but, I edited a font??? I’m disproportionately pleased with this niche accomplishment. I had ZERO working knowledge of font design programs, and I went with a free, super nuts-and-bolts shareware application, taught myself how to use the basic functions, and then muddled my way through editing one of my favorite fonts, HamletOrNot:

“Well, this font isn't really Blackletter, but it has a certain historical touch, so it is welcome on these pages. The typeface Hamlet was designed by Edward Johnston for a Shakespeare edition, Cranach Press, 1929. The award winning book Hamlet was considered “the most beautiful book of the year 1930”. HamletOrNot – digitized by Manfred Klein & CybaPee.“

If you hunt down the mysterious user “CybaPee”, you find typographer Petra Heidorn and her many, many preserved, historical fonts, which have been painstakingly digitized and made available for free on... well, pretty much every free font website ever, which made it a real pain to source.

I love this font with my whole heart, and I very much wanted to use it for parts of my comic (you know, the one) but HamletOrNot has a couple of readability failings that made it a bad match for small dialogue, and worse for ME, SPECIFICALLY: it does not include most diacritic marks. *cries in Tôlkíën*

So I embarked on this fool’s quest to do some touchups and add the diacritics and special characters I’d need to spell all the crazy bullshit for the comic, because HOW HARD COULD IT BE, HAHA, TO ADD A FEW MARKS AND CLEAN UP A FEW TANGENTS? HAHAHA. HAHA. .....Anyway, I think I actually started this process sometime in like, 2019, but I FINISHED IT IN 2020, and I’m proud of myself.

I’m calling the modified font ArdaOrNot, and it looks something like this:

7) Oh yeah, about that comic (you know, the one):

‘Ey, would you look at that! Progress! :D Slow, agonizing, unoptimized progress! I was hoping I’d have the first six full color pages ready with lettering and everything by the end of 2020, but.... well, here we are. Wow, I am SO TIRED OF BEING SICK, I HAVE THINGS I WANT TO DO SO BAD HAHAHAA FUCK

8) Another minor accomplishment that I’m disproportionately proud of, I made some new baller playlists and polished up a few old ones to a fine gleam.

Anyway-- I don’t know who has and hasn’t been tagged, but consider this an invitation to anyone who has the energy to post your highlights from the last year. It was actually pretty therapeutic to see some things I DID manage to accomplish, because so much of this damn year felt empty and lonely and barren. But there they stand: the weird little triumphs that were sprinkled throughout the months, somehow improbably blooming in the wasteland. :’)

#WesleyArt #art by me #Lapinland #Forging Arda #long post #Wesley's 2020 Art Recap #Despite Everything

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spartanguard · 4 years ago

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even death won’t part us now (2/?)

Summary: Two covens, both alike in dignity, / In fair New York, where we lay our scene, / From ancient grudge break to new mutiny, / Where civil blood makes civil hands unclean. From forth the fatal loins of these two foes / A pair of star-cross’d lovers take their life; / Whole misadventured piteous overthrows / Do with their death bury their sires’ strife. (Captain Swan + West Side Story + vampires. But not as sad. Probably.)

rated M | part 1 | AO3 | 3.9k words

A/N: I was going to post this update yesterday but *life*. We really get into the story, though—I hope you enjoy it! Thanks again to @optomisticgirl for being an awesome beta; to @thesschesthair for her amazing art; and to @kmomof4 and @cssns for putting this event on and pushing me to continue this story!

say what you will about Glee, but Darren Criss’s version of this song is amazing

part two— the air is humming, and something great is coming...

2020

The sun was setting on another day, just like it had for the last 5000-plus. At least, Emma figured the number was up there; she’d stopped counting around day 4,588. Which was really an absurdly long time to count considering her days were no longer numbered, but old habits died hard, even if she never would.

She’d accepted that fact somewhere around day 4,040, which ironically was her 40th birthday. But instead of dealing with gray hairs and wrinkles and aching joints, she was still in her 28-year-old body, fairly spry and with exactly one white hair blended into her blonde. (Not that she could see it in the mirror anymore—or, you know, anything—but she knew it was there and that was all that mattered.)

She knew she’d finally settled into her new life when she was looking forward to drinking the deer blood she had at home and not longing for chocolate cake like she had the past several birthdays. Well, she still wished she could eat it—real food didn’t digest properly anymore—but the blood sounded just as good.

“It probably took me about that long to come to terms with it, too. Longer for your dad,” her mom had told her about the revelation.

That had been another epiphany: that the kindly undead couple she’d somehow ended up on the doorstep of—David and Snow Nolan—were her parents. Her actual birth parents. You know, the ones she’d been looking for her entire mortal life? (Had once dreamed would save her from one shitty foster home after another until she finally gave up hope, and instead turned to counting the days until she moved again?)

As it turned out, they’d been attacked and turned shortly after she’d been born—which apparently had been in a backwoods cottage in Maine that her grandparents had owned—and were taking her to the hospital for checkup after the fact. They didn’t trust themselves to face their new reality while also in charge of an infant (an infant with delicious-smelling blood, no less—creepy, but true) and so finished the journey to the hospital, but left her there alone.

Coming to terms with that had taken 1,187 days. There would have been lots of tears, were any of them able to cry; but instead, there was just a lot of emotion, which Emma had never dealt well with. But she was getting better. Who knew the kind of personal growth one could achieve after death? And it was a good lesson in how to handle (or not handle) things should the son she herself gave up ever manage to track her down.

(She looked—once, before she was turned. All she’d been able to find out was that he ended up in the foster system, too. She just hoped he was having a better time of it than she did. Well, had—he’d be an adult by now, wouldn’t he? Damn.)

So. Anyways. Sunset. Which Emma was watching from the roof of their building, which had become something of a refuge for her over the past 15 years. She had her own bedroom, but after so long on her own, being an adult suddenly under the same roof as her parents (who, despite being physically younger than her, still acted like her parents) was a bit stifling at times.

It wasn’t much, but it was her own space: she’d cobbled together a tent with some reclaimed tarps, filled with gently-used cushions, and on nice nights, would bring out a sleeping bag and let the lights and sounds of the city wash over her. It had been overwhelming at first—she kind of envied that her parents only had to deal with forest smells when they turned, and not the incredible everything of New York—but it had dulled over time, which she probably should have expected; it had only taken her a week or so to get used to the smell the first time, right?

That’s to say—the overwhelmingness did; she learned to tune things out and let them fall to the background. But her senses themselves were the sharpest they’d ever been, consequently making her even better at her job than she’d been pre-death. Having ethereal beauty compared to a mere mortal easily drew in most of her targets; her preternatural sight, hearing, and strength made it pretty simple to track them down and subdue them (she loved it when they ran); and she’d found out they were extra willing to comply with her demands when they were down a bit of blood. (It probably was connected to the whole your-sire-can-control-you thing but it didn’t last once they’d recovered from the blood loss and it kept her from murdering random ne'er-do-wells on the street; the lower a body count a vampire kept, the better.)

On a normal night, she’d be getting ready to catch another skip: either gussying up for a honeytrap, revving up her old Bug for a stakeout, or trying to track them down on Tinder while binging Netflix in the background (they kept up on technology...for the most part; she still wasn’t sure what a TikTok was). One thing a lot of the stories leave out is that it takes a long time to build up the kind of wealth and decadence you see with old vampires; even Emma’s parents still had to work, 40-odd years into this thing (David was an after-hours vet and Snow taught night school) and their townhouse was not rent-controlled.

Of all the vampire media out there, their existence was far more What We Do In The Shadows than Twilight.

(Emma had always preferred comedy anyways.)

God, she was really getting sidetracked tonight. Anyways. No one was working because it was the anniversary of her being turned—her rebirthday, so to speak—and her mom was very much Leslie Knope when it came to anniversaries, but especially this one, given that it marked them finally coming together as a family.

That, and they were all going to get drunk.

“My class is a bunch of assholes this semester—I need this,” Snow had gushed earlier that week, grading papers behind their blackout curtains. (Vampires didn’t sparkle, thank god—at least, not without the help of glitter—but they were dangerously susceptible to sunburns, so the whole pale thing was accurate.) “And David—you’ve worked every weekend the last month; they can definitely operate without you for one night.”

“I put in for it a month ago, dear,” he tutted as he gathered the laundry, placing a kiss on her cheek as he went.

They were definitely one of those nauseatingly cute couples, so it was a good thing Emma’s gag reflex was dormant. And, though she’d never admit it, she was a bit jealous that they’d been able to find—and keep—something that had evaded her her entire mortal life, and likely would for her afterlife, too.

Every now and then, a flash of blue eyes blinked into her vision; the same pair she’d seen on the night she transitioned. She still wasn’t sure they were real, and her parents genuinely knew nothing when she’d asked, so she never did again. The fact that she hadn’t ever seen them again, despite knowing just about all the vampires in this part of town (for better or worse), had her pretty convinced it was a mania-induced hallucination. But damn, was it a good one.

“Emma, are you ready?” Snow’s voice pulled Emma from her daydreams (nightdreams?). “It’s time to go,” she shouted—not loud enough to annoy the neighbors, but enough for Emma to hear.

“Coming,” she replied, then took one last glance at the night sky. Maybe there was something different in the stars? She didn’t know; she just had this feeling that something was going to change tonight.

She brushed her hands down the skirt of her light pink dress; it wasn’t what she’d usually wear, but since this wasn’t her typical honey trap, she’d borrowed a dress from Snow. It was definitely sweeter than her taste, with its pastel color and A-line skirt, but just cut low enough to not be demure. Her high ponytail fell somewhere in between. Her fangs would probably take it in another direction, but it’s not like she was going to pose for photos—she only just showed up in those.

In a moment, she was back in the house, grabbing her purse and joining her parents (who equally straddled the line of sweet and seductive; it was a vampire thing).

Out of nowhere, a flash of light blinded her. “Seriously?” she cursed, blinking away the temporary blindness, only to see her mother holding a Polaroid camera. That was the one thing that could document them; thank god the hipsters over in Greenwich Village had clung to them.

Snow just grinned and shook the picture while David lectured, “It’s not like we got to see you off to prom or anything.”

“Yeah, but are you going to do this every year?”

“Yes,” Snow stated matter-of-factly, smiling at the photo before setting it aside. “Now come on; there’s a bloody mary calling my name.”

“Where are we going?”

“That new underground club at 43rd and 10th. Figured we should try it, and it should be trouble-free.”

‘Trouble’ meaning the Aurum coven. Emma still hadn’t figured out the reason for this centuries-long blood feud, but she did know that she’d been dragged in on the side of Coroza, under a woman named Cora; turns out Walsh had been one of her cronies. And it normally wouldn’t affect her, save for the fact that her parents were turned by someone in Aurum (led by the mysteriously mononymed Gold) and that had dangerous implications, not to mention the rising tensions between the two groups as they began to encroach on each other (and each other’s feeding grounds) on the Upper West Side.

“You sure? That’s awfully close.” 43rd had become an arbitrary border between the two factions, and there had been more than a few skirmishes while people were on the prowl for a midnight snack. She’d had a couple close calls of her own while tracking down skips in the part of town, but had somehow managed to evade notice.

“It’s on our side of the street,” her mom shrugged in response and grabbed her purse.

(Why one side couldn’t just move to another part of town, Emma didn’t know, but she was definitely aware of how stubborn vampires could be. And she wasn’t going to move; there’s no way they’d be able to get a place like this anywhere else for a reasonable price.)

She’d hardly gotten out the door when a familiar scent caught her nose—and not necessarily a welcome one: Graham.

“Uh, hi, Emma,” he stammered, while giving her a shy yet adorable grin.

“Hey,” she answered back, not meeting his eyes—and instead finding Snow’s, who was intently studying the sky. Snow had been trying to get the two of them together for at least 10 years, and while Graham was a great guy, a good friend, and handsome to boot, Emma had never been attracted to him like that. A fact that seemed to keep falling silent on Snow’s ears despite her enhanced hearing.

(His blue eyes were pretty, but they weren’t the pair that kept haunting her.)

Given the sudden awkwardness that settled over the group—because that was apparently something you had to deal with whether you were dead or alive—it was up to Emma to break it. Not that she had any skill in that department.

“Alright, uh, let’s go,” she said with little confidence, and set off towards the club, with the others falling in behind her; Graham stayed close and if she wasn’t mistaken, attempted to put an arm around her, but she walked a bit faster to avoid his reach. The bar was only a few blocks away, which they could normally cover in less than a minute, but they had decided to blend in with the crowd tonight; it was nice to be normal every now and then.

But still—every now and then, the hairs on the back of Emma’s neck rose, and it had nothing to do with Graham’s proximity. Something was coming; she just didn’t know what.

That wasn’t for her to worry about tonight, though. Tonight was for fun and drinks and dancing. And once they got to the darkly-lit club, that’s what she focused on for the next hour or so—

—Until her gaze locked with the blue eyes from her dreams.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

Killian took a deep breath as soon as he exited the jetway—and immediately regretted it. He didn’t know why he expected LaGuardia to have changed at all in the past 15 years. Despite all the reconstruction, it still smelled the same: of old coffee, questionable sushi, and stale humans. (The latter was a double-edged sword: despite eating shortly before he got to Heathrow, there had been a few delays before takeoff and he was feeling rather peckish now, although nothing here seemed appetizing. Which was probably something he had in common with mortals at the moment.)

He didn’t know why he’d assumed that he might have been routed through JFK this time—why would he think Gold would care enough to properly welcome home his best operative from abroad after 15 years?—but he tried to push that ire to the back of his mind as he summoned an Uber.

At least the delays meant he landed just as the sun was setting; his previous plan had been to hang around the terminal until dusk, so at least this prevented any awkward encounters with some overtalkative Midwesterner on their way back to Cleveland. Signs pointed him to the ride share lot, and a gentleman named Marco was waiting to take him home.

On the ride into the city, he marveled at how New York always seemed like a living, breathing thing, constantly evolving and changing. He could still sharply remember the dusty bustle of the town more than 200 years ago, the sound of carriages running over dirt and cobbled streets. He’d watched as the city grew, sprawling both across and beyond the Manhattan island and up into the sky, the smell of horses and people and sweat replaced by the acrid stench of exhaust (although, even his extra-sensitive nose had gotten used to it in short order).

So it was both surprising and not to see how much the city had changed even in the last 15 years, most noticeably in the skyline: the Twin Towers were still fresh in everyone’s memory when he’d left, so to see the new One World Trade Center in their place was a bit jarring. But the sun still glinted golden off the skyscrapers the same way; pedestrians still hardly waited for the crossing signals to give the okay to go; and though he wasn’t in a yellow cab, a language barrier still lay between him and his driver.

Cash tips were understandable to all, though, which Killian handed over once they’d arrived at his apartment building on 34th—the Chelsea side. He’d owned his flat since the building was constructed, which was fairly impressive, but did require him to occasionally change the name on the paperwork lest anyone notice anything suspicious.

(Someone had figured out at some point that it was helpful to have an ally in both the Social Security office and the DMV; Archie and Jefferson traded off every 20 years or so in order to help create revolving identities for the members of the vampire community. The name on his ID at the moment was Kyle Johnson, and during the past 100 or so years since he’d been required to have one, he’d also been Killian James, Ian Joseph, and—though he had to admit, he’d picked this one just to see if he could get away with it—James Hook.)

And thankfully, he’d had a reliable roommate for the past 80 years. “Honey, I’m home,” he called out after braving the still-shaky lift to the top floor.

“About bloody time,” Robin called back from the couch. “You know I had dinner ready for you before you left?”

“Ha,” Killian answered. “I’d hate to see what that looks like after all this time.”

“Oh, I let him go. And good thing, too—he ended up writing Hamilton.”

Killian had barely poked his head into his musty bedroom before he returned to the living room. “You didn’t actually have Lin-Manuel Miranda in here, did you?” To most people’s surprise, Killian was a bit of a theater nerd; the West End was great, but he was looking forward to catching up on Broadway again.

