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523rdrebel · 2 months ago

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Masterlist Chapter 13

Chapter 14 - Morning Glow

Summary: Crosshair and Isabella spend a cozy morning together. Isabella and Desi have a heart to heart. Crosshair, Hunter, and Omega team up on a project.

Word Count: 2,595

Warnings: 18+, mildly suggestive (but no smut)

A/N: Um, Surprise! I'm not gonna get into detail, but this last year kicked my butt and really killed all of my creative motivation. It took some time, and is still in the process, but I feel I'm in a better place now. I received a little boost of inspiration lately, and was able to finish up some bits that have kept me stuck.

If it's been too long of a wait, if you've lost interest in the story, or if you simply don't want to be on the taglist anymore, please message me and I'll remove you. No questions asked.

Dividers by @/dystopicjumpsuit, @/snotbuggle, and @/saradika

Isabella started awake at the sound of her comm ringing, loud and obnoxious– and far, far too early in her opinion.

The mattress shifted and she heard a deep groan. Crosshair's voice was rougher than usual, “Ugh, don’t answer–” He was face down covered almost entirely in the thick covers, an almost disembodied arm reached blindly for the offending noise.

Kriff, that's sexy, the thought burned in her chest. Isabella dodged his aimless move easily, “It’s Desi. Could be an emergency–”

Voice still muffled by the pillows, he countered, “They’ve got it covered–” This time, he emerged from the covers, hair attractively mussed, leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to her shoulder.

With some effort, she resisted the urge to lean down and return the kiss and have a very different kind of wake up call. Instead, she angled herself just enough to keep Crosshair out of frame and answered the call, “Desi? What’s wrong? Is everything alright?”

The face of her dearest friend appeared on the holo, her face bright and full of energy, “Yes, Izzy, everything’s fine– wait.” She paused, squinting suspiciously, “Are you still in bed?”

“Mhmm.” Isabella nodded, hoping the fact that she’d just woken up would hide the renewed flush of her cheeks.

“Wow, two days in a row! That’s gotta be a record for you. Did Crosshair tie you down or something?”

Isabella coughed, catching Crosshair’s slight devious smile out of the corner of her eye, and shot Desi an intense glare.

“Oh, based on that blush maybe he should.”

“Anyway!”

Crosshair chuckled beside her and she shot him a wide eyed warning glare.

If Desi noticed, she said nothing. She clicked her tongue and grinned, “Alright, well, up you get! Get dressed. I’m on my way with pastries, but I still have to stop for the caf. You want your usual?”

Isabella gasped, almost choking on her own saliva, “No!” She yelled.

“No…” Desi scrutinized her friend more closely, “Izzy, you never say no to caf and pastries…” Movement drew her eyes down and to the side, Crosshair’s arm had wrapped around Izzy’s waist, pulling her closer. “Oooh! No wonder you’re still in bed.” Her eyebrows wiggled provocatively, “Chuckles, that wasn’t really what I meant by keeping her busy, but…”

Isabella could feel his cheeky smile against her back and he mumbled, “It worked, didn’t it?” Earning him a swift elbow to his side.

“I’ll meet you at the Cafe, Desi.” Izzy snapped out a quick goodbye and ended the comm. “You both are going to end me.”

Crosshair, arm still curled around her waist, pulled her in close, finding comfort in how she simply followed the tug of his arm and curled up against him once more. Later his mind would likely find some way to convince him he should be afraid of the closeness they’d developed, or how much he craved it, but for now he would indulge.

Shortly, and much shorter than either truly wanted, Isabella extracted herself from their tangled embrace, and the enticing warmth of the covers, and placed a parting kiss to his temple. She took her time getting dressed, taking care of all her hygienic needs, before turning her focus to fixing her tangled hair. She sat at her small desk which was situated in the corner across the small room. She leaned forward, staring into the small mirror and willing her curls into braids, then forming the braids around two large buns. In the reflection, she watched as Crosshair sat up on the bed. His hair was wildly messy atop his head and she had to bite her lip to suppress the heat building at the sight of him. His eyes met hers in the reflection and he arched an eyebrow at her. Caught!

She cleared her throat, ignoring the pounding of her heart in her ears, and said, “Feel free to make yourself at home… not that you have to just sit around waiting for me to come back. You can leave, if you want. But you're welcome to stay…too.” She looked down instinctively as she stumbled over her words, feeling slightly like an awkward teen talking to their crush.

When she looked back up, Crosshair rolled his eyes and stood, in two long strides he was behind her with a self satisfied smirk, “Hunter and Omega wanted me to come by to help with something, anyway. He thinks I'm avoiding him.”

“Are you avoiding him?”

“Only when he's being a pest…” Isabella stared pointedly at him and he shrugged, “So, Yes.”

She shook her head and stood, now finished with her hair, and reached a hand up to run her fingers through his curls “You've really let it grow out. I like it.”

He paused, thinking for a moment, then shrugged, “Hmm.” He glanced at the chrono and made a shooing motion, “Go on, don't keep Desi waiting.”

She nodded, gathered her things and took one last glance in the mirror before heading to the door, taking the leather jacket Crosshair had gifted her. She halted at the threshold and turned back around, biting her lip, “You– You could come back tonight… And stay. If you want.”

He hesitated only briefly, crushing the sharp tinge of fear in his chest, “Would you like me to, Bells?”

Her stomach bottomed out and she swore he could hear her heart thumping across the room. She swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded, unable or too afraid to say the words out loud.

“Hmm?” He smirked playfully, but his eyes darkened slightly.

“I'd like you to stay, Cross.”

A simple nod, “I'll be here.”

The Cafe was only a ten minute walk from her home. It was set on a lovely overlook of the West side of the island with a striking view of the ocean against the horizon. The owner, an elderly Twi'lek couple who’d lived on Pabu for three generations, had cultivated a lovely hanging garden for customers to sit beneath as they enjoyed their drinks. Izzy had chosen their favorite table beneath an aromatic array of florals and with a direct view of the waters below.

“Have a nice long night, Izzy?” Desi teased as Izzy took a seat across from her.

“You’re terrible.” She chuckled but leaned in and winked, “But yes.”

“Crosshair’s really brought out so much more of your personality, Izzy. I've missed that. And he seems as determined as I am to make sure you’re taking care of yourself.”

“Yes–yes, I get it. I’m bad at taking my own advice…” She sighed, leaning back and staring up at the flowers hanging above. It was a beautiful arrangement of colors against the bright blue of Pabu’s sky. The view always gave her a strange sense of nostalgic longing. She sighed, “Aren’t we a pair… First, he refuses to take care of himself and now he’s throwing my own words back at me.”

Desi mumbled under her breath, “Hm. Wonder what that could be like…”

“Listen–” Izzy sat up straighter, grabbing her cup with both hands, a soothing action.

“I guess the grump’s not too bad…” Desi chuckled.

Izzy’s eyes squinted, “Wait– that sounded almost like– approval. Desi, who are you?”

“I never said I didn’t approve! You have every right to be interested in whoever you want. I just wanted to be clear that if he hurt you I’d break his face.” Desi shrugged and her face softened as she spoke, “It did take some time, but I think he’s growing on me. It’s obvious that he truly cares for you, Izzy. And that’s all that I ask.”

She sipped her caf slowly, “Didn’t take you two long to gang up on me though…”

Desi huffed, “Well if you’d stop pretending every other person is more important than you, then we wouldn’t have to.”

The force of her words shook Izzy, guilt and shame souring the contents of her stomach.

Desi reached across the table, placing her hand softly over her friend’s. “I don’t think you understand how important you are to people– to me. And now to Crosshair.” She gave a gentle squeeze, “Izzy, you have people who love you and when you refuse to take care of yourself and prioritize every other person but yourself– It scares me. We’ve both lost enough family. I don’t want to lose you, too.”

Barely managing to hold back her tears, Izzy met her eyes, “You’re right, Desi, I’m sorry. I–I’ll try.”

“That’s all I ask.”

After a heavy moment of silence, Desi smirked, “Now, tell me about this date with Crosshair…”

Crosshair didn’t wait long after Isabella left before getting himself ready to go, aside from taking the time to brew a cup of caf, which he drank while he tidied the room. He located all clothing articles, his boots, and the bag he’d borrowed from Wrecker and made one last sweep of the room for anything missing or out of place. He still had a few hours before he was set to meet with Hunter and Omega, but he couldn’t stay. It was too uncomfortable being in her space without her there, even if she had invited him to stick around. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he didn’t belong here without her.

Finally ready to go, he sat for a moment on the end of the bed sighing to himself. Perhaps he had been avoiding Hunter… maybe. He didn’t particularly want to see that smug look on his face when he asked about Isabella. Kriff, I hate it when he’s right.

[A few weeks ago-]

“So– When are you going to stop brooding about her–”

“Hunter.”

“She’s shut herself up behind endless work. You're worried and you're taking it out on everyone else.”

“It's fine, Hunter. Keep your nose out of it.”

“Look, you need to talk to her. She listens to you. And then apologize to Omega… after your last lesson she came back in a rage mumbling about you calling her shots lazy and sloppy. She hasn't stopped practicing but to eat and sleep for days.”

“She's dedicated. That's good.”

“Crosshair… you shouted at her and she still hit every target. She's just a kid.”

“Fine. But not because you told me to… Because Bells is gonna kill herself if she keeps going like this.”

“Whatever you have to tell yourself, Cross.”

He had later “apologized” to Omega by gifting her a stabilizing attachment for her bow. It seemed to be enough.

Crosshair sighed, mentally waving away those thoughts, running a hand over his short curls, the feeling bringing a sudden warmth to his chest. Maybe I’ll keep it for a little longer, the thought. He took time to water the little struggling plant Bells kept in the kitchen and secure the area before leaving. He made mental notes of unsecured entry and exit points and resolved to talk to Bells later about fixing them.

It was a rare quiet walk to Hunter’s, a soft, warm breeze adding a strange sort of melancholy that Crosshair couldn’t put his finger on. So he elected to ignore it.

Before the house even came into view, Crosshair could hear Omega, she yelled something unintelligible at Hunter, followed by that unmistakable laugh. As he rounded the corner, Omega came running with a wild grin on her face, nearly crashing into him in her haste. Little menace.

“Crosshair!” She grabbed his hand and tugged, wasting no time with any further greetings.

He sighed but followed the tug of her hand. She led him into their yard, it was strewn about with tools, paints, and various sizes of brushes. Once there she let go of his hand and rushed off inside, leaving him standing awkwardly in the yard. Wonderful.

“You done avoiding me yet?”

Crosshair rolled his eyes, “Don’t be so dramatic, Hunter.”

Hunter ignored the dry comment, cocking an eyebrow with an infuriating smirk, “...How was your date?”

“Off limits.” “

He clicked his tongue, “What's not off limits?”

Omega burst out from the house with a startlingly familiar helmet, catching Crosshair's attention, “Where’d you find this thing, Kid?” He lifted it from her hands, rotating it slowly to get a good look. It was a standard issue clone cadet helmet.

She beamed up at him and pulled it back from his grasp, “Echo brought it back with him, said he thought I’d need it looking after you two.” She plopped it over her head with a dull ‘shunk’, “‘Sa little big, though.” Her voice was muffled within the helm.

He rapped his knuckles twice against the top, “You’ll grow into it.”

Hunter grumbled quietly, “-Rather she didn’t…”

Crosshair rolled his eyes and tapped the top of Omega’s helmet once more for good measure. “Didn’t you need help with something?”

Omega was spurred to action, grabbing Crosshair’s hand and pulling him to follow her, “Come here! I want to customize my armor– like you did, like our squad!” He was led around the side of the yard where splayed out on the ground were various small pieces of armor, not a full kit, but enough. Omega sized. Shoulder pauldrons, vambraces, leg and shin guard attachments, a chest plate, and the newest addition– the helmet. They’d all been stripped of any identifying marks or colors and it was obvious she’d spent time cleaning and caring for each piece.

She removed the helmet, holding it against her side, like a soldier. Hunter’s voice was clipped, “I tried to tell her she doesn’t need armor…” He crossed his arms over his chest.

Omega rolled her eyes and fixed him with a pointed glare, “Hunter, I’ve been captured by the Empire twice…”

He cleared his throat and huffed a heavy sigh, “Doesn’t hurt to be prepared...”

Her face lit up- victory! She bounced and ran back to gather the brushes and paint.

Crosshair leaned in close to Hunter, “Gave you the Tooka Eyes?”

“...”

“You’ve gone soft, Hunter.” Crosshair teased.

“She wanted you here, too. For this. Wanted us to work on it together.”

“...I'll check my schedule.”

Back she came, a chaotic whirlwind, with arms precariously full of small cans of paint and various sizes of paint brushes, “Tech and I made the rest of the pieces! What do you think?” She dropped the items in a messy pile, yanking a small item from the bottom and holding it out on display, “Oh! And Wrecker gave me this–” in her hand was a miniature Lula attachment, likely for a belt or bag, “He said it’s for disarming explosives!”

Omega was vibrating with excitement, jumping up and down, “We should update your armor, too, Crosshair.”

“My armor is fine…”

She leaned up, eyes sparkling and big as saucers, “Oh! Maybe Izzy can help!”

He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, “O-kay- Slow down, kid.”

Hunter didn’t bother hiding his laugh, earning a glare from Crosshair, then walked away towards the mess of paint supplies.

Omega became suddenly quiet, watching her brothers preparing the area for their joint project.

“What’s all this about, Omega?” Hunter had that concerned dad look on his face, “The armor, the painting, you’ve been training with Wrecker and Tech more. I know you want to be prepared–”

Omega squared her shoulders, “I don’t want my family to be forgotten… The Empire’s not going to stop, they’re not slowing down, and I’m gonna be ready. And when it happens I’ll have you all with me.” She kneels down next to the armor and touches the helmet softly.

Crosshair and Hunter remain silent for a long moment before locking eyes and nodding at each other. Hunter placed a hand over hers, “They won’t stand a chance.”

Ye Olde Taglist:

@jediknightjana @dangraccoon @wizardofrozz @freesia-writes @mythical-illustrator

@echoxbuggs @trixie2023 @ezras-left-thumb @sweetcream-coldfoam

@returnofthepineapple @wings-and-beskar @starrylothcat @secondaryrealm @arctrooper69

@littlemissmanga @wolffegirlsunite @sev-on-kamino @dystopicjumpsuit @idontgetanysleep

@followthepurrgil @clonethirstingisreal

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la-jolie-mln-posts · 2 years ago

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The Most Inspiring Story You Can Tell…

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The Most Inspiring Story You Can Tell is Your Own

What if you could leave a legacy to your children and grandchildren that documents your life? Not a written story, but a video that captures your growing up, great grandparents your kids never knew, births, funerals, an uncle lost to war, or that moment when your daughter and her dad walked down the aisle.

These thoughts were ruminating in Kerry Doucet’s mind, when two personal tragedies inspired the creation of Forever Yours Legacy Videos. “I’d been thinking about starting a video business focusing on life legacies when a friend was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. After many rounds of chemo and clinical trials failed, I proposed the idea of filming her. She agreed that recording a love letter to her young daughter and husband would help ease her own loss. Sadly, it never came to be. After a long hospital stay, she lost her battle.” Then in 2022, Kerry’s 84-year old father fell from a ladder, robbing him of his ability to speak. “This,” she said, “really motivated my decision to turn ‘what if into the real thing.”

Kerry started the company after a long career as a TV producer and broadcaster for Fox SportsNet, Comcast SportsNet and Fox 32. “I covered the NFL, NBA, NHL and major league baseball.” she said. “But when I had kids, I started working with Bill Kurtis on Through the Decades and finally segued to Start TV to work on an inspiring video series that focused on women who were the first to accomplish something in their field and had overcome adversity along the way.

Here’s what Kerry had to say in a recent interview with La Jolie MLN:

Q. What drew you to tell stories about families?

Kerry: Part of the work I did on Start TV included from-the-heart profiles on family histories, how they survived struggles like immigration, the Civil Rights movement, and where they are now.

Q. How did you come up with the idea for your legacy video business?

Kerry: While I worked in TV, it occurred to me that people have stories to tell. I sat down with my dad not long ago when my kids were young, and this led to a flood of emotions. I knew he had a sister and brother who died young. His brother died when he was a teenager and was laid out in the family room. My dad looked over the banister as an 8 year old to see his brother’s body. Being able to recount that story today is not within my dad’s reach with his speech problems, but I can narrate for him. It’s really all about four things:

Where you came from

What you overcame

What you were blessed with

What you want the generations that follow to know about you

Q. Does Forever Yours Legacy Videos offer more than one kind of story?

Kerry: Yes. We offer 7 different options:

Individual legacy

Couple legacy

Family Tree Legacy

Corporate Journey

Family Business

End of Life Celebration

Small Business Behind The Scenes

Our method doesn’t require you to answer a ton of email questions or do anything that feels like homework. It’s simply a half day spent in the comfort of your home or place of business, sharing your history. Then we use the still photos and some of the video footage you provide to round out the interview. Our mission is to capture your emotions and the power of your journey in a way that written words cannot.

More on Kerry and Forever Yours Legacy Videos at www.foreveryourslegacyvideos.com

La Jolie MLN: ”It’s our mission to give young ladies the lessons all of you can share with us. So, let’s share our experiences, strength and stories. I cordially invite you to join a cohort of empowered women. Please send your stories to [email protected]

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lunaartgallery · 3 years ago

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3/9/2022 [Updates]

TLDR: Mental Health Babble and new start.

I’m going to try to keep this short, hopefully my story can help others going through the same creative drought as me. The start of this year has been rough for me. Career wise, I’m doing great! I’m employed and will be for the rest of the year, financially I’m not struggling either.

So why did I have the worst mental break of my life last month?

Well I had a realization that came outta nowhere and hit my like a ton of bricks. I’m a pretty bottled up person, stubborn as mule. So I’m not surprised I did this to myself, but it still hurts. That realization was that I had lost passion for my stories, and thus had completely neglected my artistic soul in favor of my career for 1.5 years. As you guys know at the end of 2020 I suffered through an extensive burnout that took up the beginning months of 2021. Overworking, stress and exhaustion left a mark on me. And in 2021 I thought I had fixed it! Well...sort of. I got my career stuff in order, and managed the business side really well and dandy. Compared to 2020, I had my shit together. But I completely neglected my creative personal side, my stories, concepts and creativity. It wasn’t an artblock per say, I still drew a lot, but I drew for my DND campaign, which at the time I used heavily as a crutch for emotional mental support. In a sense I took the burden of having to be creative and dumped it on someone else, and just rode the wave. I couldn’t be bothered to be creative myself, not anymore.