“No. But maybe that’s a good strategy if we want to get tickets.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

His stomach grumbled in agreement.

Robin chuckled. “There’s a bottle in the fridge you can have; figured you’d be hungry when you got back.”

Killian tossed his luggage in his room and emerged again. “Have I ever mentioned that I love you?”

“Maybe a few times over the past several decades.”

He downed the bottle quickly; the black blood market never gave the best stuff—considering the type of mortals who would be willing to sell their blood for money and didn’t qualify to sell plasma—but it hit the spot in a pinch, and every now and then had something good. This definitely wasn’t, but it sated his thirst long enough to take a shower and wash the airplane off of him.

As he stared at the fogged mirror with nothing looking back at him, rubbing his palm over his permanently well-trimmed scruff, he realized he hadn’t yet checked in with Gold. Even if he’d spent the last decade-plus doing the man’s bidding from abroad, it was still easy to forget about him.

Well, mostly—until he glanced back down at his blunted left wrist. Then it just brought ancient memories to the surface, as fresh as the day they’d happened, no matter how many centuries had intervened.

Which reminded him: he was still missing something. He shot off a quick missive to Gold as he pulled some clothes out of his depressingly dated closet (having left anything more modern in a consignment shop in London), managing to put together something vaguely timeless. But before he dressed, he turned his attention on the nightstand drawer.

He slowly pulled it open, though he knew what would be inside: his hook, as sturdy and sharp as ever, with its well-worn leather brace. Sure, he had a fairly modern prosthetic hand—one that TSA didn’t mind so much—but the hook had come first, and was definitely his preferred artificial appendage. He hadn’t meant to go so long without it, but then again, he hadn’t expected his London assignment to take so long.

(Although, 15 years to him was roughly the same as 2 or 3 to the average mortal.)

Slipping on the soft leather was like greeting an old friend (well, another one, albeit he’d known this one longer than Robin). And snapping in the hook settled a part of him that he hadn’t realized had been adrift all these years. It didn’t fully still the odd sense of anticipation he’d had ever since he landed, but he definitely felt more at ease.

With that settled, he finished dressing and then headed back to the living room and flopped on the sofa next to Robin. “When did we get a new couch?” he asked indignantly, inspecting the unfamiliar upholstery.

“As soon as you left.”

“And what was so wrong with the previous one?”

“It was from the 70s! It was hideous and uncomfortable and you know it.”

Killian could only sigh; Robin was completely right.

“Anyways,” Robin continued. “We’ve plenty of time to argue about furniture but very little to decide what we’re doing tonight.”

“Why? What’s tonight?”

“You arrive back in North America for the first time in a decade and a half and you think that’s not a reason to celebrate?”

“Well, I was in Toronto a few years ago.”

“Still the Commonwealth. Doesn’t count. What do you want to do? There are quite a few people anxious to see you.”

Well that’s good for them, he thought, but he wasn’t so sure of the same. The time away in the UK had definitely made him reconsider some of his connections back here in the States; getting away from the drama with Coroza had made him realize how petty he found it all. Though he’d never be completely extricated given that Gold was his sire, he’d definitely be alright with staying distant from the other frivolous disputes.

(And after spending a bit too much time in Brighton—particularly with some headstones bearing the name Jones and some rather divy taverns that were still somehow open all these centuries later—he wished more than ever to be free of Gold’s influence. Alas.)

He supposed he could placate them for one night, though; it’s not like he was going to sleep anyway. “Are there any new clubs to check out?”

“For you—plenty. For all of us...aye, there’s one that’s just opened up about...10 blocks away? Ish?”

“In which direction?”

“Up, but kind of midtown so it should be in the clear.” Meaning no one from Coroza would be there.

“Sounds fine, then,” he replied; after so many years, every club started to feel the same, but he was willing to give it a shot.

It wasn’t long before he found himself dressed in a waistcoat and slacks that were trendy a decade ago, hoping his hair was styled appropriately (he stopped caring about 130 years ago), and waiting outside the apartment building of Robin’s girlfriend Regina.

“Jones, it’s the 21st century; why do you still have a fish hook on the end of that arm?” she greeted when she emerged from the tower, with a young vampire behind her.

“It’s nice to see you too, Regina,” he tossed back. They’d known each other for well over a couple hundred years and this was just how they communicated. Nodding at the young man, he continued, “Who’s this?”

“This is Henry; he’s new.” The statement was matter-of-fact enough that Killian knew she wouldn’t say anything else. But he seemed friendly, albeit nervous, and Gold never complained about new vampires on their side—just Coroza.

It didn't take much for him to immediately think of Emma. His thoughts had drifted to her more than he cared to admit over the past years, wondering if she’d acclimated or if she’d burned out. It was definitely odd that such a brief encounter had left such a lasting impression, but at the same time, it had taken him well over 250 years to get over his first love; he was a romantic at heart, even if that heart no longer beat.

He of course said nothing about it as they continued on; if no one had discovered what he’d done that night by now, he was content to leave it that way. There were other ways of him finding out if she was still around, such as—

—Such as the green eyes staring at him from the other side of the club, barely a minute after he’d entered it, freezing him in place.

★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★・・・・・・★

thanks for reading, friends! let me know if you want/don’t want a tag! @kat2609 @xpumpkindumplingx @shipsxahoy @amortentia-on-the-rocks @mryddinwilt @cocohook38 @annytecture @shireness-says @ohmightydevviepuu @profdanglaisstuff @wingedlioness @word-bug @distant-rose @wellhellotragic @welllpthisishappening @let-it-raines @pirateherokillian @bleebug @its-imperator-furiosa @fergus80 @killianmesmalls @sherlockianwhovian @ineffablecolors @laschatzi @ive-always-been-a-pirate @nfbagelperson @stubblesandwich @lenfaz @phiralovesloki @athenascarlet @ilovemesomekillianjones @whimsicallyenchantedrose @snowbellewells @idristardis @scientificapricot @searchingwardrobes @donteattheappleshook @lfh1226-linda

#cs ff #cssns20 #cs vampire au #even death won't part us now #my ff #cssns 2020

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too-gay-for-marvel · 5 years ago

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i want to come home pt.5

a/n: i’ve written it out and this will have 6 parts, so one more after this. i’ll have a full emotional thanks for the last part, so get prepared. also, @thatkgrl was RIGHT and Y/N’s revival is based off of Mass Effect 2, though my “science” is based on NOTHING factual. i have nothing to give you for getting it right except my undying love. anyway, here we go! almost there!

Word Count: 1357

Warnings: semi-medical jargon, death explanations

Pairing: Natasha x Reader

(pt.1 pt.2 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6)

“You sitting down?” Tony asked, even though he was looking directly at Natasha and he could see she wasn’t sitting.

“Stark-”

“-Okay,” Tony said as he held his hands up in defeat. “Then hold onto your butt.”

Still sitting, Tony pulled up a hologram of you. It showed your blood flow, your organs, your muscle and skeletal structures. None of your skin, but that was the least of Natasha’s worries. Up on the right side of your head was a date; the day you had officially become a SHIELD agent.

“As you can see, this is our dear Agent Romanoff,” Tony said, pointing to your hologram.

“Before the mission.”

“Before the mission,” Tony repeated with a nod. He moved his hand - and the hologram - to the side before pulling up a second image.

It was still you, but Natasha could see the changes. The colour of your organs was different, your heart was shaped differently, your blood flow looked quicker. There were anomalies on parts of your skeleton and musculature. In the same spot as the other hologram was a date; over three months after your death.

“After,” Tony said simply.

“After,” Natasha mumbled to herself, her eyes glued on your holograms.

“Technical cause of death is crush syndrome,” Tony continued, pulling up a third hologram that was obviously from your death.

Natasha didn’t look at it.

“Muscle breakdown, shattered bones, blood loss, trauma. I could go on,” Tony said with a wave of his hand, as if this was the morning news.

Natasha wanted to slap him.

“When I started working on her, the body had started to decompose.”

“When was she-,” Natasha stopped, cleared her throat, and started again. “-When was she recovered?” She asked, still avoiding looking at your broken body. Instead her eyes were trained on Tony and his forced nonchalance.

“Around…,” Tony pursed his lips and looked up to the ceiling, “three weeks after she died?” Tony finished on a question, looking back at Natasha. “Give or take a few days?”

You had been left in that collapsed building. For three weeks. Alone for three weeks. She had seen the pictures of the building, and you had been left there? No one had tried to get to you?

No one had told her?

“You didn’t know, Nat,” Tony said softly. He reached his hand out as if to try and comfort her, but let it fall back into his lap.

“No,” Natasha whispered, “I didn’t.”

And that was the problem.

“She’s okay now,” Tony said, voice still hushed, but he had the common decency to pull your after-death hologram down.

“Tell me how,” Natasha said, no hesitation in her voice. Maybe she was going to hate what she was about to hear. Maybe it would make her feel better. She wouldn’t know until she heard it.

“A lot of money,” Tony admitted as if he hadn’t just tried to comfort her over her dead wife. “And my genius intellect.”

“Tony.”

“Long version or short?” Tony asked as he zoomed in on the newest hologram.

“Short,” Natasha decided, “you can talk my ear off later.”

“It’s a lot of science,” Tony said simply, “but we reinforced her skeletal structure with cybernetic implants,” he pointed to the anomalies on your bones. “Fixed the muscles,” showed your newly enriched muscular system. “And injected new liquid in the veins. To get the blood pumping again.”

Tony was right. It was a lot of science.

“So,” Natasha started, but she wasn’t sure where she was going with it. “Nothing drastic?”

“Most drastic thing is her heart,” Tony said as he zoomed in on the chest of the hologram. “Vibranium shell around an arc reactor.”

“Like you.”

“You know me,” Tony said with a shrug. “Had to leave my mark somehow.”

“But she’s okay?” Natasha asked.

You had admitted time after time that you were okay, but she didn’t believe it. Not after you had panicked and stormed out not even an hour ago. You weren’t okay, but she needed to know your body wouldn’t give up.

She couldn’t handle you dying again.

“She’s okay, Nat,” Tony reassured, and this time he didn’t falter as he reached over and grabbed hers, giving it a squeeze. He may not have been good at comfort, but his own way was more than enough.

“I need to talk to her,” Natasha mumbled, more to herself than to anyone in particular.

She squeezed Tony’s hand once before letting go and making her way out of his lab. There was no telling where you were, but she would find you. If there was one thing Natasha Romanoff was good at, it was finding people who didn’t want to be found.

Until she ran into Maria.

“Romanoff,” Maria said curtly, “you have a new mission.”

“Can it wait?” Natasha asked even though she already knew the answer.

“Shower off and get to the hangar,” Maria continued, not even answering her question. “Take-off is in an hour.”

An hour wasn’t enough time. She couldn’t get to you and talk to you and be in the hangar in an hour. If she went to you, she would delay the mission and get reprimanded. If she went to the hangar, she wouldn’t get to talk to you.

Actually…

Without sparing a second thought, Natasha rushed to the showers and got ready. It wouldn’t take her an hour to get to the hangars, she was nothing if not punctual. But she could relax in the shower for just a minute more than normal, trying to think of how she was going to bring things up to you.

Maybe you would have mercy on her and just understand what she wanted to say.

She made it to the hangar with 15 minutes to spare; more than enough time to tie up a few loose ends. Even though she was suited up and ready, she hadn’t put her phone away yet. After having a family, she learned the value of keeping her phone on her.

The phone rang once, twice, almost three times before being answered.

“Hi, Mrs. Romanoff,” your babysitter, Emily, said. “Everything okay?”

“Just wanted to talk to Mase for a minute.”

“Let me get her, one sec.”

Natasha could hear Emily walking around the house, calling for Mason. She didn’t know why, but the sounds brought a smile to her face. There was just something so domestic, so normal about hearing your babysitter talk with your daughter.

“Momma?”

“Hey, baby,” Natasha said with a smile as she sat down on one of the benches in the hangar. The perfect spot to keep an eye on the entrance and the jet.

“You and mommy are late,” Mason accused, but she didn’t sound genuinely upset.

“I have to stay at work for a bit.”

“But mommy is coming home, right?”

“Of course she is,” Natasha answered quickly, not wanting Mason to worry. Neither you nor Natasha took missions at the same time as the other for this very purpose.

“Okay, good,” Mason said. “Wanna know what I did at school today?” And just like that the conversation turned to Mason’s arts and crafts at school. It was all a bunch of weird stuff, in Natasha’s opinion. They made hand print turkeys, but it wasn’t Thanksgiving. Hell, it wasn’t even fall.

“Nat.”

She looked up to see Steve nodding toward the jet, and Natasha nodded once in confirmation. This part of missions was always the hardest. She was just lucky she had a kid that understood. Well, the best a five year old could.

“It’s time to go, baby,” Natasha said softly.

“Okay, momma,” Mason replied with just a hint of sadness. “Bring home chocolate?”

“I always do,” Natasha chuckled. “I love you, solnyshka.”

“I love you, momma!”

Mason sent a kiss through the phone and Natasha returned it before ending the call and slipping her phone in her bag. She threw it over her shoulder as she made her way to the jet, already getting herself into mission mode. No time for worrying.

You could handle Mason for a few days, right?

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #black widow imagine #natasha romanoff imagine #marvel #marvel x reader #marvel imagine

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tundrainafrica · 4 years ago

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Title: Division of Labor (3/?)

Summary:

“The past years, we have noticed a lot of our fresh high school graduates knew nothing about responsibilities that await them outside high school and even college. Many students do not master budgeting, taxes, household planning, loans and we hope to raise a generation who can navigate the adult world without the consequences of bad decisions they are bound to make going in blindly…”

Paradis High school starts a program incorporating adulting into their curriculum and Hange and Levi are paired together.

Note: From request of @a-golden-hearted-snk-fan. See this link for the request

Other Chapters: 1 2

Link to cross-postings: AO3

It turned out Hange did think the housing plan through.

"It's a rent to own contract...so after paying this certain amount of rent… within a number of years… we can own the house basically," Hange explained. Her preparation was evident in the wad of papers she had carelessly spread out on the table in front of Levi.

At first glance, Levi could not make sense of what those papers were. Eventually, by carefully scanning through the therefore, herewiths, in the events, the interest rates and percentages, Levi figured out they were contracts and manuals full of buying and renting policies of one particular real estate company.

Levi looked out the glass window of the booth of the quiet diner they had chosen to work in. He had tried to use the mechanical movements of the crowds on a commute home to at least help clear his mind enough to make sense of how exactly a rent-to-own contract worked. Levi was sure Hange was at least attempting to explain everything about the buying policies of the real estate company in layman's terms. Although Levi was somewhat impressed by the dedication Hange put into it, as soon as she started to talk about the policies and agreements beyond ‘we get to own the house after a while,’ Levi ended up spacing out. The prospect of spending, even if it was fake money, caused him enough unnecessary stress.

He turned his attention to the two flour sacks who were propped by the window of the diner booth they occupied. He had purposefully turned their ugly faces towards the window at the small possibility that Shadis, Erwin or even Zeke were amongst the crowds of people walking through the crowds and into the subway station. A testament to their determination not to waste any unnecessary funds or worse, flunk the program

"If we catch you in public not holding your baby, you pay babysitting dues or you fail." Shadis had said in homeroom class that morning.

After some discussion as a class and with some confirmation from Erwin, the whole class came to the understanding that if they went out separately, they were in no obligation to take their babies with them. It could always be assumed after all, that their partner had their baby with them. Being in public with their partner meant someone had to have the baby with them or they risk pay necessary dues. At any rate, they found solace in the fact that if they were going to look like idiots holding brown sacks with shabbily drawn faces on them, they at least had someone to look like an idiot with.

Levi looked back at Hange to see that she had not stopped talking. Levi was not too surprised, having the disinterested equivalent of a resting bitch face, he had to master the art of looking like he cared to get past most classes.