That combine with working/sleeping/eating in an enclosed space for months on end, and not being able to go out due to covid, made everything just blur together in a grey mush. To be frank, I don’t remember 2021 at all, and the whole year just seems like a blur of time and work.

So what happened? I’ve been mentioning non-stop that I’m working on my storyboard portfolio and animatic for SKZ etc. In 2021 I had skillfully grown as an artist, so I knew this would be easy. I already know how to do it just had to actually do it....but I couldn’t. Everyday felt like a slog, things that would be easy and simple were taking forever. I restarted the animatic like 3 different times, nothing felt right. I had no motivation to be at my desk after hours. I didn’t have any ideas, and I hadn’t actually given thought to my stuff in a very long time. I found myself wondering what happened to the passion and drive I had not too long ago for my old portfolio in college. And it spiraled from there as I realized I had completely lost it, I had no more ideas left, I hadn’t actually written anything in a long time.

The artist soul is like a well, you take water out and then the rain replenishes the well. My well had completely dried out, It hadn’t rained in forever and I just kept taking water out till nothing was left. This combined with the other event going on Twitter with overworked storyboard artists all over the country crying in outrage for their mistreatment, going through extensive creative drought for years. This is a field I wanted to get into, and in the end the dream looked like a nightmare. I completely broke in a fit of rage and deep sadness. In the end I’ve never felt so hollow in my life. My friend likened it to heartbreak, I’ve never experienced heartbreak, but this must be what it felt like. I went through wicked mood-swings, and other irrational behavior.

So what now?

In general, I’m done. I’ve cancelled the animatic and portfolio plans. There’s no point in trying to scrap the bottom of the well. I’m going through self-therapy. I know what I need to do to get better, it’s going to take months. I’ve been through a similar journey when I first entered college, but damn does it feel like a tough and endless road is ahead of me. I have to go through everything all over again! I’m not giving up on SKZ, quite the opposite actually. But I’m taking things back to the writing room. I can safely say my other projects are done though, CHL and CUPP were always suppose to be one-shots, they have served me well. Bonafide is going to be a more a casual fun thing rather than my main focus. I want to start separating myself from DND and putting my own creative projects first. That being said HA, I have a shit ton of DND work from 2021 in my queue so yeah you guys won’t see much of a difference on a surface level. I need to start posting more! I’ve started to replenish my well by re-watching the things that have inspired me. I have gotten writing journals, and a new sketchbook to start doodling stuff again. I’m letting loose, and letting the “business” chains on my personal work go. I used to worry a lot about marketing, views and audience tastes, eh not anymore. I’m just going to be doing whatever I like, as long as it makes me happy.

Thanks for reading <3

#personal #updates

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doctenwho · 3 years ago

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Hangovers, Love and Space Vodka (PE Pt. 2)

Hello! Requests are definitely open, even if I’m awfully slow! I feel bad at how slow these are coming out especially since there’s so many in waiting, but writing just hasn’t been on the table recently. Apologies for that!

But I’ve found the time and the motivation, so I decided to get this done! Thank you for your patience! This is such a cute idea, and it always makes me happy that people like the first parts enough to request a continuation. I had a lot of fun writing it, so I hope you readers like it too!

So, please enjoy the continuation of Purest Expression (also, you should probably read that one if you haven’t already, this fic heavily references it!) Also, I just thought the name was funny and I was in desperate need for one, so feel free to suggest others if you’ve got one!

Warnings: Talk of alcohol, but no drinking!

Word Count: 4,050

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the talented creator!)

You didn’t really remember a lot when you woke up. All you really knew was you'd drank far too much of that delicious cocktail, and that your brain was pounding in your head. This was quite possibly one of the worst hangovers you’d had, but honestly, you’d do it all over again to have another one of those space cocktails.

You rolled onto your back, lifting your hands to cover your eyes in an attempt to block out what little light managed to stream into the room. Your stomach churned at the movement, but it settled out easily enough after you didn’t move a muscle for a few minutes following your roll.

You relaxed back into the bed when your stomach settled down, and finally uncovered your eyes, staring up at the ceiling with a bleary gaze.

As you laid there, you tried to piece together the evening. The bits and pieces between arriving and having enough to drink that you could no longer walk a straight line.

You knew you’d gone out on the town with the Doctor—he'd been excited to show you things. He'd raved enthusiastically about the planet, and you’d listened along as your own excitement grew too. Then, you remember finally stepping out of the TARDIS and being completely astounded by this new planet, with all its colours, music and general liveliness.

The cute little bar wedged between two buildings; you remember that too. And of course, you remember the cocktail—you'd had two, or three, or... had it been four? You couldn’t really pinpoint it. The Doctor had said it was weaker than earth vodka, and maybe it was, but the after effects were definitely more intense to a human that human vodka was. That said you’d still be down for another drink or two before you left.

It was well worth the pain of a hangover to taste that drink again. Just the thought of it made your tastebuds tingle.

You let out a light laugh before rolling back over onto you side, but this time following it up with pulling yourself to a sitting position. The nausea was still there, but hardly noticeable; just a subtle warning to keep your movements slow and steady lest you start gagging.

Your head was still pounding, but you knew that wasn’t going to go away without pain killers, so you stumbled to your feet to go find the Doctor. He’d have something that could help, and at this point, you didn’t care what planet it came from, so long as it killed the raging headache and... well, didn’t kill you.

You found the Doctor in the kitchen of all places.

He was perched at the kitchen table with a mug of coffee in front of him, as well as a book. He startled when you stepped into the room, breathing a light, “oh, (Y/N),” as a greeting.

You continued into the room, wobbling on your feet for just a second, “good morning,” you greeted in return, forcing a smile onto your lips despite the headache, “you don’t happen to have any pain killers do you?”

The Doctor frowned, “are you unwell?”

“Just a bit of a hangover,” you promised with a wave of your hand, “a little worse than an earth alcohol hangover, but it’s manageable. I’ll be fine, my head just really hurts.”

“Right, of course,” the Doctor nodded, pushing himself up and moving towards the cupboards. He rifled around the cabinets, reading labels of things and putting them back before he finally found what he was looking for, “these aren’t of your earth, but they are basically the same thing as your planet’s Advils. I’m sorry I don’t have anything that’ll help from your earth, I should really invest in some if I’m going to keep soliciting companions from earth.”

“Soliciting?” You snorted a laugh, which made you wince lightly, “really?”

“Well, I do tempt you humans away with the offer of the entirety of the universe, now, don’t I?” You smiled at the Doctor’s cheeky grin as he joined you at your side, setting the pill bottle in front of you to do with as you pleased, whether that was to ignore it, or take a couple, before he carried on to the counter. “No different really, I offer the universe in exchange for companionship, and I’m proud to say very few have ever declined. Now, would you like a tea, or coffee?”

“Jokes on the ones who declined, they’re really missing out,” you huffed out as you picked up the pill bottle, surveying over the list of ingredients. None looked too out of the world, but honestly, you’d do anything at this point to ease the thrum of your headache, so you uncapped the bottle, “surprise me.”

The Doctor turned back to flash you a grin from where he’d busied himself at the counter, “will do, my Dear.”

You shook a few pills into your hand from the bottle, eyeing them as if they were about to change colours or something similarly alien-like, but when none of that happened, you frowned, “how many do I take?”

“Well...” the Doctor turned thoughtfully to lean against the counter, “I’d say to start off with one and see if it does anything for you. There will be small differences from planet to planet, and we wouldn’t want you to overdose. After a half an hour you can try taking another pill if one doesn’t help.”

“Sounds good,” you popped a single pill into your mouth before you could hesitate. As if the Doctor was magic, he slid a mug of you go-to morning beverage towards you, and you washed the pill down with a sip of the perfectly prepared drink.

You savored the taste of your drink, sighing into the warmth. When you’d had a couple sips, you put the cap back on the pill bottle and slid the bottle to the center of the table. You watched the Doctor move around the small kitchen as he made himself another coffee before joining you at the table.

The two of you settled into a silence, thankfully. You hunched over the table, your elbows on the surface and your cheeks cupped in your palms, as the Doctor continued reading, but he looked like he was lost in his thoughts instead of actually reading.

“How long have you been up?” you asked slowly, squeezing your eyes shut before blinking them open again to see the Doctor’s gaze on you. “You’re kinda spacing out.”

“I’ve just... some things on my mind,” the Doctor admits with a tiny curl upwards of his lips. It didn’t really answer the question, but at the same time it did. You didn’t think the Doctor had even gone to sleep. “Has the headache eased at all?”

Your mouth formed an ‘o’ shape noticing suddenly that the headache was in fact almost gone. You hadn’t even realized, “yeah,” you informed with a laugh, “almost gone. I didn’t even notice—space things are so much better than earth things; the drugs and alcohol.”

“That would be a very worrying observation if I didn’t know exactly what you were talking about,” the Doctor snorted a laugh. You laughed along too, even if the statement was completely true—it had only been about ten minutes and the space Advil was already working wonders, where as the earth stuff could take anywhere from fifteen to thirty minutes to actually kick in.

“So,” you drawled after another string of comfortable silence between the two of you, “what’s been on you mind then?”

The Doctor eyed you up and down briefly before sighing, running his fingers through his hair and making his already untamed locks stand up at odder angles, “I was just thinking about yesterday.”

“Yesterday,” you parroted under your breath. You’d been thinking about yesterday too. How could you not be? There were still gaps in time where you don’t really remember what happened. “What happened yesterday?”

“You don’t remember?” The Doctor blinked.

“No, I do,” you leaned back in your chair with a sigh, “well, most of it, I think. But some of it... I don’t know? It’s kind of a blur. I guess the cocktails started hitting me towards the end of the evening, I barely remember coming back.”

“You were a bit out of it,” the Doctor admits sheepishly, “glad I cut you off at three drinks then.”

“I could’ve handled more,” you scoffed, smiling widely in a teasing way.

The Doctor rolled his eyes, leaning forwards, closer to you as his voice dropped, “I do believe three is probably your limit, Love.”

You let out a bout of bright laughter and the Doctor smiled softly. You loved how easy it was to banter with the man—how the two of you were so comfortable with the other that you could tease back and forth like this.

As if to prove his point, your head gave a warning thrum of pain that drew a shallow breath from you, “yeah,” you shook the pain off, “you’re probably right about three being my space-cocktail limit.”

The Doctor shook his head fondly at you as he settled back in his chair, “so, anything you’d like to know about yesterday? I did promise I’d tell you anything you’d like to know?”

You thought back to what you remembered about yesterday: the walk from the TARDIS to the bar, the ideal seating at the bar, those amazing rainbow cocktails that tasted like dreams. Drinking and chatting and laughing with the Doctor—splitting a plate of chips that were unbelievably delicious... and then... well, the space English the TARDIS didn’t bother translating for you.

“What was the bartender saying to you?”

The Doctor drew in a breath as his cheeks dusted the faintest pink, “nothing important, I assure.”

“C’mon,” you pouted, cradling your half drank, significantly cooled drink between your hands as you leaned towards the Doctor this time, “you said you promised to tell me about yesterday, right?”

The man chewed at his lip, subdued, but clearly trying to figure out the best course of action, “alright, well, we... I suppose we were acting a tad bit... involved? And... some assumptions were made about us by the barkeep.”

“Involved how?” you raised a questioning eyebrow. “And... what kind of assumptions?”

“Involved involved,” the Doctor cleared his throat, eyeing your level of understanding before rubbing his forehead and adding, “uhm, romantically involved. Those were, well, the main assumptions made as well.”

You gaped for a second before a thought came back to you suddenly, “he kept calling us lovers.”

“Yes,” the Doctor managed a light, fond smile, “I did try to explain it to him: us, our companionship—but, well, he... he didn’t believe me.”

“He didn’t believe you?” You repeated back, surprised.

“No,” the Doctor laughed, rubbing the back of his neck, “he made some pretty solid points in favor of us being romantically involved too, actually.”

“Oh yeah?” you teased, “and what points might those be?”

“Well, we were sitting fairly close--”

“As friends do,” the excuse came easily. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, but continued on like you hadn’t spoken.

“--I was hovering close to you, I suppose... A bit at least--”

“You were worried about me,” you interjected with a fond eyeroll at how wrong the bartender had been. Lovers? Come on, no way. You guys were... you were friends. Obviously. Though the thought of the Doctor hovering over you, making sure you were okay warmed your heart.

“--we leaned into each other’s sides, uhm, multiple times throughout the evening--”

You struggled for an excuse for that one, you did tend to lean into his space, not that the Doctor ever seemed to mind. And he liked to press into your personal space as well—neither of you really cared about proximity, so you managed a one shouldered shrug, “it was just loud in the bar, hard to hear each other.”

“--and, well, he pointed out I was staring at you occasionally; odd for him to have noticed, when I didn’t even realize I was doing it.”

You couldn’t come up with an excuse for that one, eyebrows furrowing in confusion that made your breath catch in the weirdest way. He’d been staring at you? Why did that make you feel so happy?

“And then the fact that you returned the stare when I wasn’t looking. Honestly, that barkeep spent more time watching us than he did working last night, I’m sure.” The Doctor let out a playful scoff, genuinely amused that the bartender had put more time into them than his job.

You however, were suddenly caught up in the information.

He’d been staring at you when you weren’t looking—fondly, you were sure, if it had caught the bartender’s attention and led him to believe the two of you were in a relationship. Then there was the fact that you were staring at him in return? You’d been caught by someone staring at the Doctor? You knew you did it sometimes, how could you not? He was a good-looking, kind, compassionate man who liked your company. Just being with him made your heart speed up.

“That doesn’t mean we’re a couple,” you forced yourself to say, even if... well, you were questioning it just slightly. You knew, of course, that the two of you weren’t a couple but... “That bartender was just bored and looking too far into us, I’m sure he was doing it to everyone...”

“Of course not, surely we’d know if we were, right?” the Doctor agreed with a light grin. The grin only lingered for a second before it faltered and he chewed at his bottom lip. You were about to question it, but he spoke again before you could, “but, well, I suppose there is the song he had to go off of as well.”

“The song?” You questioned before it all flooded back—well, most of it, at least, “we were on a stage. We... we sang together. Was that a karaoke bar or something?”

“We were,” the Doctor ducked his head in a nod, “we... did. And it, well, it was kind of like your earth karaoke bar. Do you remember anything about it?”

You tried to remember, you know the Doctor explained it last night after he’d gotten the information from the barkeeper, but you still don’t really know. And you’re sure there were bits and pieces that he didn’t tell you last night as well. So, you shook your head.

“Right,” the man nodded, settling his elbows on the tabletop as he held his chin up, “well, the concept of the song ritual we were roped into performing is that you sing whatever song best corresponds to what you think about your peer. I’m not exactly sure how it works to be honest, the expression through song is just strong.”

“So, whatever I felt about you would be... conveyed through a song?”

“Yes.” The Doctor gives a light nod.

“And whatever you felt about me would... would also be?”

“Indeed,” his head tilts as he surveys you, trying to piece together where you were going with this string of questions.

“But... we sang a duet, didn’t we?” You furrowed your eyebrows, running a finger along the rim of your mug. You faintly remembered chiming in with the Doctor’s song, instantly knowing the new lines to his song despite not knowing his lines, or the actual song. “Does that happen? What... what does it mean?”

“Well,” the Doctor cleared his throat, looking nervous. “It does happen, it’s just, well, it’s rare? I suppose. The barkeeper, just before we left, told me that the last time he saw a duet happen during the expression through song ceremony was when he was a child.”

“Wow, okay,” you bit the inside of your cheek. You had a feeling you knew what it meant, and the thought made your cheeks heat up, but you asked anyways, “what does a duet mean?”

“Well, generally speaking...” the Doctor shot you a small, crooked smile, “it means that we feel exactly the same way about each other. Exactly the same to the point that our expression would be through the same song, at the same time.”

“Wow,” you couldn’t help but repeat, “that’s... wow. So it really is unusual then? Why did it happen to us? Was it a fluke?”

“No, don’t think so,” the Doctor shakes his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as his fingers tap against the table, “something like that would be hard to fake, so I doubt it was a fluke. We chose the song—deep in our subconscious when thinking of the other... I mean... I didn’t know the lyrics beforehand, did you?”

“No,” you breathed out, fingers fiddling with your empty mug, “I don’t even think I remember the lyrics now. They were just... in my head when they needed to be. I didn’t even know your lines of the song. It’s weird that we were the people that got the duet—random visitors.”

“It was the same for me,” the Doctor sends you a small smile, “I think few people view their... companion the same way their companion views them. It seems highly unlikely that any two people can feel the exact same way...”

You’re not sure why, but there’s something different about the way the Doctor says companion this time around. Maybe he holds a different fondness than you’re used to, or perhaps some other reason, but there’s an unfamiliar warmth in the word.

“But we did,” you whisper, looking up momentarily and catching the Doctor’s eyes before dropping your gaze back to your cup.

“But we did,” the Doctor repeats, just slightly louder than you. Like he too can’t wrap his brain around it. There’s a pause before the Doctor’s clearing his throat, forcing a crooked smile onto his lips. “Well, I promised you we head to the shops for some alcohol and other treats, didn’t I?”

The Doctor stands, moving swiftly towards the door without looking back.

“I meant it, you know?” You speak before you even realize you’re speaking. You don’t see the Doctor stop, since you’re facing the other direction, but you hear his steps come to a halt, feet planting in spot.

He doesn’t say anything for a second, which prompts you on, “I do need you.”

He still doesn’t say anything, or move, so you stand and gather both your mug and his own, walking in the opposite direction from him towards the sink. You set the mugs in but don’t touch the faucet, instead mumbling a soft, “I want you.”

You’re not even sure if he’d still there anymore, or if he’d taken you moving as his cue to escape. You don’t turn to look, afraid to not find him there, so instead you whisper what little of your lyrics from yesterday that you remember, “come on back to me.”

Another moment of silence drags in before you hear the Doctor moving. His steps are quick, and you think he’s leaving out the door when suddenly hands are on your waist and he’s swiftly turning you around and gently pushing you against the edge of the counter beside the sink.

You manage to muffle your surprise as his lips press against yours, soft but urgently all the same.

You melt into his lips, eyes slipping shut as his hands leave your waist, one wrapping around your middle, as the other rises to cup at your jaw. It spurs you on too, your arms wrapping around his neck and pulling him just slightest bit close, to which he blindly follows your lead.