“Where did you get these anyway?” Levi asked, interrupting the tirade of his partner. The answer to that question would at least be something he would be able to understand.

“The procedures manual and their company policies are available online.” Hange answered matter-of-factly. Levi noted how quickly she recovered from having her explanation of policy and business jargon interrupted.

As Levi looked once again through highlighted lines and messy scrawls, he felt embarrassed that he was not even halfway done with the design they had discussed the night before. He slowly brought out his folder where he had at least begun to draw the floor plan from the link Hange had sent him the night before.

“How has the floor plan been Levi?” Hange cocked her head to one side. Levi could not tell if she was provoking him or if she was genuinely curious about the progress of his work. Regardless, the way that she sifted through the papers under her, while looking pointedly at the roughly drawn floor plan on his hands had Levi self conscious.

It was Tuesday afternoon, less than 24 hours since she had bombarded him with messages. Less than 24 hours since she dropped a pdf file of the floor plan and went MIA, Levi guessed it was to prepare all the documents which Hange had just laid out in front of him that morning. As he compared his own progress to hers, he also became aware of one more reality, their first outputs were due tomorrow. Begrudgingly Levi had to admit, despite her naivete and overenthusiasm, Hange had a better sense of urgency than he did.

“I planned everything out already. I just need to outline it.” Levi said, trying at least not to sound as defensive as he felt.

“But can you do it alone? I didn’t sleep at all last night to get this done.” Hange looked more concerned than anything else.”

As Levi looked back at a skeleton of a housing plan that lay in front of him, he started to understand her concern. The house they had selected was huge and designing would take hours if he actually wanted to put thought into it.

“I mean even if we take out the 1800 from our budget of 3600 dollars a month, we still have to consider furniture and it might take you a while to come out with the pricing right? I guess we could leave out 1000 dollars for that….”

Furniture? Levi had stopped listening at ‘furniture.’ Somehow Levi had assumed that it would have been fully furnished when they bought it and they just had to rearrange furniture. “We’re buying an unfurnished house?” Levi had hoped Hange was pulling his leg.

Hange knitted her brows in confusion. “Did I say anything about a furnished house?”

Division of Labor

“There are two methods of accounting used in modern day society: cost accounting and accrual accounting or as I’d like to call them: an idiot’s sorry excuse for accounting and actual accounting.” Zeke wrote the two terms on the board and plopped himself on the teacher’s desk. “Really though, why the hell do people still use cost accounting in modern society, it’s fucking stupid, barbaric, might as well go back to bartering…”

Levi had no idea what either of them were. As he looked around at his classmates, they looked as lost as he was about the mini rant that Zeke gave about the two accounting methods he had failed to define.

After a few minutes of ranting, Zeke finally noticed the blank faces of his students. “Okay Social Experiment.” Zeke cocked his head to the side. “Actually, let’s call it an IQ Test. Jean stand up.”

“Yes sir!” Jean followed way too enthusiastically.

“You got the investment banker occupation so ideally you should be the most knowledgeable on money among everyone in the room,” Zeke continued. “You have zero dollars and I gave you 100 dollars right now. How much do you have?”

“100 dollars sir,” Jean answered.

“That’s a smart boy.” Zeke slapped his desk so hard, Armin and Eren jumped, having sat so close to the teacher’s desk. “Okay, so if I lent you 100 dollars, how much do you have?”

“100 dollars.”

“So, you’re gonna run away with my money? No plans of paying me back?”

Jean tensed up in confusion. “No sir. I’ll be paying you back.”

“Then is it your money?"

“It’s with me sir… So I think…” Jean paused for a second. “So it’s your money sir?”

“Tell me. The money is with you after all. Is it your money or my money?”

“It’s my money sir!” Jean answered too quickly, probably without even thinking.

“I lent you the money. I expect it back so it’s mine. Calling my money your money is practically stealing Kirschtein. I can call a lawyer on you.” Zeke narrowed his eyes at Jean for a few seconds before shrugging in defeat. “But you’re not a criminal. You’re just an idiot who relies on outdated accounting methods. Don’t take that with you when you become an actual financial advisor. Sit down. I’m calling someone else.” Zeke turned back to the class list on the teacher’s table. “Okay, anyone in this list with a finance related position...” Zeke’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked through the list. He looked at the class with a cat-like grin, his eyes focusing on one boy in the front row. “In my almost sixteen years of knowing you, I did not expect you to be suitable but it looks like you’re the only one in this list other than Jean with an accounting related occupation.”

“Really? It’s accounting related?” Eren had never been one to be good at Math. Everyone in the class agreed and as their professor hinted at his assigned occupation, many began to whisper, possibly theorizing as to what Eren had gotten.

They did not have to theorize for long though, within seconds, Zeke continued to discuss. “Okay Eren, let’s discuss your field of expertise --- insurance.”

Eren slowly nodded in return. It was a nod which everyone in the room had understood at first glance. Insurance was not Eren’s field of expertise.

Zeke did not seem to care though. “Case study time! I have 3000 dollars. Eren the insurance salesman sells me $200 dollars a month worth of insurance and I buy one years worth of prepaid insurance. By the end of this month, how much worth of assets do I have left?”

“By assets, you mean money?”

“Check a fucking dictionary.”

Eren sat down for a second. From his seat, Levi could hear some whispers from Mikasa and some clicks of a digital keyboard, or possibly a calculator.

“600 dollars.”

“Final answer?”

“Yes. Final Answer.” Eren seemed so sure of his answer.

From seeing Zeke’s face at the answer, Levi could not help but think, maybe phrasing it as a question was the better option for Eren.

“This is why your generation is so shit at saving. With this type of attitude, you‘re all gonna get into some shity Ponzi scheme with yourself and some sad saps who actually pitied you enough to lend you money without assessing your credit rating that’s just gonna continue riding on some endless cycle until you all go to jail or declare bankruptcy.” Zeke ranted again as he punched the buttons of the projector, turning it on. “ Scratch that. At this rate, none of you would probably even know how to declare bankruptcy.”

Accounting 101 . Those two words flashed on the screen, the contrast of black words in a default font to the white background of a hastily made powerpoint only getting clearer as the projector whirred to life.

“The amount of debt you can get into in the real world will fuck up your life. So to simulate the real world consequences of unpaid debt, we decided to make your fake debt by the end of the year one of the main determinants of your final grade. And we will be using real accounting to determine your debt. Any questions before we start?”

It was Sasha who raised her hand from the back of the classroom.

“Yes?” Zeke asked with shoddily hidden annoyance.

“So which one is cost and which one is accrual again, Sir?”

Division of Labor

"I told you. I'll handle the accounting," Hange said. "We can make this work." Her words were not at all assuring.

It was Wednesday afternoon. They had submitted their selection for their house that afternoon in class so that meant no more takebacks. Their house plans were due midnight and Levi was not even halfway done. To add insult to injury, Levi was still reeling from Zeke’s lecture just a few hours ago.

Initially, Hange had suggested they buy the furniture in installments. The prospect of buying in installments though became all the more terrifying with the accounting system Zeke had introduced to them that day and the weight of a negative balance sheet on their grades.

As soon as you buy something and enter into debt, the money owed is not yours anymore. Levi shuddered as those words echoed in his head. He narrowed his eyes at Hange. "Really Hange? Can we? After deciding to spend half your salary each month on an unfinished 3 bedroom house?" Levi asked as he gestured to their next tall order that stretched over two aisles. They were in the baby's section in the supermarket.

It was their third round around that aisle, trying to look for a brand of diaper and a brand of formula that would not cost them a total of 400 dollars a month.

“I mean, we still have 800 dollars on groceries if we put our furniture installments budget at 1000 dollars a month,” Hange explained. “So if we spend 400 dollars on baby stuff, we should have 400 left.”

“400 dollars for a month’s worth of meals for a family of four.” Levi clarified. “There must be something here we could choose not to spend on.” Or maybe we could find a cheaper place to buy things in. Levi thought back to the supermarket nearer to his house and made a mental note to check it. The output was due on Friday anyway.

"Hey, Armin and Annie are here too!" Hange said enthusiastically.

Too enthusiastically. Levi clarified to himself. That was not at all good news. If other groups were going to that supermarket, that must mean they think they have the financial leeway to spend there, That could also possibly mean he and Hange had somehow fucked up financially as a pair, struggling to make ends meet. Armin was a studious student with a good head on his shoulders and he chose to shop in a more expensive supermarket. Are we spending too much?

"Let's ask Armin…" Levi did not need to finish his sentence. By the time, he looked to his side, where Hange stood or at least was supposed to be standing, the latter was already on her way to the blond boy..

Levi did not waste anytime. As Hange chatted up Armin, Levi made a few rounds through the two aisles again, his phone calculator on hand.

Just in case. Levi told himself. Just in case they had miscalculated the minimum expense of 400 dollars.

Division of Labor

Hange had a long talk with Armin. By that point, Levi had lost count of the number of rounds he had made around the aisle. He had stopped counting at five. He had done his research on discounts and made some fake accounts and the expense still clocked at $390 dollars.

By the time he and Hange called it quits, the sun was setting. Hange seemed lost in thought and she had been that way since she had finished her conversation with Armin. Levi decided to take over keeping both sacks for the night. He made a small detour to the grocery store nearest to his flat. It was smaller, a little dirtier but it meant a little more room for spending and a bigger chance of saving his grade and graduating. Begrudgingly, sanitation became the least of Levi's issues.

He wrote out all the prices of the important items they had seen in the grocery store. When he got home, he made sure to write them all on a google sheet complete with weight, quantity and prices and sent the link to Hange through an instant message. For some reason, he felt a twinge of disappointment when all he received was a heart react in return.

Of course, Hange still had a lot of things to calculate. Even as they separated less than an hour ago, she had seemed distracted. Levi guessed Armin had told her something game breaking about the accounting process.

What did Armin tell you? You need any help?

Will explain soon. Send the meal plan and house design by 9 pls.

Levi managed to submit the meal plan by nine. He had copied and pasted from some random family cooking website, changing a few ingredients to fit what he thought would be cheaper options. He did not need to think too much of it either. He lived a life many would consider the complete opposite of excess and as a result, had mastered the art of improvisation when it came to food.

His main problem lay with the floor plan of the house. Hange had agreed to handle worrying about the expenses. That was one problem out of his plate.

Even with the money problem out of his hands, Levi found himself working until late anyway. Or not working… Levi was only reminded of his lack of productivity when his phone lit up with a notification.

11:00pm

Hange Zoe

Where??????

Levi only realized then that he had gotten a little carried away with the problem of where to put the washing machine.

Division of Labor

It was a genius idea.

That Wednesday night, only a few hours before the house plan was due, Levi had had fifty tabs open from German and Japanese house designers showing bathrooms and laundry room designs highlighting the novelty and practicality of putting the washing machine in the bathroom. Levi had spent hours pondering the logistics of making it work for the house design Hange had sent him only for her to shoot down the idea an hour before the housing plan was due.

They rented an American style house with a bathroom in every bedroom and the impracticality had dawned on him particularly when it was fifteen minutes to 12am and they were still arguing in chat over how to design the house. In the end, Hange had gotten her way, having brought up the issue of accounting furniture and the fact that they probably did not even have the financial leeway to pay for a washing machine anyway.

Having to deal with the disappointment of losing the opportunity to design the house the way he wanted to and having his unfinished design shipped off to Erwin’s email, with little regard for the effort he had put into the intricacy of both the toilets and the laundry room, Levi was a little pissed. He also considered the fact that he had respected the effort and detail Hange had put into choosing a house and had allowed her to submit a potentially overpriced and unfurnished house as their final product.

And she could not even reciprocate the respect for his whims.

Levi decided then to take a break from it all. It was a silent agreement on both ends. Or there was no need for an agreement anyway. They had finished their deliverables for the week by Thursday.

Everyone had ended up cramming theirs anyway and Levi found himself walking home alone and spending his time outside school hours bingeing whatever was new on Netflix.

By Monday, Levi had not expected to do much. Their breakdown of responsibilities was due Friday, 12am on Thursday to be exact according to the file that Erwin had sent. It was a one page paper with a few questions that just needed answering. They could easily start on Tuesday or Wednesday.

Levi wanted to spend at least just his Monday, peacefully, not considering the program which has been plaguing the start of their junior year since Shadis’ announcement just a week ago. He allowed himself to clear his mind, making sure to just note on his phone to start on the next output by Wednesday. Hange would probably remind him anyway.

He had deluded himself well into thinking the adulting program was limited to those once a week outputs. An announcement was made to meet in the kitchen after lunch for home economics class. His mood that Monday had him living in complete denial of what could actually go on in a school kitchen and for some reason, Levi imagined having a lecture in the kitchen was a completely normal expectation, even with the reminder to bring aprons and gloves. Maybe we just need to put them in lockers or something.

As the students filed in though, some of them panicked and that was when Levi figured out that something was not right. The counters were all lined up with ingredients. Some of the students had recognized the ingredients. Levi looked to Hange to see that she was blank on what the hell the pattern was behind the types of ingredients set out.

There were the essentials--- flour, sugar, eggs. There were exotic ingredients Levi could not even name or pronounce.

“Cardamom, Star Anise, Rose water. What the hell?” It was Jean speaking from behind Levi.

“I’m glad you see the pattern. I’m assuming that means you’ll all do well?” Erwin waited while the rest of the class filed into the room before he raised his voice loud enough for everyone to hear. “Today we’ll be having a pop quiz just to make sure you all know what you’re writing when you make the meal plans. In the tables assigned to you, you will see the ingredients for one of the meals you put in your meal plan. Please use them accordingly to make a full course meal from what you had submitted.”

Levi could not remember for the life of him what the hell he had put in that meal plan a week back

#levihan #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hange #fanfic

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marmolady · 4 years ago

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The New Taylor: Part 1

READ PART 2 HERE

Book/Series: Endless Summer

Main Pairings: Estela x MC

Summary: (Endless Ending). Saving the world takes a lot out of a person. For Taylor, growing into her new self beyond La Huerta can only happen as fast as her exhausted body will allow her....

Word Count: 5541

Tagging: @saivilo, @edgydepressedchoicesthot, @sceptilemasterr, @greengroove

______

The light of the rising sun filtered through the thin curtains of Estela’s childhood bedroom, gently rousing Taylor from her slumber. She grumbled softly, nuzzling deeper into the pillow, and snuggling into her wife’s chest and belly. Somehow, she could just never get enough sleep. It was as if her body’s batteries were still relearning the art of recharging, some three?-- four now, weeks after Vaanu’s energy departed her. In exchange for looking forward to a lifetime of waking up in Estela’s arms, a little tiredness was a small price to pay.Some days, though, it felt like an insurmountable hurdle.

Full lips brushed Taylor’s cheek and jaw, whispers of kisses. How could she not smile? Her eyes opened to that beautiful, scarred face. “Mm… morning, babe.”

Estela beamed. It was hard not to when she had her arms around a miracle. Back home with her tio, the promise of a happy future was tangible, a hope that she could just about believe in.

“Good morning, hermosa.” She nibbled the lobe of Taylor’s ear. “Did you sleep better?”

Taylor yawned noisily, and took her time stretching out her body, enjoying the press of her back against her lover.

“Better, yeah.”

Nightmares had been an ongoing problem for Taylor for about as long as she could remember. Every now and then she’d have stretches where she couldn’t even seem to close her eyes without being bombarded. Images of her friends’ deaths… dying in a thousand different ways. The worst, though, the worst by far, was a memory of her own; Estela’s eyes going dull as she took a last, rattling breath, Taylor cradling her in blood-soaked arms. It haunted her in sleep; the feel of blood on her hands so horrifyingly real, usually waking her with a violent shiver up her spine.

“Mmmm…” she turned to press a kiss to Estela’s lips. “I’ll take every good night of sleep I can get. You sleep okay?”