You don’t pull away until the need to breath outweighs how good it feels to be kissing him.

You both gasp for breath, but neither of you pull away, lips still touching the faintest bit, “I didn’t think you even remembered the lyrics... how... intimate the duet was...” It’s the first thing the Doctor’s said since trying to flee the room.

You slowly open your eyes, catching his eyes waiting to make contact and a smile pulls at your lips. You pull away a bit, pushing your forehead against his, “I didn’t really remember the lyrics until just now, but I never forgot the feeling of singing them to you, and hearing you singing them back to me.”

The arm around your waist tightens around you, “I didn’t know you felt the same way,” the Doctor whispers. “I didn’t want to... make you uncomfortable, or chase you away. And then you woke up this morning, and didn’t remember anything with the hangover, so I... was going to let it go.”

You’re sure you make a noise of protest, maybe even disappointment, but you only assume because the Doctor lets out a chuckle before stealing another kiss that you’re more than happy to give.

When he goes to pull back, you snake your hand up to hold him in place, mumbling softly against his lips the last of your lyrics, a message he’d sure to understand, “I love you sundown.”

The Doctor freezes against you pulling back just enough to look into your eyes before a smile creeps onto his face. You smile at his smile, watching him fondly as his head tilts in that adorable way, affection bright in his eyes, “and I, you, my Love.”

You melt at the words leaning into him and pressing your head against his chest, fitted perfectly under his chin like a puzzle piece. Your arms wrap around him, and his move to hold you against himself just as you had done to him seconds earlier.

You stay like that for a while—you're not sure how long. You feel protected tucked against the Doctor, and it’s a feeling you’re never going to forget.

“How’s your head?” he asks softly above you, the voice after so long of nothing by his steady heart beats startles you. The Doctor presses an apologetic kiss to the top of your head.

“Better,” you decide, nuzzling closer to him, “why?”

“Well, I did promise we’d check out the shops, if you’re feeling up to it.”

“I almost forgot about that,” you laugh, finally pulling away. The Doctor unwraps his hand begrudgingly, frowning as he does so. You let out a laugh, slipping your hand into his. “I wanna see the shops before we leave this evening. We’ve gotta get some of that vodka.”

“I see more hangovers in your near future,” the Doctor snorts as he leads you along by the hand.

“Oh, and, we should definitely pick up a gift for the bartender from last night,” you add, ignoring the Doctor’s teasing jab at your weak human alcohol tolerance.

“Why’s that?”

“Well, without his instance that we sing, and his instance that we were a couple, none of this,” you gesture down to your interlocked hands as the two of you step out of the TARDIS and onto the busy, colourful streets, “would’ve happened.”

The Doctor’s quiet for a second as the two of you fall into step. “There’s nothing in the universe that can ever thank him enough for what he’s done,” the man softly admits, giving your hand an adoring squeeze that drives his words home.

Your cheeks heat up as you tuck yourself in his side. He moves easily to accommodate you, releasing your hand to wrap his arm over your shoulders instead. You move your hand to squeeze around his waist, grinning as you respond cheekily, “I don’t know, Doctor, the space vodka is pretty good...”

The man sputters at your response, glancing at you with a raised eyebrow, “I was being all cute and you’re comparing the gift of our newfound relationship to vodka?” the man questions, genuinely dumbfounded.

You give a one shouldered shrug at his side, giggling at his reaction. It wasn’t long until the man was letting out a fond sigh, thumb stroking against your collarbone, “what am I going to do with you?”

The tease in his words has you smiling. There really is nothing in the universe that seems equivalent to the gift the bartender bestowed to you, but... yeah, a bottle of space vodka was a nice start.

<><><><>

Hello again! Hopefully you liked this continuation. Not sure if it kept to the prompt exactly, I got a bit carried away writing it, but nonetheless, I hope it was good! Feel free to prompt again if it wasn’t what you were looking for, as always!

I’ll try to keep up with the prompts but idk how well I’ll be able to manage between life and the other works in other fandoms. Anyways, hope you have a great morning/day/night!

#Tenth Doctor #tenth doctor x reader #tenth doctor x you #10 #10th doctor #10th doctor x reader #10th doctor x you #doctor who #doctor who 2005 #reader insert #dw #TARDIS #ten #writing prompt #writing requests #fanfiction #fanfic

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pemfrost · 4 years ago

Note

For bingo! How about parksborn with a secret relationship? Maybe with Harry scared his dad will find out, up to you 🤗

❤😊

Bingo fic 2/?

"Or, we could just… you know," Peter drew a small circle in the air with his index finger, "tell your dad about us."

For the first time in the 10 minutes they'd been on the subject, Harry stopped pacing through their living room apartment. Normally, Peter would take any win he could get- and calming Harry down would definitely be a win. However, the fact they were even having the conversation -again- was enough to overshadow any sense of victory. And, judging from the clenched fist at his side, Harry was not calm and only paused his nervous walking to stare incredulously at Peter.

"Tell him? Just- Peter!" He threw his arms in the air and resumed his pacing. "Do you know how hard I've worked to keep this from him?"

Peter maintained a neutral face and stepped into Harry's path. "We can't keep it from him forever."

Harry didn't protest when Peter pulled him close, but remained stiff despite the attempt at intimacy. "We've done great so far."

"Well, yea. It's easy to keep a new relationship secret at first, but it's not new anymore, Harry. How long can we keep up a lie?" His fingers dug into the back of Harry's sweater, clinging onto what he could of his boyfriend.

They'd been together nearly a year, officially anyway. At first it was easy to maintain Harry's desire for secrecy, to keep the media -even their friends- from finding out. Even though they had always been close, eventually people in their lives began to catch on. M.J, of course, was the first to confront them. But, when they moved into a new apartment together the previous month, the rest of their friends did the proverbial math.

"As long as it takes." Harry's breath was warm on Peter's neck. "With him officially out of prison, he's going to be around more. And- I can't deal with his disapproval. You know how he feels about us being friends- how do you think he would react to us dating?"

Peter sighed into Harry's hair and didn't respond.

___

The following weekend, Harry agreed to meet his father for dinner. For once, Peter didn't press the mater when Harry asked him to stay home, and for that he was thankful. Meeting with his father was always stressful, he didn't need an additional layer of worry.

Norman was not a subtle man. If he wanted something he asked for it. Or, as, was known to happen on occasion, he demanded it. Directly saying no to Norman Osborne was not something many people possessed the courage to do, and few were ever in a position to say no a second time..

For most of his childhood, even Harry was not immune to his father's intensity. He craved his approval and love. It was only when Harry befriended Peter that he realized what family could actually mean.

Now, Harry was in charge of the family business, and ran things differently. He expected their dinner conversation to revolve around his management practices, and the money he spent on community projects.

He hadn't expected his father to steer the conversation straight into the one subject matter Harry wanted to avoid.

"That- that is not necessary." Harry cleared his throat, partially regretting all the times he wished his dad would be more involved in his life. When he was younger, he just wanted him to show up to school events, his graduation, hell, even just listen to him talk about his day.

Perhaps his dad was trying to make up for lost time, but getting involved in his love life was crossing a line. He'd taken great care to keep his love life out of the press, and was being even more careful to keep it from his father.

"It's just a suggestion." Norman held up his hands over his empty plate. "I only meant… Harry, perhaps it wouldn't hurt to meet someone? Working so much… being alone…? It's not healthy, I would know."

"You weren't alone!" His fist slammed on the table as he stood.

"I know," Norman's voice was soft. "I know. I only mean…" he trailed off, then cleared his throat and tried again. "I know I didn't have to be alone. You were there, and I- I wasn't there for you. I don't want to see you make the same mistakes and purposefully be alone."

Harry studied a shadow on the wall, mulling over his father's words. He thought of Peter, and wondered what he was doing at that moment. "I'm not alone."

"Friends are different, Harry. What I'm talking about is-"

Harry gripped the edge of the table as he stood, leaning forward with the beginnings of a snarl. He wanted to yell, tell Norman that friendship was plenty satisfying to some people. Tell him he was happily dating someone. Tell him he didn't get to suddenly decide to be a father figure and offer life advice after years of neglect.

Yelling would definitely have felt good. Great, even. It wouldn't help repair the rift between them, and Norman was.. trying, in his own misguided way.

Harry released the breath he was holding and relaxed back into his seat. "I don't want to fight tonight."

Norman nodded and reached for the bottle of wine. "Agreed. I am sorry, I didn't know this would be such a delicate subject. Perhaps we can talk about something else?"

Harry accepted the offered wine, "Gladly."

"So, how are your friends?" Norman asked. "How is Peter? I've heard you're roommates now?"

---

"And then-" Harry dropped himself to the couch without any grace, "-he just had to ruin it all again!"

Peter slid next to him, scooting down to rest his head against Harry's chest. He wished he could have been there as a buffer between Harry and his father, but he had to settle for comforting him afterwards. "What did he do?"

"We were fine. Talked about my friends, and that book Ava recommended to me. And that art gallery we went to last month."

"Sounds nice."

"Yea, until he circled back around to the fact we live together." Harry couldn't keep the venom from his voice. They discussed it before Harry went over; it wasn't worth hiding their living… situation. It was common knowledge.

"Does he suspect-"

"He said having a roommate will hurt my chances of finding a partner. And that there are better ways to support my 'less fortunate' friends."

Peter didn't say anything. He couldn't, even if he wanted to; his throat constricted painfully as Harry's words reverberated in his head. He angled his face down so Harry couldn't see the unshed tears in his eyes.

"I told him to mind his own business and stop messing with my personal life then stormed out."

They remained on the couch for a while; Peter lost track of exactly how long they sat in silence. Eventually, they went to bed. Peter hummed and nodded the few times Harry said something as they changed for bed, but none of the words registered.

Sleep didn't find him for several hours, and when Peter woke up he was alone. It wasn't abnormal for Harry to leave before Peter woke up, he often had early morning meetings and snuck out as quietly as he could.

Peter groaned and ran a hand over his face. He still felt numb from the previous night and replayed the conversation over and over as he dragged himself out of bed and to the kitchen. The thought of eating made his stomach churn so he settled for instant coffee.

His laptop was on the table where he left it. He drummed his fingers on the table a moment before opening the laptop and leaning over as if to hide the screen from the empty apartment.

He loved Harry, of that he was sure. Yet-

Yet- he needed to have a very difficult conversation with Harry when he returned from work.

Peter sighed as he pulled up the website he'd fallen asleep thinking about. At the very least it would be cathartic to know what his options were should it come to it.

After some time there was a knock on the front door. Which wasn't rare, they had an elderly neighbor who often asked for favors- or brought over homemade treats.

"Good morning, Nancy I-" Peter sputtered as he opened the door, "Mr. Osborne! I- uh- good morning."

"Ah, Mr. Parker." He raised an eyebrow when Peter just stared.

"Um, Harry is at work." Peter wasn't sure what to do, but he erred on the side of caution and stepped aside. "Did you want to come in?"

Norman swept passed without hesitation. "Actually, I was hoping to speak with you."

Peter bit his cheek to keep from grimacing. Nothing good ever really came from them having a conversation in the past, and with his relationship with Harry on the line he doubted this conversation would break the pattern.

Norman made himself at home, either unaware or ignoring Peter's uncertainty. Peter wasn't concerned as he walked through the living room, Harry had been strict about not having any photographs of them outside of their bedroom. There was nothing to point to them being more than roommates.

"I had dinner with Harry last night and he-" Norman paused as he circled the table. In Peter's rush to the door he'd left his laptop open. "Apartment shopping?"

"Uh…"

Norman turned to look Peter over, his eyes hard and unreadable. "I see." He paused again before nodding once. "I spoke out of turn last night. I didn't intend for Harry to actually…"

"Oh. He told me a bit of your… concerns. This was my idea," Peter unfroze and crossed the room, closing the laptop in a vain hope to end the conversation.

"You've always been there for him." Norman glided over to their couch but didn't sit. He hesitated a moment before continuing, "You truly care about him."

Peter was skeptical of his motives. "He's my best friend."

"... Truly."

"You said you came to talk to me?" Peter stepped towards him, keeping the couch between them.

"That was all," Norman said as he slipped his phone from his pocket. He typed for a few seconds before nodding in Peter's direction. "I'll see you around, Peter."

Peter let him out and stumbled onto the couch, reeling from the odd conversation with Norman Osborne. Before he could contemplate it further, his phone buzzed in his pocket.

"Not a great time, Harry." He sat it next to him and let it ring out.

It rang again. And then a third time. Then, Harry sent a text. 'Call me asap'

Peter groaned, he still had so much to think about before he talked to Harry. Still, he called Harry back, concerned by Harry's sudden calls.

"Peter!" Harry sounded out of breath. "Shit, I was worried- I thought- Peter, I love you."

"Is everything okay? Where are you?" Peter didn't like the crack in Harry's voice.

"I just got in my car, I'm on my way home."

"Why? Did something happen?"

"Did- are you ok? What-"

"I'm sorry. Peter, I'm sorry. I didn't think- I can't- don't leave."

"Babe, calm down. What's going on?"

"My dad- he text me, said he stopped by to talk to you--" His breath hitched. "He said I should ask you out before you put a deposit down on a new apartment. Why are you- did you-"

"Harry. Hey- that's- I was going to talk to you tonight. But I-"

"So it is true? It's not something he made up to get his way?"

"I wanted to see what there was. I don't want to- I love you Harry."

"If you didn't want to move out then why look for a new apartment?"

Peter tightened his grip on his phone. "Because I- I was afraid of what- of how- I wanted to know my options. I can't keep living a lie. Pretending you're not the love of my life whenever we're-"

"Don't leave. I'm almost home."

"I'm not going anywhere. Hey, Harry?"

"Yeah?" Harry sniffled.

"I love you."

"Love you."

"And, hey, Harry?"

"Y-yeah?"

"Did your dad really tell you to ask me out?"

"..."

"Harry?"

"Oh my God. He did."

___

Thanks for reading! This one went way long too. I wanted some Norman trying to reconcile but still fucking it up but ultimately helping.

#pem writes #parksborn #harry osborn #peter parker

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zeetasposts · 4 years ago

Text

Vincent - Better together

Fandom: Ikevamp

Pairings: Vincent x Reader

Genre: Fluffffff

Words: 1100+

Comments: Eeeeep so ill let yall guess who this is for hehe! Eeeek so excited! Whooop Whooop! //dances around ❤❤ ❤😳🥺! 🥺😳❤🌈

.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’ .*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:。’･ﾟ｡.*:・’ﾟ: ｡.*:・’ﾟ:｡.*:ﾟ･’ﾟﾟ:

Oh, how you were truly a sucker for getting roped into all sorts of time-consuming tasks. You were too kind, honestly, and you worked far too hard. Your latest task? To grade the various exams of the learners attending the makeshift school founded by Napoleon and Isaac. To be honest, it wasn’t even your task to start with; it was fostered onto as the result of a bet lost.

Lessons had been learned the hard way, NEVER EVER challenge Arthur to a friendly wager, as you would be so lucky to leave with more than the socks on your feet. Regardless, the task allocated to him was now shifted to you, unfortunate really, but alas, what were you to do.

You sat at your writing desk burning that good ol midnight oil, clock tick ticking away. Naturally, neither Napoleon nor Isaac wanted to grade the students’ papers as that would be too biased—or that was the lame excuse they used—but you knew the truth.

Not that you minded this kind of work, it reminded you of your part-time job back home, the fond memories washing over you of helping out lecturers and students alike.

But this, this was different, this was hell! You must have read the first paper over and over, hells if you could only understand what was written. Chemistry, math, and the theory of relativity. Just how old were these kids, heck you studied these subjects at a university level and still, the words seemed like gibberish?

After the third paper, you were practically banging your head on the table in frustration; the least they could have done was given you a decent memo to follow. Losing all hope and succumbing to the darkness, it appeared as though the universe had heard your silent prayers and sent to you your very own ray of sunshine.

The soft knocks at the door were like a God sent, with Vincent peeking into your room, gentle blue eyes finding your own, ”oh, if you’re busy, I can always come back later,” his soft voice spoke with hints of hopefulness. 'NO NO NO, don’t leave me alone with these papers. I might just go mad', you wanted to shout out in desperation, but instead, you shot a weak smile over in his direction, gesturing for him to come inside.

“Nah, I’m just grading these papers, but if you are not busy, I’d love the company,” you offered, hoping, nay, praying he would stay. It had been a while since the two of you had spent some time together, with him being busy with painting and you, well, we all know Sabastian is a slave driver.

You mentally danced for joy when Vincent indeed did take up residence beside you, curious china blues gazing at the papers sprawled before you. “Need some help?” he offered, picking up one of the papers to examine the contents.

“How much do you know about maths and science?” you prompted

Vincent scratched the back of his neck, blue eyes never once losing their sparkle. ”Nothing! But I’m willing to learn or help out any way I can,” he affirmed cheerfully, tilting his head to the side, trying to decipher the string of numbers and letters.

His sunny features clouded over the longer he looked at the paper, and you could tell he was just as much out of his depth as you were.

Just then, an idea popped into your head, ”oh, I know! How about I mark, and you count them up and write the final score!”

“I can do that!!” he exclaimed happily, clouds dispersing and sunshine illuminating the room once more.

And so you marked and Vincent... drew?

You watched Vincent from the corner of your eyes, counting up the marks and charting them down in a little circle. His brows furrowed in concentration, voice barely above a whisper, letting go of a little sigh, “oh, this won’t do.” Honestly, his hands moved to their own accord sketching out cute little doodles next to the circled score.

You noticed he had been taking a while with each test handed to him, but you assumed he just double/triple checked his counting and final tallying of the scores. Not thinking much of it at the time, it was only after the last test was marked and handed off to him that your eyes dared to drift across the table to see what he was up to.

They widened slightly in surprise as you struggled to suppress the smile tugging at your lips. “Cent? What are you drawing,” came the curious question, after watching him doodle out the smiling sunflower with the words’ Good Job’ neatly written beneath

Vincent’s face bloomed into a bright smile as he proudly held up the newest motivational doodle, “well,” he started to trail off, “you know how some of the students did really badly?”

You nodded, humming thoughtfully as you urged him to continue,” I just thought it would make them sad to see they did so terribly, so I decided a little sketch might cheer them up.”

Oooh, bless his little angel heart, for only Vincent could be so sweet. You smiled back at him, eyes falling to each of the papers to take in the various little motivational sketches and messages left for the students to find. Although soon, your eyes found one test in particular that piqued your interest.

A test in which the student managed to score a near-perfect score, you held up the paper in confusion, “but, what about this one?”

“Ah, well, you see, I thought it would make the students who achieved top scores happy to receive a little sketch in acknowledgement of their hard work,” he continued to beam with pride.

You chuckled, shaking your head, “so what you’re saying is everybody gets a doodle?”

“Jip”

You almost had to laugh; it reminded you so very much of an Oprah show. You get a sketch; you get a sketch; everybody gets a sketch. “You are honestly too cute, Vincent,” you beamed at him, collecting the paper into a neat pile, shaking your head with a chuckle.

Vincent returned your smile with a sunny one of his own, taking your hand in his and squeezing it affectionately. “You are the cute one,” he said in all seriousness, bumping his shoulder against yours playfully.

You rested your head against his shoulder, closing your eyes and simply enjoying the moment. After a few seconds, you peeked your eyes open to gaze up at him, “hey, vincent? Thanks so much for helping.”

With a brush of his soft lips against your forehead, he spoke tenderly, closing his eyes as he reaffirmed his love for you. “I promised you, didn’t I? Whenever there is a problem, I will always be there to help find a solution together.”

#ikemen vampire vincent #vincent fic #vincent van gogh x reader #vincent van gogh #vincent x reader #ikevamp vincent #vincent

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medusinestories · 4 years ago

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Onwards to the episode in which we get to see Flint and Silver each having a very bad day (as well as two literal dicks that nobody had asked to see).

Black Sails VII (s1 ep07)

- We open on Pastor Lambrick's sweaty face as he intensely rehearses the Easter sermon and he’s obviously eaten up by what he did with Miranda. His sermon, unsurprisingly, focuses on sin, keeping sin hidden, and the hell that awaits the sinner. Which leads us nicely onto Flint, who’s distracted (by his own sin? by thoughts of Miranda? both?) during a meeting with Eleanor. Eleanor is pissed that Miranda let Richard Guthrie send a message to the Andromache and then waltz into town to close up his business; Flint tries to take the heat off Miranda, once again protecting her (at this point, he may not know the contents of the letter).

- During this meeting, Flint is startled when Silver first speaks up to say that the mob in the street was bad - clearly Silver is a sort of intruder in this meeting. But Eleanor, after Silver reminds her by unsubtly clearing his throat, tells Flint that he’s not to harm Silver because he was instrumental in setting up the Consortium. Silver looks so pleased with himself in these scenes, and Flint quite defeated when he tells Silver to follow him back to their camp. I love it.

- To parallel Flint/Miranda’s Sulky Sex scene from ep4, we have Anne/Rackham’s frustrating/disconnected sex scene. It shows us a few things about them mainly that Anne wants to keep a lot of control over what happens, hence Rackham being tied up (though of course this might also be his kink), her wearing a shirt that covers up most of her body, and the reverse cowgirl position that means that she’s both in control of what happens and completely avoids eye contact. The position reminds us of the Flint/Miranda scene, where Miranda was also on top, but their scene involved more eye contact (yes glaring counts, he’s still intensely focused on Miranda), gentle touching (on Miranda’s side) and her being naked and open to him. Another parallel is that both Flint and Rackham aren’t in the right frame of mind for sex, Flint being angry and Rackham lost in a sea of worries (and probably also somewhat angry/disappointed at Anne for forcing him into the plot to kill their crewmates). The difference between Flint and Rackham is that while Flint doesn’t seem to have any trouble performing, Rackham is miles away and doesn’t even notice that he’s lost his erection - again. Anne is frustrated by this, and apparently knows him well enough that she offers to put something up his arse, but he’s clearly not in the mood, and she leaves in a huff, abandoning him all tied up as a sort of revenge for his performance problems. Whatever the problem is between them isn’t put into words (because Anne can’t yet, for starters), unlike the one between Flint and Miranda. The intimacy between Rackham and Anne, so often described as close partners, seems much more distant to me than the one shown between Flint and Miranda. I’m not sure whether it’s because of anyone’s sexual orientation, or just the fact that they’re fucking but they’ve never discussed the big important things, such as Anne’s identity/feelings/etc.

- In this episode, Dufresne gains a lot of power: with a freshly (and badly) shaved head and a new tattoo, he’s been promoted to Quartermaster on the Walrus in Billy’s place. And very quickly he has a problem to deal with: Randall revealing that Silver stole the page. Gates had actually already told this to Dufresne, as is revealed at the end of the episode, which might explain why Dufresne is relatively calm during the whole conversation, while DeGroot wants Silver and Flint hanged and Howell is surprisingly ruthless: he brings up the idea that it may be better to kill off Randall in order to get to the treasure, if they can’t make sure he’ll keep quiet about Silver being the thief. Dufresne is actually quite kind towards Silver in the scene where he puts Silver’s memory to the test - a test that could result in his death if he fails it and that Silver constantly grumbles against (I love his grumbling!). Basically, at this point Dufresne remains quite a sympathetic character, which will change a lot as the show goes on, especially after Jannes Eiselen had to leave the show (such a sad story, RIP Jannes).

- In the meantime, the Flint and Gates relationship is crumbling. It's sad to see, especially since they're shown sharing chuckles as they talk about Dufresne's appointment in the beginning of the episode. But then Gates brings up the subject of Miranda and demands explanations about the letter Billy found. We're not shown exactly what Flint answers, but it's clear that he's actually trying his best to give him an explanation without incriminating Miranda too badly. The sad thing is that Flint is actually telling the truth: he actually wasn't involved in any betrayal of his crew and and can only guess at Miranda's motivations. But the fact that he's lied time and again in previous situations, including on the Maria Aleyne where he claimed Lord Alfred drew a weapon on him (and Gates secretly verified that this was a lie), and used men as pawns to advance his and Miranda's plans, is now catching up to him. Flint seems truly hurt when Gates accuses him of using the men for his own purposes, and turns spiteful, telling Gates that he should have been "a better father" to Billy and helped him "understand the world he was living in" (suggesting that such a forthright character as Billy can't really survive in a world of pirates who are all ready to stab each other in the back). After that slap in the face, Gates says he's exhausted from Flint and threatens to take it to the crew. Somehow, this pushes Flint to bare all: he tells Gates about his plan to keep a part of the treasure and use it to build up Nassau, depicting himself as a sort of saviour, doing it for the men's good: they'd rather be rich men in a safe place than dead thieves hanging from a noose. Gates sees this as delusions of grandeur, and tells him that while he'll see the Urca plot through, after that they're done. I actually think he sees Flint’s point, since he doesn’t just throw him to the crew, but won’t admit that out loud. The whole of this scene hurts bad, because you can tell that Flint is desperate and sad to be losing his closest ally and friend, and that Gates is hurting from the loss of Billy and exhausted from the toxic relationship he has with Flint, where he's played enabler to his manipulations for years.

- While Flint and Gates’ alliance is breaking, Silver has to forge one with Randall or die. Randall finds out in the beginning of the episode that he’s been voted out of the crew. This is apparently due to DeGroot’s fears that Randall could be a fire hazard, which the crew took disproportionately to heart. Randall is furious with Silver, who smugly tells him that in these situations, a setback often comes with a new or unexpected opportunity. He’s right, but at this point he doesn’t know that he is the opportunity Randall’s going to latch on. Randall reveals that Silver is a thief, and Silver denies it, saying that Randall is both a halfwit and was in a haze of opium when he heard what he thought he heard; he even tries to convince Randall that he was mistaken (this, my friends, is gaslighting). However, by revealing that Silver was the thief, Randall sets a chain of events into motion which could either end with his death (if Howell has his way, since Randall is an inconvenient witness) or Silver’s (if DeGroot tips the balance, not trusting Silver to remember the coordinates and not wanting to sacrifice Randall for nothing). Silver figures out that these are the outcomes, and tries to talk sense into Randall by making a deal with him: he’ll care for Randall and make sure he can stay on the ship. But it’s only when Silver finally admits that he is the thief and that Randall was right, that Randall accepts the deal. Later, Silver realises that Randall might have orchestrated the whole thing: he’s now got Silver to serve him, doesn’t have to take any risks on the ship, and gets to remain with the crew. Silver wonders if Randall is a genius rather than a halfwit (a word thrown about a lot to describe him). And it seems quite obvious, considering what happened, that Randall still has strong survival skills (an amputee with impaired cognitive skills doesn’t stand a chance of survival outside a crew and he must be aware of it), that he still has a good memory and an ability to pick out useful information and that he’s aware enough of what’s going on to be upset by the crew’s rejection and Silver’s attempt to gaslight him. I think it’s important to recognise that Randall is more than a comic relief or a grotesque character: he’s a disabled man who's lost parts of his cognitive ability and is struggling to survive.

- This episode focuses on Vane facing his past. He seeks out the island where he grew up and its master, Albinus. I’d forgotten or never really registered that Albinus was a pirate and that the men who work for him were mostly his crew - and likely slaves (or children, hence Vane?) that he managed to capture/press into service. He’s retired from pirating and set up a system where his men cut down trees for timber all day, without wages. It’s not clear exactly how he holds so much power over these men, although it seems that everyone is terrified of him. He’s extremely strong physically, seems shrewd, speaks rather well, and his tattoos suggest that maybe he’s involved in some kind of ritual (truly religious or just for show?) which would make him all the more scary to superstitious people. Vane is clearly still frightened: he barely makes eye contact and practically stutters when he first tries to make the deal with Albinus, which is that he’ll take some of Albinus’ men as crew and send Albinus part of their earnings as tribute. It says a lot about Albinus that Vane, after years of having run away, is still so scares that he’s willing to pay him a tribute. But he changes his mind as he stares at a boy bearing the same brand as he does: he tries to persuade the men that Nassau is a pace of pleasures rather than hard labour, and confronts Albinus. The fight is brutal and ends with Vane buried naked, just after Albinus tells him that he’s proud of him. But of course Vane wouldn’t be Vane if he didn’t rise from the dead at the last minute and kill Albinus, goaded on by his inner Eleanor voice.

- In the meantime, Mr Scott returns to Eleanor, apologising for what he did, telling her he betrayed her out of love. However he also reminds her of his slave status: technically, he belongs to her. The argument upsets her, and he quite cleverly uses this moment to ask her to free the slaves who were on the Andromache. And it works: by the end of the episode, she’s made arrangements for the men to work on ships and has bought the women’s freedom and found them jobs in her tavern. But Mr Scott has still decided to leave Eleanor to join Hornigold’s crew, to refrain from meddling with Eleanor’s affairs, since he disagrees with her so strongly re: the Urca. Hornigold approached him earlier in the episode, and the introduction to that scene is quite interesting: Hornigold says to Mr Scott “I’ll need to know your secret” and Mr Scott looks startled and frightened. It seems that he’s startled because he’d been giving food to the slaves, but in light of S3, it could be a much greater secret that’s being referred to. Mr Scott is relieved when he realises that Hornigold is simply talking about tolerating Eleanor, who he clearly can’t stand.

- Flint’s bad day continues, of course, with the big confrontation he has with Miranda. He’s furious about the letter (of which he now knows the contents thanks to Gates), telling her that it could have got him killed, or destroyed the plans they’d made and asking her whether she was trying to embarrass him. This sounds so weirdly petty, and yet it also sounds exactly like the kind of argument that would come up in a bickering couple. Miranda answers that she was trying to help him out of that life, because she wants to move on. This is where Miranda utters the famous “there is no life here, there is no joy here, there is no love here”. I noticed that, covered by Flint yelling at her, and distorted because her voice has gone very shrill, Miranda says another line, which sounds like “you used to love, then”. If that really is what she says, it’s extra-extra-extra heartbreaking to hear (if someone wants to check it for me, it’s around 35:40). It’s obvious that Flint and Miranda’s views on life are very different, and I can’t help but think back to the fact that, as a carpenter’s son from the country, Flint has had to struggle all his life to become who he is. So when he says that you can’t get a life without having a war, and Miranda tells him he’s wrong, she’s speaking entirely from the point of view of her privilege. She’s never needed to fight as hard as he has to be happy, because she got extremely lucky in marrying Thomas. And when she says that Thomas would agree with her, I’m certain she’s right. But life has never been like that for Flint, and there’s no way he’ll ever entirely agree with their point of view. Rewatching this scene is tough, btw, because they both have great points, they’re both hurting so much, and there’s so much to take in between the body language, the facial expressions, the tones of voice and the actual words that it’s a whole whirlwind. And it feels very, very real.

- It’s absolutely hilarious to see Rackham get robbed by the whores taking advantage of his lack of knowledge (and research). He should absolutely have done a better job and has no clue how to run a brothel. He’s lucky Max takes things in hand after having heard from Idelle that the girls were taking advantage.

- Then we have the beautiful Drunk Flint scene. Eleanor notices him feeling very sorry for himself after Gates has pretty much broken up with him and he’s still reeling from fighting with by Miranda. I think Flint feels very misunderstood here. He thought that he was doing something good, to save Nassau and avenge Thomas, and doesn’t understand why they can’t see it, why they only see the terrible methods he uses to reach his goals. So he’s full of doubt, clearly wondering if he’s the villain of the story, and puts the question to Eleanor: is their plan worth it? Eleanor is the only person who still believes in him, which leads us to the only scene that I would ever call straight-baiting. Flint hovers near Eleanor, breathing heavily, and a variety of emotions play over her face during this moment of tension, as she seems to think this is leading to a kiss. It does, he gives her a chaste little forehead kiss and leaves. All the elements are in place to make your average viewer start shipping these two. I actually find it hilarious that the ship barely exists in the fandom (though I wasn’t there in the beginning of the fandom and I guess the viewership changed a lot between S1 and S4).

- The scene with Flint and Gates glaring at each other from their respective ships and Parson’s Farewell playing in the background... epic! We know this is the beginning of a big struggle between them, especially since we find out that Gates has pretty much decided that he’ll hand Flint over to the crew once they get the money. But nnnnggh that scene! The ships leaving on their hunt! Awesome and heartbreaking!

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tohokuu · 3 years ago

Note

Anon ask time:

I'm a writer on here and im pretty notorious on getting things out late and I feel bad or it especially when it's a request.

But no one talks abt how it's just hard sometimes to be a writer on Tumblr. Like i worked my ass off to get only 500 followers and then an anon that reached out to me and asked for advice posts like three works and gained 1k followers in a month. I'm v happy for her and everything but it feels unfair sometimes. And i just want to be a big voice in the ateez fanfic community and have people recognize that im a good writer and be like you or hongism or pk but when you post something that you spent all this time on and for it to only get 10 likes is very disheartening.

And I have been revamping old works too but it still is so hard

ahhhh my love, it’s okayyyy

let’s pretend i’m letting you cuddle into my arms and i’m stroking your hair gently 🤗

now, PLS don’t compare me to caly, shes huge 😭 but that’s also like the biggest compliment ever, do not make me cry at 6 AM

the biggest thing about ANY hobby that ppl fail to realize is that it’s not supposed to be a job. it’s a hobby, you do it when you feel like it. i haven’t been able to paint in over a year, i feel like i’ve lost my artistic talent, but when i look back at my old pieces i’m like.. holy shit i drew that ??

or, DEAN ? if you know who he is, he hasn’t released music for maybe 2-4 years now ? people ask for more music but no one realizes how difficult it is to produce art. it’s difficult to put your brain together and find something satisfactory enough for your audience. writing is the same way. it’s art. it’s talent. sometimes it doesn’t flow in your head properly and it’s difficult to produce stuff.

and don’t ever feel bad for being late to a request. you’re not obligated to answer anyone. what are they gonna do ? tell their mom ? 🙄

and sometimes it is hard to gain followers. my old blog only reached around 570 followers before i just gave up and made a new blog. i had decent amount of works up there but it didn’t make much of a difference.

maybe a blog change could help ? a new environment often helps (that’s what all my friends that constantly change blogs say)

and maybe with recognition, it’s also a matter of tags. tags make a BIG difference. i changed some tags for my fics and it made my fics grow. tumblr ever only puts the first 4-5 tags to use and you gotta use the ones people will go for the most. it’s bit of a marketing situation as well

and i understand where you’re saying that it really burns you out when you work so hard on a fic and it only gets 10 likes :( that can be upsetting. but tumblr is literally a gamble, not everything will do well. many of my fics that’s i write don’t do well. my angst fics never do well and i have a couple of those. my fluff fics aren’t all that popular either.

my melanie series; even tho i worked hard and completed it, if you look at the individual works, there’s not many notes on it. and it’s not just me, it happens to every writer. i spoke to caly (hongism) a couple months back and she told me that a lot of her kinktober works didn’t get the most recognition, so really, tumblr is just a gamble

and also, notes don’t really matter when you’re doing something you love. if it soothes your heart to write, then fuck notes. i understand that notes and comments can be a motivator too, but that’s the readers job, not yours. us writers do our best to get our readers to reblog our work and leave comments, some listen and some don’t

and there’s also a target audience. most people consume the horny stuff, so other genres don’t often get the same love

i’ll be back with some business strategies later and you can drop another ask, or i’ll make a general post abt it

i’m started to get late for school now so i gtg 😭 if there’s anything else, my ask box is open

#hades asks {💡}#anon honesty hour {🍷}

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djemsostylist · 4 years ago

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This is not Eda Yildiz's Story...

With SCK’s return in season 2 and this highly polarizing plot, I’ve seen a lot of talk and debate about plot and character and the direction of the show. I’ve complained enough on my tumblr that I think it’s pretty obvious where I stand, but lately I’ve been thinking less about what I hate and rather why it doesn’t work. Like it or hate it, I think we can all agree that the plot and direction of the show is strange. The story has been a mess, arguably, since the early teens. Once we’d finished Ayse’s initial arc, it was clear we were moving into “plot” controlled territory, and that trend continued. I don’t think anyone can deny that the new story follows a similar narrative “shift” that seems to have dominated the story since the 30s. It feels different, and I think that feeling has continued even with the return of the original writer. It sort of crystallized for me when I was watching one of summer’s new show, Cam Tavanlar. 40 minutes in and we had yet to meet the male lead, and it was then that I realized that’s it.

I’ve seen a lot of talk about how feminist SCK is, and how this is “Eda’s” story. Fans have long asked the question “when is Eda going to graduate?” and it’s a valid question if Eda is our main character, since that is one of her two primary motivations. It's worth noting before we begin that I like Eda--I loved her for the first 28 episodes, her portrayal by Hande is excellent, and she is a fun and easy character to love. But rewatching the early episodes of the show and then watching Cam Tavanlar made me realize the issue at hand: this isn’t Eda’s story, and she is not, nor has she ever been, the main character. The story of SCK is the story of Serkan Bolat--I just don’t think anyone realized it.