Estela’s face was soft with affection. Her own nights’ sleep had been badly impacted by the traumatic period of Taylor’s recovery from Vaanu’s leaving her. After seeing the love of her life stop breathing again and again… letting go of the fear wasn’t something that came easy, and it made for restless nights.

“I think I made it the whole night. We might just be through the worst of it. I guess you’re not gonna die on me in the middle of the night after all.”

“Like I keep saying; you are stuck with me, Estela Montoya. No way you’re shaking me now.”

With a happy squirm, Estela squeezed Taylor from behind. “Nope-- you’re all mine.” She placed a big smooch on her wife’s rosy cheek. “Come on; I can smell breakfast cooking!”

________________________

Several weeks in, San Trobida remained a brand new world for Taylor. It was to some relief when it quickly became apparent that she didn’t especially stand out and draw attention. She slowly got to grips with her place in a world beyond La Huerta, and no one seemed to pay her much notice. Estela had told her, with a laugh, that San Trobidans were not an especially chatty people, and that this shouldn’t come as a surprise. One might expect a polite smile of greeting, but the general population were about as likely to strike up small talk as Estela was-- which was to say, not very.

Initially, Estela had been stuck to Taylor as if by glue, letting her presence be a safety net as her wife grappled with her identity in what was an often overwhelming environment. And it hadn’t just been for Taylor’s benefit. Reunited with her uncle in a post-war San Trobida, her beloved partner by her side, it seemed inevitable to Estela that the other shoe had to drop at some point. Life wasn’t this easy. It just wasn’t. Every other time she’d believed that the struggle was over, she’d been hit with another wallop to the gut. Trusting in ‘happily ever after’ wasn’t something she could turn on like a switch.

But everything hadn’t gone crashing down in flames. Nicolas had welcomed Taylor-- and Jake, for that matter-- enthusiastically into the family. Even for the short years she’d been away, Estela found a San Trobida flourishing without the choke-hold of oppression that she’d always expected to be there. Jake had hit the ground running, having already interviewed for positions with two local airlines to charter tourists-- the thought of tourists coming to San Trobida was staggering in itself. Estela had offered her services to do odd jobs for old acquaintances; something she’d done many years before, when her mother had still been around to prevent her from getting involved in the war. The vast majority of her uncle’s friends had been connected to the rebellion in some way or another, and standoffish as most were, they welcomed her earnest insistence on being useful. Everything around her spoke of recovery, and Estela found herself beginning to believe that she and Taylor were on their way too.

Taylor often accompanied her wife on these errands, taking every opportunity to soak up the essence of San Trobidan life, to make it a part of herself. She was met predominantly with wary looks and grunts, and soon worked out that it wasn’t worth taking such reactions to heart. Today, though, she was striking out on her own. If she was going to come into her own as a ‘new Taylor’, the fully-realised human being that even Vaanu themselves could not have imagined of her, she had to give herself a chance to grow.

“You have the bus timetables on your phone, right?” Estela asked, taking a moment to give her wife’s fingers a squeeze. “It’s still probably best if you don’t go into the city on your own, but you pretty much know your way to the closer towns anyway. And you can call me…”

“...at any time.” Taylor returned the squeeze. “Always.”

Estela blushed. “Yeah… that. Just, be careful. If you’re feeling tired, call. I can drop everything in a moment, but I need you to be safe.”

Whether Taylor’s batteries ever properly recharged these days, was something debatable. Even the simplest activities would knock the stuffing out of her. Walks along the beach were kept short. Afternoon naps were now something of a fact of life. Sex was slow and gentle. It was damn near driving Taylor crazy, and all she could do was tell herself that it would get better, that her lack of energy was a tiny price for the miracle of her continued presence on earth.

She took Estela’s face in her hands and kissed her sweetly. “I’ll be careful, okay? I know my limits.”

The bus ride up into the hills east of Estela’s home was a scenic one, and a trip that Taylor had now taken a couple of times during her solo explorations, as well as once, of course, with Estela. Passing agricultural plantations-- cassava, banana and sugar cane, she’d been told-- the surrounding vegetation became denser as the road carried on to the next town. Taylor hopped off at the next stop; if she was feeling up to it, there wouldn’t be too much of a trek back down the hill to the bay off which the Montoya house stood. With that in mind, she kept her ambling around town to a slow pace, and coffee in hand, soon took to the walking trails through the surrounding forest.

Almost certainly as a result of feeling so at home in the wilderness of La Huerta, it was in nature that Taylor felt she was at her best-- it had always been on hikes through the jungle or along the coast that she could really get lost in thought and ponder the big questions. Now, though, her body just couldn’t seem to keep up with her mental needs. When she sat down upon the forest floor for a breather-- surely after not even a quarter of an hour of walking-- her legs were like jelly.

Goddammit.

Frustrated, Taylor distracted herself by taking a picture of an odd flower. She’d been collecting snaps of just about anything in nature she came across that stood out as different to what she was used to on La Huerta. If Estela or Nicolas couldn’t identify it, she’d hit their old handbook of San Trobidan botany. It was a small hobby to keep her occupied; at least she could keep on learning even if she was usually too tired to do a lot physically. She’d also taken up knitting-- though she had a way to go before she’d really got the hang of it. Besides poring over books and keeping up a barrage of questions about life here, there was not a whole lot else for her to do. She’d had a couple of driving lessons, but like everything else, they had to be kept short. She’d usually go along with Estela when she was running errands, but if she wasn’t painfully aware of how weak and vulnerable she presently was, getting a good view of her wife’s vigour and strength did nothing to make her feel any better. Of course, there wasn’t a hint of judgement-- but Taylor was so often left feeling useless and unattractive. Estela had fallen for an energetic woman who had taken life by the horns, and right now, it felt like that woman didn’t exist.

She took her time to recover; sending a couple of pictures to Diego who’d been getting an almost blow-by-blow account of her new life in San Trobida, and doing a few easy stretches. Estela was convinced that working on core strength was the best way forward for Taylor’s rehabilitation; once her body was stronger, then they’d work on cardio and stamina.

Limbered up, Taylor walked back to the bus stop. Dearly as she’d wanted to make the trek home, something that just a couple of months ago would have been a piece of cake, she was not fool enough to think it might happen today. Getting off the bus a couple of stops before home was the compromise she’d have to live with for the time being. She plugged in her earphones and watched the world go by-- listening to a soundtrack she’d inherited as a mish-mash of her friends’ tastes. When she hopped off the bus, that beat kept her putting one foot in front of the other, a steady rhythm. From the footpath by the road up the hill, she could already see an easy route home; the sparkling sea providing a beautiful backdrop that she’d never have fully appreciated through a window. She could feel her body flagging with every step, but it was worth it.

You got this, Taylor. All downhill from here.

As Taylor turned the last corner toward home, her legs shaking, a small figure skittered out across the road and towards the beach. A small sickly-looking dog. Strays were not uncommon near the towns and beaches; Estela had said there used to be many more around the place, that with the war over there was more scope for focus on animal welfare. The fact that this one looked like a strong gust of wind could finish it off spurred her.

Well, I guess I can make a slight detour.

She hastily tucked away her earphones and crossed the street, whistling. Most of the dogs that showed up were seasoned beggars with no qualms about approaching humans. Chances were, this little one would come running. Huffing and puffing her way slowly to the beachside village, she found the dog trundling along the behind the now-closed bar. On a longer look, Taylor noticed that its forelegs were oddly bent, facing in opposite directions as it loped, and the scruffiness that had caught her eye was down to great patches of hair loss that accentuated a thin frame.

Poor little fella…. She gave a low whistle and crouched. “Hey, l’il guy… uh, girl actually. Hey, l’il girl. You must be hungry….”

The dog looked around, eyes wary, as Taylor wobbled precariously. It gave a small but gruff bark, and moved further away. Taylor huffed; if the animal didn’t clearly need a vet, she’d have left it be. After her walk down from the bus stop, her head was spinning and she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to keep putting one foot in front of the other. Maybe… maybe she should just come back for the tiny dog later. Then, as Taylor made to get up, she stumbled and fell.

Fuck.

Suddenly, it seemed pretty clear that the mangy little dog was not the one in most immediate physical peril. Taylor gave a weak yell and kicked out the dirt. To her alarm, her vision blurred horribly, and she went from ‘a little bit weak’ to ‘I could faint right here’ dizzy in frightening speed.

Okay, head between your legs. Deep breaths… deep….

The world swam. Taylor could just about make out the dog barking in the distance… then all went black.

_____________________

Taylor woke slowly, her head aching. The room around her seemed to spin, and it took several long moments before she recognised it as Estela’s bedroom. Propped up at the head of the bed, she’d clearly been brought home by someone after…. Crap, what happened?

“There is water for you on the bedside table,” came the sharp voice of Nicolas Montoya.

“W-what happened? I fainted? I think I… fainted.”

“Thankfully you were found by someone who recognised you as a guest of mine. Now, sit up slowly and take small sips of water. Estelita will be home soon-- I would much prefer she is not coming home to her idiot wife looking like death warmed up.”

Her lips dry, Taylor swallowed, still trying to catch her brain up with whatever had just happened. She’d been chasing after a stray dog, and then…. God, Estela was gonna freak. She mumbled a ‘thank you’ for the water, for the apparent rescue, and tried to hold off from shuddering at the bitter disappointment in her uncle-in-law’s voice. He was pissed. A strong part of Taylor was indignant; she wasn’t a fool, but this was new.

“Drink.”

There was no arguing with that tone. Taylor took a sip, then another. She tried to think. She’d been out walking and… her body had just given out on her. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t known she was exhausted, but….

“It happened so fast. I was on my way home, and I was tired, and then I just… crashed. Where’s Estela--? Does she know I’m okay--?”

“I didn’t take you for a dumbass--”

Anger flared in Taylor’s gut. That was not fair. “Hey-- I passed out. I’m not stupid, I just--”

“No? You are ill, wandering around defenseless… by your own choice, no? Knowing that your wife would drop everything to get you home when you are clearly incapacitated. I give you some credit; I assume you know this is not the safest corner of the world? It seems like you are a maldito idiota to me!”

Taylor could feel her whole body trembling uncontrollably. “You can try, but you’re not gonna make me feel any worse than I already do. I made a bad call, and I’m paying for it. I don’t expect you to trust me; but I learned a fucking hard lesson today.”

Nicolas turned away, seething.

“If I thought it was a risk, I wouldn’t have done it. I would never put Estela through that kind of worry. Not again.”

“Well, we are fortunate indeed it wasn’t she who found you collapsed in the dirt.” Nicolas’ eyes flashed as he looked back over his shoulder at Taylor. “Do you have any idea--”

A creaking signaled the front door swinging open. There was a pounding of frantic footsteps on hardwood floor and then….

“Taylor!”

Estela rushed in, falling to her knees beside the bed where Taylor was propped up.

“’Stel…” Taylor’s eyes welled as both relief and shame washed over her all at once. I’m so sorry.

“¡Dios! Me asustaste hasta la muerte! What were you thinking? It’s okay, just… just let me look at you….”

The tone of panic and the tears rolling down Estela’s cheeks made Taylor’s heart sink down to her toes. This was the last thing she’d wanted.

Nicolas scowled. “Well, she’s in safe hands now. Estelita, I will be in the office if you need anything.”

“Thanks, Tio.” Estela did not turn as her uncle walked away; she had eyes only for Taylor. Tentatively, she climbed up onto the bed, settling down gently beside her wife.

“I really thought I had more stamina than tha--”

“Shh.” Estela put a finger to Taylor’s lips. “Let me check you over.”

Too exhausted to struggle, Taylor leaned back against the head of the bed, letting Estela inspect her for any signs of physical distress. She remained quiet, feeling the tension that hung between them, tension that shouldn’t be there.

Finally, Estela sighed, her dark eyes forlorn. “Looks like no harm done. You got lucky. But you can’t just push your luck like that. I can’t believe you’d just--”

“It was an honest mistake. Part of being human, or at least that’s what I’m told.”

“It was a stupid mistake!”

It was as though an icy bucket of water had been dropped on Taylor’s head. Estela wasn’t just hurt, she was… angry?

“Hey! I have been lectured enough by your uncle, and I am not gonna take it from you. I know you’re scared, but this is new to me. I’m still working out my limits.”

Estela winced, immediately looking ashamed for snapping. She curled up her knees to her chest and stared straight ahead. For a long while, she sat that way, unmoving.

Taylor watched her wife with concern. Where was she? Reliving the long nights in the Elyys’tel medical centre, a hair’s breadth from losing her partner forever? Or was she even further away; remembering the shattering impact of loss and fearing it touching again?

“Taylor,” Estela said hoarsely, “I can’t… I won’t lose you.”

“No. You won’t.”

“So, don’t do that to me again.That was irresponsible and dumb, and that… that wasn’t fair.”

Hurt, Taylor tried hard not to pout. She wasn’t doing this on purpose; surely Estela knew that?

“We both know that you can’t look me in the eye and tell me that you’ve never overestimated what you were capable of. I made a mistake, okay?”

Estela’s nostrils flared. It was difficult to argue with that. Sometime in the future, when he’d cooled off, her tio would no doubt laugh at the thought of her having a taste of all the worry she put him through. “Look, it might seem peaceful here, but beneath the surface, things are still broken. This is not a place that’s forgiving of stupid mistakes. If anything happened to you now, I-- I think it would kill me.”

“I know, ‘Stel. And I was being careful. I thought I was being careful enough…”

As she looked into Taylor’s face, Estela’s expression gradually softened. This sucked. It really sucked. But that wasn’t down to Taylor. She was scared too. Gently, Estela reached out a hand and stroked her wife’s cheek. “You’re safe now. That’s what matters.”

Pressing a tender kiss to Estela’s wrist, Taylor felt herself relax. They were okay. Both kind of freaked out, but they were freaked out together.

“It’s like I don’t know my own body anymore. I feel absolutely useless; I can’t even trust myself, not after what just happened. It’s… kinda shit. ”

Estela huffed knowingly, and stroked Taylor’s hair. “It’s a lot shit. I’m sorry for taking it out on you. The last thing you need is to be stressing out ‘cause I’m being an asshole.”

“You? Never. You’ve had to be scared for so long; you’d have to be a robot if you kept it together all the time.”

“Hmm. Well, if I’ve gotta let off steam, that’s what a punching bag is for. I don’t wanna hurt you. Not ever.” Estela stroked her calloused fingers through Taylor’s hair. It helped to calm the both of them.“Did Tio really chew you out? If he thinks he can lecture you--”

Taylor laughed dryly. “Nothing I can’t handle. It… kinda sucks that he thinks I’m a complete idiot, but I’ll work on that.”

The hurt, though, could not be hidden.

“Carińa, you have nothing to prove. When Tio gets protective he can be… well, pretty damn unpleasant.” Estela sighed softly. “When I found out Mom was dead, it… it’s hard to explain how bad it was. I was unreachable. And obviously it took a long, long time for me to even be close to the person I was before. I think when he found you like that, he must have had a moment when he thought it was happening again. It doesn’t excuse him being an ass to you, but you should know it’s not your fault. You’re not what’s wrong here. Jesus, you’re the opposite of what’s wrong. Okay?”

Taylor found her wife’s hand and squeezed. “I know.” For a little while, she was quiet, just taking comfort in Estela… her being there, her touch. That love was a privilege. “Your tio just… absolutely loves you to pieces. Like you’re his everything. For him to feel as though he’d lost you; it must have been something like torture.”

Her eyes closed, Estela breathed deeply against Taylor’s head, soothed by the scent of her hair. She’d let go of the guilt, but profound sadness lingered. The years since her mother’s death had been little but immeasurable pain for Nicolas, making even the triumphant rebellion hollow.

“I could never thank him enough. No matter what, he supported me, he had my back. Even when I was stuck on a mission that would take away the last person he loved.” She found herself enveloped in a hug, Taylor gently bringing her to her chest and cradling her head there. “I love him. More than I can say. More than I think I’ll ever work out how to show him. But I think… he knows. We’ve been through too much for him not to. I know I fought it; I didn’t wanna risk you even if it meant the world… but he gets to heal now. With me.” Estela looked up, pink dusting her cheeks as she looked into Taylor’s shimmering blue eyes. “You did that. And there’s nothing that anyone could ever give to compare to that. You’re my hero.”