Let’s think about Eda for a moment. When we meet Eda, she is a down-on-her-luck college drop out. She’s lost her scholarship and is stuck working at her aunt’s flower shop until she figures out what to do with her life. From the first episode, we learn a few things. She has two main goals--graduate, and be with the man she loves. We also learn a little about her character--she is determined, strong-willed, stubborn, impulsive, kind-hearted, and loving. She believes in seeing the best in people (unless their name is Serkan Bolat), and she values family and friends above almost everything else. Her introduction shows her as slightly frazzled, a little overwhelmed, and very young.

Over the next 11 episodes, we learn surprisingly little else about her. These are the things we know:

She lives with her aunt after her parent’s untimely death which affects her to this day.

She blames her grandmother for their death and is scared of her control.

She and Melo have known each other since they were children.

She works with orphans and loves the idea of helping children.

She loves plants and flowers.

She likes dogs.

She has plans for two children someday.

She wants to study in Italy.

She used to own a charm bracelet.

She is claustrophobic, which is likely connected to her fainting when she is stressed because of a claustrophobic situation when she learned of her parents’ passing.

What we don’t know could fill books. We don’t know exactly why she blames her grandmother for their death. We don’t know if Eda actually knows/has met her grandmother after her aunt took her and left. We don’t know how she met or knows either Ceren or Fifi. We don't know why she wants to be a landscape architect, or what drew her to want to study in Italy. We don’t know why she never pursued any other options when she lost her scholarship. We don’t know how she got the scholarship in the first place (grades, essay, project, some combination?). We don’t know her long term goals other than graduate and get married. Does she want her own company, is there a project she really wants or a company she would love to work for? We don’t really even know her feelings on relationships and marriage. How long did she date Cenk? How did they meet? What did she hope for their future? We don’t know anything about her childhood or how she was raised, and we aren’t even that clear on her relationship with her aunt, since it vacillates from almost no guidance at all to extremely controlling and manipulative. The point is, Eda is still, even 39 episodes in, more a collection of traits than a fully realized character.

Eda starts Episode 1 as a headstrong, independent, impulsive, kind, strong-willed, determined woman who wants to graduate and be with the man she loves. She ends episode 12 exactly the same--different man, same goals, same traits. She ends the way she starts.

The next 12 are the same. Eda starts as a headstrong, independent, impulsive, kind, strong-willed, determined woman who wants to graduate and be with the man she loves. She ends episode 24 the same way. This time, everything is the same as it was 12 episodes ago--same man, same goals, same traits. Again, what changes does Eda truly go through in these episodes? Any? Does she learn to think before she acts? Does she learn to temper her stubbornness? Does she define her future goals?

Let’s look at Serkan Bolat. When we meet Serkan, he is the successful CEO of an architecture firm returning from a business trip. His main goal--his only goal--is to achieve success and recognition in business. We also learn a little about his character--he is a stubborn, strong-willed, independent, closed-off man who prioritizes work over everything. He believes love is a fairy tale, and that all relationships are ultimately contracts no different from work contracts. His introduction is calm, cool, collected, and in control.

Over the next 11 episodes, we learn A LOT about Serkan. We learn:

He had an older brother he was very close to. His brother was the golden child and the center of his family, who was a musician. We learn that Serkan was very close to him, and that his brother’s death rocked the foundations of his entire family.

He was sent away by his father to boarding school at an early age because his mother had a mental breakdown and couldn’t cope and his father wasn’t capable of handling it.

A lot about his relationship with his parents, their goals and expectations for him, and why he is so closed off and has a hard time making meaningful connections as a result of how he was raised.

That he has wanted to be an architect since he was a child, which is how long he has loved magic and the stars.

He studied astronomy in college.

He believes in supporting the education of young people.

He rescued his dog.

He moved home to be close to his mother who suffers from agoraphobia.

Where he met all of his close friends and enemies.

His feelings on relationships and marriage.

His fears and insecurities.

His hypochondria.

His various talents (horseback riding, car racing, swimming, guitar playing).

In fact, there is very little we don’t know about Serkan Bolat.

Serkan starts episode 1 as a strong-willed, closed-off, business minded asshole who believes all relationships are contracts and doesn’t believe in love. He ends the first 12 as a more open, giving, softer version of himself, who believes in love and the importance of a relationship and whose goal is no longer just to be a businessman, but to prioritize the needs of the woman he loves over his own.

Over the next 12 episodes, we see Serkan learn to navigate what it means to be in a relationship--to learn to trust, to give and take, to let go of control, or let his feelings guide him, and to be open and honest with what he feels and how he loves. We go from a Serkan who couldn’t say the word “love” when talking in private to his best friend and thought apologizing by email was the best choice, to a man who can sit in a room full of people and declare openly his love for the woman beside him. When the series comes to a close in 28, we have a Serkan Bolat whose priority is love and family, and whose main goal is to become a husband and father.

Serkan, from episodes 1-28, experiences an entire arc, from consummate businessman to family man. He goes from closed and cold to open and warm. From a man who can’t even bring himself to explain that he doesn’t love his ex-girlfriend, to a man who can openly sit and talk about how much he loves his fiancee. He goes from a man whose friends drift around the periphery of his life, to a man whose newest friend is a former business rival. He grows and changes and develops, and each of the storylines, from the fake contract in 1-12 to the breakup in 13-24, to working towards marriage in 25-28, all bring this about.

Even the story is shot to show us Serkan's pov. How many times do we see Eda through his eyes? How many times do we get to focus on Serkan and his reactions, whether it’s to Eda, to news, to his feelings? Think about it. If the story is really about Eda, then all the focus in the teens should be on Eda. And while we certainly see her reactions, the story is squarely centered on Serkan and his feelings. 13 is about his relationship with his father, dealing with his company in crisis, and making the choice to go to Italy with Eda. 14 is about him coming to grips with the news and deciding what he wants to do. 15/16 are watching him deal with the fallout and the loss of Eda in his life. 17 is about his fears and hopes for children and a family with Eda. 18/19 are him coming to realize how desperately he wants and needs her in his life. Eda gets reaction time sure, but she’s not the focus--Serkan is. Think about the episodes I just described--what does Eda really do in any of them?

Even their family and friends. Eda’s life is filled with people who are less characters and more set dressing for her story. Ayfer begins and ends our series as a character who seems to be whatever the narrative requires--she has no real defining personality traits, and her backstory is nonexistent. She has no life beyond Eda and the girls, and it isn’t even until after Ayse is gone that we start to see hints of her maybe becoming a real character. The results were disappointing, but I give props to the writers for giving Ayfer some kind of plot beyond “the flower shop is suddenly in a monetary crisis”. Fifi, Ceren, and Melo don’t fare much better. Ceren we know has the desire to be a shoe designer and has a rich lawyer daddy. She at least gets a side plot with Engin where we can see her as more of a person than Fifi, who was basically never a character at all. Melo fares the best, although much like Eda, she is boiled down to a few basic traits that don’t change. Eda’s life is otherwise devoid of color and life--no neighborhood friends or acquaintances, no backstory for her childhood. She seems to spring into our story like a fairy fully formed, and there is no real effort made to develop her at all.

Contrast this to Serkan’s family, where we get to watch not only his parents, but also Engin and even Piril and Ferit, grow and change. We see Aydan go from a stubborn, nasty, judgmental woman to a woman who is kind, open, and supportive of her son and the woman she wants to be her daughter. We see his father is more than merely an absent dad, but a man who is so stuck in his ways he is unable to open up--until Eda. (That his story is ruined is neither here nor there). Engin goes from a goofy sidekick to a competent husband and. Even Piril learns to unclench, Ferit goes from a doofy, hanger on to one of Serkan’s greatest supports.

The point is, the story of SCK is the story of how Serkan Bolat learned to open himself up to love, family, and the possibility of a life beyond work. That Eda is an essential part of that story goes without saying, but it is, ultimately, his story. It’s funny, but I remember at the end of 28 saying that I missed Serkan Bolat. My friends laughed at me “he’ll be back next week” and while at the time I was being dramatic, I realized it’s true. Because Serkan Bolat’s story was done at the end of 28 episodes. When he made the decision to get married to the woman he loves, to prioritize her over everything, to become a husband and father, his story came to a beautiful and natural close. Their love story was really his story, the story of two people who came together and loved each other, and the ways in which that love allowed him to live a full life.

Any story that would come after centered on Serkan wouldn’t make sense. At best, we could have a few episodes of Serkan as a married man, but really, he doesn’t have much else to give us. So, if the story was going to continue, something had to change. And that means finding a new character’s story to tell. Eda, naturally, fits the bill. Since her story and growth has taken a back seat to Serkan, it makes sense to pivot and make her the main character. At the end of 28, one of her goals has been fulfilled--be with the man she loves. Therefore, naturally, the next part of the story, the story she will now be telling, will be the other half of that goal--graduate and become a successful architect.

As Eda steps into the lead role, we no longer have a need to focus on a story about two people falling in love and how that love grows and changes them. That story was Serkan’s story, and the new story we are telling has Serkan in the supporting role, while Eda learns to navigate the corporate world. Her story is that of a woman who must balance work and life, motherhood and the job, family and friends while also running a successful business. In this new story, we have a time jump (5 years, which is necessary both because with covid we can’t have babies on set and also because they have found the perfect actress to portray their daughter). Serkan is taking more of a backseat role, having already achieved so many of his professional goals, so while he still is a successful CEO, he also has time to take care of their child and run the minutia of day to day business life while Eda stretches her wings and becomes the business woman she has dreamed of being.

In the final episodes, we would watch as Eda goes from a headstrong, willful, stubborn, impulsive young woman, to a strong, smart, business savvy boss who continues to put her family--her husband, children, and friends--in the forefront of her life. Their love story is now merely a backseat to Eda’s growth and journey.

Except, that’s not what they did. They made Eda the main character but then tried to retell a love story that had already concluded. And to do that, they needed to reset. Everything. After all, how do you retell a love story that has already finished? How do you retell a love story that we’ve already seen playout? How do you tell a love story between two people that has had a beginning, a middle and an end? The answer, it seems, is to start over. Scrap all previous growth, character progress, and storytelling from the first arc with one of your characters, and set him right back at square 1. Or, as it appears, square -10. Take your new main character, and change her. Tweak her just enough to make her work for this new and improved story by removing enough of her core to fit in the plot. Then, move forward from there, and pray the audience doesn’t see what you’ve done until it’s far too late.

So there it is. The fundamental problem with SCK. It’s not about liking or hating it--people like what they like, and this isn’t a judgement on anyone who is fine with the new plot. I’m hardly an expert writer, and perhaps I’m overlooking some missing nuance. But I don’t think you can argue that this new direction is good. It may be enjoyable, which is always subjective, but it’s not good. I don’t think it’s the sort of thing people will look back on and say “Oh, what an excellent piece of writing and characterization!” Hardcore Ayse stans will, I think, they seem impervious to critique or critical thinking, but a read on the fandom at large seems to indicate that most people accept that the plot itself is nonsensical, but they are here for Hande and Kerem and a cute little actress and not much else. To them, having Hanker on screen for another 10 episodes is enough, and there’s nothing wrong with that. I just think that it could have been so much more, and that’s what makes this so strange. But I guess maybe that’s what happens when not even the writer realizes who her own main character truly is.

#sen çal kapımı #sen cal kapimi #sck #eda yıldız #serkan bolat #this isn't a complaint post i swear #it's about how the plot has been failing since the 30s and why #it's because serkan is no longer the main character #and he always was #but when they tried to make eda the main character in a love story that had already been told #it meant they had to reset everything and change characters to fit

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myhockeyworld87 · 4 years ago

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Bubble Wrapped - Part 10

Word Count: 3,308

POV: Reader

Warnings: Same as always, Language, Smut, NSFW, Please see the note in the Masterlist

Teams: Bruins, Caps, Flyers, Lightning, Pens, Jackets, Canes, Islanders (more to come)

Notes: I want to thank everyone that reached out to say how much they enjoy this series and that they wanted to keep reading it. It meant a lot and I read each comment, ask and reblog. You guys are the absolute best!!! I’m not sure if I tell you that enough, but I truly love all my readers and followers. So with that being said, here’s part 10. Happy Reading to all!

You were feeling quite better after your little tryst with Mat at the stadium. In fact, if you were being honest, he'd made you forget about anyone else that you'd been with since the bubble. Well maybe not everyone, but you were definitely feeling like your old self again. Grabbing a glass of wine, you drew a bubble bath so that you could just soak your cares away. You even lit a couple of candles to give the room that nice glow. As you sunk into the warm water, you could feel all the stress of the last several weeks, just melting away. That was until your phone rang.

You grabbed it off the side of the tub, flipping it over to see Tyler's name. When his number had popped up the last couple of days, you'd hit decline. However, this time you accepted his facetime. "Hey, Ty."

"(Y/N), baby, where have you been? Are you dodging me on purpose?"

"No, I would never." The lie slipped easily off your tongue. It wasn't that you were avoiding Tyler. It was just that you needed some time, and apparently Mat Barzal to get back to yourself. Maybe if Tyler was here, it would've been him to do that, but he wasn't; he was in Edmonton. "I've just been super busy here, though Carly convinced me to take the day off."

"Well, you deserve the day off. Though I thought you were avoiding me, now that you can't win that bet."

Ugh, sometimes you hated how cocky he was. "Are you sure I lost?"

A look of betrayal crossed his face and it had you regretting saying anything. "Are you saying you slept with Crosby?"

"That's for me to know."

"And for me to try and find out." He finished the thought for you.

"I thought you wanted to cancel that bet anyhow." You distinctly remember him saying something about that in one of your conversations. "Or now that the Pens are out, is it a different story?"

"No, I'm still for canceling it. I don't see why we both can't win." There was a twinkle in his eye and you had to wonder what he meant.

"Do I even want to know what you're thinking?"

"Hear me out," he said bringing the phone a bit closer to his face and you had to laugh at the seriousness you saw there. "What if the next time we're together, it's just not a twenty-four-hour thing? What if it's a lot longer than that?"

"What exactly are you asking Ty?"

"I don't know. That maybe we just sort of, spend more time together. I miss you."

His sad little puppy dog eyes were getting to you, but you still found yourself saying. "But we're friends with benefits, Ty. We've always been that."

"Well…maybe we should change that." Oh well, this was new, though you weren't sure how he wanted to change it. Most of the year you lived in two separate countries. And this year, who knew when he would be back in Canada. He may end up having to stay in the states.

"And how would we do that Ty? We're literally in two separate places."

"Well, if we're still in the playoffs when things transfer over to Edmonton, why don't you come here and we can talk about what we want to do then."

This is definitely a conversation that you wanted to have face to face, and not over facetime. "And what if you're not in the finals?"

"Wow you have no faith in me, do you?" Ugh, you regretted saying that but you wanted to know what the alternative was, especially if you still were in the bubble and he was out. At any rate, I'll fly straight from here to Toronto to be with you. I figure I could just stay in your suite until the bubble is done. " It would probably work since he was already inside of it in Edmonton.

"You seemed to have it all planned out. Don't you?" You needed time to think about this, after all this was Tyler and you weren't sure the man was capable of doing a full-blown relationship, or if you even wanted to.

"I mean…yeah kind of."

"Are you sure you're not saying this, just because you're lonely and I'm the only one that will listen?" While things had seemed different with him over the last couple of weeks, you were still a bit skeptical of his motives. Besides, you weren't sure what kind of spell Sidney had weaved on you but you'd just gotten over that or had you, and to give that kind of power to Tyler could be deadly.

"Look, I'm going, to be honest. There are a few women here that I could be with, but I was thinking about this, you and me, long before I was trapped in this bubble. I told you before you're the only woman that could make me settle down." There was a seriousness not only to the tone of his voice but also the look on his face. You wondered what yours was giving away, and tried to mask your features.

"Well, I think this is something we should talk about, but definitely in person." At least this would let you stall so you could decide what you actually wanted to do, and you could still have some more fun while you were in the bubble. "So I'll agree to you either coming here or me going there once the conference finals come around."

"That's all I can ask for, baby." His cute smile was definitely a turn-on and mentally you put that in the pro column for possibly being in a relationship with him. "Hey, where are you? Because it looks like you don't have a top on?" And that right there was what went on the con side.

"I'm in the tub, remember I said before Carly convinced me to take the day off."

"Oh, I definitely should've been more observant before," he stated his eyebrows raising up. "So, um…why don't you shift that camera down a little lower." You were waiting for him to say that, but you really didn't mind. Your times with Tyler were always fun and you were sure this would be no different. You found yourself moving the phone, just enough to show him that you were covered in bubbles though a taut nipple did peak out. "Mmm, what I wouldn't give to be in that tub with you. Those bubbles are lucky son of a bitches for getting to caress your skin the way they are."

"And where and what might you be doing?"

"Same place I always am, laying on my bed, just dreaming of you, but now I get to actually see you and it makes things so much better." He could be such a smooth talker at times. "Why don't you slide that one hand down baby. Just like if I was there." It was easy to just listen to his directions. His voice and the warm relaxing water turning you on. "You know I'd run my hands all over your body until I could slip it between your beautiful pussy." The fact that he could do these things to you over the phone, made you long for when one of you would be out of this bubble and you could make it a reality. "Just glide a finger back and forth between your cunt baby." A sigh left your lips. "That's it, just like it was my hand doing it. Now, rub your clit. I know how that turns you on. Just slow circles, babe, not too fast. Can't have you cumming just yet."

"Mmm…it feels so good Ty."

"Wanna rub it a little faster for me?" His breath hitched as he spoke the words and you obeyed his words with ease. "Slide a finger inside, babe."

"OOOhhh," you moaned out, your head going back and water starting to slosh around as your hips jerked up.

"That's it…god your so gorgeous." Water dripped off your skin, as you grew flush from the heated water and your ministrations, and you could only imagine what you looked like as you tried to hold the phone steady and not drop it in the tub. "Let it slide in and out of that pussy." Your fingers followed his command. You could tell that he was stroking his cock, as his free arm came in and out of view of the screen when he pumped it. It turned you on even more, as you worked your pussy over. "Are you getting close babe?"

"Yes," your voice now echoing off the bathroom walls.

"Press your thumb on your clit." He knew the action would make you cum quickly, so he must have been close as well.

"Fuck, Ty." Though you'd already had one orgasm earlier, your legs felt that familiar tingle as your second one of the day started to build.

"That's it, baby, keep going. Cum for me."

"Oh…yes…Oh," a mixture of incoherent moans came out of your lips, as you started to climax. You could hear water, spill over to the floor, but you didn't care.

"Fuck (Y/N)," you heard Tyler say and you could tell he was cumming with you. There was silence on the line for several heartbeats as the two of you both tried to recover. "God, I have never seen anything more beautiful than when you cum."

"I'm not sure if that's a compliment or not."

"What? Of course, it is." He sounded offended by your comment. "Why wouldn't it be?"

"Well maybe because it seems like I'm not beautiful other times."

"(Y/FullN), you are the most stunning person I have ever seen and it doesn't matter if you have nine hundred layers on or nothing at all. I will tell you that you're the most beautiful woman in the world, every day if you let me." He was definitely trying to score points now and you had to say it was working.

Now, you kind of felt like you were fishing for a compliment. "Ok, I take it back." You said with a giggle. "You know, you're pretty amazing yourself there."

He shrugged his shoulders. "Yeah, I know."

"And conceited," you teased.

"It's not conceited, it's confidence baby." You rolled your eyes, but you supposed it was true. The man was so sure of himself that it practically oozed out of his pores, though you knew that deep down he still needed reassurances as we all did.

"Ok, Mr. Confidence, well this girl needs to get out of the water now that I'm officially a wrinkled prune."

"I'm not stopping you. Just keep the phone where I can see you." You shook your head, but still somehow managed to get out of the tub and dried off with him still on FaceTime. The two of you stayed up for the next couple of hours just talking about anything and everything. For once in his life, Tyler held nothing back from you and by the end of the night, he knew that you'd been fooling around with some of the guys that were in the hotel, but he didn't seem to care. All that mattered to him was that in the end, he still had a shot with you. It was refreshing and not the Tyler you were used to. Somewhere in the back of your mind, you started to wonder if things with him could really work out in the long run.

The next morning, you woke up invigorated from your day off. Carly had known exactly what you needed and you headed downstairs bright and early to thank her, only to be sidetracked by Logan. "(Y/N), thank god you're here. The place is a disaster. I don't know what to do."

This was not what you needed to walk into after your day off, but knowing Logan it was probably some minor problem that you could fix in a minute; two if there was an actual problem. "Calm down. Take a deep breath. I'm sure whatever it is we can solve the problem in no time." He did as you said and you could see the tension just roll off his body. "Now, tell me what's wrong."

"There's a busted water pipe on floor eighteen and it's flooded one room and going into another, but you're right it's not that big of a deal."

"NOT THAT BIG OF A DEAL! Jesus, Logan, why didn't you say the hotel is falling apart." You quickly wiped out your phone as you headed up to the eighteenth floor, calling maintenance as you went. Luckily, they were already shutting off the water by the time you got there. "What the hell happened? This is practically a brand-new hotel." The pipes barely had dust on them, let alone rust or anything that could corrode them. The room where the pipe had busted was a complete disaster. There was water everywhere, down the walls, completely soaked into the mattress, even in the ceiling. Wait, now that you looked at the ceiling there was a huge hole in it. Who's room was this? The eighteenth floor was one of the ones the Canes were staying on, so it had to be one of them. They were a rowdy bunch, but you thought they kept their antics on the ice.

"We shut the water off, (Y/N)." Frank one of the maintenance men told you. "But it's gonna take a day or two, to fix it, as we don't have the supplies here. I'll have to shut it off to the other two rooms next to it as well. Luckily, the damage seems to be only in this room."

"Thanks, Frank, I owe you one for getting it shut off so quick. Have Carly help you get whatever you need. She's good at putting a rush on things."

"Will do." You looked around surveying the damage. There would have to be new furniture put in this room as it was utterly destroyed, along with the carpeting and the bedding. And then you spotted it. A hockey stick laying on top of the bed, the end coated in plaster.

Some of the players had gathered outside and if you hadn't been in such a rush to get here, you would've looked at the room number for who to go after. After your relaxing day yesterday, today was turning into a disaster. Carly, somehow pushed her way through several hulking men to get to you. "Frank just told me." Her eyes got big as saucers as she took in the damage. "Holy fuck." Those words seemed adequate. You grabbed her by the shoulder and she seemed to shake herself out of a stupor.

"What room number is this?"

"Eighteen twenty-three." Slowly you turned around looking for the guilty culprit, and there he was, all six foot four of him standing there in saturate clothes and looking quite sheepishly. Joel Edmundson, the crop top king, if you recalled from your conversation yesterday with Carly. The only thing was he wasn't the only one that was drenched, standing beside him were Dougie Hamilton and Andrei Svechnikov. "Just breathe," Carly whispered. "Getting upset will do nothing, plus you've got bigger problems."

"Bigger problems, then a gaping hole in a roof with water soaking the room."

She shrugged her shoulder innocently. "Well, if Frank is right and we're going to need a couple days to fix this. You need to find three rooms in what's already a completely booked hotel." Damnit, she was right. You were already at max capacity and didn't have a room to spare. You realized that it was a great opportunity for the hotel when they'd been chosen to host the Stanley Cup Playoffs, but you were really starting to wonder if the NHL had a personal vendetta against you when it made the decision to keep this hotel completely occupied the entire time.

"What am I going to do?"

"You could send them over to Royal York."

"Are you kidding me? I'd sooner cut off my left arm, then send them back there." It wasn't that Royal York was a bad hotel, but there was definitely a little rivalry between you and the manager over there. It was a friendly competition on who could handle all these NHL players, but you wanted to be the victor here.

"They could always move into the suite with you. You have two extra rooms, though someone would have to double up." She eyed all of the men standing there silently outside the room, just waiting for you to explode. "Or someone could always sleep in your bed." She nudged you and then whispered low. "My votes for the crop top king." As much as you didn't want to admit it, he did sort of have that quality about him that appealed to you. Shit, what were you doing even thinking about her suggestion?

"Two of them can room together, especially after making this mess."

"Hmm, probably. Just don't rule my suggestion out."

You gave her a look, the one that said you wouldn't be entertaining that thought, even though there was part of you that wanted to, then stepped out in the hallway to speak to the guys gathered there. "I'm sure you gathered that we have a bit of a…situation here. We're going to need to shut the water off in three rooms for a couple days." The three culprits all shared looks back and forth with each other, and you truly had to wonder what the hell they were trying to do that broke the damn water pipe. "If you're in room twenty-one, twenty-three, and twenty-five we're going to need to relocate you." As you said the names, you realized that the guilty party just so happened to be the same guys that needed to be relocated. "If you could just pack up your things, I'll get someone here to move you."

All the other players dispersed to their rooms, and finally, Joel came up to you. "Look we're really sorry. We understand if you have us sleeping in cots in the basement or something for the next couple of days."

He sounded so sweet and, well innocent wasn't the right word, but maybe sincere, that you found yourself saying, "No, we'd never do something like that, but I will need two of you to stay in the same room. There are two queen beds in the one so it's not like you'll have to share."

"That's not a problem, Svech and I can room together." Joel offered, putting his arm around his teammate.

"I'm sure a lot of your stuff is ruined, from the water. I can have housekeeping take care of all your laundry, but if you could just grab your other things."

"Sure, no problem. Just give us like twenty minutes and we'll be ready."

The three of them disappeared while you made phone calls to housekeeping, letting them know to make this a priority and that they would also be needing to clean up the other rooms in your suite over the next few days. Sure enough, twenty minutes later they had all their gear gathered up. "So, where are we headed to?" Dougie asked as you all stepped into the elevator. You hit the penthouse floor button.

"My suite." Glances were exchanged and you didn't miss them checking your body up and down appreciatively. "You'll be staying with me until your rooms can be cleaned up."

"If I would've known that, I would've broken the pipe earlier," you swore you hear Joel mumble, and you had to laugh. The next couple of days were definitely going to be something. You just weren't sure what kind of something.

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rainy-day-gracie · 5 years ago

Text

Falling

hey hey hey !!

this was a Spencer Reid request for Reader to have some kind of past trauma so she pushes Spencer away despite having feelings for him. On a bombing case, she opens up to him.

9/11 disussion, if you are ever in New York city I highly recommend visiting the 9/11 museum. Has lots of artifacts and letters sent from the terrorists, very moving. I visited last summer and was almost in tears.

Fluff and angst, the usual

MASTERLIST

“Can you catch it?” I laughed as I threw kernels of popcorn at Reid, him failing at catching them in his mouth.

“That was definitely your fault, it wasn’t even close,” Reid complained jokingly. I just shrugged, popping a kernel into my mouth and ignoring the way my heart beat when he smiled.

Nope, my heart is not open for business, I told myself.

As we were lost in our chuckles, the team and I almost didn’t notice Hotch run from his office to Rossi’s and then down the stairs.

“Wheels up in 10. We’ll brief on the jet.”

I looked to Reid with furrowed eyebrows. “That’s not good.”

His eyes followed Hotch, who was already headed to the elevators. “No, it is not.”

“A bomb just went off in the Forest Brush Elementary school in South Carolina an hour ago. Right now, body count is 24, the number of injuries rising.” Hotch gave us the news with heavy eyes, and the plane was silent.

“Location is definitely intentional, the unsub probably had a rocky childhood,” I said, not totally sure of what I was saying. Reid noticed my unfocused eyes, but he didn’t say anything.

Glass windows and foundation shattering.

“Where was the bomb planted in the school?” Morgan asked Hotch.

“The unsub didn’t plant it. He kept the bomb in his car and drove it into the school cafeteria before detonating it with a remote. They still haven’t identified the bomber yet.” Hotch said without looking up from his flies. I fought to listen to what they were saying, instead of getting lost in the memories.

Screams of terror and overwhelming smell of smoke.

“YLN?” A hand nudged my arm gently, and I flinched at the movement. My eyes met Reid’s, and he gave me a questioning look.

“I’m fine… I just wanna find out who did this.” Reid didn’t buy it, but he didn’t press.

“Alright, everyone needs to dive into their assignments as soon as we touch ground. Morgan, Prentiss, JJ, Rossi go to the elementary school and help with search and rescue. If there’s any witnesses at all, get them medical help and then do an interview. Reid, YLN and I will go to the police station to meet with families, examine blueprints of the school, and contact the press.” Hotch looked to me, and I shot him a grateful look. The press I can handle. __

After an hour at the police station, I was already exhausted. “The press want a statement from the principal, apparently he ran into the school continuously to save as many kids as he could.”

Reid raised his eyebrows. “Wow, that is really brave. Has the team interviewed him yet?”

I shook my head. “No, he’s still being checked out by medics. I just don’t understand how the press can’t just let the witnesses alone, let them deal with their trauma without a camera shoved in their face.” My words came out bitterly, and Reid noticed.

“Hey, what’s going on with you? Is everything okay?” For some reason his words only made me angry.

“No, everything is not okay. 24 kids and teachers are dead.” I glared up at him before storming away.

He caught my arm before I could get far. “YFN... did something happen to you?”

My anger melted away as quickly as it had come, and I pulled on his tie. “Come on,” I said simply, leading us into an empty room. My breath started to come more quickly, and I shut the door fast behind us.

Reid looked at me with kind eyes, and my heart did jumping jacks. “What happened to you? You’ve been different on this case, I’ve never seen you like this.”

I closed my eyes, leaning back against the closed door. “United Airlines, Flight 175.”

His expression changed immediately. “You... were in New York?”

“On September 11th, 2001, I was a 20 year old intern, working in the North Tower of the Global Trade center. I lost a part of myself that day, and that was the day that made me want to join the FBI. To fight people that prey on the innocent.” I gulped, tears biting the edges of my eyes and memories flooding my vision. “When the tower collapsed, I could feel the rubble pressing down on my chest. I should’ve died, but I was coming back from getting coffee so I wasn’t high up when the plane hit.”

Reid tried to pull me into a hug, but I pushed him away. His eyes turned from sympathetic to sad. “I’m sorry, I just-”

“No, it’s not you, I promise. I just don’t...” If I hugged him, my heart wouldn’t be able to keep from falling. Like the towers on that fateful day. “I was engaged to my high school sweetheart... he was going to surprise me with breakfast since I was in a rush that morning, and he was waiting for me when...”

Tears streamed down my face, and when Reid pulled me into a hug, I didn’t resist him this time. “Is that why you push me away?” He whispered into my hair.

“Yes.”

Both of our phones buzzed, snapping us out of our daze.

Hotch had sent a text to the team group chat. Need press conference, as many cameras as possible.

I looked at Reid, having a newfound gratitude for him. “Thanks... for being worried about me.”

He gave a small smile. “I’ll always worry about you. That’s just the way it is.” __

“Earlier today, 29 year old Charlie Calloway drove a black Jeep Cherokee into Forest Brush Elementary, killing 24 people and injuring many more.” I kept my chin high, looking into each and every camera surrounding me. “The FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit is currently working the case around the clock, not resting until we have completed our investigation. With the help of the Charleston Field Office, we have set up a tip line for anyone with information regarding the explosion.” Keep talking, give enough time for the tip line to buzz. “We are here to ensure that nothing like this happens again.”

I rambled for another 10 minutes before Reid from across the room gave me a thumbs up. “Thank you for your time. No questions will be answered for now.”

The team was circling a phone held by Rossi when I reentered the police station. “The unsub called. He had a partner.” Reid murmured in my ear. “The press conference drew him out.”

Rossi glanced briefly at me before turning his attention back to the phone. “What is your goal?” Rossi asked, and there was a brief pause before he spoke again. “Revenge is the oldest motive in the book-” Rossi was cut off, and his gaze landed on me again. “He wants to talk to YFN.”

My heart seemed to beat slowly, too slow. “Um, uh, yeah. Yeah, I’ll talk to him.”

Rossi handed me the phone, quickly talking me through what to do. “Don’t call him a coward, it would set him off on a rampage. Play into his fantasy, act afraid.”

“I am afraid.”

“So show him that. He sees women as lesser, that’s why he got so enraged when he saw you on TV. If we can get him to underestimate you, he’ll slip up and give something away.” Rossi gave me the phone, and Spencer’s warm fingers slipped into my free hand.

“Who am I speaking to?” I asked, trying not to hyperventilate.

Police sirens and my eyes stinging with dust.

“What gave you the right to lie to those reporters?”

“What do you mean?” My voice shook slightly, and I didn’t try to hide it.

“‘We are here to ensure that nothing like this happens again,’“ he said in a mocking tone. His voice was slightly out of breath, like he was moving, and the sound of cars said he was on a city street.

“Just doing my job, sir,” I said, squeezing Reid’s hand.

“Oh yeah? Well so am I.” His voice was on the phone, but it was also close. I looked across the field office at a young man giving me a sick smile. He had on a thick trench coat, and in an instant, he unclenched a fist I didn’t even see.

The blast seemed to happen in slow motion. The entire team got blown across the office, along with every single law enforcement officer on the first floor.

My vision went black, and I woke up on a stretcher outside what was left of the building. My head pounded worse than anything I had ever experienced, but I lifted it enough to see the scene with blurry vision. Endless ambulances and police cars, a massive sea of onlookers barely being held back by officers, and my whole team scattered around by different paramedics.

Except Reid.

“Reid?” I called out, getting to my feet and stumbling around the pavement. A mass of curly brown hair collapsed on the ground caught my eye from inside the building, flames and rubble surrounding him. “Reid!”

Paramedics tried holding me back from the scene, but somehow I was able to slip out of their grip while running towards the caved in building.

Dust fell in my eyes and the ceiling creaked, letting me know in my hazy state of mind that the building was about to collapse on top of us. I got to Spencer, who was groaning and crawling as best he could.

“Hey, hey, Reid, c’mon, time to go,” I hooked my arms around his stomach, lifting him to his knees and unsteadily to his feet.

“YFN...” he mumbled, his brown eyes becoming focused on my face. Spencer snapped out of his daze. “Time to go.”

We ran out as soon as the ceiling caved in, and the burst of adrenaline wore off instantly. Spencer and I collapsed on the pavement, our chests heaving.

“YFN... you saved my life.” Spencer looked over at me as paramedics raced toward us.

“Of course,” I said breathlessly. “I love you.”

“What?” His face was lost in a swarm of paramedics, and I smiled to myself.

Late that night, we were all silent on the jet ride back. It was concluded that the bombings were over, and everyone wanted to go home anyway.

I was half asleep in my seat when Spencer sat lazily next to me, neither of us saying anything.

Spencer was the one who spoke first.

“You are the bravest person I’ve ever met. For you go through what you’ve gone through and still run into collapsing building to save a friend...”

He trailed off for a moment, probably considering the word ‘friend’. Are we really just friends at this point, after everything we’ve gone through? “I know that you push me away because of what happened to your fiance’, but you can’t keep yourself away from happiness out of fear something might happen to me.” He laced his fingers through mine gently. “I love you, and I’ll wait for when you’re ready. I just want you to be happy.”

A soft smile came to my lips, and I looked over at him next to me. “I love you too, Spencer. But you already know that.”

Spencer chuckled, and I drifted off to sleep on his shoulder. The sound of glass shattering and the smell of smoke left my brain for the first time since that fateful day in New York.

Spencer lightly pressed a kiss to my forehead, and I fell asleep with a small smile still on my lips.

TAG LIST: @squirrellover1967 @yomama-umbridge @tiktokslut @ sknnymnne @pinkdiamond1016 @vixengustin88

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #dr reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid imagine #criminal minds imagine #spencer reid fic #criminal minds fic

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aurora077 · 4 years ago

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Intervention

Summary: Lan Xichen’s seclusion had gone on long enough, in Jiang Cheng’s opinion. It was time for an intervention. Fem!JC

Author's Note: This work is set in jiucengta ‘s haunting legacies au (https://archiveofourown.org/series/1716682)which I suggest you check out. Jiang Cheng is female and was married to Wei Wuxian before shit hit the fan. The relationships are not explicitly stated here, it's very background. I just had this idea and wanted to get it out there. I may or may not do another fic very similar to this one but not set in an AU, just post-canon instead.

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Two years had gone by since the fateful Guanyin Temple incident that rocked the cultivation world. Two years (a little more really) since Jiang Cheng’s erstwhile husband had returned from the dead. Two years (a little less actually but who’s counting) since she lost her widowed status and gained an extra love to boot somewhere in the middle. And two years since Sect Leader Lan had gone into seclusion, punishing himself for his blindness and mourning the loss of both his sworn brothers.