Taylor found herself sniffing, faced with shining sincerity. She didn’t feel like a hero, but for as long as Estela needed her to be that person, she’d try to live up to it. “You’re mine.”

“So, mi querida, it’s gonna be okay.” Estela pulled herself up, so that Taylor could lean on her in turn. “How are you feeling?”

“Actually, not so bad. Like, I desperately needed rest, but at least I seem to be able to bounce back pretty well.”

Estela sighed thoughtfully. The ordeal had been a fright, but it looked like no harm had been done. “You should tell Michelle what happened. She’ll want to know.”

It was hard for Taylor not to groan at the thought of causing even more worry, but she nodded her agreement. Ever since Vaanu left her, she’d been nothing but a burden.

“Actually, what did happen? Tio said you were passed out on the beach-- I thought you were going up into the hills.”

“I did. And I was all pumped up to trek back down from the town--,” Catching a horrified look, Taylor couldn’t help but chuckle. “--cool your jets; you know I’m not that stubborn. I realised pretty quickly that my ambitions were way too high. So, I got off the bus a little ways before our stop, and I walked it. I did it. I mean, it knocked the stuffing out of me, but I did it.”

“...And then, something possessed you to take a stroll along the beach?”

Taylor felt her cheeks flush. Okay, this was the part where I get a little foolish. “There was this little stray dog. Tiny thing, and it looked so sickly. Apparently, the bleeding heart in me jumped out, and then I was on a mission. I think the thought of actually helping someone, and not just being this weak, lost little person just… just sparked something in me. Pretty sure the adrenaline just from that got me to the beach, because when I stopped moving, the fatigue hit me like a train.”

A little smile came to Estela’s face, and it made Taylor blush all the more.

“I know, I know, apparently I’ve got myself a hero complex. Maybe a little bit stupid, but my heart’s in the right place?”

Estela just laughed and held her wife even tighter. “How am I meant to argue with that? One pig-headed crusader to another; it’s not the worst thing you can be. I love you, Taylor.”

Taylor closed her eyes, breathing in the familiarity, the comfort, that came of having Estela so near. Her whole world, her everything. All that she had to give in return was so… small. Helpless and small.

“Hey…,” Estela said gently. “It is going to be okay. I know you’re all right physically, but… you’re sad.”

“I thought I was getting better. I don’t want to be a damsel in distress for the rest of my life. It’s not as if I even know who I am now, but that ain’t it.”

Estela tenderly kissed Taylor’s brow, her own furrowed with concern. “You are getting better. I know it doesn’t feel like it, but from where you came from, this now is amazing. You’re stronger even than just last week. However long it takes, I’ll be there with you. You know, ready to give you a fireman-carry to safety.”

“I guess there’s gotta be some perks to being a damsel in distress. I can’t deny it; that would be kinda hot.”

“Kinda?”

“A lot. A lot hot. I’m sorry, have you seen your arms?”

To Taylor’s relief, the atmosphere had shifted; Estela waggled her eyebrows and giggled, eliciting a weak but grateful smile.

“You’ll be back to kicking ass in no time. If it helps, we can focus more on your physical training-- at least once you’ve recovered from this little, uh, episode. But, um, that little dog you found….”

“If we can find it, I really want to help. Maybe there’s the selfish aspect of me wanting to feel capable of being at least a little bit helpful to someone, but I want to get it fixed up. It-- I think it was a girl-- looked pretty bad.”

“I always wanted to bring home strays when I was little; Tio Nicolas thought he had enough responsibility with a kid around the place, so that was never gonna happen. I’m sure he won’t mind another guest, now. Or at least, he wouldn’t say no. Do you want to get a dog, mi amor?”

“It hadn’t actually crossed my mind what we’d do with her once we brought her home and got her healthy, but… yeah. I think I’d like to have a dog.” Despite all her worries, all her fears, all her shame, Taylor couldn’t stop the small smile that lit her features. If she could somehow claw her way back to a semblance of her old self, what lay ahead looked amazing. “Look at us, ‘Stel; already growing our family.”

A giddy grin plastered across Estela’s face served to sweep Taylor back up into her own insecurities; those voiced and those yet hidden. This was supposed to be their happy ending; after everything her lover had been through, it was all Taylor wanted to make it happen. But now… was she even enough?

This might be as good as it gets. Can you really expect her to be there to catch you when you just can’t stop falling?

Estela stood up and stretched, but gave Taylor a look when she made to follow suit.“We’re not going anywhere until you’re properly rested. I’ll make you some lunch. But then, we’ll see if we can help out your little friend. What do you think?”

Taylor frowned.

What do I think?

I think… I’m scared I’m going to hold you back, when you’re capable of so much.

I’m scared your uncle’s only ever gonna see me as another burden for you to carry.

I’m scared you’re gonna wake up one day and realise I’m not the same person you fell in love with.

She swallowed hard. There was so much love in Estela’s dark eyes, and it was shining there just for her.

I won’t stop fighting to be what you deserve. We’re so close to happy ever after, and I won’t let you down now.

“I think I’ll be up to that. We’ve got saving the world under our belt; rescuing a stray dog is gonna be a cakewalk. Let’s do this.”

#endless summer #playchoices #estela x mc #estela montoya

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meandmyechoes · 4 years ago

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Something I wrote May 8th, 2020 02:44 about Rebels that I forgot to publish. But actually contain a lot of context for how I feel about reusing Ahsoka in general. I formally apologize for every ill will I had for Rebels Ahsoka’s design.

hot take: I don’t like Rebelsoka. Yeah, as if you can sum up my opinion like that.

Why I don’t like her is a really petty and subjective bias, so I am not being fair. The real problem I have with Rebelsoka was mostly my personal lack of enthusiasm in her art style and early on her role was... replaceable. Her unique place is as an ex-Jedi, which is why I’m glad and more accepting when they turn her story away from the Rebellion to focus on Jedi Business. Her early lines in Rebels was... delivering information that could easily been given to another rebellion officer. And it felt off to switch from that unsure teenager to this full-blown wise mentor.

With everything, the final verdict is of course, Rebelsoka is amazing. In the end the potential outweighs my complaints. Yeah, information feeder, cryptic vocabularies or poor cosmetic choices can be forgive in exchange for awesome duels, delightful mentoring and GOSH THAT ANGSTY “ANAKIN”. not that i hope we see more ahsoka stories but i hope we see more ahsoka stories you know. more than that 45 minutes of it ◔̯◔

As a TCW traditionalist, of course that was my definition of Star Wars. Bitter of replacement was a common feeling in the year 2015, but I’m also reasonable enough to expect a major stylistic change with Disney’s acquisition. So all in all, I am glad we at least have another show instead of none at all.

Even though I dropped out, I was there for Rebels in the beginning. If nothing, I learnt from Clone Wars not to underestimate a Season 1. Yes, no one from the Ghost crew captivated me the way Ahsoka did, but I liked them all equally. It was an enjoyable show when I judged it as an exposition and sanely do not compare it to the finale that Clone Wars was building. So Ahsoka coming back at the end of Season 1 really put me in a difficult place, when I thought I could move on to this new family, having accepted her departure.There were rumours, but I kinda expected her to set off the S2 premiere instead. I was also spoiled of that very last minute of revelation. Anyway, when she came back, and I heard Ashley’s voice, I just broke into tears. It’s literally a resurrection. I also couldn’t believe, that I actually get to see Ahsoka again in my life, and that she is suddenly so mature and wise.

It was difficult for me to adjust for two reasons: the art style and her maturity. I guess now I could put myself next to Anakin in 709 describing how I felt meeting Ahsoka again. I also really hated her art style in Rebels initially. She was... streamlined? had slick skin, but her lekku stripes are jagged, and i never get to see how her lekku grew into the shape they are now. and her whole facial patterns are different too?? and she actually doesn’t have clear sky blue eyes anymore? but somehow has deep purple eyes? and just all around no-no with the art style when it first came out. The style wasn’t an issue when you don’t have the my favourite as a veteran character for comparison. (say you don’t see me complaining about Hondo that much but didn’t they do him dirty) Even though I had no problem with her outfit or headdress, it’s just not my favourite of hers. and the fact that they’re forcing me to watch a cartoon character lined with age! and how tired she looks, with wrinkles! and pouches under her eyes! don’t do this to my poor daughter! let her stay happy and carefree as a 14-year-old 5ever! (18-year-old me holding an angry PTA sign)

It also closed a book on however I want her to be. stupid war in the stars making me accept canon. I would’ve been content with her just leaving and staying alive, when every fan set out on her dying before RotS. Yeah maybe she threw her entire ‘life’ away but at least, she’s not, dead you know. And seeing her thrown into another war, threw herself into another war, I wan’t sure I could handle that. The grief, the guilt, the regret, the sight of not seeing her standing by her family again. (good lord Filoni gave us the Rex and Ahsoka hug ;_;) I just want her to stay happy and carefree in my head okay?

and that constant battle of wanting to see more of your favourite character but also level enough to not want her to steal the spotlight form a promising new cast? and the lowkey distrust towards Disney that they brought in Ahsoka to trick more audience into a less-popular show? as a fake-ass apology? Are you suppose I’m ever gonna forgive you for cancelling Clone Wars even though you brought back its characters and basically made a TCW sequel? Are you asking me to overlook the damage, done to both TCW veteran characters AND Rebel’s originality if you don’t do it right? And when they really don’t give us much Ahsoka mid-season it was kind of.... *deflating high-to-low 7-note crescendo* If Disney is actually giving us “what the fans want”, it’s because we damn well deserve that apology without ever needing to forgive, less alone thank.

So anyway, I did dropped out of Rebels after the Season 2 finale. A bit of real world reasons too because I was getting busy in college and I have Rider, an all-year-round show to fall back on. So i just totally turned away from Star Wars in general after March 2016 where it was dead dead for Clone Wars. I caught up a bit of S3 but never finished it, and I’ve been on and off trying to do it to recover from TLJ but it didn’t feel enough (+ plus real busy irl)

I only even found out Ahsoka the White on social media and was utterly confused. Not sure if it was the best decision creative-wise then, and frankly hand’t given much thought since. But I definitely don’t mind Ahsoka Not Dying. I think I have more questions directed to this girl in person on her life and fashion and spaceship choices more than anything. You just sort of reached a point where like god let them rest.

I only wrapped up the series before I saw Walkabout. And there was like a 3-month gap since I started rewtaching late January after ep9. But I ran through the last season in 2, 3 days? It was really good. I didn’t expect it focus on just one planet, but the plot was good, even though the primary enforcer villain monkey just looks meh. Somehow strangely, the character I grew attached to is Kallus. You know, he is not in the main cast whatsoever so he really may not die? And the whole time as the finale draws closer I just was on the edge of my seat hoping none of my faves die. (Yeah the only mistake that finale made was sacrificing Gregor. not nice Dave.)

And the epilogue was amazing. The resolution again subverts expectation in a good way and gave us what’s plausible but not expected. And I love how the show actually balanced warfare and lore. The mythological episodes border on fantasy fairy tales but it still suits my taste. The balance is actually better done here than on Clone Wars. In a show titled Clone Wars, you kind of expect it to be about Clones and Wars. But Rebels connected the spiritual journey of the characters to the wider warfare. They needed the Force to train and guide them to their victory. And this prominence of the Force as a plot element and narrative influence is something I found missing in the later seasons of the Clone Wars (6 not withstanding).

The show made me genuinely escalates in loving these characters and gave us a well-rounded, complete Star Wars experience. It’s not my favourite, but it’s definitely a good show.

#tcw reviews #myechoes #why am i defending myself over nothing #this is a bit long and could be counted as meta but is actually devoid of reading of the text lol #ahsoka tano #star wars

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buckybarnesbingo · 4 years ago

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BBB Week 10 Roundup!

We’re getting closer to our first round of handing out badges! We are keeping track of fills on our spreadsheets, and that is why it’s so important for you to add your fill information for every fill you post, everywhere you post it.

For a refresher, this is what we need every time.

Title: Collaborator(s): Link (AO3, Tumblr, Pillowfort, Dreamwidth, DeviantArt, etc.): Square Filled (Letter AND Number AND Prompt): Ship/Main Pairing: Rating (Gen, Teen, Mature, Explicit): Major Tags/Triggers: Summary: Word Count (if applicable):

The Tumblr mod gets reeeeeeally annoyed when you leave any of this info off your post, because then she has to go searching for it. Don’t do that to her. It’s rude.

Now, go enjoy the fills from this week!

Title: America's Ass[Hole] Collaborator: ceealaina Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C5 - Retirement Ship: Bucky/Sam/Steve Rating: Teen Major Tags: Alternate Universe - No Powers, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops and Cafes Summary: Steve and Bucky have been together for years – and they’ve been crushing on Sam for nearly as long. Turns out all they needed to seduce him were some inappropriate comments about doughnuts, an asshole customer, and one of Steve’s famous ‘Captain America’ tirades. Word Count: 1854

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Title: End Of All Days - Chapter 15: Part XIV Collaborator: Minka Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 – Never Again Ship: Stucky Rating: Mature Major Tags: graphic violence, PTSD Summary: Captain Steve Rogers had thought his military days were behind him, left in the bloody nightmare that was Saigon. Retired and working as a History Professor, the last thing he expected was to get caught up in a cataclysmic Slavic prophesy foreshadowing the end of the known world. With Cold War tensions running high, Steve finds himself in need of a guide and translator to get him behind the Iron Curtain and into the isolated snowdrifts of Siberia. It’s deep in the heart of Bucharest’s resistance fighters that Steve finds the ideal candidate, but swaying the enigmatic ex-operative known as The Winter Soldier proves to be complicated. Trust is hard-won, especially in the world of espionage, and with a KGB death squad nipping at his heels, the Soldier has countless reasons to stay presumably dead. As the lines between right, wrong and the supernatural begin to blur, Steve is forced to reconsider everything he’s ever believed, right from the sanctity of his own country to the very foundations of creation itself. --- Aka the Indiana Jones/Atomic Blonde lovechild of a fic that literally no one ever asked for but you’re bloody well going to get anyway. Word Count: 68,387

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Title: When We Get Out Of Hell Collaborator: seibelsays Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 - Canon: Earth-616 Ship: none Rating: Gen Major Tags: Team as Family, Bucky Barnes Recovering Summary: Bucky promised his friends that when the war was over, they would celebrate. Word Count: 2131

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Title: Art for The Winter Witcher Collaborator: feignedsobriquet Link: Tumblr Square Filled: K4 - AU: Fantasy World Ship: WinterIron Rating: Gen Major Tags: art Summary: fanart for 27dragons and tisfan’s Winter Witcher

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Title: a day of fun with bucky and clint Collaborator: jurassicworjd Link: AO3 Square Filled: B3 - Shopping Together Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Gen Major Tags: slight swearing Summary: Steve thinks Bucky should socialize more, which somehow leads to Clint dragging Bucky out of the tower for a shopping trip. Word Count: 2575

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Title: Date Night Collaborator: squadrickchestopher Link: AO3 Square Filled: Kink: Lingerie Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: explicit sexual content Summary: Clint doesn’t answer. He’s staring at Bucky’s legs, clad in dark stockings. As Bucky watches, he sinks to his knees and reverently reaches out, running a hand up Bucky’s calf. He skims over the garter belt straps, over to where they disappear under the purple panties, all the way up to where the straps attach to the lace part of the camisole. His thumb smooths over one of the little purple bows and he swallows roughly, the movement of his throat visible in the dim light of the kitchen. “Baby,” he finally says, voice faint. He looks up at Bucky’s face. “Did you wear all this for me?” Word Count: 8610

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Title: Retirement Farm Collaborator: writing-what-writing Link: Tumblr Square Filled: C4 - retirement Ship: Stucky Rating: Gen Major Tags: none Summary: Bucky retires from avenging and starts a farm Word Count: 1477

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Title: You’re the only place that feels like home - Chapter 1: Of all the things I´ve lost, I miss my mind the most Collaborator: LilMissAwesome Link: AO3 Square Filled: B5 - AU: No Powers Ship: WinterIron Rating: Not Rated Major Tags: ABO Summary: Due to a new law, that doesn´t allow Omegas to sign contracts anymore, Tony Stark finds himself in the need of an Alpha roommate - with emphasis on the "mate" part. Lucky for him that Bucky Barnes is also looking for a place to stay... Word Count: 1372

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Title: Poker Night at the Casino Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: Tumblr Square Filled: U3 - poker night Ship: Tony & Bucky Rating: Gen Major Tags: moodboard, gambling Summary: poker moodboard

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Title: What About Us? - Chapter 2 Collaborator: pherryt Link: AO3 Square Filled: B2 - Sex Friends Ship: WinterHawk Rating: Explicit Major Tags: A/B/O dynamics, Alpha x Alpha Summary: It’s the morning after and Bucky wasn’t expecting this. Word Count: 4006

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Title: Man On Man Collaborator: grimeysociety Link: AO3 Square Filled: K1 - Kink: Oral Sex Ship: Stucky Rating: Explicit Major Tags: Explicit Sexual Content, Brief Mention ofPeriod-Typical Homophobia Summary: They’d been kissing for only a few days, it still felt new, but he’d thought about it often enough, memories coming up from the recesses of his mind, and he’d drool – honest to God drool – thinking about what he wanted Steve to do to him. Word Count: 1155

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Title: The Name You Gave Me - Chapter 1: The Beginning Collaborator: fightingforcreativity, rebelmeg Link: AO3 Squares Filled: C5 - Mind Control/ Brainwashing (fightingforcreativity) B5 - scars (rebelmeg) Ship: Bucky & Natasha Rating: Mature Major Tags: Hydra, Red Room, brainwashing, trauma, child abuse Summary: The Asset has been here before. He knows because they don’t keep their words to themselves. But there are other signs as well. Like the cowering children and the red-haired girl that looks at him like she knows him. Word Count: 931

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Title: you don't want to fool around; you just want to lie in my arms Collaborator: flintrage Link: AO3 Square Filled: U3 - Takeout / Pizza. Ship: Teen Rating: Stucky Major Tags: fluff Summary: Sometimes one of you doesn't feel like fucking, and that's okay. You can make feet jokes and order pizza instead, and be just as happy. Word Count: 391

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Title: the gods think differently from us Collaborator: flintrage Link: AO3 Square Filled: U1 - Team Dynamics Ship: None Rating: Gen Major Tags: not Loki positive Summary: People on the internet seem to think Loki would make a good addition to the Avengers. The Avengers disagree. Word Count: 305

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Title: There are angels, and then there are ANGELS Collaborator: flintrage Link: AO3 Square Filled: C4 - “Dyin’ ain’t so bad.” Ship: None Rating: Teen Major Tags: near death experience Summary: Bucky almost dies. A pair of angels stop it from happening. Word Count: 443

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Title: The Name You Gave Me - Chapter 3: A Taste Of Freedom Collaborator: rebelmeg Link: AO3 Square Filled: B2 - Asset on the loose Ship: Bucky & Natasha Rating: Mature Major Tags: Hydra, Red Room, brainwashing, trauma, child abuse Summary: One last demonstration for the Winter Soldier's pupils goes horribly wrong. Freedom is so close, for both of them. Natalia had planned it all, and the As—no, Yasha, had just followed her call. Word Count: 3388

#buckybarnesbingo2020 #bbb #bbb weekly roundup #bbb week 10

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randomoranges · 4 years ago

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i blame my enablers; @quatschmachen who came up with this au and gave me permission to run with it and @allbeendonebefore for making art before i could even put this into actual words. somehow or other it was mostly as i had seen it go.

anyways, here’s a new au i told myself i would only start after completing the current au im trying to finish - but we all know how that story works

the au where étienne meets kate before he meets edward [that needs a better monicker] part 1

The fact of the matter is that Étienne Maisonneuve had not checked the weather that morning, before he left, slightly in a hurry. Therefore, when the deluge of the year opens up above his head, the only thing he can do before his precious cargo is drenched and ruined is to duck inside the closest building he can find and hope the storm passes.

Luckily, the closest building happens to be a cute little café that he runs towards at breakneck speed, even if he only ends up more drenched. He scans the area when he gets there and is dismayed that it seems packed, not an empty seat in sight. He supposes everyone else is lingering in, waiting out the storm, but then, a patron shifts ever so and there seems to be an empty spot by the bar.

He makes his way in, tries to dodge purses, bags, and humans and finally let’s himself plop down on the empty seat. He removes his rain soaked windbreaker, drops off his bag and art tubes on the counter, and then passes a hand through his mop of now dishevelled curly hair. He’s thankful for the hair tie he keeps around his wrist and collects his wet hair into a half-bun – anything to get the wet strands out of his face and away from dripping down his front. There’s nothing to be done about his shoes and he hopes maybe the washroom has an electric hand-dryer, but right now, he just wants to sit and catch his breath. The run into the café had been less than stellar and quite wet; it’s a good thing he was done for the day and headed home.

He’s about to consult the menu – get something, anything to let him stay here for a bit, when one of his art tubes rolls to the side and comes close enough to the patron on his right. He lunges for it before it can make impact and soak the poor woman as well, or at least, knock over her drink and cause another disaster, but in his haste he brushes up against her shoulder and it startles her enough that whatever she’d been writing becomes suddenly jittery.

“Shit – sorry, I’m so sorry, ah damn, sorry,” He says as accumulated water on the rivulets of the tube rolls towards the woman’s notebook. He grabs a wad of napkins from the napkin holder and tries to stop this mess from getting worse.

“It’s fine – it didn’t get wet, here, let me help you,” The woman says and together they manage the small flood on the table, art tubes are righted, notebooks are saved and they both laugh it off afterwards as Étienne sits himself back and doesn’t knock anything over.

“I had a small hope you were an artist, but looks like what you’re working on is in a whole different language,” Étienne says as he looks to the woman’s notebook, now safely pushed away. There are – what looks like – math equations and formulas written out that look foreign to Étienne. He’d hoped for an easy excuse to keep talking to her, casually mention his own art tubes and his own work, but now he fears he’ll have to work harder for a connection.

The woman looks back to her notebook and then lets out a low laugh. Étienne is surprised by the way it makes him feel, as though someone’s thrown a blanket over him and handed him a nice warm beverage – it’s so full and inviting that he can’t help but chuckle himself, “That? No, not art, sadly, a pain in the ass I’m trying to help a – friend with.” Étienne thinks she’s being generous, if she’s helping a friend with something so complex looking, but maybe she’s a student, maybe she solves complicated math for fun and maybe the problem isn’t as complex as it seems. He’d passed math by the skin of his teeth anyway, so who is he to judge?

“And what about you? Are you some kind of architect?” She asks pointing to the art tubes in turn.

“God no – I’m an artist – or trying to be one. Had to go pick up these sketches from the gallery where I had them up,” He’s bragging – a little bit, but he’s proud of this series of work and it had been his first actual real show. He’d even sold three pieces. Plus, this woman is really pretty, now that he’s gotten a good look at her. He likes the brightness of her eye shadow that makes the hazel of her eyes pop out. He likes the way some of her dark brown hair spills from her hair tie and frames her face just so. She looks – soft, in her cable knit magenta sweater that falls a little off her shoulders, her dark denim jeans and her high suede looking boots. Étienne looks, for a moment, and the woman’s cheek colour ever so.

“Ooh, an artist, that sounds like fun, are you any good?” She teases, easy smile gracing her face as she takes a sip of her drink.

“I don’t know, would you like to see and judge yourself?”

“My, my, aren’t you the confident one?”

He likes the banter – likes how easy it’s coming and so he uncaps the art tube and carefully takes out a few of the sketches inside. She puts her own notebook away, makes the terrible, horrible math disappear in her messenger bag and she leans a little closer to get a better look at his work. Étienne catches a whiff of something fruity and the vivid thought of furrowing his face in the crook of her neck flashes by.

He likes what he sees; he has no shame about that.

“Oh, I wasn’t expecting this!” She says and it sounds sincere and not like the snide remarks he’s often got. He knows his style isn’t everyone’s cup of tea – he knows he tends to go more abstract and that he’s heavy in his distorted figures, but it works for him. He’s getting noticed in his own right. Plus, these are sketches, his real potential in his painting and his murals – but he has a habit of working on giant surfaces and he hasn’t any of those on him at the moment.

“You have a very unique style, but I really like the motion in your figures,” She says and Étienne thinks that this is a woman who knows her art. He thanks her for the compliment and then rolls up his work once she’s done looking through it.

Étienne fears that this is the end of his pleasant exchange with her, but the conversation keeps going – about the weather, about the news, about this café and about a million other little things and Étienne is charmed by her. He eventually orders himself something to drink – to chase the chill from his bones and he gets a pastry as well, feeling famished all of a sudden.

“I wouldn’t have pinned you for a frothy drink person,” She says, teasing tone still in place and Étienne wonders when he’d ever last met someone who wasn’t afraid to tease back – to give as good as they received. It seems as though this woman is not afraid to engage in conversation and to banter and Étienne finds it ever so refreshing.

“Yes, well, life is short and I’ll have you know that I’m absolutely full of surprises,” He winks at her as he takes a sip and if he makes a show of licking the foam off his upper lip, it’s mostly for laughs and only partially to get a reaction out of her. Which he does and she laughs a great deal even if her cheeks are still a little rosy.

“Are you equally full of mysteries or will I ever get your name?” She asks, once she recovers.

“Maybe – but only if I get yours in return.”

“That sounds fair, I’m E – Kate. I’m Kate.” She tells him.

Étienne grins, pleased and reaches across the distance to shake her hand, “It really is a pleasure to meet you, Kate, I’m Étienne.” They shake hands as though they’ve just closed on an important deal and it makes them both laugh at the silliness of it all.

They remain at the café for a while longer, past the end of the showers, and it’s only when Kate’s phone goes off that they part ways. She excuses herself as she gathers her things and Étienne wishes her a nice end of day as she heads out. He lingers a little more, before he decides to head home as well, and it’s only much later in the evening that he berates himself for not asking for her number.

Still, he thinks, it had been a really nice afternoon and something tells him, that if he’s lucky, he’ll run into her again.

CURRENT: I NEXT: II

#pc: montreal #pc: edmonton #edward murphy #kk the magnificent #pc: kk the supreme #étienne maisonneuve #au #ficlet #drag meeting au #3 sentence fic meme thing

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deletingpoint · 5 years ago

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destiel fic recs part 3

Part 1

Part 2

I’ve added heart to the ones i really-really love for perhaps personal reasons, but otherwise these are all beautiful fics and you won’t regret reading them! (same goes for my previous lists obvi :))

<10 k

The Secret Santa of Cubicle Land by followyourenergy Castiel Novak has never loved the workplace Secret Santa tradition, but he loves watching his coworker (and his very straight, secret crush) Dean Winchester’s enthusiastic responses to his daily gifts. Dean is so enthusiastic that he declares he’s going to ask his Secret Santa on a date.

Dry in the Downpour by almaasi Dean was in half a mind – nay, three-quarters of a mind – just to turn back, go home, make coffee, call in sick and watch wrestling and porn all day, when the rain stopped abruptly.

He glanced around in surprise, then looked up.

An umbrella. Someone had put an umbrella over him.

Adagio by noangelsinthegarrison

<3 “His name’s Dean," Cas sighs, "And he’s really stupidly attractive, and when he dances, he feels it, you know? And it makes me feel like I know him, even though I don’t. He makes me feel like… like he’s dancing just for me.”Gabriel rolls his eyes, “Wow, you’re over-dramatic when you’re horny.”

He Thought He Was Reckless by MajorEnglishEsquire Cas settles back and rolls his head on the seat. Tugs on the corner of Dean’s jacket.

Sits there. Pathetic-looking and unnecessarily bleeding.

(a.k.a.: Dean is a super Soft Boy.)

The Age-long Rivalry Between Pilots and Engineers by Winglesss <3 Living on a space station isn´t easy. Especially when you share your quarters with someone like Castiel Novak.

Irresistible by raths_kitten

<3 Castiel is a lonely wizard longing for a familiar to bond with. Dean just really wants a taste of this pie that’s luring him in somehow.

so this is the miracle by deanniker He doesn't believe in magic, or fairytales, or happy endings. If someone were to ask his opinion, he'd say that the ball is nothing more than a clever stunt, something meant to drum up popular support for the new king, that would inevitably come to naught when he married some foreign princess.

No one asks him his opinion, of course.

10-50 k

A Brief Glimpse by cloudyjenn Castiel is utterly convinced he can't love anyone, but Sam, so when a strange occurrence at a carnival shows him otherwise, he doesn't know what to do.

Unholy Ground by teacass (Fushigi) “And I’m not a vandal,” the man shoots back. “My name’s Dean. And I think there’s been a misunderstanding—”

“No,” Castiel hisses. “I have watched you. I have seen you creep around with your shovel and your gun and I have seen you trying to desecrate the graves, my graves, so do not talk to me about a misunderstanding—” Dean holds his hands up and shakes his head. “Shit, man, I swear I’m not trying to—” Castiel has had enough, though, so he flicks his wrist and pushes Dean over one of the tombstones and down to the ground. Dean falls with a grunt and tries to stand up quickly, but Castiel keeps him pinned to the ground with a raise of his eyebrow. “I am the guardian of this cemetery,” he states when he stops and looks down on the struggling man. “I will not be made a fool of, especially not by someone like you.”

Chili Peppers by justanothersong for literaryoblivion Dr. Winchester hears an off hand comment from one of his students and find himself browsing a website dedicated to rating university professors. He's not surprised by his rating -- but is a little miffed to see the department chair has an even better one. Clearly, something needs to be done about this.

The Choice by RedheadedSuperhero To solidify the alliance between the Houses of Veenah and Winchester, Castiel agrees to marry one of Lord John’s sons. It’s not like he has any say in that matter anyway – as a marriage of convenience is the fate of almost any royal omega. He is even grateful that the king of Winchester had offered him to make his own choice between his three children. From all he had heard, Castiel already likes the scholar Samuel from afar; he certainly prefers him to the infamous Demon Knight or Adam, who is hardly more than a pup. So, he believes his decision is already made as he travels towards his new home.

But unfortunately, things go horribly wrong, and Castiel finds himself alone in an unclaimed forest, with only a strange hunter to help him find his way the castle of Winchester. And by the time he arrives, he might have already changed his mind.

Don't Be So Charming by PieDarling - Very loosely based on the movie “Prince Charming” -

Prince Dean was always meant to be fortunate, all the fairies and witches in the kingdom of his father would shower him with gifts. However, one of them had a deep darkness in her heart and out of selfishness cursed him instead, condemning him to have everyone fall under his charm and never know true love. His only hope is to break the curse before his 21st birthday.

At first, Dean is lost. How can he fall in love when everyone he meets falls under his charm? He finds hope in a magic coin his mother left him and in search of that hope he sets out on a journey with his childhood friend, Castiel, as his companion. Castiel is the only person Dean has ever met to not be affected by his curse, he trusts him more than anyone else.

Manifest Destiny by KreweOfImp The year is 1899. The Wild West is in its dying days—but don’t tell that to the outlaws of Eastern Kansas. The gangs are Winchester and Novak, and the feud is bitter and blood-soaked.

The families were friendly once upon on a time, but that time is long gone, and when Michael Novak, the second-in-command to the Novaks, sees the opportunity to have Dean, golden boy and heir apparent to the Winchester gang at his mercy, he takes it. They have history, Michael and Dean, and he’s been waiting on this opportunity for a long time.