Normally Jiang Cheng would not stick her nose in other sects’ business. But Gusu Lan had become more than just another sect to her; it was important to those she loved and so, it was also important to her. And even if things hadn’t turned out the way they did in her personal life, Lan Xichen is someone she would have wanted to help anyway. During the thirteen years her husband had been dead he had been one of the few to show any open support for her.

She would never forget that fateful discussion conference-- the one where she’d been dubbed Wife of the Yiling Demon after she rebuffed Jin Guangshan’s attempt to pressure her into marriage (brokered by him no less-- undoubtedly trying to get her to wed one of his own relatives...control over the Jiang could only work in his favour). Loudmouthed Sect Leader Yao would have turned things even uglier for her had it not been for Lan Xichen’s timely intervention on her behalf. His steady support had helped her in more ways than one over the years despite the fact that they were not ever particularly close. With Gusu Lan seemingly in her corner, the voices that would (and initially, did) loudly decry a young female Sect Leader were forced to whisper instead.

That was why she found herself sitting opposite the man, sipping on a cup of tea as he gazed inquisitively at her.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he greeted, sounding weary, voice containing only a trace of his former warmth, “What brings you here? As you know I am still in seclusion, technically, I should not be having visitors. Is there something urgent that you need my help with?”

“Yes,” she said, and continued bluntly as was her way, “I’m here to convince you to leave it.”

His eyes widened slightly. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

It spoke to the measure of self control the Lan’s had that he didn’t simply kick her out of the hanshi.

“I beg your pardon but I don’t see how that’s any of your business.”

She cleared her throat and tried to measure her words more carefully; she didn’t want to be asked to leave before she had made her arguments and she tried to remember that this Lan Xichen had been hurt too deeply to retain his former magnanimity.

“You may not know it Lan Xichen, but outside these walls you are sorely missed.”

His lips twitched, as if he wanted to smile but couldn’t quite make it.

“I’m aware my family may miss me, Sect Leader Jiang, but I had no idea that you harbored such strong feelings towards me that you now miss my presence.”

She sputtered slightly, not expecting him to joke about it when he looked like he could keel over if she spoke too loudly. “I…” her face turned red, “That wasn’t what…”

Taking pity on her he waved her protests away, voice becoming more solemn, “Why don’t you tell me why you think I should leave my seclusion. You of all people should understand why I need to do this. It was your family hurt the most by my ignorance.”

She drew in a breath to steady herself, “Did you hold me responsible when Wei Wuxian did all the crap that he did?”

“That’s different, he was manipulated,” he frowned.

“Nobody knew that until recently Zewu-Jun. And manipulation or not he still made choices that led to a lot of harm. So I ask you again, was I to blame? Should I not have been able to stop my husband? Is it not, therefore also my fault? Maybe I should join you in seclusion since his demonic cultivation was partly because he gave me his core and had no options left.”

He looked pained, “I have never blamed you for his choices. You couldn’t help what you didn’t know. None of us knew he didn’t have a core.”

“And none of us knew Jin Guangyao was a megalomaniac either. So how can you be blamed for his choices? If you are to shoulder the blame then so should all the rest of us.”

“The rest of you weren’t his sworn brothers!” he almost shouted.

“Mingjue knew. He warned me not to trust him so many times. I dismissed him. I thought he was paranoid and misjudging A-Yao like so many others. If he could see it, why didn’t I? I wronged Da-ge in the worst way because I thought I knew better than him,” His breathing was coming out ragged, “I thought A-Yao was the one who knew me best. Who I knew best.”

It spoke to his state of mind that he even let all of that out in front of her.

“Sect Leader Jiang, the man I considered my closest companion is the man most hated by the cultivation world and reviled as a monster. How do you think I must look in comparison? I am sure there are those out there wondering if I had known and if I even helped him with all of his plans. There are people who will speculate as to the bounds of our relationship. If I did not go into seclusion they would say I had no shame, look what his sworn brother did and he’s out and about like normal. Then there are those who look at my decision to seclude myself as an indicator of guilt and may accuse me of complicity. Or they will look at my mourning and see someone who mourns a monster and who does that? Why mourn a monster? Sect Leader Yao even openly criticised your young nephew for crying at the coffin of his uncle who also helped raise him. A parentless child who saw one of his only remaining close family members die brutally after being exposed as a serious criminal, who even threatened him with bodily harm, could not grieve him without censure. What of a grown man, and a Sect Leader at that!”

“With all due respect, so what?”

“E..excuse me?” Lan Xichen was torn between being confused and insulted.

“You heard me. So. What?” she started, “So what if they think these things? Does that make it true? If Sect Leader Yao thinks that you’re an incestuous troll would that make it true? If Sect Leader Ouyang says ‘hey did you know that Sect Leader Lan likes to visit brothels in secret’ would that make it true? Just because people think something does not make it a reality. Your sect certainly does not believe you are responsible for the actions of Jin Guangyao and would stand by you if anyone insinuates otherwise. You have your brother and your uncle who love you and are worried about you. Your sect has thrived under your leadership and undoubtedly they all miss you too.”

That Lan Jingyi kid couldn’t shut up about how much he missed Zewu-Jun. And she knew Lan Zhan missed his brother and lamented that he could not do more for him. He and Lan Qiren were working themselves ragged trying to pick up the pieces. He’d hardly had time to come back to Lotus Pier and she and Wei Ying missed him dearly. They’d had to make up so many ‘official’ reasons to find themselves in the Cloud Recesses so that they could spend some time together. So yes on the one hand it would be good for them if Zewu-Jun were to leave seclusion but she wasn’t simply doing it for that reason. It was because if anyone could understand what Zewu-Jun was going through, it would be her. And she didn’t think that seclusion was going to help anything. All it would do is make him ruminate on his mistakes over and over again until he likely went mad himself.

“You said that the man you considered your closest companion turned out to be a monster. Gee, I wonder what that feels like? You said that people will wonder if you helped him with his plans, oh gee, I wonder what that feels like?” Zewu-Jun had the grace to look abashed at that.

She continued, softer, “You said people will talk about what kind of person mourns a monster. But you’re not mourning a monster, are you? When A-Ling cried over his coffin, did you blame him for it? Did you think ‘why is this child mourning when he should celebrate the end of the one who fractured his family?’ like Sect Leader Yao did?” Zewu-Jun shook his head but didn’t say anything, letting her continue.

“A-Ling was mourning the loss of the uncle he knew. And you are mourning the loss of the companion he had been to you. The world will only ever view him as a monster because the world never knew him. But you did. Maybe you didn’t know everything about him, but not everything about him was fake. I hate Jin Guangyao, I will not pretend otherwise. But I was there, Zewu-Jun. I was there, and I could see that he truly did care for you and value you. Not everything he showed you would have been fake. You of all people probably got more sincerity out of him than anyone else. And so you, of all people, have a right to mourn the man he was, the same way A-Ling still mourns the loss of the man who gifted a lonely child a dog. Not everything had an ulterior motive. Even monsters can love can’t they? Even monsters had people who loved them. I would know. So if you need to mourn him… then just mourn him.

Who gives a damn what people will say about it? People will always talk, Zewu-Jun. It doesn’t matter what you do or don’t do, people will believe what they want to believe. So why let their opinions force you into repenting for something you didn’t even do? Let them think what they want to think. It is not a crime to be deceived. We all were. Why take the world on your shoulders when you don’t actually have to? And again, with all due respect Sect Leader Lan, if I, a family-less, alliance-less woman whose husband was the most reviled personage in the jianghu, who suffered the scorn of the cultivation world for over a decade, could raise my nephew on my own and build my sect back from literal ashes into one of the strongest and most respected once again, then you, who have a strong sect and people who love you, who believe in you and will support you no matter what… you can manage to live too.”

“Sect Leader Jiang…” Zewu-Jun was at a loss for words. What could he say? It only sounded selfish and petty to claim that he suffered more than she did, because he truly didn’t. She was right after all. Sect Leader Jiang was a remarkable woman. Life had not been kind to her. And...her words struck something within him. He felt ashamed. He hadn’t even thought about what it was like for her before this. He’d never offered her any support, but here she was trying to get him to live his life again without guilt. She, whose family most assuredly suffered because of his inaction, was here telling him to let it go, to not take responsibility. But how could he do that so easily?

“How did you do it? Sect Leader Jiang...” his voice cracked, “Can you ever forgive me, for the harm that my inaction caused you and your family?” Maybe if he heard it from her, maybe he could begin to forgive himself.

She sighed. “On my part, there is nothing to forgive Zewu-Jun. And so I can’t grant you forgiveness because you haven’t done me any wrong. But there are a few people who do deserve an apology from you. And your seclusion is a self-imposed punishment that you feel you deserve but at the end of the day, it does not actually do anything tangible when it comes to making amends to those who have been hurt.”

He was silent for a moment, stunned by her words. He hadn’t considered that his seclusion might have been causing others even more harm than he’d already done to them. Sect Leader Jiang was wise (she would disagree...she’d just learned from bitter experience in her opinion). He felt like he’d done her a great disservice all of these years, by not making an effort to reach out to her.

“Please, tell me. I.. I confess I no longer trust my judgement. I thought I knew A-Yao. I thought I was a good judge of character. I no longer know how to tell what is up from down. All I know is that I was so, so wrong about A-Yao. If you say that I have not harmed you then I am glad. I would hate to be the cause of more pain. You said that I am not responsible for A-Yao’s actions, and though it isn’t easy to believe that just yet, if there are those who I have truly wronged then please...please tell me. I still don’t know if I am ready to leave seclusion, if I even know how to, but I need to atone for my actions.”

Jiang Cheng nodded, “That’s the right attitude at least. So to start with I’d say you need to have a chat with Huaisang.”

His eyes widened, “I… I don’t know if that’s such a good idea, Sect Leader Jiang.” His face darkened slightly. He wasn’t pleased with Huaisang at the moment. It felt like he never even knew him.

“And why not? Out of everyone, it’s Huaisang that you unintentionally hurt. And I don’t mean because of not listening to Nie Mingjue. His death was not your fault.” He was about to protest but she cut him off. “It wasn’t. I told you, stop taking responsibility for what isn’t your fault and own up to what is.”

He sighed heavily, “If it’s not about Da-ge then how did I wrong Huaisang?”

“Well for one, you’re still his Er-ge. Yet you seem to have forgotten that in lieu of what happened in the temple. Huaisang… has lost everyone. He may have been acting like a shady shit for the past however many years but… do you know what it’s like to be the last one of your family, Zewu-Jun? To have nobody beside you except subordinates?” He inhaled sharply. “I.. I hadn’t thought of that,” he said mournfully. How much did he just not consider? What kind of a person was he that he resented Huaisang for his deceit but yet did not consider for one moment that Huaisang may have done those things because he thought he was all alone and could not come to him for help? What kind of brother was he that his little brother could not confide in him? He should have been there for Huaisang, instead he had thought so highly of Jin Guangyao, even dismissing da-ge’s claims, that Huaisang had not dared to approach him with his suspicions.

Sect Leader Jiang was being very understanding however, “Zewu-Jun, I know you’re not pleased with Huaisang. I know there are many things that he’s done that are not right. I know there’s a possibility that he lied and forced your hand at the end. Believe me, I know the feeling...more than anyone, I know what it feels like to be deceived by someone you love...to kill someone you love. I know what it feels like when everyone praises you for it. Like you did such a great thing and you should be happy and celebrating with everyone else, except you can’t because your heart has shattered…has been ripped to shreds.

As someone who once loved a so-called monster...as someone who as good as killed that person with their own hands, I understand better than anyone what you’re going through. What Huaisang did was cruel, even though I’m glad Jin Guangyao is dead. It was cruel to have you be the one to end him. Huaisang likely knew that Jin Guangyao valued you. He knew it would be the worst end for him to be killed by your hand. I can’t speak for Huaisang, but I don’t believe he did it to hurt you, even though that’s inevitably what happened anyway. He did it to hurt Jin Guangyao. But even though it was not kind of him to have you be the arbiter of justice, he still deserves to have his Er-ge in his life.

She paused remembering the pain of losing her husband and sister all in one night.

She didn't have to imagine how Huaisang would have felt at losing the last member of his family at the hands of someone he cared about.“You and I aren’t the only ones who were deceived by someone we loved. Huaisang loved Jin Guangyao too, didn’t he? He loved and trusted him. When Nie Mingjue was getting worse, didn’t Huaisang trust and rely on both you and Jin Guangyao? It wasn’t a front. You were both dear to him. He loved him. He loved him and was betrayed by him in the worst way. And then yes, he orchestrated a whole convoluted plan to have him exposed and killed.

But you and I can both attest that justice, and even revenge, doesn’t stop the pain does it? Huaisang avenged his brother, but he lost another in the process, the same way you did. Don’t let him lose you too. You said you wronged Nie Mingjue by not listening to him. I think you’d wrong him even more if you left his little brother alone, without anyone to call family. You don’t have to forgive Huaisang right away, or at all if you don’t want to, but eventually you should at least try and reconcile with him. You’re his big brother... the only one left. And you know, Huaisang would have had the realisation that he was fooled by Jin Guangyao all on his own. But you don’t have to be alone.

Huaisang and you share the experience of being blinded by him. It would be much easier to talk to someone who has gone through the same things, no? Huaisang is there. And I am here. You don’t have to endure this on your own. We may not be very close Zewu-Jun, but we can understand each other, not so? So I’m here if you need someone to confide in. And Huaisang...Huaisang must be waiting too. For his Er-ge. You both owe each other apologies.”

By the time she was done speaking there were tears rolling down his face. She didn’t think it was quite appropriate given their positions, (though she was sort of his secret sister-in-law so really, he counted as family) but she moved over to his side and embraced him. If he was surprised he didn’t show it, only moving to cling to her more tightly and sob with a ferocity that had her a bit surprised. She wondered if this was the first time since the temple that he’d allowed himself to fully grieve what he had lost, without the guilt of letting his sworn brother die, killing the other one, and feeling bad for mourning for someone who he should hate.

Everyone praised him for killing Jin Guangyao however, it was something he didn’t want to be praised for. But what could he say? That he hated the fact that he killed him? He was right about one thing, if he ever said something like that people would most assuredly say he was complicit and probably want to implicate him. Jiang Cheng of all people knew how hard it was to listen to people praising you for a deed you were not proud of. And so she was the only person who would understand. The only person who would, who could, acknowledge the hurt it would have caused him to do what he did, especially if he was tricked into it.

His feelings about Huaisang would be complicated, but it wasn’t too late to reconcile as long as they were both alive.

She rubbed his back consolingly and just let him cry. It must have been no more than 15 minutes, but it felt much longer, before his tears slowed. When his sobs petered out he tried to compose himself. She let go of him and he embarrassedly turned away, sipping his tea. He cleared his throat, “I’m sorry Sect Leader Jiang, that was unbecoming of me.”

“Don’t mention it,” she waved off. She was there to help after all.

“I will give your words due consideration. It was remiss of me to forget that I was not the only one affected by A-Yao’s schemes. I truly regret not thinking of how Huaisang would have felt when he first found out. You are right. I have done my little brother a disservice,” he said, voice croaky from his bout of sobbing.

“You said that there were people I needed to apologise to. Who else have I wronged?” he continued. His respect and admiration for Sect Leader Jiang had grown exponentially since the start of this visit. He would take her words under advisement if he could.

“Oh Zewu-Jun,” she sighed, “What you’re doing with this seclusion, doesn’t it remind you of someone? Because it sure reminds your uncle.”

Zewu-Jun looked as if she had slapped him.

“Nobody would begrudge you needing time to grieve and to come to terms with what happened, it is human nature. It’s understandable. We were all blindsided. And I understand the wish to seclude yourself because I wish I could have as well, though I didn’t have the luxury,” she said, not unkindly but it made him wince anyway, “But it’s been too long. A few months would be okay, though grief will last longer than that, but more than that is just being unfair to others. You are the Sect Leader. Your uncle has already had to watch his brother shirk his duties and seclude himself from the world for the rest of his life.

Your uncle has had to pick up the slack. He raised you and your brother like a father would, while taking care of sect matters. None of those things were his responsibility yet he did it. And now… now he has to go through it all over again. Master Lan is elderly though and he cannot keep up with all of the duties required of an elder, teacher and now Sect Leader once more. And so that leads me to the last person that you have wronged.

Lan Zhan is Chief Cultivator now, did you know? His duties are myriad and yet he has to come back here and help Master Lan run the sect. It pains Master Lan to see history repeating itself. A younger brother once again has to take the reins from his older brother and he does it without complaint, because he loves you. But it is unfair to A-Zhan. He can’t live his own life because he’s too busy living yours. He’s barely managing to keep up with both sets of duties, but he’s doing it for you. It has been two years, Zewu-Jun. He worries so much about you, as does your uncle. It pains them to see you this way. And so Sect Leader Lan,” she pointedly used his rank, “I beg of you to consider leaving your seclusion. You have people who love you waiting for you. Your family needs you.”

His eyes were glittering once more, but no tears were shed this time. He swallowed thickly. The past few months it had seemed as if he was living in a fog. He’d barely managed to keep his routine up, it was only through decades of strict routine that he’d gotten himself off the bed and eaten his food and meditated everyday on his shortcomings. But it seemed that while he was doing that he’d missed quite a few. Because she was right wasn’t she? He hid himself away like a coward and didn’t even think about how it would affect Wangji and Uncle. He hadn’t even considered how hurt his uncle would feel to see him go down the same route as his father.

Her words were like a splash of cold water. It seemed to wake him up; it got him out of the daze he was in. If this woman before him could raise a child and a sect from the ashes all alone after going through more tragedy than a hundred people in one lifetime would...he could get himself in gear and do what he had to do. He felt ashamed in front of her. She was right that she didn’t have the luxury to seclude herself. But he did. He did, and he took advantage of the support system that he had to take time for himself. More time than he should have.

She said it was understandable, and maybe it was, but she was also right that it should not have been going on for this long. He had no desire to be Qingheng-Jun the second. But if she hadn’t come here today… if she hadn’t said all that she had said… He would not have even thought of those things. He was too busy thinking of himself. It was likely that he would have stayed for years in his seclusion, just ruminating on what went wrong and what he could have changed. It was all too easy to get caught up in could-have-beens.

“Sect Leader Jiang,” he said, devastated at the thought of his uncle, the man who raised him when he didn’t have to, who did his best to prevent them from turning out like their father, thinking that he had failed when it was Lan Xichen who failed, “I’ve heard you loud and clear. But…”

“But?”