What Michael didn’t bank on was that his cousin Castiel, the Novak gang’s resident scapegoat and outcast, would have some sympathy for the prisoner—let alone start to like him.

Eyes Like Knives by jennyfly for palominopup When rockstar Dean Winchester comes home to Austin to play a stop on his sold-out tour, he's surprised after the encore by a hot cop barging backstage to deliver some awful news. Not only is Detective Castiel Novak the bearer of bad news, but he also wants to question Dean's estranged brother, Sam. Can a frantic police investigation over the course of a single weekend result in a lasting romance? Hey, this is fanfiction; why not?

Knocking on Heaven's Door by sir_kingsley Dean Winchester left Castiel Novak in pieces when he broke off their engagement 21 days before they were supposed to get married. Now, a year later, Castiel has put himself back together and is moving on with his life and he seems to be doing okay. Until Dean comes knocking on his door at ass-o'clock in the morning. Now Cas must come to terms with the mess of a man who broke his heart but somehow still... has it.

Shadow and Storm by zaphodsgirl One night, a mysterious visitor appears in young Prince Dean's bedroom, and he suddenly finds himself transported to an abandoned replica of his home in an unknown land. He learns quickly that the borders are finite, and none may leave without incurring the wrath of the guardian: a dragon the people call Storm.

Left with no choice, Dean adapts to life as the others have, tending to the animals and working the land to survive. As he grows up, the life he knew as a prince seems more and more distant, until a new person arrives that he remembers from his childhood. Shaken by this arrival, Dean’s desire to escape returns anew, and he discovers more than he wanted to know about the Shadowlands and its occupants -- especially about the mysterious guardian of the castle, Castiel.

Such Familiar Magic by saltnhalo When solitary witch Castiel finds an injured dog unconscious in his garden, he takes it in. He's expecting to heal it, look after it for a few days, then perhaps return it to its owners.

He's not expecting it to be one of the strongest familiars he's ever met.

The Greatest International Love Story the World Has Ever Seen by MalMuses Dean wasn’t the type of person who did this kind of thing. He just wasn’t. GISH?? Ugh. The whole thing was just further proof that Dean would do anything his brother wanted him to do. Why else would he be in a Stormtrooper costume, calling up his ex-girlfriend for a private yoga class? Had he been stuck in a rut that long? Given that he’d been pining for the same freakin’ guy, his professor and coworker no less, for three long years… maybe.

Cas was definitely the type of person who did this kind of thing, not that many people knew that. He was one of the most well-respected professors at KSU. His students and coworkers didn’t need to know that he was captain of a GISH team, or that he knitted kinky accessories and made art with his online friends. His TA certainly didn’t need to know either. Just professionalism, of course. Nothing at all to do with the failed attempt at a relationship, three years of pining, and frequent inappropriate daydreams.

A two-person love triangle with online friendships, costumes, and a lot of glitter.

Scintilla by WinchestersRaven Dean Winchester: ghost hunter extraordinaire! Call now for all your paranormal needs!

He cringes at the flyer. It's tacky and cliche, but Sam insisted it would bring in more customers. And dammit, if he wasn't right--this new case sounds like a doozy.

Dean’s a medium with a unique gift of being an empath. Seeing and speaking with the dead is as normal to him as speaking with his brother, Sam. A new job leads him to Georgia, Castiel Novak, and a historical home that’s tucked away on a mountain. As he investigates, he not only uncovers the secrets of his client’s family but also one of his own that he may not recover from. One that has the potential to destroy the budding relationship that is quickly forming between him and Castiel. Will they make it through to see the light on the other side? Or will the darkness that surrounds the home claim them as its next victims?

If At First You Don't Succeed (Destroy All Evidence That You Ever Tried) byjustkeeponwriting “Three days, Cas,” Dean groaned. “You’re not going to call her tomorrow and scare her off, like you always do! Or worse, tonight! That has ‘creeper’ written all over it.”Or, the one where Dean pretends to be a woman who likes to text Cas in order to teach him a lesson, and finds that he’s way in over his head. (Inspired by How I Met Your Mother's episode 4x21, "The Three Days Rule".)

Pineapple on Pizza by HigherMagic In a world where everyone is colorblind until meeting their soulmate, Castiel suddenly sees color during one of his concerts.

Lois Lane Never Had it So Hard by FunnyWings <3 It started with the most humiliating picture of Dean Winchester's life and just snowballed from there.When a sinister new big bad moves into Lawrence Kansas, will the local heroes (and maybe a few villains) be able to band together and save their home?

Get a Whiff of This by bendingsignpost <3 When no good deed goes unpunished, Dean ends up sentenced to community service for physically defending another Omega at his job. That is, at his former job. It's all a steaming pile of shit, and that's exactly what he has to clean up at the joint animal shelter and clinic he's been assigned to.With a face full of allergies and a horrific mood, all Dean has to do is get through six weeks of this sinus-assaulting torture. That's not so easy with a smartass Alpha receptionist, but at least the weird Beta vet might just end up being kinda cool.

Dean Winchester is Not Afraid of Ghosts by Desirae When photographer Dean Winchester is not capturing momentous occasions like weddings and graduations with his Nikon, he is moonlighting as the cameraman for the South Shore Paranormal; a ghost hunting series on YouTube, headed by his brother Sam, and Sam's best friend Gabriel.Despite his brother's adamance, Dean Winchester does not believe in ghosts. And no one is going to change his mind. Certainly not a scam artist like Castiel Novak. Castiel is a self-proclaimed medium... and Gabriel's brother. When a member of the SSP team has to leave the crew, Castiel is the replacement, much to Dean's dismay. But the more they work together, the more Dean is drawn to Castiel, the man stirring up protective instincts usually only reserved for family.What happens when Dean realizes that Castiel is not the fake he always thought he was, but instead, a generous soul that Dean is rapidly falling in love with?

Looking For Group by athaclena Dean Winchester is in love with his best friend, a man he has never met, who goes by the handle AngelofThursday. Problem is, Thursday values his privacy and refuses to meet. Dean buries himself in his work at his bakery Slice of Pi and in computer games, desperately trying to move on from a man he can never have.

James Novak has problems of his own. Trying to cling onto what sense of security he can, he drifts around the city from café to coffee-shop to bar, using their wi-fi to keep his online footprint anonymous. He falls in lust with The Beautiful Man at his favourite coffee-shop, Study/Break, and turns to his best friend The_Michaelsword for advice.

A two-person love triangle for the digital age.

Time Still Exists by starespressos Castiel Novak has dreamed of participating in a theater dancing project forever. When a spot opens at Rowena MacLeod's theater, he jumps right in -- even though it means taking over from someone who has recently passed away. Soon enough, he meets Dean, who spends almost as much time at the theater as Castiel does but refuses to share any details about himself. Castiel is intrigued by him, and not only because Dean is the first person in a long time to treat him with anything less than admiration. As their friendship and the mystery around Dean deepen over time, Castiel’s perception of both himself and the universe is changed forever.

Falling Through The Ice by athaclena for JupiterJames Dean's finally retired from the Dallas Stars, and he's back at his original home ice-rink for a publicity stunt for his autobiography. Problem is, he has to do something that terrifies him. Second problem is, he has to do it in front of the man he was best friends with as a kid, until the ice cracked under him and he was left on the wrong side of an increasingly large chasm.

A story about smashing expectations (and some pumpkins), what it means to be brave, and how to follow your heart. Also, smut.

Genie in a Bottle by thepopeisdope

<3 When Dean finds (okay, steals) a bottle containing a strange, glowing blue substance, he does so thinking it's a cool novelty, at best. It didn't exactly cross his mind that the substance might be a living being, let alone a grumpy, sarcastic, perpetually-underdressed genie waiting for a new master. But now that he has a bona fide genie at his disposal, well-what better chance will he have to help things along with Lisa?

Except, things don't always go as expected, relationships are complicated, magic is never the solution, and sometimes the person you want isn't the person you need.

Between the Lines by JhanaMay Environmental rights activist Castiel Novak may not have grown up on the Plains, but he has thrown himself into protecting and conserving South Dakota’s natural treasures as if he was a native. When Dean Winchester, Hollywood’s modern day John Wayne, comes to South Dakota to film his next movie, Cas is more focused on preventing the environmental damage Dean’s movies cause than hoping for a chance to meet him. After Cas makes some negative comments on social media about the actor’s authenticity as a cowboy, he is invited to spend a week alone with the star, roughing it in the wilderness. Cas sets out to prove exactly how fake Dean Winchester really is, but he isn’t expecting to find out that Dean is a troubled man running from a past that is just as difficult as his own.

50-100 k

so bitter and so sweet by superhoney Dean has known about the family curse ever since it claimed the life of his mother: anyone who dares to love a Winchester is fated to die. When he takes a chance on love and loses his husband Benny, his belief in its power only grows stronger.

Two years later, a late-night phone call from his brother Sam sends both of their lives spinning wildly out of control. Then Officer Cas Novak arrives in town, looking into the disappearance of Sam’s girlfriend Ruby, and starts asking questions Sam and Dean can’t answer. Complicating matters even further, Dean feels an immediate, overwhelming connection to the intense, blue-eyed source of their problems.

Dealing with all the secrets, the lies, and a brother slowly crumbling under the weight of his guilt doesn’t leave much time for romance, but as Cas gets closer to the truth, he also gets closer to Dean.

Will you be my ten inch hero? by NotfunnyDean (IronEyes) When John Winchester kicks Dean out, after he saw him kissing another boy, and Dean sees that Sam has a perfect life at Stanford without him, Dean starts a new life in Santa Cruz. He works at a tiny shop as a cook, has found some friends there, and is overall happy enough. That changes when Castiel comes into his shop and his Co-worker Azara, who has a different man every night, starts flirting with him right in front of Dean. Not that he would be jealous or anything, but there is something about Castiel that makes him weak in the knees. Only that Castiel would never want him back, right?

Reality of Dreams by sternchencas for my sister Dean Winchester has been living a boring life. At least until his brother is missing, the police think he has something to do with it, and a group of people who call themselves 'Liberi Somniorum' and live in an underground bunker ask him to join them so they can teach him how to use his dreaming abilities. As if that isn't bad enough, the police also took his car and then there's this guy in a trenchcoat who's guarding him, and some dark secret. Dean does his best to convince himself it's a dream. But somehow, sometimes, dreams can be very real, and this time, he just can't wake up.

Green Corners by rustling_pages

<3 After the death of his son, there is nothing left for Dean other than his garden market. His days are tough, the nights are tougher, but at least there's a reason to get up in the morning. And with the new boom on do-it-yourself garden magic, his business is going okay.

Amidst the passing of time, there is only one thing that distracts him from functioning like a normal human being: Diagonally across the street, in the display window of that traditional Herb and Potion shop, plants are dying in masses.

Storming in to confront the owner goes differently than he imagined, though. Castiel Novak may be the kind of guy who wears old-fashioned mage robes and keeps his shop in sweltering heat, but he's also a talented herbalist, the kindest soul Dean has ever met, and utterly beautiful.

Not that Dean is ready for anything other than friendship.

(Not that Cas doesn’t get sick a bit too often.)

And This, Your Living Kiss by opal_bullets <3 Only a very few people in the world know that the celebrated and reclusive poet Jack Allen is just Kansas mechanic Dean Winchester, a high school dropout with a few bucks to his name. Not that it matters anymore; life has left him so wrung out he never wants to pick up another pen.Until, that is, a string of coincidences leads Dean to auditing a poetry course with one Dr. Castiel Novak. The professor is wildly intelligent, devastatingly handsome...and just so happens to be academia's foremost expert on the poetry of Jack Allen.

Turn the World to Gold by superhoney, teacass (Fushigi)

<3 Just as Dean is starting to get comfortable at his new mining job in Nevada, the site is shaken by the announcement of a six-week visit from a team of consultants hired to make changes to the practices and procedures of the mine. Among that team is Castiel Novak, one of the most coolly infuriating, stuck-up, unfairly attractive men Dean has ever met.

The friction between them comes to a head during an unexpected but scorching hot makeout session at a company picnic, and they soon fall into a pattern of hooking up at the site or after work at Castiel’s hotel. But it’s just sex, or so they keep telling themselves. Castiel is only in Nevada for six weeks. They’ll have their fun, and then it’ll be over. But as those six weeks go by and they gradually get to know each other, both of them find themselves wondering if there might be a chance it could become something more.

Where the Lightning Splits the Sea by thepopeisdope Seattle’s hero never fails to live up to his given nickname. Like an angel, he appears when he’s needed most, a miracle when none is expected; he gets in quick, then gets out quicker, and like the angel he is, he goes off to perform his miracles elsewhere, often without any link between one miracle and the next, aside from the fact that he shows up when someone needs help.That’s how Dean met him, after all. The Angel is the only reason he’s alive.And that’s also why Dean is more than a little bit in love with him.But when the Angel is suddenly defeated, Dean’s world turns on its head. His city is in a vacuum, heroless for the first time in years, and to make Dean’s life even harder, his roommate has turned quiet, withdrawn. Dean doesn’t know what happened to make Cas’ mood swing so drastically, but he wants nothing more than to see him happy again. Dean owes the Angel a debt. Choosing between the two isn’t an easy thing to do.When the Hunter is born, the balance becomes nearly impossible to keep up.

Pining Sickness; Or, Murder With One Stone by athaclena, iraeim New York, 1895. The rigid customs of the old century are beginning to fall away, allowing access to the professions for more people than just Omega men and Alpha women. Dean Winchester, the city’s first Alpha male Detective, uncovers evidence that a mysterious new illness killing mated couples might have its origins is the criminal rather than the medical.Castiel Novak is a respectable Omega doctor who has started to see patients dying cruelly of something he cannot cure or even effectively treat. Approached by the Detective to once again give his medical expertise, he is eager to work towards finding a cause and, he hopes, a cure for the unfortunate sufferers. But both men harbour a secret attraction towards the other, and the quest for the truth will stretch their relationship beyond its limits.A historical murder mystery set against a backdrop of a non-traditional Omegaverse.

Silver and Cold by superhoney The death of a young man in an apparent animal attack brings hunter Cas Novak to the small town of Sydnam, Maine. It doesn’t take long for him to realize he’s tracking a werewolf, but discovering the killer’s identity is no easy task. All signs point towards Dean Winchester, a lonely recluse who lives in the middle of the woods and whose antagonistic behaviour does little to lessen Cas’ suspicions.As the investigation drags on, their mutual distrust gives way to a wary alliance. Cas’ instincts warn him that Dean is hiding something, but as he uncovers the man beneath the mystery, his professional interest becomes far more personal. Praying his faith in Dean isn’t misplaced, Cas races to catch the killer before the next full moon rises and another life is abruptly cut short.

The Horse-King by cloud_wolfbane, opal_bullets When orphans Sam and Dean Winchester get jobs in Horsetown, they figure that being stable boys is just their lot in life. But when King Metatron takes a peculiar liking to an even more peculiar horse they find themselves in the middle of an intrigue they barely understand, leading to an adventure full of magic and mystery, faith and betrayal, and maybe - if they survive it - love.

In Some Sacred Place by Hellosaidthemoon, schmerzerling Dean has cystic fibrosis, a brutal respiratory disease that means he can’t cut it in the life his father chose for him, despite his very best efforts. He also has a give ‘em hell attitude and a dogged crush on his childhood best friend. Castiel has an absent father, a stellar GPA, a comprehensive ten-year plan, and—a lot of reservations about all this.

Should've Just Asked by Annie D (scaramouche) Despite their age gap and differing social circles, Castiel has struck up a warm friendship with Mary Winchester, a wealthy widowed socialite. When Castiel needs a place to stay, Mary invites him into her house, where there’s loads of spare room. Castiel’s aware that they make an odd pair, but he doesn’t fully realize how things look to outsiders, especially to Mary’s eldest son. All Dean Winchester sees is that his mom has apparently hooked up with a hot young guy (who is totally Dean’s type) and that makes things… weird.