“But I don’t know if I even know how to go about being Sect Leader anymore. I feel like the decisions I make would be questionable now. How can I trust that I will do what’s best for the sect? I have already failed in so many ways. Now I have failed Wangji and Uncle too.”

“What did I tell you? You’re not alone Zewu-Jun. You don’t have to leave seclusion immediately. You don’t even have to start doing everything right away. Ease back into it. Your family will be there to help you. I’m offering to help you. If you need to talk about things that you can’t with them, you can write to me. Master Qiren should not have to be taking on these responsibilities any longer and A-Zhan needs to have time to breathe...his own position is challenging enough. Besides you haven’t failed, you’ve just had some setbacks is all. Failure would be wallowing in self-pity forever and leaving everyone else to do your duties indefinitely,” she looked at him pointedly. He got the hint.

“Okay Sect Leader Jiang. I shall take you up on that then. But I do have a question if you’ll indulge me,” he said.

“Shoot.”

“I mean no offense at all, in fact I’m actually extremely grateful for your concern, but I am curious….why do you even care? You didn’t have to do any of this. I’m well aware that you have your own duties and worries. Why bother about mine?”

She smiled for the first time since she walked into the Hanshi. He was struck by it. It had been a long time since he’d seen her smile... truly smile. In fact, the last time he’d seen a smile as bright as that on her face was probably right here in the Cloud Recesses when she was a student.

“You may not remember it, Zewu-Jun, but there was a time Jin Guangshan sought to marry me off. It was your words of support for me, against that awful Sect Leader Yao, that saved my skin, though they still called me Wife of the Yiling Demon after that. But at least I was only his wife. I will be eternally grateful to you for that. It was thanks to your words that nobody else tried to make me marry. I was able to focus on my sect in relative peace. It was a kindness that I have never been able to repay until now, though you shouldn’t think that it is only because of repayment.”

She got up and dusted off her clothes perfunctorily.

“I shall take my leave now, Zewu-Jun.”

“Please, call me Xichen,” he said, thinking that after all of the things that were said that day, she might as well.

“Well then, Xichen you may call me Wanyin. Thank you for hearing me out and please forgive me for barging in unexpectedly. I have intruded upon your hospitality long enough.”

“It is no matter,” he said, and for the first time in a long while he was able to manage a weak smile, “I was honored by your company. If you did not give me so much to think about, I would offer you some more tea.”

She laughed, “Thank you Xichen, but I will be missed soon anyway. I do not need to cause an uproar in Cloud Recesses if they can’t find a Sect Leader. Plus the scandal that would happen if someone other than A-Zhan or A-Yuan finds me in here will not be pleasant.”

“A-Zhan?” he raised an eyebrow, “Is there something I should know about, Wanyin?”

She snorted and threw him a cheeky smirk, “If you want to find out you’ll have to come to Lotus Pier.” And with that she saw herself out, leaving nothing but the scent of lotuses behind her.

Huh. Well then. How curious. He’d thought that Wangji had gone off with Wei Wuxian, who he’d been in love with since he met him. How did Sect Leader Jiang factor into this? As far as he knew they didn’t even particularly like each other. It seemed like he missed quite a lot while he was in seclusion. Was his little brother in a love triangle? It would explain why Wanyin said that he shouldn’t only think of her visit as repayment to him. It wasn’t the purest motivation but huh maybe he would leave seclusion after all. His brother might need support in more ways than one. Sect Leader Lan leaving seclusion because he was too invested in his brother’s love life was a hilarious thought, and for the first time in two years, he chuckled mirthfully to himself. Maybe he would be okay after all.

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seangetfreaky · 4 years ago

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If you like sci-fi space operas with good world-building, characters that you genuinely enjoy, multiple awesome alien species, and an ever-expanding world, The Tradepoint Saga by J.J. Blacklocke is a series you will probably enjoy!

The first book in The Tradepoint Saga is Refuge, available now on Amazon!

Nine hundred Vennans undertake a cultural exchange to Tradepoint, a space station where aliens from different worlds meet to do business. A young and gyfted Speaker, Gredin, is translator and diplomat for the happy occasion.

But a horrific vision shatters her first night’s sleep on Tradepoint. Venna, their homeworld, has been destroyed. Now the safety of the delegation, the only Vennans left in all of time and space, rests on Gredin’s young shoulders.

Stunned and grieving, she navigates trade wars and political prejudice, bartering with other races—some friendly, some neutral, some outright hostile—for what her people need to survive. And the cost of failure is the unthinkable.

Extinction.

My rating: 4⭐

Page count: 528

If you’re looking for a character-focused space opera with a slow-burn plot, this would be the one for you. The story started off somewhat slow and gathered momentum as it went, the climax being both expected yet not happening as expected. The story mainly follows Gredin after she has a vision of her people’s planet having been destroyed and her having to navigate politics, trade wars, higher ups who refuse to believe her, and deal with her own grief over losing both her home and her world’s version of her soulmate. This book is a bit of a character study, and I really enjoyed it.

The first paragraph intrigued me about the protagonist’s race and their objective there. I wasn’t immediately hooked but my overall curiosity paid off because it became more and more interesting as I read on. There are no humans whatsoever in this book (and maybe the series?), which was refreshing. The world-building is well done, especially in regards to the ways and inner workings of Tradepoint. The main characters, Gredin especially, felt like real people, even the asshole Vennan that was Gredin’s superior. Their emotions and feelings came across so vividly; they all had their own motivations, goals, and hopes, and reacted to the news of their world being destroyed in different ways.

The different races were all very interesting: they all had their own customs, ways of communicating, race-specific tics. They were all described as being very different, despite the author not really describing any of them in much detail. I was suprised that there were so few races actually at Tradepoint (the station), considering it’s the place for races to make mass trades with each other. I found each of them interesting, though the knowledge of each of them limited to that of the characters that had points of view in the book. The interactions between the different species were cool to see, the side characters from these species helping to flesh out the world.

Not a lot truly happens in this story, but what does happen is not at all boring but almost captivating (if you like politics). The problems are often complicated and some are carefully walked and talked through, while others are dismissed only to come back worse than ever. The solutions are never morally black and white, and often take a lot to pull off; that was what really drew me in. I just had to know what happened, how they pulled it off, what the repercussions were. I was never disappointed.

The problem of there being different species who don’t speak the same language but needing a shared one to communicate is solved by the Tradetalk language. Due to some races not knowing it very well, when it’s used in the story, it’s oversimplified (ex: “You no talk. You talk one more, you go out. You not come back in”). Although it’s off-putting at first, it’s easy to get used to. It doesn’t take away from the seriousness and gravity of the situations it’s used in, either, which one would think would be very hard to do. I felt it really added another layer of complexity to the world of Refuge but it also was rather realistic. Language is complex and takes a long time to learn and the complexities of it can be forgotten or hard to memorize, so it makes sense that Tradetalk is oversimplified.

The story is a mix of point of views from different important characters, though Gredin is clearly the protagonist and has the most chapters. She is clearly overwhelmed by grief, though her grief isn’t solely focused on herself, but her people as well, how they’re going to survive. The change from her going from grieving to becoming the saviour her people need her to be was very sudden. Her main focus became her people and their survival, but she rarely reflected on herself and how the Power had changed her so significantly for the rest of the book. I liked her character a little less; I wanted to know how she felt about it— then again, she wasn’t really ‘feeling’ much of anything.

There’s not a lot of description of the five senses. Rather, the book is composed mostly of exposition and the inner thoughts of the characters. The author also wrote in such a way that a lot of explanation was left out in terms of the purpose of some things or what they are in general (like the Vennans’ hlao). Some of these things were explained at the very end of the book or not at all. That aside, I enjoyed the author’s writing style, which felt almost effortless. I never felt lost or confused; I always knew exactly what was happening. The world developed gradually, rather than all at once.

The complexities of the Vennan race’s customs and culture were really interesting and I’m looking forward to reading the free prequel (which can be found on the author’s blog) to learn more. The different Houses for each gyft type were cool but proved to have not been the best of choices in regards to survivability. I think Gredin realized this near the end. I think, however, that this will change in the next book, considering the choice of one of the main characters.

Overall, this was a good book that I really enjoyed, which was a surprise since I’m not one for politics or character study-type books. I’m looking forward to the sequel, Aftershock!

Interested in Refuge? You can buy it now on Amazon!

#book review #my review #books #book blogging #freaky talks #Refuge #J.J. Blacklocke

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bookworm-2692 · 4 years ago

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For the ZE Ask Game: 1b, 1e, 2a, 3d, 5e, 5f and 5n!

Thank you for sending the asks! I love talking about Zero Escape so thank you for enabling me :D

Questions from here

1b: Favourite character design?

Okay, you know how hard it is for me to pick favourite characters because they’re all wonderful and that’s why you went with this question haha. Hmm. There are so many good designs (especially with the colour coding!!!). I prefer the designs in the first two games, since they’re really bright and colourful, and the third game is darker and dingier. I like that each character has a main colour that stands out and doesn’t really belong to anyone else (except for Dio and K who both have the red and gold aesthetics, but that’s valid because red and gold is a brilliant aesthetic). I think in 999, my favourite is actually Junpei’s - I love the blue colour of his vest, and the blue vest and red shirt just. Work super well together. It’s a fashion disaster but it’s also an aesthetic I vibe with so. (also love the red blue colour coding with Junpei specifically so). In VLR, much as I loathe him, I really like Dio’s design. The top hat and the braids and the red and gold work really well together and it’s fun. Dio is super frustrating though, but his design slaps!

1e: Favourite scene?

Oooo tricky. There’s so many good moments. I think I have to go with the classic though - the moment in 999 True End where Junpei gets the safe end code, and the narration goes “How did Junpei know? He knew because I knew”. It’s so chilling and also so satisfying to see everything suddenly click. I love it, and I love watching people experiencing that for the first time. It’s like. The best part of the game, I reckon.

2a: Least favourite character?

Okay I’m trying to not immediately say Delta but like.... Delta. I think he had a super interesting concept, but the way it was executed made it so much worse. I hated that they just.... hid him from view so then the twist was that this character you didn’t even know existed was Zero? It just felt cheap. Also ~complex motives~ got really annoying - I would have much preferred it if he had said “yeah I’m only doing this to ensure my birth (and the birth of my sister). soz lmao”. Because that motive feels more real? Rather than just adding a whole random “religious fanatic” in a vague sort of way. I do like the concept of him and Phi being twins and being separated in such a way that they’re very different ages now, but again the execution of Sigma and Diana’s romance was like. Not done well.

So yeah, Delta is my least favourite because he doesn’t significantly effect the plot, barely exists, and when he is present his motives don’t make sense and his abilities are not foreshadowed at all (morphogenetic fields in 999 were good, the entire game was spent explaining the concept. Mind Hack? Right outta left field and also if we’re trying to make it work based on how morphogenetic field theory was explained in 999, the “reading minds” part of it is “extremely strong receiver”, and the “forcing people to do actions” part of it is “extremely strong transmitter”, so he should have one of the abilities but not both. And if he is a really strong transmitter.... he’s gotta mime out the action in order to write it into the fields to encourage others to follow! And I reckon natural transmitters, who are worse at receiving, are naturally slightly resistant to this, natural receivers are more vulnerable to this, and normal people somewhere in between. But yes, if Delta is gonna Mind Hacc Eric, then we should see him in the corner miming holding a gun, pointing, and firing!! Bleugh!

Wow that turned into a bit of a rant. Whoops?

3d: Rank the endings

I have been given the choice to either rank the true ends across the three games, or all the endings within a particular game. I am so bad at choices ugh.

Anyway, the true ends:

999 - it really tied everything together and explained everything. The sequence in the incinerator, seeing 12 year old Akane and 21 year old Junpei talking to each other, Junpei saving young Akane, Clover’s absolute joy at finding out Light is alive, the “he knew because I knew” thing that I mentioned above, just everything. It was a self contained story, so everything was addressed and it was good.

VLR - this is more second by default, since I love 999′s true end and hate ZTD’s true end. But overall, this is fairly solid, and I like the concept of them doing this in 2074 to change an outcome in 2028, but it loses points because it relies on ZTD to “complete” it

ZTD - I hate this true end. The game has very enjoyable moments, but unfortunately the true end amounts to “oh let’s just... SHIFT to a timeline where we all survive” and that’s it? Which just feels sort of pointless tbh. And is so unsatisfactory

Within 999, I feel all six five endings are extremely solid, and all have a part to play an a story to tell. Knife End may be the most unsatisfactory, but it’s still okay. True, Safe, and Sub Ends are the ends with credits, and they’re all full of great dialogue and story. Axe End is also great, and I love the way you get to see the other side of Clover (and I really like the art of Clover holding an axe, I actually drew it on Saturday (when I started writing these answers, but it’s Wednesday now because I’ve been busy) for a friend’s birthday, which is technically my first ZE fanart and I’ll post it here at. Some point. Knife end is a bit quick, but honestly that’s okay? Especially when considering how many bad ends the other two games have that aren’t even named. Coffin End was my first end, and I wasn’t expecting the “to be continued” so I basically just collapsed and lay face down on the ground for a fair bit, but again given how many plot locks the other games have, coffin end is chill. So 999 has the most solid endings overall.

Within VLR, there are nine named endings, one for each character, and 13 ish unnamed bad ends. The unnamed bad ends are all like.... basically as soon as you make the decision you die or whatever, they don’t continue onwards like they do for Axe End etc in 999. I like that the named endings are designed for you to learn about each character, even though some of them are kinda weak. Like Quark’s ending, we didn’t really learn about him, and most of what we learnt about him was from Tenmyouji’s ending. I agree with what you said, Finch, about how it would have been nice to get some more Quark content/bonding/something, after he wakes up. Clover’s ending was also pretty disappointing, since she vaguely alluded to 999 and then everyone killed themselves. But there were some really good ones, like Luna’s and K’s and Dio’s (very fun that Phi was about to smash his head with a rock even if betraying Luna to get to that point is painful). Actually I really like the whole murder mystery aspect of everything behind the Magenta door.

Within ZTD, I do appreciate that the endings all served their purposes, but I disliked the way there were sometimes multiple endings in the same timeline, while other timelines... had none. It just was a bit all over the shop. Most of the endings were informative for the characters, but the true end sucks.

5e: Rant about something you liked from the games

I adore all the red/blue symbolism in the games, especially in 999. The way every time the morphogenetic field is described, the transmitters are red people and the receivers are blue people. And then when you learn who the espers are, you can see how the colours align. Clover is a transmitter, and her colour scheme is a lot of dark pink, close to red, while Light, a receiver, has lots of blue in his design. Junpei and Akane can both transmit and receive (with each other), and this is shown by Junpei wearing both red and blue, and Akane wearing purple, a mix of red and blue. It’s really neat. Also, Junpei is new to the morphogenetic fields, so his blue and red is still separate, but Akane is so entwined within them, and uses them so easily, that her blue and red have mixed to become purple.

In VLR, Clover is still pink, and Junpei still has blue (even though he’s lost the red, but that could show he’s lost connection to Akane and now has no one to transmit to, although I think it’s hilarious if he was still unintentionally transmitting to Akane over the years, and that’s how she kept tabs on him and found him again for VLR.

In ZTD, Diana is red and Sigma is blue. I actually headcanon Diana as a receiver and Sigma as a transmitter (as in, he transmitted his memories to himself across timelines rather than a natural receiver ability), so I like that in ZTD they have opposite colours/each other’s colours. Phi is blue in both games and still a receiver imo.

So the colour symbolism is obviously strongest in 999, but I really like it.

5f: Rant about something you disliked from the games

In VLR, Clover says that stronger espers absorb the powers of weaker espers, and that’s why she can’t contact her brother. I hate this “fact” actually, because it directly contradicts the way the morphogenetic fields work in 999 and ZTD, and also in VLR itself. In 999, we have nine sets of esper siblings during the First Nonary Game, and since they all survived, we know that their esper powers must have worked correctly.... which means we can’t have had one Super Esper absorbing all the powers. The true end of ZTD has the powers of all the espers working together to create a resonant effect so that even Eric and Mira, non espers, can SHIFT. I also dislike SHIFTing (a rant for another day), but the idea of multiple espers in a vicinity resonating/boosting everyone’s powers makes way more sense than.... one person absorbing everyone else’s powers.

And even within VLR.... Tenmyouji does the ally/betray swapsies thing with Sigma and Phi, which means he is also remembering another timeline.... which means his powers are still working and not being absorbed by Phi and Sigma. Also.... both Phi and Sigma are using their powers and SHIFTing everywhere. Why doesn’t one of them absorb the other’s powers? Also also, we learn in the True End that Akane was in K’s armour the entire time during the timeline where Sigma and Phi most use their powers for all the bomb passwords and locations etc. You cannot try to tell me that Akane isn’t the strongest esper, ever. She simply is. If absorbing was true, then we would literally never see anyone else use their powers, because Akane is always there (FNG, 999, VLR, ZTD) and would have to be doing all the absorbing. Gah.

So I reckon, even though Clover said that, that she was simply wrong. That was the current theory SOIS had, but.... they don’t have to be right.

In any case, there are other reasons why Clover might not have been able to contact Light in VLR. The first is simply that he is dead. Another is the idea that minds linked by the morphogenetic fields have a sort of... shape. That fits perfectly with those they are esper partners with. And as the espers grow, so do their mind shapes. Clover was frozen on the 22nd of December 2028, and awoke on the 25th of January 2074. Her mind shape was not able to evolve and grow, so it is preserved. Light however has been living those 45 years, which means that’s been a lot of time for his mind shape to grow and change. Clover can’t find Light’s mind in the morphogenetic field, since it no longer looks the same, and their shapes no longer fit together. This is my personal headcanon, and it means that when Clover finds him, their minds can get used to each other again and their shapes can align, and they can be linked again.

5n: Do you have any fanart/fanfic/fangame recommendations?

Boy, do I ever? The First Nonary Game by @airdeari . What it says on the tin, folks! Airdeari has named all nine pairs of siblings, and created unique sibling relationships and unique experiences with the morphogenetic field for all of them, and woven a beautiful story together, and it’s just wonderful. It’s my favourite fic ever, to the point where I literally bound it and it now exists as a physical book in my life. Like, I cannot recommend this fic enough, it is the best.

AO3 Summary: A tale of nine children aboard a sinking ship, and the unbelievable story of how they survived.

#zero escape #999 spoilers #vlr spoilers #ztd spoilers

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