100+ k

The Brave and the Bold by manifestingwings In a world where dragons reign over the mountains and terror looms in the streets of the city of Lavendel, Dean Winchester never expected his main problem to be a surly thief with eyes like the sea and a rare smile. As Captain of the Guard, he knows he has to arrest him for his crimes, but there may be bigger things at stake…

Shot Through The Heart by peanutbutterjelly-pie (Aleakim) As a hunter Dean finds himself more often than not relying on the help of the Men of Letters. Most of the time that's not much of a problem - if it wasn't for Castiel, the smartass bookworm with the piercing blue eyes, the messy hair and the rude attitude.

He's been an annoying thorn in Dean's side since day one - and the hunter doesn't see that change anytime soon!

Everyone's a Critic by Englandwouldfall The one where uninspired chef Dean Winchester has a one night stand with the male (!) food critic who described the flavour of his garlic bread as 'closeted' and accidentally ends up dating him to try and prove that he's a kick ass chef, thank you very much.

(He may have a point about the 'closeted' thing).

Dreaming in Digital by Ltleflrt for jupiter_james Set in a Cyberpunk world where global warming and climate change has driven most of the human population into domed cities, Sam and Dean hunt rogue tech and science experiments gone wrong in the shadows, protecting the lives of those the government doesn't care about anymore. On a trip to the dump to scavenge for valuables Dean finds Castiel, an Angel Industries sex bot, which is worth his weight in credits. But when he turns the sex bot on, he learns that Castiel is sentient.

Artificial Intelligence is illegal, and for good reason, but Cas doesn't put off dangerous vibes. That doesn't stop Sam from researching his creators while Dean's off making friends with the android. If there's someone out there creating a robot army unconstrained by the 3 rules of robotics, Sam's going to make sure the operation is shut down for good.

Castiel just wants to exist. He wants to read and work in the Winchester's greenhouse and have movie nights with Dean. But he also wants to understand. Himself. His unexpected reaction to Dean. What it it means to feel.

A Graced Kingdom by angvlicmish

<3 this is a wip but i can’t not add it!!! Ten years ago, the Northern Continent was at peace, angels and humans living side by side until the human King Winchester of Torrin waged war against the angels in an attempt to wipe them out - an attempt that almost succeeded. However, to this day some angels still remain in hiding and with an unpredictable turn of events one of them finds himself as the personal guard to King Winchester’s firstborn son, Prince Dean. With a strange ability no angel has had before - to hide his own wings - no one knows that they have just let their greatest enemy into the heart of their kingdom.

Alone and struggling to deal with being surrounded by the ones who slaughtered his people, Castiel comes head to head with the Crown Prince. But what he finds within the man is not what he expected and they soon become each other’s only comfort.

Will Dean be the strength Castiel needs to pull through or will he be the weakness that will tear everything to pieces?

#destiel fic recs #destiel rec list #spn fic rec #destiel fic rec #destielfanficnet #destiel #these are almost all au-s

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soul-heart-and-beyond · 5 years ago

Note

♡ ( Rip to our bones)

Send me a ‘ ♡ ’ and i’ll talk about what type of relationship i could see our muses having

(I’ll just make a copy of this for Ludwig and John to put on their own respective blogs. Though I’m not certain all of them would meet or get to know each other.)

Launchpad + Dewey

A brotherly bond that would practically rival that of his with Huey and Louie. Though he knows that Launchpad likes to try and spend his time with everyone, he’s usually ready to throw down when it comes to any sort of gig the two might have planned. Whether it be binge watching stuff, reading comics, discussing about fictional stuff, some outside sports here and there, and the like! Launchpad’s like the older brother Dewey wanted, instead of the one that he got, but he still loves Huey too. He just vibes more with Launchpad. Together, you’ve got an unstoppable, unforgettable duo!

Falcon + Dewey

(Taking in some parts of their first meeting and today’s episode) Just like how Falcon wants nothing to do with Dewey, the same goes for him. It’s not really the stiff and tight beaked personality that Falcon has, but just for how the both of them were eventually risking the other’s life by dropping them off of a large building (probably a small skyscraper to be honest). The boy isn’t traumatized by that, he’s been through worse, but associating himself with someone who’s always looking for that money, and somehow keeps pairing himself up with Mark Beaks unknowingly is probably someone that’s good to avoid.

Flintheart + Dewey

“Oof, it’s that one weird old guy that keeps trying to kill my great uncle and is.... super obsessed with him.”, Dewey would say before veering his head away from looking at the other. He can respect Flintheart’s tenacity and perseverance, after all, he’s gone through some of the same problems about not being taken seriously or given what he wants even though he’s probably either earned it or it’s common courtesy. but what he can’t is the other’s want for vengeance. So what if Scrooge made Flintheart what he is? He should be thanking the guy and moving on with his life, do some stuff that can be good to others instead of nasty plots and schemes on how to take out the recently richest duck in the world. And Glomgold can try whatever scheme he’s got in store for him, but Dewey will just have to be extra careful on what’s really important.

Launchpad + Duckworth

Something that was definitely transparent but revealed to show more consistency than some other unlikely pairings. It probably wouldn’t be the case hadn’t Duckworth died, since that opened his mind more to possibilities, and probably his time in the Afterlife did make him lose some empathy for a bit. However, by interacting and learning more about Launchpad, he’s recovered some of what he lost, and learning to enjoy the things that he had and didn’t have before. That and something else blossomed between them. Whenever they might have been conversing with each other, he’s started to find himself somewhat liking the duck’s qualities, and some of his faults even. Normally that wouldn’t have happened before, but then again, he’s grateful for how Launchpad does put up with him when he isn’t feeling too optimistic. Now he prefers to spend time with the pilot and is able to have fun once again.

Falcon + Duckworth

They are pretty similar in some aspects, which would normally be something that would help draw some people together, but not these two. Duckworth definitely has the edge on giving out more quippy remarks that the falcon may not appreciate, and is more than willing to go into a back and forth session if the other wants to participate. Yet another part where they may diverge is how they deal with loyalty and trust. Duckworth’s more devoted to those that are willing to trust others, be honest with people, and he’ll gladly do what he can to defend those that need a hand. Falcon is more os someone who doesn’t share those interests and beliefs, which does put them at odds with each other as Duckworth might ask, “Where is your loyalty? Do not say that it is as transparent as me for I can solidify mine. You can follow suit.”

Flintheart + Duckworth

One of the most unlikely people to really interact with each other, especially after how Duckworth died by Flintheart’s plan, indirectly. He still doesn’t like the idea of trusting and letting the other go free with what he’s done, but he also won’t take out the duck’s life as revenge for that would just be giving in to his anger and hatred over the years. Something that should not be listened to as taking one’s life as payment for another’s should never be the first option. If he wants to be better and not stoop down to Flintheart’s level, he’ll just have to let the duck be until he messes with him and his family again. However, now that he’s getting a bit of fun out of this, maybe taunting Flintheart with his own voice and physique wouldn’t be such a bad idea...

Launchpad + Fenton

“Is that really supposed to be some sort of joke? Because it’s not funny, Launchpad.” He really dislikes how Launchpad keeps trying to think of him as a robot, and he’ll keep trying to prove it to the other to get him to stop it. Fenton probably doesn’t know that it could be just mild teasing from how they first met, but it should make sense since Launchpad met him when he was Fenton first and Gizmoduck second. But, he does like it whenever they do veer away from that topic and talk more about mechanical things, and maybe a little more, considering that Fenton himself is a little bit of a superhero fan and has some stuff o his own to share with Launchpad. Though he may not like Darkwing Duck....

Falcon + Fenton

It’s certainly going to have some gray lines of tension here since their introduction is not going off on a good start. While he can commend the other’s dedication to their work, he can’t really defend or appreciate how Falcon likes to see everything so bluntly, black and white, but he’s somehow the only gray out of all of this. It’s selfish, bias, and more importantly, rude to other’s and how they could be able to change, but for Fenton, he just sees this as Falcon’s excuse to continue doing what he does. It might be something the professional tells himself to get away from facing the truth for the things that he’s done for his previous employers. It’s one thing to put the blame on others, but it’s another to try and separate yourself like you’re better than them but just do what you’re paid to do, and that’s what keeps them from having any really positive conversation. Sure, they can make fun of Mark all they want, but that isn’t going to make the problem between them go away.

Flintheart + Fenton

Flintheart would probably be the last person Fenton should really interact with, if not him then Mark, but given how he’s always willing to lend others a hand with his ideas or just be an overall nice person, something’s bound to go wrong. He hasn’t really gotten any instances where he could see Flintheart’s evilness and hatred on full display, and the faux funeral for Scrooge doesn’t really count since he only got to see Flintheart just do some disrespectful dancing. Besides that, he tries to believe that everyone, even Flintheart can change for the better too if they want to, like those anger management classes, and he’d be happy to help the rick mallard with that, but working for him might be something that he won’t allow. Given that Glomgold Industries probably doesn’t have that many appealing aspects to them and he rather not feel like he’s betraying Scrooge and Gyro after what happened with the Waddleduck incident.

Jim, Negaduck, Black Arts, Garbonzo, Brandon, and Rubber Chicken are down below:

Launchpad + Jim

Now who coulda saw this one coming?! A washed up star and his favorite number 1 fan that still remembers him upon the countless others that have forgotten him? You bet that Jim would love to get a taste of what it feels like to be a star again, even if it’s from one person. However, he can’t let that go to his head as this is practically the only one he’s got left that really cares, despite all the fainting. But, it might not hurt to have someone to bump heads with when it comes to returning to his role, for real this time...

Flintheart + Jim

While trying to give the real life Darkwing Duck gig a try, he finds that it’s definitely not as easy as it was on set, but that’s to be expected. Real life isn’t a game and neither is the battle between good and evil! Sure, he’d loved to be sponsored and given money by anyone that would fund a revival campaign of Darkwing Duck again, but he also cannot let the actions of Flitnheart Glomgold go unpunished. He doesn’t care how many times he’d have to put the duck in jail as long as it gets Flintheart to stop trying to be such a terrible member of society, and maybe not find out who he is in the process so he could get some of that good green moolah.

Launchpad + Negaduck

A reverse palette swapped Darkwing Duck that’s also sporting some different liberties taken on the iconic Darkwing Duck design? It might be a little odd, but it could be interesting that the guy chose a more striking set of colors compared to the cool and night patterned colors of the original. However, the black does help and oh wait, this guy’s going on about stuff that hasn’t happened here? What’s a Negaverse? Why does this guy sound like he knows him already? Ah, it’s just a weird Darkwing fanboy.

All of this is most likely going to get Launchpad put on Negaduck’s permanent to kill list, and he doesn’t care how long it takes, he’ll abuse and bruise the until he can get that satisfying moment, but it may take a while, and patience is not something Drake really has a lot of. Not for idiots in his book anyway.

Falcon + Negaduck

A well know Public Enemy in one universe and practically the ruler of his city in his own, up against some orderly goon that knows how to handle himself in a fight against many odds and situations? Negaduck may like the fact that Falcon can handle himself, but he’s not gonna like it when Falcon uses that to prevent him from doing whatever he wants. Hopefully Falcon can count those with unchecked rage again, as this condiment colored duck is another one of those with anger issues.

Flintheart + Negaduck

It would be Elegance in Violence, but for these two? Nah, just go wreck stuff up and don’t care about it. Drake can really admire the rich duck’s taste in senseless violence, but doesn’t like that he sets his sights on someone so low like Scrooge McDuck. What’s there to that has been that’s dangerous? He could probably take on the whole family with enough planning and resources, so why hasn’t Flintheart done that already? Another thing that might separate them is how that Flintheart isn’t as willing to go through with his plans unlike Negaduck. When Drake wants you gone, he’ll try to find a way and he doesn’t care how as long as it’s got class and you know he’s the one that killed you. He won’t cower, and even if he did, there’s usually a plan behind that.

Launchpad + Black Arts

It would seem pretty unlikely for Launchpad to try and befriend a Beagle Boy, most people wouldn’t given their family background and reputation, but Black Arts is happy to have someone outside of his family or his teacher to talk to. It gives him a chance to have a life, a mind outside of what his Ma wants for him, and while his teacher is cool, it’s always good to have more people to talk to to feel less isolated from the world. Sure, he’s got the internet to help him on that, but for face to face communication or interaction... not so much. Still, he like Launchpad and is willing to show him some magic someday!

Duckworth + Black Arts

It’d be really against his liking to let Duckworth get away with the embarrassment that happened the night he was summoned back by him, but he can’t help that for some reason, the ghost is apparently getting him to laugh, talk about stuff that normally he wouldn’t spill, and overall trying his hardest to ridicule him, but still treat him differently than the rest of his family. What, did the demon like him or something? And why did feel like he was having a good time with the butler? Maybe it’s probably because he didn’t have someone to fill that father figure role in his life...

Flintheart + Black Arts

Now this is probably his first real employer, but that might not last long once he knows more about Flintheart like from what his mother would tell him. Then again, he got a glimpse of that first hand at Scrooge’s birthday party. Black Arts is really iffy about this loose nut as while he’s loaded, the things he tries to do are far out of any sane person’s range of commitment, and he feels like he should do the same.

Launchpad + Garbonzo

While they haven’t met yet, Garbonzo would find Launchpad to be really an oddity of sorts for how sunny he can be, but still like that about him. Maybe not some of the more oafish parts, but then again, he can be clumsy too at times with himself or others. However, he’s wondering how Launchpad has been helping Black Arts in terms of creating friendships with other people, and even more interested in whatever magic is surrounding Launchpad. It’s not normal, and it doesn’t seem like there would be any good to come from it either.

Launchpad + Brandon

Now this is an annoyance for the buzzard as he would really want to try and stay away from the clumsy pilot. A sunny personality like his is nice, but that isn’t what someone like Brandon deserves, and he knows it. So, the best way for them to still be them is to stay away from each other, as the more and more that Launchpad might be around Brandon, the more and more Brandon will try to push him away. Hopefully bringing to light that not everyone will be your friend, or want to anyway.

Launchpad + Rubber Chicken

Whenever Clovis will meet Launchpad, either OG or a new DT17 reboot, it’s most likely going to be that one tough but simple minded goof with his thin and nimble worrisome ward. Well, Clovis isn’t really the ward type, but you get what I mean. He’s most likely going to open up Rubber Chicken to taking on new dangers if he can get past tackling the fear of them, and have someone to talk to for advice whenever he needs it as Clovis is a nervous wreck.

#airborne-disaster #(This... is gonna be a long one. I left a few others out because I'm not sure if they would really get a chance to meet.)#(That or their dynamics might be a little too hard to mesh together.)#(But I also added in new ones that might be interesting if given the chance.)#(Finally done with this long list. And now I shall rest into Flame Core listening to that sick ass guitar rift.)#(Or Iblis's theme; whichever one.)#Out Of Soul (ooc)#An Adventure's no Fun if There's no Challenge! (Dewey Duck)#Undying Loyalty with an Interest for the Drama. (Duckworth)#A Mallard That's More Than His Armor... (Fenton Crackshell/-Cabrera/Gizmoduck)#I am the Terror That Flaps in the Night! (Jim Starling/Classic Darkwing Duck)#There's a Reason why Positives and Negatives Don't Mix... (Negaduck)#There's More to Magic Than Just a Hat! (Garbonzo)#Illusionist of the Arcane Arts (Black Arts Beagle)#When the Ends Justify the Means... Even if Terrible Things Happen Along the Way (Brandon Buzzard)#Stretchy Superhero; Anxious Chicken (Rubber Chicken/Clovis Clackenhoff)#Launchpad McQuack (airborne-disaster)#Falcon Graves (unforeseen-disasters)#Flintheart Glomgold (unforeseen-disasters)#Duckworth (unforeseen-disasters)

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